#I find it kinda beautiful that the say something options line up one after the other numerically

[lamnwar]

dhfjgj ok so i have never done an ask before but your writing is just*chef’s kiss* and idk i’m sitting in the depths of my affections for kagami rn and basically can you give us a kagami x fem! reader fluffy smut scenario?

i was honestly obsessed with your sfw piece “it just makes sense” esp the way you described him looking up at the sky in the beginning and thenbROUGHT IT BACK at the end was just agdjfshkfg poetry

kinda just want to have a pwp moment with a first meeting context.

bUT if this is too big an ask, i’m kinda craving that vibe, even if you could bless us with some shmexy crumbs following “it just makes sense” i’d be elated.

HIIII OMG SO SO SORRY I TOOK WAY TOO LONG FOR THIS ONE, I HAVE NO EXCUSE 😭 I was really excited to write this one, so I hope you're still looking for some love for Kagami bc I lowkey unlocked my affection for him writing this lmaooo anyways I hope you enjoy it <33 it's kinda accidental but I'm trynna make up for the tardiness by publishing on Valentine's Day so yeah 💕

Till The Rain Stops // Kagami Taiga x Fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

Context: in which the heavy rains get you to meet a beautiful stranger. All characters are 18+ for plot purposes.

Warnings: LISTEN it's kinda fluffy till I got feral so yeah, some fondling, nipple play, slight manhandling, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (never have sex unprotected with a stranger irl please 😭), Kagami's big 🧎🏾‍♀️, he cums on reader's chest 🤭

“Shit” you swear under your breath, as you are greeted by an unexpected deluge just minutes after leaving your building.

You look up, startled by the millions of drops falling on you, drenching your entire body while you ponder how you’ve never figured that it was going to rain today. Maybe it’s because you’ve been out of touch with reality lately – it happens sometimes when things get overwhelming. So here you are, cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella with you, and realizing that you don’t have many options but to find shelter somewhere dry. You run, protecting the content of your bag by holding it close to your chest. The sounds of your shoes in the puddles is barely heard over the violent thudding of the rain on all solid surfaces around. Evidently, at the sight of the first building on your path, you rush to enter it.

And that is when you see him. The squeak of his shoes on the wooden floor of the gymnasium follows each of his quick movements, till he jumps, time stopping momentarily as he reaches the hoop. You stare, stars in your eyes, like he is some weird invention of your imagination. But when he lands, you are brought back to reality. You silently watch as he dribbles around, swiping away the sweat of his face. He eventually stops, removing his shirt and throwing it to the side court. Except that the drench fabric lands at your feet and you both let out a gasp when your eyes meet. For what seems like an eternity, he stares at you, thick eyebrows torn at the sight of a complete stranger, wet from head to toes, standing here with these startled eyes.

“Do you need something?” his voice resonates in the empty gymnasium.

You can hear the rain drumming against the metallic roof, and you figure that you should say something.

“I uh… ran here, got caught in the rain” you explain.

His eyes don’t leave you for a second; you’re curious as to why at first, before looking down to see how your clothes cling to your body, exposing your figure to the gaze of a man you have yet to know the name of. Embarrassment gains you immediately, even more so when you realize that you have nothing to hide behind. He steps forward, and you realize just how big he is. As he stands a mere metre away from you, you are faced directly with his bare chest on which drops of sweat glimmer like he’s covered in glitter. As awkward as the situation is, you can’t ignore the sight before you; he is sculpted like a Greek god, the define lines of his muscles hypnotizing. Around his neck hangs a silver ring, and you ashamedly imagine tugging on it to pull his face closer to yours.

“God, you’re fucking wet” he remarks.

And upon hearing his voice again, your attention deviates to his face. You know that you have no idea who he is – there is no way you’d forget a face like his. His traits are of such finesse, a perfect mix of sharp angles and soft highlights, a raw beauty that makes you wonder, once again, if you are not hallucinating.

“I’m sorry to bother” you finally speak, “I just didn’t expect the rain so… can I stay here till I dry a bit and the situation calms down outside?”

“That ain’t my gymnasium, do as you please.”

His casual tone takes you aback. You haven’t really focused on his words ever since he’s opened his mouth, but you now take note of his tone; he talks like you’re acquainted and while this would have usually annoyed you, it just feels so natural coming from him. And you cannot hold yourself in any position to judge, not when you look like you do and more importantly, when you’ve been gawking at his shirtless torso all along instead of holding a conversation with him.

“Would you know where I can dry myself off?” you ask, looking down at the puddle forming at your feet.

“Oh yeah, you better do that” he raises his eyebrows.

From a gesture of the hand, he invites you to follow him, and you do so silently. You watch his back as he guides you, the size of it making you feel a bit bothered. You can feel some thoughts marching in your head, and knowing their nature, you chase them away. What kind of creep would you be, thinking about marking this gorgeous back with your nails while he thrusts into you? You cough, feeling terrible for being so ridiculously desperate for a man you barely know.

“I’m Kagami Taiga, by the way. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Taiga. His name echoes in your head, sounding pretty. It fits him, you ponder, matching the energy you get from him.

“We haven’t met no, but it’s nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself back, small talk issuing from your introduction till he opens the door of what you figure to be the lockers. His back stands in the middle of the room, and he invites you in.

“Got a towel hanged there” he points at the hangers, “and I don’t know about your clothes, but I think I might have an extra t-shirt for you.”

“You- you don’t have to!”

“Up to you girl, but…” he gets a black shirt out of his bag “if you want something warm and dry.”

He stands in front of you, a big hand holding out the piece of clothing to you. The proximity makes you gulp; he’s intimidating, yet incredibly attractive. And when your fingers graze his as you take his t-shirt, you get a whiff of his perfume – a mix of his natural scent and his deodorant. It doesn’t help your case: he smells heavenly. These thoughts rush in again: what would you do to get his scent on you? what would you do to be encased under his perfect body? Once again, you chase them away the best as you can, refocusing on the present moment.

“Thank you then, Taiga.”

“Taiga? Are we on first name basis already?” he smirks at you.

“Oh! Where are my manners…”

“Hey chill, I couldn’t care less. Call me what you want. Anyway, my name sounds good coming out of your mouth.”

On these words, he leaves the lockers and closes the door behind him, leaving you totally flustered. Come to think of it, he certainly doesn’t mean much by what he’s said – not only does he seem casual in his language, he’s also straightforward. But you can’t help the way you feel; having a hot guy saying that he likes the way you call his name isn’t a common occurrence (well, not as much as you’d like it to be). But again, you figure that you should keep your calm. It isn’t really like you now, is it? Maybe it’s the rain making you think and feel like a hormonal teenager, who knows.

So, you stand there in your underwear, patting your body dry. Your mind cannot get off your new encounter, not when it looks like it comes right off a rom-com. The only thing missing was the rose petals falling around Kagami when you first saw him, although you’d argue it felt like it. At the mere thought of him, you notice a heat in your chest, and you wonder if that may be a love at first sight situation. The thought is crazy – you are more of a realist, and as little as you understand of love, the idea of falling in love upon seeing someone for the first time is fairly crazy. So maybe it’s not love per se, but rather a deep state of infatuation, where the single fact that you are wearing his t-shirt makes you giddy, and you wonder how it’d feel to wake up in his clothes every morning, a piece of him always with you. It’s all crazy daydreams, making you feel out of yourself but at the same time, you’d argue that you can’t be blamed, because you deeply believe that the man you’ve met only minutes ago is objectively the kind to sweep anyone off their feet.

It doesn’t help your case, when you leave the lockers and see him practice his shooting, his form capturing your eyes. His movements are precise and elegant, in complete contrast with his force and the strong muscles that activate as he makes his shots. You are in awe, witness of something great, and questions flood your mind as you stand on the side court, hypnotized by him.

Who the hell is Kagami Taiga?

He goes to catch the ball under the nest after perfectly putting it in, strong hand dribbling it on the polished wooden floor, the sound echoing the beat of your own heart. It’s intriguing that you’ve never met him before. The gymnasium is just minutes away from your place, on your way to most places – whether it be the convenience store or the nearest bus station. You’re used to seeing people walk in and out of it, local teams coming for practice, or neighbours going in for their daily dose of physical activity. But not once have you seen him, and it can’t be that you’ve never noticed, because he’s definitely not the kind to go unnoticed. His fiery aura alone forces you to look his way, capturing all your senses and getting you to pay attention to nothing but him. And now that you see him practice, you note that he is not an amateur like most people coming to play here. With such abilities, he’s either a professional or just a pure genius.

“D’you ever play?” his voice resonates in the empty gymnasium.

It takes you out of your trance, and you look at him, meeting his raised eyebrows.

“I did real quick in P.E. but that’s just how far my history with basketball goes” you reply in all honesty.

He smiles, eyes deviating to the windows for a second. The rain hasn’t stopped, nor has it calmed down. You sigh at this vision, although some part of you wishes it never stops so you get to stay longer with Kagami.

“Wanna play? To pass time, you know” he proposes.

A heat gains your cheeks; it’s cute, you think, and you’d be dumb to not take the opportunity. You nod, trotting to join him on the court. You smile looking up at him.

“You’ll have to show me, sir.”

“Sir?”

“I ought to show you respect if you are to instruct me the ways of basketball.”

He raises an eyebrow before chuckling. The ball under his arm bounces to you, and you catch it in both your hands. You look at it, thinking about how it was looking smaller in his hand. You dribble a bit, getting use to the ball and they you look back at him, nicely waiting for instructions.

“Shoot” he says.

He stands in the sideline, hands on his hips as you suddenly feel nervous. Something about him observing your every move is scary, the thought of is judgement being cast on you, making your heartbeat faster. But you shake the feeling away as best as you can, getting into position and letting the ball fly to the basket. It bounces on the hoop before falling right in his hand.

“Are you going to correct my form?” you ask as he walks back to you.

“Do you want me to?”

“I… wouldn’t mind.”

You swear you see him blush, though it might just be the physical activity that makes the blood rush all over his body. Regardless, you feel his warm body as he comes closer, placing the ball in your hand and then standing behind you. It takes all of you in, your mind uncapable of focusing on anything else but the proximity between you. And when his fingers reach your arms, placing them as they should, you can hardly breathe.

“Now, I need you to bend your knees a bit” he speaks near your ear.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes open wide upon the realization that you’ve spoken out loud. You can’t get yourself to face him, or move a single bit, petrified that he’s heard you. Yeah, it could have been worse – you’ve certainly thought of worse ever seen you got here. But still, the way that word came out of your mouth, like a desperate whimper, is enough to translate the way you’ve been feeling about him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

His candidness surprises you – is he totally unaware of his charms? You can seize the opportunity to act like nothing happened, or… or you can get something more fun out of it.

“You’re cute Taiga, do you know that?”

You’ve never been so bold, and it feels thrilling to speak your mind rather than internally struggling with whatever goes on in your head.

“Cute? I’ve been told I’m a lot of things… but never cute” he reflects. “How am I cute?”

“Well,” you breath, “it’s cute that you can’t tell why being near you makes me swear out loud.”

Your fingers tighten around the ball, anticipating his answer.

“Oh?” he takes a moment, and feel him stand straight behind you before another, “oh” comes out, this one sounding more like a sound of realization.

He reaches behind you, taking you in an embrace for a quick second that feels like eternity before his hands catch yours on the ball.

“You’re a weird one” he remarks, “gawking at me and acting shy one time, and telling me I’m cute and making a move the other.”

“Listen” you try to justify yourself, “I have to make myself memorable, for the next time we meet.”

“Is that so?”

You gulp; his voice sounds so close to you that simply imagining the little space between your bodies makes you weak to the knees. You try to keep a semblance of composure, just for your own dignity, but it’s hard when he’s pressing at your back, bare skin emitting so much heat that you feel it through the fabric of the t-shirt you’re wearing.

“Well, I’m glad that you like me that much” he continues, “my weird one.”

“Should I take it as compliment? That I’m your weird one?”

“I imply that you’re mine. Isn’t it enough?”

You drop the ball, turning around to face him; and that is when it strikes you how close he is. Just centimetres away, his tall body towering over you as he stares, wondering what your next move is.

“I don’t know, I could be yours, yeah, but you should make me first.”

“Sure thing, how d’you want me to proceed?”

He glances at the window – the rain is nowhere near to stop, if anything, it’s pouring even more. The two of you are bound to stay in this gymnasium alone for an unpredictable amount of time. Sure, he has an umbrella, and the two of you could venture outside, confronting the ruthless drops till you both get home. But in comparison to the warmth you’re currently experiencing, it’d be foolish to break the moment, for you don’t know when another occasion as such will ever come.

“Start by giving me a kiss” you finally say, gathering all your confidence in that simple request.

He raises an eyebrow, a glimpse of something appearing in his red irises before he lets a short, cheeky smirk cross his lips as he comes closer. As the distance between you reduces, your mind runs at a thousand kilometres per hour. All of the sudden, you realize what is going on, how you’ve asked for something that you truly want and you’re about to get it. It has never occurred to you before that it can be that simple – you’ve seen him, you’ve immediately taken a liking to him, and now here you are.

His lips are soft against yours as his hands go to pull you closer by the waist. You reach for his face, fingers taking in every inch of his skin, and you can’t help but smile. The way he holds you and kisses you is heavenly – dreamlike, just like him. And it takes your eyes opening again for you to realize, once again, that you aren’t hallucinating. Under the sound of the rain, you kiss him again, more and more hungry for him, figuring that you shouldn’t try to rationalize what is happening. Sure, you are not a believer of love at first sight, but you can’t deny that everything about Kagami Taiga keeps pulling you in, like you want to be made for him, and him only.

“Now what?” he says against your lips.

You look at him, in search of an answer yourself. You could stop everything at this very instant, which would be the sensical thing to do all things considered – you barely know the guy, and a public gymnasium isn’t the most romantic place ever. But at the same time, the tension between you is unbearable, and not listening to your deepest instincts feels wrong.

“Have you ever had sex in the locker room, Taiga?”

The basketball player does not expect you to reply to his question by another one, much less one like that. But this time, he doesn’t take long to connect the dots and understand your intentions.

“I’m about to” he replies, fingers intertwining with yours as he takes you to the locker room.

You laugh as you follow him, feeling like two teenagers about to make a silly mistake, and in some ways, maybe this is what it is. But you couldn’t care less, not when his lips find yours again as he pulls you up, legs wrapping around his waist. You make a mess of his hair, fingers tracing down to the silver chain around his neck before you get to the ring, pulling on it. He gasps, surprised by how you tug him closer and you feel his grip on your bottom get stronger. He almost stumbles, landing on the bench.

“Do I sweep you off your feet, big boy?” an amused smile painted on your face.

“You fucking do” he retorts.

You laugh softly, enjoying the way he looks at you. It is so warm, so humane. The man that you’ve thought to be a miracle upon first entering this gymnasium is right here, so close to you that it is impossible to doubt his existence. You can’t deny it, not when he lifts his t-shirt off your body to leave kisses on your neck and chest. Not when he removes your bra and swears under his breath at the sight of your gorgeous tits. Not when his big hands fondle your breasts, and he goes to suck on your harden nipples to get the sweetest moans out of your lips.

“Fuck, Taiga” you breathe out.

“What is it, my pretty one?”

The name he calls you by makes you waver, and you can’t help but smile at him.

“I’m your pretty one now, huh? No longer weird?”

“You’re both, how about that?”

“I’ll take that, but can your pretty one get some love down there now? I’m growing impatient here!”

He laughs at your straightforwardness, while you yourself are still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you’ve actually spoken these words without hesitation. It amazes you, how he manages to put you at such ease, like you’ve always known each other. Yet, you sit here on his lap, curious as ever to discover everything about him because despite the way you feel, you are still strangers. It’s a sort of excitement that takes over you when he grabs you again like you weight nothing, then lays you on the bench. The cold surface against your hot skin gives you goosebumps, but you cannot care less – your attention is entirely focused on the man removing your pants, followed by your underwear, an ecstatic look painting his face at the sight of your cunt.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot” he outright remarks, hands roaming on your thighs.

You feel blood rush to your face, part of you embarrassed to be examined by the eyes of the handsome stranger, part of you extremely aroused by the prospect of what is to come.

“Can I taste you?”

“Please” you nod eagerly.

He doesn’t waste a minute, spreading your legs further apart and getting a comfortable place in between them. Half-lidded eyes look up to you while he marks your skin of his lips, hot breath fanning on your erected clitoris. You bite your lips, keeping in the sounds that menace to come out; he’s barely done anything yet, but you are already melting, the simple sight of him between your legs being its own aphrodisiac. However, you cannot keep your silence when he takes a first laps, separating your lips to have access to your clitoris. He reaches the bundle of nerves, sucking on it languidly, though you feel that he is holding back his true hunger. Something almost animalistic animates the red-haired boy, each stroke of his skilled tongue leaving you speechless – only moans and incoherent mumbles leave your throat.

“Taste so fucking good” he groans as he feists on you.

You can’t even voice out an answer, hips desperately bucking forward to communicate your needs. He is, there again, quick to understand, and his strong arms wrap around your legs as he pulls you closer, keeping his hold as he buries himself in the heavenly warmth of your pussy. He’s messy, hungry, insatiable. You whine – it feels like too much already, and you are just seconds away from your orgasm. Your thighs clench, the knot in your stomach unravelling as you bend against the surface of the bench.

He barely has the time to get out of the embrace of your legs that you pull his face towards yours, desperately kissing him, getting the bittersweet taste of you on your tongue. You’re in a state that is unknown to you, wanting – needing – everything of him. Kagami Taiga has you so desperately in need for him, that your hands rush to the band of his basketball shorts, big doe eyes looking up at him as you beg:

“I want to suck your dick, please!”

This time, Taiga looks surprised by your eagerness. Though he’s appreciated the honesty you’ve demonstrated lately, seeing you so hungry for him takes him aback. The surprise, however, isn’t unwelcomed. As a matter of fact, he looks at you with stars in his eyes – elated that a girl like you, can want him so much. A simple stranger, yet one that has already turned his life around in the few hours you’ve got to spend together.

“Fuck, I can’t refuse shit to my pretty one” he smiles, fingers caressing your cheeks.

You are quick to free his hard cock of all fabric, taking an instant to admire it. Its size is impressive – though proportional, considering how tall and large he is; and from the way it looks, proud and beautiful, you can only crave it more. Your hands wrap at the base and give a few slow strokes, fingers exploring his length curiously. His tip calls for the warmth of your mouth, and you yield; your tongue licks gently, descending to the shaft before you leave a soft kiss to the tip. You look up, the sight of his immense body folding under your delicate touches. And the second you take him in, welcoming his cock in the tender embrace of your cheeks, he is nothing but a mess, big hands pushing your head closer as you choke a bit on his length.

“You can take me in, can’t you?”

You whine a response with a mouth full, proving him just right as he reaches the back of your throat. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes, making them look like celestial skies, and you ravish at the way you make him feel. His heavy panting and the occasional swearing leave you more wet than you already are, and it takes everything in you to keep going instead of stopping and fuck yourself on his dick. However, patience has never been one of your virtues, and you let him go in a sloppy “pop”. His hand comes to your face, forcing you to look at him as he looks for an answer.

“I’m sorry Taiga, but I can’t wait any longer” you confess.

He helps you up, leaving a chaste kiss on your lips, which startles you. You couldn’t expect such response to what you just did and said, but the more you get to know him, the more you understand that he isn’t your average guy. No, where another man would be impatient and apathic, Kagami is surprisingly kind, perfectly understanding you and your body and indulging into you without thinking twice. He is genuine in a way that makes your heart flutter, so you really can’t blame yourself for wanting him so deep in you, that he forever leaves his mark.

“How does my pretty one want me, hm?”

“I don’t fucking care, I just want you.”

He laughs taking you by the hips before laying you back on the bench. As he spreads your legs wide for him, you look at his figure hovering over you. He is incredibly beautiful; you reflect at the sight. Beside his divine body, his face is one that you wish to always see, one that you’d paint the portrait of.

And it just strikes you at this moment, that you might actually be in love with his face.

Maybe it is truly love at first sight, as absurd as it sounds, maybe it just was a destined encounter. How else can you explain that you feel just right for each other? That he knows how to please your body without you having to say anything? How else can you explain the absolute bliss you feel hearing him groan in your ear? Or the way his hips buck harder when you chant his name like a prayer?

“So fucking good” he grunts as his fingers find your clit.

Your eyes barely stay open, but in a last moment of control over your blissed out body, your finger hook the ring around his neck, pulling him towards your face. Your lips find his in yet another of these heated, needy kisses. Your moans get lost in his mouth and you shake, feeling your orgasm approaching.

“Taiga…” you try to warn him.

“Fuck, are you cumming, yeah? Are you gonna milk me, pretty one?”

You fail to word out an answer, instead whining like the needy girl you are. So needy, for him, for all of him. His thrusts keep going till you finally reach your climax, his name leaving your lips as you feel your insides explode. He keeps going, your clenching walls taking him to the edge. Just as he feels himself on the verge of his own orgasm, he pulls out, stroking his cock till you hear your name in a moan, hot strings of white painting your chest. And everything that you’ve imagined since first meeting him, all these thoughts you were ashamed of and try to repress, they all suddenly take a taste of reality.

Because in Taiga’s attempt of making you his, you’ve ended up making him yours.

“It’s still raining outside” he remarks as he pulls your tired body towards his.

He strokes your hair while you listen carefully to the drops falling on the roof. It sounds like the rain has calmed down, but it is not your intention to leave anytime soon.

“I just kinda want to stay with you till the rain stops, and maybe even after.”

#sorry again for taking so long #i hope you love it <3 #i really loved that request :) #knb #kuroko no basuke #kagami taiga #knb x reader #kagami x reader #knb smut #kagami smut

[sly-fox]

This is honestly going to suck but-

Okay, I don’t see enough people talking about this so- here we are. This will contain spoilers for the analog horror series, Guilty Tears Au of Sanders Sides. If you haven’t seen it or if any of the following triggers you, please skip: (I am listing the triggers from all the episodes just in case you want to watch it as well so some won’t make sense on a tumblr post, but just in case-) Disturbing Imagery, Loud Sounds, Body Horror, Blood, Gore, Death, Violence, Food (more like implied cannibalism, but ok-), Flashing Lights, Spiders, Ladybugs.

Now if any of that bugs you, I would say that this isn’t for you. This is just my personal opinion and analysis on this series! So let’s get started:

Episode 1: Teachers PowerPoint

So, we’re starting off with a very simple format; a PowerPoint presentation called “Dreams, a Manageable Analysis by Logan Sanders”.

Like omg Logan is so cute in this 🥺. He keeps talking about sleep and the benefits and downsides of it. But something is… off about it. The monitor keeps glitching out and skipping parts of the presentation. It skipped over the definition of Non-REM sleep, and it just is a bit strange. Then this happens:

And then it gets closer T-T. I kinda jumped when I saw it ngl- Then he gives us the definition of a nightmare. It kinda was normal at first but then-

Like wth-? This was honestly just weird to me me, cause he looked like a fucking demon- this isn’t even the weirdest part (and therefore not the most interesting).

Now, the first one is obviously a reference to everything going on with the wedding arc and… other things. Missing Important Events? The callback. Loneliness. More so up to interpretation, or is it? I’ll come back to it later. Rejection? Again, back to it later. Confusing Emotions? All that Thomas has been dealing with for a WHILE. Broken promises, WTIT, anyone?

The second photo:

Morse Code Translated (not by me): WHY DON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME? AM I A JOKE TO YOU? I TRY SO HARD TO BE PATIENT AND GIVE  YOU TIME, BUT YOU CHOSE TO MAKE A STUPID PROMISE INSTEAD OF ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING

Wow.. well what I say about this, is that Logan is snapping at Thomas again, cause as we have seen, he tends to distract himself rather than actually solving his problems. Logan is trying to communicate with Thomas again and he. Won’t. Listen.

After that we got a number sequence:

19/20/15/16/9/7/14/15/18/9/14/7/18/5

If you line it up with the letters in the alphabet, you get “Stop Ignoring Re”. I thought I heard it wrong but I didn’t-. So there had to be a reason for it to say “Re” instead of “Me”, right? Right. I’ll be tying it together, I swear. Just bear with me here. I also find it interesting that a YELLOW GLOVED HAND turned off the monitor and put an out of order note on the screen (I mean it was pretty glitchy so I mean-).

(Also there is a sticky note on the bottom left corner that reads “DONT LOOK BEHIND THE CURTAIN” keep that in the back of your mind c:)

Episode 2: Forgotten Fairytale

So it starts with Janus opening a story book titled “The Young Prince”.

This is interesting- I see a little crown charm on the bookmark- Erin focus- okay so the cover already grabbed my attention. At first cause I thought of beauty and the beast and

H O L Y S H I T the parallels. We have a mirror with a green gem on the handle (I don’t think it’s important but I could be mistaken-). In it, a black wilting rose. Black roses itself mean death, while the wilting flower by itself means “Term used to supress desire when it would otherwise be impossible to fornicate.” Roman wanted to go to the callback (and ask out Nico), but it seemed just out of reach, so he ended up with choosing an option that goes against himself (Virgil helped him with Nico but still-).

To the actual story, it talks about how lonely Roman feels (Loneliness huh?) and that he wants to meet his true love. He searches and searches but can’t find them. One night, a witch pays a visit. He says that he wants to make a deal: he will give Roman his “one true love” in exchange for half of his kingdom. Roman didn’t want to risk it, and told him no.. the witch did not like that.

He cursed Roman, and his face had melted off. Overwhelmed by heartbreak, he locked himself in his tower. The people eventually forgot about him and he died alone, holding the wilted black rose..

And then Janus literally closes the book on that tale-. So Roman’s I feel is more metaphorical, he feels like his world is falling apart, trying to use love to distract him from the pain of his decision to go to the wedding, and the moment he was attacked, no one helped him.. (Janus I love you but you’re a bitch-)

Episode 3: Cookie Mistake

(Yes I’m sure it’s a pun off of Rookie Mistake, it’s Patton what did you expect?)

So this an actual person acting out Patton this time.

The puns 😭. But yeah, it’s a simple baking tutorial! And it’s a mime kinda thing, so we have dialogue on the screen. It seemed normal, but this is Guilty Tears.

He dumped the flour into the bowl and made a little bit of a mess- it’s baking what are you going to do about it? But Patton started shaking slightly saying “That wasn’t supposed to happen…” It’s okay I know you said you were feeling “crumby” but damn- it’s just flour.

Ok then, laying it on thick. So Patton is freaking out over the little things and these little messages pop up. “Do you feel guilt consuming your every thought?” No I don’t think so- but this is maybe reference to POF, where he caused Thomas pain without realizing. The “Nobody is free of sin” seems like a twisted version of their new concept, “Not everything is black and white.” Patton is trying to distract himself from what happened and is only stressing himself out more.

HOLY FUCK, PATTON- Okay. So there’s obviously SOMETHING going on. Why did he have blood in the first place? Why’d he think it was a good idea? Patton are you a cannibal now-?

This gave me an idea.. this could be both figurative or literal but, the blood is on his hands.. Let’s take a look at Virgil’s episode.

Episode 4: Wake Up Call

According to (assumedly) Thomas’ phone, it is 3:23 pm. April 23rd. Almost his birthday, hmm.

Holy shit- no✨ Dolls are creepy enough-. Anyway, it’s starts off by (I assume) Virgil asking Thomas:

So one answer is normal, one is more normal for Thomas and the other sounds more Anxiety related. He chooses to brush his teeth, but they fall out. In dreams, teeth falling out are associated with loss and important life changes. Thomas has been struggling to coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a complete pure good, and his life has changed drastically. This series started from a silly blog and now it’s a series dealing with complex and controversial issues, while he’s struggling to show the world who he is.

With the answers, they’re the same type. He chooses to make breakfast, but in the fridge with Virgil Doll, is a fucking skeleton/corpse and the fridge is all bloody. The “blood on his hands” thing might be more literal than we MAY have thought. Did Thomas kill someone? If so, who did he kill? I’ll get us there (hopefully-).

Okay- Hi Virgil- so, here I want to point out c. “I promise tomorrow I will change I will be a good person I will clean”. As soon as it had showed up on the screen, Virgil appeared. Thomas is making promises he can’t keep.

(“WHY DON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME? AM I A JOKE TO YOU? I TRY SO HARD TO BE PATIENT AND GIVE  YOU TIME, BUT YOU CHOSE TO MAKE A STUPID PROMISE INSTEAD OF ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING”)

Seems like Logan had another good point- Thomas keeps trying to say tomorrow this and tomorrow that, but Virgil knows. He wants Thomas to get up and be productive, but with Logan “out of service” you have anxiety based motivation. Virgil, being his anxiety, is also reminding him what he did.

At the end, Virgil doll is hanging by a thread (literally) and we see a gloved hand cut the thread. Setting Virgil free for now..

Episode 5: Important Reminder

Thomas is upstairs, and is going down to his living room to answer a knock at his door, and it is a WRECK. But worse than before. There’s blood on the walls and all that. He picks up “The Young Prince” something he apparently used to like during childhood, and finds this drawing between the pages:

“Have you ever imagined killing your brother?” “This is me electrifying my brother!”

Could this imply that Remus was actually the supposed witch? It was (possibly) the drawing mentioned in the Moving On episodes within the pages of a book where Princey died. This could be implying that ever since Remus appeared, Roman has been hurting. Maybe because he blames his dear twin for the murder?

…

THIS IS WHY WE SAID DONT LOOK BEHIND THE CURTAIN-!?

Okay- I’m okay. If you can’t tell, the word “unhelpful” was written in blood, and there is some behind the curtain. I can’t tell who it is tho- Patton? Nightmare Nico?

Speaking of Nico, ✨R E J E C T I O N✨

But really, Thomas is obviously having issues. He tried to get out the house, but Nico was busy that whole week. (Including his birthday 😢)

When he finally answered the door..:

As we’ve seen in WTIT, Thomas is scared of getting older, so I think it’s interesting that Remus called him that. “I can show you how bad things can truly get” I think this is his twisted way of saying “Get over it, you didn’t do as much harm think you did.”

(“Stop Ignoring Re”)

But of course, Janus closes the door on him, shutting him away from Thomas.

Episode 6: Blinding Denial

>No no no.

>I’m fine, I’m alright.

>I’m just…

>I’m just tired.

>I’ll fix it tomorrow, okay?

>I promise.

Thomas have still not learned? 🤨

I feel when Janus leaves the baby crying, he’s not talking about a literal baby, but Thomas. Janus has been sheltering him from the sides trying to confront him (Turning off the PC, Closing the Book, Editing the Video + cleaning the blood, etc.) but has had enough of Thomas prolonging the inevitable.

“You’ve been walking in circles”

“You’re running away from yourself”

He squished the Ladybug. Whilst crushing the hope that good luck will suddenly make things better.

“It’s time to move on and forgive yourself”

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

Holy crap I did it. Well hopefully you enjoyed! See you later!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #guilty tears

[notallwonder]

Alright. We are here. At the end(ish). CM 16x10 "Dead End".

Spoilers and whatever my addled brain wants to express under the cut. This may be a long one.

I don't know why this show makes me so happy despite its many deficiencies. tbh I think it's bc I am job hunting and this at least gives me a lil shot of dopamine or seratonin or whatever the fuck. Also Paget Brewster.

The things I want out of this season finale: Prentiss. I hope she gets to smile and smirk and not just be mad/sad/worried. I wanna see some good moments for Luke, though I'm less hopeful on that front. I want to see something good for Tara. What that could be...dunno. As for the rest - I don't think I even care that much? I suspect it will end in some sort of cliffhanger.

Okay, now that I have unwisely embarked on this journey in the wee hours of the night...

I wonder who will get to wear the Brown Jacket this episode?

oh boo the black & white flashbacks are still here...I hate that choice.

it's a pleasure to see Krystall again tho. I always liked her.

laying on the ol' "FBI behavioral analysis heroes stop real monsters" schtick real thick there guys. it's funny of me to get annoyed about this on this, the "FBI are real heroes" show. but I do.

good onya Dave, found the mood lighting. LOL at the oxygen meter. LMAO even MORE at Dave finding the wifi router.

it's still so stupid that Will is there lol

this is the first time I have truly hated Elias Voit. who would rather speak to Bailey when Emily Prentiss is right there on the phone? only a stupid little man apparently. although - Bailey would be way easier to manipulate so maybe not so stupid.

omg incredible forehead moment there. ma'am your eyebrows (what have i become)

love the implication that Dave just recites quotes to himself. kinda tracks

this situation with Bailey makes me go *grimace emoji*

has Bailey been a gold star lesbian this whole time?

t's so stupid that Will gets lines and Luke still gets shafted. I don't hate Will, but...really?

god now JJ says "wheels up"? sorry, hate it

WOW okay. So Gold Star is a secret program of some kind. And now we're talking "legal" and "extralegal" options with the AG. boy. whew. god why did I get attached to this fucking show.

though - AG slaying in that black suit/purple blouse situation.

"they would see through it, the BAU" - because the BAU are the good guys, not involved in (implied unethical?) secret shit? what the ever loving shit is this.

Adam Rodriguez just doing the most with his beautiful face and voice. thank you sir

bummer that I have to watch most of Joe Mantegna's acting from a weird vantage point and on a phone screen on a TV screen.

oh wait now we get a Badass Marine Rossi Montage

absolutely incredible, the bizarre combinations of ads I get when I watch this show. After Rossi's explosive moment, I just got served an ad about a disease that causes curvature of the erection due to scar tissue. what the fuck paramount plus

is it just me or did the audio get weird now that we're back in Emily's office

"politics" there that is again

Ghost of Krystall Past! Welcome to the shitshow! you look fabulous

"we were just getting started" I wish they did this echo thing with lines that actually were interesting

I do love Emily being constantly like "WHAT tHE Frickle FRACKLE" but I worry for her blood pressure. can she ride along. I want her in every scene, not just stuck at the BAU on Chicken Roaster time

Elias please tell your wife you want to wear the Moose dog collar and that's why you saved it. whoops missed opportunity babe

Emily. ma'am. you are beautiful, gorgeous, smokin'. etc.

what are you Bailey, a vampire

I mean...I am intrigued about what the fuck this is all about. they've got me on the hook. can they reel me in?

the implication here is that Voit has knowledge/dirt that they want kept secret. So he's a little bit in kind of a Snowden position?

OH SHIT BAILEY DEAD

WILL BEEN SHOT (saw that one coming, why else would he be there). dont worry he's fine guys. no stakes

YAS Tara. There's that steel. I missed that steel.

JJ and Sydney. Classic mom to mom interview, right?

LOL they're begging Sydney to help them find David Rossi, that annoying old dude that accosted her in the cereal aisle.

in my opinion this episode has a weird denouement energy. like...it didn't feel climactic even in the shootout scene. maybe on rewatch

it's really too bad that me and the CME showrunner(s) have such a disagreement on what parts of this show/world are worth expanding upon. the emotional beats/storyline with Elias and family are fine. They are kind of interesting even. More interesting to me than plenty of the 300 some previous unsubs. but...a simple 2 minutes scene of Emily Prentiss in her own home? I would dine on that for weeks, months, years. it's all about priorities. I get it. I've been thinking about that - about the fact that I have not been watching the same show they've been making. I mean...literally I have. But that's how art works in some sense. someone creates a thing, and I encounter that thing, engage with it. I bring whatever I bring to the encounter, and walk away having had an experience that the original creator *might* have intended in and might not, depending on how you define that. maybe we're ships passing in the night. i'm sure i'm not articulating this very well. it's almost 3 a.m. here.

good news for the Tyler dislikers out there

Rossi now that you're back at the BAU the first thing you better be doing is groveling at Emily Prentiss's feet and apologizing for your behavior sir.

oh, BIG HUG! *heart eyes*

oh my GOD I am just CACKLING WITH LAUGHTER. Emily Prentiss big embrace to Mr. JJ, Will Lamontagne Jr. INCREDIBLE. IN-CRED-IBLE!!!!!!! this kind of comedy is...I don't have words for it. it's like...a teeny tiny version of what I imagine that Supernatural Nov 5 Emotion was like. I witnessed but did not feel that feel. but this might be a related feel.

aw Bailey. you join the dead agents wall. aw Emily - big sigh. sweet sad face. couldn't love you more.

yesssss, I have collected yet another line spoken between JJ and Emily that is not case-related!! (I think I am up to 2? 3?). "your eulogy was beautiful". classic jemily right there!

Prentiss cogs still turning

LOL calling Bailey a "comrade-in-arms" sorry it's just funny that this is supposed to have real emotional weight. I get it that it has weight for the team; but the audience...we barely knew ye Doug Noodle.

not lost on me that we're winding down on the "couples" here. Pen & Luke; Will & JJ; Tara & Emily lol

JJ's line to Will "I have a confession to make...I liked it a lot better when I didn't have to see you in the line of fire." Wow, groundbreaking confession there. I mean...we already know this. Not only is that, like, a very normal sentiment regarding someone you love, but also remember Hit/Run? I do really enjoy JJ insulting her husband. "yeah, well next time don't get shot [idiot]" I like that as part of their dynamic. it feels authentic to JJ in some way. she does that sarcastic thing.

GOD I wanted SO HARD to see Voit's shoes, which I assume were government issued dirty orange Crocs

y'all, so help me, I liked this season. I like that it's given me more raw material to work with, I guess. I LOVE that it gave me silver fox Prentiss. The ham-handedness and bad writing and pacing issues and all of that are clear weaknesses that are also pretty clear carry overs from the original run. No shock or surprise there, and I am (too) forgiving, especially because they have genuinely tried to do something new-ish. Did they succeed? I mean. yeah. Did they succeed *well*? Not really.

As for the ending...they set themselves up for the new season, enough intrigue to get me to keep watching (I would have anyway because i somewhat embarrassingly have ONE priority). It feels like some secret spy shit, which I can only hope means *something* in terms of call backs to Emily's secret spy shit days (it won't since this isn't the Emily Prentiss show, which I will always be sad about).

I cannot bring myself to be mad about various choices like Garcia's characterization, the JJ and Emily situation such as it isn't, even Rebecca. I think the door is still open for Rebecca to be part of the story moving forward. The Garcia character assassination is...well it is jarring and still feels oddly simplistic to me, though I think they are aiming for complexity. I am still waiting on some real consequences / real accountability for her and I'm not sure I'll ever be satisfied in that arena. She admitted in the finale that she fell back into old patterns, and Luke joked that if people didn't do that they'd be out of a job, with the hilarious implication that PG's bad relationship habits are comparable to...serial killer shit. Adam Rodriguez stays giving a really enjoyable performance as a man who loves this woman honestly more than seems wise - he is getting his heart stepped on but won't abandon her. And I don't know that he's necessarily pining, so much as he is committed to being her friend despite her carelessness. I am mad that Luke didn't get much of anything of his own this season.

I hope the folks creating CME take some time to do a critical post-mortem. I hope they're not just patting themselves on the back. I generally appreciate what they're trying to do, but I want them to figure out how to do it better.

#criminal minds evolution #criminal minds evolution spoilers #criminal minds spoilers #cm spoilers #cme spoilers #criminal minds

[call-me-cosmic]

Do you have your own F/E (fictional enemy)?

I do! For Fallen Magic, the main villain is the Queen, Hortensia. However, I’ve added some twists to her, because “evil Queen” on its own is kinda boring.

If you want to hear about her, scroll down! If you don’t want to be majorly spoiled, don’t read below the cut.

Hortensia is the eldest daughter of King Rown and Queen Melan, and has a younger sister Brigitta. The family was happy and the King and Queen were beloved, but soon after Brigitta turned eight, she became ill. Rown and Melan reached out to every healing in and out of Elubeth, finding only the best, exploring every option, but nothing worked. At nine years old Brigitta was bedridden and hardly ever conscious, and no one expected her to live much longer. The family was devastated, but Hortensia (fourteen) wasn‘t about to give up. The royal advisor and trusted family friend Weland assisted Hortensia in her search for a cure, and with his help she found an old book that had been forgotten in the library. It held countless cures within it, things she‘d never seen before, and she brought it to her parents immediately. However, they were not so excited about her finding.

They were struck when they saw the book, taking it away and asking where she found such a thing. They explain that the book contains dark magic, a magic no longer practiced because of its unnatural, unstable abilities. Dark magic is like a parasite that latches onto the user, corrupting them, and bringing out their worst emotions until thats all thats left of the person. Melan has the book destroyed and tries to comfort Hortensia, saying its just Brigitta‘s time, but Hortensia runs away.

Weland finds her and tells her about a place called the Klanstin Ruins, saying that an entity there might be able to assist her. He covers for her while she rides to the ruins, finding a destroyed and abandoned city lost to time in the middle of a beautiful meadow. It is here she makes contact with a strange entity, something she can hear, but not see. She explains why she‘s there and the entity agrees to help, but says she must help it escape the ruins it is trapped in. She agrees, allowing the entity to attach itself to her, and rides back to the castle. There, the entity explains the steps she must take to preform different spells, and she follows them. Within a week Brigitta is awake and even speaking more, and Rown and Melan consider it a miracle, as does all of Elubeth when the news gets out. Hortensia is ecstatic, but she feels like something is… wrong. She feels weaker, drained, and her skin is pale. As she continues to complete the spells from the entity, she feels worse, while Brigitta gets better. Its not until black veins appear across her face that she realizes how bad it is. She talks to the entity, saying she doesn‘t want to follow the spells anymore, but the entity refuses to give her up. It takes control of her, using her as a puppet whenever it chooses, Hortensia powerless to stop it. She becomes withdrawn and sickly, and as the entity no longer preforms the spells to heal Brigitta, she gets worse as well.

Rown and Melan are heartbroken as both of their daughters seem to be pulled away from them. Brigitta falls into a coma, and Hortensia is acting… different. She‘s more hostile, easy to anger, yet also quiet and withdrawn. They try to help, but she won‘t let them, and they don‘t know what to do. Weland says he has no idea what caused this, but he‘ll do his best to help. Then, one night, under the control of the entity, Hortensia enters her parents bedchambers and attempts to kill them both. She succeeds with her father and tries to cut her mothers throat, but Melan escapes out of the window. It is believed she died later on. With both parents gone, “Hortensia“ is next in line for Queen. It is a sad day when she it crowned, and the beginning of a deadly rule. She places laws against magic usage, eventually banning it altogether in certain areas, and begins having books on magic and its history destroyed. Some mages join her side, fighting alongside her mostly because they are given more rights and are allowed to practice magic under heavy restrictions, though they can only use magic to assist the Queen. Radical anti-mage groups rise, mages are imprisoned for no reason at all, while others are killed in the streets like wild dogs. Panic breaks out, which the new Queen stamps down on by issuing raids, having mages either killed, arrested, or pledging themselves to the Queen. Mages are wiped out by the thousands, those who survived going into hiding, fearful of their friends, family, and neighbors. Anyone can rat you out if your a mage. Others pledge their allegiance with the Queen and move to the Royal City. Mages in the Royal City are not allowed to practice magic, but they are somewhat protected, though those who are out as mages still face heavy prejudice from non-mages. Within only a year the kingdom has been devastated and divided, and still Brigitta sleeps. Hortensia, the part of her that hasn‘t yet been destroyed by the dark entity, continues to do what she can for her sister. Hortensia‘s eyes have turned an unsettling black, her hair limp and lifeless, but she doesn‘t feel as drained as before. The entity, which refers to itself as The Darkness, grows stronger as time goes on.

A rebellion is formed right under the Queen‘s nose, small at first but growing larger and stronger and including people from the Royal City, and even people from within the castle. One man, a cadet named Ekward, is working for the Rebellion and gives them whatever information he can. He‘s surrounded by hateful mages who feel as though they‘ve been forced to work for the Queen, and they take out much of their aggression on him. Despite being unevenly matched against people who have magic, Ekward wins every fight, and catches the attention of the Queen. Suddenly he finds himself being made her personal guard, constantly under supervision and heavy question. This position does allow him access to crucial information for the Rebellion, though he must tread carefully lest he be found out to be treasonous.

This is the time my story Fallen Magic takes place, though the main characters don‘t know about the Darkness or Hortensia‘s backstory.

#fantasy #art #anon answered #artistsupport #artists on tumblr #yes i love my own oc’s very much come at me #original characters #fallen magic #hortensia #evil queen #the darkness #original story #original writing #fantasy writing #royalists #rebellion #ekward #melan #Rown #Brigitta #adventure #writing #writer #backstory #story writing #procreate #digital art #drawing

[tilleystrong4]

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[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Nia just needed a friend to do a hard mall trip. Trying out dresses. For a formal dance. And hey, maybe Lena and Kara are mad at each other but... She just needs Lena okay?

When Lena receives a call from an unknown number, she almost ignores it. But just enough people spread her phone number that she answers it on the off chance it might be someone who needs her.

“Lena Luthor, how can I help you?”

“Lena, please don’t hang up.”

The voice is familiar, but Lena can’t place it until the voice continues.

“It’s Nia. Nia Nal? And I know--” Lena almost hangs up right then-- not because it’s Nia, but because Nia treads dangerously close to a subject Lena is dead set on avoiding. Almost. “I know you have no reason to take my call, but… I need your help.”

Lena almost hangs up. She doesn’t.

“What do you need?”

---

The crisis, Lena learns, is that Nia has been given the assignment of her life covering the Golden Globes ceremony being hosted in downtown National City, but has nothing even remotely appropriate to wear. The mundanity of it all is so far from what Lena expects that it’s long moments before the words fully register.

“Uh, Lena…?”

“I’m here,” Lena says quickly, clearing her throat. She leans forward in her chair, rattling off an address. “Meet me there tomorrow at 11am.”

The next day, a few minutes after eleven, Nia walks up to Lena outside of Sylvie with hesitation all over her face. “Lena?”

Lena tucks her phone away and turns towards Nia with a professional but bright grin. “Nia, you made it.”

“Uhm, yeah actually… I kinda thought I’d gotten lost…”

Lena looks at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Lena, I can’t afford anything on this boulevard, are you crazy??”

Oh.

“You’re not paying,” Lena says simply.

Wide eyes blink at her in shock. “What? No! No, Lena, I can’t ask you to do that--”

“I’m offering.”

“Look, I was thinking we could just go to the mall--”

“The mall.”

Nia quails under Lena’s judgement, and Lena softens.

“Nia, you are about to be on the red carpet, covering an event that could catapult your career into the stratosphere. I think that warrants something a little more than what a department store can offer.”

“But…” Nia continues to protest, but uncertainty colors her features, and Lena knows she’s slipped under her guard. Carefully, Lena places a hand on Nia’s wrist.

“I won’t force you to accept what I’m offering,” she says gently. “But calling a Luthor for help means calling for a Luthor solution-- and nothing says Luthor more than shopping at the best boutique in town.”

Nia nods, but she ducks her chin with a swallow. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t want you to think that’s why I called, you know?” Nia expels a sigh, working a harried hand through her hair. “It’s just that Kara was supposed to come with me for moral support, but she’s had to cancel four times and the ceremony is in three days and if Andrea hears one more time that I don’t have a dress, she’s going to kill me…”

“Nia,” Lena says softly. Nia stops, and meets Lena’s gaze with a hesitant one of her own. “I would never think you were calling for a hand out. I’m offering.” Nia still looks uncertain, but Lena holds her gaze. “You asked for help… so let me help.”

Nia considers her words, studying Lena carefully. Finally, she wraps her arms around herself with a steadying sigh. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure.”

Nia follows a few paces behind as Lena turns and approaches the door to the shop, lingering to let Lena be the one to press the buzzer to be allowed in. But as they near, the door opens for them, ready and waiting to admit them.

Luthors don’t use buzzers.

“Welcome to Sylvie.” A pair of well groomed attendants relieve them of their purses, exchanging their bags for a couple flutes of champagne offered by a third.

“Thank you,” Lena replies easily, well versed in the practice. Nia fumbles a step behind, her movements stiff and uncertain. Instead of moving directly into the belly of the store as she usually did, Lena lingers, allowing Nia the chance to take in the shop for the first time. The showroom looks much like any other, as could be glimpsed through the windows, styled with clean lines and immaculately dressed mannequins. The true Sylvie experience, however, happens further in, beyond the curtains that separate the dressing rooms from the rest of the store.

“If you’ll follow me, ladies, I’ll show you to your dressing room.”

Lena wonders what Nia expected as they approached one of the curtained off areas. Perhaps a cramped alcove like the hollywood thrift stores shown in coming-of-age films, where your elbows knocked the walls as you changed and you’d be lucky to find a stool to put your own clothes. Certainly it isn’t the plush, spacious room that awaits them, if Nia’s wide eyes are anything to go by.

Charnelle waits for them at the curtain. “Welcome, ladies,” she greets, parting the curtain so that Lena and Nia can slip inside. “Lena, lovely to see you again.”

“And you,” Lena returns.

“I’m Charnelle,” she introduces herself to Nia. “Wonderful to meet you. I’ll be assisting the two of you today.”

“Thankyousomuch,” Nia says in a rush, her shoulders tight as she shakes Charnelle’s offered hand.

Charnelle allows the curtains to close behind them, isolating them in their own little pocket of divine luxury. Lena settles herself on the central chaise lounge, folding her legs elegantly before her. Nia perches on the edge beside her, her gaze flicking to the small boudoir in one corner and another curtain that shields the actual changing area. Inside there, Lena knows Nia will find a plush bench to sit on as she undresses, and gold hangers to hold her clothes while she tries on various gowns. It’s designed to be beyond comfortable, a place where one could spend hours-- and lots and lots of money.

“So, what do you have for us today, Lena? Another benefit gala to dazzle?”

“Actually,” Lena replies, “Miss Nal here is covering the Golden Globes this week for CatCo Worldwide.”

“How exciting!” Charnelle rounds on Nia. “And what are you looking for in your gown?”

Caught with a mouthful of champagne, Nia freezes, then swallows audibly. “Um…” she coughs out. “Something nice? I probably shouldn’t be outdressing the stars or anything, so nothing too crazy?” She shrugs. “I don’t know, exactly.”

“Charnelle,” Lena intercedes, “could you bring us some formal options in black, maroon, or blue? Floor length, of course.”

Charnelle nods, beaming. “Absolutely.” She gives Nia a wink. “She has your colors nailed, honey. What are your measurements?”

Nia stares at them both. “Uh. A six, usually?”

“They’ll need your measurements to ensure a proper fit,” Lena delivers gently. “Do you mind if Charnelle--?”

“I’m trans!” Nia blurts, her chinks coloring a solid ear-to-ear pink. “Sorry,” she adds quietly. “But-- yeah. Just so you know.”

Lena stares, surprised more by the outburst than its content, but Charnelle takes it in stride. “So am I, baby girl,” she responds smoothly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have a dress that fits.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Nia finally, finally relaxes. She offers a shaky grin. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Charnelle gives Nia’s wrist a squeeze on her way to the boudoir to pull a tape measure from the top drawer. While she’s busy, Lena catches Nia’s eye and lifts her glass in a silent cheers of support. Nia rewards her with a small smile, before Charnelle returns and makes quick work of measuring Nia’s bust, waist and hips.

“All right!” Charnelle chirps, wrapping up her tape. “I’ll be right back with some options. You two stay here and get comfortable, all right? I’ll be right back.”

She disappears, and Nia all but collapses onto the chaise next to Lena. “I can’t believe I did that,” she groans.

Lena pats her on the knee. “You’re all right. Sylvie only gets my business because they know the value of discretion.”

“Yeah.” Nia lifts her head with a hum, surveying the dressing room once more. “This is nice. Thank you for talking me into it.”

Lena smirks. “Just wait.”

As if on cue, the curtains part to admit not Charnelle, but the woman who’d offered them their drinks. This time, her tray holds an array of small finger sandwiches. “Refreshments?”

“Oh, wow!” Nia exclaims, quickly helping herself to three. “Okay, yeah. I could get used to this.”

Lena grins, snaring a cucumber sandwich for herself. “Thank you. And another round, if you could,” she adds, seeing Nia’s empty glass.

The woman nods. “Of course.”

When she has disappeared again, the dressing room fills with quiet, and Lena realizes that she doesn’t have a clue what to say. She’s gone shopping with her mother, and with Andrea, and in both cases the conversation flowed easily, for better or for worse. But she’s never been shopping with a girl several years her junior, and never one in the middle of Lena’s biggest heartbreak.

“It happened the last time I went shopping for a dress too,” Nia says, breaking the silence. “The anxiety about… you know. I guess something about formal wear brings out the worst of it.”

Unsure of how to respond, Lena looks at her. “When was the last time?”

Nia sighs. “Prom. I’d transitioned by then, and most people were used to me, but I didn’t have a date, and part of me just internalized it as a fixture of me not being girly enough, and not, you know, the fact I didn’t know how to talk to boys, let alone date them. I didn’t even know if it was worth it to go at all, and I just-- started crying, right there in the dress shop.”

“What happened then?” Lena asks gently.

Nia smiles fondly. “My mom. She just hugged me, and told me how proud she was to have such a beautiful, confident daughter. It was sort of embarrassing at the time, but… it was something I needed to hear, you know?”

She pauses then as the server returns with their champagne. Afte the woman dips out again, Lena nudges her. “And did you ever find a dress?”

Nia snorts, nodding. “Yeah. Like, two minutes after I calmed down I found my dream dress. And my friends and I had a blast at prom, so I’m glad I went after all.”

“Good,” Lena murmurs, sipping her drink. “Well, I can’t promise anything about a dream dress, but I’ll call it a win if we get out of here without any tears.”

“Cheers to that,” Nia concurs, lifting her own glass for a deep sip.

In that moment, Charnelle returns, wheeling a short cart of long dresses along with her.

“All right, ladies-- who’s ready to see some gowns?”

---

Nia settles on a bias-cut gown of sky blue, accented with beaded embroidery at the bust and straps. It may not have qualified for dream status, but it’s perfect for the Globes, and Lena can tell Nia is excited by the time they step back out onto the street, garment bag draped over her arm.

“Thank you, again,” Nia offers, hiking her purse higher on her shoulder. “You really didn’t have to do all this, especially with how weird things are right now. I know it probably wasn’t easy to say yes when I called last night.”

Lena blinks. It honestly hadn’t occurred to her to say no. “Nia?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you call me?” It’s her turn now to shift uncomfortably on her feet. “I’m always happy to help, but… as you say, things are weird. Why me?”

“Honestly?” Nia asks. Lena nods. “You remind me of my mom. I can’t begin to tell you how or why, but you do. And the thing is… my mom was probably the kindest person I’ve ever known. So-- if you reminded me of her, I figured you were a pretty safe bet. And the worst you could do was hang up on me, so…”

Right.

Lena nods, her throat locking painfully around a sudden lump in her throat. Forcing a smile, she clears her throat. “Okay. Well… I’m glad I was able to help. Are you okay to get home?”

Nia nods easily. “Yeah, I’ll just catch the bus. Thank you again. This was really nice, and it was really good to see you.”

Lena nods, but before she can turn away, Nia catches her by the wrist.

“I mean it, Lena. I owe you one. If you ever need anything…”

Lena turns her wrist, allowing her hand to settle into Nia’s palm. Giving it a squeeze, Lena offers her a smile.

“I know who to call.”

// prompts are closed

#lena and nia #brotp #trying on dresses #nia and lena go shopping #prompt filled #quarantine prompt party 2.0 #GUESS WHO'S WRITING #AND FINALLY CATCHING UP ON THE PROMPTS SITTING IN HER INBOX #*jabs thumbs at self* this guy!! #this was fun #thanks nonnie

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Out of Reach | Ralvez

This was for my milestone build-a-blurb which I am still taking requests for. The lovely @andiebeaword requested 😇 innocence kink, 😈Dom! Spencer,🫦biting kink, 🍆 sex toys, 🔪 knife play with Luke Alvez as an optional side character which to me just read as a Ralvez fic (I’m sure she won’t mind 😉)

Summary - Spencer and Luke are both unhappily married to different people. But when they meet each other at a swingers party, anything can happen.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Luke Alvez

Category - utter filthy smut (minors DNI), some angst (obviously), happy ending.

Content Warnings - swinging, unhappy marriages, swearing, innocent Luke and experience Spencer, masturbation, biting kink, knife play, some mentions of blood, oral sex, slightly Dom! Spencer, fingering, sex toys, mild angst, cheating.

Word Count - 7k

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

Spencer Reid was a natural observer. All his years with the Behavioural Analysis Unit had taught him those kinds of skills he’d never be able to unlearn. 

Even in situations where he didn’t necessarily want to observe those around him, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t shut it off. 

He knew the man across the room saw him, it wasn’t exactly as though Spencer was being subtle. 

The other man was clearly uncomfortable in this environment. Spencer understood that he'd been the same when he first started coming here. 

Swinging had been his husband's idea. After being married five years their sex life had started growing stale and Ethan made suggestions to spice things up. 

After saying “I do,” Spencer never thought he’d find himself in the situation of sleeping with anyone other than his husband. Ethan had no problem fitting right in, whereas Spencer had been tentative. 

Ethan had slept with someone on their first visit to a swingers party and Spencer wasn’t surprised. His husband was charismatic and beautiful, everyone gravitated towards him. 

It had taken Spencer several parties to loosen up before he’d even dared talk to anyone let alone sleep with them. 

But now it had been going on a year since he and Ethan had been part of this lifestyle and Spencer was part of the furniture now. 

Sometimes he worried just how much he enjoyed men who weren’t his husband fucking him. Maybe that would be something they talked through on a therapist's couch one day. 

The man that had Spencer’s attention tonight was clearly new, Spencer would have recognised a face like that. But also his nervous posture and the way he clung to the walls reminded Spencer of himself when he first started coming here. 

The man glanced up from his solo cup, straight into Spencer’s eyes. 

Spencer thought he was just about one of the most beautiful men he’d ever laid eyes on. He was all sharp angles with a chiselled jaw line covered in stubble. His eyes were an intense shade of brown that Spencer was sure he’d have no trouble getting lost in. 

His tight shirt hugged his muscular biceps and Spencer wanted those arms to pin him down. 

The man gave him a shy half smile before taking a sip of his drink and averted his gaze. 

Spencer felt a magnetic force pulling him closer to the man. He felt like he needed to know him just after one look. 

He started across the room, ignoring the mingling people drinking and making out with each other but Spencer didn’t pay them any mind. He was honed in on the dark and handsome stranger, tunnel visioned on only him. 

He looked back up from his drink, sensing a presence just as Spencer reached him. 

“First time, right?” Spencer smiled kindly at him, hoping to help put him at ease. 

“That obvious, huh?” The man chuckled. 

He had a thick accent, probably a New Yorker, Spencer thought. 

“Kind of, yeah.” Spencer laughed too. “Where’s your partner?”

“Uh…she went off with a guy. Dark hair, beardy type.” 

“Cocky son of a bitch?” Spencer raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“That would be my husband.” Spencer smirked. 

The man gave Spencer a curious look and Spencer knew exactly what that look meant, he’d seen it enough at these parties.

“He always told me he was gay.” Spencer smiled wistfully. “But since we’ve started coming to these parties he’s been much more…flexible with his sexuality.” 

“That doesn’t bother you?” The man scrutinised him. 

“It used to, I guess. But I’ve gotten used to it. Ethan is…” he mused for the right word. “Ethan is simply Ethan.” 

“I don’t know that I’m just going to get used to the idea of Lisa sleeping with other men.” He looked sadly down into his drink. 

“I didn’t think I would either, but once you loosen up, meet someone here who takes your fancy…it’s kind of fun.” Spencer chuckled. 

“So you aren’t always a wallflower like me then?” He looked back up at Spencer and his eyes sparkled a little. 

“No, not always. I’ve had my share of partners.” Spencer admitted. 

“How did you…?” He trailed off but Spencer’s profiling skills told him what the man wanted to ask.

“How did I end up here?” 

“Yeah.”

“Ethan and I have known each other since we were kids back in Las Vegas. I didn’t realise I liked boys until he kissed me for the first time. He was my first, in every way. But he wasn’t the settling down type. When I was twenty two I got offered a job in DC. For whatever reason that prompted him to decide he couldn’t live without me so he came with me. 

That was fifteen years ago and we’ve been together ever since. Things were great between us. And then we finally got married five years ago and…things haven’t quite been the same since.” 

“Marriage will do that.” The man sipped his drink. “Lisa and I were together eight months before we drunkenly decided to get married. That was two years ago and I’m pretty sure she’s been looking for an out ever since. Does it help? Coming here? Has it helped your marriage?” 

“Yes and no.” Spencer shrugged. “Our sex life is better than it’s ever been. But we don’t really communicate anymore. Not the way we used to. But that’s just us, it’s different for everyone.” 

“Right.” He sighed with a small nod. 

Spencer thought he was utterly intoxicating. Completely unprovoked he sidled closer to the man, placing his hand gently on his shoulder. 

“Have you ever been with a man?” Spencer smirked in what he hoped to be a seductive manner. 

The man swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath flesh that Spencer wanted to suck on. 

“I uh…experimented in college.” His voice was slightly shaky. “I’ve never uh…slept with a man but I’ve done…things.” 

“Things huh?” Spencer moved his hand from the man’s shoulder around to the back of his neck. “What kind of…things?”

The man parted his lips and a soft moan slipped between them. 

Spencer was growing hard in his pants and he would have bet if he looked down he would have seen the other man was too. 

“I uh…you know…” his cheeks flushed a dark shade of red and Spencer loved the effect he was having on him. 

He leaned in closer to the other man’s ear and whispered, “you have the perfect lips for sucking cock.”

The man gasped loudly and Spencer knew he had him. It wouldn’t take much to have this guy upstairs in one of the bedrooms on his knees for him. 

But then a strong set of hands were on Spencer’s hips and he was being tugged away from the man and spun around. 

Ethan kissed him frantically and slightly messily. 

“Ready to get out of here, baby?” Ethan spoke into his lips. 

“Uh yeah, sure.” Spencer’s confidence from a moment before had vanished. Ethan seemed to have that effect on him. 

Ethan gave Spencer’s ass a firm squeeze before they pulled away from each other. 

“Who’s this?” Ethan smiled at the man who was looking so uncomfortable, like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. 

“This is…” Spencer trailed off, realising he didn’t know the man’s name. 

“Luke. Luke Alvez.” 

“Alvez?” Ethan smirked. “Your wife is just…cleaning up.” 

Luke tried to hide the annoyance from his face. Sure Ethan was attractive but Luke took an instant dislike to him. What had his wife seen in him? 

“I’m Spencer by the way.” Spencer offered him a shy wave and it was a stark contrast to how confident he’d been moments before. 

Ethan snaked his arm around Spencer’s waist, tugging him closer. 

“Let's go shall we? I can’t wait to get you home.” Ethan squeezed his side with a chuckle and Spencer simply nodded. 

He glanced back at Luke who practically cowered against the wall. 

“Nice to meet you, maybe I’ll see you again?” Spencer’s voice was nervous now, almost shaky. 

Ethan’s presence had completely changed his whole demeanour. 

“Yeah, maybe.” Luke nodded and watched as Ethan pulled Spencer away. 

He watched them go, watched the way Spencer shrunk in on himself next to Ethan. 

Luke knew all about losing yourself in a marriage. But tonight, with Spencer he’d seen a glint of his old self. 

And he would do anything to see Spencer again. 

***

It was another three weeks before Ethan dragged Spencer to another party. The second they were through the door, Ethan was gone, leaving Spencer to amuse himself.

He spent a while mingling and couldn’t help feeling downtrodden when he didn’t spot the face of the one person he wanted to see. 

Spencer found himself ruminating on their last encounter. If it hadn’t been for Ethan’s terrible timing, he was sure he would have had Luke on his knees for him. 

Being around Luke had ignited something in Spencer. He’d spent his whole life being submissive, bending to Ethan’s every whim. 

But that brief conversation with Luke had allowed Spencer to be the confident one, the one in charge for a change and it was more arousing than he’d expected. 

He hadn’t realised it until now but Ethan had left him powerless. And in that short encounter with Luke, Spencer felt powerful again. 

There was something so naive and innocent about Luke that Spencer found incredibly sexy. Images of what could have been at that last party clouded his brain until he was so hard he had to do something about it. 

He slipped upstairs and found an empty bedroom where he quickly fell back to the bed and tugged his slacks and pants down just enough to free his cock. 

He closed his eyes as he wrapped his hand around his shaft and pictured Luke dropping to his knees and taking him in his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Spencer was already panting at that thought, harder than he’d probably ever been. 

He stroked himself hard and fast, screwing up the bedsheets in his free hand. 

His head was already leaking with precum as he thought of Luke’s perfect lips wrapping around him and taking him all the way in his mouth. 

His toes curled in his converse and his back arched off the bed. The images behind his eyes of Luke on his knees, Spencer fucking his mouth until he came. Watching Luke swallow every little bit of his orgasm and kissing him afterwards so he could taste himself on his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Spencer moaned, increasing his speed. 

He was already stupidly close just thinking of Luke, he didn’t think he’d ever been this turned on before in his life. 

He was panting and writhing on the bed, wishing the other man’s hard body was pressing up against his. 

Those delicious eyes that Spencer could get lost in staring down at him, muttering to him to come. 

“Fuck, fuck…I’m so close Luke.” He mumbled, his eyes fluttering open. 

Spencer wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not when he saw those eyes staring back at him. 

“Fuck…Luke?” He panted, biting down on his bottom lip as his orgasm ripped through him. 

Luke stood in the doorway, eyes trained on Spencer’s cock as he spilled his load over his hand and shirt. 

Luke’s eyes were wide and his cheeks were bright red. 

Spencer was quick to jump up, tucking his sticky dick away his pants, his own cheeks flushed. 

“Shit. Fuck. Luke…hi.” He stood up, buckling his belt and looking a picture of guilt. 

But he couldn’t help but notice the tent pitched in Luke’s pants. 

“I’m sorry.” Luke croaked. “I uh…just wanted a quiet place to sit.” 

“I…I should have locked the door.” Spencer shrugged. 

A look passed by Luke’s eyes and Spencer wasn’t sure what it was until Luke pressed the palm of his hand against his cock through his pants. 

“You said my name.” Luke whimpered a little as he spoke. 

“I did.” Spencer agreed. “I uh…I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” 

Luke moaned as he pressed his hand harder against himself. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you either.” 

“I’m sure we can do something about that.” Spencer’s confidence came flooding back and he stepped closer to Luke. 

He removed Luke’s hand from his crotch and placed his own hand over Luke’s bulge making the other man moan again. 

“I…it’s been…a long time since I’ve…been with a man.” Luke breathed. 

“It’s just like riding a bike.” Spencer smirked, manoeuvring Luke back to sit on the edge of the bed. 

He was growing hard again himself, feeling slightly dizzy at the thought of touching Luke and being touched by him. 

“What do you like, Luke?” Spencer asked him as he sat himself in Luke’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. 

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“We all have our kinks.” Spencer chuckled. “What’s yours?” 

Luke swallowed and Spencer wasn’t sure he was going to tell him. But then he raised his shaky hands to the top button of his shirt. 

He undid a few buttons until it was open enough for him to shrug it over his shoulders. 

Spencer hissed, grinding down into Luke’s lap at the sight. 

Luke’s collarbones and shoulders were peppered with bite marks in various stages of heeling. Perfect indentations of teeth impressions lined his beautiful skin and Spencer felt delirious. 

“You like to be bitten huh?” Spencer smirked at him. 

“Y-yes.” Luke nodded. 

Spencer surprised him when he suddenly got up from his lap, and Luke whined a little. 

Spencer laughed as he moved around the bed, kneeling on it and coming up behind Luke, wrapping his arms around his waist. 

He toyed with Luke’s belt buckle, quickly getting it undone before guiding Luke’s own hand to his pants. 

“Touch yourself.” Spencer whispered into Luke’s ear and Luke hissed and quickly complied in freeing himself and wrapping his hand around his shaft. 

When Spencer’s teeth suddenly sunk into his shoulder, Luke screamed and his hips bucked into his hand. 

Spencer sucked on Luke’s flesh, wanting to leave as many marks on him as possible. 

Luke stroked himself as Spencer’s mouth moved to the apex of his neck and bit down again. 

His skin was salty and Spencer loved the way it tasted on his tongue. 

“Fuck,” Luke whined, wriggling a little. “Fucking hell, Spencer.”

Spencer smirked against his neck and repeated his movement, biting down on Luke’s collarbone this time. His hands wrapped around his waist and worked on the rest of the buttons on his shirt until he could remove it completely.

Luke’s pumps were getting harder, almost aggressively jerking himself off. 

Spencer used his shoulders to guide him backwards until he was laying down. He knelt over Luke’s chest and lowered his lips to Luke’s nipple.

He was soft at first, sucking gently to create a false sense of security. 

When he sunk his teeth into Luke, Luke’s hips bucked upwards and he moaned so loudly the walls shook. 

“Fuck,” Luke panted. “Don’t stop, please? I’m so close.” 

Spencer smiled to himself and moved his lips to Luke’s other nipple where he repeated the same actions. 

Once again Luke’s hips bucked and he moaned deeply. 

He nipped at the skin of Luke’s chest, looking up at him through his eyelids. 

Luke was staring back at him, cheeks flushed a sheen of sweat on his face. 

“Come for me.” Spencer spoke against Luke’s chest. “Come for me baby.” 

Luke moaned again and his body spasmed beneath him as his orgasm washed over him and he came. 

He was panting and mumbling incoherently as Spencer got back up to his feet. He stared down at Luke, his cock still in his hand and come splattered over his stomach. 

His chest and neck were red raw from Spencer’s assault and it made Spencer’s cock throb in his pants. 

Luke was still panting when he sat up, eyes searching Spencer’s. 

“Wh-what’s yours?” Luke’s breath was ragged as he spoke. 

Spencer had a good idea what he was talking about, but he wanted to hear Luke say it. 

“What’s my…?” 

Luke let go of his softening dick and tucked himself away but didn’t do his pants up. 

He stood up so he could look at Spencer properly. 

“You said everyone has a kink. What’s yours?”

“You couldn’t handle mine.” Spencer smirked darkly. 

“Try me.” Luke goaded him. 

Spencer shrugged and his hands went to the buttons of his shirt. 

Luke watched him undone the shirt and then shrug it off his shoulders and land in a pile on the floor. 

From his chest to his stomach, Spencer’s porcelain skin was blemished with small scars and cuts. Spencer watched Luke’s eyes graze over every single one of them, eyes wide. 

When he looked back at Spencer, his eyes questioned him. 

“Knife play.” Spencer raised an eyebrow at him. “I get off on the pain.” 

“You do or your husband does?” Luke frowned at him causing Spencer to chuckle.

“I’ll admit I would do just about anything Ethan asked me to.” Spencer confessed. “And at first, yes it was his idea.” 

“You can’t seriously like that?” Luke’s frown grew heavier. 

“There’s something about pleasure combined with pain that is unlike anything else in this whole world.” Spencer reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small pen knife. “Why don’t you see just how much I like it?”

Luke didn’t reach for the pen knife, instead he just stared at the device in Spencer’s open palm. 

“I’m not…I’m not doing that to you.” Luke shook his head. 

Spencer shrugged, flicking open the pen knife and proffering the blade. 

Luke’s eyes grew wider as he watched Spencer take the blade to his own chest and without hesitation, swipe it down his skin. 

He moaned, his cock painfully throbbing in his pants at the sensation. 

Luke watched the blood trickle from the small wound and found himself fascinated by it. 

“You like to be bitten, it’s not that different. Pleasure and pain go hand in hand.” Spencer offered the knife again and this time Luke took it in his shaky hand. 

He looked from the blade to Spencer’s eyes which were practically begging him. 

Luke came closer and hovered the blade over Spencer’s pectoral muscle. 

Spencer nodded at him, telling him it was ok. 

Luke swallowed hard, gnawing on his bottom lip while Spencer pleaded with him with his eyes. 

With a deep breath, Luke pierced his skin with the knife, creating a small cut just above his nipple. 

Spencer moaned, hips jutting forward at the feeling. 

His pupils were blown out, darker than Luke thought was possible. 

“Again.” Spencer panted and this time Luke didn’t hesitate so much when he cut him again. 

“Fuck!” Spencer smiled, his hand going to palm himself through his pants. “Again.” 

Once again Luke cut him and the sounds it elicited from Spencer was enough to make Luke hard again. 

Spencer surprised him when he suddenly took the knife from him and tossed it to the floor. He grabbed hold of Luke’s face and crashed their lips together. 

He pressed his body against Luke’s as his tongue dove inside his mouth. Luke could feel Spencer blood against his skin, warm and sticky. 

Spencer simultaneously worked on getting them both out of their pants and Luke thought he’d find this whole situation a lot weirder than he did. 

Being with Spencer felt completely natural. The way the other man kissed him, taking the lead and turning Luke into an utter mess was electrifying. He’d never felt anything like it. 

Once Spencer had freed them both from their slacks and underwear he stepped back to admire Luke. 

“Good god, look at you.” Spencer smirked and it made Luke shudder. “You are fucking perfect.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“You…uh…you’re not so bad yourself.” 

Spencer chuckled, cupping Luke’s jaw in his hand. 

“Get on the bed for me, baby.” He whispered, softly yet sternly. 

Luke nodded dumbly and did as he was told. He laid down on his back on the mattress and seconds later Spencer was climbing on top of him. 

He fixed their lips together again, grinding their erections against each other. 

Luke moaned into his mouth, hands tentatively wandering Spencer’s back. 

Spencer always felt slightly inadequate in every aspect of his life, always lost in Ethan’s shadow. Spencer never felt like he existed outside of Ethan, as though without him he would crumble entirely.

But now with this gorgeous man beneath him, allowing Spencer the power he so sorely craved, Spencer had never felt a rush like it. 

Ethan had stripped him of everything he’d once been and it was only now Spencer was realising that. He was more than just Ethan’s husband. He was so much more than that. 

The way Luke looked at him as Spencer grinded against him was as though he hung the moon. No one had ever looked at Spencer that way before. 

The look in Luke’s eyes made Spencer feel worthy. It gave him a confidence he’d never felt before. 

He bowed his head to Luke’s ear, swiping his tongue along his lobe.

“Have you ever sucked dick, Luke?” 

Luke moaned at his words, bucking his hips against Spencer’s. 

“Y-yes.” He panted. 

“Good.” Spencer nibbled on Luke’s ear before suddenly pushing himself off of the other man. 

Luke whined a little at the lack of contact and watched as Spencer got to his feet. 

“Get up.” Spencer demanded and Luke complied, putty in Spencer’s hands. 

He stood in front of Spencer while Spencer traced his finger over Luke’s jawline. 

“On your knees, pretty boy.” Spencer instructed him and once again, Luke was dumb to do anything but what this man was asking of him. 

He crashed to the floor on his knees and if he wasn’t so turned on, it might have hurt. 

Spencer looked down at him, one hand finding Luke’s hair and gripping it hard. 

“You look so good like that, on your knees just for me.” Spencer had learnt all he needed to know about dominating someone from years spent with Ethan. 

Spencer was no more than his husband's puppet and it was only now he was truly seeing how much he’d longed for some kind of control. 

Luke’s hands came to Spencer’s hips and gripped him hard. Spencer tugged on his hair, causing Luke to whimper. 

“Open that pretty little mouth for me.” Spencer spat a little harshly but Luke did as he was told. 

When Spencer thrust his way inside of Luke’s waiting mouth, the other man gagged a little at the force, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

Spencer used Luke’s hair to tug him back and forth around his cock, fucking his way into Luke’s warm mouth with vigour. 

“Jesus Christ.” Spencer moaned as his cock hit the back of Luke’s throat. 

Luke hummed around him, happy to let Spencer do whatever he wanted to him. 

Luke was so caught up in the moment he didn’t hear the door open. 

Spencer’s eyes shot up and met his husband’s gaze and suddenly all his confidence left him. 

“Well isn’t this a sight?” Ethan smirked, walking into the room. 

His shirt was undone and hung off his shoulders and his zipper on his pants wasn’t done up. 

Hearing Ethan’s voice, Luke went to pull off Spencer but there was a hand on the back of his head keeping him in place. 

“Don’t stop.” Ethan told him sternly. “Does that feel good baby?”

Spencer simply nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

He’d stilled his movements, leaving it up to Luke to do the work now Spencer’s confidence had vanished. 

Luke didn’t mind although he wasn’t sure how he felt about having an audience. 

Ethan moved behind Spencer and wrapped his arms around his husband’s torso. 

“He made you bleed, baby?” Ethan cooed against Spencer’s ear as he found the fresh cuts on his chest. 

“Hmmm.” Spencer whimpered. 

“You do like to bleed don’t you, Spencie?” Ethan chuckled, pinching Spencer’s nipples between his fingers. 

At the same time, Luke took his cock all the way in his mouth again and Spencer whined pathetically. 

Ethan placed surprisingly gentle kisses on Spencer’s jawline before roughly gripping his chin in his hand and turning his head before plunging his tongue in his mouth. 

Spencer moaned into the kiss as Luke’s tongue glided up the underside of his shaft. Ethan’s hold on his jaw tightened and Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if he left bruises. 

His dick was leaking already, his legs buckling slightly beneath him. 

Ethan kissed him hard for a moment before suddenly pulling away from Spencer’s lips. He dropped to his knees and placed kisses on Spencer’s ass cheeks. 

“W-what are you doing?” Spencer panted, feeling dangerously close to his climax. 

He looked down on Luke who was looking back up at him through his lashes while Ethan’s nails dug into his cheeks. 

“You want someone to fuck you, don’t you?” Ethan growled. 

Yes, he did want someone to fuck him, he just didn’t want that someone being his husband. 

He heard Ethan spit in his hand and without warning, two fingers plunged inside of him. 

“Fuck!” Spencer jutted forward into Luke’s mouth making the man choke a little. 

Spencer gave him an apologetic look and used Luke’s head to balance himself. 

Ethan scissored his fingers, diving in and out of Spencer while Luke continued to work his dick with his mouth. 

It was almost overwhelming. Spencer had never had two men pleasure him at the same time and he thought he might pass out. 

His stomach clenched and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

He gave Luke’s hair a gentle tug. 

“I’m close.” He whined which caused Ethan to thrust a third finger inside of him. 

“Come on his mouth, baby.” Ethan cooed. “You’ll love the way he tastes, Luke.” 

“F-fuck.” Spencer whined again, his balls throbbing. “Fuck.”

Ethan’s fingers brushing against his sensitive spot sent Spencer spiralling. He thrust inside Luke’s mouth again as he came, spilling his load down Luke’s throat. 

Luke swallowed everything he had to give and Spencer’s legs were like jelly as Ethan continued to work him with his fingers. 

“Are you ready, baby?” Ethan sat back, removing his fingers and making Spencer whine. 

“Hmm.” Was all he could reply. 

Ethan and Luke both pushed themselves to their feet, both looking at Spencer. 

“Who do you want to fuck you, Spencer?” Ethan gripped his shoulders tightly. 

Spencer swallowed and he couldn’t help but look at Luke. Luke’s cheeks instantly flushed red. 

Ethan squeezed Spencer’s shoulders hard and chuckled dryly. 

“It’s ok.” He spoke to Luke. “I don’t mind. I have fucked your wife after all.” 

Luke swallowed hard. Yes he wanted to fuck Spencer, more than anything in the world if truth be told. But he’d never slept with another man before, least of all when their husband was watching. 

“You don’t have to.” Spencer told him softly. 

“Good god.” Ethan growled. “This is a huge boner killer.” 

He let go of Spencer’s shoulders and practically shoved his husband out of the way. 

“Maybe I’ll go find that lovely wife of yours Luke.” He smirked at Luke before pushing past him too and leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Still naked, Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, not making eye contact with Luke. 

“Sorry about him.” He spoke into his hands. 

“You don’t have to apologise on his behalf.” Luke came and sat next to him, cupping Spencer’s cheek and turning his face to look at him. “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with you, you know.” 

“No?” Spencer questioned, seeming so unsure of himself. 

Ethan’s presence had changed the man Luke was coming to know in such a drastic way. 

“No.” Luke smiled softly at him. “I’m just…I’ve never done that before and I didn’t really want my first time to be with your husband watching us. And uh…I’m not sure I’m quite ready.” 

Suddenly Spencer’s demeanour shifted once more and his eyes turned dark again. 

“Well I’m ready for it now. Something is going to fuck me.” He jumped up from the bed and Luke watched him run over to his satchel on the floor. 

Luke’s eyes were wide when Spencer returned with a large smile and two items in his hand. 

The first was a simple bottle of lubricant. But it was the second that made Luke’s eyes bulge out of his head. 

It was a purple toy, long and softly ribbed with a tapered head that Luke could already tell had been well used in the past. 

Spencer laid down on the bed and spread his legs, Luke just stared dumbly at him. 

“What?” Spencer smirked, coating his hand in lube before rubbing it over the toy. “If you don’t want to fuck me, that’s fine. You can watch me fuck myself.”

Spencer dragged the toy down his body and lined it up. He kept eye contact with Luke while he slowly pushed it inside himself. 

Spencer moaned at the contact while all Luke could do was stare. Inch by inch the toy disappeared inside of Spencer while his face contorted in pleasure. 

Luke’s cock was almost immediately hard and he gripped the base of his shaft hard as he moaned. 

Spencer smirked at him, pulling the toy back almost all the way before plunging it back inside himself. 

“Fuck,” Spencer panted, a delicious smile on his lips. 

“Does it…does it feel good?” Luke whined. 

“You have no idea.” Spencer continued moving the toy in and out of himself, slamming it back inside and moaning viscerally each time. 

Luke was stroking himself, in complete awe of what he was witnessing. Spencer looked almost ethereal as he laid there, hair settled around him on the pillow like a halo. 

Luke shuffled closer to him, laying down next to him on the bed. Spencer turned his head to the side and Luke captured his lips in a kiss. 

“You have no idea how hot you look like this.” Luke mumbled against his lips. 

He felt Spencer smirk into the kiss and could feel the way his body jerked each time he buried the toy inside himself. 

Luke leant up on his elbow and his fingertips grazed down Spencer’s arm, coming to a stop at his wrists

Their eyes locked as Spencer stilled his movements. 

“Can I?” Luke chewed his lip bashfully as he asked. 

Spencer nodded and let Luke take the toy from his hand. Luke started slowly, burying it all the way back inside of Spencer while he watched the other man’s eyes flutter closed. 

Spencer moaned, rocking a little on the bed as Luke pulled it almost all the way out and then plunged it back in again. 

With his eyes still closed, Spencer reached and started stroking himself in time with Luke’s ministrations with the toy. 

Luke positioned himself back on his knees so he could stroke himself too, and gave him a better view of Spencer in the process. 

The shifting of the mattress caused Spencer’s eyes to open again and went straight to where Luke was touching himself. 

Spencer hissed as the toy was thrust harder inside of him. 

“Oh fuck,” Spencer moaned, squeezing the base of his shaft. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good. Make me come, baby.” 

Luke groaned loudly, hips jutting forward a little feeling dangerously close to the edge. He picked up his pace with the toy, repeatedly slamming it into Spencer. 

“So fucking good baby, you’re so fucking good to me.” Spencer was practically whining as he spoke and one more hard thrust of the toy inside of him and his orgasm snuck up on him. 

He came over his stomach, mumbling incoherently. 

The sight of Spencer coming undone sent Luke spiralling towards his own climax and he dropped the toy as his body spasmed and he came on Spencer’s stomach too. 

Panting and sweating, Spencer reached for Luke and pulled him down next to him, kissing him sloppily. 

Luke held Spencer’s face in his hands while they kissed, their bodies tangling together. 

“Tonight has been…” Spencer mumbled. 

“Yeah.” Luke chuckled. “Maybe I can see you outside of one of these parties?” 

“I’d love that.” Spencer sighed, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. “But there is no way I can be around you without wanting to jump your bones.”

“I don’t see a problem with that?” Luke chuckled a little. 

“It’s different at the parties.” Spencer gently stroked Luke’s hair back off his face. “In here, what we do is ok, you know? The whole point is to sleep with other people. But there are rules associated with this lifestyle. Out in the real world…”

“It’s cheating.” Luke filled in for him. 

“Exactly.” Spencer smiled sadly. “And we’re both married.” 

“Yeah.” Luke nodded, suddenly rolling over and sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Unhappily.” 

“We’re still married though.” Spencer sat up too and tried to put his arms around Luke but Luke pushed him away. 

He stood up and started pulling his clothes back on while Spencer sat sadly watching him. 

“We still have the party’s Luke. Hey, maybe next time we can even go all the way.” Spencer teased but Luke just scoffed. 

“No.” He shook his head, pulling his slacks on. “I can’t…with you…like this.” 

Luke didn’t look at Spencer as he pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Spencer gnawed on his lip. “But don’t blame me because we’re married. That’s not fair. If you wanted me badly enough you could have me.”

“But not the way I want.” He suddenly spun back to face Spencer and Spencer saw the tears in his eyes. “Goddamnit we’ve spent two nights together and I am already completely infatuated by you. And I know feelings are not supposed to be involved here but I can’t help it. I’ve never…I’ve never felt like this before. It’s fucking dumb I know, but I can’t help it. So if I can’t have you, all of you, I don’t want any part of you.”

“Luke, please don’t be like this. I-“

“Goodbye, Spencer.” Luke shook his head sadly and then he was throwing open the door and slamming it shut behind him. 

Spencer felt tears in his eyes as he looked down at his wedding ring. 

Was it absolutely crazy that he was considering leaving the man he’d spent damn near half of his life with over a man he’d met twice? 

Yes, of course that was insane. He loved Ethan. Ethan was his whole world. 

But Spencer wasn’t himself with Ethan. Luke allowed Spencer to be the person he truly was and didn’t try to diminish him or change him. 

Luke saw the person Spencer really was. 

The truth was, Spencer hadn’t even known who he was when met Ethan. He’d been young and impressionable and Ethan had moulded him into the person he wanted Spencer to be. 

Spencer never had a chance to forge his own personality. 

Maybe Ethan had been holding him back all these years, keeping Spencer from reaching his full potential. 

Maybe Ethan wasn’t the one big love of Spencer’s life. 

Spencer didn’t know how long he sat for, naked with his head in his hands until Ethan’s voice pulled him out of his stupor. 

He dressed while Ethan went on about his night and didn’t even seem perturbed by Spencer’s obvious disinterest. 

They drove home and had sex but Spencer’s mind was entirely elsewhere. 

How could he miss something so much that he’d never even really had? Why did his heart ache so much for a man he barely knew? 

Why did it feel as though Luke Alvez was supposed to play a bigger part in his life than he had? 

He guessed he’d never know. 

***

Each party Spencer and Ethan went to for the next few months, Spencer would spend his whole time looking for Luke. 

But each time, Luke was never there. 

He didn’t think it was reasonable how much he missed him. But reasonable or not Spencer missed him more and more with each passing day. 

In time maybe he’d forget about him. In time maybe he’d learn to be happy with Ethan again. If he’d ever really been happy to begin with that is. 

Happiness felt like it was something that had always been just out of reach to Spencer. Try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to grasp it. 

Until he’d met Luke. 

But now he was sure he was never going to see him again and happiness once more became a pipe dream. 

Spencer returned home from his latest case earlier than planned but hadn’t had the energy to text Ethan to tell him. 

Ethan’s car was in the driveway when he got home as was expected. What wasn’t expected was the second car parked behind it. 

Spencer was tired and didn’t give it much thought. He stepped inside the house and hung his satchel up on the clothes hook. 

A woman’s purse hung from one of the hooks and Spencer scratched the back of his head in tired confusion. 

He kicked his shoes off and padded towards the stairs. 

He barely made it halfway up before a noise alerted him to what was going on under his roof.

Pants and moans filled the house, the sound of flesh hitting flesh. 

“Oh Ethan, fuck Ethan!” 

A woman’s voice filled his ears and sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine. 

His body flooded with anger but probably not for the right reasons. He wasn’t mad at Ethan for cheating on him, he was mad at being lied to. The fact that Ethan had a woman in their bed did not bother him as much as it should. 

Spencer slowly backed down the stairs towards the front door. He fished inside the woman’s purse for her wallet. If his husband was cheating on him, he at least deserved to know the woman’s name. 

He found her licence and honestly when he saw the name printed on the card a smile formed on his lips. 

Two simple words seemed to solve all of Spencer’s problems. 

His husband was cheating on him with Lisa Alvez. 

Spencer knew he should be sad as he slipped off his wedding ring and left it on the bureau by the door along with Lisa’s wallet. 

He should have been crying and screaming that Ethan could do this to him. 

But all Spencer felt was glad. 

He had an out. Ethan had given him an out from their marriage and he’d given Luke one too. 

So as Spencer fled the house again, he finally felt that long sought after happiness might just be in reach. 

***

Luke had fallen asleep on the couch as he often did recently and was woken by a frantic banging on his front door. 

He blinked a few times and scratched his head as he pushed himself up from the couch and padded to the front door. 

His eyes were still a little bleary and he had to blink a few more times to focus on the man standing on his doorstep. 

“Spencer?” He croaked, rubbing his eyes. “What the…how did you know where I live?” 

Spencer was grinning from ear to ear like a mad man. It had been months since he’d last seen him but Luke’s heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of him. 

“I got your address from your wife’s driving license which was in her purse in my living room. While she was upstairs fucking my soon to be ex husband.” He was still smiling brightly as he relayed it to Luke, not at all sounding like a man who just caught his husband cheating. 

“I-I’m sorry, what?” Luke frowned. 

“Our spouses are cheating on us. With each other.” 

“And you’re smiling because…?” 

“The same reason you should be smiling?” Spencer’s smile faltered a little. “Neither of us was happy in our marriages. It’s our way out Luke.” 

Luke was still frowning at him like he’d lost his mind. Had Spencer gotten this all wrong? Luke told him he was unhappy with Lisa, didn’t he? 

He supposed it was one thing to be unhappy and another entirely to be pleased your partner was cheating for an excuse to leave. 

“I shouldn’t be smiling, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry, this was stupid. What the hell was I…” he trailed off when Luke’s frown faded and the other man started to laugh. 

It was Spencer’s turn to frown now. 

“I…I don’t understand what’s happening.” Spencer scratched the back of his head. 

“I knew Lisa was cheating on me, I’ve known for a while. I didn’t know it was with Ethan, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Spencer shook his head. “You knew?” 

“Yeah.” Luke smiled and held his left hand up and that’s when Spencer finally noticed he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. “I kicked her out about a month ago. Told her I didn’t want anything more to do with her.” 

Spencer glanced down at his own ring free hand before looking back up at Luke. 

“So…both of our marriages are over.” Spencer chewed on his lip. 

“So it would seem.” Luke’s eyes sparkled. 

“Interesting.” Spencer smiled. 

“Would you like to come inside, Spencer?” 

“I would love to come inside.” Spencer nodded and Luke held open the door for him to step inside. 

As Spencer fell into Luke’s arms, he knew this was the happiness he’d spent his whole life searching for. 

What had once felt just out of reach was here right in front of him waiting for him to take. 

Happiness came into his life in the form of Luke Alvez, Spencer’s very own ray of sunshine. And he knew he was never going to let him go. 

#ralvez #spencer reid #luke alvez #ralvez fanfiction #spencer reid x luke alvez #build a blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[seijorhi]

Patience of a Saint

An Ushijima x virgin reader commission for the wonderful @hearteyes-candyskies, I hope you enjoy it, bby! 💕

Ushijima Wakatoshi x female reader

TW non-con, nsfw, smut, virgin reader

“Wait, you’re kidding me, right?”

Ushijima simply shrugs, “Why would I joke about something like that?”

Semi and Tendou share a glance, the former hiding a smirk behind the glass rim of his beer bottle. Tendou had been the one to drag them both downtown for ramen in the middle of the night, an impromptu reunion of sorts, now that the volleyball season had wrapped up and Tendou was back in Sendai.

Perhaps his first mistake had been to allow his friend the option to stay with him instead of booking a hotel. Though, truth be told, Tendou would have undoubtedly monopolised his time regardless of where he was staying, and Ushijima would have allowed him to.

They were friends, after all, and that was what friends did. He was just glad that Semi had been roped in alongside him. 

When and how the conversation had steered towards his relationship with you, more specifically the details regarding your bedroom exploits together, Ushijima isn’t entirely sure, but he has no reason to lie to his friends.

The disbelieving look on Tendou’s face, however, makes him wonder if he’s said something wrong. “You mean to tell me that you’ve been dating this girl for how many months now, and you haven’t actually slept together yet?”

At that, Ushijima shakes his head. “We’ve slept together,” he corrects, taking a sip of his own beer. He likes sleeping with you, finds an odd sense of comfort he’s never felt before, waking up to find you curled against his side. 

Most mornings Ushijima has no trouble getting out of bed for an early start. He’s found that lately, at least on the nights you stay over, that’s no longer the case. 

The snort from his right is abruptly cut off into a choking cough as Semi tries and fails to mask his amusement. “He means sex, dude. You haven’t fucked her yet, have you?”

“No.”

The loud cackles from the ex-middle blocker are enough to draw the attention of several other patrons, but Tendou pays them no mind. “Why the hell not? Is she hideously ugly or something?”

“Nope,” Semi answers in his stead, a little too quickly for Ushijima’s liking. But he supposes he cannot blame his friend for noticing your attractiveness. You are, of course, beautiful - he’s told you many times.

A lone, red eyebrow quirks, glittering amusement dancing across Tendou’s face, “Are you… are you having trouble performing, big guy?”

Semi almost chokes on his mouthful, and even Ushijima feels the tips of his ears flush red. “No,” he asserts with a frown. “She…” he pauses, unsure for the first time whether this might be a line that he’s crossing to reveal something so personal between the two of you.

It’s not like he hasn’t discussed sex with them before. He has an almost uncomfortable amount of knowledge regarding the girls the redhead has been with, and Semi is no better.

(Semi was actually far, far worse.)

And truth be told he’s never been shy to share his own exploits with his friends, either. You might be the first girl that Ushijima’s ever loved, but love is not a necessary requirement for sex. He ensured that his partners left satisfied and so did he, there wasn’t anything more to it than that.

But you mean something to him. You mean everything. 

“She… wants to wait,” he says quietly. “She’s-”

Tendou’s red eyes widen, his face transforming into an expression of delighted surprise as he puts it all together. “She’s a virgin?!”

“Hey, dumbass,” Semi grunts, smacking his old friend over the back of his head, “you wanna say that a little louder? I don’t think the entire restaurant heard you.”

Tendou waves off his admonishment with a flick of his wrist, his attention firmly fixed on the ace. “So I was right then? You found yourself a cute, innocent little virgin for a girlfriend?”

Ushijima doesn’t reply, he doesn’t need to. 

He can still remember the scared look on your face the first time you stopped him, the way your hands shook and your pretty eyes filled with tears as you explained. Did you truly believe he would leave you over something as simple as that? 

While he might have been… somewhat disappointed, he understood. He loves you, he’s known that for a while. He could be patient, wait for you to become accustomed to him, wait for you to get over your fears and apprehension.

Not that you make it easy for him. He knows you aren’t teasing him on purpose with low cut dresses and too short skirts, cuddling close in bed at night just so you can grind your ass against the swell of his cock, you’re too innocent for such things.

But that doesn’t make it any easier to ignore the heat that pools in his gut, the stirrings of desire and twitch of his cock every time you bend over in front of him and he’s rewarded with a perfect view. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s had to excuse himself to the bathroom, bracing himself against the wall, bent over and fisting his cock to the mental image of you spread out naked, desperate and begging before him. 

“Wait, wait, hold up. I’m still a bit ticked off that you’ve been dating this girl for months and managed to hide her from me, your very best friend. I wanna see pics!”

Ushijima exhales, “You will meet her tomorrow-”

But it’s a fruitless endeavour, as Semi’s already scrolling through his phone to pull up your social media. Dutifully he passes it across the table, and Ushijima can only watch as Tendou’s eyes widen and a wicked grin creeps across his face. 

“You, my big, beautiful, brawny friend, have the patience of a saint. My condolences.”

—

He meets you the very next day, and there’s a strange feeling in Ushijima’s chest as he watches you collapse into a fit of giggles at Tendou’s joke, the redhead’s arm slung casually over your shoulders.

He’s pleased that you get along with his old friends, it’s not something he’s ever had to concern himself with with his previous partners. They were nothing more than blips on a radar - not necessarily one night stands, but hardly worth introducing to the people who matter most to Ushijima.

Yet he can’t help but linger on Tendou’s comment from the night before.

You hadn’t told him that you were waiting for marriage. It wasn’t a religious vow you’d taken. It was just that you weren’t ready for sex yet. You asked for time.

And he’d understood. Your relationship was new, and he supposed that for your first time he was perhaps intimidating. You were shy. Nervous.

It was to be expected.

But hasn’t he proven by now that he can be gentle? That he loves you, and he has absolutely no intention of leaving you? You’re the only one he wants to be with - the only one he’ll ever want to be with. If you’re waiting for the right ‘one’ to lose your virginity to, what more does he have to do to convince you that he’s it?

Which makes him consider, watching you smile at him as you duck into his kitchen to grab some more snacks, whether you might not be as invested in this relationship as he is.

He doesn’t doubt that you love him, but even as you sidle up beside him, letting him tuck you to his side where you belong, he can’t help but question whether the true reason you haven’t allowed him to take you as he wants is because you’re still under the assumption that your relationship has an expiration date.

The thought doesn’t sit well with him.

Sex is separate from love, Ushijima knows that, but he’s also firmly of the belief that it can be an act of intimacy, an expression of love deeper than words or other actions can convey. He wants to feel that with you. 

He wants to watch you writhing beneath him, your pussy squeezing around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth, lost in the ecstasy that only he can bring you. 

He wants to know what sounds you’ll make, what pretty moans and gasps he can draw out from you as he fucks you within an inch of your sanity. 

He wants to look in your eyes the first time he makes you cum, wants to take his time, to kiss you slowly, baptise you in pleasure and watch as you surrender yourself completely to the love he has for you. 

Ushijima doesn’t have time to waste on romantic flings and relationships that will go nowhere. You are his future, so it does not make sense for you to keep holding yourself back where sex is concerned. 

The sound of your laugh breaks through Ushijima’s musing and he’s pulled back to the present as you recount the story of how the two of you met to the redhead. He’s told Tendou before, but somehow the way you tell it made it sound better. You paint him in a better light, make yourself out to be the awkward one, stumbling over your apologies when it was his fault that you’d tripped in the first place. 

You don’t have a clue about the weeks leading up to that moment, but it hardly matters. He’s content merely just to listen as you speak, your cheeks warming, long lashes fluttering as you glance up at him with that gentle smile of yours.

He loves you. 

Across from the both of you, he catches the pointed look in Tendou’s eye- 

It will be good for the both of you.

-and comes to a decision.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead just grins brightly when Ushijima corners him shortly afterwards, telling him that he will have to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

“No worries, I can crash at Semisemi’s,” he sings, rocking up onto the balls of his feet. “You two need your space, I get that.”

Ushijima nods, turning to leave, only for Tendou to reach out and stop him. “Yes?”

“You know, I kinda like her, Ushiwaka. Think she’ll be good for you, so try not to break her in two tonight, yeah?”

He frowns at the comment, causing Tendou to break into a fit of laughter. 

By now, he should be used to his friend’s ribbing, but the thought of hurting you even as a joke doesn’t sit well with the ace. 

To his credit, Tendou plays his role well. You all but beg him to stay for dinner, but he just mournfully shakes his head, sighing about Eita twisting his arm and forcing him to go watch him and his band play at some local bar.

And then, it’s just the two of you.

In hindsight, perhaps he should have put more effort into making this romantic for you. He’s never had to try with things like that before. He should have cooked dinner, and maybe considered candles and roses, or even music.

Instead, you order takeout and eat it sprawled across Ushijima’s lap, and he cannot find it within himself to mind. The most mundane activities are made better simply for you being by his side, he’s found.

He waits, fingers casually stroking along your arm as you curl up to his side to watch something on TV. You seem to be enjoying it, if the giggles that spill from your lips are anything to go by, but Ushijima finds himself distracted by the gnawing feeling deep in the pit of his stomach, an eagerness that has him twitching to act.

It doesn’t help that he’s all too aware of the softness of your body pressing against his. 

But he won’t have your first time together be on his living room couch, of all places. He has enough patience to wait for weariness to set in, and when you yawn trying to muffle it against his shoulder, Ushijima almost smiles. “Why don’t we go to bed?”

You nod, and he presses a gentle kiss to your hair before helping you up. 

He knows that you like to shower before sleeping, and while there’s a voice in his head that whispers for him to go and join you, Ushijima simply strips out of his clothes, sits on the edge of his bed and waits.

When you emerge from the steam, smelling faintly of the vanilla and citrus body wash he’d bought after the first night you’d stayed over, he stiffens. Instead of your usual sleeping attire (an old tee-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts) you’re clad solely in one of his fluffy towels, hair still damp, skin glistening with stray droplets of water.

“Hey, sorry I forgot my-” you pause, words trailing off as you take in the sight of your boyfriend, utterly naked. For a split second, you freeze in place, eyes wide and lips softly parted, like a deer caught in headlights.

And then, just as Ushijima moves to stand, you snap out of it.

“Oh my god!” you cry, whirling around and clutching the knot of your towel, hiding yourself from his view and burying your face in your hands. “I-I’m sorry!” 

It’s rather adorable how flustered you get by something as natural as nakedness.

“Why wou- you know what, nevermind. I…uh, I forgot my clothes, they’re just on my bag I think, could you, um- could you please pass them to me?”

He spies them, folded neatly on the top of the overnight bag you’d packed. Instead, he reaches out to take your hand and gently tug you back towards him.

“Wakatoshi, what are you-” but your surprised protests are swallowed up as he leans down to kiss you. Yet instead of softening to his touch, allowing him to take the lead as he usually does, you stiffen in his arms, your hands finding their way to his bare chest, trying to push him away.

“Toshi, just- just stop for a second, please?” you gasp, managing to extricate yourself from the kiss.

That won’t do.

He has to be gentle with you, but with anticipation coiling in his gut, his cock stirring at the thought of your almost naked body pressed against his, it’s easy for him to forget his strength as he rids you of the offending material, bends down and hefts you up into his arms. 

“Shh, little one,” he says, ignoring your shouts as he takes the three steps over to his bed so he can lay you down. “I know you’re scared, but you have no need to be. I won’t hurt you. I’m going to make us both feel good, I promise.”

He bestows another kiss against your forehead as he climbs over your trembling frame. 

“Babe… Toshi, please- I-I’m not, I don’t-” your eyes are wide and filling with tears and you’re shaking your head - it fills him with a flicker of unease, but he knows deep down that this is just temporary.

You need this as much as he does, and once he shows you how wonderful he can make you feel, you’ll thank him. 

Cradling your cheek with one large hand, he tries to tell you as much.

But your breath is coming in quick pants, your terrified eyes darting past his broad frame as if you’re trying to look for an escape route while pleas and whimpers spill almost incoherently from your lips, and he realises that words won’t be enough.

He’ll just have to show you. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing you once more before turning his attention to the rest of your body. It’s not the first time he’s seen you bared, of course, but it is the first time he’s been allowed the luxury of taking his time to enjoy it.

Your whimpers are soft and distressed as his lips trail down the column of your throat, resisting the urge to nip and suck at the tender skin, and you squirm under him when his mouth finds your breasts. The sounds you make for him, your choked little gasps only feed the pit of hunger deep inside of him. You must be able to feel his cock, big and thick, rutting up against your stomach, leaving a shining trail of oozing pre-cum across your skin as he busies himself playing with your tits.

They’re soft and pillowy, just the perfect size for his hands to grasp and knead, and the way that you keen for him, jerking a little when he sucks a nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the pebbling bud is utterly captivating. You’re so caught up in the attention he’s paying to your chest that you miss the hand that trails down your side, snaking between your trembling thighs.

At least until long, thick digits swipe along your folds. 

Like a frightened little rabbit, your eyes widen and you jolt into action. “Wakatoshi, stop!” you cry, hands finding his chest once more to try and push him off of you, your legs kicking out uselessly beneath him. 

His expression softens, his thumb sweeping against your thigh in what he hopes is a reassuring manner. “Shh, it’s okay. I need to prepare you to take me, otherwise it will hurt.”

If anything, your expression only becomes more panicked. “No, no, no, no-”

“Let me take care of my girl. You’ll feel good,” he murmurs, and already his fingers are sliding back to your pussy. You’re not as wet as he’d like, but it’s no matter, as his thumb finds your clit, his other fingers returning to tease at your entrance.

The soft little moan you try and fail to bite back as one finger slides inside of you sends a rush of blood straight to his cock. It twitches and throbs, aching for relief and perhaps if you were anybody else, he might throw caution to the wind and fuck you right then and there, regardless of whether you were ready or not.

But as you shiver, gasping as he curls the thick digit inside of you, he’s reminded that he needs to have patience. You are not worth rushing, and despite the feral beast inside of him that’s snapping and snarling to sink into your heat, he wants to savour this.

You only get one first time, and he’s determined to make yours unforgettable. 

“That’s just one finger,” he tells you, his thumb circling your clit in slow, steady movements. “You’re going to take three before I can fuck you properly, understand?”

He doesn’t want to break you in half, after all.

You still writhe beneath him, shaking and jolting as he teases your shining pearl and coaxes your pussy into accepting another finger, and when he lowers his mouth back to your tits to add to the pleasure building inside of you, a sob bursts free.

“Please- please, Toshi!”

A third finger prods at your entrance-

“Please don’t!”

He almost winces at the sharp hiss of pain that escapes you, but he reassures himself that it will only be for a moment. The stretch and burn will give way to pleasure as he fucks them into you slowly. Your pussy is so warm, so tight, sucking the digits in deeper and when rough fingertips brush against a particular spot on your walls and you cry out, Ushijima allows a small, adoring smile to cross his face.

“Good girl,” he purrs, quickening his pace. 

You’ve always been so beautiful to him, but when you cum for him that first time, face flushed and dewy, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try not to scream in pleasure, he doesn’t think there’s anything on earth that could possibly compare.

The same could be said about the way you taste, he thinks, greedily sucking your juices off of his fingers. 

“Wakatoshi,” you beg, lying spent across his bed still reeling from the afterglow of your orgasm as he slides your thighs further apart so he can settle between them. He grunts a little as he wraps his hand around his flushed cock and guides it to your sopping entrance, marvelling at the way you shiver and mewl when he nudges it against your oversensitive clit.

Olive eyes find yours, and he cannot resist leaning down to claim your lips once more as he sinks slowly inside of you.

The sound that escapes him is deep and guttural, but the feel of your warm pussy clenching around his throbbing cock is simply heaven, and he almost - almost - loses control.

Forcing his eyes open, he watches your face as you take his cock, feeling every vein and ridge stretch you out, the pained whimpers that slip from behind clenched teeth. He knows that he’s bigger than average, that his girth is impressive and that even with his foreplay you’re still squeezing around him like a vice, but he forces himself to take it slow, to allow you the time to adjust. 

He almost starts when you reach out to grab him, fingers painfully sinking into the muscles of his forearm as you fight off another wave of tears, so he pauses for a beat, peppering your face with more kisses. “You’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

When your grip eases, he resumes moving, drawing his hips back and trying not to curse at the friction your slick walls are creating. 

“I love you,” he grunts, “so much.”

And then he rocks his hips forward - steadily, filling you up again, allowing you to get used to his girth. He kisses you, trails rough fingertips gently along your skin, teases you finding all the sensitive spots that make you moan for him.

Gradually, he feels you relax around him.

The obscene sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you, the rhythmic slap of skin against skin is drowned out by your soft whines and pants as Ushijima slowly picks up the pace. He fucks you deeply, but not roughly, taking care not to hurt you anymore than necessary.

It’s slow and sensual - your body can’t help but respond to his ministrations, and when you clench around him, sucking him deeper Ushijima can’t help but groan, feeling the tight coil of heat in his core burn as pleasure ripples through him.

He wants more. Needs it.

Ushijima’s hands wrap around your thighs, easing them back towards your chest so that your ankles fall over his broad shoulders. He kisses at your calf when confusion flickers across your face, but doesn’t offer any explanation as he snaps his hips forward once more. The choked scream that leaves your lips is beautiful, but he can barely focus on that when he finally bottoms out, his balls slapping against your ass as another hoarse groan leaves him. 

He promised himself that he would be gentle with you, but as your velvety walls quiver and convulse around him and your lips fall open in another soundless scream as your second orgasm hits, he’s not entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

There’s a tightening in his balls and he can feel the tether he has on his control fraying little by little as you moan for him, your hips rocking up to meet his fervent thrusts. You’re beautiful, perfect, and he’s losing himself to the feeling of being buried inside of you. It’s indescribable, the way your pussy’s fluttering around him, clenching and pulsing, kissing his cock with sweltering heat - it feels like the very edges of his sanity are blurring as he fucks himself deeper inside of you, his cockhead hitting your cervix with every thrust. He wants to cum, wants to fill you up with his thick load again and again and again, wants you so full it’s leaking out of you-

It won’t be enough, it’ll never be enough.

He loves you, and Ushijima won’t ever be satisfied again without the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, milking him for every drop that he’s worth.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere ushijima #yandere ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tw non con #virgin reader

[alygatorwrites]

can I request a lil something? during the end of the manga or after the timeskip if you haven't read it yet, reiner still has feelings for historia and reader has one-sided feelings for him.

pieck gives reiner a small hint, saying he's wasting time while there's someone close to him that cares for him and points to you. he doesn't understand at first and maybe is conflicted about his feelings for you because of historia. reader is cool about it as she doesn't expect him to reciprocate her feelings.

a rollercoaster of emotions later, maybe there is a happy ending tho? i am curious to see what you can come up with 😭😭 i have dreaming of this scenario before bed and i can't help but get jealous of his crush on historia abjdsndks maybe you can help reiner reciprocate reader-chan's feelings or not

thank u so much aly 💖🥺

reciprocation

pairing: reiner braun x reader

a/n: OMG yesss! honestly, i was kinda annoyed at how reiner still had a crush on historia. i know that isayama wanted to show how everything went back to normal, but i was hoping that reiner would have a bigger role in the allied nations instead of being "dumbed down" to having an obsession with her. MAYBE THATS JUST THE JEALOUSY SPEAKING LMAO 😭 i was hoping this would be longer, although school has been killing me so im really sorry!! i hope its okay 💗💕 thank you honey!

↳ to be added to my taglist, please fill out this ♡form♡

as reiner is handed historia’s letter, you fold your hands on the table and watch him without a word. when he reads the lines and smells the parchment - jean saying something snarky afterward - you say nothing.

you want reiner to be happy: you want to see him at ease like this more, face soft as the leaf of the page flits from his pinched fingers.

and so you let the man speak about historia like she’s a damn goddess, gushing over her handwriting, and keep your goddamn mouth shut. ignore your jealousy. your feelings.

the truth is, you’re in love with reiner.

you can’t even remember how it happened, but you can remember the first time you looked into those hazel eyes, and how you knew that they were going to stick with you for eternity.

you’ve come to accept his crush on the queen, though. reciprocation was never an option in your mind.

when jean begins to chew reiner out for lusting after a married woman, and reiner says something about jean being a horse, pieck’s gaze lands on you. “you’re rather quiet,” she says softly, resting her head on her palm.

you shrug, turning away from her. “i’m just tired.”

pieck catches your chin between her lithe fingers, and turns you to face her with a tiny smile. the young woman is very perceptive, and you’ve known her long enough. 

that’s when you notice the twinkle in her eye. she’s planning something.

pieck releases your jaw then, sitting up in her chair. “you’re wasting your time, reiner,” she says suddenly. “there’s already someone you know who cares for you.”

you pretend to not hear pieck - and definitely pretend you don’t see her faintly point at you through your peripheral. the movement of her fingers is barely there, but you catch it.

damn you, pieck.

the way you’re now pinned underneath armin, jean, connie, and reiner’s stares makes your stomach tie itself into knots with bubbling reluctance. shit, this is awkward. you want to run away.

still, you peer over to study reiner’s reaction. he looks confused at first, the contours of his face unreadable. you swear you see connie facepalm at the man’s cluelessness.

then reiner’s expression slowly changes: his eyes widen in awe, lips parting slightly, and brows knitting together. he seems genuinely surprised - and conflicted.

conflicted? why?

there’s no time to explain yourself though, because the door creaks open and annie steps in. her words fall on your deaf ears, and when everyone stands up to leave, you’re the first one out of the room. work beckons you as always.

two days pass.

you’ve been busy filling out tons of paperwork pertaining to the allied nations, so when you’re finally given a day off, you take it with open arms. 

freedom at last.

you lean against a bench outside of headquarters, enjoying the salty breeze that flutters along your skin. it’s dusk, the sky covered in a gradient of neon colors as the sun dips below the horizon.

you haven’t seen reiner since that day in the conference room. you wonder how he’s doing, what he’s thinking, how he’s holding up -

“hey.”

speak of the devil. you glance over your shoulder toward the voice, low and familiar.

reiner approaches you, clad in his uniform: the suit hugs his large frame perfectly, showing every flex of his muscles, and his blonde hair is neatly parted. the black tie looped around his neck just pulls it all together. it has you weak at the knees every. single. time.

“hey,” you answer, giving reiner a smile as he stops beside you.

and that’s when your heart lurches at the sight of him.

the sunset highlights reiner’s profile in gold, a heavenly shine that settles upon his blonde lashes and the flawless slope of his nose. the flecks in his irises sparkle – a beautiful mixture of soft browns and muted greens. the only thing you can do right now is admire the man. 

his words are what breaks you out of your daydream.

“work has been crazy lately, huh?” reiner says, focused on the candy-floss clouds and their fluffy shapes.

“well - yeah, pretty much. i don’t want to look at a pen or a piece of paper ever again.”

“that bad?”

“you have no idea. i almost regret marley and paradis reconciling.”

reiner chuckles gently at the joke, but it’s strained. his forehead remains creased, and he’s not really smiling. the emotion there is more … doubtful. it’s like he’s having some sort of inner conflict.

hopefully reiner’s not acting cautious because of the other day. you know he doesn’t return your feelings, and that’s totally okay. you’re happy enough being with him like this. “i’m not mad or anything, y’know.”

reiner stiffens at that. there’s a white flash of teeth when he chews on his lower lip. “i know.”

“good,” you hum, breathing out a sigh of relief. your core twists with envy when you force a grin. bite it back. tease him like always. “so about historia … ”

reiner’s eyes go wide almost comically, and you hear the breath in his lungs leave his firm chest in one exhale. there’s a light blush staining his cheeks now. it’s funny; he’s so goddamn big, yet he’s such a teddy bear.

“y-yeah,” reiner mutters. you observe the way his brows pinch together as he awkwardly shifts in place. it takes a while before the man composes himself again, which is strange.

is he scared or something? what the hell?

“pieck,” reiner hesitates for a moment. the golden strands of his hair ruffle in the wind and he appears ... well, lost. “was she being serious?”

the question is a shocker - jeez, he could have at least let you prepare yourself. a firm ‘no’ almost slips out, but you’ve never been much of a liar. not to reiner, anyway. crossing your arms against your chest, you inhale sharply and nod. avoid staring at him face-to-face. “yep.”

“ … why me?”

reiner says the words with a mixture of spite and anguish, a casual and rumbling voice. you immediately turn your head, frowning. “what?”

“i’ve done so many horrible things.” reiner exhales heavily and stares down at his hands; perhaps he’s imagining all the blood they’ve been stained with. “i betrayed everyone. i killed innocent people - all because i was selfish.”

it’s no surprise that reiner is broken after everything he’s been through, but it pains you to know that he continues to suffer in silence. whatever war is raging inside his ribcage tears him apart piece by piece, and you wish you could carry the burden. 

there’s probably nothing you can say to convince reiner that he was just a kid, a victim of circumstance. there’s nothing that can persuade him to see himself the way you do.

so you decide to tell reiner why you love him. 

you explain the amount of admiration you hold for him. tell him that you love the way he just wants to be someone his comrades can lean on, like a big brother. tell him that you think he’s the most gorgeous person you’ve ever seen and how you think he deserves the world.

the way you spill your guts out snaps every nerve in your body. you don’t say everything you want to – but you tell him enough. a dark flush spreading across your face, you find the courage to look at him.

the world seems to stop on its axis when you find reiner staring right on back. the intensity of his eyes is stunning; they’re lit up with astonishment and affection.

god, the affection. you see it clear as day. maybe one of the greatest regrets in his life is how he forced himself to see you only as a friend.

that’s when he reaches out to you.

reiner retracts his hand twice, unsure, before slowly brushing his fingertips against yours. the touch is so feather-light that you almost can’t feel it. it’s a test - he’s waiting to see if you pull away. you can’t even move if you wanted to, because his fond gaze keeps you rooted to the spot before him. 

when you don’t recoil, reiner finally moves to gently hold your hand; his palm is so much bigger than yours, and your fingers slot together perfectly, like a jigsaw puzzle’s final piece. 

heart thrumming like a hummingbird has been stuffed into your chest, you’re almost at a loss for words and come to a realization.

this utterly amazing man likes you. always has. 

but reiner shoved away the feelings for one simple reason; you deserved ‘better.’ focusing on the old crush he had on historia was a distraction - an attempt to convince himself to stop thinking about you.

because looking at you everyday and not being able to act upon his feelings was too painful.

“is this okay?” reiner asks lowly. there’s a slight pinkness to his cheeks, the color of a selfless love.

by some miracle, you manage to nod dumbly. “yeah, of course. it’s fine.” it’s amazing is what you actually want to say.  

reiner squeezes your hand at the reassurance, a sigh escaping from his throat. “i really—”

you wait for him to finish, but he doesn’t. reiner just searches your profile for signs of discomfort, and then untwines your hands to bravely swipe a thumb along the length of your cheekbone. 

there’s no time to speak because he’s already leaning down.  

the sensation of reiner’s lips pressing against yours lights your skin ablaze; you can feel the curling flames of passion sear your soul, made even more intense by the warmth of the sunlight on your back.

it’s natural, it’s tender, it’s warm.

reiner’s breath rattles into your mouth when you rest both palms against his solid chest and deepen the kiss. the musky smell of his aftershave and cologne envelops you completely, and fuck, it’s so good. your arms wrap around him, fingers passing over the sharp slopes of his shoulder blades.

as much as you wish the kiss could go on endlessly, there are people gathering outside. avoiding any unwanted attention from nosy strangers is very much appreciated.

you pull away to nuzzle your nose into reiner, and he rests his chin on your shoulder, protective arms moving to loop around your waist. it’s such an intimate caress that it sparks your brain into overdrive.

as the rushing sound of the breeze comes back to your ears through the quiet, you tuck the kiss away to be remembered forever. that’s all there is to it. being close to reiner like this - swaying together like wildflowers in the wind - is more important than anything else.

“i like you,” reiner murmurs.

the suddenness of it makes you laugh, and you can feel the upward quirk of reiner’s lips - a whisper of a peaceful smile and a sweet, sweet promise.

#timeskip reiner still sexy asf #I just wanna hug and kiss him ugh #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk x reader #reiner braun #reiner x you #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

[brattyfics]

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat. 

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?��� He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx​

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio x black!reader

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

#the darklling x reader #the darkling #the darkling smut #the darkling imagine #the darkling x reader msut #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader smut #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse x you #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse imagines #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone show #shaodow and bone netflix

[corrupt-fvcker]

Dating Loki Headcanons…

Dating HCs ( Loki Laufeyson x GN!reader )

Warnings: SFW, gender neutral reader, mentions of loki being gender fluid, fluff, kissing, drinking, marijuana, domesticity, unedited, me lowkey roasting Loki

Word Count: 2.1K

Author’s Note: NO LOKI SPOILERS!! so i just finished the finale and… wow. feel free to send me a message about what you thought about it and/or some requests for loki :) i can also do requests for elaborating on these bullet points. also please correct me if i used improper terminology while writing about loki exploring himself as being gender fluid, i wrote it with my experience in mind though i understand that everyone is different.

Being Loki’s partner is not always easy.

Now, don’t get me wrong, loving Loki is nothing short of a magical experience. When you’re together is when you’re both happiest, it feels as if the stars align and a pleasant sense of peace settles over your conscious like morning fog.

Though, admittedly, loving him can be a bit dangerous. It’s electric. He fills you with energy and passion and power, yet if you’re not careful, you’ll get shocked.

Luckily, Loki is well-aware that he has some work to do when it comes to navigating his thoughts and feelings. While he may be proud and reluctant to admit his issues, he does force himself to do some inner-work for your sake.

He’s incredibly thoughtful when he wants to be. In the beginning of your relationship, it was easy for him to focus on himself. He’s a survivor and a schemer, he weighs his options and picks whichever benefits him the most.

However, as your relationship progresses, he learns to be more selfless. He eventually realizes that he’s happiest when you’re happiest. And over time, he switches his mentality from “how can I benefit from this?” to “how can we benefit from this?” You’re a team, in his mind. One cannot fail without everyone failing, and one cannot succeed without everyone succeeding.

He found that caring for others, specifically you, gets easier the more he does it. The more natural it becomes. He observes. He learns. And he forms habits.

After a particularly cold date involving an unanticipated rainstorm and only one available jacket, he always carries a spare sweater or coat with him, whether it be his or one of yours that he stole borrowed from your closet. And yes, he was a little too proud of himself the first time you needed the emergency sweater (definitely referred to himself as “insightful” and “genius” the rest of the day).

The ocean will dry up before there is a shortage of blankets at your house. He knows that he runs more than slightly cold, and he will not have you suffer from the fact. Heavy blankets for winter, fluffy blankets for autumn, light blankets for summer, knitted blankets for spring— this man could probably open up a blanket shop if he wanted to (he doesn’t, you made that joke already).

He has the smallest tendency to doubt himself. And by that I mean he is filled with self-doubt and insecurity about half the time. Not necessarily with day-to-day things. He knows that he can do chores, drive a car (barely but you’d never tell him that, you’d rather just insist on driving), charm just about anything that breathes, and summon anything he desires in a blink of an eye. But the small yet important things are what get the best of him. He worries you’ll find him to be too much work for what he’s worth. He stays up late at night, sure that one day he’ll step too far over the line. He’s nearly certain that you’ll eventually see through all his bells and whistles, and realize that he’s really not as magnificent as you had originally thought him to be.

Though, much to his fortune, you see through his bullshit. You know that he’s secretly insecure about your relationship and a lot of his qualities. And he’s forever grateful that you’re willing to look past his flaws and still love him. Or, in the very least, tolerate him.

Adjusting to life on Earth does spark a bit of an identity crisis within him. His life of luxury and royal privilege is gone. Though on the bright side, so is his life of torture and misery.

But nevertheless, he does find himself struggling to identify with the parts of himself that he was once so sure of.

He cuts his hair short and then grows it out. Changes his fashion tastes, changes the way he parts his hair, changes the literature he reads.

The changes don’t bother you, in fact you’re glad he’s finding healthy ways to adjust to this major lifestyle change.

At one point, Loki even changed his physical form. For a few weeks, he allowed himself to grow comfortable in his skin as a frost giant. While he didn’t feel entirely himself in this form, he was glad that after a few weeks the anxiety around it faded.

After trying out his form as a frost giant, Loki morphed into female form. While Loki was initially worried to see how you’d react to this change, she was pleased to find that you were happy as long as she was happy. For a few months, Loki remained in female form but ultimately reverted back to male form. Though on occasion he finds himself switching between the two.

He tends to be clingy. He likes to be touching you or have you touching him, though he enjoys when you’re both touching each other at the same time best. He likes it when you lay on top of him with your head on his chest, he likes to feel your heart beating against him. If you play with his hair, he’ll melt. He prefers keeping it long so you’ll braid it— he acts like he doesn’t enjoy you braiding his hair, but you know he does.

Kiss him on the tip of his nose. I dare you. He will turn dark pink before you even pull away.

He will never turn down the opportunity to hold you in his arms. He will kiss the top of your head if he can reach, and if he can’t, he’ll grow a few inches so that he can.

He enjoys cooking for you. There’s just something so simple yet domestic about cooking you something yummy. He’ll attempt to make all your favorite dishes and follow all of your dietary needs. No meat? No problem. No gluten? He’s got you covered. No dairy? He wouldn’t even think about adding some milk or throwing in some cheese as a harmless prank.

Which brings me to an important note: do not prank this man. He will take it personally. And he will not stop until he gets even with you and then some. Petty pranks don’t work on him either. Baby powder in the hair dryer is obvious and he’ll just point the dryer in your direction.

If he’s sick, good luck. You thought a god like him would be above a common cold. You were wrong. He gets super clingy, super whiny, super needy, and kinda turns into a dick. He needs to be spoiled. You need to treat him like he’s dying and these are his last days. If you try to pull “I can’t kiss you, I’ll get sick”— good luck with trying to get him to stop pouting. Don’t say I didn’t warn you (definitely push multivitamins on him for your sake).

He takes the longest in the bathroom when he’s getting ready. Which is ridiculous because he can simply poof! himself into an image of perfection. You’re starting to think he enjoys how irritated you get when he makes you late.

Also, warning! He’s an attention whore, to simply put it. He likes the spotlight, especially when it’s your spotlight. Shower him with affection please, it’s the only way he’ll ever shut his mouth. He’s not scared of causing a scene if it means he gets to spend some more quality time with you. It’s cute but you hate it.

I don’t make the rules, but Loki definitely shaves his legs in the shower because he likes how smooth they are. If you don’t like it, stay mad about it.

While Loki is fancy as fuck, he does love the outdoors. Earth is a beautiful planet, even if he is reluctant to admit it. He loves nature, specifically green forests, sandy beaches, and wild animals.

Side note: never take this man to the zoo. You thought he’d enjoy it because of his love of animals. He ended up freeing about half the animals in the zoo and breaking into about a dozen of the enclosures.

He does not understand the internet at all. Memes? Yeah, not his cup of tea. Though there has been a handful of times you’ve found him smirking over some internet articles, only to find that he enjoys reading insane “Florida man” stories. And he’s also not above arguing with people on Facebook and Twitter. Be careful though because he will throw his iPad across the room and throw a temper tantrum over some “abstract imbeciles.”

He loves dancing. He loves dancing with you even more. He’s got some pretty good ballroom dancing moves but he’s a little clueless when it comes to hip-hop.

Very protective over you. Almost to a dangerous extent. Definitely the type that’s ready to throw down with the first person that looks at you funny. If you get catcalled, hold this motherfucker back because he’s already got a knife in his hand.

Surprisingly, he likes kids. He’s not particularly sure if he wants to have children himself, but it’s definitely a conversation he’s interested in having with you in the future. If you’re against having children, he’s unbothered. If you’re interested in adding members to your family of two in the future, he’s ready whenever you are.

He’s not a huge fan of pets. Though if you already have a pet when you meet or get a pet as a surprise while you’re together, he’s not too bothered by their existence. Definitely gets jealous of the attention your pet receives though. He fits the role of “I did not want this animal but, for some reason, it loves me the most which means I will kill anyone that dares to hurt it.” You tease him when you catch him playing with the pet he didn’t want.

Also, Loki’s a lightweight. Which you find hilarious, because it is funny even if he pouts every time you tease him. He gets incredibly rowdy when he drinks, expect singing, dancing, and broken glasses. He also gets very touchy so don’t be afraid to bop him on the nose if he’s doing too much.

It takes a few years of Loki exploring Earth’s culture before he grows comfortable with the idea of smoking marijuana. But once you explain to him that it’s perfectly safe and that you’ll be by his side the whole time, he’s open to trying it. When Loki is high, expect lots of flirting, lots of touching, and lots of giggling. Don’t even bother playing a stupid comedy movies because he won’t watch it. He wants to spend this high cuddling you and discussing bizarre subjects. Pray this man doesn’t get the munchies because he’ll clear out your whole kitchen. Keep water on hand because he will definitely complain incessantly if he experiences cotton mouth. But if he’s lucky enough to not have an abnormally dry mouth, he would definitely encourage a lazy make out session.

He will definitely come up with a number of super creative terms of endearment for you, but some of his more generic favorites are sweetheart, darling, dear, and love.

Please please please make fun of his Asgardian accent. Mock him, dress up as him and run around the house pretending to be him. Please!!

He also has a thing for you wearing his clothes. I won’t go in depth (unless you want me to) but it does things to him.

You bought him a multi-color beanie with a pom pom sewn to the top of it. You were able to trick him into wearing it once (you told him it was peak Midgard fashion) but Stark ruined it. If you wear this beanie it will still do things to him.

Please let this man style your hair, or at the very least let him wash it when you shower together. But if you let him style it, he’ll get all giddy. You’ve caught him practicing his braiding technique multiple times.

He will want to spoil you. He doesn’t really understand money, and he definitely doesn’t understand what a budget is. But if he sees something that makes him think of you, he’ll buy it. Maybe even buy several of the same item. Please let him shower you with gifts, it’s one of his love languages.

His other love languages? I’m gonna have to go with all. Definitely a sucker for physical affection, but also won’t turn down a genuine act of service or quality time. Also compliment him. Like, a lot.

( masterlist ) ( reblog to show support 💞 )

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #marvel #my writing #corrupt-fvcker #loki HCs #cw drugs #tw drugs #cw alcohol #tw alcohol

[lordabovehelpme]

Injured- Din Djarin x Reader

Request: Well, everyone sees Din as Grogu's father and they even tell him, but one day Reader tells him that too and Din says "Yes, he has a father but he doesn't have a mother... yet" and looks directly at Reader 👀*heart eyes, motherf* - @along-the-lines-of-space

A/n: Hon! This is such a cute idea!!! I kinda went a different direction with it, but if you want me to do it again, totally tell me! Love ya! 

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

You can hear the hatch open, signifying the mandalorians return. Climbing down the ladder you watch as he drags the quarry to the carbonite freezer. But he moves slower than usual, almost as if he is stuck in his own world.

As soon as the quarry is frozen the mandalorian collapses onto the ground. The harsh clank of metal on unforgiving metal ringing through the hull. He groans and shifts to lay on his side. Gasping you rush to his side. “Mando?”

You pull his head onto your lap and look down into his visor. He grumbles and nuzzles into your thighs.

“Mando, what happened?” You gasp again when you notice a growing pool of blood below his knee. “What happened?” This time you say it louder, needing to hear his answer.

“Quarry… explosive… didn’t notice.” He turns his helmet further into your thighs and his breaths starts to even out.

“No no no, come on. Stay with me.” But, your pleads mean nothing to him. If it weren't for the fact that he is bleeding out, you would laugh at how funny his snores sound in the vocoder. Cursing, your mind starts to work out a plan. You take his head in your hands and wiggle from beneath him. Placing your elbows under his armpits you struggle to pull him over to the bunk.

Rushing to the fresher, you grab a bowl of water and a couple washcloths. You had already gave up on lifting the beast of a man up onto the bunk, so you’ve grabbed blankets and pillows and placed them around him.

Making sure he is still asleep, you start to take his leg armor off. Cringing, you realize that there is no way to treat his wound with his pants on. You sigh, “Forgive me, but you’ll die if I don’t.” Slowly you unbuckle his belt and undo his pants. Heat rises to your cheeks and you bite your lip, giving one last look at the mandalorians visor, you pull his pants down.

You curse at the length of his wound, it travels down from the middle of his thigh to below his knee. “Okay, prepared to be healed.” Dunking the washcloth in the bowl, you start to clean the wound as best as you can. You’re gentle yet firm as you scrub away the already dried blood.

As soon as you’re content with your cleaning job, you grab some bandages and start to wrap his leg. It’s now that you fully realize how exposed your mandalorian is. His pants pulled down to his ankles and his beautiful tan skin exposed for your gaze.

You would think he would be smaller without the bulky armor, but it’s almost as if he has become larger. The air no longer flows in and out of your lungs, it suffocates you with his natural spicy scent.

He groans and you shrink, afraid for when he wakes up. Thankfully, he stays asleep. Sighing, you shake your head and try to run from your improper thoughts. Grabbing a bacta shot, you tap the end, getting rid of air bubbles, and inject the medicine into his meaty thigh.

Taking his pants off all together you fold them and toss them into a corner. You grab another blanket and drape it across his form, giving him some much needed dignity. Trying to make him even more comfortable, you take the rest of his armor off, leaving him in his underclothes and helmet.

You tuck the blanket around him and make sure his head is supported by the pillow. However, when you go to walk away your heart tugs at you. You get a nasty feeling that as soon as you leave, he’ll wake up in a worse state. Weighing your options you eventually lay down next to him.

His soft snores are faint but they soothe your anxiety of him being dead. Slowly, you shimmy towards him. It’s cold in the ship and you can feel the goosebumps forming on your skin. Biting your lip, you lift the blanket and snuggle up against his side, mindful of his leg.

He should be okay for now; or you hope so. The warmth radiating off of his body is starting to make you sleepy. You look up at his chin, admiring the hair that has started to grow underneath his chin, obviously it's been a few days since he’s shaved. Snapping back down to look at his covered chest, you curse at yourself so being so plain with your ogling.

You close your eyes and nuzzle into his chest, succumbing to your slumber.

***

Thrashing limbs and groans wake you up. “Cyare.”

“Hey hey hey.” Your eyes beg to stay closed but you stay awake and sit up. His hands grab at you. “It’s okay, don’t move, you’ll exhaust yourself.”

“Cyare…” His head leans back down on the pillow.

“Hey big boy.” You rub small circles on the back of his hands. “Stay here, I am going to go get some water.” He grumbles something, but you’re already up and walking over to the kitchen area. Filling the bowl back up, you also grab a glass for him.

Sitting back down near him you peel the blanket back. In a panic, the mandalorian reaches down to cover himself.

“Sorry, I had to take your pants off to get to it.” He doesn’t say anything. “Alright… I um got you some water. Let me just rewrap this and then I’ll leave you.” He still stays silent. You frown as you realize that the bandages are already bloody again; must have been from him moving. “Mando, I’m gonna need you to not wake up in tizzy fits anymore, you’re just opening the wound back up.”

You unwrap the bloody bandages and wet a washcloth, then begin to clean it again. He hisses when you press it to his body.

“Sorry… sorry.”

“It’s okay.” One of those warm palms grabs your hip and rubs your skin.

“Okay, this is going to hurt, but you’ll feel much better in about ten minutes.” You grin as you hold up a bacta shot. As you poke it into his thigh, the hand squeezes your hip. “All done, now it’s time to wrap it up, okay?” The hand gives you a couple squeezes.

After you finish wrapping the wound, you pull the blanket back over his form and go to get up. “Cyare, stay.”

You cup his helmet. “I can’t, you need to drink some water.”

“Turn around.”

Giving him an apprehensive look, you follow his command and turn around. One hand stays tracing circles on your hip, while you can hear the other shuffle around. The glass clinks as he sets it back down and the hand on your hip tugs you back towards him.

“You can look now cyare.” You turn back around. “Come here, m’ tired.” He lifts the blanket and his arm, creating a perfect space for your body. Succumbing to his offer, you snuggle up into side. His arm settles down around your shoulders and his fingertips graze across your skin.

***

It’s become routine for the two of you. Every couple hours you’ll unwrap and redress his wound. Then you give him a bacta shot and within ten minutes the stoic mandalorian no longer has a filter. This time being no different. However, he was complaining about the pain so you gave him the shot before dressing the wound again.

“Cyare.”

“Mhm?”

“Am I going to die? I feel like I am going to die.”

Biting back your laughter, you play along. “You can’t die on me, you have a son to take care of. What would he do without his father?”

“Yes, he has a father, but no mother...yet.” His visor tilts to look at you, his voice lower than usual.

Raising your eyebrows, you continue to wrap his wound, “Mm, is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“Well where are you going to find this special lady?”

His hand reaches up and cups your face. “She’s right here. And she’s quite pretty too.”

Your eyes snap to meet his visor. No, that can’t be right, it’s the bacta that's talking. “Alright, hot shot.”

Under his helmet he frowns. “No cyare, I’m serious.” His hand drops from your face to grab at your hand. “Wanna have children with you. Want you to be the mother of my kids. Wanna wake up and be able to kiss you.”

Your mouth is opening and closing, you probably look like a fish out of water, but you don’t care about that right now. You can’t even start to gather your thoughts, they’re moving too fast for you to even process them.

After a few minutes of you just staring you finally start to form words. But his soft snores are the only thing he offers.

***

The spot next to you is cold when you wake up. Panic rips through your body as you shoot up and search for the mandalorian.

A deep chuckle sounds from behind you, “I’m right here cyare.” You turn around and spot him sitting on a chair, thighs spread wide as he keeps his injured leg straight. He has a pair old black shorts on, that are way too short for your mind to comprehend.

“Why… when did you get up?” Your rub at your eyes, trying to shake away your sleep.

“I felt better, and I was hungry. Did you sleep good?”

“Ummm… yeah.” Suddenly all of what he said earlier comes back to you, making heat flow to your cheeks.

Almost as if he understands what you were saying, he leans over and sets his elbows on his knees. “Listen, cyare… I’m sorry for what I said-”

“Did you mean it?” You interpret him before you can stop yourself. Cringing at your abruptness you peer down at the blanket and start to play with the edge.

“What?” He genuinely sounds confused.

“Did, did you mean it? Um, what you said?” The thread that you have been picking at has become even more interesting.

“Cyare, look at me.” He reaches out and his index finger lifts your chin. You let him and finally meet his visor, fighting back the part in you that begs for you to run away. “I am sorry for being so blunt, but I did.”

You nod, not totally processing what he said yet. “Oh.” His hand brushes away the stray hair that fell in your face. Then it finally hits you, “Oh!” Shuffling closer to him, he brushes your hair. “Well you know… I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You grin up at him and he chuckles.

Standing up you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him. He pulls you close, slotting his helmet into the space between your shoulder and neck.

“But let’s take it slow, okay?”

“Of course cyare.”

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

I hope you liked it! As always, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! 

Love, Lordy :) 

Masterlist 

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi @coldlilheart @remmysbounty​ 

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

[marimagines]

Night Care | Levi X Reader

Between - Levi x Reader

Genre - Fluff, modern!au

Words - 3,990 [kinda short but its cute :] 

Summary - You give Levi the care he oh so is desperate for and the sleep that his body and mind demand for. along with that care, you finally get a chance to introduce him to a routine that he promises to follow.

Warnings - none [just a little teasing] and just cute Levi :[

A/n - I came up with this while doing my night time routine and I just had to write. It’s just Levi being a soft baby and I’m here for it :( I hope you all like itttt

It was finally one of those nights when you and Levi would spend time together. His immense amount of work would always keep him occupied even when he’d be home sometimes. It had always distracted him from life or he’d have to ignore many things. Levi was one loyal and devoted person in your eyes. To his work but also his loved ones. No matter how busy he’d be, he had always managed to make time to send you a text or call you and if neither of those seemed like the options, he’d send a voice note of him just talking while his mind and body would be busy with work.

You always appreciated his effort that he put so passionately in everything he did. So whenever you went out or whenever you see him, you made sure that he didn’t have to worry about making you upset with his busy schedule. Thankfully, you always managed to make him smile. Well, you didn’t really have to try, Levi was already so soft and in awe with your entire existence. Everything you did left an impact on him and sometimes he’d just sit back and smile to himself by remembering something about you. Like how you smile when you see him, or how you hug him or how you’d act cute or funny. It was just you. He was soft for you and you could sit silently and he would still feel his heart flutter at that sight.

Tonight, Levi finally checked out of work earlier. He had finished everything that was due today and even managed to finish certain tasks before the future deadlines. You greeted him with a smile and he just went for an embrace. His hands resting in your waist and his face buried in your neck. He groans out when you asked about his day and that was enough to know how exhausted he must’ve been.

“I should have a talk with Erwin to let you off the hook and lessen this mountain of work on you,” you say as you place the food on the table for him, a pout settled on your lips. Levi had only chuckled at your words, clearly knowing the sarcastic tone you speak in. It was cute though. He lowkey would want to see you telling off Erwin.

“That’s just how it is, honey,” he replies softly before picking up his utensils. His eyebrows furrow when you stop him but as soon as he sees that you were going to serve him the food, his expressions soften along with his heart. A smile stretches his lips and he whispers a thank you before you both begin to eat.

Throughout dinner, the two of you share details of your day today or you’d share a comfortable silence. Levi wasn’t one to talk much when he ate so you always made sure to divide the silence and talking to a 60-40 ratio. He probably wouldn’t want to talk so much especially after a long day. But that silence was also filled with sweet eye contact or sweet actions like adding more food to each other’s plates or feeding one another every now and then. Once dinner was done, you sort out the dishes and put away the leftovers along with a mini quarrel of an attempt to stop him from washing the dishes. His defense was that you had a long day yet you still cooked so the least he could do was clean it up for you. You both were neat freaks. Your hearts find peace when things are organized and well put together so whenever one of you offers to do a job of cleaning or organizing, you knew to fully trust each other at that. That’s just how it is and you both were content with it.

Levi was busy drying the plates and utensils while you decided to run a warm bath for the two of you. These nights were the most important nights for you two. The nights you just unwind from all the world and just bask in each other’s existence. Even if you don’t talk or end up napping together, just knowing the other is here and near was more than enough to be grateful for these nights. Some nights you’d end up fucking or making love, some nights you’d take a stroll outside and enjoy the scenery and breeze and some nights... you’d both prefer to spend it in the expanse of your apartment. You anticipated these nights the most. Being able to take care of Levi was something you practically live for.

The sound of the faucet opening pops you back into reality and you smile at Levi who was staring at you with a certain glow in his eyes and his toothbrush in his mouth. As he proceeded to cleanse his face with his face wash, you turned off the faucet of the bathtub and move to take off your clothes. You could just feel Levi’s eyes on you as he was rubbing the product unto his smooth face.

Since you were done with your brushing and cleansing already, you slowly lower yourself into the warm bathtub which was now starting to feel and smell heavenly due to the bath salts and a new product you had purchased a few days back. One of your way of escaping the struggles of life was to go shopping not for clothes or shoes, but for things like candles or mists or body care such as shower gels or bath products. Anything that brought you a sense of tranquility in your soul. And whenever you found something you loved, you’d share it with Levi and sometimes even consider adding it to a treatment or package in your beauty salon. Working in the same place as Levi was always fun but your passion and goal had always been to open up your own makeup studio or a beauty salon and thankfully with Levi’s ultimate support and help, you managed to succeed in that goal of yours. Hence why Levi always trusted you whenever you brought him a product for him to wear though he could never keep a certain routine and only stuck to one moisturizer. Regardless, you were amazing at it. You excelled at it and that’s why you are where you are right now. He was proud of you.

Once Levi was done with stripping himself of his clothing too, he carefully joins you in the bathtub that you somehow made it feel so magical. He lets out a relaxed groan as he dips into the water and you giggle at him from behind.

“Don’t you want me behind?” He asks as he was usually the one who’d be behind but tonight you were the one who was leaning against the curve of the rose gold marble bathtub. Your entire apartment was a mixture of soothing colors of black, grey, white and rose gold. By researching and constantly trying to help your husband with his stress, you decided the house to be as minimalistic and sleek as possible. Too much clutter might make him feel suffocated. And due to your researches together, the two of you agreed to the beautifully neutral and minimalistic designed apartment you have right now.

“No,” you reply softly as your palms rest on his shoulders, carefully massaging them. “Tonight is about taking care of you, Mr. Ackerman.” You whisper and leave a kiss on his shoulder and neck. He lets out another groan at the feeling of comfort and leans towards your touch.

Your hands were caressing his body as far as your arms could reach while massaging him and helping him relax. He was quiet for the most part and you didn’t mind that either. Your baths together were sometimes silent like today’s. Levi was the one who would usually be washing you or caressing your body but today you figured it’s time he receives too. He leans back to rest his head between your breasts, and closes his eyes while your hand was teasing his member. He gasps silently when your fingers wrap around his tip and your hand moves up and down but neither of you had any sort of energy to fuck each other tonight and you both knew that. You pause the teasing when he holds your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours. He simpers silently, a look of cockiness on his face and starts to speak.

“You’re so tiny,” he remarks softly.

“I’m almost the same height as you,” you retaliate at his words, the audacity this man had to say that to you while he was on the smaller scale too.

“Still taller than you, honey.” He boasts.

“By an inch or two.”

“Tch,” he finally lets out his defeat remark.

“Tch,” you decide to mimic him.

“Tch.”

“Tch.”

“Tch,” he says as a grin dares to paint his face and you feel it.

“Tch,” you giggle out too. Your expression softens when he kisses your hand, the foam transferring from your hands to his face. You giggle once again and move your hands to wipe away the foam quickly before they enter his mouth.

“This smells good, is it new?” He hums out and inhales loudly, trapping the scent inside his nose. It really did smell nice.

“Yep, I got it recently. It’s from BBW’s aromatherapy line. It’s supposed to help you sleep,” you explain softly while Levi was silently gathering the foam in front of him and watching it. You end up smiling at his cute behavior and then it hits you. Does he really notice all these tiny things you do? “I didn’t think you’d notice this.” You whisper.

“What? I do. You enjoy these things and it brings you joy. Of course I’d notice,” he points out. “You leaving our work to achieve your goal was one of the best decision of your life. I saw your energy change. Seeing how this new work of yours makes you happy and express yourself makes me happy.” He adds as his hands play with yours. He was usually short and blunt with words but he could go on forever if it was you he had to compliment or talk to. That’s just how he felt, he trusted you and felt comfortable with you. You sit silently with a pout and kiss the back of his head.

“I love you,” you express yourself, resting your head on his whole happiness fills your heart. Though these three words weren’t enough to describe the fuzzy and warm feeling he manages to leave your soul with.

Once the two of you were done with the bath, you slip into your comfy night clothes; yours a short baby pink satin nightdress that stopped mid thigh and Levi decided to wear his dark grey sweats with his loose white top. You loved him in that outfit; he always looked so welcoming in it.

The two of you did a lot of things in sync but one thing was almost never in sync... your nighttime routine. You always took your time to apply the products on your face and body before you decide to sink into bed and today was no different. You sit on your long two-seater ottoman which you placed in front of your vanity. Even your vanity was organized. One side was dedicated to Levi; which had his body cream, his perfumes, his moisturizer. That was pretty much it but tonight there were some new products there. When you were out buying and looking at skincare products, you figured your husband should need to start his routine properly and picked up some new products to keep him feeling fresh and protected from sunlight, aging, and just keeping him glowing and looking fresh. You look up to see Levi from the mirror’s reflection, plopping down on the bed, his legs hanging from the edge as he grabs his phone to scroll through it. You were silently hoping this new bath foam you got would work and he’d get some sleep. Levi always had trouble sleeping and you were constantly trying this and that to make sure he got more than 2 hours of sleep. With the look of his eyes and eyebags, you knew he was desperate for sleep but he just didn’t know how to lure himself into that state.

“Oh,” he suddenly says and you look back at him through the mirror reflection. He was sitting up now and looking at you. “Erwin gave us a day off tomorrow.” He announces.

“Well, isn’t that nice.” You smile at him as your hands were busy working their routine of applying products on your face and body; knowing exactly what to do. You never skipped your night routine and your hands simply knew by now what to do even when your mind didn’t.

Your eyes were planted on Levi; you just wanted him to come and do his routine but you didn’t want to bother your weary husband. Before you could even say or do anything, Levi gets up from the bed and walks towards you to join you on the bench; as if he heard the thought in your mind. His eyes centered on the new addition on his side and you suddenly realize what he was wondering. A smile creeps on your face when you notice the curiosity in his eyes, like a child who had entered a toy store or a bird who just left its nest and had the entire world to explore. The little glow in his eyes contrasted the furrow of his brows clearly indicated that this man right here was confused to what each of these did. Sure you had told him before but you knew he’d need more than just one push hence why you never stopped bringing him skincare along with yours. Tonight it seemed like the night you could educate him and use your expertise to convince him why he needs to listen to you.

“It’s for you. All of it,” you clarify and a nod comes from him. You chuckle at Levi when he pops open a moisturizer and moves to sniff at it.

“It smells nice,” he adds. “But I just need moisturizer, babe. You didn’t have to get all,” his hand proceeds to make a circle on top of the dresser as he continues, “this.”

“Yes I did,” you defend yourself. “We are turning old. We should take extra care of yourselves, don’t you think?” You get up and move to stand between Levi’s legs to which he automatically spreads them open to give you space. He looks up at you with eyes observing you. You lean against the vanity, your hands wrapping around Levi’s neck. “I will take care of you, Mr Ackerman, so you can get a tip or two.” You say nonchalantly with a smile. Levi ends up chuckling too since he knew your tone was the same tone you use at work. You grab a fluffy hair band that had bear ears on top and move to put it on Levi; pushing his hair back and revealing his flawless skin. Levi sat there glaring at you but you knew from the glow in his eyes that he could care less about it. You start with the routine as you grab a cotton pad and open up the toner bottle. “First of all, you need to apply a toner to bring back the moisture you lost from washing your face.” You explain as you bend over and come closer to his face while your hand moves to pat his face softly with the cotton. Levi’s eyes were on you the entire time you spoke; you didn’t even know if he was shy or if he was listening or why he was even staring but the entire time, his eyes never left your figure or movements. Never missed the product you used or the way his eyes would fall to your lips as you speak. It was almost as if his eyes were stuck on you. You still continue the routine, explaining each step as you go on, giving him tips he should know like to not rub in products aggressively but to pat them in more, or how he should apply them in an upward direction and avoid the downward direction, and you continuously remind him why each product is important. Levi listened intently and carefully, he knew that you knew what you were talking about but he was more in awe with how powerful you looked being in your element. “And lastly,” you twirl open the cap of a night cream. “The night cream.” You apply the cream onto your ring finger and gently apply it on his cheeks, his chin, forehead and then you grin as you put it on his nose, making a ‘boop’ sound, which causes you to earn a smile from him too. He was sitting there quietly the entire time you almost felt like he was a customer at your salon or like a little child, carefully trying their best to focus on your words or in awe with the knowledge you had. You rub and pat in the product and step back when he clears his throat, signaling that he wants to speak.

“How do I know what cream to put at night?” Your lips stretch into another smile as you hear how genuine curiosity wrapped around his tone. He was too cute tonight.

“It says it on the package, dear.” You point at the two creams behind you and move away slightly to let him see it. His eyes finally move away from you and land on the vanity as he silently nods in understanding like a student finally understanding a math problem. You give his face one final pat before you stand up straight and politely grin at him. “And we’re done,” you start to move away before he grabs your hands and kisses them.

“Thank you,” he says as his thumb gently draws circles on top of your hands. “Do you have coupons?” Your eyebrows furrow at his odd and random question and he elaborates more as he realizes that must’ve confused you. “I want to give it to the kids... Connie, Jean, Eren... you know. The kids.” He stumbles on his words when he notices the smile your face had. He was flustered because he knew that you know how soft he is for his team.

You nod silently and giggle. “Yes Levi, I do have coupons. Make sure you give it to the girls too.” You tease him, emphasizing on the word ‘girls’, as you sit down next to him and go through your drawer to look for the coupons. Levi looks from behind you too but then indulges at his new glowy skin as he pats his cheeks the way you had earlier. He suddenly feels proud of you again and a smirk paints his face as his eyes twinkle at the sight that is you. He notices you hadn’t brushed your hair yet so he gets up to stand behind you and pulls you back to make you sit up straight. Your eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror and before you could ask what he was doing, he beats you to it.

“You didn’t braid your hair. I’ll do it for you,” he leans forward to grab your hair brush and softly brushes your hair back and starts braiding it.

“The coupons are in this drawer. Take as many as you like,” you tell him after a while. He nods at your words.

“Will you do this every night?” He asks with a child like tone that wraps your heart with warmth. How could you even say no to him.

“Do what?” You tease him.

“This, my routine.” You knew he was flustered when he starts using small words.

“No,” you watch his lips quickly drop to a pout and a laughter breaks from your lips. “You have to do it too, Levi. We’ll do it side by side so you know the steps.”

“What if I use coupons?” Another laughter bursts out from your chest at how he tried to get this victory. You were pleased to know he liked it though.

“How about this, I’ll do your night routine for you three times a week,” you suggest as your hand raises three fingers and you wait for a response from him.

“Four.” He demands and attempts to negotiate.

“Three.”

“Four. I only use one coupon per week. You do it three times weekly and fourth would be if I use coupon.” He adds a new deal.

Feeling satisfied with the deal, you nod. “Deal.”

Once you were done with the time of sitting in front of the vanity, you both walk back to the bed but then you remember one last step. Body lotion. You bring the bottle to him and earn a “Tch” from him but he applies it regardless by watching you do it. Levi moves his hand to open up your braid too. It was something you always did, you didn’t sleep with your hair tied but you braid it before sleeping only to open it up after a few minutes. It helped your hair not to go crazy when you lay down. It melts your heart knowing how Levi knew even the smallest details of your routine and noticed things you didn’t think he would. You two share a loving smile as you continue to apply lotion together and joke around or tease each other a little. 

“Make sure to take care of your neck too, baby.” You remind him and you both work in sync in rubbing in the lotion onto your arms, chest, legs and neck. You apply your lip balm as usual and Levi shares it with you as you both move closer to perch in the middle of the bed. You two always shared your lip balm for some reason and you never complained nor minded it. To Levi, it made his heart fill up with love sharing your lip balm with you, patting his lips with the surface your lips had grazed over always made him go crazy inside. His excuse to why he did that was that he was too lazy to buy one or open a new one... even after he had confessed to it, he still rarely admitted every time you or someone else teased him about it.

After a while, your bodies were tangled with each other as you lay your head on his chest silently, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and basking in the scent of chamomile that you both bathed in and lotioned your bodies with. The scent bringing about a feeling of calm and sleep which was slowly creeping its way up on both of you. You knew the new aromatherapy you brought was working when you realize how sleepy Levi was getting too. He swiftly changes position as he lays on his side, his arms wrapped around your waist as you both move to the embracing position. He pulls you closer, burying his face on your chest right on top of your breast and under your neck and chin as he sharply inhales and relaxes afterwards. He always seemed to love doing that, especially when he was really exhausted or needed to sleep. You could feel the way his breathing was getting stable and the more you played with his hair and gently scratched his undercut, the more he got pulled into sleep. It was like a spell.

“Goodnight,” he mumbles against your skin after a while and pecks your open skin, pulling you even closer towards him.

“Goodnight baby... it’s time you sleep.” You kiss the top of his head as you both slowly fall into deep sleep together.

#snk #shingeki no kyoujin #levi attack on titan #attack on titan #aot #aot imagines #aot levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi shingeki no kyojin #levi headcanons #levi fluff #aot fanfiction #aot fluff #snk fluff #snk fanfiction

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt.4

Whooo! The last part! Are You guys proud of me? I wanted to make it really sweet and solidify them as a non-toxic couple. Ugh I loved writing this reader. So happy to live and breath for Bucky (yes, ‘tis me). Requests are open, so if you ever miss her, and want a ‘Made For You’ drabble or epilogue or something, let me know.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, stockholm syndrome, slight dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping, mutual pining, SMUT, ORAL (f receiving), FLUFF, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

Bucky sauntered into the kitchen, happier than he has been in at least 70 years. Things seem like they’re looking up. Out of Hydra’s control, gorgeous girl who likes the way the carpet feels on her knees. He felt guilty, but he was happy. That is, he was happy until he saw Steve sitting on a kitchen barstool, and he was snapped back to the reality of his situation.

“Hey man. Do you know where the number to that Chinese place is?” Bucky asked Steve, not meeting his eyes as he rummaged through the drawers.

“Yeah, it’s on a menu in the drawer to your right.” Steve pointed to the drawer in question.

“Thanks.” Bucky replied, looking over the options and wondering what she would like. Bucky remembered how it was when he was first free from Hydra. He hadn’t had processed foods in decades, and his stomach couldn’t take it. He decided on nothing spicy, just some noodles with broccoli and beef. Then he doubled that order for himself. This made Steve’s brows perk up.

“Eating for two, Buck? Steve asked once his friend was off the phone.

“I told Y/n I’d order dinner while she showered.” He said, shrugging like he hadn’t just gotten a world class blowjob.

“Dinner? So what’s going on with you two? You barely talked to her on the ride here. Did something change?” Steve asked, as Sam walked into the kitchen, joining their conversation.

“Dinner? You and Y/n are having dinner?” He asked, trying to catch up, but Steve only knew as much as he did.

“We... talked. She’s nice. I just want her to be happy while she’s here because she’s got nowhere else to go.” Bucky shrugged. Pulling out two cups and filling them with ice and some fruity beverage- which both men noticed.

“”Buck, you’re not actually gonna pursue her are you?” Steve asked? This was what Bucky was dreading. He knew Y/n probably needed years of therapy and to be far away from him, but he also knew that he was happy, and Y/n looked so at peace when she made him happy. So why can’t they both just be happy together?

“I don’t know man. I mean, she really likes me, and I don’t have to hide anything from her. She makes me seem like the sane one.

“But Buck, she needs help. She’s been in captivity for a decade only thinking about pleasing you. How are you okay with that?” Steve looked disappointed in him, but he knew Bucky wasn’t trying to take advantage of the situation, he wanted to be happy.

“Shit, I’m okay with it. Do you know what I would do to have a girl that looks like that look at me the way she looks at Bucky? And without all the annoying things women do. Aye, I think if she’s happy making you happy, what’s so wrong about it?” Sam finished. Steve thought it over for a second. He still didn’t love the idea, but had to admit Y/n really wanted to be around Bucky. Keeping her from him would only make her miserable.

“I never wanted to take advantage of her. But she literally begs. What am I supposed to do? Be an asshole? Not to mention, I’m happy too. It’s nice having someone really care about you, you know?” Steve gave him a look. “I know you idiots care about me, but I mean a woman. It’s not like I’m gonna do much better than Y/n. Beautiful women aren’t lining up to date a 85 year old, ex-murderer with a metal arm.” And he was right. Where would he find better than a woman Hydra made just for him?

The doorbell rang, and Bucky paid for the food. He picked up the drinks he prepared and said goodbye to his friends. Bucky knew the whole situation was kinda fucked, but he also found himself missing Y/n in the time he was in the kitchen, and that feeling was only eased by the knowledge that she’s in her room, waiting for him to return.

But when he got there, it took everything in him to not drop the food where he stood. She was sitting crisscrossed on the bed, knitting, in just a t-shirt he gave her. Her pussy was on display for him the minute he walked in the door.

“I- I got- the umm... The food is here.” He said as he walked in and placed it on the table.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She said as she put the needles down and walked over to the table. “It smells good.” She said, looking at different labels and the cups of juice.

“Yeah.” He said, zoning out a little at the sight of her bare legs. Much more of them were exposed than earlier. He could see the shape of her hips, and he watched her nipples harden under his gaze- his cock twitched in response. “You didn’t like the sweatpants?”

“Not really, I was too warm. And pants feel weird in between my legs.” She responded, looking up at him with big eyes. He groaned. It’s like her responses turned him on when she wasn’t even trying to. He assumed they trained her to be so seductive, but he swears part of it almost seemed natural. Like for some reason he couldn’t help but be turned on by her.

The two of them shared their meals together at the little table. He could tell she was a little nervous around him, but also happy to be in his company. Bucky also noticed how good she is at making conversation. Always polite, but she knew exactly the right things to say.

“So you’re definitely gonna knit me a sweater right?” He jested, empty takeout boxes discarded in the trash.

“I’d love to. But it’s gonna take a whole lot of yarn. I don’t know if anyone told you, Bucky, but you’re kinda broad.” She said with light in her eyes.

“I’ll get you all the yarn you want, Y/n.”

“What color do you want it?” She asked.

“You pick, Babydoll.” He said, pulling her chair a little closer to himself. He couldn’t help wanting to be closer to her.

“I want yarn the color of your eyes, Bucky. Sir, you’re so beautiful.” In their proximity, she definitely noticed his reaction to her calling him ‘Sir’. Feeling emboldened, she continued. “Do you like when I call you sir?” She asked.

“Yeah, Babydoll.” He breathed, they were pulling each other in like magnets. Everything felt like it was coming into place for the two of them.

“Then why do you tell me to call you Bucky?” Her giggles were cut off by a bruising kiss. She immediately felt his tongue demanding entry that she was too happy to allow. He picked her up from her chair, and placed her on his lap, straddling him.

“Because I can’t think straight when you call me that.” He said, standing with her legs around his waist. He could feel her wet, pantie-less pussy rubbing against his abs, and groaned in frustration. He was hard as steel.

He sat her gently on the bed, and started sliding down her body.

“You’re only gonna wear my clothes, okay?” He ordered. He knew she would do whatever he asked of her, but he would never ask her to do anything bad. Just seeing her in nothing but his shirt did something to him.

He pushed up the shirt, and kissed all the newly exposed skin. His cold, metal arm felt heavenly on her hard nipples. He kissed and licked all the way down her belly until he reached where she wanted him most.

“What are you doing, Sir?” She asked him when he started separating her folds.

“I’m about to eat this pretty pussy, Babydoll.” He looked at her from in between her legs.

“Ohhh. Why?” She asked. She didn’t want to sound dumb in front of him, but in her studies, she never saw anything being reciprocated. She assumed her body was just for his pleasure. But if this is what he wanted, who was she to complain.

“Because it’s soaking wet, beautiful, and I want a taste. Plus, how else am I gonna fit in here if I don’t get you ready? I can’t break my shiny new toy on the first day. My shiny Babydoll.” He said before taking a long lick from her entrance to her clit. “Mmm tastes so sweet. Like sugar water.”

“They only let me drink water and cranberry juice.” She giggled, glad to see him enjoying something she worked so hard for.

“Damn, if we didn’t kill Hydra, I’d have to write them a thank you card.” He joked, putting a finger in her hole and sucking her clit. She was moaning quite uncontrollably, she never felt pleasure like this (or really at all), and it was overwhelming for her.

But then he stopped all of a sudden. He kissed back up her body, and left his finger inside of her- something clawing at his mind.

“They- Hydra didn’t touch you did they? Did they touch my Babydoll?” He asked, looking her deep in the eyes. Just the thought of them touching his girl brought rage to his chest.

“N- no, Sir. They wanted me t-to, to be untouched for my S-Soldat.” She was finally able to muster. He wasn’t helping her concentration. After he ask his question, he added another finger and started stroking her walls. Upon her answer, he hummed and pulled her into a kiss.

“Y/n, You’re so good for me, Babydoll. But I don’t think I can take another minute not inside you.” He said, pulling off his clothes with one hand, the other knuckle deep in her pussy. As his hand increased speed, and his thumb pressed on her clit, she clenched around his two fingers and came. He pressed his tip into her entrance before she even came down.

“Sir, you’re so big.” She squealed.

“Babydoll, I’m barely in you yet.” He laughed before he drove home. Her legs wrapped around him as she screamed. The pain disappeared after the initial shock, help by the powerful orgasm she just had. But that orgasm seemed like nothing compared to the one he was currently brewing inside her with every hit to her cervix.

“So goddamn tight, Babydoll. Like you were Made For Me™️. I’m gonna cum so deep inside you, Y/n. Do you want that? Want me to claim you right here?” He pressed his hand on her belly, where he could feel himself bulging out of her from his size.

“Yes! Bucky, Yes!” She shouted, the knot deep inside her about to snap. “Please, make me yours, Sir” She moaned out his name like a prayer.

“Yes, good Y/n. My precious Babydoll. I’m about to cum baby. Cum with me, Y/n.” He said, grinding his pelvis in every thrust to rub against her clit. One of his arms supported his body while the other massaged her sensitive nipples.

Her orgasm was explosive, and the tightness around him felt so good, he followed her into the abyss. She shook and shuddered, while he stroked her hair, not ready to pull out of her just yet. They didn’t say anything until after he left to get her a washcloth to clean up her sopping, sensitive pussy. He was damn near mesmerized by the way she jumped a little from the overstimulation, and loved how his cum gushed out of her a little every time she breathed. He knew he needed this girl in his life forever.

“Bucky, I always wondered what happened to the women in those videos after her job was done.” She whispered against his lips when he came back up and put his arms around her.

“I doubt they got the special treatment like you do, but you deserve it for being my shiny Babydoll.” He told her and kissed her nose.

“Why do you call me that?” She asked.

“Because you look like a doll and you’re my favorite new toy.” He chuckled against her lips. Lazy kisses being exchanged between the two.

“So you’re gonna keep me?” She beamed at him.

“Of course I’m gonna keep ya, silly girl. You’re absolutely perfect. And it would be pretty rude to not keep a gift made just for me.” He kissed her one last time before she tucked her face into his neck and fell asleep.

He knew he’d have to teach her all the compassionate things about a relationship Hydra never did, but he was happy knowing that he’d protect her the way he had all those years ago. And that being with him is all she wanted.

~ if you wanna join my tag list/ be removed just let me know!!! My asks, replies, and messages are always open.

@austynparksandpizza @dracris33 @crzcorgi @musicheaux @little-moonbeam-666 @andydre4m @anakinravageme @hydrasbitches @bl4ckglitt3r @wondergirl556 @wannamonster @cremedelabrulee @buckybarnes-bitch @yazzyu

#bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #steve rodgers smut #chubby!bucky #winter soldier smut #winter solider x reader #the avengers smut #the avengers #captian america

[retrievablememories]

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

--

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app. 

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :) 

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos 

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

--

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take. 

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” 

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...” 

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human. 

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards. 

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

--

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

--

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

--

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway. 

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust. 

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button. 

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

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