#but they seem to know enough to get the gist of things

[ajastu]

ok tho i think its fun that like. Rook knows qunlat on some level. You can find notes that say 'translated from qunlat' at the top, during tearstone they can tell what the antaam are saying in the distance, and if you romance Taash they know what taarala means, etc etc etc

Its such a random little detail but im kind of obsessed

[tentacleplains]

more scenes that basically everyone sees but pointing out a specific detail i find interesting: "though i hope you don't cause a scene this time" does avery regularly cause scenes at parties?? lmao

[witherby]

i need more damian x mer!reader plssss😞😞😞 im literally OBSESSED with it

YOU'RE ALL SUCH SWEETIES!!! Ok gang, just for you 🩷

⚠️ HEADS UP: this part features conflict. There's blood, some unintentional self harm, language barriers, and general chaos! ⚠️

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 4

Click to read parts 1, 2, and 3 here!

There's another rock sitting on the lip of the tank — one of the painted, water-safe ones they let you have — when Damian and Bruce arrive for dinner.

It's the weekend, meaning the aquarium is closed, and it takes a little more smacking on the surface of the water than usual for you to pop up. You shoot Bruce a disinterested glance, his presence vaguely familiar, then chirp sleepily at Damian, evidently having been awoken from a nap.

"Hey, Pr—" Damian catches himself and fakes a cough, then addresses you by your actual name. You furrow your brow, irritated, but still reach forward to take the offered bucket.

Holding it carefully in one arm, your other, webbed hand nudges the rock into Damian's lap. Damian pockets it with an easy nod, signing Thank You. Delighted, you offer him some crab after splitting the shell open with your teeth. He declines. Oh well; more for you!

Eating in front of Damian is little issue, but having Bruce stare at you so intently makes you turn away, hugging the food to your chest and rumbling quietly. Conversation floats in the air behind you.

" — might already be bonded. How often...swim together?"

"At least twice a....insisted it wasn't harming...wouldn't if I realized...promise."

Hmm. Your mate-to-be sounds upset. You dislike that greatly. You spit a half-chewed carp back into the bucket.

"Damian, I know...not mad at you for...unprecedented, you understand that, right? This...to a wild animal...vastly unintelligent..."

You growled and spun back around, tail swishing around fast enough to make the surface of the tank slightly choppy. Unintelligent?! Who was unintelligent? You learned every stupid spin, squeak, and trick you'd been taught! And your Damian was the brightest, kindest, most special caretaker in this whole place!

Bruce looks at you in confusion. Damian looks at you with awe, because he knows you're smart enough to pick up on the gist of most things, like the conversation they're having with each other. English is not your mother tongue, but you are learning, slowly and steadily. Because you are not unintelligent!

You bare your teeth, snapping them twice at Bruce, and firmly push the half-empty bucket over the lip of the tank. It clatters to the floor, the metal twang echoing around the room loud enough to make your head-fins flatten. Both land creatures jump back to avoid getting fish guts all over their legs (a word you learned recently, because you're very smart!), but Damian comes back to the edge of the tank to soothe you quickly.

"Easy, Princess," he mutters, the nickname slipping out this time. You preen and rest your chin on his extended palm, blinking up at his beautiful, green eyes. Your tail stops swishing as hard, and he seems to ease up at the same time you do. Reading your physical cues and responding accordingly is one of the reasons Damian quickly became your favorite, and this demonstration only hits that nail on the head. "Everything is just fine. Father and I are simply talking." He gestures to your discarded dinner. "Do you want any more?"

You huff and turn your face away. Damian takes your dismissal for what it really is and looks at Bruce next.

"You should apologize."

His father's eyes widen. "For what? I didn't throw a bucket on the ground."

"For the slight regarding their cognitive ability. You hurt their feelings." Damian sounds offended on your behalf. It makes something in your chest thrum pleasantly. "I'll fetch a broom for the mess while you say you're sorry."

"I can grab the broom —" one sharp look from his son quiets Bruce down immediately. You and he both watch Damian leave the room, then the human regards you warily while you regard him with a scowl.

Bruce tries to approach the tank. You bare your teeth and he stops. Good human. Good, rude human. Do not approach. You are very scary and fearsome. You might just use your teeth for something more than food if sufficiently provoked.

"You really can understand me, can't you?" He asks, almost rhetorically. The flat look you give him makes his cheeks flush with color. "You can. That's...fascinating. I've skimmed your file of course — I co-run the aquarium, I have to be knowledgeable of all the animals — but I obviously don't know you like my son does."

Ugh. This land creature uses small words. Damian uses big words, which helps you learn faster even if it's more difficult to latch onto what he's talking about.

Bruce calls your name again, and your eyes snap to his. He looks less embarrassed and more curious. More like he's recognizing you as a being capable of proper thought and not some dumb, prey animal in a big play pen. Something in you becomes less tense.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "Really. I'm coming from a place of concern, is all. I never intended to hurt your feelings. You mean a lot to my son, and the feeling seems to be mutual. My concern is just...the extent of the feeling. Damian doesn't have many human friends, and hiring him on to help manage the aquarium hasn't encouraged him in that regard. I just don't...I just want him to..."

He trails off and sighs. This time, when Bruce tries to take a step closer, you keep your teeth hidden behind your lips. He perches on the lip of the tank to look at you, blue eyes taking in all your aquatic features. They're pretty, reminding you of the water, but not as pretty as Damian's.

Just for fun, you puff up and flare out all of your fins just to see him flinch back. Your chirping laughter makes Bruce crack his own smile, and he shakes his head.

"I understand why he adores you," he mutters, something fond in his tone. You sway back and forth in the water with a prideful trill. Obviously you adore him back. That's why you gave him your scales, to prove your devotion. As soon as Damian gives you something valuable back, you'll be life-mates! You're so excited!

"I think... I think that's the biggest reason why I have to separate you two."

You freeze when your brain processes what he just said. Damian reenters the room at that moment, carrying a broom and dust pan to sweep up your abandoned meal.

"Those imbecilic interns moved the cleaning supplies again," he scowls, taking care of the food with a shake of his head. "I swear, father, no one knows how to put anything back in this facility. Some days it feels like Tim and I are the only competent people here."

"And your old man, right?" Says Bruce, rising to his feet. Damian doesn't answer that. "Oh, ouch." His teasing tone shifts, becomes earnest and quiet. "You know I only want what's best for you, right, Tadpole?"

"I know," the boy sighs, dumping the food into a nearby garbage can. He turns to face you, smiling, until he sees the fear on your face. "Something wrong?"

You click your tongue and whistle imploringly, lifting a hand out of the water to beckon him closer. Damian moves to comply, but Bruce's hand curling around his arm impedes his progress. You immediately whistle again, more insistent. More distressed.

"Father, let go, they're upset by something. Let me —"

"I can't do that, kiddo," Bruce frowns, firmly but not unkindly. "I'm reassigning them a new primary caretaker. The emotional attachment to you is too detrimental to their life here."

Damian's eyes widen. "You're not serious."

He tries to yank his arm out of Bruce's grip, but the man is taller and stronger than his son. He wraps his other arm around Damian's waist, guiding him towards the doors.

"Father, let go of me! This is not — everything is fine! I-I won't swim in the tank anymore, I won't physically touch them anymore, I promise! Don't do this!"

Your trilling becomes sharper as you note the distress in your beloved's voice. You throw your arms up to the edge of the tank and try to hoist yourself over, but you've never done it without the help of a caretaker, and you slip back into the water with a rough splash. Undeterred, you flick your tail to give you more momentum, scrabbling against the smooth, concrete edge and crooning for Damian.

You see his vibrant, green eyes, focused on you and glittering like your scales. They've never looked so shiny. Instinctively, you know this isn't a positive trait for a land creature to have.

"Stop, please stop! Look at them, they'll get hurt if you take me away," Damian insists, thrashing against his dad. Bruce hangs on tighter, almost dragging him at this point. "Don't — don't, Baba, please, I'm not hurting them at all, I'll figure out how to break off the engagement, I'll do whatever you want!"

"Calm down, Damian," Bruce murmurs, "please, we're gonna talk about this, I promise, but right now you need to —"

Both of them startle when you finally jump out of the tank, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. The hard surface scrapes against your skin and scales in a distinctly uncomfortable way, but you ignore it and start dragging your body towards Damian. Your arms buckle under the strain of maneuvering yourself out of the water, and the flopping of your long, heavy tail isn't helping as much as you'd hoped.

Bruce yanks Damian behind him protectively and pulls a radio off his hip. You hiss and snarl, offended that he would dare think you'd hurt him. Damian tries to duck out from under him, calling to you with obvious concern.

You croon back, the sound low and warbly in your anger, and lunge for him. Scales get scraped painfully off of your tail, leaving a trail of red that you pay no mind. Bruce dodges your clumsy attempts and hoists Damian up by the waist so he doesn't break away either. More of your caretakers burst through the doors, one of them holding a funny, shiny contraption, and there's lots more yelling. They all look as panicked and distressed as you feel.

Good. They should know how much pain they're causing by taking away your precious Damian.

One of the caretakers — named Clark, you think; he comes around mostly to do your health checkups — crouches low and flashes his palms in a show of no ill intent. You reach out with your own palm and lurch forward again, shoving him out of your way. He will not impede you. None of them will.

More scales litter the concrete, stained red with blood. The shiny contraption held in another person's hands — Dick, the loud one you remember — makes a sharp popping noise, and you feel something stab your shoulder.

You flinch back momentarily, palming at it. Damian's distressed yelling reaches a crescendo, and you feel compelled to meet it.

Your jaw clicks from stretching your mouth open so wide. Instinct and rage guide you to draw breath, deeper than you ever have, and bellow.

The resulting sound is a haunting wail, piercing the air around you and making the water in the tank ripple, making the land creatures cry and cover their ears, making the windows rattle and warp. You wail and cry and scream at the injustice, at the audacity of these people to take from you what is yours. You want it back. You want him back. You want Damian!

You see Clark buckle and clutch at his head. You see Dick drop the shiny device that hurt you. You see Bruce grit his teeth and cover one ear, the other busy holding onto Damian.

You see Damian pressing his hands to his ears. You see water running down his face. You see him looking at you with a mixture of fear and upset.

Your mouth falls closed with a snap of your teeth, startled and ashamed. You had hurt Damian. You hurt him and he was scared of you now.

That was not supposed to happen. You didn't mean it.

What have you done?

There's movement in your periphery you pay no mind to. Your back lights up with pain in two more places, and the world slowly starts to spin and lose focus. You stop resisting and slump to the floor, eyes drooping as you continue to look forlornly at Damian.

Damian, who looks back as more tears run down his face. Damian, who is screaming again. Damian, who vanishes through the doors that Bruce finally drags him off to.

You warble miserably and close your eyes, letting the sedatives take you away into a fitful slumber.

[mike-wachowski]

okay so i think genuinely that the carbon monoxide poisoning shared hallucination has to do with Van, Akilah, and Shauna, and their various places in the wilderness/ways in which the wilderness is attached to them:

WITH AKILAH: the wilderness fed her berries that she gorged on and took her to animals, it even came and spoke to her in the form of the llama (presumably a creature akilah would view as cuddly, soft, nonthreatening, not a sheep but not a wolf, either) it gave her advice. everything that has teeth bites. and when the dream took her to the classroom, it pulled her through the dirt slowly. the wilderness has been frequently compared to the ground itself throughout the show; even Misty said "thank dirt" jokingly as a way to thank the wilderness. I think akilah getting pulled into the dirt was exactly that: the wilderness pulling her into it's embrace. Maybe travis was right, maybe the wilderness is talking to akilah, maybe it has a favorite.

in the classroom, the slap bracelet adheres harmlessly to akilah's wrist- the wilderness's loving embrace. it doesn't want to harm akilah, but it will have her eventually, one way or another.

WITH VAN: the wilderness took her back to the cabin. it put a roof over her head, gave her a cozy chair, and a warm fire. but after a moment of rest, van was trapped in like she was in the plane, stuck and burning. it also isn't remiss to me how van goes to the cabin pre-decay, how everything looks upkept, im not sure if this is an allusion to the ways that van is stuck in the past or something else. i think that is the gist of it though; the wilderness is van's home, and she is trapped there, trying to escape but always opening doors that lead right back to it.

in the classroom, when van tries the slap bracelet, it scratches her but not enough to maim or kill: i think this maybe means that the wilderness can't hurt van, won't hurt van, but van isn't as unkillable as she seems. She can still be hurt and killed, but not by the wilderness- maybe something else will end up being her demise.

WITH SHAUNA: i find it so fascinating that in shauna's vision she is in the lake, very similarly to how lottie was during her baptism scene, and she's dragged down to the bottom of the water as lottie was too. but, of course, the obvious: shauna's pursuit of the things she cannot have. shauna, constantly swimming towards the shore, chasing after her son, who she lost, trying to bring back jackie, trying to grapple for power in the group. shauna is in such a unique position because she has never once in the course of what we've seen give in to or believe in the wilderness, except to hunt (and maybe for shauna, the hunt is something more selfish), and it almost seems in this moment, the wilderness is punishing her for it,

because the slap bracelet completely rejects her. it tries to kill her. wraps arounf her neck and chokes her, cuts through her skin. obviously we know in the moment that thats actually because shauna was choking on the gas in the cave, but what if it's an indication of a bitter future for shauna? if shauna tries to steal the crown from natalie and name herself queen, i think this moment tells us explicity how the wilderness will react. firm rejection. the wilderness did not pick shauna. doesn't even seem to like her, really. and why should it? shauna doesn't believe in it, doesn't play by it's rules.

and lottie playing teacher in that scene. we know she feels cut off from the wilderness, and i think in this moment were seeing the reflection of her "pupilage". we know she's already set her sights on akilah but maybe in the future we'll see lottie trying to force van and shauna to commune with the wilderness as well.

and dont get me started on jackie. jackie still in her mean girl persona, judging everyone's reactions to the bracelet, the wilderness itself personified. she tells van that happens sometimes when she cries out from the pain like van is embarrassing for reacting, like she should've known all along what would happen if she took the bracelet. and we cant ignore that jackie's hair is noticeably longer, like time has passed for her, like she's changed too.

anyways, im so excited to see where this goes throughout the season. i love this show.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

A day with the Fitzgeralds

(Dean Winchester x female reader)

Summary You and Dean visit Garth and Bess while you’re close by. There’s babies and diapers and a house full of chaos, and maybe Dean likes the look of you with the kids. CWs Glimpses of Dad!Dean. Family planning fluff. Garth being Garth. Rated Teen. 2.9k words.

Dean Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

You were hanging up on Sam just as Dean was pulling up to the house.

“We’ll see you when we get back,” Dean was saying into the phone you held between you two.

“Alright,” Sam replied. “Say hi to Garth and Bess for me.”

Ending the call, you put your phone in your back pocket, looked outside at the Fitzgerald house.

“It’s quaint,” you observed. Dean looked out the window too.

“Yeah,” he said, sighing, “can’t wait for our sleep-over with the werewolf family.” You chuckled.

“Beats some seedy motel,” you offered. Dean turned to you, grinning. “I like seedy motels.” You patted his arm, then opened your door.

“I know you do, honey,” you said.

Dean rang the bell, then took a step backwards, briefly running his hand into yours. You squeezed his and then the door was opened by a broadly smiling Garth.

“Hey you guys,” he said, widening his arms. Dean didn’t seem to want to step into them, so you did instead, squeezing the skinny man’s shoulders as you did.

“Good to see you, Garth,” you said, and he let you pass.

“Drive okay?” he asked just as Dean stepped closer, enduring a long hug.

“Yeah, all good,” he said, wrangling himself out of Garth’s arms and throwing you a look.

“Where’s Bess and the kids?” you asked to cover.

“They’re in the living room,” Garth replied. “Go on through.”

The cozy living room was only a few steps away. You had just enough time to see Bess sitting in an armchair, the twins in a little playpen before something grabbed you around the hips.

“BFA!” Gertie squealed, squeezing you. Your arm landed around her shoulders.

“Hey, squirt!” you grinned. Gertie let go of you, her little face beaming up at you.

“I have sooo much stuff to show you,” Gertie started rambling, not letting go of you. “I have a new game where you have to collect cards that are all pictures of boogers and Mom said we can make a cake or if not a cake then cookies.”

It was all one run-on sentence, but you thought you got the gist of it. Booger game. Baking a cake. Maybe cookies.

“That sounds awesome,” you replied, squeezing the little girl again. “I can’t wait.”

“Gertie,” Bess said, standing up and moving towards you, “give our guests a second to arrive, okay?” Gertie let go of you, reluctantly, and you and Bess hugged.

“It’s all good,” you said, pinching some of the girl’s hair between your fingers. “Me and the Gertster just have big plans.”

You heard Dean and Garth walk up behind you. Gertie shyly waved at Dean.

“We have the guest room downstairs made up for you,” Bess said, after also giving Dean a quick hug. “You guys wanna settle in first?” You looked down at Gertie.

“Dean can take the bags,” you said, throwing him a look over your shoulder. “I’m dying to see that booger game.”

Dean was back twenty minutes later while you were just laughing uproariously at one of the cartoon booger pictures Gertie was showing you.

“That is vile,” you said, making a face. Gertie was giggling like crazy and a rush of love for her went through you. Garth was putting the twins down for a nap and Bess was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. You showed Dean the card.

“Look at that,” you said, shaking your head. “Where was this kind of premium entertainment when we were young?” Dean chuckled, sitting down in one of the armchairs.

“No idea,” he said, “but I had an Etch-A-Sketch and I was freakin’ Michelangelo on that thing.” Gertie’s eyes went tide.

“You’re not supposed to say the f-word,” she lectured him. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Uhm” he said, but Gertie was already distracted. Looking at you, she said: “I’m gonna ask Mom if we can make the cake, okay, BFA?” You nodded.

“You do that, booger,” you said and Gertie ran off.

“BFA?” Dean asked, while you were putting together the game, putting it back into its box. “What does that mean?” You shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Only means best friend aunt,” you said, throwing Dean a look out of the corner of your eyes.

“Really?” he said, smiling a little.

“Yeah,” you replied, pushing yourself up from where you were squished between the couch and the small table you had been playing on.

“She christened me the last time I was here. But don’t be jealous.” You walked closer to Dean, and as he was raising one of his hands you held it. “I can have two best friends at the same time. I can be your…”

You thought for a second. “BFGF?” you asked. “Best friend girlfriend?” Dean chuckled.

“Sounds like a Bee Gees cover band,” he said and you grinned.

He raised his chin, looking up at you and you leaned down, kissed him.

“Gertie’s crazy about you,” Dean said when you separated. You sat on the arm of the chair, Dean’s arm going around you.

“Can’t say I blame her,” he added, petting your thigh.

“She’s got good taste, is all,” you said, leaning into him.

You were both quiet for a second, simply watching the sunrays falling through the window play across the wall of family photos, the reassuring sound of cars and people somewhere outside, Gertie’s excited voice in the kitchen.

“Would you ever want something like this?” Dean asked, not looking at you. You turned your head to him.

“Like what?” you asked. Dean shrugged, trying to look non-committal but you knew him well enough to recognize the seriousness on his face.

“This,” he said, using the hand that wasn’t around you to motion to the room you were in. “A house, mortgage, couple of kids.” He squeezed your leg where he was holding it.

“A handsome husband who’s an incredible lover,” he added, with a grin. You grimaced.

“Where do I find one of those?” you asked.

“Hey,” Dean said, squeezing again. You chuckled and he finally looked up at you.

“I don’t know,” you said slowly. “I guess I never really thought it would be an option. Not with hunting.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, absentmindedly running his hand over your leg. “We would have to get out of that first.”

You felt yourself tense a little. When had this gone from a would you to a we would?

“Do you want this?” you asked, your voice maybe sounding a little skeptical. “That would mean no more late nights at bars with no responsibility, no driving across the country,” you said. “Well, at least not as much of it. Plus diapers, and stuff.” Dean raised his free hand.

“Babies,” he said, like he was about to start a lecture, “are a lot like cars.”

“Oh, here we go,” you said, unable to suppress a grin.

“I’m just saying,” Dean continued, “there’s a logic, a system to how they work.”

“No,” you snorted, “babies are the exact opposite of that.” Dean shrugged.

“We’d figure it out,” he said and you tried not to get hung up on the we, but then Dean was looking up at you, catching your gaze.

“I could imagine doing it with you,” he said, his voice a little quieter.

You felt a shiver run over you. This was not the direction you had expected this little exchange to go. As if sensing the serious turn the conversation had taken, Gertie burst back into the room.

“We can bake cookies,” she said, a little out of breath and you just wanted to squish her. When she saw Dean’s arm around you, she wrinkled her nose.

“Eeew,” she said, “are you two cuddling?” Dean put his other arm around you too.

“You best believe we are,” he said and then, in a quieter, more theatrical tone: “And I might even kiss her later.”

You started laughing while Gertie ran from the room, screaming to the high heavens.

You were pretty sure you were going to find flour on your clothes and hair for a week when you all finally sat down for dinner, but there was a beautiful batch of rainbow sprinkle cookies cooling in the kitchen. Bess was a great cook, considering she and Garth mostly ate cow hearts, and you were all chatting away, Gertie proudly narrating her baking misadventures while the twins sat in their high chairs.

As you were getting up to collect the empty plates, Garth was just holding baby Sam when baby Cas knocked over his feeding bottle, sending juice flying everywhere.

“Oh muck,” Garth exclaimed. He was standing closest to Dean, so he turned around, quickly depositing the baby in his arms.

“Hold him for a second?” he asked. You pressed your lips together. You’d never seen Dean interact with a baby, but you were pretty sure he would hand the kid back as quickly as possible to Bess or Garth or even Gertie if he had to.

You put the plates in the sink, started running the water but then Bess was shooing you away, telling you no guest of hers would ever be doing the dishes. When you returned to the table you looked back at Dean and the toddler.

Instead of the panic and discomfort you were expecting in his eyes, he was looking down at baby Sam, quietly talking to him while letting him play with his finger. You felt a breath catch in your throat and saw that Dean was gently bouncing him on his leg.

“Wow,” you said, feeling a smile creep to your lips. “You’re good at that.” Dean looked at you, raising his eyebrows and grinning a little.

“I’m full of surprises, darlin’,” he said.

“I’ll say,” you replied, sitting down, Gertie pushing some wax crayons your way to help you with a picture she was drawing, but your eyes were caught on Dean.

“Sammy always got fidgety after dinner,” he said, then added: “The other Sammy, I mean.” You smiled, but you felt a little pinch in your heart.

Of course you always knew that Dean had essentially raised his little brother, their mother being dead and father barely around. You felt a little bad and a little naïve for thinking Dean wouldn’t be good at this.

It broke your heart, the circumstances under which he’d had to learn to be good at it, but it also filled you with love. Dean never gave his sweet, caring side enough credit, like it was something he needed to hide from the world. It had become your life’s mission to show him that he didn’t need to. Maybe it was closer to the surface than you’d thought.

“Alright,” Garth said, coming back from his clean-up mission. “Let me take this little goober off your hands.”

With that, he picked up Sam. You saw Dean looking after the two, father and son, a small smile on his face.

He caught your eye then, and you held his gaze, at least until Gertie tapped on your elbow, asking you to draw a tree.

The kids put to bed, you, Dean, Bess and Garth had sat around, chatting a little, but soon gone to bed. It was earlier than your usually bedtime, and much earlier than Dean’s, but as you climbed onto the creaking basement room pull-out couch, you couldn’t have been happier.

Dean tucked himself in behind you, one arm under your pillow, the other slung tightly around you. You stroked his hand, staring off into the near perfect darkness of the room, listening to the unfamiliar sounds the house was making.

“I could imagine doing it with you, too,” you said, quietly. You couldn’t feel Dean move and you wondered if he had already fallen asleep, but then you heard the rustling of the sheets, felt the movement of his head right behind yours, heard him breathe out of rhythm.

Also, you weren’t sure if he had understood what you meant, if that sentence had stuck as much in his head as it had in yours.

“Really?” he finally asked, also quietly, as if he was worried to say it out loud to the room.

You turned yourself around a little, because although you couldn’t really see him, you wanted to face him.

“Really,” you said. He had raised his head, was looking down at you and you could feel his warm breath on your face, smell his toothpaste.

“What would that mean?” Dean asked. He wasn’t one to get hung up on logistics, but he knew as well as you that you didn’t have the luxury of simply putting a child out into the world without first thinking about exactly what meant for the way you were living. You shrugged.

“I don’t know,” you answered, and it was the truth. You had no idea what that would mean, and it was hurting your head to even think about how much would need to change first for this to make sense.

“We’d figure it out, I guess,” you added. You felt Dean nod in the dark and then you felt him moving closer to you, the arm that had been around you running down over your hips and then to your thighs.

“Maybe we should already get some practice in,” he said, and you knew exactly what that tone he was saying it with meant. You grinned, lifting your head up to catch his lips as you gently kissed.

“I don’t really think that much practice is necessary, it’s pretty basic stuff,” you said, and then cupped Dean’s face, feeling the smile there.

“But better to be safe than sorry,” you continued, as you pulled him in.

The next morning, you were getting ready to leave. You’d volunteered for coffee duty, and were just pouring some into a large thermos when Dean’s arms wrapped around you, his face going to your neck as he hugged you hard. You giggled, trying not to spill any coffee. Dean’s hands were running over you, and stopped at your belly.

“I can already imagine how sexy you'd look pregnant,” he mumbled to you.

“Jesus, Dean,” you giggled, writhing out of his hold to put the thermos on the table together with your other stuff.

“It’s 9 AM, baby,” you said with an unbelieving smile, as you turned around to him. Dean grinned.

“Well,” he said, “it’s the truth.”

Just then the Fitzgeralds, all five of them, came in, there to accompany you both to the front door.

Gertie shed a couple of tears when she finally had to let you go, and you promised that you would call her from the bunker.

She looked up at her father, sadness in her face as Garth laid his hand on her head, and said, with utmost pity: “Do you know that she has to hang out with three boys all the time?”

“That’s why it’s so important for me to have cool friends like you,” you said, leaning down to hug her one more time. “To balance out all the boy stuff.”

After Dean finally escaped Garth’s arms you were both walking down to the Impala. You put your bags in the trunk and then waved again once you were sitting in the front. You took a sip of the coffee as Dean started the car. You were quiet for a few minutes, just looking at the road.

“So was that just momentary madness last night,” you asked after a few miles, “or do you really want to have kids?” Dean looked at you sideways in that playboy way he did.

“I’m pretty sure I counted you having three momentary madnesses,” he said. In response, a loud pfff left you and you slapped his arm, making Dean laugh, but then you laid your hand on his knee.

“I was being serious,” he finally said, concentrating on the road. “Were you being serious?”

You thought for a second, looking at Dean. Imagining what he could be like with his own children. You wondered how that would change him, what it would do to him. You wanted to find out.

“I was,” you replied. Dean let his right hand drop to your one on his leg, holding it.

“Okay,” he said, “then we’ll talk about it.”

“Sounds good,” you said. He looked over at you, and letting go of your hand, waved you over with two fingers. You scooted over while he was looking at the road again, kissed him as much as it was possible with his face turned sideways. Then he held your hand again.

You turned yourself around a little, looking at the backseat.

“Do they do baby seats for Chevys?” you asked, wrinkling your brow. Dean raised his eyebrows, also briefly looking back. He inclined his head when he looked out front again.

“We can get a van,” he said, and then quickly added: “Additionally, of course. This one needs to stay around.” He patted the stirring wheel and nodded. “It’s a good car to learn how to drive in.”

What he said tugged at your heart. The idea was too lovely, too sweet.

Dean looked over, and maybe he saw that your eyes were a little misty.

He let go of your hand again, and instead laid his arm over the back of the bench. You moved closer to him, leaning against his shoulders.

“That sounds really nice,” you said, in a quiet voice, and then you were both looking ahead, at whatever was in front of you. 

[suiana]

sorry guys i think I can't write fics anymore😢💔 there's no more creative juice in me😭🙏

lol just kidding😂😂😂 imagine being a nerd that doesn't know they're a nerd. well you don't have to imagine because you are one! haha!

and you're not those nerds that are like, smart in studies okay. well, you might be but for the sake of the plot you aren't. you're a nerd interested in other things. games, fictional characters, you get the gist.

anyway you fail a class. oopsies! your lecturer is really disappointed, flabbergasted even. how could you fail his class?

it's... a beginners class...

concerned, he requests his best student to tutor you. god, what would he do if you failed the final? his pay would be TOAST. thankfully for him, his star pupil seems more than eager to help. way too eager. a little weird but he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

enter yandere! golden boy.

star pupil, handsome face, sexy 6 pack, rich, passes all exams without studying, never suffered a day in his life, fucking perfect. literally. he was a genetically engineered baby. haha test tube baby 😂

his only flaw? he's so fucking obsessed with you that it's pathetic.

now, no one knows of it obviously. he's not dumb enough to show it to everyone. who do you think he is? he needs to keep up the reputation of being perfect you know? it really comes in handy when he needs people to... turn a blind eye to some of the things he does.

anyway, it sounds pretty normal right? the premise is simple, there's a cliche. loser and popular guy, we all know how this goes. popular guy actually loves loser for who they are and he noticed loser because of a common interest, he starts tutoring them, loser develops feelings because omg hot guy treating them like a decent person, loser falls for popular guy, they get together yada yada. and I'm going to be honest, I don't have any plot twist for this one. I'm being serious when i say my creative juices are running out.

except that doesn't happen and you don't fall for him 😂🙏 haha you thought 😜👍

why would you fall for your tutor? you've only met him once or twice before the first session. and even then, your mind is 101% on whatever weird thing you're fixating on at the moment. there's no space in your head to develop a crush on real people. especially one so out of your league?

you're a realistic person, you're not going to waste time on someone you so obviously know is going to reject you.

you know that.

you're not extraordinary. you're not hot. you're not rich. you're not good at anything, nothing at all. you're just... you. plain old you. average you.

simply you.

so what if he gives you smiles? so what if he's nice? he's not perfect for nothing. in the end, he probably would never look at you if not for the fact that he had been tasked with tutoring with you.

you know that.

because you're so painfully you. so boringly you that the most interesting thing about you is what you're interested in at the moment.

the social hierarchies are there for a reason. you're aware of them.

the rich date the rich, the beautiful stay beautiful, those in power get more powerful. and the boring...

well, they stick together.

at the bottom.

where they're destined to be. where you're destined to remain. and you're okay with it. you've come to terms with it long ago. this is reality after all. there is no marrying a rich man. the rich only marry the rich. no man will fall head over heels for some fucking loser that doesn't even bother to dress up. that's just how life is.

and unfortunately, the popular guy is not aware of such hierarchies. you know he's interested in you, somewhat. not love, definitely not. just some... sick twisted fantasy of his. oh look guys i bagged the loser and made them think i actually like them haha! gonna go break their heart now!

that's what you think at least.

popular guy here knows what he wants though. he can see it ever so clearly how much you want nothing to do with him. and he's going to have so much fun showing you the lengths he'll go to devote himself to you.

you think he's too high up for you? don't worry, he'll just fall from grace. all for you. just for you. heaven is too stuffy, maybe it'll be good to have his feet bleed a little.

you don't understand, he'll go through anything to understand the fraction of the life you're experiencing. life is hard, he knows. but does he? or is he just saying that?

does it really matter though?

you think you'd rather him just bully you at this point. the way he throws everything away like it's nothing is honestly scary. and even then, you still feel a power dynamic, a hierarchy.

he still holds all the power.

rich people never truly become poor. powerful people never truly lose all their power. the top always remain at the top. always.

just give in already. resisting him is futile. you know that, he knows that, everyone knows. so why do you continue to deny him the ultimate gift that is you?

but maybe... that's why he likes you. you're different. so similar but so different. and the chase is addictive.

like a drug he can't get enough of, you're the high he keeps seeking in his monotonous life. don't you love that? don't you want it? and it's all at the expense of him too, he's constantly degrading himself all for your attention that he barely gets. you like it, don't you?

he knows you do. which is precisely why he'll keep giving it to you.

he's the golden boy after all, and he'll continue to bleed gold for the loser that shines brightest under his care. safe where he can watch over you.

forever.

[ronearoundblindly]

Codename: Agent Alpine

platonic Bucky Barnes x Alpine!Reader Steve Rogers x shapeshifter!Reader

part of Companion Animal (see previous or series)

Summary: You finally get an outfit that can transform with you between cat and human whenever you wish.

Warnings for mentions of nudity but nothing overtly sexual. Steve's got the hots for ya 😉 that's about the size of things... WC ~600

“It looks…like leather,” Steve marvels, seeing the collar turned over and over in Bucky’s hands, a blue strip with red stars.

“It looks a little obvious,” Bucky balks.

“What’d’ya want?” Tony snatches it back and starts attaching it gently—but securely—around your neck. “Plain Jane black? Nah. She deserves something special.”

“Something gaudy and on-brand,” Natasha offers helpfully. 

“Exactly…” Tony steps away from you so you have space to shift.

“Pretty sure that wasn’t a compliment,” Steve mutters before turning to you. “Would you like us to turn around? Just in case it doesn’t work quite right?”

The idea is simple: like Tony Stark’s nano suit, a coverall dress of sorts will spring from the collar when activated by your transformation. When your neck expands, so does the collar and the garment. When your neck shrinks, the clothing retracts.

At least you had the forethought to request your ‘uniform’ not be skin-tight and shiny because that may flatter Nat but would be more embarrassing than nudity for you. It’s taken so long to get good at shifting that this group has seen you naked on what might be categorized as ‘many’ occasions: Bucky the most, because you live together; Steve the least, because he’s kind enough to shut or cover his eyes; Tony and Nat…equal, because they’ve been taking the measurements, readings, and scans to build the functioning collar.

You? You try not to think about that and focus on doing a Big-Girl-Task.

The gist is that if you feel that being a human benefits you, your body turns, and if you feel being a cat benefits you, your body turns. Fear is just easier to handle in a smaller body that can go unnoticed, hide, and run away more easily, and since you were never sure that being human around Bucky wouldn’t land you out on the street or worse, you weren’t convinced it would benefit you until you needed more weight, size, and strength to take down Duplicate. Controlling those base emotions has proved difficult. You’re ready now, though, totally ready.

Steve nods in acknowledgment when you shake you head, whiskers flat against your face in determination.

This is it, the moment of truth.

So you step up onto your back paws, think about how you could reach between these two workbenchs with your human armspan, and shift.

The nano tech doesn’t feel like microscopic metal robots—it’s like real gauzy panels that drape from your neck to your ankles, a flowing dress with breezy bell sleeves, all in snow white, sheer in some places, opaque in all the right ones. In all fairness, Tony Stark does know a thing or two about fashion. You should never have doubted him.

“Hot damn, pretty lady,” Bucky cheers. “Looking good!”

Tony cocks his head to the side. “Do we think it needs a belt?”

Nat slaps his hip.

Steve, however…oh poor Steve, he’s dumbstruck with a goofy smile. The affectionate awe makes you preen, giving a quick spin in your new ensemble, the skirts wafting like you’re Marilyn Monroe except you’re not hit by a gust of wind from below. Steve seems to be.

He huffs out all the air in his lungs and forgets to inhale again. He crosses his arms over his broad chest and covers his mouth briefly, collecting his thoughts before locking eyes with you through blond lashes. Those eyes, they are dark and adoring.

“How about it, Cap?” You ask with perfect innocence.

Steve chuckles, clearing his throat and licking his lips.

“That’ll do, babygirl. That will definitely do.”

[Next Part: Lineage]

[Main Masterlist; Steve Rogers Series List; Bucky Barnes Masterlist]

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @irishhappiness @fallenxjas @ilovetaquitosmmmm @venunsgirl @fries11 @lovinglimerence @creat0r-cat @navs-bhat

@bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @stellar-solar-flare @deandreamernp

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thiquefunlover63 @bitchy-bi-trash

@supraveng @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries @veryprairieberry

[ghxstlike]

in hiding

synopsis: he finds you crying and comforts you.

featuring: dan heng & aventurine (seperate)

content: sfw. comfort, pre-established relationship, dan heng has feelings for reader, tiny bit of flirting/compliments from aventurine, aventurine is kinda awkward, social anxiety (aventurine), anxiety attack (aventurine), reader’s gender isn’t specified, not proofread.

author's note: this is super self-indulgent lol. also this is the first time i’ve ever written these characters, so i apologize if they seem ooc! this also has been buried deep within my drafts- i finished this MONTHS ago….i felt too nervous to post it 😭 anywho, enjoy!

dan heng

you're another member of the astral express crew.

you've known dan heng enough to get the gist of his distant personality, even though you find him slightly intimidating.

you still managed to develop a crush on the guy, so he can't be that intimidating.

anyway, dan heng was tasked to go and 'fetch' you (pom pom's words) so all of you could eat dinner.

you’re usually in ‘his’ room, reading a book on his makeshift bed. when he enters said room and doesn’t see you, he grows a little worried.

in fact, now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen you in days. now, he’s really worried.

the only other place that you'd be is in your room.

when he finds you in your room, his heart sinks.

intensely worried about you the moment he realizes you're crying.

type of guy to immediately jump into action. he's not aggressive about it, no, he's gentle.

softly sits beside you where you're on your bed, his hand reaching out to touch you while asking to do so.

if you say no, he obviously listens to your wishes. would not want to harm you or make you uncomfortable while you're in this state.

he sits there, watching you cry in silence. it's a little awkward, having him watch you cry, but he doesn't know what else to do. he doesn't want to ruin anything.

he says a few things to try and calm your crying down.

"let it all out."

"it's okay, you're safe."

"i'm here for you."

if you say yes, his hand comes up to rub your back gently, making you scoot closer to him. also says comforting words in this moment as well.

after you're done crying, he listens intently if you start to talk about what is bothering you.

man's just wants you to feel better.

"i'm sorry," you mumble, wiping your snot with the back of your hand. you don't see it, but dan heng shakes his head while he smiles softly at you.

"no need to apologize." his deep, monotone voice instantly calms your nerves. "crying can be helpful to some. don't worry about it." he places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair ever so slightly. you sigh, then sniffle. even though he said it was okay, you still feel a little ashamed at yourself. you almost feel embarrassed. you sort-of know what you look like while crying, and you know it isn't pretty. your heart soars with discomfort as you realize that dan heng has witnessed you at one of your lowest moments in life.

"gosh, i probably look like a mess right now." you croak out, a dry laugh following short after. you try to wipe the dried tears off your cheeks but to no avail. you'll have to wash it off with some cold water later. you hear dan heng hum, which catches your attention. your eyes look into dan heng's. you notice how dan heng's blue eyes soften at your stare.

dan heng's hand reaches out to a strand of hair that's in the way of your face, pulling it back behind your ear. you feel your face heat up, and your heart skips a beat at the intimate eye contact. you notice how dan heng’s face is in a similar predicament to yours; a light pink blush covers his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

"you don't," he whispers. "you're beautiful."

aventurine

guy doesn't know how to comfort other people.

type of person to let the person cry it out by themself, then come back later with gifts.

i've seen a headcanon where aventurine is bad at comforting other people due to his past trauma and i truly believe it.

aventurine can rarely take stuff seriously, what makes you think he can comfort someone?

anywho. he finds you curled up into a ball in an alleyway in penacony. he heard the sobs come from a mile away and was curious at what the sound was.

he honestly thought it was a stray cat.

he's seen you around before. yeah, he remembers! you walked up to him at the bar and complimented his outfit, telling him he looked like a peacock.

he thought that it was very cute when you blushed, explaining you didn't mean to say that outloud and kept apologizing.

but now here you are, sitting on the gross ground of the alleyway with your chin propped up on your knees, crying your eyes out.

aventurine bites his lip, trying to figure out if he wants to help you or just leave you alone.

but that's when you placed your hand flat on your chest, and he noticed how you began to breathe heavily.

he knows exactly what's happening, and he can't leave you alone now.

"hey, breathe. you need to breathe."

you hear a somewhat familiar voice call out to you, but it seems so far away. you don't understand what he says and try to brush it off. though, he doesn't go away. his legs are in your line of sight, and he doesn't seem to be moving. you watch as he crouches down, his hands shakily reach towards yours.

"i'm gonna touch you, okay?" he gulps, almost flinching at the skin-to-skin contact. you don't answer, you just continue to hyperventilate as your wide eyes dart across the environment around you. the man seems to notice this and blocks your field of vision with his face.

"y-you- you're-" you try to get out, but all you can manage is a few hiccupped mumbles. the man in front of you smiles.

"hi again." you can clearly hear his smooth voice now. "can you take a deep breath for me? i'll do it with you." you nod, looking into his multi-colored eyes. they're so pretty.

you follow his actions- breathe in for 4 seconds, pause for 4 seconds, breathe out for 4 seconds. you both repeat this a few more times until your breath doesn't sound choppy or uneven.

silence overcomes the two of you. your eyes glance down at your intertwined hands, then back up at the man in front of you. suddenly realizing he's still holding your hands; he quickly drops them from his grasp while clearing his throat.

"you alright?" he says softly. his eyes glance down at your body, trying to see if you're hurt anywhere. your words interrupt him.

"no, i'm fine now," you sniffle. "thank you, um.." you pause, waiting for the man to give you his name.

"aventurine. it's no problem." aventurine shrugs. he stands up quickly, holding a hand out for you to take. "now, can i get you a drink? you must be dehydrated." his gloved fingers wiggle slightly, encouraging you to take his hand.

he grins down at you, "you can also tell me why you were sobbing in the alleyway." you chuckle at his words.

without another thought, you take aventurine's hand.

[delirious-donna]

Awake At The Witching Hour [Part Four]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: You can't sleep and it seems your handsome host can't either. What is there to do in the middle of the night?

pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: NSFW, mutual masturbation (but separate, you’ll get the gist), Nanami being pent up, imaginations running wild (both Nanami and reader), cumshot, reader described as being generous and soft in body

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

The witching hour. When it is said that the veil between worlds is at its thinnest, and the power of the nefarious is at its strongest.

You weren’t entirely sure what had roused you. No sense of fear gripped your heart so you doubted it was due to some bad dream, though it had taken a moment to remember where you were.

Black velvet darkness impaired your vision at first, drowsiness adding to your inability to pick out the details of the room you were lying in. The air was pleasantly cool against your warm sleep-soaked skin. You pushed back the duvet to feel the faint breeze play across the soft squidge of your abdomen—the oversized t-shirt you wore pushed up to your chest in the disarray of a tumultuous sleep.

The events of the day unfurled in your mind’s eye like a low budget movie. It still didn’t feel real, though you well remembered the blind panic and sense of anger then irritation at being walked in on whilst bathing. No, not walked in, leapt in on. Now that you knew Nanami Kento a little better it was hard to fight the smile that rose to your lips in memory.

He seemed so different at that moment, the booming “booo” not something you would ever expect from the rigid man he had been since then. You wondered if he was a little more relaxed with his friends and loved ones. Did he even have friends?

A suspicion told you that he was the type to keep to himself, or maybe one or two close friends at most. That was relatable, and made him all the more human in your eyes. What might he be like as a boyfriend, you wondered? Attentive and loving or distant and cold? Either was possible, as well as a multitude of other attributes and combinations.

Sighing deeply, you turned onto your side and pulled the covers up to your chin now that your body had cooled from the stream of air that crept in from the ajar window. A glance at your phone told you it was late—an hour you should be asleep at—but you were annoyingly awake.

It seemed the only thing on your mind was that of the man asleep in the room next to yours. A man that didn’t want anything to do with you, a perfect stranger. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder… couldn’t help but fantantise that he could be interested. If he were to knock on your door right now, his hazel eyes, dark pools speared with lightning, and desire evident on his cheeks you would welcome him.

Did he sleep naked? The thought of all that glorious skin bare beneath covers that matched the ones you were snuggled under sent a throb directly between your legs. You were developing a second heartbeat at an alarming rate and it was all his fault. It was ridiculous how good looking he was, and what made it worse was he didn’t seem to know it. You imagined your fingers running through his neatly parted hair and knew he would look even sexier with it all mussed. The just fucked look.

He was well built and definitely strong. Biceps didn’t bulge against shirt sleeves in the way his did if you weren’t bench pressing a decent amount regularly. That and the small home gym were more than enough to know with certainty that if he meant business, you’d be in a heap of trouble. In the best way. Your mind whispered, and you felt fiery warmth fill your cheeks.

You weren’t honestly sure when your hand had begun to stray.

The peaks of your nipples rubbed against your shirt, thumb and finger tweaking the sensitive buds and rolling them deftly until your thighs pressed together at the crave for friction. It was wrong to be thinking such lewd thoughts of your generous host—unwilling as he might have started out—but you couldn’t stop. Kento’s broad frame filled your mind, the looming shadow dwarving you enough to make you feel diminutive by comparison, and equally as thrilled.

The laboured breathing of his barreled chest hard to resist, the rise and fall evidence of a man close to the limit of his restraint and you badly wanted to reach out and touch him. Wild desire radiating from his every pore like a heady musk that you inhaled greedily, longing to become entirely intoxicated by him. Who would break first in the game of lust and longing? Regardless of the answer, there would be no loser.

This was so wrong. So stupendously wrong, not to mention, futile. A veil of madness shrouded the bed and you couldn’t stop nor did you actually wish to. In the darkest part of the night your deepest desires unfolded in perfect clarity. He ticked so many boxes and left question marks in many more. An enigma that you longed to solve. A riddle that you wanted to crow over the answer when it finally revealed itself.

Nanami Kento…

Your fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your underwear, eyes widened at the searing heat you encountered. The skin of your pubic mound was warm to the touch, but as you raked through the neatly trimmed hairs and moved closer to the heart of your sex, it increased tenfold. You might have hissed if you weren’t concerned with making any noise that could alert the object of your arousal. Wetness glided over the pads of your fingertips, sticky and abundant. It spread along your plump folds engorged with blood until your tented knees butterflied outwards and you could feel the twitching urge to toy with your clit.

What would he think of this madness? A young woman intent on masturbating to the thought of him. Would he deepen that permanently etched scowl and reprimand you? And why did even the idea of that outcome spark the ends of your nerves with raw electricity?

Speaking of the man in question, he was awake. Blinking into the darkness as if the ceiling held the answer to his current dilemma. That dilemma being the tent in his tight navy boxer briefs.

Without looking, he palmed himself and manoeuvred his cock to lie flush against his thigh. There. Now it didn’t appear like he was pitching a tent that could sleep a family of four. Instead, the heat of his erection seeped into him and roused his mind all the more.

His dreams had been a jumbled black and white mess, an indicator for the state of his mind. Sleep had found him easily, but the wrinkled and twisted covers showed that it had not been a sound slumber.

Kento puffed, grumpy and aching. He couldn’t recall the last time he wrapped his palm around himself to let off some steam. It had always seemed like a poor use of his time. Opting for cold showers to numb his swollen member, focusing on getting in a rigorous albeit begrudged workout in before the commute to work.

He baulked at the realisation he hadn’t cum in nearly six months. The last time he entertained the idea of dating even further back than that. So what was different?

You. You were something different. Smiling before he could school his features into neutrality, he surmised that your presence was fucking with more than just his routine. It was you that he thought of when he adjusted himself, trying and failing not to think of your smaller fingers around his shaft.

“What is wrong with me?”

He recalled the smile you gifted him when you parted ways for the night, how your small hand had once again reached out to lightly touch his bicep in thanks for carrying your small suitcase into the room. His cock twitched in response. Groaning, he smacked the pillow next to him over his face. If he were a dog his tail would be wagging. Not just a dog, more like a mongrel.

Kento swore your scent lingered in his room. The wafts of your perfume were stronger in the bathroom and he tried to ignore the subtle sweetness even as it infused inside his nose. Right now, it seemed to have settled into his sheets and he longed to bury his nose in the high count cotton and inhale deeply. Nothing was dissuading him from lowering the band of his briefs until he stood proudly erect.

Maybe if he satisfied the urge now, the fog that clouded his judgement would clear and all would be right again. That was what he told himself while pulling back the covers to free himself. Precum dribbled from the angry slit of his cockhead, turning the near purple tip glossy and sticky.

His thumb swiped through the mess and his hips rose instinctively. Behind his shuttered eyelids he saw you approach the bed, generous hips swaying clad in the softest satin. In truth, he couldn’t give a fuck for expensive lingerie, but it was aesthetically pleasing and this was his fantasy so why not indulge? He’d be just as happy to greet you in sweats or better yet… his shirt.

Oh fuck.

The tendons in his neck strained, head thrown back whilst he pumped himself lazily at first. Would you be shy in bed? Assertive? Would you drop your jaw to let your tongue run over the seam of his balls whilst using that quick witted mouth of yours on him?

The unknown was almost more tantalising to him than the act itself. It had been so long since the experience of working someone out appealed to him. To learn their nuances and what made them tick. More specifically, your nuances and what made you tick.

With months of denying himself under his belt, it didn’t take long for Kento to feel that familiar tingle begin at the small of his back. His balls drew tight and full, and he flushed a darker red at how easily he was ready to cum. His free hand clenched into a fist, the cotton of the sheets held tightly whilst his toes curled. A guttural groan escaped his throat before he could smother it, quickly biting his lip as spurts of hot cum lashed his quivering stomach. Warm honeyed pleasure dripped in inversion from the bottom of his spine to the base of his skull until his eyes rolled over.

Kento slowed the stroke of his hand, wringing his cock of every last drop until he was close to whimpering from the sensitivity. Panting from the far too quick ejaculation, his eyebrows pinched at the mess he had made. Streaks of milky release pooled near his navel, his hand and softening cock sticky and webbed from the moment of madness. As soon as he was certain his legs would work, he trudged into the bathroom to clean up with guilt weighing heavy in his gut.

A similar sensation burned in the pit of your stomach. Your chest heaved from the release you’d found, but it came at a price and now you were paying it.

You didn’t regret your actions but there was still a guilt associated with them. You were two unattached adults, and you couldn’t deny or sweep aside your attraction to Kento any longer, but he was Karin’s brother. He should be forbidden. You wouldn’t give oxygen to the mean voice in your head that said she deserved it for not telling you about him sooner.

The little pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm were fading, fingers sticky from how you had done your best to fuck yourself before switching to manipulating your sensitive pearl until white sparked in your vision. All the while you thought of how it would look to have his head between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and your fingers tangled in his hair. Would he eat you sloppily or bite at the tender inside of your thighs? Would he welcome you rutting yourself against his mouth or would he hold your hips steady?

You sat up, legs wobbly when your feet fell to the floor. The bathroom wasn’t far and you needed to clean up and change your underwear. The reflection in the mirror over the sink looked hesitant despite the soft glow your skin exuded. A healthy dose of dopamine and the pump of blood circulating your body brightened you up even though it was the middle of the night, and you looked away with a troubled sigh.

The apartment was silent, your footsteps the only sound as you tiptoed barefoot into the kitchen for a glass of water before heading back to bed. Leaning your forehead against the cabinet, you listened to the rushing water for a moment or two longer than necessary before filling a glass and taking a sip. The sound masked the footsteps that approached, pausing then continuing on.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

A strangled scream caught fast in your throat, muffled by the water now rushing down the wrong way and making you cough and splutter. You whirled on the spot and came face to chest with the man you had spent the last half hour pleasuring yourself to the thought of.

Kento was bare chested—a fact your bulging eyes couldn’t believe—with a faint smattering of ash-coloured hairs decorating between his meaty pectorals and leading down towards his stomach. You didn’t dare follow it any further for fear of knowing whether it went right down to his happy trail, a fact that most definitely would see you moaning aloud.

A pair of pale blue pyjama trousers hid the rest of him and you were grateful for that. He stalled next to the kitchen island, an unreadable expression on his face, and were his ears red? It would be comical if you weren’t burning with mortification. Your heartbeat raced so thunderously that it was amazing he couldn’t hear it from across the room.

“I… couldn’t sleep,” you finally offered once you could breathe again without coughing.

His eyes seemed to search your features, whether for signs of lying or something else, you weren’t completely sure. At last, he nodded and walked closer to grab his own glass and fill it with water.

The silence was oppressive, thick and charged with an energy that bristled down Kento’s spine. “Do you need anything?”

Your head snapped around so fast he was surprised you didn’t give yourself whiplash. If he didn’t know any better he would say that warmth seemed to fill your face. The question was innocent but perhaps… no. He was trying to see things that weren’t there.

“An extra pillow. A thicker duvet.” He elaborated when you didn’t answer.

Having this casual conversation was excruciating enough given what he had just done to the image of you in his mind. It was made worse with the realisation that the reality of you was so much more appealing than his imagination could ever conjure.

The almost comically oversized t-shirt you wore dragged nearly to your knees, with the sleeves reaching well past your elbows. It kept your modesty intact and the mystery of it all made his mouth water. Discovering the curves of your body, which parts dipped and the soft rolls of your body would be hours of fun if he were given the chance, not that he would be. He idly wondered if you would look this good in one of his shirts before dismissing the thought, or trying to.

His cock twitched in his clean briefs and he cleared his throat and turned away, terrified of pitching another tent when one was not wanted nor needed. Kento didn’t need to think about how close you were, how all he had to do was reach out a hand and discover whether you would step away or approach. He couldn’t decide which outcome would be the better one.

“No, I don’t need a pillow or anything like that,” you said finally, though you left the sentence hanging because you did want something, but you couldn’t tell him that. “I’m just adjusting to sleeping in a new place, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, but don’t hesitate if there is something I can do to help.”

You could stop looking like a damn five course meal.

The thought was in your mind so suddenly you nearly gasped, instead, masking it by taking a long gulp of water and walking towards the hallway. You needed to put some distance between you, to retreat to the relative safety of your room and chastise yourself for being no better than a lustful bunny.

With a faux smile and an appreciative nod, you turned one last time to glance at him. “Thank you, Kento.”

Kento watched you slip out of sight, back along the darkened hallway and listened to the soft snick of your bedroom closing shut. He was throbbing, a hand drifted to his crotch to hide what was growing. That was the first time you had called him by his given name, and he liked it.

What a mess, he thought whilst returning to bed. His eyes never wavered from your door until he was safely behind his own. His guts still twisted in memory of his unsavoury actions, but something more pressing was on his mind as he screwed his eyes shut and prayed for sleep.

I want to hear my name from your lips again…

[mosoderbergh]

Have some more NSFW Emmrich

I just couldn’t keep my hands off of Emmrich’s breeding kink. Honestly? What a thought. So here’s my own little twist.

The first time, Rook very much accidentally triggers him. They’re still in their honeymoon phase, still at the lighthouse. Everyone sits at the kitchen table. Manfred’S latest shenanigans are discussed. Rook, not for the first time, calls him their “skeleton son”.

“Do you have any children, Emmrich?”, asks Davrin. “Other than Manfred, of course.”

“Ah.” It’s said with a smile, but there’s a buried sadness there. “I’m afraid it wasn’t to be, no.”

“Not yet, anyway”, Davrin chuckles.

There’s a flash of concern on Emmrich’s face. His eyes meet Rook’s, who has already come to suspect this is a sensitive subject. They swoop in to save him.

“Oh, he knows he’s welcome to try and get me pregnant whenever he wants”, they say, their voice dripping with innuendo. They take potions regularly to make sure it doesn’t happen, which Emmrich knows. Their intention is to gross the others out so much the subject gets dropped.

Lucanis chokes on his coffee. Taash boos. Davrin tells them to get a room. The conversation moves on. But Rook catches Emmrich’s glance, his face blank, eyes dark. As soon as the topic is well and truly forgotten he leans in, whispers: “A word, dearest”, his voice tense in a way that gives Rook anxiety. They excuse themselves from the table and Rook earnestly worries that they’ve offended him. They barely make it through the door to Emmrich’s library before he has Rook pinned against the nearest wall. Rook knows Emmrich as an attentive lover, giving to a fault. More often than not, Rook has to do a bit of sweet-talking before Emmrich lets his own pleasure be the focus, and wringing little sighs from him has become one of Rook’s favourite games. Right now, Emmrich is whimpering into Rook’s mouth, groping them with a neediness that renders him clumsy. Rook is more than willing to help. They are undressed within moments, and Emmrich in on them again immediately, taking just enough time to position them both against the desk for support.

It doesn’t take long before they are soaking wet, mainly because this new side of Emmrich turns them on so much they think they might just black out. Usually, Emmrich tends to lavish them with praise, and the way his voice falters in between declarations of affection when he’s losing control is the hottest thing Rook has ever heard - until tonight. Because right now, Emmrich, who usually doesn’t shut up right until the very end, is unmistakably too horny to form words. He enters them with a cry that is equal parts need and relief, as if every second leading up to their union had him in agony. Rook wraps themselves around him, cooing into his ear that yes, Maker, he feels good, this is so right, they want him so much. The one word that makes it over Emmrich’s lips is Rook’s name, uttered over and over, a moan, a whisper, a plea. Emmrich doesn’t last long, and he comes with a groan from so deep within his soul it seems entirely removed from his speaking voice.

Rook wraps their arms tight around Emmrich as he catches his breath against their neck. They can sense his mind kicking back into gear, ever overthinking.

“That”, they whisper into his ear before he can even begin to feel self-conscious about what just happened, “was amazing.”

Emmrich huffs a laugh that is muffled by Rook’s skin. He sounds incredulous. They untangle from each other, just enough for Emmrich to rest his forehead against Rook’s. His smile is somewhat sheepish, but his eyes glow with adoration.

“I truly wish I could explain”, he says.

“Oh, I think I got the gist of it”, Rook says with a grin.

The way he spoils Rook after feels almost like an apology. Rook wishes he left them with enough breath to say there’s nothing to be sorry for. Then again: They’ll have time enough to talk later.

[tenjikufag]

Duration.

Laios Touden x Tiefling!MaleReader

-continuation of PART1 **LONG PART

-typical angst warnings, read part 1 to get the gist of it all. Thanks for reading! Surprised how many people wanted a part two, I hope it meets any expectations //hides

“Laios! Hey! We need to have a plan for this!”

Chilchuck grabbed the back of the blondes shirt, trying to drag him back. Laios had become hard headed and didn’t think one bit about how to find you aside from starting to explore.

“We can ask around first! You don’t even know where you’re going!”

The half foot was exhausted, it hadn’t even been a week of you missing- they haven’t even checked the morgues or even put up missing posters of you!

“Brother, he’s right.. we need to plan something or else we may miss him..”

Falin’s hand stroked her brothers shoulder, making him stop.. he knew they were right but he wanted to find you as quick as he could.

“Marcille! You have spells to trace things right?”

The elfen girl jolted, not expecting to be called on so suddenly. She clutched Ambrosia close to her chest

“I can only trace recent tracks! He’s been gone long enough that the traces would be gone!”

Her brash response made the man frown, he guessed that was a possibility. It wasn’t his only idea but for now he would have to go through the typical missing persons route…

They checked in with their neighbours, any friends they knew that might’ve seen you, checked the morgues, asked around in taverns, consulted guilds… and nothing came up. No one had even seen you leave? He found that hard to believe!

Suddenly a dog barked, happy to see the group walk by, taking the man out of his thoughts. Falin smiled and knelt down to pet the dogs head.

“You guys seem awfully busy, harassing everyone within earshot. What’s got ya in such a mind?”

An older woman leaned forward in her rocking chair, passing a treat to Falin to feed the dog.

“Harass?! I’ll have you know-!”

Chilchuck was about to rant before Laios covered his mouth

“We are looking for someone, he’s been missing for quite some time now.”

Laios informed them, the dog barked and wiggled it’s way to the others in the group.

“Is that so? Well looks like ya found yerself just the guild for the job..”

Marcille and Falin tilted their head, before looking around the surround area of the building.

Dogs were everywhere, inside and outside of the building. It seemed there were many people involved with this and many more leaving with happy dogs in tow..

“Hunting dogs?”

“If that’s what ya wanna call these buggers. They’re also used for retrieval, search and rescue, or just a dog if ya wanted one.”

Marcille perked up, but before she could approach the woman further a hand came up from the woman

“We don’t lend these dogs to people who are gonna kill them for those goddamn roots, just s’yaknow..”

That’s right.. Marcille hadn’t really thought about the vision of an elf lurching for a dog.. and the implications..

“These dogs here are all trained, I’ve trained every single one of them. They’re reliable, if you need to find someone I’ve got just the dog for you..”

She slowly got up, whipping a cane out from under her and trudged her way into the building.

“Come on, don’t make me walk so much- I’m old can’t ya see?!”

The group apologized, Laios had a new determined look on him. What a lucky break!

The woman walked through the crowd, dogs were excited to see her but drove their attention back to the companions they were being introduced to.

“This one right here, it’s been stubborn to other training but it’s good at scent tracking. It was gonna be one of the guild dogs but it would probably be happier working.”

A large black dog sniffed the woman’s hand before circling around her and sitting. It looked quite dopey.. big and fluffy, big eyes and just a smidgen of drool coming from its mouth.

“How much?”

Laios knew they were low on funds but if this was the way to go.. and it had to be, he would sell everything he had!

“Fer this one? He’s hard headed so his price’ll be lower but name a price.”

The group quickly huddled, negotiating what was reasonable for both parties.

“We got this, and it’s all we got on us right now!”

Laios held out their singular pouch of funds..

Chilchuck couldn’t even argue, he knew the situation and didn’t have the heart to discourage the man further…

“Hm? Oh this is too much. Here, lemme take what I think is reasonable..”

The woman took the bag of coins and counted up a handful of them. Handing back the bag, it was barely any lighter than before.

“Are you sure?! You can ask for more!”

Marcille panicked, feeling bad despite not wanting to lose all of the partys money..

“Don’t question it long ears, this one doesn’t seem like it’ll let you leave without em~”

She laughed, watching the dog pounce onto Chilchuck as soon as she let the lead go. The dog was bigger than the half foot and took over him like he was a toy.

Laios smiled, nodding his head and thanking the woman.

“Just give em the scent yer lookin for and it’s gonna find them, guilds promise.”

The woman was happy, she knew the dog would be a good fit for the group and knew they were trust worthy just from the look of them.

They all split, leading the new companion through the town.

“Whatre you gonna make it smell?”

Chilchuck asked, the dog still nudging his arm for pets. Laios already knew what to give the dog..

Your underwear!

“Hah?! Don’t ya think a sock or maybe a shirt would do?!”

“I want him to smell something intimate, a smell that wouldn’t change because of different soaps.”

The group, aside from Falin, protested but once the dog was offered the scent- it completely pulled away from Chilchuck. It began sniffing around the house and seemingly followed a route that you had done before leaving. It began scratching at the closed front door, indicating the scent left the house.

“Woah, didn’t think it’d work that fast..”

Laios took the leash and let the dog drag them, it was strong in pulling on the lead. Despite its determined snout pressed on the ground it managed to evade any passerby and obstacles in its way.

“Good thing we all packed up before giving the scent..”

The dog led them outside of the town.

—

You sat at a table, surrounded by tieflings. Several towns over you’d found yourself a guild, a community of them; they were more than happy to accept you even if you weren’t one by birth..

They were kind. Accepting. Indiscriminate.

Just like Laios.

Your story was quickly shared amongst them all, many eager to hear of your life before the incident. They all held empathy towards you, trying to help you adjust to the new body and life.

“We don’t have any ways of reversing such a spell.. with no traces or idea of what it could have been.. the risks far outweigh the positives..”

An elder spoke to you, pouring tea for you. You’d expected that answer but it was hard to hear nonetheless..

“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, especially losing your mate. We can only help you cope, young one.”

Nodding, you agreed to their terms. It wasn’t anything crazy like devoting your life or anything but simply being able to contribute to the homestead- take care of yourself and be mindful of others.

That’s where you found yourself, amongst other tieflings and learning their ways to make integration easier. You figured you’d lucked out with this and wouldn’t push further.. it was better this way, right?

“You’re gonna make your horns sag with all the frowning ya do!”

A voice cackled, a new friend you’d made walked over and nudged your shoulder. Were you really frowning that much?

“Thinkin’ about him again?”

You nodded, it was obvious to everyone that you were heartbroken in more than one way, not just affected by your change.

“Why’d ya leave if you knew it’d be this hard? Wouldn’t it be easier with him, don’t ya think?”

You really weren’t sure, shrugging towards your friend; she only sighed. She was a mature tiefling, having lived for about 180 years by now so she’s had her fair share of relationships before landing herself a mate.

“Is he hateful? Do ya think he woulda kicked you out anyways?”

No, he wouldn’t. Laios wasn’t like that.. you left because you thought it was the best course of action. What had been done could not be undone, but the guilt and regret ate at you endlessly.

“No.. he was everything to me. The only one I’ll love, kind is an understatement and nowhere near strong enough to describe him..”

Tears pricked at your eyes, you were quick to wipe them away but the soft sniffles still made their way to the woman’s ears.

“Then.. why did you leave.. really? You gotta be honest with yourself.”

You left because it was what was right…. Right? How would he be able to accept you? Why would you subject him to such a horror, and how could you force yourself to watch his love for you change before your very eyes?!

“What I’m hearin is that it was selfish. I’m not gonna sugar coat it for ya love. You don’t know what he woulda said, how do ya think he’s feelin’ right now?”

It felt like cotton was stuffed in your mouth and throat, drying in realization of what you’ve done.. even in the worst case scenario you would never imagine Laios to be a horrid person, it was unfair to think that of him.

You knew he would look for you. You knew how heartbroken he must’ve been..

She was right, it was selfish.. but how could you repent for this? It was done. You were gone from his life and even if he did search for you, it wasn’t like he was going to find you.

Even if he did manage to pass through, he wouldn’t recognize you..

Pulling the hood over your head and clutching it over your ears, you sighed and listened to the woman beside you talk.

“Make sure you’re not late for dinner, sorry for the lecture. Just hate seein’ someone in pain.”

She got up and walked away, leaving you to sulk in the emotions and thoughts.

—

The party had been walking for what seemed like ages, their feet tired and bodies heavy from the week long trek. The dog seemed to have no issue, even trying to forego breaks and sleeping at night!

Sitting at the top of a large hill that overlooked a quaint town, they decided they’d set up camp before traversing the rough terrain below them.

Their dog barked and whined, pulling at the lead Laios tied to a strong tree.

“How does it even breathe with its nose pressed on the ground?”

Chilchuck grimaced, wiping the dogs face of the dirt as Falin readied a bowl of food and water for it.

“It’s a working dog, it probably expects a big reward for finishing its task.”

She smiled, putting down the bowls and watching the dog hesitate before scarfing it down.

“Wish I was that motivated for a damn snack..”

Falin lightly laughed at the man’s words, sitting down beside her brother as he looked over the town in thought.

Laios wasn’t his usual self, he was quiet and almost pensive the whole journey. Everyone had expected some sort of change but this made them uneasy to say the least- he was even more determined than the dog! It was only when the group lectured him (and the dog) that he needed to rest did he relent somewhat.

Pulling out a map, he crossed out another town that they’d just passed through without a sign of you.

“What’s the next town? I hope there’s an inn..”

The elf sighed wistfully, dreaming of a warm bed and a good bath. She looked over the blondes shoulder, seeing where he was reading

“The next town is —! There should be an inn.. and since we didn’t spend all too much getting here we could probably stay there..”

Chilchuck felt himself pale..

“Isn’t that the place with the huge tiefling guild?”

Marcille perked up, double checking the area and the name

“Yes! It is! Oh we should stop there-“

“For what?!”

“They have all sorts of magic that I’ve not been able to study for.. reasons but it will be a great opportunity for my dungeon research!”

Laios furrowed his brows. Tieflings? He’s never seen one in person and never really thought about them..

“Tieflings? What magic would they have?”

Before Marcille could inform him, Chilchuck piped up immediately

“Do you really not know?! They’re all necromancers!”

Marcille smacked the half-foots head,

“They are not! Many are just normal in their magic practices- dead magic is strictly forbidden amongst almost all guilds!”

The two of them argued, Laios was fascinated nonetheless but he still ended up thinking about you.. if you died would he be able to ask them for help?

“Just because the only known Tieflings were necromancers and created the magic doesn’t make them all one! That’s ignorant to say!”

“That’s all I need to know!”

The two of them went at it for quite some time, until eventually cooling off and walking away from eachother.

After eating, they drew straws for nightwatch. Even if they were in safe territories and could sleep peacefully without being ransacked or attacked by monsters; somebody needed to keep the dog occupied. It truly was a stubborn dog.

Laios took the first watch. He sat down by the dog, running his fingers through the soft fur on its back.

Why would you leave? With the quiet and just him alone.. tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn’t understand it.. what exactly happened? What could have been so bad that you’d leave him with nothing but a letter? It worried him sick aside from being absolutely heartbroken..

The dog quieted down, laying its head on his lap and staring up at him in hopes to comfort him.. he smiled softly and wiped away his tears.

He had always wanted to get a dog with you, growing up with them he absolutely adored them and in his perfect vision of your future it would be you, him, Falin, and a dog or two. It hurt that he only got a dog in these circumstances.

—

The town was already busy, even with it just passing the morning sunrise there were people scurrying between shops, door chimes filled the air, and loud chattering busied the groups thoughts.

Their dog started barking.

It began to pull harshly on the lead, wheezing as it practically choked itself of air. The barks weren’t the typical “let’s go!” But more of a viscous sound, like an alert.

“Dog doesn’t like tieflings, eh?”

Laios looked over, seeing a man chuckling lightly at the dog.

“It’s typical from what I’ve heard, somethin’ about the devils sets them off.”

Marcille rolled her eyes, beckoning the male to move along. It was odd behaviour he had to admit but would dogs really have an innate ability to dislike a group like that? He wasn’t all too sure..

The deeper they got into the city, they started to see them.

Long ears, tails, pointed teeth, horns..

Some had typical skin tones, others were grey, red, and other washed out pale colours but stood out nonetheless.. chilchuck slotted himself in the middle of everyone as if he was walking between three protective walls. Marcille on the other hand seemed giddy, already chatting up a storm with a pair that sat outside..

The others had noticed they’d ended up right infront of the tiefling guild, before Chilchuck could protest anything, the dog started to howl.

It made the new friends Marcille found herself, flinch and excuse themselves.

“Hey! Quiet down..”

Laios spoke down to the dog, trying to keep it close to him but it continued to stand on its hind legs to howl and cry. He apologized profusely to the people who moved away, not really sure what he could do to calm the dog.

The guild buildings front door opened and a hooded figure came out, quick to turn away and walk the way they faced. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something made him gravitate towards the person.

Something about the build and way they walked looked familiar but he dismissed it.. but

The dog got loose.

It had jumped and flipped itself around just right to slip out of its collar- the group stood in shock for a moment before screaming and running after the dog.

—

“There’s a dog outside, I’d avoid it if ya can. Can’t say it would do anythin’ but some people train their dogs to attack us.”

You were warned, pulling your hood up over your head. What a weird thing to do.. but you heard the dog and commotion outside, even seeing two of the other residents come in and complain about the dog.

“-and we were having such a good chat with a cute elf girl!”

Elf? Elves weren’t common to see around these parts from what you’d gathered, never seeing one in the time you’ve been here despite seeing essentially all other groups of people.

Patting yourself down, you said a quick goodbye to the head member.

Slinking out of the door, you saw the dog in the corner of your eye and made way to avoid it. Preoccupied with your thoughts and list of what you had to do, you didn’t hear the people behind you start to holler about a loose dog.

That’s when you felt a bite on your tail.

Pain curled up your spine before you whipped around and saw the dog, it then jumped on you and placed its front paws on your abdomen trying to stop you.

“Go on! Get!”

It only gave a dopey head tilt to you before howling.

“Ah! I’m so sorry! It slipped out of its collar and-“

It was Laios.

The two of you made eye contact, ignoring the dog happily circling around you and sitting down proudly- giving one more bark of “I found you!”..

It was like a standoff, you felt the blood drain from your face and stomach start to churn as his gaze shook while looking at you.

“Y/n? Is.. is that you?”

Your throat felt dry, no words coming but your mouth was left slightly agape.. he found you. How did he find you? You took a quick glance behind him and saw Chilchuck, Marcille, and Falin.

They’d all come for you?

The feeling in your chest dropped like a bad of sand and you spun around and took off, much to the protests of Laios who quickly left the dog with his friends and told them to wait.

You ran around the corner, quick on your feet to escape a confrontation.

He wasn’t supposed to find you! Yeah he could have searched and looked for as long as he wanted but you never expected him to find you!

“Y/n! Wait!”

Air was leaving your lungs quickly, you needed to find an escape but with a final turn you found yourself at a dead end in an alleyway.

“Dammit!”

The sound of Laios skidding on his feet behind you made sure to let you know that you were caught.

A feeling of dread filled every cavity in your body, anxious vibrations and chattering in your teeth while his steps got closer.

“Don’t come any closer!”

You hunched over yourself, pulling your hood down further to cover your ears and face.

“So.. it is you?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I said no.. would you?”

Laios felt his heart break, the cracking in your voice and the way your body shook broke him inside; he’d never seen you this distraught.. he scanned over your cowering figure, first noticing the tail that tucked itself under your legs and the faint silhouette of horns on top of your head.. but he smiled softly to himself.

It was you, and you were still alive.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, flinching away and trying to get up and run but he caught you quickly. Wrapping you in his arms tightly despite you thrashing and trying to get out of his grip.

“Let me go! Please! I don’t want you to see me like this!”

He listened to you sob and scream, letting you scratch his skin and almost tears his clothes; all he could focus on was the warmth he held from you, the familiar sensation of you in his arms calmed his once ever growing nerves even in such a moment.

You were in his arms, breathing and safe. That’s all he knew and all he needed for now.

“Laios Touden! Let me go!”

“No, not until you tell me why you left.”

You stopped thrashing around at his words.. with your lax body he hugged you properly and rubbed his face into your shoulder. The tears wetting your cape and shoulder.

“Did you.. did you leave because you wanted to?”

Your breathe hitched, of course not. You never intended to leave him but.. the change..

“I left because I..”

Sighing softly, you tried to pull away again but his grip only tightened with his own soft shaky breathe.

“Can you let me go for just a moment? I won’t run..”

He hesitated, his arms tensing and he squeezed you before he reluctantly pulled away but kept himself close to you.

Reaching up, you raised your head and took off the hood.

Laios’ eyes widened, looking at your horns first, seeing the way your ears had changed and the other new features you’d gained..

“This. This is why I left.. I can’t imagine that you’d still love me-“

“But you’re still.. you, right?”

He grabbed your hands into his, inspecting the long claw like nails.. lacing his fingers with his own with a soft smile on his lips.

You were still you, nothing inside had changed.. it was all exterior as far as you knew. Biting your lip, the tip of one of your canines peeked out and tears welled in your eyes.

“I don’t know.. why are you looking at me like that?”

Laios had seemed like he was hyper focused and already in his own world.. he was still Laios.. you weren’t sure if it was curious disgust or if he was still surprised to see you like this..

“Laios..? Stop gawking at me! Please say something!”

“Can you uh, can you open your mouth?”

Blinking, you went to speak but before words could come up he already had a hand pushing softly on your upper lip.

“Fangs? That’s.. hot!”

You blushed, pulling your face away from his hand. Why wasn’t he saying anything else about you leaving?!

“What are you saying?! Aren’t you scared?! Disgusted? Just tell me what you feel so I can leave! So you can carry on with your life!”

He flinched, not used to you screaming at him.

“What do you mean?”

His puppy eyes watered, hurt that you’d scream at him and a familiar guilt burned at you.

“What do I mean?! Look at me! I left you, don’t you feel any hatred towards me?!”

He shook his head, once again grabbing both your hands in his.

“I could never hate you. I came looking for you because I love you and don’t want to continue without you.”

The man’s voice wavered, a realization seemingly hit him.

“.. do you hate me?”

He suddenly dropped your hands, for once during the whole interaction he took a step back. Without any thought you quickly wrapped your arms around him to keep him from going further.

“No! I don’t hate you! It’s because of me changing that I left and I just thought that you’d be better off without me like this!”

His tight grip on your waist returned, he leaned his forehead on yours.

“I could never be any better off without you. Never.”

You watched his lip quiver, his eyes shut but you saw tears appearing on his lashes..

“I’m.. I’m sorry. I’m sorry Laios..”

He breathed in, opening his eyes to look into yours.

“Is it okay if I kiss you? Or.. do you still want me to leave you alone.. are you happier here?”

Your heart thrummed in your chest, you planted your lips on his and the two of you desperately exchanged kisses. A bite at your lip made you open your mouth and he took claim immediately, you felt him lick along your new fangs. Pushing onto him he backed away and let you explore his mouth, nipping at his lip and leaving a faint scratch- just enough to draw blood. He winced and you pulled away.

He was flushed red, a faint dot of blood on his lips.

“Are you okay?”

Poking out his tongue, he licked the blood off his lip with a smile.

“Never better… come home with me, Y/n”

You wanted to cry.

He still wanted you, despite everything he still travelled and searched for you- the same love in his eyes from all those years still vibrant and glowing. You nodded, before the two of you left the dead end he gave you a much needed confirming hug. Making sure to nuzzle himself into your neck, feeling your skin against his was a much needed relief.. he was happy.

Laios would never think any less of you, his view of you would never change- so long as you allowed him to be, he would be by your side. He hoped it would be forever.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Beauty in Innocence

Fred Weasley x reader

Requested by: @amathilofgondor

Request gist: Fred Weasley dating an adorable and innocent reader but he craves to destroy her in bed. He doesn't know how to present the idea of rough sex since they have only just started getting sexual.

A/N: Thanks for the request! For this fic, I didn't know whether you wanted the reader to be a virgin or not so I went for she’s not a virgin but still pretty innocent to things like different kinks and any sex that isn't vanilla. I also went down the route of the reader wanting Fred to teach her what he likes, that sort of thing. Also, in this fic the wizarding community have televisions and electronic devices. I've mentioned a pornographic video which will be in apostrophes.

T/W: Fred is a bit of a sex pest, brief mention of a Daddy kink, Fred maybe being a bit dark and dirty, attempted groping?, intense pornographic videos? (mentions of BDSM, pinching and spanking), Fred kinda uses her innocence to talk dirty (not like an insult but a bit mocking), nicknames, rough sex, mentions of corruption, unprotected sex, no aftercare (not a ‘Fred being mean’ thing)

Fred's girlfriend. The girl who surprised all of Fred’s friends when they first met her.

Fred was a dirty devil. He always had a crude joke or quip. At bars and clubs, he was always the first one to chat up any girl he saw. Poor George suffered the most (even giving him a silencing charm after having to hear a girl call him ‘Daddy’ through the walls of their shared flat).

And then there was you. Fred’s dirty quips had your cheeks red with blush. His dirty jokes had you squirming as if you'd never heard such a lewd joke before. Like an angel whose ears had never heard the likes of Fred Weasley.

Don't get me wrong, Fred’s friends and family adored the sweet girl on Fred’s arm just as much as he did. But Fred more than adored you.

He desired you.

The way you were so innocent drove him mad. The way you'd bat your eyelashes when he made a dirty remark, like a confused baby deer. He even loved how innocent you were during movie nights. He was driving himself mad.

A part of him felt guilty for wanting more. He didn't want you to think it was because you weren't enough. The truth was, Fred is insatiable. Even the tiniest moan from your lips had him as hard as stone. He kept thinking about your first time together. It was the opposite of what Fred was used to. It was…sweet. Filled with soft kisses and a loving embrace while he slowly pushed into you. As much as he loved those tender moments, he craved to hold you down and fuck that pussy that got so wet for him. He needed to hear those needy sounds you'd make.

He’d run out of patience. Everytime he tried to approach the conversations, he’d freeze up. One idea he had was when you were both cuddling on the sofa. His hands slowly moved from your waist. His lips brushed along the skin of your neck, his hand stroking your inner thigh. Your soft whines and squirms made him think that you weren't ready for what he wanted to do to you, causing his hands to slowly retreat.

Little did he know that you were curious about his blatantly obvious attempt at a conversation and wandering hands. You'd heard things from his friends about how sexually active he seemed to be prior to you and it made you curious about the sort of things that he was into. You wanted him to be the one to teach you, to show you this world of sexual depravity that he knew so well. Maybe it was a primal nagging in your head or just the desire for him to be happy in every aspect of your relationship.

Fred’s last ditch attempt to express his desires included the one thing he knew best: pornography. With his laptop in hand, he approached you in the bedroom.

“Hey love, I want to show you something, see what you think”

He put the laptop in front of you, showing a black screen. But when he pressed play, it was far beyond anything you ever expected him to show you.

‘The woman in the video was tied down to a bed, her arms to the headboard and her legs spread. With the woman blindfolded and naked, another pair of hands appeared from off screen. The hands pinched and slapped the woman's inner thigh, getting closer and closer to her twitching pussy’.

Fred kept his eyes on your reaction, watching how your cheeks got darker and your breathing got heavier, only things that he would notice within seconds. He figured that if he couldn't tell you what he wanted, he’d show you.

‘The hand’s trailed higher, spanking the woman's clit, making her jolt and yelp’.

Fred heard the breath you sucked in, his hopes rising that you'll enjoy it.

‘A man came into frame, getting between the womens open thighs. Teasing his tip through her folds, he thrusted his cock into the hilt. His hips were like pistons, not stopping for a second. No matter how much the woman moaned and squirmed, he kept fucking her now dripping hole’.

You looked up at Fred. At first, he was worried you’d ask him to turn it off or tell him that it looked too rough and harmful. But he swore he heard angels sing when that normally innocent, sweet voice asked the most heavenly words he’d ever heard.

“Can we try something like that?”

Fred’s grin practically doubled in size, his arms snaked around your waist. He kissed the shell of your ear before whispering softly.

“My sweet girl wants me to do something so dirty to her?”

The needy “Yes” you replied with made his heart beat faster. This was confirmation to take you like he needed, to ravage you, to break you down and rebuild you with little pieces of himself woven in. He closed the laptop and moved it to the nightstand before laying you down. He crawled up your body, stalking like a predator. His hands trailed up your outer thighs, pushing your nightie up to your abdomen.

His thumb found the seat of your underwear, smearing the wet patch that had formed.

“And here I thought my girl was innocent. You liked watching that dirty video, baby? Your wet little cunt seemed to enjoy it.”

Every slight buck of your hips, every whimper, every moan. He absorbed it all, watching with beady eyes as if he'd never see something so beautiful again.

Your pouty voice caught him off guard.

“Please Freddie, more”

And who was he to deny?

Ripping your underwear down your legs, he pushed your thighs open. All that restraint, all that time of treating you like a porcelain doll, was gone for a minute, leaving pure need and lust. He stared at your open pussy like an animal who had finally found the source of a delectable scent. He had to stop himself from salivating at such a perfect sight.

His hands moved to pull his cock out, leaving you with a mental message to keep your thighs open for him. He lined his cock up and stopped for a moment, looking up at you. It was like his demeanour shifted for a split second.

“If you need me to stop pretty girl, just tell me”

You gave him a usual sweet smile and a nod, finding it heartwarming that he was still a sweetheart even in such an intimate moment.

He slowly pushed in, bottoming out and taking a minute to bask in your warmth surrounding him. When his hips started moving, he set a pace that you weren't used to. It was faster, his hips slapping against yours. The band in your stomach felt like it was tightening faster than usual.

“How can such a sweet girl be so dirty? Maybe i've corrupted you, angel”

His dirty words were new to your ears, but they caused you to clench around him. They only drove you closer and closer to a feeling you didn't know you craved so much. His hand came down to rub your clit in messy circles, and that's all it took.

Your moans filled the room and your walls pulsated around him, cumming harder than you had before. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, staving off his own orgasm. Your body trembled beneath him, arms reaching for his comfort, which he gave without a second thought.

Fred wasn't going to last much longer, so he pulled out and used his hand, stroking himself at the same pace he had fucked you. Spurts of his cum painted your stomach until he was spent. He laid himself down next to you after wiping your stomach clean, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He stroked your arm, keeping his eyes on your face for any signs of discomfort. You turned to lay on your side, snuggling into him.

“Can we do that again soon, Freddie?”

His corrupted angel was full of surprises.

[junedenim]

a funny thing

part one

books & boys

warnings: the whole shebang, fluff, smut, and stuff, just read it, you perv

word count: 10k

He was a restless boy. His leg had been unstoppably bouncing for weeks, enough that his mum raised concern that he might have come down with a mad case of restless leg syndrome, but all her concerns were alleviated when she looked over his shoulder to see him texting away.

miss u

rly?

ofc

u 2

She can’t quite discern all the texting lingo, but she gets the gist based on who is on the other end. Alex had been a closed book on the topic of girls since girls transitioned for ew to fit. So, when he returned from school last winter with a big smile and a transformation into Chatty Cathy about a girl, it wasn't just a girl.

In July, when paid a visit by this girl, Alex’s cheek seemed a permanent red and he was deeply embarrassed by his mother at every turn. His mum backed up, but it’ll only prompt his father to pinch his cheeks and turn him back into a treatment that had not been seen since Alex’s infancy. You only seemed to laugh at this and said things like, “Now you know what it feels like,” leaving it to be assumed your parents gave similar treatment to you when Alex visited you in June.

In the month between your departure and the term’s start, Alex had been nearly unbearable, which left Penny praying for the start to come quicker so they all wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. She would feel horrible over this, except for the fact that Alex was doing the same thing. His dad would tease him by saying, “Less than 10 days left!” Alex would flush in embarrassment over this teasing, but clearly had his own mental countdown occurring.

*

It’s slightly pathetic to wait outside someone’s door. He knows that, hands in his pocket, feet pacing the hallway, but he waits because he is pathetic for you, and he’ll own up to that. He doesn’t mind it. He just thanks god no one is here to see it. The mere thought of you is enough to pass the time while he waits outside your dorm door, simply replaying the thought of you. You were supposed to meet here 15 minutes ago, but you’re late, which is slightly worrying considering you’re Little Miss On Time.

Another pair of shoes hit the carpeted floor. He looks up at you, completely casual, bag slung over your shoulder, and your hair a few inches shorter than when he last saw you. “Sorry, I’m late. You’ve been rubbing off on me,” you say.

He doesn’t care. He isn’t punctual like that and he’s just happy to see you. That’s all that matters to him at this moment. It’s like tunnel vision, a kind he wouldn’t mind indelibly having. “Oh, I’ll rub off on you.” You in those little shorts and that stupid shirt you picked up from a charity shop with the periodic table on it that’s missing oxygen. You two laughed about it for days because how do you miss oxygen???

“You can rub off by yourself all you’d like.” You throw an arm around him, yanking him to you. A clueless onlooker might consider it an assault, you shoving your body into his.

Especially when he shouts, “Ow! You’re banging up me head.” He scratched up the back of his hair with a pulling fist. He looks down at you as if you’re sitting in his little T-shirt pocket. A healthy little grin sprouts on his face. “Hi.”

You tip your head back, occupied by a grin. “Hi. How are you?”

He tosses his head from one shoulder to the other. “Alright.” His hand cups your hip bone, pulling it to his. “At least now.” First, your hips kiss, then he bends down and lets himself be the first to do the honours of welcoming you back. And if this kiss is the welcoming committee, a buzz goes through him, imagining what the rest of the year could be like. 

“We should probably just go inside if that’s how we’re gonna act,” you suggest.

Sure, your room is right there with a bed just waiting to be acted on, but… “I thought we were going to get donuts.” 

You exaggerate a sigh. “The plight of men everywhere. Sex or food?” You take a hand, leading him on a lease to the outside world.

“Not just any food, donuts. Aren’t you hungry?” He feels like a child again, except you are playing the role of his mother, who was forced to give in to his needs for a special treat so he wouldn’t be crying through the shops. He feels bad that he hasn’t quite aged out of this in the decade since, but he’s hoping by the end of university, he can consider himself an adult, or more aptly a man, instead of a boy.

You shrug. He’s staring at your back, shoulders moving, spine curving, butt included. “Yes, but I thought you seemed pretty desperate back there.”

“Well, sure,” he agrees. “But I had to wait sooooooo long, my stomach is grumbling away.”

You shake your head as you push the door, opening the sun to your skin, and he likes the look of it here too, forgets how good you can look when the sun hits you right. Your skin is slightly tanner. He’s still pale as ever, embarrassingly so. All in all, things feel the same, you feel the same, except you’re now with him.

*

For the first night back, right before classes start, everyone gets the idea to go out together. He’s fine with this because, despite how much he missed you, he missed his friends too. However, he didn’t plan to stay here this long with a need for relief in more… areas… than one. You make it worse and he thinks you know it, but you tend to get pretty oblivious when drunk.

It’s a hectic little fit. The evening is dark, this club is dark, and that’s not just from the sunglasses that seem permanently glued to his face, a habit he’s started ever since a RA caught him high at the end of last year. It also shields his eyes from his obvious staring at your hips swaying on beat. It might seem quite pervy to the unknowing eye, a boy staring from the couch as a girl dances, but he doesn’t think he comes across as a leering old man and you’re, well, you are sort of a smoke show and he’s a sunglass-wearing guy with a hard-on watching you, so, yes, it is quite pervy, but permissive pervy-ness.

He shields himself with his glass like a localised cold shower to his schlong. He stares at the ice in it until he doesn’t feel like he’s about to rip a hole through his jeans. 

“The key is to go have a wank in the bathroom,” Matthew teases. Alex snaps a harsh look over at him, which is, of course, mitigated by the fact that he has large black shields over his eyes, which are also stoned as hell. “And maybe stop staring at the girl’s ass.”

“Fuck off,” Alex curses.

Matt simply chuckles in response. “Or is this some game between you two? She got a cock cage on you.”

“You’re awfully concerned with my dick.”

Matt pats him on the back. “I’m just looking out for you, mate. Wouldn’t want you losing the thing.”

“Like you did?”

He shakes his head and stands up. “I’m gonna go get my beak wetted now. Good luck with yours, Al.” 

“I know a few hookers who can help you out with that!” Alex shouts out at his disappearing figure. Matt waves him off as his body evaporates into the crowd of people.

“Do you, now?”

“Shit!” He clutches his chest. You stand behind the couch with your arms crossed, getting a kick out of both teasing him and frightening him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

You giggle, rounding the couch until you’re sitting next to him. “I’m sorry your perception skills have been cut in half. I did tell you not to smoke so much.”

“I didn’t!” He insists.

You hum a note of disbelief and cover an arm around him, hugging his tiny frame to yours. “Now, where did you get to know these hookers?”

His lips curl up with confusion. “Huh?”

You shake your head. “Never mind.”

“Hey,” he says, shelving his head on your shoulder. “Missed you. Did you miss me?”

“Yeah.” You smile at him, nudging your nose against his. “I’ve already told you.”

“Tell me again. It makes me feel…I don’t know. I don’t even know what it makes me feel, but I like it.”

You kiss him, locking him to you. He’s the most precious thing. Maybe it’s a side effect of young love or maybe it’s a simple fact with his hair completely roughed up from his fingers running through it, with his inability to keep still and his cold hand on your warm, bare thigh. “I missed you very much, Alex.”

He leans back, crossing his arms like a smug little boy getting his way. “Good.”

You roll your eyes because it’s the only way to deal with him when he’s like this. “I’m glad.” You pat his hand and stand up.

“Where are you going?” He whines. “Stay.” He desperately tugs on your hand.

“I have other people to see but you.”

“But are they going to treat you like I’m gonna treat you?”

You pat his cheek. “I’ll call you a hooker to keep you company.”

“Can’t you be my hooker?”

“How much?”

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet with a handful of bills. You snatch them out of his hand with a shake of your head at the total amount of them. “I’m not made out of money, woman.”

“Woman?”

“Madam.”

“I’ll see you in a little, Al.”

He leans his head back against the couch with a complete sense of exhaustion. Why did I pick donuts over fucking her? Oh, a donut sounds really good right now. But she took all my money. There’s got to be some food in here. His stomach miserably rumbles. Fucking hell I’m starved.

*

“Hello!” You crash into him, the liquor in his glass slightly spilling, not that either of you notices it. You adjust yourself onto his lap and curl your arms around his neck, tightening a hold on him akin to a death grip. “Where have you been?”

His mouth chews in response. He holds up the bag of Doritos he found. 

“Oh, Cool Ranch.” You reach for the bag eagerly too but he snatches it away from your grasp. “Hey! What happened to sharing is caring?”

He pouts. “You stole all my money.” 

“How did you get these then?”

He plucks another one, savouring it on his tongue. “Took them from the cupboard.”

You eye him closely. “Stole them from the cupboard.”

“Tomayto, tomahto.”

“Will you let me be an accomplice to your crime?” You pull the sunglasses down to look him directly in his eyes. “Please.”

He sighs exhaustively. “Fine.”

Your face is flushed red with sweat on your temples. He could lick it like a lime after a shot, and he does, a toss-up between hornyness or inebriation. “Don’t act like I won’t be paying you back.” You grind your hips into his.

He grabs your waist. “Don’t be cruel.”

You lock your arms around his neck, pushing closer, your breasts smashing up against his chest. “Oh, you’ll be fine.”

He pushes you back in an attempt to regain control of his airway. “Police officers should use you instead of handcuffs.”

“I am quite known for my domineering power.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you now?” He can’t help but feel eager to once again witness this domineering power.

“Yes,” you sigh, leaning backward until he has to hold onto to make sure you don’t fall backward off his lap onto the cement floors. Quickly, you snap back up, eye to eye with him. “But you already know this.”

He hums. “Shall we?”

You slap his chest. “No, Alex, we have to stay until they do the limbo.”

“The limbo?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes! They do a limbo challenge at midnight every night.”

He’s pretty sure you’ve just made this up, but, sure, why not witness you fail miserably at doing the limbo. “Fine. Then, let me take you to the bathroom.”

“No, not after the shower incident last year.”

“I’m more well-trained this time.”

“Trained enough not to do it.”

“I thought you were going to make it up to me.” He sulks like a sucker, an idiot, or some other variation of the debilitation. 

You move off, flipping to lie beside him. “With the privacy of a locked door.”

“I’m sure these doors lock.”

You stand, walking away from him. “You can enjoy it yourself then.”

“Why is everyone talking about me having a wank tonight?”

*

It was raining on the way home, which put an extra eagerness on getting to shelter as soon as possible. Upon getting inside, in the close vicinity of a bed, it becomes a newfound eagerness to get all clothes off as soon as possible because they were soaked wet, of course. It then became necessary to get your bodies pushed up against one another for warmth. “Pneumonia is a killer way to start the year,” Alex says with his mouth muffled against your neck.

The whole charade of the rain making it a requirement for you to have sex with one another ends there, mostly because there isn’t much reason for Alex to stick his penis inside you because of the rain and it’s hard to say much when Alex’s penis is inside you. Though you are very warm, as he claims, thrusting in and out slowly.

It’s not the best fuck of your life because you’re drunk and he’s high making his movements lethargic and you’re a little too numb to the sensation from the alcohol. It’s like your body is cut in half and your brain can’t quite communicate with your lower half, but that part comes and he seems to do the same at a speed that makes him hide in your neck.

“Sorry, it was so quick. I’ll work harder next time,” he says earnestly. The time away from one another has him slipping under a shadow of insecurity as if you have to reacquaint yourselves with one another. Deep down, hidden in the back of his mind for no one but himself to see, he has the fear of you finding someone else along the way. 

You comb your fingers through the back of his head, a slight pull on the longer strands of hair. “I liked it,” you say. “The part of me I can still feel did at least.”

He chuckles into your collarbone, relieving that knot in the center of you. “Plenty of time, plenty of time,” he amends.

“It’s okay,” you whisper into his ear. “I missed you.”

Alex lifts his head, a slow smile on his face for you. “Yeah?” You nod quickly. “Missed you too.” He lands a soft kiss on your cheek.

“But you can’t stay here, you know that,” you break the fantasy.

“Why not?” He whines, already tired out from the idea of walking to his dorm.

You pinch his nose irritatingly until he pulls your hand away. “Because you have an early class tomorrow and I don’t and you’ll wake me up with the alarm or oversleep and you can’t start the term like that and you have no clothes here other than the dirty wet ones on the floor that stink of weed.”

He clicks his tongue repeatedly at you. “Excuses, excuses, excuses.” He noisily exhales, hoisting himself up, and swinging his legs off the side of the small bed. “You’re gonna make me go out in that.” He points to the window where a slight beating of rain is coming down.

“You had no problem making it back here. You’re only a few minutes away and you can borrow my brolly.” You stand up, searching for the umbrella.

He loudly groans. “Now you’re gonna flaunt your naked body in front of me. What a cruel person you are.”

“Don’t be such a baby. You already got to play with it once tonight,” you tease.

“Only once!” He complains. “Why do you get to hang out with it all the time?”

You toss a puzzled look his way as you dig through your bin of things. “You mean, why do I get to be with my own body? Are you trying to tell me something, Al?”

“That I’m horny,” he moans.

You roll your eyes. “Put some clothes on.”

“Same to you.”

You retrieve the umbrella. “Touché.” 

Despite his complaints, he begins pulling his damp clothes on with only a few whimpers. “I can’t wait until a year from now when we won’t have to kick one another out.”

“What do you mean?” You question as you pull a shirt on.

He cheekily grins, fixing the wet cloth of his shirt onto his torso. You can't help but ache and think of that Pablo Neruda quote, I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. He’s just so argh. It’s terrorizing.

“When we’re living together, dear.” He makes a point of tenderly placing a peck on your lips and quickly making his way to the door.

“Al!” You call out, but he shuts the door behind him, leaving you with only a quick flash of his smile. 

*

You wait for him by attempting to read a book, but your mind struggles too much to focus on it, not even bothering to stare at the pages, instead the cafe’s front door. He’s late, of course, only by a few minutes, but you’ve already been here for fifteen minutes, hopelessly waiting for him. Again, on you, not him. You’re the steadfast loser whose eyes light up every time you hear the bell of the door ring.

Then, when he walks in with a slow gait and a peaceful smile, you feel you could slide under the covers of him and hibernate for the whole year inside him. He raises his hand with a wave. He waves like a politician, the dorky kind, not the dickhead kind. You tried to look like you’re reading while he waits in line, but you keep looking back to stare at him.

Finally, when he walks over with his signature donut and a coffee, you happily close the unread book. “Don’t let me keep you from…” he bends his head nearly upside-down to read the title of the book. “​​A Companion to British Art: 1600 to the Present. Riveting.”

“Don’t mock me.”

He slides into the chair across from you. “I’m not mocking you. I’m serious. I’m excited to hear you tell me about it.”

“I’m afraid ancient modernity might go over your head,” you tease.

He opens his mouth in ersatz offense. “Who’s mocking who now? Tell me about it.”

You blush in embarrassment and hide behind your cup of coffee. “I haven’t read it yet.”

He rests his head on his hand. “Read it to me then.”

“I don’t want to bore you.”

“Shush. Read.”

Thus, the distraction becomes the solution as you read him far too many pages with the tiniest text size on ancient modernity in British art, but he listens intently, educating himself for those future geeky flashcards. 

Later, once you’ve made it through the chapter, you ask him, “How was your first class? Curricular Integration.”

He smiles at you, remembering before frowning at the reminder of the class. “Fucking boring.”

You laugh at his frustrated expression. “It was the first class. Those are always boring.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I kind of feel like it’s not for me.”

“It’s only been one class, Al, you’ll be okay. I can help you, you know, if you ever need a tutor.” You try to flirt to cheer him up.

It sneaks a half-grin onto his face before the discouragement returns. “Thanks, but it’s not that. I’m just feeling a little lost. It’s not a big deal. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why do you feel lost?” You ask, placing your hand over his, stroking your thumb on the back of it.

He turns away, motioning the topic away. “It’s just one class,” he excuses. “Let’s talk about something else. Please.”

You nod. The words nervously rise up, asking, “What was that thing you were talking about last night?”

“Oh.” A grin quickly spreads across his face. “Living together? Yeah. I mean, it’s a logical conclusion.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that so?”

He chuckles at your surprise, taking a sip of his coffee. “Duh.”

“Duh,” you impersonate. 

“C’mon. Did you think we’d be living in tiny bedrooms for the rest of uni?”

“Well, no,” you keep your eyes on the napkin you’re ripping up to distract your nerves, “but you’re so sure of it.”

He leans forward. “Like you’re gonna say no.”

“When did you become so confident? Last night, you were so timid.”

“Timid. I know I was slow but I wouldn’t call myself timid.”

You snort a laugh. “You know what I mean, but it’s not like we know each other that well.”

“What do you mean?”

“You barely know me. I could be an axe murderer or you could be. Naive girls fall for that kind of stuff all the time.”

He makes a pointed look. “I wouldn’t call you naive.”

“Besides the point. It’s a risky thing to share something like that.”

He finds this to be a ridiculous argument. You can tell by the look on his face. “It’s an apartment. Not a child or stocks or something.”

“We’ve been together for less than a year and I don’t want to flat-on my ass with nowhere to live next year.”

“I’d move in with Matt before I let you be homeless.”

“You’re very sure of this.”

“I’m just sure of myself with you. Everything else can feel like a mess sometimes that if I start to question this then I might lose it completely. You make sense to me.”

You look over dreamily at him, half-sure you created him in a hyper-delusional state of mind. “You know how to wow a girl.”

“Oh, yeah,” he jests, “I’m teaching a class on it.”

You place a foot between his ankles. “Really? Can I be your TA?”

“It might not be highly advisable for me to be sleeping with my TA, but you’d look good with a ruler in your hand.”

You giggle, slotting your knee between his knees, on the edge of your seat. “What’s it with you in these dominatrix fantasies? Watching too much porn while we were away from one another?”

He won’t be fazed, leaning back in his chair. “I like you in any position.”

You loudly shush him, terrified of eavesdroppers. “I have Rhetorical Theory. You can’t be trying anything at this hour.” You stand, gathering your things.

“But another hour I can?” His head bends back, eyes following your movements.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” You bend down to him to kiss his lips like you’ve done this thousands of times, and you might have at this point. You squeeze his shoulder and disappear out the cafe’s door, only bells left ringing in your wake, one on the door and the one inside of Alex.

*

On Wednesdays, you two share a class with one another, specially picked out for the purpose. American Literature in the 20th Century. Alex dragged his feet on it until he heard there would be Nabokov short stories and a delectable treat with batting eyelashes and lips that taste so sweet.

You closely clutch the syllabus as you exit the hall together. “And we get to read Franny & Zooey! I love Franny & Zooey!” You shake the paper between your hands in unadulterated excitement.

He taps your back with a chuckle. “Okay, maybe don’t rip the paper in half.”

“Why? You nearly wet yourself when she said we’d be reading Nabokov.”

“Nabokov’s cool.”

“And Salinger isn’t?”

“No, Faulkner isn’t.”

“Right, Faulkner,” you say. “It’ll broaden our knowledge.”

“You and this broadening of knowledge. Can’t I broaden my knowledge by reading something I can actually understand?”

“You’ll understand Faulkner. You’re a lot smarter than you let yourself believe.”

“I think you might be confusing me with someone else. Is this your other boyfriend?”

You pinch his side to get a laugh out of him. “Jealousy isn’t a nice look on you.”

“I’m not jealous,” he mumbles.

You wrap your arm around his back and curl your hand against his body, tugging him closer. You might as well take up a sideshow career as Siamese twins. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He tilts his head until his cheerful smile is facing you directly. “I’m not,” he insists. “And if I were, it would only be a little because this guy gets to spend time with you.”

“We barely talk when we’re together, and when we do, it’s me lecturing him.”

“Isn’t that what we pretty much do?” He reasons.

“He’s much dumber than you.”

“Well, we can’t all have our smarts to fall back on.”

“And our looks,” you compliment with your mouth so close to his skin, the air you let out dances against his jaw.

“What a charmer you are. Do you talk to everyone this way?” His eyes look down like he’s trying perilously to take you all in at once. “Or just the boys you fancy?”

You roll your eyes. “Ha ha,” you exaggerate before mouthing against his ear, “just one boy.”

“Young Joe’s a lucky man.” That’s the boy. Joe.

You sock him in the arm. “I can’t help it if you’ve a teacher kink, you pervert.”

He adjusts his bag to knock shoulders with you as you now walk side-by-side. “If they all looked like you, everyone would have a teacher kink. Hence, young Joseph.”

“He’s only a year younger than us.”

“Is that so? An older woman.”

You huff a laugh as Alex holds the door open for the dining hall. “Weren’t you the one who had a crush on your professor last year? I should be concerned with an older woman coming in to sweep up a young man.”

He rejoins your side, saying, “I simply said she was good looking, not that I wanted to do her. I was fargone on you by that point.”

You hum in a disbelieving fashion. “So you say.”

“Yeah. Just like Junior Joe is. It doesn’t take much.”

“Junior Joe?” You question. “You’re getting very creative with these nicknames for a boy you’ve never met.”

“I know Joey’s kind.”

You infectiously giggle with him. “Are you pretending to be in an old western again?”

He shrugs with a sheepish grin. “We’re watching The Searchers in my film class.”

“Aw,” you coo, pulling at his cheek like an old granny. “You should consider an acting class. It might help you get all that unaddressed rage out.”

“Rage?”

“They’ll at least train you in stage combat, which will help you for duel against Joe, which will, of course, also be your final exam.”

“When you tutor him, do you wrestle in preparation for this final exam?” Alex quips.

You pick up your tray of dinner. “Yes, and we’re usually naked, wet, and oiled up.”

“Really?” He follows behind you like an obedient pup. “Can I sit in on these lessons? I could really use your assistance.”

“But wouldn’t that ruin the integrity of the sport? You would be spying on him.”

“Wouldn’t you be spying on him for me? Or are you going to flip on me? Double agent.”

You sigh. “Not quite yet, but if he throws any other money my way, I can’t make any promises.”

*

Just as you had taken up tutoring, Alex obtains a job at one of the campus pubs. The best decision the owners of this pub ever made was letting their employees dress in casual attire. It allows Alex to roam the place in his perfectly fitted T-shirts that expose the lower plain of his torso every time he grabs something on one of the taller shelves.

The place itself is a proper hangout spot, allowing you to chill with friends while watching him in the distance or, on slow weekday nights, share a basket of leftover chips with him. On one night, this particular night, his jeans hang loosely on his hips and a navy blue long-sleeved shirt as the cold autumn air creeps its way into every corner of your world. He leans on the bar with the chips sitting between you and other than a gathering of teachers in the corner, the place has grown empty in the late hour.

“He’s too buddy-buddy. He keeps asking me for high fives,” you complain about your British Art professor. “I get that it’s to facilitate a relationship, poorly, I might add, because the guy doesn’t even know my name. I’m sure of this.”

Alex chews and chuckles. “Did you know the high five wasn’t invented until 1977?”

“Shut up, really?” This is clearly a method of distraction, something you won’t pick up on until later.

He hums, taking another chip. “LA Dodgers.”

“Baseball, right?”

“Very good. I’ll add a baseball class to my roster.”

“You barely know anything about baseball. Have you ever even seen a game?”

He counters, “Have you?”

“Fair enough.”

“Besides, what’s there to know—”

“Excuse me!” A group of girls has come in, with one girl violently waving her hand to get Alex’s attention. 

He pulls away, attending to them, while you play Lode Runner on your phone with patience. The group is rather large and noisy, ruining the former environment that felt like a cozy fireplace and turning it into an inferno with each drink they gulp down.

“I should go,” you tell Alex when he returns.

“Sorry about them.”

You shake your head, admiring his charming, solemn face. “Nonsense. You better get some good tips.”

He smirks. “I don’t think you’d like that.”

You button up your jacket. “Don’t become some cheating bastard. I’d have to write my name on your forehead.”

“I don’t know. That blonde one looks rather nice.”

You eye the girl, slinging a purse over your shoulder. “One bleach away from her hair falling out. How lovely.”

He chuckles, leaning over the bar for a kiss. “I’ll see you later.” A quick liplock before you once again leave one another.

*

His hands grow icy on the way to the dorm, enough that he can’t feel the tip of his fingers. The air is windy; it causes his nose to exhibit a biting red that you told him last winter reminded you of Frosty the Snowman. He rubs it and his running nostrils when he finally enters the radiator-heated building, the kind that emits the terrible rusty smell. 

He makes it into your room where your sleeping figure lies, shucking his too-thin jacket, and lying down beside—half beside you, half on top of you, considering how small a twin bed is. You murmur an awakening sound, turning to give more space to him.

“Why do they call it a twin if it only fits one person?” He whispers into your ear.

“Because they used to be sold in pairs,” you answer, curling your arms around his neck.

“How’d you know that?” He asks.

“Grandparents.” 

You hiss from the contact of his hands on the hollow of your hip. “Sorry,” he softly purrs.

“It’s okay,” you grumble back. “How was the rest of your shift?”

“Alright. Girls were bad tippers.”

You nuzzle your nose into his neck. “‘m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” His hands run up and down your cloth-covered back, both to soothe and to warm.

You raise your head, blinking your eyes, dazedly looking at him. “Do you want a tip?” You ask, nudging what’s between his legs.

He gives a shake of his head and rests you back into him. “No. I just want to lay like this. You’re warm.”

You giggle against his skin. “See what dressing properly gets ya.”

“Fine, fine, fine.” He taps along your skin as he says each word. “Can I stay over tonight?”

“You beat any blanket, babe. Couldn’t have you leave me even if you tried.”

And he thinks this is the kind of thing romance novels are made of. Though, he wouldn’t know, he’s only read Wuthering Heights, which is “totally not a romance” as you repeatedly state at any given chance.

*

The moors are under a crust of snow—not enough to blanket them in white, but a mean, dirty frosting on the hard earth and wilted shrubs. It was early November but the snow came on so harshly that when the first sign of it had occurred, classes had quickly been cancelled for the day, despite half the school’s attendance rushing outside to engage in squabbles of snowball fights and dip their backs into snow angels. 

You sling a scarf around Alex’s bare neck in spite of his protests. You slip on mittens, knitted by his mother. They were sent in this month’s care package, one pair for Alex, one pair for you. You palm his already red cheeks in your hand. “Can’t we stay in?” He whines.

“Everyone else is going out. Don’t be such a loner.”

“I’m not. I just want to be with you and everyone is going to be at the pub tonight.”

“But you’ll be working.”

“Exactly. A convenient excuse to exit any conversation.” He enthusiastically smiles so wide his face might split in two.

You sigh and head for the door. “We have to go and after we can warm up in the shower before you have to go to work.”

“We?” You peek back to see his wide, gratifying smile.

“Yes, we. Now, let’s go.” You tug on his hand and make your way out to the frigid, homely world.

Alex complains about being cold every other sentence before everyone gets sick of it and decides to simply pelt snowballs at him to at least get pleasure in the grumbling, but then Alex keeps insisting on going inside, which you won’t agree to until everyone else decides to disband so Alex quickly hardens and suffocates everyone else in snow, including poor, old you.

“You could’ve at least spared me, the woman you love, the one you want to sleep with. I could’ve gotten a nosebleed or needed stitches.” You pull your snow-covered hat off as you reenter your room. You strip your heavy clothes into the laundry basket, hoping to spare the rest of your room from a wet, melting disaster.

“Poor old baby,” he teases.

You gasp. “Don’t ‘poor old baby’ me! That’s my line, you’re the whiny little brat.”

He tosses his scarf at you before turning on his heels. “I’ll see you in the showers, baby.”

And if he’s going to try and goad you, then you’ll just wait here in your room, under the warm covers, while he impatiently waits in the shower for a gift that won’t be given. Upon his return—with his hair planted to the skin like a wet old dog—you’re on the phone with Holly. You don’t need to be on the phone with Holly, in fact, she’s grown rather annoying, but there’s nothing quite like Alex getting all pent up.

He has one goal in mind: release. He shivers from water still dripping down his body, even as he covers himself with sweats and a hoodie. (Sweats and a hoodie!! He’s good. Too good.) He fiddles with the zipper, pulling it all the way up and all the way down several times, enjoying the percussion of its sound, before settling the slider right below the collar and placing his hands in the pockets.

He stands by the foot of the bed. He might be tapping his foot, but you can’t see the lower half of him. Your eyes acknowledge his presence before tipping them to the ceiling, admiring the cracks in them. “Who are you on the phone with?” He harshly whispers at a level that could be deemed no longer a whisper, other than the fact that he has made his voice more raspy.

The only acceptable answer would be your parents, some important family news that’s worth blowing off giving him a blowjob in the shower. And yeah, maybe a blowjob only involves his desire, but he suffered through the snow, and that’s the only thing he deems worthy enough of giving him a runny nose. “Holly,” you shortly answer.

“Holly?!”

“Yeah.” You don’t spare him a glance. It’s easy to predict the puzzled look on his face, worthy of giving a slap followed by a soul-sucking kiss.

You feel his weight enter the bed. His body rubbing against your legs as he crawls his way up you. “Get off the phone.”

You place your finger over your lips. “No, it’s just Alex,” you irritably say to the phone.

He heaves and takes the phone from your fingers. “She’ll call you back, Holly.”

“That’s very rude,” you say right away.

He straddles your hips. “You left me hanging.”

“I got distracted.” You slyly smile.

He furrows his brows and leans down, hovering his face right above yours. “By Holly? Nice try. You don’t have to be mean to me.”

Your arms hug around him, taking in his body heat. “Yeah, but then you wouldn’t be all cute and crawl in my lap like this.”

He breaks, hiding a chuckle into his shoulder. “You’re very conniving.”

You shrug. “A wise woman. A genius, if you will.”

“Alright, you witch, do I get the pleasure of going into your hut?” He leans down, hiding under the blankets.

His nose tickles your stomach, making you giggle out, “Not if you start speaking like that.”

The laughter hides away as he pulls on the waistband of your sweats, taking them and your underwear down in one pull. He’s a smart man, going straight for the jugular. Mouth meets vagina. His tongue colors within the lines, or maybe outside the lines, because it’s hard to believe other people have felt this pleasure and considered it not worthy of discussion every day, or consider it taboo. This can’t be taboo. Why don’t people have classes on this?

“You should teach a class on how to do this,” you moan out, clawing your fingers into his hair, yanking, combing, petting, stroking, soothing.

He places a kiss just right and speaks against you, “As long as you’re my TA.”

“Quit it with this kink,” you quip. “You’re gonna be one of those pervert professors who fucks their student.”

“You? Hell fucking yes.”

“Quit it. We’re the same age.”

“I’m very advanced.” He reinforces this succinctly, placing his mouth where it should be biologically attached, sucking, licking, kissing, spitting, tonguing. He’s an unwillful beast and a delicate angel wrapped in the body of a boy who loves you. You could kick your feet at the idea if your legs weren’t too busy shaking at the feeling of this uncontrollable vibration. 

You go from pushing his face inward like you’re trying to do some reverse birth with him and shove him back into the womb to dragging him away because he’s too much. Too much all the time but really too much when he sucks at you like the elixir of life is hidden within the folds of your vulva.

He hangs around with his chin atop your pubic bone watching your lungs expand and deflate heavily before deciding it has been enough, flipping over, squishing beside you, and declaring, “My turn.” He even helps you out by untying his sweats, but not taking them off because that’s “a woman’s job.” Something he sexistly and sexily declared last month.

“So much for patience.”

Alex points at himself. “I’ve been patient, in fact, I have shown an intense amount of restraint. I’ve made a down payment and now I’m waiting for my return of investment.”

“Jeez, Warren Buffet, you really know how to make a woman feel special.” You roll yourself up because despite his chauvinism, he’s been patient, and he is very, very…

You brush your hand over the fabric of his sweats and his eyes flutter at the mere suggestion of his dick being touched. You would tease him, but you only find his sensitivity endearing. You won’t hold him up anymore, exposing him, just this little portion of him to keep the rest of his sensitive skin warm from this snapping air.

You spit in your hand and give him a few slow tugs. His hips lift and shift. His thighs push against your still exposed center. His knee slides right into it, causing a slight trembling in your motions. It’s hard to tell whether this act was intentional or not. His expression too lost in pleasure, eyes shut, mouth pursed tightly together to fight off the urge to groan.

You slowly lean down. Your lips circle his cock with your tongue sweeping over the head, forcing that groan to leave his mouth in a tiny little mewl. You smile and go lower, halfway down, and then go back out. When you stop halfway again, his hands hold you there, pressing just a little further. 

When you pop back out, he says, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rough.”

“You weren’t rough,” you assure. “I liked it.”

His eyes open up darkly. “Good. Go on.”

You shake your head, roll your eyes, and go on. You move lower each time with delight, toe-curling delight. His legs move up and down, not kicking, more digging, heels pressed down into the mattress, and his knee shifting pleasingly at your sensitive bits.

You’re not sure how good at giving head you are. You’ve never received any feedback other than the grateful conclusion of any person: coming. Alex always does this, making a noise almost like he’s so painfully frustrated like there is a splinter in his finger and then a blissful breath as the pest is removed. His cum doesn’t have much of a taste. Maybe a little salty, but that could be sweat. He often sweats, a little gathering right around his pubic hair, but no complaints from either party.

After he has returned to this biosphere, he tucks himself in and hugs you to his chest. “I wish all snow days were like this.”

“I don’t think it would’ve been appropriate—”

“I know,” he cuts you off. “Don’t make some creepy underage sex joke. That’s my territory.”

You ease into his body with your nose poking behind his ear before settling with an exhale. “You’re very possessive lately.”

“I’ve never been called a sharer. Too controlling for that.”

“Obsessive, some may call it.”

He lets out a hollow laugh, his lips not even poking his cheeks. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You okay?”

His fingers brush your upper arm. He doesn’t say anything for a minute before letting out, “Yeah.” Then, sighing. “Just thinking about winter. The break and all. Being away from you.”

“You’ll live.”

“But I won’t want to,” he bemoans.

“Don’t be dramatic, Romeo. I’m only faking my death. No need to kill yourself.”

He stills a laugh, and with that, the year ends, pulled away by two omnipotent hands.

*

He gets allergies in spring, the terrible, terrible kind where he sneezes all the time and has to carry tissues with him. Those dorky little packs, but you keep an extra pack in your purse in an act of devotion. He theorises in his journal (yeah, he has a dorky little journal too, fuck off) that there’s no greater act of love than carrying tissues around for someone else. It’s a great signal of caring for another person, looking out for their well-being, their forgetfulness, their sickness, their health. It’s what wedding vows are made of, and he sounds insane, 20, and clinging to an eternal loving debt to you. 

The days have formed in a lather, rinse, repeat fashion. There’s class, work ( still tutoring for you, the pub for him), and some form of hangout. Sometimes just the two of you, either keeping him company at the pub, sex, or an activity—dinner, “studying,” movie, or, his favourite, the arcade, which may sound geeky and nerdy, but you’re both saving up for Margaritaville light-up ice bucket and that’s not dorky. 

Other times, it’s a whole group thing, drunk idiot nonsense, which also includes collecting tickets for the Margaritaville light-up ice bucket that could likely be purchased for less money than what the arcade is selling it for, but you consider it to be a rare luxury only afforded to the stupidest “adults” roaming the UK.

On a Saturday night, a group of you sneak beers into the arcade, and play Jet-Pong, an appropriated version of beer pong for children. You ask Alex, “How can they have beer pong in here and not beer?” as he sinks one pong into the far left corner. “Nothing promotes drinking like a fun game.”

He shrugs, missing the next one.

“Holly asked me about getting a place with her next year.”

“Oh.” He tries his best to focus on the game in front of him. “What’d you say?”

“I’d get back to her.” You pull from your bagged beer. “Since we hadn’t talked about it since the start of the year. I didn’t know if you had made other plans.”

“My offer still stands.” Last pong, center cup. The tickets spit out. “I can always room with Matt.”

“Do you want to room with Matt?”

He bends down to collect the fifteen tickets. “Do I want to room with that dirty bastard or you? I’ll get back to you on that one.” He passes you to go to the ticket counter.

You catch up to his side. “Well, I’d like that too. You and me, I mean.”

“You feel you know me adequately enough?” He asks you as he feeds his bucket of tickets into the machine.

You lean against the side of the machine to be right in his line of sight. He eyes you carefully. “I feel I love you adequately enough.”

He blows a laugh like it’s a sick joke being played. He takes his ticket from the machine and stuffs it for safekeeping into his wallet. Once everything is packed away, he turns to you and reaches his hand out. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.” You take his hand, entering the thawing weather, making your way back to the dorms. “Is this the cold shoulder?”

“No,” he says, giving your hand a squeeze. “I’m just trying to think of something to say.”

“What about ‘Yes!’?” You offer.

He cracks a grin and leans over, kissing your cheek. “You’re very cute. It shouldn’t be allowed.”

“I can’t help my feminine wiles.”

“Yeah right. I know how cunny you can be.”

“You like my cunningness.” You make eyes at him, luring him into your web. “So, Alex, what is your answer?”

He has to take a moment to capture this in his mind. This happens every once in a while, usually pertaining to you, but not limited to circumstances associated with you. It’s a click in his head. It might be a camera, but he hasn’t decided yet. It’s his brain having to catch up with the rest of him. It’s a processing issue that might be a sign of a larger problem, but at this point in his life, Alex merely relates it with moments of importance. This, you, the moment are all more than worthy enough. “It’s yes, you dweeb. Now give me a swing of that.”

*

He finds you curled up in his bed with a book laying facedown on your chest. You haven’t been asleep too long. He can tell because you always end up turning on your stomach and your book hasn’t fallen down onto the floor below. He begins to pry the book out of your hands, you grab his wrist in a frightful fit, scaring him half-to-death. 

“It’s just me,” he whispers. You relax back into the substandard mattress, slept on by hundreds of students before him and hundreds more after him. “How’d you get in here?”

“I have my ways,” you sneakily say. 

He chuckles, closing the book, and placing it on his desk. He sits down in the desk chair, untying the laces of his Converses, placing them beside yours at the door. “Am I going to wake up tomorrow with all my stuff gone?”

You sleepily giggle. “I’d never steal from you. You don’t have anything worth stealing.”

He cocks his head back, testing a challenged look on you. “What about the girl in my bed?”

“Oh, well, she’s different.”

“Uh-huh.” He strips his jacket off then his jeans before he races on top of you causing you to groan loudly.

“God, you’re gonna break one of my ribs.”

He kisses all around your face, tracing the other corners before bubbling in the circle. “They’re nothing valuable anyway.”

“Really? What about the rest of me?”

“Oh, you’d sell well on the black market.”

The laughter slowly dissolves into a heated make-out session. He takes his time. It’s hard for boys to do that, including him, in this tiny bed, trying to get it over quickly so you don’t have to sit on top of one another in a suffocating fashion. “Won’t it be great when we can do this in a bigger bed. Even a full would do.”

“We are not sleeping in a full. Queen, at least,” you insist.

“I’d get a California king, no complaints.” 

The making out resumes, this time a little more naked, and then his fingers inside you like he’s scooping your insides out. He’d liken it to taking all the guts out of a pumpkin, which is admittedly a disgusting comparison, but he can’t think of anything else. He isn’t a sexologist, just a boy who’d like to think he knows his way around you. “Does that feel good?” He asks against your lips.

“Yes,” you whimper out. So, he keeps going like he’s pushing a button or strumming the strings of a guitar. You lean your quivering body into his, exhibiting startled breathing into his ear. Your hands clutch around your shoulder, reassuring him of the previous form of affirmation you gave and then he feels that familiar throbbing around his fingers and you let out a grunt of finality before all the tension furling up inside you is released in one shake.

He lays you down against the mattress. Your hair pressed up in a nest against the pillow. “Do you want to keep going?” He asks, implying future steps: him inside you, preferably with his cock, preferably said cock fucking you, preferably to completion. 

“Yeah.” You smile up at him with this smile that he’ll try for many months after to find an adjective that fits this smile before giving up and deciding a person would have to see it to believe the beauty of it. Like a wonder of the ancient world or the harmonium solo in “In My Life.” It feels like that, searing. “Please do.”

It’s a natural inclination. He feels like his soul is being sucked away as he eases into you and lands his hands on your torso in a careful touch. His thumbs stroke your stomach and his fingers pull your skin to his as he settles all the way in. His eyes look at you, speaking for him, asking if it would be okay to keep going, that everything feels good, that this isn’t just for him, this is a shared act. You nod all-knowingly.

It’s how Alex knows this is different. This is love, not everyone can read him at a glance. It’s the beauty of letting someone know all of you. It’s the thing that makes poets write sonnets. It’s what makes ordinary people feel they can write sonnets.

The feeling shifts to his gut, getting tangled up in the center, moving about him in that somersaulting way. A flickering flame in a deep, dark cave. He feels this when he masturbates too, but that’s more lonely, and this is like kilonova or the initial singularity (sorry, he’s reading Carl Sagan right now), and the universe is inflating but hasn’t banged or boomed or whatever the word is yet.

He moves a little quicker in order to get to that bang, but still not what one would perceive as fast. He likes it this way. It’s out of the ordinary but not some wild origami-style sex that is cool to watch but he is so not ready to do yet, or maybe ever because it looks like too much work and it feels good like this and he isn’t ready to mess with a good thing by folding you in half.

His mind tends to drift a lot when he’s having sex. Or all the time. Sometimes he wishes he would just shut up, but occasionally he’s thankful for his fair-weather mind, like during boring lectures or long shifts at the pub. But in situations like this where he should just focus on the simple feeling of sex his mind wanders to Carl Sagan and he’s shouting at himself like “Fucking hell, Alex, just shut the fuck up.”

Of course, you can tell when he does this and then he can tell that you can tell and then he’s stuck on that, that previous feeling of being exposed then feels violating because what gives you the right to know that in his head he’s screaming at himself and then you say something like, “Keep going.” and he realises he is once again reading too much into situations and you’re probably just enjoying the feeling of being fucked or maybe also screaming at yourself in your head too because you’re the same after all or Siamese twins or some shit and he returns to the thought that this fucking feels really fucking good and he’s said the word “fuck” too many fucking times to count and fuck is a weird word, but so is every word, and what is the English language, and why didn’t his mum teach him German like all the students she fucking teaches, instead he only knows how to count to 20 and the colours of the rainbow and other stupid fucking elementary phrases.

And then he comes as he so often does. Cum is disgusting. White, slimy jizz dripping out of him and into a condom. Who invented the condom? He’ll write that down in the back of his mind and try to remember to look it up later, but then everyone in the library will think he’s a pervert for looking up who invented a condom on the communal computers. He should’ve asked for a computer for his birthday. Not that he would use it much, computer screens hurt his eyes and give him a headache, but he sure would help when he wants to look up the inventor of condoms or watch porn or something. And school, that too.

“Alex.” Fuck, right, you. “Can you, um, get out of me? I’ve got to pee.”

“Oh, fuck, sorry.”

You giggle. “You’re okay.” You cradle his face and he feels like a bobblehead that has been shaking around for hours and now suddenly stilled. You kiss his cheek. “I’ll be right back.” You slip on your clothes and shoes and head to the hallway bathroom.

He sits for a while before realising he has been sitting naked with his cock resting in his own jizz wrapped in latex for far too long to be seen as normal if he were to be walked in on. He disposes of the goods and digs into his drawers for his, well, drawers. Isn’t it funny that two words can mean totally different things? And the word for that is…—he struggles on this for a while—homonym, right, right, right.

His stomach rumbles. There were no leftovers at the pub tonight. It was crawling with disgustingly drunk people that make Alex question why alcohol is legal if it makes people into such dickheads. He only has a bag of sour cream & onion chips, and that’ll have to do the job of dinner.

He sits at his desk and grabs handfuls out of the bag, having to truly stuff his face because that is how hungry he is. He understands why the Donner Party ate each other. He looks at the book that you were reading, now sitting next to his journal. He realises he didn’t put a bookmark into the page you were on. He’ll have to remember to apologise for that. He already knows you’ll say it’s fine and you can find the page you left off on, but he’s convinced you’ll be hiding your indignation toward him.

Madame Bovary. He’ll have to pick up a copy. All he knows is Emma Bovary is “a cunt and we love her.” You said this yesterday at the cafe. You were only a few chapters in then. It seems to have gotten much further since based on the thickness of the book’s split when he picked it up. 

She cheats, too, Emma Bovary. Maybe that’s a good thing in the book. Like her husband is scum and thank god she was able to find love elsewhere or something. He doesn’t know. Now all he can think about is paranoia about whether you are cheating on him or not. Not you actually cheating, just the paranoia he would feel if you actually did cheat. 

He is aware that he’s giving himself ulcers over this heavy contemplation of nothingness but he can’t stop the turning of the wheel. His mind goes on and on and he’s still trying to figure out ways to make this train of thought stop. Like someone tied to the track while the train blows the horn instead of slamming on the brakes. He tugs and tugs but can’t free himself and he’s only making things harder rather than accepting his—

“Hey.” You’ve returned, thank god. “You’ll never guess what I saw in the bathroom.” You hop on the bed with the glee of those monkeys jumping on the bed in that nursery rhyme.

“What?” He chucks his head in anticipatory elation. 

“There were eggs all over the floor and I exclaimed something like ‘Ew!’ because, you know, eggs on the bathroom floor is a little bizarre, right?” He’s nodding along. “But then these two girls answered back, saying they were doing an experiment. I asked what kind of experiment and they were like ‘The science kind’ and I said ‘No, shit’ but in my head. When I came out of the stall, they were like ‘Try not to step on the eggs on the way out’ and that’s when I cracked—ha ha, get it, cracked.”

Yeah, he gets it, and he fucking loves this. This is all he needs. He cracks along with you. “Keep going.”

“Right. Sorry. Sorry. So, then I said, ‘Why would I want to step in eggs?’ As if it’s a well-known thing that egg yolk moisturises your skin. Then, I left and came here and had to tell you.”

“Thanks for telling me,” he sincerely says. “I needed it.”

You give a thoughtful smile. “I could tell.”

He doesn’t ask how. He doesn’t feel he is supposed to know. You don’t explain any further. You sit criss-cross on his bed and he remains in his desk chair for now. Of course, he is sure that at some point you’ll both get under the covers and go to sleep, but you’ll just talk for now because he needs it, and you could tell.

*

a/n: can you tell when i started to like what i was writing? i like the smut in this. maybe because i usually hate the smut i write so this feels like an improvement. it's been a while. maybe i'll do a part three. maybe in a week or four months. thanks. night from me, morning to you.

[sttoru]

hmmm what if gym sex with gym owner/instructor toji fushiguro. you know, they be fucking by machines and stuff 🫨🫨🫨

𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 . . . !

⟣ sypnosis. you thought it’d be just another day of you at the gym with your gym instructor, toji—though things were quick to escalate into a different kind of ‘workout’.

⟣ tags. gym instructor!toji fushiguro x female reader. exhibitionism, public, p in v unprotected, standing doggy ig, spanking, hair pulling, teasing, sprinkle of objectification / degradation, creampie, no to little aftercare, kinda pervert!toji as well. reader gets called ‘doll’.

⟣ note. yummyyumyummm.. this made me think of this ask t sent me & this fanart i need him so bad t_t not proofread btw. !

you were a newbie to the gym—your usual workouts consisting of the most simple sets; jumping jacks, burpees, crunches, squats, planks and push ups. an acquaintance of yours attends the same sports club and recommended you a certain gym instructor who works there most of the time.

his name was toji and apparently was good enough at his job for many other gym attendees to hire him in. you did the same and had started a few sessions with him earlier that week. toji was patient and quick to give you the needed feedback and advice on your workouts — a nice guy.

though, he did seem a bit intimidating, especially due to the fact that he was extremely bulky. your stomach did a flip once you first saw that dark-haired man.

the black tank top he wore almost every other day, his muscles that flex with each movement, the scent of his cologne you could smell whenever he got close and nonchalantly adjusted or corrected your form; that guy was more than simply attractive.

as your mind wandered and daydreamt about your gym instructor, your body was doing its needed squats. up and then down, inhale and exhale, tense and relax—you were on autopilot.

what you didn’t notice, due to the music blasting in your ears, was that toji had been wandering around the area. it was almost time for your own session with him where he’d do some cardio with you.

toji sipped on his water bottle, lazily approaching you from behind, your backside towards him. he looked around for a bit—this specific section of the gym was nearly empty at this hour of the day. except for you, him and. . . a random guy who was lifting weights in a far away corner.

toji’s eyes couldn’t help but flicker from your exposed shoulder blades to the curve of your ass whenever you squatted. it was very much intentional; not for the sake of checking on your squatting form, but more for the sake of his own needs.

it was like that almost every time he’s training with you—the gym instructor cannot resist the urges of subtly checking out that body of yours. more specifically, the curves of it. he could get a bit handsy when teaching you how to get the gist of a certain exercise.

you were a bit oblivious to this, because you thought that it was simply just toji doing his job. gym instructors were meant to help you along the way—instructing somebody and helping them get into the desired position by appropriately touching their body was part of that process. . . right?

you don’t know, but you also didn’t care. his touch on your thighs when he was correcting your form that other day, the way his big and veiny hands were gently holding your flesh; it was just way too appealing. even if he was doing his job, there was an undeniable attraction hanging between the two of you.

you couldn’t even count the many times where you ‘accidentally’ bumped into him at the gym just to hold a short conversation. toji’s eyes were everywhere—the sight of you out of breath, sweating whilst trying your best to look pretty when talking to him stirred his loins.

the dark-haired man knew you purposefully come and talk to him after each session. he knew that you always try to look confused in the gym when experimenting with a new machine just to catch his attention. toji knew all about your ‘innocent’ acts and yet he was falling for them. hard.

you were too good at that game of seduction and if it wasn’t for him risking the loss of his job, he’d have fucked you long ago. he’d have satisfied both your desires right at the gym with everyone seeing—he craved for a taste of you. he needed it. sooner or later.

so, toji took his chance. ‘it was now or never,’ he told himself as he approached you from behind. his presence was only sensed by you when his hands came in touch with your body.

one hand pressed onto your lower back slightly, the other on your upper thigh, fingertips digging onto the fat to help it slightly backwards, pushing your hips towards him—

“how many times do i have to tell ya, hm?” toji’s raspy voice whispers in your ear, his figure looming over yours making you feel caged between him and the treadmill you were facing whilst squatting, “arch your lower back just a tad bit more, push y’r hips back properly—mhm, jus’ like that. good, very good.”

you surprisingly do as told even whilst you were caught off guard by toji’s sudden appearance. your heart was beating out of your chest by the proximity of your bodies like this; your palms were getting sweaty. and not from your workout.

“y’re definitely gettin’ the hang of it.” your gym instructor comments, a faint hint of pride in his tone. he retracts his hands from your body, however not before teasingly letting his fingertips brush against the bottom of your ass, feeling up its shape in that single second of contact— “how’s your workout been today?”

you knew that touch was intentional. there’s no other explanation to the lingering stare on your ass as well. his eyes shamelessly took in your thighs and hips as if he wanted to be all over them, to touch them like he’d longed for so long.

“good. was about to take a break.” you reply. truth was, you weren’t. you only said so since toji was chatting with you at the moment.

there was an evident tension between you two—the way you took a sip from your water bottle whilst your pretty eyes were focused on toji’s ripped physique, your gaze that darted from his eyes to his lips, chest, lower body and back up. . . that game of seduction had gone on for way too long. toji had to have you. right here, right now.

that’s how you ended up clinging for dear life onto the treadmill in the corner of the building, your leggings and panties pushed down to your knees and toji behind you with his hands using your hips as leverage—his cock finally having a taste of your warm insides after all this time of fantasising about it during your lessons with him.

“fuck. . knew this pussy’d be fuckin’ tight—almost can’t move due to how much y’re squeezing me, doll.” the man’s rough voice spoke out whilst your wet folds were spread apart to fit his cock all the way in, his size massive to the point it almost hurt, “there you go, takin’ it so well.”

your walls clamped around his dick like you didn’t want him to ever move out of you—like this moment was all you had wanted from your encounters up until now. toji curses under his breath at the sight he’s finally seeing;

you trembling whilst he was balls deep inside of your greedy cunt that swallowed every single inch, even if it stung. what made it even better of an achievement was the fact that your ass was properly in his view now, fat jiggling with each press of his hips against it.

“hnngh—fuck me.. ah, please!” your stifled moans almost make toji’s eyes roll back. he loved those sounds of pure pleasure that escaped your lips—the ones which you couldn’t contain behind that hand clamped around your mouth.

it was risky after all; fucking in an open gym. you didn’t know if that one guy on the other side of the area had already left or not. you couldn’t see through all those machines and pillars obstructing your view. you just went with the logic that if you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see you.

toji—being the absolute tease that he is—had seen your eyes wander across the section of the gym you were in. oh, he didn’t like it one bit that your attention was on anything other than him and his dick slamming into your sloppy pussy;

he stopped his movements and torturously slid his cock out of you until the head was all what was left inside, prodding into you every now and then like he was going to slam it back fully, only for nothing to occur. toji bit the inside of his cheek; rough hand landing hard on the left side of your ass, the other side getting its turn a second after you whimper.

the process repeats which makes your back arch deeply, hips instinctively moving back and then forwards—basically fucking yourself on his cock. toji liked that desperation in you. that’s what he wanted to gain out of his actions.

“hah—ya can push those hips back properly now, ay?” your gym instructor exhales through his nose, hand traveling from your ass to your hair, yanking that low ponytail of yours back. his sharp eyes scanned your backside as if you were a piece of meat, his hips grinding against your ass, kneading the flesh with his pelvis, “remember this when y’re squatting again—the position of your back like this, the slight arch—fuck.”

even in a predicament like this, toji used it to teach you about your form during your squats. not that you knew what that man was saying. you were too focused on the way he was slowly stroking his dick in your pussy, wanting the tip to reach the deepest parts.

“shiitt,” toji sighs before a noise—almost a low whistle—forms in the back of his throat. the pleasure kept building up inside of him and he knew that he could cum just by a bit of grinding against that plump flesh of your ass, his balls rubbing against the curves of it, “this body of yours ‘s gonna make me lose my mind, doll.”

but, toji didn’t want to end it with that. he was here to give you the pounding of your life—teach you another lesson which was unrelated to your workouts; the lesson of what happens if you try to seduce a man like him.

toji wastes no time and grabs your hips again, angling his own to hit your g-spot with each rough thrust once he resumes the movements. each press to that sweet area makes your legs shake, lips moving frantically, though only incoherent and slurred words leave your lips in quiet moans;

“nghh! toji, ‘s too good!” you whine, your own hand still clamped around your mouth to keep yourself quiet. you were always vocal during sex, but it was a bit risky to let yourself go in a public space like this, “mmph!”

though, with the fact that you were getting the pounding of your life right now, there was no denying the fact that it was impossible to stay fully quiet. a few lewd moans escape—toji tugging at your hair each time as a warning,

“sshh, don’t w’nna get me fired, do ya?” the man behind you grins. he isn’t even worrying in the slightest that this moment was probably getting caught on the cctv camera footage in the gym.

toji could easily get rid of those himself since he works at the gym and has some internal connections, but it’d make it all so difficult if somebody were to catch you in the act, “if ya keep quiet, we’ll do this more often, yeah?”

you shiver at that promise. you could already imagine all the times you can have toji to yourself in the future; how he’ll press you to a bench and fuck you—or maybe he’ll even take you in bathrooms. it was such a turn on. that’s all what was needed to shut you up in an instant;

“good girl.” that gruff voice murmurs once more, the pressure in your stomach builds, the coils forming threatening to snap any minute now for both of you. toji’s self control was hanging by a thread.

that same thread snapped in half the moment you let out a whiny and vulnerable whimper in the form of his name. with one hard thrust, toji presses his hips firmly against your ass, grunting as he makes sure to dump his load the furthest he could—the warmth of the sticky liquid filling your senses eventually stimulated you enough to reach your own climax.

“easy there, doll.” your gym instructor thrusts once, twice before pulling himself out of you, leaving the mixture of fluids leaking down by your legs. he huffs at the sight, taking it in for a couple seconds whilst kneading your ass between his fingers.

toji grabs a tissue he had somewhere in the pocket of his sweatpants and wipes his tip before tucking himself back in his boxers—pulling his pants up and readjusting his appearance like nothing ever happened.

toji puts the used napkin in your shivering hand and nods at you. you were a pretty thing whilst fucked out of your mind, that he could indeed confirm in a singular moment of eye contact.

he sighs and leaves you to fend for yourself as he starts to walk towards the stairs that lead to the third floor, probably to take care of something. you never know what he’s up to when he’s not in the gym—a mysterious man.

before the gym instructor vanishes, he does leave you a hushed message on his way to the staircase, head cocked to the side to look at you from his peripherals whilst he walks;

“clean y’rself up and continue with your work out. will be back in a few to check in on ya.”

[heizlut]

In A Fight… Right?

cw: mentions of blood, kinda dark

tags: subfem!reader, dom!childe/foul legacy, improper use of foul legacy transformation, rough sex, possessive!childe/foul legacy, unnatural monster tongue, not really proofread, probably more tags but you get the gist

nsfw under the cut

check out my masterlist here!

˚✧₊⁎🐋⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎🐋⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎

A classic way to start your weekend; battling Childe in the golden house for what seems to be the hundredth time. Yet neither of you seem to tire of it. Back and forth, you go through the motions of battling each other, growing more amused each time one of you lands a hit on the other. “Is that all you’ve got?”, you call out to Childe from across the room, teasing him.

He raises an eyebrow, still looking amused, “You do realize I can still use my foul legacy transformation, right?” You give a shit eating grin, “I could take you.” Childe tilts his head slightly, a small smirk plays on his lips, “In a fight right?” The look in your eyes and that wicked smile on your face told him all he needed to know.

He makes his way across the room towards you, leaning down to speak softly and teasingly in your ear, “You sure about that?” His voice and his breath fanning across your ear send shivers down your spine. All you can do is nod. You weren’t backing down from this. You always wanted to know just how much bigger he was down there in that form… Childe laughs darkly, “You have no idea what you’ve just signed yourself up for, sweetheart.”

He takes a few steps back, keeping his eyes locked on yours. His gaze seemed playful, but more in the way that a predator might play with its food before it devours it. Childe gives a final smirk before his transformation begins. Purple electricity and flowing water cover him as foul legacy overtakes him. You stand there feeling your heart quicken at the sight. Now standing somewhere close to 10 feet in height, Childe takes a step towards you, his voice deeper than usual, "Still wanna do this?" "I said I could take you.. I meant it", you challenge back at him.

Childe's laugh sounds a bit more sinister in this form as he now stands in front of you, "So confident for such a small thing like you..." He leans down, his voice low, "I'll fill you so good you won't ever be able to take another man's cock." You feel yourself grow more aroused.

His words were meant as a threat, but you wanted so badly to his and his alone, "Then do it." Your words strike something within him and he moves quickly. One large hand grabs your waist and the other holds the back of your head, "Open up, sweetheart."

You obediently open your mouth slightly, unsure of how he could possibly kiss you with that mask on. That is, until you see a long pointed tongue come out from under the mask. You panic slightly, turning your head away only for Childe to grab hold of your jaw and roughly turn your face back to his, "You wanted this. Don't forget that." He squeezes your cheeks just enough to make your mouth open more for him. His slimy tongue forces its way down your throat and Childe lets out a low groan as your throat constricts around his tongue when you gag.

He pulls away after several moments of probing your throat with his tongue, causing you to sputter and cough now that you can finally breathe. Before you can utter a single word, Childe rips off your pants, leaving your bare and dripping for him. If only you could see the smirk on his face from underneath his mask...

He takes a pointed finger and swipes it through your folds and lets out a satisfied hum, "So wet already..." Childe leans down so he is right in front of your face, "What a little slut you are for being turned on by this form." Your face heats at his words. He was right though. This is what you had been wanting.

Without warning, he lifts you up with ease causing you to let out a gasp. He lines your pussy up with the bottom of his mask and his long tongue appears again. "Hang on to my horns", he demands and you grab on to hold yourself steady. His tongue flicks at your clit, drawing a needy moan from your lips.

A muffled laugh comes from Childe as he moves his tongue between your folds, lapping at your slick, "Fucking delicious" he mumbles. "Need... more", as he says this, his tongue probes at your entrance before finally penetrating you.

Your eyes flutter at the sensation. It's an odd feeling, but one you can't seem to get enough of. His tongue was so long and the pointed end of it kept flicking at your g-spot with perfect precision as it darted in and out of you. Because of the length of it, not only was it penetrating you, but the base of it was smooth against your clit.

Double stimulation as you held the horns of his mask tightly and his large hands gripped at your waist. The pleasure so intense that you failed to noticed his pointed fingers made you bleed in his grip. The blood didn't go unnoticed by Childe though.

Archons... The sight of your blood did something to him. His tongue retreated from your soaked cunt causing you to whine, "Childe.. I was so close..." Your voice a mere breath as your senses were overwhelmed by him. "The only way you'll cum is around my cock", he growls as he sets you down.

He rips off your remaining clothes and lowers his head. His tongue poking out again, but this time swipe at the blood that had blossomed and dripped down your hips and thighs. Satisfied, he straightens up, towering over you as he begins to pull his hardened cock from its confines, "You're gonna be a good girl and take it all."

Your eyes widen at the sight of Childe's cock in this form. His cock was already nicely sized in his human form, but this? It was easily 14 inches and thick as hell. He lets out a dark laugh at your expression as he slowly strokes himself, "What's that look for, sweetheart? Thought you said you could take it." Twisted satisfaction was practically dripping from his voice.

Before you had a chance to respond, he lifts you up in to his lap. The tip of his huge cock pressing against your entrance when he says darkly, "Too bad you can't back out now." In one swift movement, he pushes you down his thick length making you cry out loudly.

"So fucking loud..." Childe shoves his unnatural tongue down your throat yet again, turning your cries into muffled gags and moans. He fucks his cock into you at a pace so fast that all the thoughts you had disappear. His thumb moves to your clit, rubbing in slow circles as your tight pussy flutters around his length.

Childe's pointed fingers dig into your plush hips as he moves you up and down on his cock causing more of your blood to flow onto his fingers. His gaze moves from the blood on his fingers to the blood that now covers his cock. The sight puts him into a frenzy.

His thoughts were clouded by the sight of your blood, the feeling of his cock stretching out your little cunt, and your throat tightening around his probing tongue, "Gonna fill you up with so much cum it'll be dripping from this pussy for days." His words seem to be spoken from his mind as his tongue was still exploring your mouth and throat.

You let out a choked moan, vision hazy as you try your best to keep your eyes on him as he molds you into his own personal fucktoy. "This pussy is mine. You'll only be able to take my cock, no one's gonna be able to touch you. You're mine. All. Fucking. Mine." he growls, his rough and deep thrusts make his words all the more real.

It's too much even for him as he finally gives in with a loud moan. His thick cum spurts into you so deep there's no way you're leaving here not carrying his child inside of you. The feeling of Childe's cock throbbing inside of you has you squirting on his cock, a mix of clear fluid and a little bit of blood from the way he's shaped your pussy to his monstrous length.

As you both ride out the orgasms, his tongue leaves your mouth only to lick the tears from your cheeks that you didn't even realize you had shed. Your vision clears a little as you look at him. Breathless, you give a weak smirk, "See? I knew I could take you.." You let out a broken laugh as you feel him grow hard inside of you again. Archons, Childe could not get enough of you. You were perfect for him.

˚✧₊⁎🐋⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎🐋⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎

a/n: um i went a little crazy for this one. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to make it kind of dark but i ended up going that direction anyways

[accio-victuuri]

BURN AFTER READING. 🍭🍬

i have never made a post with this title before, but i have shared some cpn/speculation that deserve to be burned after reading. lol. this term is often used by cpfs for a candy or info related to the boys that may be “dangerous” — so you have to get rid of it after reading. but for my version of it, let’s describe it as something that is a level up from galaxy brain cpn. it’s the kind of cpn you will think twice or thrice before making up your mind about. 💫

we have (2) topics here and just a disclaimer that i am not confirming anything here. this content is for cpf only. don’t take it seriously!

(1) Who is An Huibo 安慧博?

fans noticed that there was a “stand in” credited for the we and life of us music videos and that is this person. think of it as a body double. it makes sense cause aside from that scene in WE, there are times that xz’s figure is against a backdrop so maybe they needed someone to do that. the clowning began when people were thinking about, what if the other xz in WE mv is actually WYB ⬇️⬇️⬇️

i can think of a couple of different reasons why this could be false but the strongest explanation for me is that xz will not allow wyb to so something like this. he is very superstitious. even if this is just acting, he will not allow them to act out a scene of betrayal. that for me is enough to shut this all down. but on the flipside, maybe wyb wanted him (xz) to play his first villain role opposite him in this music video.

now we have the reasons why fans think this is something worth looking at:

1. XZ and this An Huibo are the only 2 credited actors for both MVs. so it seems kinda special.

2. The director of this is LIN, the same one who directed WYB’s redmi advertisement. There are some CPNs both were made at the same studio. Which makes sense cause LIN has his own shooting studio. There is another separate CPN about this but the gist is we think this director is familiar with both of them. So XZ may be comfortable enough to bring WYB along and even include him in the video.

3. It may not be WYB himself, but he used that name to troll us. It’s so close, Huibo. Yibo.

4. I saw this explanation as well:

If "Anhuibo" is read according to the French transliteration as An Huibo, it would approximately read:

[ã чi bɔ]

·ã: similar to "ang";

·qi: similar to "wei" in Chinese, but lighter and soft;

·bo: similar to "wave", slightly shorter.

5. As a CPF, it’s so easy for our alarm bells to ring if you read that name. An alias of sorts for Bobo. some are saying he used this kind of jumbled name to combat the bad aura of their scene together. Since he is superstitious, this removes yibo’s name and identity as the stand in who stabbed XZ’s character. if that makes sense.

maybe we will know more when they release the behind the scenes video. that is if they show who this stand in is. let’s add this to the bjyx clowning vault in the meantime.

(2) XZ look-alike in the recent GRA

i was talking to @rainbowsky about this and my initial reaction was, cpn aside, i’m surprised at how people notice these things! which i actually should be used to considering turtle’s attention to detail, but still!

so here is the “evidence”

👀👀👀👀

like all other turtles, i’m someone who has stared at tons of photos of XZ. so i can totally understand why people would look twice at this person. i get i. i was staring at this photo for so long as well. however most of the cpfs comment on this is against this candy and they have valid reasons:

1. Why would he attend and be in the audience? XZ is someone lowkey so if he was there to accompany WYB, he will be backstage. Yes he is brave, but not like this — which seems almost careless.

2. There are names on the chair, so it’s not like anyone can just sit there casually.

3. Even if you believe in the probability, CPFs don’t wanna talk much about it cause it can be anti material. Saying XZ has to hide and can’t show his face in GRA. or why is he even there incognito when he doesn’t even have a project nominated. You all know how it goes, antis can twist the narrative. Plus we don’t want to accidentally expose them if this was true. We should not observe too much and post about it cause it will make it harder for them to do something similar in the future.

4. How did this person go unnoticed? Everyone had to get inside the security and there are cameras everywhere. He should have removed his cap and mask which — it’s impossible for someone to not notice XZ ( or is it? ). another thing is maybe he went to a diff entrance??

5. Some are washing it and saying it’s Yibo’s MUA.

Please take that last point i mentioned and carry it over to the reason why this look alike is sus. People are able to confirm that this is not WYB’s MUA because he was wearing a different cap. Even the hair and daresay the ears are not the same. and why would a MUA even be there? If WYB needs touch ups then they should do it backstage. If for some reason it has to be while the broadcast and recording was not on or was on a break, he should not sit there and act like a guest.

Yibo’s MUA, Wang Yiduo has been with him for years. He has years of experience being around celebrities and attending these events before WYB. So he knows the decorum. He will not sit there and act like a guest just because he feels like it.

I’m curious too, who is this person who can walk in— in an event filled with people that are dressed up and then come in with a mask and casual clothes. To be allowed to sit there. Who is special enough? Probably a celebrity? and that’s why some think it could be XZ. Even the staff and assistants during the event are dressed up which made this person stand out. As for the CPN explanation, it’s nice to think that XZ is so proud of Yibo’s nomination that he has to be there. He will find a way to be in the audience and witness this special moment. 💕

I think this can easily be analyzed more if we have the video but i don’t have time to rewatch the whole GRA and wait for this cut. Cause i wanna know if it’s even there, that’s how much we question things here! 🤣 It’s so sus to me that we only have the screenshots and no video when CPFs are notorious for having concrete evidence. personally, it reminds me of the SDC3 incident but this one is still pretty outrageous considering it is a public event.

take what you want with this information. and as always, when it comes to BJYX: ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

sources: one/ two