#but this one is probably better for this set

[badathumanemotions]

Hey, would you be able to write a nsfw fic with spencer but maybe where a few of the team members decide to play poker at Rossi’s and it turns into strip poker with like a bit of truth or dare and you end up sat on Spencer’s lap with like barely any clothes on or smt. And then like later they end up having to share a room at rossi’s and then yk..

High Stakes

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Strip Poker, Half Naked Lap Sitting, Grinding, Dry Humping, Oral Sex, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Face Fucking, Dirty Talk. WC: 5,799 I have no idea how to play poker. (Not Proof Read)

"Alright, who's up for a round of poker?" Derek Morgan announced, his eyes scanning the table.

You looked around at the weary but smiling faces of your teammates. After a long, successful case, dinner at Rossi's had been the perfect way to unwind. The aroma of his homemade lasagna still lingered in the air, mingling with the sweetness of their dessert.

"I think I'll pass," Aaron said, pushing back his chair with a stretch. "It's been a long day. I'd love to join you all, but I better get home to Haley and Jack." His eyes crinkled at the mention of his wife and son.

Rossi nodded, understanding. "Alright, I'll walk you out." They disappeared into the hallway, leaving the rest of the team to rearrange the furniture in the den.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. "You in?" Emily Prentiss asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You nodded, trying to hide your nerves. "Sure, I'm in. It's been a while since I played, but I'll give it a shot."

The table was soon set up with cards, chips, and drinks. You took a seat next to Spencer, who was already shuffling the deck with a focused intensity that was a little unnerving.

"Okay, everyone," Rossi called out as he re-entered the room. "Let's get this game started." He took his place at the table, his eyes showing a hint of fatigue. "But remember, I'm only playing a couple of hands. It's been a long day and I need my beauty sleep." His comment was met with laughter from the others.

The first hand of poker began, with Spencer dealing the cards with a swiftness that spoke of his years of experience playing the game. His eyes darted around the table, reading the subtle tells of his teammates. You took a deep breath and picked up your cards, feeling the smooth edges against your fingertips.

As the hand unfolded, the banter grew more playful, the stakes rising with each round of betting. You watched as Derek Morgan's face remained unreadable, his poker face firmly in place. Meanwhile, JJ's occasional glances at her cards betrayed her excitement, while Garcia's fidgeting with her chips was a clear sign she was bluffing.

Spencer's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied his cards, his mind racing through probabilities and possible outcomes. When it came down to the showdown, he laid out a full house with a smug smile. "Well, well, well," he said, collecting his winnings. "It seems like Lady Luck is on my side tonight."

The room buzzed with good-natured groans and teasing. "How does he do it?" JJ jokes, shaking her head.

A couple more rounds went by, the tension rising as the pot grew. Each of you played strategically, the air filled with anticipation and the clinking of chips. Prentiss leaned back in her chair, her arms folded as she studied the table.

Finally, after one particularly intense round, Rossi rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Alright, I think I've had enough fun for one night. I'm going to call it quits and head upstairs." He glanced around the table. "If anyone wants to crash here tonight, the guest rooms are all yours. No need to drive home if you're feeling too tired."

The team bid him good night, their eyes lingering on the chips and cards as they continued to play. With Rossi's departure, the atmosphere grew slightly more competitive. You felt a thrill as the game went on, the camaraderie of the team mixing with the cutthroat nature of poker.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a devilish grin spread across his face. "You know what would make this night even better?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"What's that?" Prentiss asked, her interest piqued.

Morgan's grin widened. "How about we spice things up a bit?" He suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Strip poker, anyone?"

The room fell silent for a beat before bursting into laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up, surprised by the proposal. Prentiss's smile grew wicked. "Now that's a twist," she said, her gaze flickering to JJ.

JJ caught your eye and noticed your hesitance. She leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on the table. "You know, we can always play truth or dare instead," she suggested, her voice low and soothing. "It's less… risky."

Morgan's smile grew. "How about both?" he proposed, raising the stakes. "You can opt to either take a piece of clothing off or complete a truth or dare from the group." The room buzzed with excitement and a little trepidation. You swallowed hard, trying to decide if you were ready for this.

Garcia squealed with delight. "I'm in!" she exclaimed, her cheeks already pink.

You took a deep breath, the adrenaline starting to pump through your veins. The thought of playing strip poker was a bit intimidating, but the alternative rule of truth or dare had its own thrill. You found yourself nodding in agreement. "Alright, why not? Strip poker with a twist it is."

The game continued, the stakes now higher in more ways than one. Garcia was the first to go, losing a shoe to a bad bluff. She giggled, tossing it aside and taking a shot of tequila.

JJ's eyes widened slightly as she had to remove her sweater, revealing a tight tank top underneath. The room was getting warmer, and not just from the heat of the game. The tension grew palpable as each player weighed their options: fold and risk embarrassment, or push on and hope for the win.

You felt your heart race as the game continued. With each round, the pile of clothing on the floor grew. Before you knew it, you were down to your last few pieces of clothing.

The next hand was dealt, and you picked up your cards with trembling hands. You had a good hand, but the idea of losing was now more than just about the game. You studied the faces around the table, looking for signs of who might be bluffing.

Morgan leaned in, his gaze intense. "You're looking a little flushed, Y/N," he teased. "Is it the game or the thought of what's next?"

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your cheeks spread down your neck. The game had indeed taken a turn, and you found yourself in a situation you never would have imagined when you accepted the dinner invitation. You had continued playing, the excitement and the thrill of the game keeping you in your seat until you were down to just your bra, skirt, and panties.

The hand began, and you focused on your cards. You had a decent hand, but not a sure win. The betting went around the table, each person raising the stakes. You looked around, trying to read their faces, their body language, looking for any hint of what they might be hiding.

As the final round of bets were placed, you felt the weight of the moment. If you won this hand, you could keep your skirt on. If not, well, the thought sent a shiver down your spine. You placed your bet, trying to keep your voice steady.

Morgan called, his smile never wavering. Prentiss folded, a knowing look in her eye. Spencer studied you closely, his cards held tight to his chest. Garcia bobbed in her chair, her curiosity and excitement palpable.

As the tension grew, so did the distraction of your state of undress. You noticed Spencer's eyes darting to your chest every few seconds, the effort he was making not to stare becoming more and more obvious. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of power at the sight of him so flustered. The others had also caught on. They knew Spencer's intense focus was split, and they hoped to use his distraction to their advantage.

The final card was flipped, and you watched in horror as Morgan revealed his winning hand. The room erupted in cheers and whistles, your heart sinking as you realized you had lost your last piece of lower body clothing. With a dramatic flourish, you stood and dropped your skirt to the floor.

Spencer's eyes traced down your legs, his cheeks reddening when he realized he'd been caught staring. He quickly looked away. The room fell silent for a moment before the laughter and clapping began again.

Others had invoked the truth or dare clause here and there, but you hadn't yet. Each time someone chose dare, it seemed to push the boundaries a little further. Garcia had to sing a karaoke song, JJ had to do a sexy dance, and Prentiss had to tell a steamy secret from her past. Each moment had been met with laughter and cheers, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the real fun was just getting started.

The next hand was dealt, and your heart pounded in your chest as you realized you had nothing. You didn't want to remove your bra, so you knew what you had to do. You took a deep breath and announced, "Dare." The room grew quiet, all eyes on you.

Morgan's grin grew wicked. "I dare Y/N to sit on Spencer's lap for the rest of the night." A chorus of laughter and cheers erupted around the table. Spencer's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks burning.

You felt your own cheeks rouge at the suggestion, your heart skipping a beat. Being that close to Spencer, especially in your current state of half-dress, was both thrilling and terrifying. But the excitement of the game and the desire to keep playing overrode your nerves. You nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Fine."

Spencer's body moved back before he even had time to process the words. His chair scraped against the wooden floor, creating a sharp sound that echoed in the tension-filled room. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, his expression a mix of surprise and something else that you couldn't quite decipher.

You took a deep breath and slid onto his lap with more confidence than you felt. His body was tense beneath you, his muscles rigid as he held himself perfectly still. You could feel the heat from his body, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt and into you. Your heart was racing so fast it felt like it might leap out of your chest.

The others smirked as they shuffled the cards for the next round. They could see the electric tension between you and Spencer, and it only added to the excitement of the game. Prentiss began to deal, her eyes glinting with amusement as she took in the situation.

The next few rounds, Spencer's focus was undeniably scattered. His usual poker face was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a constant battle to not look at you sitting on his lap. His hands fumbled with his cards, and his bets were erratic. It didn't take long before the team noticed and capitalized on his distraction.

"Looks like someone's lost their mojo," Prentiss teased, placing her cards on the table with a smirk. You tried to ignore the smug looks from the others, focusing instead on the way Spencer's breath hitched every time you shifted slightly.

The next hand was dealt, and you could see the determination in Spencer's eyes as he picked up his cards. This time, you noticed the way his thumb brushed against your bare skin as he held his cards, and the electricity that shot through you was anything but calming.

You tried to keep your focus on the cards in your hand, but Spencer's proximity was making it near impossible. His breath was warm against your neck, and you could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath you. You thought you had been careful hiding your cards, but apparently, not that careful.

"You're holding your cards too tight," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and gentle. "It's giving you away." You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you couldn't help but lean into him slightly. His scent filled your nose and it made your head swim.

You took a deep breath and tried to loosen your grip, his words sinking in. The whispers continued, his breath warm against your neck as he pointed out small tells from the others at the table. His voice was a comforting rumble, guiding you through the game.

Slowly, the closeness didn't feel so awkward. In fact, there was a strange sense of comfort in having him so near. You found yourself leaning into him slightly, his arm wrapping around your waist in a protective embrace.

As the game went on, Spencer's whispers grew more frequent. He noticed every little detail about the others' playing styles, sharing his insights with you in hushed tones. "Look at how Garcia's thumb is pressing down on her chips," he murmured. "She's bluffing." His voice was low and calming, his words of advice a secret shared between the two of you.

You followed his lead, and slowly, you saw your luck begin to change. You won a couple hands, the pile of chips in front of you growing. The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and the gentle guidance of his whispers had a surprising effect on you. You felt more relaxed, more confident. The daring glances and smiles you exchanged with him grew more frequent, hinting at the thrill you both felt.

Then it happened. As you readjusted yourself higher on his lap for better comfort, you felt it. The unmistakable pressure of Spencer's erection against your backside. A blush crept up your neck, and you froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. His breath hitched, and you knew he was just as aware of it as you were. The room's temperature seemed to rise a few degrees.

You wondered how long he had been like that and how you hadn't noticed it before. His arm tightened around your waist, and you felt a low groan in his chest. You felt yourself start to get wet, the heat and the thrill of the moment making your body react despite the situation. You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

Without realizing it, your hips had begun to slightly rock against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his cock growing harder with every movement. The others at the table were too engrossed in the game to notice, but you were acutely aware of every little sound and sensation.

Spencer's breathing grew shallower. His hips made the tiniest of movements, pushing back into you in a silent bid for more. You bit your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but it was getting harder by the second.

The game continued around you, but the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Each time his hips rocked against yours, it sent a jolt of desire through your body. You could feel your own breath quickening, your chest rising and falling more noticeably with every shallow breath.

You tried to keep your poker face, focusing on the cards in your hand, but it was difficult when you could feel his hardness pressing into you. Spencer's whispers grew softer, his voice a gentle rumble that made your skin tingle.

Suddenly, Garcia broke the spell, standing up from the table with a dramatic yawn. "Alright, I think I've had enough for tonight," she announced, her cheeks still flushed from the alcohol. "I'm going to crash in one of the guest rooms."

Her declaration created a domino effect. One by one, the others began to nod in agreement. The energy of the game dissipated as they all started to collect their scattered clothing. You felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment as Spencer's arm loosened around your waist.

Reluctantly, you slid off Spencer's lap and began to gather your clothes from the floor. The fabric felt cold against your skin, which was now sensitive from his warmth. You couldn't help but feel the loss of his touch as you dressed, the excitement of the moment fading into a confusing mix of arousal and awkwardness.

"Thank you for a… memorable game," Spencer said, his voice strained as he stood up. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding yours.

You tried to ignore the wetness between your legs as you helped the others clean up, focusing on the mundane task of gathering the cards and chips. Your body was still humming with the tension that had built up during the daring rounds of poker. The room felt too small, too hot, as you tried to act like nothing had changed.

The group chattered about who would take which guest room, the conversation light and easy. Yet, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment lingering in the air. The way Spencer's arm had felt around your waist, his erection pressing into you, was etched into your mind.

"Dibs on Morgan!" Garcia exclaimed, slapping a hand on Derek's arm playfully.

You laughed along with everyone else, trying to shake off the lingering tension.

"Alright, let's all head upstairs," Prentiss suggested, breaking the spell. "Three guest rooms, and we're all adults here."

You nodded, eager to escape the charged atmosphere, and followed the group up the stairs. You felt Spencer's gaze on you, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same things you were.

Without a word, Emily and JJ claimed the first room they saw. Garcia and Morgan didn't waste any time either, disappearing into the room across the hall. That left you and Spencer, the silence between you heavy with unspoken tension as you both stared at the last guest room at the end of the hallway.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. Spencer's eyes darted to the room before meeting yours. "Looks like we're sharing," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of something that was definitely not disappointment.

With a sudden burst of courage, you grabbed his hand, your pulse quickening. He looked surprised but didn't resist as you led him to the last open guest room.

Once you closed the door, you pushed Spencer to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes widening as you straddled his lap. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

"Do you want this?" you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. His eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all he saw was the same hunger reflected in his own.

"God yes," he replied, crashing his lips against yours with a fervour that stole your breath. The heat between you was undeniable as your bodies collided, his hands gripping your hips tightly. The kiss was deep and hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could devour you whole.

You grind against his lap, happy to feel that he was still semi-hard. His grip on you tightened, and you could feel his cock growing harder with every movement of your hips. The feeling was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but moan into his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, panting heavily. Spencer's eyes followed your every move as you stood up and began to strip away your clothing, until you were left in your underwear.

You sat back down onto his lap, this time with a sense of purpose, your legs straddling his. He groaned into your neck, his hands roaming over your bare skin as you kissed along his jawline. His touch was gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat wherever he went.

Spencer's fingers slid up the outside of your thighs, his touch feather-light, sending shivers of anticipation through you. His grip tightened as they reached your ass, cupping you firmly. He pulled you closer, aligning your hips with his, and you gasped as his erection pressed against you.

You rocked back and forth, the friction building between your bodies. His breath was hot against your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone. You wrapped your arms around him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure grew.

Suddenly, the angle was just right. Your clit rubbed against his erection with just the right amount of friction, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. The sensation was intense, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bit back a moan.

With every grind, you grew closer to the edge, your breath coming in short gasps. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body trembling with the effort to stay in control. Then, with a final, desperate thrust, you climaxed, your body shuddering in his embrace.

Spencer watched you, his eyes hooded with lust. He could feel your wetness soaking through the fabric of your panties, and it was all he could do to keep from tearing them off.

With a surprising show of strength, Spencer picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You gasped as he laid you gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours. He paused for a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was desire mirrored back at him.

His hands traced the line of your underwear, his thumbs hooking under the waistband. Slowly, so painfully slow, he began to lower your panties. You watched as he pulled them down, revealing your wetness to the cool air of the room. Instead of tossing them aside, he folded the damp fabric and tucked it into his back pocket with a smirk.

He spread your legs wide, taking in the sight of you with a hunger that made you blush even deeper. His eyes roamed over your bare skin, lingering on your most sensitive spots. He leaned in, his breath hot against your folds, and you shivered.

Without further teasing, Spencer's tongue darted out, licking a slow path up your slit. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily. He took his time, savouring the taste of you. His tongue was soft and insistent, lapping at your clit and dipping into your entrance.

You grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets, your back arching off the mattress as he worked you into a frenzy. The feeling of his mouth on you was heavenly, his skilled tongue flicking and pressing in just the right places. You were so close, your body tightening in anticipation of another orgasm.

But just as you were about to tip over the edge again, Spencer paused, leaving you panting and desperate. He slid a finger into your wetness, and you could feel him smiling against your skin as he found your g-spot with ease. The addition of his fingers sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your legs quiver.

As his tongue danced over your clit, his fingers began to move inside you in a rhythm that was both torturous and heavenly. He knew exactly how to hit that spot, his movements measured and precise, as if he had studied your body's every response. You moaned, your body begging for more as he continued to explore you with his mouth.

Spencer's mouth grew more urgent, his tongue lapping and sucking on your clit messily. He was too desperate to care about the wet sounds he was making, too lost in the taste of you to be self-conscious. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, and you gasped, your nails digging into his scalp as you held him in place.

He could feel your orgasm building, the way your muscles tightened around his fingers. With one final, deliberate thrust, he pushed you over the edge, his tongue never leaving your clit as you came hard against his mouth.

As your body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, you felt a surge of energy rather than exhaustion. The orgasm had been so intense that it seemed to have recharged you. Without warning, you sprang up from the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you turned to face Spencer.

You reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Spencer's eyes widened, his gaze drinking in the sight of your breasts. Your nipples harden in the cool air.

Standing before him, you began to strip Spencer of his clothes. Once down to his last article of clothing you knelt before Spencer, your eyes never leaving his as you gripped the waistband of his boxers. His eyes darkened with anticipation as you began to pull them down his legs, revealing his cock, which stood at full attention. Your heart raced as you took in the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making your own body respond in kind.

You reached out and gently touched his cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it. Spencer's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as you explored his length with curious fingers. The tip was wet with pre-cum, and you couldn't resist leaning in to taste him. Your tongue flicked out, a soft and tentative touch that made him jerk in surprise.

Encouraged, you took him fully into your mouth, his length stretching your lips wide. You could feel his hands tighten in your hair as you began to suck, your mouth moving in a steady rhythm. Spencer moaned, his hips forward to meet your eager mouth. You took him deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

You paused for a moment to adjust, then took him as far as you could, holding yourself there and swallowing around his tip. The sensation was overwhelming for Spencer, his eyes rolling back in his head. His hips bucked slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and you could feel his muscles tightening beneath your fingertips.

Finally, you pulled off of him, licking your lips to catch the last drops of his arousal. Looking him in the eye, you whispered, "Use me." It was a simple request, but it held a world of meaning. You wanted him to take control, to show you the full extent of his power over you.

Without hesitation, Spencer grabbed the hair at the back of your head and guided his cock back into your mouth. You moaned around him. He began to move his hips, fucking into your mouth with a gentle rhythm that grew more urgent with every passing stroke. His grip on your hair tightened.

Your eyes peered up at him, watering slightly from the effort to keep up with his pace. You could see the desire in his gaze, the way his pupils had blown wide with lust. It was a heady feeling, knowing you had this powerful, intelligent man at your mercy, reduced to a trembling mess by your touch.

But Spencer had other plans. He pulled out of your mouth with a soft groan, his hand still tangled in your hair. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky. "I want to feel you first."

With surprising strength, he offered you a hand and pulled you up from the floor. Your legs were shaky, but he held you steady. You climbed onto the bed, feeling the cool sheets beneath your knees. You positioned yourself on all fours, the soft mattress sinking slightly with your weight.

You dropped from your hands to your elbows, arching your back and sticking your ass up in the air. You couldn't help but wiggle your hips back and forth, a silent invitation to Spencer.

He moaned at the sight, his eyes glazed over with desire. He scrambled onto the bed behind you. His hand reached out to cup your ass cheeks, the heat of his palms searing into your skin.

Spencer spread your pussy lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the glistening wetness that leaked from your swollen entrance. His groan was low and guttural, a sound that sent a thrill of pleasure through your body. His thumbs traced slow circles around your opening, teasing your sensitive flesh.

With agonizing slowness, you felt the tip of his cock nudge against you. He pushed in gently, the head of his erection parting your folds. You gasped, your muscles clenching around the unyielding intrusion. Spencer waited, giving you a moment to adjust.

Inch by inch, he filled you up, his cock stretching you deliciously. You could feel every ridge and vein, his length sliding deep within you until you were fully impaled. He didn't move for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled.

Then, once he felt you relax, Spencer set a punishing rhythm, his hips slamming against your ass. The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, the rhythmic slapping echoing off the walls.

You whimpered, your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to process the sensation. It was intense, overwhelming, but you didn't want it to stop. Spencer's hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you back onto him with each thrust.

The scent of sex and desire filled the room as he claimed you, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the wetness of your pussy. Each time he pushed into you, your nipples scraped against the soft cotton of the bed sheets. The friction was maddening, making your already sensitive breasts feel like they were on fire.

Spencer's hands moved to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he adjusted his angle. He threw his weight into each thrust, the force of his hips pushing you further into the bed with every movement.

Then he slid one hand down your body, his fingertips skimming over your stomach and pausing when they reached the apex of your thighs. He found your clit, swollen and sensitive from his earlier attention, and began to rub it in gentle circles.

The combination of his deep strokes and the pressure on your clit was too much. You felt yourself climbing again, the pleasure building to a crescendo. You began to moan, the sound muffled by the pillow you had buried your face in.

Spencer leaned over, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you like that?" he whispered. "Do you like it when I fuck you like this?" He grunts out.

You nodded, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. His whispers grew more explicit, describing every little sensation he felt, every way your body was responding to his. "You're so tight, so wet for me," he continues. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so tight."

With each thrust, he whispered about his desire for you, how long he had fantasized about this moment. "I've wanted to fuck you like this for so long," he groaned. "To feel you this way, to hear you like this." His words were like a drug, leaving you craving more.

"Remember when you were on my lap downstairs?" Spencer panted, his hips never slowing. "How badly I wanted to rip your panties off and bury my cock inside you?"

You moaned, his words painting a vivid picture in your mind. The thought of him wanting you that badly, of him fighting his urges while everyone else played the game, was an aphrodisiac.

As Spencer whispered about how he had imagined watching you bounce on his cock in the middle of the poker game, your orgasm crashed over you. You couldn't hold back the moan that tore from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, the muscles spasming with pleasure.

It was wet and messy, your juices coating his cock with each withdrawal, only to be pushed back in with a slick sound on his next thrust. Your thighs were sticky with your arousal, and the scent of sex grew stronger.

You felt your body tightening around him, your pussy pulsing with each stroke. Your orgasm was still fresh, but the relentless pace Spencer had set had you spiraling towards another peak. His breath was hot and ragged against your ear, his whispers of filthy confessions only fuelling the fire within you.

As Spencer spoke of his fantasies, his hand never ceased its torment of your clit. The pleasure grew unbearable, your body a live wire. Then, as if on cue, another orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake uncontrollably. You cry out, your voice a high-pitched whine.

His thrusts grew erratic, his own need for release becoming apparent. You felt your pussy flutter around his cock, the walls tightening and releasing in time with your racing heartbeat. It was this feeling, the tightness and the warmth of you, that pushed Spencer over the edge.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could go. You felt his cock twitching, and then the warm flood of his cum filled your pussy. He groaned your name, his hips jerking as he emptied himself into you, his orgasm intense and uncontrollable. The sensation was intoxicating.

Panting, you both collapsed onto the bed, your bodies entangled in a mess of limbs. You clung to him, your chest rising and falling in time with his, your breaths mingling in the quiet room. Spencer's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as if afraid to let go. You felt his heart racing beneath your cheek. You were both thoroughly exhausted, the passionate frenzy leaving you drained yet content.

After a moment, you lifted your head and met his gaze. His eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a silent question hanging in the air. You offered a soft smile, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. The tension dissipated, replaced by a gentle warmth.

As your breathing evened out, you leaned in to capture his mouth in a slow, sensual kiss. The taste of yourself still lingered on his lips. Spencer's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his chest and shoulders, the feel of his skin smooth and warm beneath your fingertips. He mirrored your movements, his touch gentle and exploratory, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

Spencer's lips trailed down your neck, peppering kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You nuzzled closer to him, your breathing slowing as the weight of sleep began to claim you. "With how loud we were, we're definitely sneaking out before the others wake up, right?" you whispered against his skin.

He chuckled, the vibration running through you. "Right," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. You could feel his smile against your shoulder. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, the gentle pressure lulling you closer to slumber.

[r6eduss]

Girllll what if an imagine where S3! Daryl and y/n are a thing and when Daryl left with his brother, rick and the others were the one who told y/n that he just left and she was so devastated that when daryl eventually came back she treated him coldly then eventually breaking down in front of him because they think it's easy for daryl to leave them

Idk maybe angsty in the beginning then fluffy at the end?? This scenario is stuck in my head for D A Y S 😩

Anws thanks!!

Listen before I go.

•Summary: Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you. (Fem Reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Twd violence, angst, fluff

•Word count: 2.6k

•Setting: The Prison

•A/N: thank you for the request! I’m really sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and you aren’t happy with it 😭 I rewatched a couple episodes to try and make it as accurate as possible to the actual series. also I’m a very strong believer that Daryl would call his partner sweetheart 🤞🏼(I promise I’ve seen all the other requests I’ve gotten!)

Rick, Daryl, and Oscar had set out to rescue Glenn and Maggie, who were being held prisoner in Woodbury. Michonne had accompanied them, serving as their guide through the hostile territory. The operation, however, hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. They had lost Oscar in the chaos, and the Governor had captured Daryl, forcing him into a brutal situation—pitting him against his own brother, Merle.

As the dust settled and the group reconvened, Glenn and Michonne stayed behind to watch over the car while Rick and Maggie went back for Daryl, determined not to leave him behind. Against their better judgment, they returned with more than just Daryl—Merle had tagged along, at Daryl’s insistence. Now, back at the car, an intense discussion was brewing over whether Merle and Michonne should be brought back to the prison.

“The Governor is probably headin’ to the prison righ’ now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle,” Daryl’s eyes locking on Rick, his tone resolute. One way or another, he was bringing his brother back.

Tension radiated from Glenn and Maggie. Glenn, still nursing wounds from Merle’s brutal interrogation, was barely containing his anger. Maggie stood close, her face tight with the memory of her own trauma at the hands of the Governor. “He had a gun to our heads! You really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn's voice shook, both with fury and concern for his family’s safety.

Daryl shot back quickly, defensive. “He ain’t a rapist.” But Glenn was faster. His words were sharp, cutting through Daryl’s protest like a knife. “Well his buddy is.”

Daryl’s face tightened. “They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night,” he said, growing more frustrated. To him, this was simple—Merle was family. Family was non-negotiable. Why was this even up for debate?

Rick, observing the growing argument, finally stepped in, his voice measured but firm. “There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without putting everyone at each other’s throats.”

Daryl’s patience was fraying. “So ya gon’ cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” His irritation was clear. They were even considering taking Michonne—someone they barely knew—while debating his own brother?

The group paused as Maggie spoke up, her voice softer but filled with conviction while gesturing towards Michonne. “She’s in no state to be on her own,” The trauma they'd all just endured weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't understand why Daryl seemed blind to it.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. They had their doubts about Michonne, and Rick had voiced that, telling the group that she’s not going back with them. “That’s righ’, we don’t know who she is. But Merle? Merle’s blood.” Daryl threw the statement out like it should end the conversation, as if everyone would automatically agree.

But Glenn’s response was immediate and cold. “No, Merle is your blood. My family is right here. And they’re waiting for us back at the prison.” His words hung in the air, heavy with finality. Maggie nodded in agreement, she wasn’t about to let Merle, of all people, endanger what little they had left.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl, his voice steady, attempting to bridge the growing divide. “And you're part of that family, Daryl. Not him.”

The statement struck Daryl hard. He looked baffled, wounded even. If they considered him family, why wouldn’t they accept his brother? “Man, y’all don’t know.” He shook his head, anger and confusion swirling inside him.

The silence that followed was tense. Everyone stared at Daryl, unsure of what more they could say. In their eyes, the decision was obvious—but for Daryl, it was far from simple. Finally, Daryl exhaled sharply. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The words hung in the air like a threat, and instantly the group erupted in protests. There was panic now, a desperation to keep Daryl from making a stupid decision out of anger. “No him, no me,” Daryl snapped, his voice thick with frustration. He felt cornered, like there was no room for him to protect both his blood and his new family.

Maggie stepped forward, “Daryl, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his hardened expression faltered. “It was always Merle and me before this,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice clear. He was torn, and it was written all over his face.

Glenn, still reeling from everything, asked a question that Daryl forgot to consider in the heat of the moment. “What do you want us to tell Y/N?” It was a simple question, but one that carried so much weight. They both knew it would devastate you.

Daryl hesitated, his gaze dropping. “She’ll understand.” But there was a crack in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, deep down he knew that you in fact wouldn’t understand. The group fell silent, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

For a long moment, Daryl stood there, chewing on the inside of his lip, torn between his past and his present. Finally, he began moving, heading toward the car. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.” Directing his comment towards Maggie. Rick quickly followed, refusing to let this situation go. “Hey, hey. There’s got to be another way,” he pleaded, knowing how hard this would hit not just Carol but you too.

Daryl paused, his back still to Rick. “Don’t ask me to leave him,” he said, accent thick as ever. “I already did tha’ once.” Arriving at the trunk he begins stuffing supplies into his bag, while telling Rick and them to take care of themselves. He hoists it over his shoulder, glancing one last time at the group, and walking away with Merle.

You stood quietly, arranging your belongings. Your cell had become somewhat of a sanctuary for you, a space to shape, however fragile, into a semblance of back home. You carefully sat down on your bed, deciding that you were going to nap, until you heard a knock, and saw Rick standing just outside. His hands rested against the cracked walls, not wanting to intrude too much. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice very careful.

You offered a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay.” It was silent for a moment, you could tell he had more to say. “Is everything okay?” Rick slowly brought his gaze from your face to the ground, wondering how he could bring the news to you. “Listen.. Daryl’s gone. Left with Merle.”

Your heart lurched violently in your chest, but outwardly, you kept still, trying to keep your breath steady while each inhale felt like swallowing glass. “Is he coming back?” He was coming back right? You two had something special did you not?

Rick’s expression was one of apology, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had broke to you. “I don’t know. He told me you’d understand.” Understand? Understand that Daryl had chosen to abandon the love you thought you both had? Without even saying goodbye?

“Okay.” You replied softly, your voice refusing to betray the devastation roaring inside you. You couldn’t fall apart, and especially not in front of Rick.

He lingered for a moment longer, “if you need anything..—“

“I’ll be fine, Rick. Thank you.”

He gave you a solemn nod before stepping back into the hallway, the silence in your cell feeling almost suffocating. You sat frozen for a very long moment, staring at ceiling. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came, hot and unbidden, blurring your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You sank onto your bed, your body shaking with silent sobs and your heart aching in ways you hadn’t expected. You’ve always known that Daryl was complicated, guarded.. but why did he leave? Were you not important enough to him? Did you really mean that little? A hundred questions burned in your mind, and none of them had answers.

It felt like an eternity before the next day finally arrived. The night had been restless, your mind circling endlessly around one thing, and that one thing was Daryl. The way he had just stood up and left you behind, it left a pit in your stomach that only deepened with each passing hour. But today, you had bigger problems, problems that made personal heartache seem almost insignificant.

Glenn was gone, in attempts to clear his mind. With Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy town, he was the next in charge, and right now he had a lot of pent up anger on what the governor did to Maggie. But of course, while he was gone, the Governor had made his move, and it was brutal. His forces stormed the prison with a cold, ruthless efficiency, and everything erupted before you had time to prepare. Axel was the first to fall, a sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Carol, who had been standing just beside him, let out a sharp cry of shock. In a heartbeat she ducked behind Axel’s now motionless body, using him as a shield.

Bullets ripped through the air, the deafening sound of gunfire filling the space as you scrambled for cover. You crouched behind the crumbling remains of the prison walls that were near the gate, heart hammering in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. You clutched your rifle tightly, hands shaking slightly as you peeked out from behind the wall, eyes scanning for targets.

There. One of the Governor's men was in your line of sight, crouched low, his rifle trained on the courtyard. Without hesitating, you aimed and pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted your body, but you didn't wait to see if you hit your mark. You ducked back behind the wall, the echo of gunfire ringing in your ears. Around you, The group fought just as hard, each of them locked in their own battles.

As you leaned out again, carefully scanning for your target who you hadn’t known already retreated, your eyes fell on Herschel, who was still exposed in the courtyard. Rick, positioned just outside the fences, was also in a precarious situation. At that moment, the Governor and his men launched an assault, sending a car to smash through the courtyard fence. Herschel, crouched in the field with his rifle, began to feel the weight on him as walkers started to flood in from every direction.

The fear was palpable among you, Rick, and especially Maggie as you all dreaded the possibility of losing Herschel. Just as the Governor began to leave, Glenn had returned, driving into the courtyard while Michonne followed the truck, cutting through the walkers that stood in her way. Their intervention was a lifesaver; they quickly rescued Herschel, escorting him into the truck and out of the courtyard, into the safety of the prison gates.

Outside, Rick was struggling to fend off the relentless walkers closing in on him. Just when things seemed dire, a bolt flew through the air, striking the head of the walker attacking Rick. Daryl and Merle had returned, joining forces with Rick to clear the remaining walkers. Daryl and the rest of your family were okay.. and that’s all you needed to know before bolting back toward your cell, trying your best to avoid the archer in the process.

A couple hours later you found yourself sat on your bed, running your fingers absentmindedly over the pages of an old journal you started keeping. Without looking up, you could heard the familiar sound of boots shuffling just outside your cell. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand brushing against the frame of the cell, his shoulders hunched slightly as though the weight of the world rested on them. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, the air between them thick with tension.

"Hey," he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and hesitant.

You looked up at him then, your expression unreadable. Daryl shifted his weight, uncomfortable under your gaze. Without a word, you stood and brushed past him, your shoulder grazing his as you walked out of the cell. Daryl flinched at the contact, his jaw tightening. The cold shoulder hit him harder than any words could have, and as he watched you walk away, he felt the guilt gnawing at his insides.

The distance between you two only grew more unbearable. As the days flew by, you continued to ignore him, feeling as if he didn’t deserve your attention, while Daryl found himself missing the soft touch of your hand, the warmth you brought into his life that no one else ever could. He couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to fix this.

He found you sitting on the edge of your bed again, scribbling quietly in your journal like yesterday, not looking up when he entered, just blatantly ignoring him.

"Damn it, why’re ya avoidin’ me?" His frustration finally boiled over, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. You paused, setting the journal down slowly before looking up at him with steely eyes, the walls around you finally beginning to crack. "Why did you leave, Daryl?" Your was voice trembling but controlled, laced with anger. "Was it that easy?"

Daryl froze, his usual tough exterior faltering. He wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by you. He fidgeted, biting the inside of his lip. "It ain’t like that… Merle— he’s my blood."

"And what am I, Daryl?" You instantly snapped, voice rising higher as your emotions spilled over. "Why was it so easy for you to leave me? You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you not care?" Daryl’s gaze fell to the ground, avoiding yours at all costs. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight”

Your eyes instantly widened in disbelief and hurt. “You left me here, alone, when I thought we had something! You weren’t even clear headed enough to think about how it would affect me!” Daryl flinched at edge of your voice. “I didn’t know what to do! I was tryin’ to do what I thought was right.”

You stood up abruptly, your anger radiating off you. “What was right?! You think abandoning me without a word is doing what’s right? Why’d you even come back if clearly all you needed was Merle.”

Your words cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He stood there, staring at you, the silence stretching painfully between you both. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I came back 'cause I realized I love ya."

Your heart fluttered at his words, the anger in your eyes softening, though the hurt was still there. For a very long pause you just stared at him, scanning his eyes for any possible doubt for what he just admitted to you. “..Actually?” You really couldn’t believe it, you never thought he’d be the one to say those words first, but he did. All You wanted to do was stay mad, to push him away for making you feel like you didn’t matter, but the vulnerability in his voice stopped you. He again chewed the inside of his lips and nodded slowly to answer your question. "I’m sorry." he mumbled, looking down. He looked like he was about to cry, and in that very moment you just wanted to nurture him.

So without thinking, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him. Daryl tensed at first, his back stiffening at the unexpected embrace, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you in return and leaning down into your neck, feeling comfortable and safe.

"I love you too.. but don’t ever leave me again."

Daryl leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, lingering just for a moment. “I won’t, sweetheart.”

And that was a promise he’d never break. Not for anybody.

@vampiresluv

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - So Many GREAT Kisses!

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

(Please notice I am now using 6 dots in all ellipses because according to Taiwanese BL that's how we queers roll. Who am I to argue?)

Sept 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - A most excellent glow up. And it’s still a great show. And I cannot wait to see the many different faces of War. Bring on the Leverage of One action-packed mess. I'm waiting.  

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 9 of 12 - I’m gonna say this because it drives me crazy. Why are boys in BL, when out and about the countryside, always dressed inappropriately for Thailand? If it’s hot, takeoff your damn jacket. I don’t mean to be crass or crazy or whatever. But don’t wear a jacket when it’s 90° with 90% humidity. In Thailand, jackets are for malls. Meanwhile, I’m an extrovert and that still seemed like an exhausting trip. Although, I suppose they didn’t show all the drive time in the van, when everyone is asleep.

Meanwhile, why are the sides so frustrating in this show? Authentic friends-to-lovers is always a slog. Finally a kiss! And a decent one.

New character? Aw! Hi Yu!!!! Gosh Putter is so cute.

Where were we? Oh yes, Beer is now heartbroken. Always the great fear in F2L that the friendship will be destroyed as a result. And it’s a decent fear. 

On a completely different note, I cannot help but wonder when somebody’s chue len is Beer, if that is because beer was involved in their conception. Like, it’s the name you give your "oops baby" from that drunken night at the club. Don’t mind me. I’m just over here in the corner being crass.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 8 of 12 - That was one of the cutest wake up sequences ever depicted. Utterly adorable. And now he’s blind again? Oh my God this is such a soap opera, I can’t even. Meanwhile, wicked ice prince finally made his move. Gah! Why aren’t we getting more of this couple? I always love the sides best with this production house.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I love a hard fraught game of badminton. Even though we actually didn’t see play. YoIng claiming was so cute!!! And their shower kiss was v hot. Yay little show! Also cute use of the punishment trope!

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - The weight upon the shoulders of our idiot good guy kidnapper continues to pile up. So does the affection. The dude playing Q has sanpaku eyes. Cool. He’s not a particularly good actor though. Rough because everyone around him is giving their very best.

The problem is. I'm noticing. I shouldn't be noticing all the talent trying so hard. That usually means there is something wrong with the story, or there was something wrong on the set.

I don't know what to say at this juncture except I have the sinking suspicion this might not actually be a good show. (Covers head and cowers. Don't hate me.) I'd loved to be proved wrong, but my faith is GMMTV is only about 50% these days. And it probably should be lower.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 6 of 10 - I was so confused by how we suddenly got on a trip together, that I went back and re-watched the previous installment. And it still isn’t explained. So I have no idea why our leads are on a trip but apparently that’s the next trope to hit. I also have no idea how they're suddenly boyfriends. I’m just generally confused by this episode. It’s like an alt reality. We skipped over all of the stuff where they actually got into a relationship. In general I wasn’t wild about this episode.

The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 12fin - The most realistic thing about this show is that everybody is everybody else’s ex on any given set. I feel that in my bones. Or do I mean boner?

Frankly, both actors look better after a glow up and I guess pretending to be more their actual ages suits them? Considering what was actually done to invoke youth (a lot of the shine and gloss) aging them was an anti-glow up. A great mattification? Well...... this was a somewhat lackluster finale. (Thank you, thank you, the pun was unplanned. It's a gift.)

I don’t know. I guess I wanted to see Jane suffer? Work HARD to get the kid he abandoned back? I would’ve liked to have seen Ryan a little bit more competent and capable and his job. Maybe dating someone else. But I also do not want any more episodes. This was more than enough. So instead no separation, just boyfriends and a montage of their lives together, getting new and better jobs, moving in together, being supportive and sweet, etc... LOOK: It’s never a good sign when I immediately want to rewrite the show that I just saw.

In conclusion:

A story about a group of interns at a commercial video production company. While I genuinely love OffGun, I’m not convinced this was a good vehicle for them. Is it terrible for me to say, I miss their PickRome days? I don’t think they’ve ever had rolls that suited them better. Still, theirs was the best storyline in this ensemble piece masquerading as a BL, although they still fumbled the ending. Thus, I enjoyed about a 1/3 of it as much as possible, and 2/3 of it less than conceivable. 7/10 and I seriously considered dropping it to a 6/10 so don't push me.

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 15 - Not gonna lie I was very skeptical. But I like it fine. Better than I expected because it’s been changed just enough. But it does need to stay changed. I don’t know what I’m trying to articulate here but…... I guess we’ll see.

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 3 of 5 - It’s cute in a weird disjointed way. I’m enjoying it enough, I guess. I do like how forthright and direct Kla is. 

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Ah. Bully romance. My old frenemy. Of course making this office based means +10 for workplace harassment. Well well well. This will be red flag party town I see. How VERY old school yaoi. It’s all very Cdrama CEO = dudes in suits walking on parquet (minus all the gay sex of course.) The jumping around between times and unfinished scenes is very strange. Is this Starhunter chaos only applied to a timeline?

Imma say this so they hear it at the back. YOU HAVE TO CHANGE THE HAIR. If you do time jumps: change. the. hair. It's the easiest and best clue if you aren't going to apply a filter or other cinematography tricks. JUST CHANGE THE DAMN HAIR STYLE.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - And now we all start using six dots in our……? A new coded way to indicate that one is into BL? I did think we were in a slight mire with ep 9, too much teacher filler. Not enough time spent with our boys. Meanwhile, sports day. Pouty Baby utilizing the power of Ge, in front of all of the classmates who do not realize how hard he is flirting and activating babygirl = one of the greatest things ever to happen on my screen. Essentially this was a version of the claiming trope, only nobody knew it but the two of them. Fucking genius. Yes, I watched it multiple times. Then babygirl is injured, the carrying and the flirting!!!! Gah!

I don’t mean to trivialize the show, but this is me and I can trivialize everything even something as brilliant as this. But that conversation about history at the beginning of ep 10...... Was that about topping and bottoming? Because it sure seemed that way.

And then...... Possibly the best only one bed trope twist ever?

This show is so fucking amazing.

And I am so worried about the end.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 7 of 10 - I love the kinkyness of our baby boy’s fantasy. Where he is the gift and his boyfriend is in uniform. Very nice. Thank you Japan. Never one to let kinky dogs lie. Also, the premise continues: one half thinks that they are already boyfriends and acts like it, and the other half is still trying to become a boyfriend. It’s absurd in that way that only Japanese miscommunication extraordinaire can be absurd. Also could Kyosuke be any more under his boy’s thumb? 

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 1-2 of 10 eps - Shiba is a top lawyer, angular aggressive bespectacled workaholic cat-type (Kitten? Babygirl? Tsundere? Some unholy combination of all 3?) I am reminded I should be more considerate of my potted plants. OMG the teasing and the little tongue sticking out. Haruto is such a flirt. I love this dynamic. What fun! Manic pixie dream boy but MAKE HIM EVIL! Or very high? Or a grifter? I have absolutely no idea what’s going on. But I’m enjoying it. It’s very...... very

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 7 of 12 - Oh! Good kiss. Smart to have the younger character initiate. I also like that he put a stop to it and then went and had a long conversation with a friend about it. Cautious boy. Also shows how in control of the situation Sea is becoming. It works for this BL since he has the stronger personality. I don't care what the characters say, this is about Sea becoming a rock for Neil.

But the secondary couple is actually winning this show. I want so much more of them. 

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 8fin - I’m not sure that blackmailing and entrapment, especially of your ex, necessarily justifies cheating. Plus I never like it when it’s gays against gays. But what did I expect from this show? This whole series was basically Korea’s version of messy gay. If you liked Only Friends you’ll probably enjoy this bullshit. And they were quite pretty. I, however, am monumentally displeased. 4/10 FATALLY FLAWED but still, basically, BL, however…... do we want to support this kind of behavior?

KOREA PLEASE GIVE US A NEW PROPER BL!! WHERE ARE YOU? WE ARE SAD AND LOST WITHOUT YOU.

It's like now they discovered boys can kiss they can't be happy.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL and it's exactly as expected. I do not like it at all. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. DNF 

In case you missed it

I FINISHED Meet You at the Blossom (China). I ate crow, binged the fucker, and live blogged the experience. I enjoyed it a lot and got quite witty (I think) there are also puns (warning). But if you don't wanna slog though it, here are my final thoughts:

This was undeniably a wuxia and most definitely a BL. Evil stunning princely Cheekbones meets and falls in love with the bisexual disaster Dimples of his dreams. There’s a lot of floaty fighting, tangled plot, and overworked emotions. From start to finish it is exactly as it claims to be, including more than the expected amount of sexual claiming (dubious conscent to the point of rape). I’m not wild about the wuxia genre, but I will tell you what I do like: Very pretty men in flowing robes + eye makeup + hair ribbons wafting about stabbing and kissing each other plus ridiculous soap opera machinations. I also like cheekbones and dimples. AND I love a stupid gay sleeve, okay? There was also truly epic levels of stink-eye, and that too is to be lauded. This show left me grinning like crazy. Was it great? Not really, but it was a great experience and I enjoyed it immensely. 8/10

4 Minutes (Gaga) Ended - Spies reported in to say the ending was not-exactly-unhappy and mostly lackluster. I'm torn over whether to watch. My natural disinclination to binge, meets my dissatisfaction with wishy-washy, is going up against my love of high heat and pretty men. Oh the age old struggle between art and lust.

Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke finished and it’s reported to be solid. Age gap treated with respect. I'm curious, so I'll check it out if I can get hold of non-G-drive subs.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Still Coming Sept 2024:

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I love love love this execution of the punishment trope. What's Ai going to do to you, Yu? Ride you to death?

I Saw You in My Dream indeed.

Sigh. This show. (Addicted Heroin)

All praise one of BL's best-in-show glow-ups. Nicely done, Jack.

James, on the other hand. Never needs a glow-up. Still the prettiest. Has been since Oxygen. (Battle of the Writers)

He's playing the role of Saint in this show, thank you very much. Speaking of which, wouldn’t that be just the most gorgeous pairing in the entire universe? Saint and James? I’ll be in my bunk. 

Taiwan giving us a boop! Reminds me of Be Loved In House I Do, right up there with TharnType as chronic boopers.

Why is he SO GOOD in this show?

All Frist Note.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[blackknight-kai]

Let me start saying I love your blog, reblogs and headcanons, truly, all of the above🩷🩷

If you’re comfortable with the question, do you have any for the Destined One with a female virgin reader?

So I wanna say thank you 🫶🫶🫶🫶 I haven’t quite shared my own head canons much but I don’t have any issue sharing them 🫶 others do a much better job of it so I’ve left it to them. But! Your ask comes at a wonderful time as I needed a break from writing a fic 💀 (kill me im up to 20k)

Let’s get after it! Destined One & a female virgin head canons? I’ll give it a shot! There will be a nsfw section below sorry if that’s not your thing. I wasn’t super explicit on body parts etc but let me know if you guys want a Sun Wukong one? I’d try.

If you’re NOT in a relationship yet and he finds out? (Be it you told him outright or it comes out in passing conversation)

He’d would remain expressionless and quiet as usual. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it and remain respectful

But if you look closely you can see him swallowing thickly at the new information

Will NOT treat you differently

He has a LOT of feelings for you and knowing you haven’t shared yourself with someone else, while not a huge deal he’s never really cared one way or another, it’s something he finds himself thinking about often.

It makes him a little hot under the collar sometimes when he looks at you and remembers what you’d said.

NSFW - on the very rare occasions that he takes some time to himself or you’re not around, in the quiet he puts his goal to the side for just a moment and allows himself to think about his wishes and whims. Specially how he’d touch you and make it good for you because you deserve to be treated like you’re special and HE wants to be the one to do it.

If you’re in a relationship and it either came up naturally or during a more…heated moment.

Would absolutely freeze. Like body full on screenshot kinda freeze - only his tail would flick and twitch as he processes

Because honestly it hadn’t occurred to him before but it is NOW. He’s thought of you and making love with you but first or not first hadn’t been a topic of thought

He’d probably internally get flustered and his heart would race ridiculously but on the outside his expression would appear stoic or mildly surprised

Wouldn’t try to pressure you or make a big deal out of it, as though it doesn’t matter one way or another besides making extra sure you’re comfortable

His tail would eventually give him away though as it would be swishing behind him happy and interested as the information settles in his brain

Dude would be first and foremost HONORED If you shared that news with him and were giving him your first

Probably a first for him too ngl. I see him as someone who was so focused on his path that warming another’s bed wasn’t something he was willing to spare time on.

If it’s not a first for him too then it’s not something he’s done often and isn’t an expert

Would definitely thank you for trusting him with sweet reassuring kisses (if they are a little heated don’t blame him too much)

He is respectful! As I said no pressure. No rush. But would the information please him? Yes.

Definitely adds fire to his belly because HE will be your first

Sends a note of possession through him not because he’d “own” you but because regardless of being a first or not you’d be his and he yours.

NSFW:

Regardless of if you’re shy or ready to get the show on the road he’d be so gentle and would be careful, really careful.

Probably a bit unsure and might move a little too fast accidentally in his own lust but would immediately sooth you as soon as he realizes

Looks to your expressions and sounds to make sure you’re feeling good and safe

He wants to treat you WELL views it as HIS duty to make sure you’re happy

It’s a lot of pressure but he’d do his best and set his mind to it being nothing but perfect for you

I imagine at first his hands would be so feather light letting you get used to him and his touch as he undresses you piece by piece- he’d watch his claws unless he finds out you enjoy them grazing across your skin

He’d brush his lips across every piece of new skin revealed to his eyes unable to help himself

Finds out he really loves your chest, both feeling you & tasting you. as well as napping on you later

But over time as the act went on he’d be more confident, still tender but less unsure

He’d be enamored every time he got you to sigh or make a pleased sound

It’s his goal to hears those often

When he discovers how turned on he’s made you it would send waves of pride crashing over him, he had done THAT

Overall though he’d take his time

He probably won’t speak much if at all, but he’d make sure you’re ready every step of the way. If he does speak it’s not more than a few words here or there, low and only for you to hear as he nips your ear

Multiple check ins

He’s a giver, and while he isn’t practiced whatsoever he’d use his mouth and fingers to bring you pleasure, finding out exactly how you like it by listening to the way you moan or the way your body shivers and trembles with specific movements

He 100% will become VERY VERY good with his hands and mouth

His tail is sneaky, he’d use it as a way to hold on to your leg (holding you open while one of his hands is occupied) or would brush the the furry appendage across your skin just to see goosebumps rise in its wake

When you’re finally connected, after time spent letting you get used to him (and him you because let’s be real he’d be overwhelmed by the feel of tightly wrapped around him too) he’d roll his hips gently

He would make sounds, sighs and groans in your ear.

He’d love it if you cling on to him and tell him he’s doing something good

Full on shudders if you scratch his back or dig your nails into him - he loves it and he might accidentally thrust too hard when you do it

Wants to hear you 👏👏

Would keep control for as long as he could but would listen to your requests almost instantly if you asked him to move faster

Would love it if you moved his hand exactly where you wanted him to touch you

Would suck marks on your skin - thighs and neck, wherever he absentmindedly ran his lips. Would be shy about it later but would touch them possessively or when you’re dressed his eyes would stray to where his marks are on your skin.

Afterwards he’d silently but tenderly wipe you down and then pull you into his arms

Would nuzzle his face against you and breathe your scent as you both relax and come down from your high

Would massage any soreness you have that he could and feel pride at wearing you out, although his face wouldn’t show it

His tail would be like a vice around your thigh all night and trying to get out of his hold in the morning is a chore

He’d 100% take care of you especially for a first time is basically what I’m saying. After, he may be a bit rougher with his movements or may be impatient at times especially after a tough fight and adrenaline is still kicking but will always treat you tenderly as you guys build confidence together.

[caitlinsgirl]

Thank you for this

summary: the narrator and caitlin are childhood friends. the narrator enjoys staying out of the public eye while supporting her favorite girl. set after their tough playoff game against the connecticut sun.

word count: 1.73k

tags: fluff, comfort, c*nner mention

author's note: thank you guys so much on the love for the last one! i'll get to the requests in my inbox, i just got in my feels after seeing caitlin's black eye after today's game. also tumblr kept fucking up and i had to re-do the upload for this likeeee 3 or 4 times so any mistakes i apologize. i hope u enjoy.

It feels bittersweet when you think about the time together. You no longer feels shaken up by the concept of time passing by anymore. You stopped panicking over the fact that you and the people around you are getting older. After all, getting older is a privilege, and you thank God everyday for letting you watch your girl become the woman that she is today. But today, today feels like a punch in my gut. You cannot think of anything, nothing except the passion that Caitlin has felt since you were little girls. You remember how she would beg you to join a team for more time to be with her.

“Any team!” the multi-sport prodigy would proclaim. “It doesn't matter if you'd suck, we'd have fun.” Of course I knew it would matter, though. For all you know, she could have probably stopped being your friend over how bad you would have been. Despite not being a member of her teams, you went to every game your best friend played in. Even if you felt sick, you was there, cheering her name louder than anyone in the stands, except maybe her family of course. You watched her through every high and low that made her the athlete she is today.

But nothing could have prepared you for today. The first playoff game for the Indiana Fever is over, and the players are making their way off the court. From your seat, you can see the way your best friend's eyes are glued to the ground as she followers her team to the locker room that's reserved for the Connecticut Sun's opposing team. If you were honest, you could not care less about the result of the game, or whether or not your favorite WNBA team advances in the playoffs. The only thing that matters is her, and the chance to make her feel better after this tragic loss.

Hey

Your phone lit up and chimed with her message just as you stepped out of the shower in your Connecticut hotel room. Butterflies immediately swirled in your stomach. What could be the right thing to say? What on Earth could I possibly say or do to make this horrid day into a good one for her? Making it better is not enough for you. You wish to see her on top of the world, sunshine or rain, win or lose. To the world, she is just an athlete, but to you, she's your person. An angel who deserves to have a smile on her face.

Teams going out to eat but im too tired to go with

Can I hang out with u at ur hotel room? theyre gonna talk about the game and I’ve had enough basketball for today

Of course u can

You rush to dry yourself off and get dressed. You quickly make your way downstairs to buy her favorite snacks at the lobby concession stand. Anything you can do, anything she wants, and more.

You had booked a hotel room within walking distance of the Indiana Fever's team. Having a room within the same establishment would have been too strange. This is Caitlin's job, after all, and you're just her friend. Maybe it would have been appropriate for her boyfriend to book a room, but not you. At least it felt that way.

You nervously paced back and forth in your room as you waited for her to show up. You arranged all the fun snacks you picked up in an adorable display on the 2nd queen bed of the room, the one you were not sleeping on. A bag of unpopped popcorn was waiting for Caitlin's entrance in the microwave. Two cups of ice were in the fridge, so they would not melt so fast. The hotel had all kinds of movies available on the TV, and you were about to queue up High School Musical, but then you remembered that movie is partly about basketball. Okay, Cinderella it is. Your favorite Disney princess movie has become her favorite too, from all the times you forced her to rewatch it with you.

A gentle knock on the door made you jump a little bit. You quickly made your way and paused for a second. You took a deep breath, and opened the door to see her. Her hands were in her sweatpants pockets and her shoulders were slightly slumped forward. Her black eye became darker as the night went on. The sight of it made your heart ache. You had the desire to take her into your arms and tell her how much she means to you. Your hands burned with desire, but you just smiled.

“Hey girl,” you said before stepping aside to let her in.

She walked through the entryway and stopped at the foot of the queen bed.

“Did Willy Wonka come in before I did?” She raised her eyebrow at you.

You couldn't help but to giggle. “No, goofy! I thought we could have a proper movie night,”

Her lips slightly curled into a weak, but much needed smile. You walked to the miniature fridge to pull out the cups. “Do you want apple juice or soda?”

“Juice, please,” she responded as her eyes scanned your selection. She picked out a couple of items, then a third one for good measure, before plopping herself onto the other bed in front of the television. You put your drinks on the nightstand and took the spot next to her. As if it was routine, the two of you tucked yourselves under the blanket. You hit play, and her body moved even closer to yours. Her head rested on your right shoulder, heavy and with a sigh. She is not talking about it, but you can read it all over her.

Caitlin's mind is rushing. It is impossible to land on a single thing. You could not begin to imagine the things she was saying to herself, and you did not care. The only thing you cared about was making those thoughts go away. You looked down at her and imagined yourself latching TNT onto the tracks ahead of her train of thought. You imagined it running of its tracks, leaving her without the negativity or self-doubt.

You could not stop staring at the bruise on her face. You have seen her hurt before, this is not anything new. You saw the bruises that those games left her with, the soreness in her body after a hard day in the weight room. In fact, sometimes you thought those bruises on her looked really, really hot. Something about that black eye, though, it makes you feel so utterly sad.

You wrapped your right arm around her shoulder and pulled her whole body even closer to yours. She did not hesitate, either. Her strong arms almost immediately wrapped around your waist and she took in the smell of the conditioner on your slightly damp hair.

“Thank you for this, [name].” She mumbled as her eyes stayed glued on the beginning of the movie. The sound of her voice felt like you were hearing it for the first time she spoke your name. You replay it in your mind over and over again, thanking God that you could be so close to her. Her friendship felt like salvation for the both of you, a reminder that life is still sweet and worth conquering. When you both imagine your old age, you think of each other, and the gentle serenity that each other's presence brings. “We're gonna have a house together when we're little old ladies,” she used to tell you when you were kids.

Your right hand found its way to her pin-straight brown hair. Your fingers wove themselves through and gently massaged her head. I love you. She leaned into your touch and closed her eyes with a small, content hum. With her arms around your waist, you felt like you could die here happy. The smell of her skin was familiar, yet intoxicating, like a drug that you could not get enough of. Your left hand moved with a mind of its own and slowly cupped her face. You lifted her head and she opened her eyes, her face inches away from yours.

You leaned in, and her grip around your waist loosened for your ease. You gently kissed the black spot under her eye, as if your touch could heal her from all the horribleness that came from today. She closed her eyes again, her cheeks flaring up and lighting on fire with her pumping blood. Her cheeks, ears, and neck felt hot with desire for your touch. You could hear her heart beating.

You kissed the spot again, gentler and slower this time. “Do you know that I love you, Caitlin?” You asked her.

She opened her eyes and looked at you. She furrowed her eyebrows, shocked that those words came out of your mouth. You have told each other that you love each other before, what pair of best friends have not done that? But you both knew this was different. You began to hesitate and tried to think of a way to backtrack, a way to explain-

She sat up fully and took your face into her hands. Her thumbs grazed your cheeks and her eyes studied the beautiful features on your face. It was as if she was seeing you for the first time. She moved her hand and touched your lips with her right thumb, tracing the outline and savoring the softness of your skin. Now it was your turn to blush furiously.

“Please kiss me, Caitlin,” you said looking into her mossy hazel eyes.

“I love you too, [name],” she slurred as she closed the space between you two. Her kiss felt gentle, but hungry. The both of you felt years worth of desire all at once. You wrapped your arms around her waist and ran your hands up her back, memorizing the way her body fits with yours. She made you ask her again, then again, then again.

The two of you eventually fell asleep in each other's arms with the ice in your cups melted and your snacks forgotten. You assumed she let her team know she was heading over to your hotel room, you just hoped none of them would suspect anything the next day.

[kasagia]

Mastermind

Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!rich! reader Summary: Benny sees you at one of the car picnics the Vandals have invited themselves to. You catch his attention immediately. When his eyes land on you, he knows that nothing ia gonna stop him from getting you. Unfortunately, you're with some rich bastard. Luckily, Benny is a mastermind. And he won't stop untill you will be his. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog My mumbling: To be honest, I don't know what it is, I just had this idea in my head and this fic took on a life of its own. Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

"Who is this girl?" Benny nods in your direction. You eye one of the more decent cars, glancing every few moments at the Vandals’ abandoned bikes a few feet away.

But your gaze isn't full of disgust or fear. No. It's pure curiosity, excitement, a yearning for the thrill of danger. And who is Benny to ignore the call of such a beautiful girl?

At first, at a very first glance, he was simply interested in you. You were beautiful, dressed in expensive clothes, out of his league, but Benny liked a challenge and the thrill of the chase.

But when he saw you save one of the Vandals' kids from being hit by a moving car and calm the kid down, entertaining him without a shadow of aversion to the bikers' kid, until he forgot about it and went back to his parents, something in Benny clicked. No one else saw it but him. But that's the moment Benny knew you were going to be his wife.

"Don't even think about it, boy. Princess of Chicago. Her father sleeps on the cash register, it's a miracle she's even here and hangs out with commoners like us." Johnny pats him on the back, laughing. But Benny's got a plan. And he'll stick to it until he gets you.

"I asked for a name." Benny replies calmly, still glaring at you even after some stupid rich spoiled kid who spat at Vandal earlier walks up to you and wraps his arm around your waist. Benny wants to rip the man's hand off of him for that desecration of you.

"Y/N Y/L/N. The apple of her father's jewelry company's eye. Future heiress to the fortune and out of your reach, boy." Benny nods at this information, still watching you.

"You know what they say... Strategy sets the scene for the tale."

He lights a cigarette and sees you pointing at a beautiful black Triumph Fury from England. Benny doesn't say it's the best choice, but he's seen worse cars. You had... quite good taste.

His blood boils when your stupid boyfriend snaps something at you, but instead of listening to his shit, you just walk away from him and leave him alone by the cars.

Benny giggled a little.

You lean against one of the trees and reach for a cigarette. Your flame in the lighter fortunately refuses to obey. Benny sees his chance.

In a few quick steps he's in front of you while you're still struggling with the lighter. You lift your head at him and Benny swears his heart stops for a moment as your eyes finally land on him.

He watches your face carefully, inhales the scent of your sweet and probably expensive perfume as he carefully raises the lighter with the flame to your lips painted with a sinful red lipstick and lights a cigarette for you without a word as you stare at him in amazement. Benny tenses his muscles just a little to look better in front of you.

"Thanks." You mumble and grab a cigarette in your hands. You lean against the tree and exhale, calming down from the nicotine smoke and not caring about his presence.

"No problem." Benny nods and leans silently against the tree next to yours.

He refrains from looking at you and instead looks at the bikes in front of you. He barely suppresses a smirk as he feels your piercing gaze on him.

"What are you?" You ask him, looking him up and down carefully.

Benny shrugs and taps his Vandal pin on his chest a few times with his index finger. You roll your eyes at him and blow smoke from your red lips, making Benny want to inhale the cloud you exhale.

He was so lost...

"What do you want?" You ask him angrily, assuming that lighting you a cigarette wasn't a selfless act. Because it wasn't. Benny had his purpose in doing it. But you didn't need to know that yet.

"Nothing." He shrugs and lets go of the cigarette, holding it between his lips as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looks at you the way you look at him.

"Then why are you standing here?"

"And why are you standing here, sweetheart?" He answers your question with one of his own. You frown, and Benny smiles softly to himself at how adorable you look all irritated and wrinkled.

"I have a boyfriend." You respond coldly. Benny, however, is not put off by this. He just throws one contemptuous glance at the loser who is your boyfriend and goes back to looking at you.

"And I have a bike." You snort at his words before you can stop yourself, and when Benny hears your soft giggle, his heart skips a beat.

A smirk tugs at his lips, adrenaline pumping through his veins from the excitement of making you laugh as he watches you intently, as if trying to memorize the exact image of you.

"Oh, I've seen." You mumble dismissively, but Benny sees your gaze fall on HIS bike.

The mere fact that you know which one belongs to Benny makes you unconsciously show him that you are at least the slightest bit interested in him. And that is exactly what Benny needs for now.

"Like it?" He asks, approaching you. He leans against the same tree as you, his bare shoulder brushing yours.

Goosebumps rise on your skin and you try to hide your reaction to his proximity by casually throwing your cigarette to the ground without looking at Benny.

"Did you steal that Harley?" Benny gives you a mischievous, mysterious smirk at your accusation.

He takes another step towards you and stops right in front of you. He's clearly invading your personal space, but he's far enough away to leave millimetres between your bodies. Your scent intoxicates him, and the heat of your body calls to Benny like a siren's song to sailors. And how much he wanted to be devoured by you...

"Who said it is an origianl one, little shrew?" You swallow and look away from him to analyse his bike again.

Benny can see the gears in your head turning, the way you squint as you try to find the difference between his bike and the original. And god, Benny is only a man, of course he took advantage of your moment of inattention and checked you out. Especially the valley between your breasts...

"Wait... you made it? On your own?" You ask impressed and he simply nods.

Unfortunately, you don't get to talk any longer. Your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend walks up to the two of you and, ignoring Benny completely, tells you that you have to go back to some stupid family dinner.

I can see in your eyes that if it were up to you, you would stay longer, but you're reluctant to leave Benny's side and follow your boyfriend.

"If you ever want a real ride, look for Benny!" He shouts after you. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you turn around but he's not looking at you anymore.

He goes to his bike and starts it with a loud roar. He adjusts the side mirror to get a good view of you and does a few of his signature stunts before he drives off.

He smiles to himself, realizing you've been watching him the whole time. The bait worked.

"Holly shit." You mumble to yourself as you stand on the side of the highway.

You sigh as you get out of your car, wondering how the hell you're supposed to get to the city now that your boyfriend's tires are flat. He's fuming, cursing at the car while you calmly smoke a cigarette sitting on the trunk of a broken-down car.

"Why aren't you doing anything?! Do something! I'm not pushing this into town. Take off that sweater and try to hitchhike." Your boyfriend yells at you angrily. You raise an eyebrow at him and continue smoking calmly, refraining from punching him in the nose. Just then you hear the loud roar of an engine.

You turn your head and see the same Vandal from the car picnic. You look at each other for a moment, intently, your boyfriend stares at you in surprise but you don't pay much attention to him anymore.

"I would use that ride now." You tell him and throw the cigarette on the road. Your boyfriend shouts something at you but you completely ignore him, staring at the Vandal in front of you.

"I thought you had a boyfriend." He says, sending you his mischievous glare. You shake your head with a small smile.

"Not anymore." You say while looking at your now ex-boyfriend.

"What the hell, Y/N?! You're really going to go with that outcast and leave me here? I'm the hottest catch in town, and you know it damn well!"

"No, no, no. I AM the hottest catch in town, honey." You correct him and grab your bag from his car. You walk over to Benny's bike and sit behind it, rolling your dress up to your thighs so as not to give anyone a show. "Have fun with your ego. God knows you two will be just fine pushing this junk through. You could always drop your pants and try to catch some desperate old lady to give you a ride. Although with your calibre it'll sooner be some guy." You wave at him as Benny gasps his bike and accelerates with a screech of tires, leaving your ex far behind.

You scream and grab the biker by his jacket, unprepared for such a fast ride. You dig your nails into his muscular torso and cling to his back, riding a bike for the first time.

Benny is in heaven. Your perfume is carried by the wind, making the ride on his bike even more enjoyable.

You press your front against his back, so he can feel every delicious curve of yours. And the way you dig your fingers into him makes his mind wander to other situations you could be doing this in. And this, surprisingly, seems much more enjoyable than riding his bike completely alone.

You rest your cheek against his back and gaze at the scenery around you. Benny is racing so fast you can barely see anything but him, your heart is beating wildly and a strange feeling of excitement inside you makes you wish he would never make it to town, but would just race you through the cornfields.

At some point, however, your ride ends. Benny parks outside the Vandals' bar and waits patiently for you to get off his bike and let him go. Although he is not at all pleased that your hands are leaving his body.

"Thanks. If not you, I would stick with that asshole." You say, and he leans against the wall of the building. He slides you one of his cigarettes, but you shake your head and take yours out of your purse. "How much do I own you?" Benny frowns at your question and stares at you as you wait for his answer, already looking for the money for him.

"I don't want your dad's money." He surprises you again. You stop all your movements and blink a few times, almost dropping the cigarette from between your lips.

"But... for gasoline..."

Benny simply shrugs as you continue to process the fact that he really doesn't want anything from you. There had to be some hidden meaning to it. There always was. Everyone wanted something from you, there was no selflessness in hanging out with you. It shouldn't be any different with this Vandal.

"My bike, my petrol."

"You drove me halfway across town and off the fucking highway. That's a lot of petrol. I insist." You say, practically shoving the money into his pocket. But Benny pulls away and grabs your wrist, before you can pay him for this little ride.

You swallow as his thumb lazily strokes your skin, bypassing the gold bracelets on your wrists to caress your skin instead of the expensive metal.

"If you care so much, you can buy me a drink, little shrew, because I won't take any money from you." Benny mumbles hoarsely and reluctantly lets go of your wrist. Before you can respond, he's already heading to the bar.

With no other option, you sigh and follow the Vandal to the bar. You try to avoid the ripped, fat men and follow Benny like a shadow, hoping that none of them will bother you.

The atmosphere of the club is thick, you can almost feel the cloud of testosterone in the air, piercing through the smell of cigarettes and strong alcohol. A real den. You've never been in a place like this. And with man like him.

"Two beers." Benny nods at the bartender. He hands you both your drinks and you quickly put your money on the table. Benny puts his arm around yours and, holding your drinks in both hands, leads you to a less crowded part of the club.

Benny's arm around yours makes you feel a little safer and more comfortable in the sea of ​​tattooed men. Some whistle at the two of you but you follow Benny's example and ignore them, trying to focus on the man who was leading you.

Benny was different from most guys you knew. Most of them couldn't change a tire on their own car, hadn't dirty their hands with hard work, and basked in their families' fortunes.

Benny was the definition of masculinity, danger, and self-sufficiency. He was something new, exciting, titillating. Every good little rich girl's wet dream. And maybe if you were younger and more naive, you would have fallen into his arms and let him destroy you completely to his own liking. But you knew all too well how guys like him behaved. And even though Benny drew you like a moth to a flame, you preferred to keep your distance from him and any trouble he could bring. Or at least you tried hard to.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask him, getting straight to the point as you sit down at the table.

"Doing what?" He asks, sipping his beer. He looks at you like you're the only interesting thing in the world. And as much as his intense gaze sends a pleasant tingle through you, you're afraid you won't be able to resist him for long.

"This. Don't look at me like this." You say, swallowing hard. Goosebumps rise on your skin as Benny pulls his chair closer to yours, leaving only a mere centimetres between you and you can smell his scent mixed with grease, cigarettes, and the wind from the fast ride.

"Like that?" He asks innocently, resting his hands on the back of the chair and flexing his muscles.

He sips his beer, wrapping his full lips around the neck of the bottle and his gaze never leaving yours for a second. You clench your thighs and shift in your chair, embarrassed by the effect he has on you.

"Benny! Will you introduce me to your company?" With a small sigh of relief, you turn to the man who interrupted you. Benny is slouched and sulking in his chair, furious at Johnny for interrupting him when everything was going his way.

"Johnny. Club leader. Y/N. My girlfriend."

"I am not your girlfriend." You snap at him, turning your angry gaze at him. And that bastard just smiles sweetly and shrugs.

"I'm sorry. My little shrew." He corrects himself with a sly smile. You narrow your eyes at him, wanting to punch him in that smug face of his, but then his Johnny starts talking to you.

You sit in the club for a moment longer and then go to their phone to call someone from your residence to come pick you up. Once you have all the details sorted out, you don't go back to the table, you just run straight for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, Benny is very attentive.

"Stop, kid." Johnny says and gently pushes Benny into a chair. "She's not the girl for you. Better let her go and forget about it. Girls like her don't fit in with people like us."

"The first time that I saw her, I knew I wanted her badly. Nobody will stop me, Johnny. Not even her. I've already made up my mind. The dominoes cascading in the line." Benny answers confidently and runs after you.

He leaves the bar and looks around. He sees you walking far down the street, turning a corner out of his field of vision. He gets on his bike and starts it faster than ever and follows in your footsteps.

He was so close to making you care even a little as much as he did, and he wasn't going to stop now that he had you practically within reach. Benny knew that if he let you go now, all his efforts would be for nothing. And he wasn't going to start from scratch with you. His engine roars furiously beneath him as he chases after you. He smiles to himself when he sees you waiting outside one of your father's stores and pulls up to you. He stops right in front of you and doesn't turn off his engine. He doesn't look at you, just ahead on the road, waiting for your next move.

Benny hopes he doesn't show how stressed he is about what you're about to do, how impatiently he waits in the cold, deafening silence.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You ask him, shoving your hands into your pockets. Benny sees you twitch slightly out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm waiting for you to get in." He replies calmly, taking his hands off the handles of his bike to rest his elbows on his thighs. You raise an eyebrow at him, wrapping your hand around the keys you carry in your pocket. Just in case. After all, you didn’t know that guy.

"I have no intention of doing so." You talk tough. But Benny is just as stubborn, if not more so. He won't let you off the hook that easily.

"Then I'll wait until your driver comes to pick you up and then I'll follow you to your house."

"You are lying. You can't do that. That's fucking stalking. And from what I know, you already have enough problems with the police."

"So you're interested in me after all, princess?" He gives you a dirty, wolfish grin and a wink, making your heart race. You find your reaction very pathetic, but you can't control yourself at all when this ridiculously handsome Vandal is flirting with you and doing things like this. He's a little unsettling, but also very exciting. No guy has ever wanted you as much or shown as much interest in you as this one. "Test me." He challenges you and calmly pulls out a cigarette to light it. The bike beneath him continues to roar furiously as he awaits your decision.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “You don’t want my money, but you follow me around like a lost puppy. What’s your problem, man?”

"You." He mumbles in that sinful raspy voice of his, staring at you as if he was tearing your soul apart. You swallow, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

"And what about me?"

"I fancy you." He shrugs like it’s an obvious thing to state. You stiffen as he dismounts his bike and walks over to you. You take a few steps back, gasping as your bare back hits the brick wall behind you.

"Me?"

"Uh-huh." He purrs and leans toward you. You hold your breath in some strange form of anticipation as you stare at him and wait for his next move.

A shiver runs through you as his fingertips brush your cheek. He caresses your red-hot skin, stands close to you, inhales your scent, and acts as if he's doing nothing out of the ordinary, as if being this close is proper and normal.

"I think about you. Often. When I am on the road. And I wish that you could sit behind me and hold on to me as we both race with the wind."

It's such a trite line. The one he probably fooled a lot of girls with. But God, how can you think logically when he's standing so close to you and telling you things that every girl dreams a guy will tell her?

"You'll take me home or what?" You ask, swallowing, trying to hold on to the last bit of control you have as his hand lazily brushes your jaw, tracing a line along your neck and stopping at your shoulder.

His hand is large. Warm. Rough but comfortable. His fingers dig into you, the cool metal of his rings calming you down a little. But your heart is still beating wildly, wanting to break free and give itself to the man before you. Even though he was a huge pain in the ass.

"Get in, little shrew." He says and nods to his bike. Not trusting your legs too much, you take small steps and carefully place yourself on his bike.

You shiver when he suddenly puts his warm Vandal jacket on you. You accept the cover without looking at him and put it on yourself. You almost moan as his warmth and scent envelop you, and his large, threadbare, grease-smeared jacket suddenly becomes the only one you ever want to wear.

Benny climbs onto his bike. He starts it, the engine humming and shuddering beneath you, but Benny doesn't move yet. You frown, wondering what he's waiting for. You quickly get your cue when he reaches behind your hands and wraps them around his torso. You blush, feeling his abs much better now that he's wearing just a black T-shirt.

"Harder, princess. I'll go fast." That's the only warning you get before he starts the engine. You scream and grab him hard, practically digging your nails into him. And Benny just laughs at it. Or at least that's what you gather from the way he trembles under your hands.

Because of the speed you're going, you arrive at your gate pretty quickly. The security guards stare at you in shock, but only for a moment before they return to their professional demeanor. They let you through, and Benny parks right under the steps to your entrance. You thank God your dad is away on business and won't see you riding Vandal's bike.

You get off your bike and stand there stupidly next to Benny wondering what the hell you're going to do with him now. Will he get bored and ride off? Or will he wait outside your house? Or will he want to come inside?

"Will you ever get the fuck away from me?" You ask him angrily, not knowing what to do.

"Is this what you really want?" Benny asks calmly and lights his cigarette.

You don't answer that. Somehow this Vandal became.. close to you. You don't want him to go anywhere, to leave you alone. Somehow it was exciting to run into him from time to time. But he wanted more...

"I won't date you. My dad would kill me if he saw me with one of you. Or disinherited and thrown out of the house." You tell him right away, hoping that he'll get bored and leave you alone. Because you can't tell him to fuck off anymore. You can't seem to get it out of your throat and sound sincere.

"Then it's a good thing I don't want you to date me." You try to keep a straight face at his words. You nod and turn to go home, probably get drunk and try to forget about those damn striking blue eyes. But then Benny's scream stops you. "You will marry me, princess!"

An involuntary smile forms on your lips, and that familiar, pleasant excitement returns. He really wants to race and play this game with you. Somehow, it seems much more enjoyable than the advances of those rich assholes. This one really tried and put an effort in chasing you.

"Not even in your wildest dreams, biker-boy!" You shout over your shoulder and go to your house.

Benny stands by your door for a moment longer. He finishes his cigarette and watches the lights in your house blink. Once he figures out which window is yours, he smiles at himself and starts his engine.

The real game has begun.

"Oh my God, how romantic!" Your hairdresser squeals above you, glancing over her shoulder every now and then to watch Benny lean against his bike, smoking a cigarette, watching you through the window, waiting for you to finish your hair appointment.

"Rather frustrating." You comment without taking your eyes off your reflection in the mirror as your hairdresser does your hair.

"Honey, do you know how many women come here? And do you know how many men wait of their own free will for them to leave while we finish doing their hair? NONE. And that handsome guy on the bike... get after him before one of us grabs him in our claws."

You roll your eyes at her words and light a cigarette, trying to push down the ugly feeling of jealousy at the thought of some hag riding your Vandal's bike and hugging him from behind like you do.

Not. Fucking. Happening.

"As if I cared." You mumble and let her finish your hair.

You pay her and chat for a while at the cash register when out of the corner of your eye you notice Benny, who is still leaning on his bike and waiting outside the hair salon for you to come out, now talking to some girl.

You say goodbye to your hairdresser and leave. You walk closer to the two of them and your anger flares when you hear the other girl flirting with him.

"So... do you have a girlfriend?"

"I don't know... do I, princess?" Benny shifts his gaze from her to you and raises an eyebrow, smiling stupidly and maliciously when he sees the fury written all over your face.

Without a word, you get on his bike and wait for him to join you. Benny quickly abandons the girl he was talking to earlier and starts the engine.

You dig your fingers into him a little more painfully than usual and press your body against his. You rest your cheek against his back and give the other woman a warning look, marking your territory.

Luckily Benny doesn't see it. He drives ahead with you in the back and only then do you realize your stupidity. You let him take you wherever he wanted just because you had to point out that he was yours. He wasn't yours, but...

"Here we are." He pulls you out of your thoughts. It's only because of him that you realize he took you out of town to one of the infamous Vandal picnics.

Your dad will kill you if he finds out.

You feel a little out of place in your white mini skirt among all the bikers and their women in leatger jackets, but Benny doesn't care that you don't fit in with his company with your Chanel bag.

He takes your hand and pulls you closer to the fire. A few people whistle behind you, and you involuntarily move closer to Benny, seeking safety. Seeing this, he puts his arm around you and pulls you into his side. And you wonder why the hell you're letting him drag you like a rag doll.

Benny sits on a log and waits for you to join him. You decide to sit on his lap since you don't want to get your skirt dirty on the branch of wood.

"Don't think too much about it." You mumble at him and he just smiles evilly, feigning innocence.

"I would never dare."

You spend the evening with the bikers, listening and laughing at their stories, sitting on Benny's lap. A few of them called you Benny's girlfriend and you didn't feel like correcting them. Besides, it would be hard to explain your relationship… you don't know exactly what it is that connects you with the biker.

You think about it as you ride cuddled up to Benny on his bike again. The night air hits the two of you, and you're glad you're wearing Vandal's jacket. You sigh, thinking about how over the past few days he's changed your routine and crept into your life, like a thief taking away bits of your time until you practically spent the whole day with him. And surprisingly, it didn't bother you one bit.

It's only when you stop that you notice that Benny hasn't been driving you home. Instead, you're on the outskirts of town, near a small forest. You breathe in the fresh night air and look at the stars above you.

Benny moves on his bike so you can lean against his chest. He envelops you in the embrace of his strong, tattooed arms and rests his nose against your hair, sighing your scent. You sit there for a moment in blissful silence, listening to each other's breathing and the sounds of nature. You've never known such blissful silence as with Benny.

"You enjoyed today." He states, doesn't ask.

You know him well enough now that you know he's been watching you closely all night, and your every little reaction to his Vandal family. And he was right, you quite liked it. But spending one evening like that, and all of your potential life with Benny, is a big difference. And you don't know if you'll be able to keep up with his crazy life, since you've been accustomed since you were a child to having the best comforts and living in complete safety and control.

"I did." You reply, lazily tracing patterns with your finger on his arm. You almost giggle when you see the hairs on his arms stand up in response to your touch. "But I still won't be your girlfriend."

"And I think I've already told you that I want a wife, not a girlfriend."

"You hardly know me." You adopt a new tactic, trying at all costs to dissuade him from this idea, to prove that you do not belong together at all.

"I know enough to know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you. And when I get to know you and your character, I realized that we are meant for each other."

The way he looks at you now, his closeness, the warmth, the smell of cigarette smoke and the beer he's been drinking make it hard to think straight. Especially when he's practically opening all his cards to you.

"I hardly know you." You mumble in shock, prepared for the fact that someone might actually care more about you, that someone is chasing you and not your dad's money, that someone wants you and not the privilages of your last name.

"You will have time for getting to know me, princess. Besides... I think you know about me much more than you are willing to admit to yourself."

You swallow hardly. Benny's hand plays with the button on his jacket that you're currently wearing. You sigh as his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you closer to him. His fingers travel under your shirt, and you bite your lip hard, holding back a moan as you feel his cool, long fingers on the heated skin of your stomach.

"My dad will kill you." You mumble in warning, not really paying attention to it yourself now as his roving hand gently caresses the skin of your stomach and brushes teasingly over the material of your bra.

"I'm stronger than you think, little shrew." In proof, he tightens his grip around you. You sigh slightly, biting your tongue hard to keep from moaning his name as his hand cups your clothed breast. "Nothing can stop me… unless you really don't want me." He whispers hoarsely in your ear and presses his lips to your temple.

It is both a warning and a promise. He can leave you alone, but you must reckon with the consequences. You know that a man like him leaves with the first goodbye, with the first sign that he is an undesirable element in your life. But what can you do when he pulls away from you, stops rubbing your breast teasingly, and gets off his bike, depriving you of his warmth and the strong embrace with which he protected you from the outside world? How can you reject him once again?

You have not such strength in yourself. You are already glad that you lasted that long with turning him down and didn't give in to him at the very first meeting, when he came to you and lit up your cigarette.

"I can't just marry you. It hasn't even been a month since we first met." You remind him and yourself, but you feel that along with his hot, intense gaze on you, any remnants of your common sense are melting away.

You want him. No matter who disagrees with it or how people react to it, you feel that you can no longer live without him in your life. He was everything you never had. Freedom, wildness, passion, boundless, sick love that makes you swallow you whole, and you are able to do stupid, irrational things. And you want all of it. Even if you have to sell all your nice things and walk around covered in grease and gasoline like him.

And that was a big declaration coming from a rich, spoiled daddy's little girl like you.

"Sometimes you just see and know. You can't say you don't feel it, princess. You're meant to be mine. You know it." After his words, silence falls between you. You are in a kind of staring contest, since you try to endure his deep look.

You feel that you are slowly losing control, that your life is slipping away in a completely new, unknown direction, and honestly, you do not want to turn back for a moment. But your parents raised a cautious girl.

"We are making a prenuptial agreement." Benny snorts with laughter but nods, obediently agreeing to your terms.

"I've told you before, I want you, not your money, but fine. If that makes you feel safe, fine, we will sign one." You stare at him in deafening silence, unable to believe that this was really happening, that he was really running after you just to have you, to be his. You. Not your parents' money, not the expensive things you could buy him, not the job you could offer him at your father's company. Just you. It's just you.

"You are crazy." You laugh in disbelief. His jacket wraps around you snugly, providing comfort from the cold night wind that ruffles Benny's hair, making you want to run your hand through it yourself and see if it's as soft as it looks.

"You're crazy too. You finally agree." He says with a small smile, and you blush.

You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to the forest beside us. Benny won't be having this. He steps up to you and takes your chin between two fingers, forcing you to look at him again. You swallow, your gaze travelling from his eyes to his plush lips.

"I want a ring. And fancy motorcycle's wedding. With the cans attached to your bike and everything."

"Deal." He whispers back and cups your cheek in his hand. His thumb strokes your skin, his touch searing, igniting a flame of desire so great within you that you wonder how the hell you could have lived without knowing such a feeling.

"And I want to settle down someday and have real house, family and so on."

"Okay." He mumbles and presses a kiss to your other cheek. You sigh shakily, grabbing his bike with all your might to keep from tearfully and desperately digging your fingers into Benny and pulling him closer to you. You're fucking trembling, and the guy hasn't even touched you properly.

"Seriosuly? You are going to do so and agrree just like that?"

"I told you. I want you. I will do everything to have you."

You envy the calmness in his gaze and actions as he lazily presses kisses across your face. Cheek, temple, forehead, nose, other cheek, the edge of your jaw… anywhere but your damn lips.

"You didn't even kiss me yet." You remind him angrily, and Benny can only chuckle deeply at your indignation. He tugs a strand of your hair back and takes a step towards you, standing between your spread legs as you remain on his bike.

"A mistake I intend to fix." He mumbles, and finally, after many years, centuries, enoahs, of waiting, he presses his lips to yours.

You sigh, grabbing him by his shirt and balling the material into a fist, pulling him closer to you. His lips move in such a wonderful way, caressing yours, tasting you intently as if he’s trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, every little gasp at his caresses, and everything about you.

His touch is electric. It fires up every neurone in you, turning you into a whining, needy little mess as his tongue connects with yours in a mad dance. You stop caring about anything in the world, just being as close to him as possible; that's all that matters; all that matters is Benny. You break the kiss only to have him angrily rip his shirt off of him, and you quickly silence any attempts he makes to mock you and your haste by capturing his lips in another bruising kiss as you explored his muscular torso that you've been clinged to so many times while riding his bike.

Your thinking goes out the window when all you can feel and worry about is Benny.

Benny presses you against his bike and deepens the kiss as you moan into his mouth, feeling every muscle of his against your body. He practically rips your shirt and bra off of you, leaving you in nothing but his Vandal's jacket as he trails his kisses from your jaw, neck and collarbone to your chest.

You tangled your hand in his hair, pulling him as close to you as possible, and it made Benny feel like he was in heaven. You wanted him as desperately as he wanted you, and Benny was going to give you exactly what you wanted and needed.

Benny smiles against your silky skin as he leaves his marks on you. He had managed to do exactly what he had planned. And he was extremely happy about it.

And with your soft moan and the clumsy, quick fumbling with the waistband of his pants, he only has one thought on his mind.

Checkmate. Benny couldn't lose.

And now you are only his.

[aithusarosekiller]

I have some trans regulus for you

Non-stereotypical trans Reggie who doesn't really think that short hair suits him or makes him feel better. He tries it for a while because he thinks it's what he's meant to want but then lets it grow back out a bit because it just isn't him

He didn't always know. He figured it out pretty late and it scared him bc it seemed to come out of nowhere until he really looked into it. Because it was so late on, he doesn't really have a set plan on what to do next. He gets some gender affirming stuff (binder packet etc) but doesn't wind up using them much bc they're new to him. He knows who he is in his head so the reminder that it's not how he looks from the outside is odd to him and he takes a while to warm up to it.

His coming out stories aren't big and emotional. Lily is surprisingly the first to find out but it's because she figured it out and kindly asked him: he felt her warmth and kindness and just said 'yes'. He blurts it out to Sirius one day in the middle of a visit to andromeda's and they silently move on, not really talking about it but sirius instantly changes his language. Narcissa doesn't really understand when she picks up on the shift in the way Sirius talks about him but she doesn't make a comment. James is probably the most emotional, just because he thought he was going to get dumped when reg started pulling away, just to find out it's bc he was scared after realising he was trans. There's a whole big thing about it and it all turns out okay in the end.

He never corrects people that mess up and gets awkward when certain people do it for him because he'd been taught that it was 'wrong' his whole life so he instinctively tries to hide away and make his presence as a trans person mininal. Sirius and Dorcas understand his worry but will NOT have people purposefully misgendering him

Regulus who doesn't cry much but ends up cuddled up on the sofa sobbing to his brother one night because he just feels wrong next to his trans peers, they all seem to have a distinct path to follow and a way they want to look but he can't figure it out because it's just not the same for him

He had weird dysphoria around his nose, hands, eyebrows, ass etc

Trans regulus who takes a while to figure it out and separate himself from his socialisation as a woman because it shaped so much of his past

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Some of @render-me-usless' Fav Fics!

If you want to make me a list let me know in IM. You can do whatever you want, fave fics, fav tropes or even check out the pending asks page and fill one of those.

Where to Search for Snow by suburbanmotel

(1/1 I 8,954 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles and his Gigantic Repressed Feelings accidentally affect the weather. A lot. Like. A lot.

//

  “It’s snowing, Stiles,” says Derek.

Stiles looks up. He nods. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

Derek looks at him. “It’s snowing, Stiles. In your bedroom.”

Stiles and the Seven Wolves by SylvieW

(1/1 I 10,421 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles is Snow White, Kate is the Evil Queen, and when Chris the Huntsman doesn't kill him, he runs off to live with seven werewolves.

Somewhere to Start by Lissadiane

(1/1 I 33,552 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles has always known that he isn't quite human - the plant life that tends to sprout around him whenever he gets upset or excited gives it away. He's never really fit in among the regular people in Beacon Hills and is determined to wait it out, go to college, and find somewhere to belong. He's forced to abandon those plans, however, after he desperately agrees to enter into an arranged marriage to save his father's life.

An arranged marriage with an angry, sometimes furry dude with trust issues. It's all very Beauty and the Beast, without the singing candlesticks.

Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(2/2 I 81,018 I Teen I Sterek)

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth.

“Not too close, he bites.”

Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting.

“He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton.

The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.”

“Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek.

He looked extremely displeased.

Three Marks by sanam

(8/8 I 113,736 I Mature I Sterek)

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse

(25/25 I 115,506 I Explicit I Sterek)

"I'm sorry, I believe there's something wrong with my hearing," Stiles said. "Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me."

Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn't misheard a damn thing.

After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.

Months later, there's an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won't last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott's brother.

In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.

Black and Blue by charlotteinlace

(50/50 I 209,549 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles knows what he should be doing, finding a good Dom and seeing a few dozen therapists. But that shit can wait, right now he's got a gang to infiltrate and a murderer to find. A murderer who killed his father.

[steddieas-shegoes]

try again later

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts slap, loud, breeding kink, vibrator

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 2814 words | check ao3 for all tags

🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻

Steve’s heart races as he climbs the stairs to his room. He promised Eddie he would wait for him to get back from Indy tomorrow to do this, but he’s been thinking about it all day. Nonstop.

And Robin made him go home to “deal with his problem” even though he was scheduled to close.

His problem being that he’s been hard for the last three hours.

It’s Eddie’s fault, really. He’s the one that bought the vibrator, left it on Steve’s bed, and then fucked off to do band things in Indy for four days.

The first two days, Steve ignored it. It was easy to do because he was still unsure how he felt about using it at all. Eddie assured him he’d love it, and Eddie was usually right about the things he likes, but a part of Steve thought that maybe this was too far.

Until this morning, when he unboxed it out of curiosity, and he found that it had five settings. And that it had a heat feature. And that it would work as a plug, too.

He shoved it back in the box and stared at his ceiling for two hours before he got up and got ready for work.

He was useless at work all day, both Keith and Robin were completely done with him.

Steve sits on his bed and thinks about this.

He could just try it out on the lowest setting and see how it works. He’ll wash it really good and then box it back up so Eddie doesn’t know. He knows Eddie won’t waste any time when he’s back; He’s just as impatient as Steve is.

But he doesn’t want to lie to Eddie, and even more than that, he doesn’t want to break Eddie’s rule.

He kinda wants to, though. A little bit.

He’s usually so good. Always does what Eddie wants, tries to be a good boy for him.

And in return, Eddie tells him he’s good, and gives him what he wants, and makes him feel like he’s flying.

He thinks breaking this one rule might be worth it.

So he unboxes the vibrator again and he makes sure it has the batteries it was supposed to come with in it and he reads the manual slowly so he understands the buttons. If he’s doing this to himself, he needs to be able to feel which button is which.

“Just the lowest setting,” he says to himself as he strips all of his clothes off. “Just to see.”

It’s thicker than he expected, so he opens himself up on two fingers before he even tries to slip it inside.

When he does, he knows he’s in trouble.

“Fuck,” Steve whines, biting his lip as he tries to find the perfect spot for it to fit snugly against his prostate.

It’s not even on yet and he thinks he’s going to come.

Once it’s settled inside, he lets his arms fall against the bed, his breaths heavy as he tries to calm down. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should’ve waited for Eddie.

He reaches down to press the button on the tip of the plug, the one that turns it on.

The moment he does, he gasps and lets out a loud moan.

The vibrations are borderline too much, even in the first few seconds. It’s a dull thrum, but it fills him, and feels like it’s making his heart beat faster and his hands shake.

He’s leaking, probably has been for a while, but it’s so much more than he usually does. Eddie likes to lick it up and spit it into his mouth, make him clean up his own mess.

Just the thought of Eddie doing that now, while turning up the setting on the plug, has Steve gripping the base of his cock to avoid finishing so soon. He circles his hole with one fingertip, clenching around the plug as he bumps up the setting by one.

His back arches without his permission, and tears spring to his eyes as his release shoots across his stomach. It’s heaven and hell, feeling so much while not having Eddie here to kiss him, and play with his hair, and wipe him down.

He goes from feeling better than ever to feeling short bursts of pain with pleasure, the overstimulation of the vibrations still happening almost too much. He manages to turn the vibrator off with shaking hands, but he doesn’t remove it.

“Fuck me,” he laughs as he tries to settle down enough to remove it.

He closes his eyes and sighs out.

The last thought he has before falling asleep is that he didn’t even get to actually touch his dick.

****

He wakes to a hand on his dick.

He’d panic more if he wasn’t familiar with the hand on his dick.

“Fuck, Eddie,” he moans, thankful that they have their own home, that no one ever has to hear the way he screams under Eddie’s touch. “What’re you doing home?”

“Apparently disciplining you,” he replies, voice cool, smug smile in place.

The room is dark, but Steve can see enough of him to know he’s figured out that Steve didn’t listen to his instructions. The hand on his dick is rough, no spit to glide the way. Steve winces at the drag as he speeds up.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie nips his neck. “You wanted to come so bad you couldn’t wait for me. Now I’m here. Let’s see it.”

Steve whimpers. It hurts, but it’s so good. The weight of the plug filling him up just adds to it as is whole body is jostled with Eddie’s firm movements.

“Can’t.” Steve takes a breath. “Hurts.”

“Awww, you should’ve thought about that before trying my new toy without me.”

And it’s the way he says it, my toy in that tone that makes Steve think he isn’t just talking about the vibrator. Like maybe Steve is his toy.

Steve’s gonna come. He’s certain of it.

Any moment now.

He feels his thighs tense.

Eddie’s hand is gone.

“No!” Steve cries. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

“I don’t care if you’re close, sweetheart,” his words sting as he pulls away and stares down at where the plug is hidden inside Steve. “What happened to my good boy, huh? I leave you alone for a few days and you decide to misbehave?”

Steve can’t even find words to explain himself. Eddie’s hand is back on him, but this time his fingers are pinching his nipples, twisting just enough for it to bite.

They’re gone as fast as they came and Steve’s gasping for breath, arching up into the touch while wishing Eddie would lick them to ease the burn. He’s a mess of feeling right now and it’s his own fault.

Eddie’s palm makes contact with Steve’s cheek.

It’s hot, fire against his skin. The pain of the slap barely registers as he feels his own release against his stomach.

“Would you look at that?” Eddie hums. “Who knew being so rough with you would make such a mess.”

Steve feels a tear fall from the corner of his eye, but he’s too busy coming down from his high to wipe it away.

Eddie does it for him.

It’s gentle, soft, the opposite of the slap that caused it.

“I’m gonna turn this on now,” Eddie taps the base of the plug, sending shockwaves through Steve’s nerves. “And you’re gonna get to have every setting. Or did you already do every setting?”

“No, sir,” Steve whispers, voice broken. “Just two.”

Eddie nods. “Then I think I’ll have to get two more out of you before we can stop.”

Steve whines. He’s already sore. His cock is trying to get hard again, and he can feel every shift of the plug inside him. He doesn’t even think he could have two more orgasms if Eddie turned the vibrator on the highest setting.

He thinks he might pass out.

“Color?” Eddie asks.

It doesn’t quite break the moment, but it does make Steve focus on his face.

He looks concerned, but he also looks like he’s in awe. He always kind of looks at Steve like that, like he’s amazing him just by existing, just by the noises he makes and the curve of his body.

“Green.”

Eddie kisses the corner of his mouth before he slaps his other cheek.

Steve groans and turns his face away reflexively, but Eddie grabs his jaw and makes him turn to look up at him.

“I wanna see those cheeks get red, baby. Makes your eyes so bright when you cry,” Eddie slaps him again, but Steve’s starting to feel numb. “Just like that. You know why I wanted you to wait for me?”

Steve shook his head.

“Because I know how to make everything good for you. You didn’t even tease yourself a little, did you?” Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “How am I supposed to knock you up if you try to do everything yourself?”

Steve’s cock pulses between them.

“Please. Please, sir.”

“Please, please sir,” Eddie mocks him, leaning down to grip his jaw tight. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Steve tries to say with his mouth forced open.

“Oh, I’m gonna. But what else?” Eddie moves his hand down to Steve’s throat, resting there as a threat, the kind that makes Steve’s eyes roll back in his head. “What did you beg me to do to you on the phone the other night?”

“Wanna be full of you,” Steve continues, trying to focus on what Eddie’s asking.

“Yeah, gonna fill you up so good. Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Steve nods. “Wanna have your baby.”

Eddie grins down at him as he turns the vibrator on.

He bumps it up to two immediately and Steve thinks this is a different two than the one he had on before he fell asleep. It’s sharp and too much immediately, making him squirm under Eddie’s weight. But Eddie doesn’t allow it, which just adds to the jolts of electricity going through his body.

“I’ll give you one, sweetheart. But first, you gotta be my good boy.”

Steve can do that. He can do whatever Eddie needs him to.

Eddie bumps the setting up again and it’s almost unbearable. How does anyone handle the highest setting?

Oh. Oh. It’s warm.

It feels like…

“Gonna come,” Steve warns. “Feels too good.”

“Then come, baby.”

Steve nearly screams through his orgasm and Eddie doesn’t try to quiet him. He laughs as Steve shivers from aftershocks.

He turns it up again and Steve may black out for a second. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth together and his dick stays hard.

“Too much, too much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t started without me.”

It’s probably true, but Steve’s already feeling pretty far gone.

“One more, baby boy. Think you can give me another one?”

Steve nods because he can, he knows he can. He wasn’t sure before, but Eddie’s tone makes him believe he’s capable of anything.

If Eddie tells him to come, he will. If Eddie tells him to suck him while he fucks his mouth, he’ll happily do it.

“Look at you, so sweet. You’re so beautiful when you let me take care of you. Can’t believe you thought you could do this all for yourself,” Eddie wraps his hand around Steve’s cock, barely moving it. Steve curls up and towards Eddie with the touch, whimpering at the firey pleasure piercing his stomach. “You’re mine, Stevie. My hands are the only ones who can make you feel this good, my mouth, my cock, my toy.”

Steve’s chest is heaving as Eddie turns the vibrator up to the highest setting.

Words aren’t happening anymore.

Steve thinks he comes, but he can’t be sure.

He’s tingly and weightless, and he thinks if Eddie gets off of him, he’ll fly away.

The plug is gone and Steve whines at the loss. He tries to shove his own fingers inside himself, wants to keep feeling full, but Eddie slaps his wrist.

“That’s mine. Hands up.”

Steve listens because he decided being good is probably better for getting what he wants. Plus, Eddie’s fingers are inside him, four of them he thinks. It burns a little, but it’s not something Steve can complain about past the noises he’s making.

He wouldn’t anyways, not when he knows what he’s getting next.

Eddie slaps his cock.

Maybe he didn’t know what he was getting. He yelps, his eyes shoot open, and he stares at Eddie in shock.

He’s still hard, but it hurts.

“Color?” Eddie asks again, because this is new, and he always asks when he does something new. Even if they’ve talked about it, even if Steve assured him he would say red if he didn’t like it.

The pain was already gone, replaced with an overwhelming need to come. Eddie’s fingers were pressing against his prostate, making him forget about the slap entirely.

“Green, sir, again.”

“Good boy,” Eddie grins as he slaps his cock again, harder. “You like being slapped around? Like when I make you red all over? Look at your dick, baby.”

Steve does. It’s an angry red, almost purple, and he still has cum leaking from the tip. It twitches against his stomach when Eddie grabs it and rubs his thumb across the soaked slit.

Steve is panting, sure that there’s no way he could handle more.

“Gonna give you what you want now.”

Eddie’s cock is pretty average in length, but it’s thick, and he got it pierced a while back. It drives Steve absolutely crazy.

But four fingers stretched him out enough that Eddie’s cock entering him is just a dull ache.

“There you go, baby. That feel good? You feel full now?” Eddie asks as he lets more of his weight fall on top of Steve. Steve is by far the heavier of the two, but he loves when Eddie surrounds him like this.

But he doesn’t feel full yet. He shakes his head.

“No? What else do you need?” Eddie knows exactly what he needs, and he knows Steve is so far gone that talking is damn near impossible at this point. “You need to suck something? My fingers maybe?”

Steve shakes his head. Maybe next time.

“Need your cum.”

Eddie groans as he starts fucking into Steve faster, making the bedframe hit the wall behind them. They really need to look into getting something to dull the noise. They’ll never be able to do anything when they have guests over at this rate.

“That’s all you need, sweet boy? Just need me to fill you up, put the plug in, make sure nothing leaks out so you can give me a baby?” Eddie is breathless now, stomach and arms tense as he holds himself at the perfect angle to hit the oversensitive bundle of nerves inside Steve.

“Mhm, gonna-” Steve moans. “Gonna give you a baby. All the babies. Ten babies.”

Steve feels Eddie’s warm breath against his neck.

“Ten’s a lot, sweetheart,” he laughs against his neck before placing a gentle kiss over his moles. “You gonna come for me again?”

Steve nods, but he isn’t sure he can. He can barely even feel his cock anymore, so he’s not sure he’s got anything left in the tank.

Eddie moans against his jaw, hips stuttering to a much slower rhythm as he comes. Steve feels the warmth inside him, can already feel it dripping out. He whines at the loss.

“I know, baby,” Eddie wipes at a stray tear as he pulls back, but not out. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

Steve thinks he comes. He’s pretty sure he passes out, too.

When his eyes open again, Eddie’s holding him, playing with his hair and humming softly. He’s still sweaty, but he doesn’t have any cum dried on him. The plug is snug inside him, holding as much of Eddie inside as possible.

“With me, Stevie?” Eddie whispers. It’s the quietest moment they’ve shared since he woke up to Eddie in bed with him.

“Kinda.”

Eddie’s hand brushes up and down his back, fingers poking gently into his spine.

“Can’t believe you didn’t wait for me.”

“Was nervous,” Steve yawns.

“Is it okay?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods against his chest. “Really okay.”

“You’re gonna be sore later.”

“‘S okay. Feel full.”

“We gonna talk about the ten babies thing?” Eddie asks, not judging, never judging, just curious.

“Gonna give you ten babies. ‘S what I said,” Steve is too tired to stay awake.

“Might be difficult with our current anatomy, but we can give it an honest try,” Eddie is laughing softly as he talks.

“Try again later,” Steve barely mumbles out before he drifts back to sleep.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello, how are you? Can I request a Nightlight application in Transformers One? Nightlight works for Sentinel Prime. In this universe, she sympathizes with the lower classes and is dedicated to trying to convince Sentinel Prime to improve things. Nightlight becomes friends with D-16 Orion Pax Eliata One and Bumblebee?

I definitely want to do a longer version of this later in the future. Or possible a part 2, which ever comes first.

Hope you enjoy!

TF1 Version of Nightlight

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

TF1

Nightlight considered herself one of the luckier bots in Iacon.

She had a stable job and got to work under most of Sentinel Prime’s direct orders.

Not many bots could say they often talked to the Prime on a daily basis.

He was the bot everyone wanted or wanted to be.

She could only hope the mech that seemed larger than life could get behind her ‘passion project’.

Nightlight straightening her backstruts, puts on her best smile and salutes to the incoming Prime. Nightlight: “Good morning, Sentinel Prime, sir.” Sentinel smiles at the detective. Sentinel: “Nightlight, my friend. How’s my best detective doing today?” Nightlight passing him some data slugs. Nightlight: “The missing archive collection has been found and safely put back in its rightful place, sir. Also the missing bot cases have been solved and filed.” Sentinel: “And the—” Nightlight: “The cargo hold carts are still under repairs and under investigation as we speak.” Sentinel: “Good, good, take the rest of the day off then, you earned it.” Nightlight: “Actually sir, I was wondering if we could talk about the conditions of the miners—” Sentinel puts a servo out motioning her to be quiet. Sentinel: “Nightlight, Nightlight, Nightlight. How many times do we have to go through with this little ‘passion project’ of yours? The miners will get more accommodation when they reach more of the energon goals set. It’s only fair, no?” Nightlight: “But sir, wouldn’t they work better, faster even, if they had better conditions or equipment—” Arachnid suddenly appears on their right. Arachnid: “Sir, it is time to go.” Sentinel gives the detective a ‘sorry’ smile. Sentinel: “Its time for me to leave. Keep up the good work Nightlight!” Nightlight was about to protest when she was cut off by Arachnid staring at her as the pair left the room.

Her project started the day she met a peculiar pair of miners.

She was responding to an alert of an unauthorized miner entering the Archives.

Nightlight watched from afar Darkwing and another guard chasing this one cogless miner bot.

And quite frankly, he was giving the guards a run for their shanix.

She noticed another miner causing a distraction with his cart while the other escaped the guards.

The pair then met up in one of the train stations, probably to go back to work.

It was quite entertaining honestly.

Later, she went back to the Archive’s to see what exactly the miner was looking through.

It surprised her the number of data slugs he had gone through in relation to the Matrix.

One of Cybertron’s biggest mysteries.

She needed more answers.

Eventually, Nightlight got clearance to ‘supervise’ some miners for a shift.

That’s where she met Elita-One

Elita saluting at the taller bot. Elita: “Nightlight ma’am!” Nightlight: “Oh, just Nightlight will do… umm…” Elita still saluting: “Elita-One ma’am—I mean—” Nighlight: “Its all right. Do you mind giving me the tour then?” Elita: “Of course! Follow me!”

While doing the tour, Nightlight was making a mental list of things to improve.

She hadn’t been down in the mines before and already couldn’ imagine working down here for long hours and with rusting equipment.

Out of the corner of her optic, she spotted Darkwing punching two familiar looking miners.

When the tour was down and Elita had to go back to her team, Nightlight slipped into the miner’s medbay.

After scaring some bots, she finally found the two miners.

D-16 and Orion both looked at her in shock and amaze. Orion: “You’re Nightlight!” D-16: “The Nightlight! You solved several cases and foiled several assassinations attempts of several bots, including Sentinel Prime’s!” Nightlight feels a bit flustered by the sudden fan behavior. Nightlight: “Yeah, that’s me. And you two are the sneaky miner’s who snuck into the Archieve’s and got away with it.” Both mech’s suddenly looked frightened. Nightlight: “Relax, I’m not taking you in or punishing you two. It was actually the most entertaining things that happened on my shift in a while.” Orion and D-16’s optics widen. Orion: “You saw all that? But from where? The crowds weren’t that busy and there was no hiding places nearby?” D-16: “Do you have any cloaking technology?” Nightlight: “What? No, and to answer your question, I was simply observing from afar.” Nightlight shows the pair some grappling hooks in her arm plating. Nightlight: “These come in handy when you don’t have a flying alt mode or jetpack nearby.” D-16: “Primus…” Orion: “Wait, wait, if you’re not punishing us, then what are you here for?” Nightlight slips into a grim expression. Nightlight: “I originally came in to ask you about your snooping around for data slugs on the Matrix… instead I just found out today your working conditions and I don’t like it one bit.

Nightlight explained that she would straight to Sentinel himself and talk to him about getting them better working conditions.

 Truthfully D-16 and Orion thought this was a lie… but his was Nightlight they were talking about.

Maybe a little bit of faith would help.

Surely enough the miners started to notice some of the older equipment getting replaced with new ones.

They even had an extra hour of sleep and a bit more rations.

This did not satisfy Nightlight though.

She wanted more.

The detective started taking on bigger assignments in order to get on Sentinel’s personal circle.

She might have better luck in getting the miner’s more things that way.

Soon Nightlight started making her way into the mines without authorization.

Something was up, she could feel it.

Not only did she find out that the improvements had halted, but Sentinel was making more and more trips to the surface.

It was enough bells to set her off.

Especially hearing about 10 more sublevels under waste management.

So, Nightlight did the thing she did best, investigate.

Nightlight enters one of the waste trains cargo carts. Suddenly gets her blaster out hearing yelling behind her. The door opens revealing Orion, D-16, Elita and B-127. The detective looks at them in surprise. Nightlight: “What in Primus’s name is going on! Orion! D! Elita! B!” Elita:”Ma’am! I caught these bots trespassing!” D-16: “Wait, how do you know B?” B-127 waves at the detective. B-127: “Hi!” Nightlight: “He gave me some information on the sublevels under waste management. Now someone explain what—” Elita sprints past her. Elita: “Sorry ma’am! I need to turn this train around!” Orion and the others run after her. Nightlight blinks a bit before joining the chase. Nightlight: “This is what you get for making friends who are younger than you Nightlight… always running off… I swear… I need to listen to Ratchet next time I go out without my long-distance com link…” Nightlight starts climbing the trains railing to reach the others. Nightlight: “The one day I don’t bring my extra long grappling hook… I won’t be surprised if I see Alpha Trion at this point…”

[billthedrake]

I've been wanting to write a chubby chaser story for a while, and this is what I came up with. It's not everyone's cup of tea, I know, but for those into it, I hope to do a follow up to go deeper.

CHASER BAIT

I reracked the weights and sat up on the bench. I'd have a better workout with a spotter, but I also enjoyed the quiet of the Stanford weight room at moments like this. It was summer session, and the football team was starting their summer pre-season camp. I'd have some consultations with a number of the athletes later on that afternoon, but for now they were all in a morning-long meeting.

All except for one.

"Hey Coach," came the familiar voice, though it took me a half second to place it. But I looked up to see Tyler Mills, all 6 foot 3 of him. Tyler was must have been a senior now. I'd worked a lot with him in his sophomore year, after he got his knee banged up pretty bad and had to rehab after surgery.

"Tyler," I said. "How's it going, man? How's the knee?"

I saw a look of sadness sweep behind the bright affable smile. "OK, I guess," he said, shuffling some on his feet. He was wearing shorts and an oversized Stanford T, and even beneath the draping shirt, I could tell that trim, buff Tyler Mills had put on a few pounds. "A lot better, actually, but I'm not on the roster now. They still let me come get a work out in, you know, hang out with the guys."

My heart ached for the guy. They hadn't taken away his scholarship, but the injury had taken away his football dreams.

I gave a sympathetic nod but mostly flashed a buddy kind of smile. "You know, if you want me to take a look at your knee, I can."

I was surprised by the flash of thrill in his brown eyes. "For real?" Then catching himself, he added, "I don't want you to have to do anything you're not supposed to, Coach."

I wasn't one of the main coaching staff. Instead I'd been brought in to do a combination of strength coaching and physical therapy for all the big Stanford teams, but football especially. Half the jocks called me Mr. Carson, half just Coach C. Tyler was in the Coach camp.

"You can see how busy I am right now," I joked, gesturing around to the near empty weight room. "How's this? You can spot me for the next couple of sets, and then we'll go get set up in the back room."

He bounded over behind the rack like an excited puppy.

He wasn't the only thing excited. I had to will my cock to stay soft or at least normal sized as I lay back and could see up into that oversized shirt. Tyler Mills had a classic ex-jock beer belly. Probably a solid twenty pounds that hung in a perfectly round swell just over the hem of his shorts.

I channeled that flash of lust into a great set, even with the extra weight. And I forced myself to be normal as I made small talk with Tyler as I rested a second.

Most of the time I'm professional as can be. I'm an out and proud gay dude, even if I keep a low profile at work. Even though I'm around very in-shape young athletes, there's generally not my type. It took a number of years to fully admit it, and many more years to fully explore it, but I'm a chubby chaser. A couple of the D-line guys have the girth that might capture my attention, but generally I was safe, no matter how hands-on I might be in my job.

Tyler Mills wasn't a chub, but something about that belly made that sense of safety go out the window.

He spotted me for a max-weight rep, then encouraged me like I was one of his gym buddies. "Beast!" he grunted.

I rubbed out the soreness then stood up from the bench. If I didn't know better, I would have thought Tyler was looking at me in that way, but he made some comment about how in shape I was. "You're definitely giving me goals, Coach," he said.

I was in shape. I'd been a lacrosse player at Maryland and after doing some personal training after college, I'd gone for my PhD in kinesiology. I was now religious about working out and eating right. I was 39 and not going to enter my 40s without doing my damnedest to resist getting older.

I led Tyler back to the room that was set up with a table and some basic rehab equipment - bands, small weights, balancing balls and the like.

I had him get on the table and asked him to update me.

"I've been doing my exercises, Coach," he said. "Maybe not religiously, but you know..."

I nodded and sat down in a chair next to the table. I was thankful for the XXL T-shirt and the way it didn't show off Tyler's belly. Tyler's legs were still big and tautly muscled.

"You able to do leg day now?" I asked, my hands massaging the right quad muscle and working down to knee.

"Yeah," he said. "With some adaptation."

"How's this feel?" I asked. A year and a half ago, the wide receiver would be wincing in pain the moment I touched anywhere near his knee.

"Normal," he said. He was looking down at me seriously, and I could tell the memories of our earlier rehab sessions were coming back to him.

I worked closer to the joint and pressed in with my fingers.

"Oh!" he gasped. "That hurts."

I let go and massaged down his calf. Then back up to the hamstrings. His legs were hairier than last time I'd had a PT session with him. I loved how soft his light brown fur was.

"Your hamstrings are way tight," I observed.

I pulled back and patted his thigh. "All right, let's do some simple body weight squats."

I worked him through a number of diagnostic exercises. He did them well, but quickly we found where his range of motion was compromised and the spots that gave him a sore pain.

He looked at me expectantly. The ex-jock had a soft scruffy beard now, kept trimmed, and he looked about five years older than when I last worked with him. But he still was young and had that innocence to his face.

"I can give you some new exercises to work on," I said. "What do you think of a weekly PT session... to check in?"

That surprised Tyler. "God, Coach, that would be incredible."

"It'd have to be bright and early," I said. The Athletics Department had a full day for me, and I knew I couldn't prioritize a kid not on the roster. But I could take an earlier train. I was probably crazy to volunteer this, but I was thinking with my dick, I knew. Besides, Tyler was a nice guy. One of those jocks who could be a beast on the football field but a sweetie off.

"I got nothing else going on, Coach," he agreed affably.

I gave him a bro-ish fist bump and told him I should get back to my workout. I had only twenty minutes or so before the morning team huddles were over.

The whole ride home I was questioning myself. Certainly my professionalism was going out the window. But at least Tyler Mills wasn't on the roster. And I really was helping the guy out.

I got home and even though I was hungry for dinner, I set down my keys and went to my bedroom, where a comfy bed and some lube was ready for a quick stroke. I kicked off my shoes and pushed down my joggers. My prick was already ready, jerking up into a rigid spike as I pulled down the covers. A couple of squirts in my palm was just the right amount for a good JO. I lay back and visualized Tyler Mills' belly. That twenty pound belly sticking out above me. I imagined him lifting his shirt for me, showing off that magnificent round girth, that ex-jock gut.

I shot hard.

****

I spend my teen years in denial and my college years sure that I was majorly fucked up for my kink. I'd grown up in a small town, with a bunch of Southern bubbas and men who were just big guys. My high school football coach, the vice principal, the neighbor dad next door, my boss at my summer job. Men who were thick all over but especially their bellies. They were the stars of my masturbation fantasies. To this day, I have a fetish for big guts filling out a button-down and hanging over a pair of khakis, especially framed by a Sunday-best blue blazer.

I moved away, away from the Southern bubbas and even from blue blazer country. But I eventually made peace with the fact I was almost exclusively into overweight guys. I discovered chubby porn and the chub/chaser subculture. I had my first real job with the Packers organization, learning and apprenticing there before getting a promotion. There was a lot of Wisconsin beef around that was fun to look at, but I didn't get to play with big guys as much as I wanted. I'd take trips to the city, to Chicago especially, where I lined up new chubs to fuck each visit.

I was in demand, too, as a chaser. Most chasers tend to be either twink-thin, or else have mild bellies themselves. I actually tried to gain weight once, until I realized that I had better luck attracting chubs with a fit, muscular jock body.

I started doing videos and developed a following. It was my man whore period. I wasn't always nice to the chubs I fucked. I regret that, and I took some time to learn how to be better. It was a tricky song and dance. I was attracted to them for who they were, but the power differential was a real turn on for me, too.

I got the job at Stanford and moved to San Francisco. It was incredible. I dated casually and slept around a lot. I got to know some fellow chasers, who became friends and competition all at once. Even in a big city, the chub/chaser scene could feel incestuous.

I had one experience with a superchub, a genuinely obese guy. It freaked me out a little, actually, but it was also thrilling to try it. It felt taboo as fuck.

But lately my lust swung the other direction. I got tired of the "chub" look and began getting more into regular guys. I'll call 'em dadbod-plus. Men with big beer bellies who reminded me of some of the hometown bubbas. I had about three off-and-on fuckbuds, mostly married guys from the Bay Area who'd come in, plus an occasional businessman hookup.

Life was good.

****

Or at least I thought it was good until Tyler Mills.

Something about that college senior got under my skin. He wasn't even that big. On his muscular 6'3" body, he carried that bulk well. And compared to the men I normally slept with, Tyler was actually kind of normal.

It was the third PT session when I asked him what his goals were.

He blushed. "To lose weight," he said. "I guess I got kind of depressed last year and put on some pounds."

I gulped. That horny knot was forming in my chest but I tried not to be weird. "It happens," I said nonchalantly.

"Not to you," Tyler beamed. His eyes sweeping up and down my 6-foot-and-buff body. "You're an inspiration, Coach." Then as he did a one-legged dip, he asked, "You got a girlfriend or anything?... Sorry, that's really fucking nosey."

"It's all right," I assured him. "No boyfriend," I said pointedly. If Mills was going to ask about my personal life, he could deal with the answer. "Maybe I'm not the dating type."

I expected surprise, but the former footballer was doing his best to act cool. "Like I said... sorry for being nosey, Coach."

Still Tyler had a more relaxed posture and his eyes seemed to be seeking out something from me. Approval, an opening, or something.

"I sometimes think it would be easier to be straight," he said.

It was my turn to be surprised. I know I didn't hide it well. Tyler grinned as he noticed.

"How so?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Girls can be into the whole teddy bear thing," he said like he'd been giving a lot of thought to it. Maybe he had. "Gay dudes have pretty high expectations."

My hands were on his waist now as I assisted his body weight squat. I really wanted to actively feel up the love handles but kept my calm.

"Can I give some real talk, Tyler?" I offered softly.

"Sure thing, Coach." I could tell he was nervous about what I was going to say.

"There are a lot of men open to some extra girth..." I said, letting that idea sink in. "And even if not... a guy doesn't have to be a chaser to go for a good looking dude like you."

"Oh," he said. I'd said the wrong thing.

"You know what a chaser is?" I asked.

I could see Tyler blush. "Yeah," he said. He seemed almost sullen now. "You think I'm a fat guy, Coach?"

"Hardly," I said. Trying to keep my lust in check, since I knew I was dealing with a fine young man's real emotions. "God's truth. And there are plenty of guys who'd be into the ex-jock package."

I'd probably said the wrong thing there, too, since I knew Tyler felt bad he was no longer playing. But he perked up. "Yeah? I should get up to the city sometime." He paused before admitting, "Before I got injured... I met some guys online. It was fun."

"You're, what, 21? You should be having some fun, Tyler," I said. I didn't even mean it to be lecherous. But this young man deserved to have sex.

"Thanks, Coach, for the pep talk."

I patted his shoulder. Trying to make it a normal pat. "Any time. You know... I know you don't need me to show you around, but if you're ever up the city and want to hang out...."

I half regretted saying that, but you don't hit the shots you don't take. And my cock was definitely running the show.

"Yeah, Coach," Tyler said.

****

We'd wrapped up the PT session as normal. He had my cell number to text, but I was't going to push anything. I'd laid it out there, and Tyler could decide if he wanted to come into the city. He probably thought I was making a platonic offer, kind of a mentor big gay brother thing. I'd do that, too.

A week later I got a text to see if I was up for company on Saturday afternoon. I cleared my plans and moved my Saturday workout earlier.

Tyler looked like a million bucks when I met him for a late lunch. Gone was the oversized T shirt and he had on one of his older shirts that stretched snugly across the beer belly. Tyler Mills still wasn't in chub territory, but I had underestimated how much the guy had packed on his mid-section. Even if Tyler and I didn't fool around, I'd have a great JO with that visual.

Better was how the guy seemed to be more comfortable in his skin. We grabbed tacos in the Mission and hung out in the park. Even from behind his sun glasses Tyler seemed to be eyeing me up. I guess my own snug T-shirt and shorts were showing off my buff build to good effect.

"Can I ask a personal question, Coach?"

"You can call me Steve," I said. "And sure."

His smile grew serious. "Are you a chubby chaser?"

I thought of not telling him the truth, but I'd spent too long not embracing that part of me. I didn't like lying about my kink now. "Yeah, I am, Tyler."

He expected that answer but maybe not the direct confidence with which I answered him. He was letting it sink in. "I wouldn't have thought... a guy like you."

I shrugged. "I was about your age when I realized I could become the man I wanted to have sex with. Or be the man who'd get the guys I wanted to have sex with."

"Do all those chubby guys..." he lowered his voice. "Go for thinner dudes?"

"Not all," I assured him. "And some like more twinky types. But I do pretty well."

"I bet," Tyler said. Then catching himself, added, "Sorry Coach... Steve."

I laughed. "Am I freaking you out, buddy?"

"It's weird," he said. "Especially if you think of me that way." Leave it to this sweet jock to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

I gave him the most reassuring look I could. "You're not a chub," I said. "And it's not about labels... actually lately I've gotten more into regular guys with a little extra around the middle."

That seemed to put him at ease. He leaned back and nodded down to his stomach.

"Like mine?" he asked.

My dick was chubbing up. No stopping it. "You have no idea."

"I guess I had a little," he admitted. "After our last conversation. It got me going online," he chuckled. "I decided to wear something tighter fitting."

I tried not to sound like a creep. "I've very glad you did, Tyler."

That made him smile. "You know, this is the first time I've felt sexy in two years."

"You are sexy," I assured him. "Sexy as fuck."

"Coming from you, Steve, that's amazing." He spread his legs out some and seemed to be showing his gut off for me.

I wanted to kiss him, bad. But my greater head prevailed. "You know, in my position..." I started.

Tyler seemed almost scared of my rejection. "I wouldn't tell anyone, Coach. Promise."

This was going to happen. "Wanna come back to my place?"

He nodded like an excited kid. God, Mills was adorable as fuck.

We were both smiling goofy grins as we made out way to my condo.

"Nice place, Steve," he said as he looked around. "Hopefully I can move to the city after graduation."

"You should," I said. "You'd have a blast."

That made him smile. He stepped up to me, waiting for me to take the rest of the initiative. I did, pulling Tyler into me and claiming a soft kiss. Even if I wasn't the dating type, I was very much the kissing type.

This ex-baller was too. He responded with soft caresses of his tongue against mine, gently sucking me into his mouth before pushing back.

Meanwhile, my fingers were tracing beneath the hem of his shirt. I'd dreamed of touching Tyler Mills' gut for weeks now, and I was now doing it. His belly was firm and fat at the same time. I was rock hard and moaned into his mouth.

For his part Tyler was feeling me up, my arms, my chest, my back. He was just as turned on as I was.

I pulled him back, silently stepping us back toward the bedroom. We wouldn't make it all the way there that way, but Tyler got the idea. Breaking the kiss, he let me lead the way.

I think I gasped when he pulled that shirt off. The chest and arms and shoulders were football solid - Tyler hadn't neglected his weight training - but the belly was round and heaved as he undid his shorts and peeled them down.

My cock was hard and I enjoyed Tyler's gaze on my naked body as I got into bed first. He was actually showing off his belly to me as he got in on the other side.

Our mouths met and we both responded to each other's nakedness with an amped up fervor. I could now feel Tyler's thick dick below, humping into my hip. We made out hungrily, and felt each other up and lived out several weeks of pent-up lust. It was all coming out forcefully.

Particularly as Tyler rolled his big body on top of mine and began kissing along my neck, his hardon humping into me and his hands holding me down gently. I'd experienced this before with guys I hadn't met online. The wrestling for top bunk. Tyler Mills wanted to fuck me.

I was 90 percent top, but I wanted to give Tyler his wish. He needed the confidence boost, I decided, and his bulk felt pretty damn nice on top of me.

I felt his love handles getting more and more excited to take this ex-wide receiver's dick.

"Can you give me fifteen minutes, bud?" I asked. "I can get cleaned out for you."

I wasn't sure of Tyler Mill's experience, but he wasn't totally green. His eyes lit up. "Oh yeah." He rolled off me, letting me get off the bed and to the master bathroom.

I cleaned out and showered off and came out to see the college guy waiting expectantly, his prick not having gone down a bit. Tyler wasn't hung overly long but it was a decently thick tool that looked amazing riding up the swell of his beer belly. Mills might not have been a chub but I had a flash of excitement imagining him getting bigger.

"God Steve, you're amazing." He gave his prick a couple of tugs as I got into bed again.

"You too stud. Fuck."

I could see that confidence boost working on Tyler. Two years of injury and recovery and depression had taken a toll on the guy, but the fact I wanted him, really wanted him, had him brightening up visibly.

We kissed again, hungrily, and Tyler unleashed the inner beast. His kisses were more fevered against my neck and chest and even lower.

I lifted my legs back. Tyler wasn't skilled in rimming but he loved going hog wild. That worked for me. It had been too long since I'd had my ass eaten, and the fact it was this young big-bellied stud doing it had me wanting to put out.

I finally handed him some lube. His grin was big as he flipped the lid and began prepping me with his fingers. Eyes on my body and my face more than my hole.

"You do this much, Coach?" he asked with heavy lust.

I shook my head. "Usually I'm top," I said. "But I want you in me bud."

That made his prick jerk. He was so horny but also wanting to be respectful. He now worked in two and three fingers in me in alternation. My hole was feeling good.

"We, um, need protection or something?" he asked.

"I have some," I answered. I had one married fuckbud who insisted on condoms. "But I'm on PREP and get tested."

"Fuck," he hissed. He pulled back his fingers and slathered the excess lube onto this cock. Before I could react he was scooting up and stuffing it into my hole.

"Easy!" I urged. The entry was quick.

"Sorry," he said. He was clearly carried away. But now he held steady.

I looked up at him, his scruffy handsome face and his strong build and that round gut. And I opened right up for Mr. Mills.

"Fuck!" I hissed as his slick bone slid into me. "Yes..."

"God Coach," he grunted.

We weren't verbal. I don't know if Tyler was naturally the verbal type. But we didn't need sex talk. We were both in thrall with the other's bodies. Tyler's round 20-pounds of gut flesh swelling out between my spread legs, jiggling slightly as his whole body thrust into me. Maybe I should bottom more, I thought, because my insides felt alive at that moment. Not just my p-spot but all of it.

Tyler was cumming before I knew it, his face hardening into a determined top face as he drove in faster to get his nut. It was intense, but in a good way. I jerked my dick and rode the crest of my own orgasm.

We were hyperventilating as we uncoupled.

"Damn," he hissed. Resting his head on my shoulder and snuggling up to me. "Thanks for that."

I kissed his forehead. "Thank you, stud... I needed that more than I realized."

He smiled, and leaned forward for a kiss. I was happy to give him one.

We lay in bed and talked about men and sex and life. I didn't give him my whole life story, but Tyler got some hints about what being a chaser meant for me. He was still dealing with the closet and learning about sex beyond porn.

****

We had a mini affair, until Tyler got freaked out. I think some of it was wanting to play the field. But he still didn't like thinking of himself as fat and didn't like that's the part of him that I responded to.

I said something that triggered him, but it was probably bound to happen anyway. He stopped answering my texts, and if he came into the city, it wasn't to see me.

My fortieth birthday came and went. I wondered what I was doing with my life. Maybe it was time to become the dating type. But I had two fuckbuds on the regular now. A big extra-beefy coach from South Bay and a pot-bellied married guy from the suburbs. Occasionally I got DMs on my old twitter account, and I hooked up with a couple of chubs who came to town. I heard from a superchub who was a big fan of my old videos, but I wasn't sure I wanted that experience again.

I didn't expect a text out of the blue. But one spring day, Tyler texted me. "How you doing, Coach?"

It was the right text at the right time. I perked up at my desk. "Doing well. How about you Tyler?"

"Can't complain." Then "Sorry I went no contact."

"No expectations," I said. "For real."

"Cool." A minute passed then. "Can I see you sometime?"

"I'm out of town the next couple of weeks," I wrote. Spring Break was coming up, and I had a vacation tripped planned. "But I'm around after."

"Nice. I'll reach out."

****

We picked up right where we left off. Sort of. When Tyler showed up at my place, he was bigger. The twenty pound gut had become a thirty pound gut. He had some amazing genetics that concentrated the extra fat into his belly. He wore a polo shirt that showed off the round swell to good effect.

"Hey," he said with a nervous smile as I led him in. He was clean shaven now, and as adorable as ever. The baseball cap topped off the collegiate look, but I playfully took it off him and tossed it aside before leaning in.

Our kiss was soft. I grunted as I felt his hard-soft stomach press against my flat one.

I wasn't sure what to expect but as we made out and pawed at each other, I knew we were going to have sex. First thing.

"Bedroom?" I asked.

Tyler nodded excitedly. "Yeah. One of these days I'd love to do it elsewhere... try every room in your place."

I pawed at my crotch. "You look so hot, Tyler," I grunted.

He grinned and puffed out his chest some. Gone was the kid shy about his weight. At least for now. "I tried to lose weight Coach, but figured, fuck it."

My fingers were now tugging at that polo shirt. Tyler helped me take it off the rest of the way. His chest was meaty as ever and that just made his big gut hotter. I openly ran my hands over all of it, shoulders to stomach and back. Tyler relaxed and let me.

"I've never been fucked, Steve," he said.

My hands paused. "Yeah?" I asked expectantly.

Tyler was nervous as fuck. I got that. "I've been thinking about it. A lot."

My hands more gently massaged him. Not in a chub chaser kind of way, more in a reassuring caress kind of way. "I've broken guys in before," I said softly. "I know what I'm doing." God at that moment I knew I'd kill to get into Tyler Mills' ex-jock hole.

He gave me a playful grin. "I know... I, um, came across some of your vids, Coach," he said. "Actually a lot of them."

I blushed. I don't even know why. But it was a part of my life that was kind of behind me. "Hope you liked them."

He nodded. "I thought of being one of those guys you did." That impish look grew stronger. "Damn, some of those guys are BIG too," he laughed. "You really are into that."

I nodded. But patted his stomach which was still hard-fat but had more give these days. "You're more my speed for now, Mills," I grinned. I don't know why his last name came out, it just felt right.

Our lips were softer touching again. But Tyler's hands fumbled with my jeans and greedily reached in to grip my boner. He had a good touch. I suspect Tyler had fooled around with other men over the last year-plus. I was glad.

"You're big," he finally said as we broke. Tyler was looking down at the cock in his fist.

"Not too big, Tyler," I said.

He thought about it. "I jerked off so much to your vids. Just watching you..."

I patted his arm. All solid. "The real thing will be hotter," I said.

He crouched down in front of me. Tyler wasn't going to suck me to completion. I wasn't going to let him. But from our previous affair, I knew he could. Slowly he sucked down several inches and worked up a nice, slow bob. I enjoyed the foreplay and finally pulled him up.

Then returned the favor. I love sucking a fat guy, feeling the belly press against my forehead as I work my mouth closer to the base of the dick. Tyler now had enough to let me know I had some real girth on my hands.

I finally spit out his cock. "Turn around," I urged.

Tyler had a football player's ass. Round, hard but not a bubble but. Tyler was just now starting to get the fullness a fat dude has, particularly along the upper part of the glutes where they meet the love handles circling around the lower back.

It drove me wild. I parted those muscle buns and dove in. Licking up and down that lightly furry trench.

"Yes," Tyler hissed. He clearly loved having his ass eaten. He liked it even more when I really went at it, drilling in with my tongue. Tyler was clean as a whistle, and I knew he'd prepped for me.

He now leaned over which made those love handles squish some. I growled into that hole and ate him out more eagerly.

I finally pulled out. I slid my finger along the spit wet trench but not penetrating him. "I'll take it easy, stud. But I gotta get inside you."

He nodded. His nerves coming back. But he accepted my kiss when I stood up and let me guide him back to my room.

"I'm at 240 now," he boasted as he got into my bed.

Between the videos and that admission, I realized Tyler had absorbed at least some of the chub/chaser kink, at least enough to use it to turn me on.

"Incredible," I said. I grabbed some lube and fisted my cock, in full view of Tyler's hungry gaze. "I hope you're feeling good about your body."

"Yes and no," he answered truthfully. "But I'm really glad you like it."

"You have no idea, buddy," I said.

"I have some idea," he replied, glancing at my cock.

We kissed and embraced. I felt him up but no more than he gripped my toned bulked muscle. I applied more lube to my fingers worked them in between his buns. Probing and teasing until it felt right to enter him.

He hissed but I could tell he enjoyed it. Our faces were close and our bodies touched as he angled his beefed-out body so I could get access. I took advantage. One finger, then another. Slowly working him open. Eyes locked on his the whole time.

"Feel good?" I asked.

"Yes, Coach."

A third finger pushed in. It was a lot for Tyler, but after a minute I could tell that was feeling good too.

"Can I ride you?" he asked.

"It's actually tougher for the first time that way," I explained. "Let me take the cherry and then we can do whatever position you want. OK?"

He seemed to trust me. So I guided him on his back, that round stomach perfectly resting. I slid a pillow beneath his hips and rested his legs on my shoulder. He was nervous now, but I fingered him some more. Like five minutes more, before I lined up and pressed in.

He gritted his teeth and winced but the feeling didn't hurt like he expected. I took my time then finally pressed past the tightness of those first three inches.

Tyler's eyes opened. THIS felt good to him. I slowly pumped, my movements gentle even as my eyes fixed his with a controlling gaze. Silently urging the ex-jock to take my dick.

He relaxed into the fuck, a look of gratitude on his face. I was showing Tyler a new way to be a man.

I pumped out some lube on to his palm and when he stroked in rhythm to my stokes, the lightbulb really went off.

"I can feel it," he said. "My prostate."

I fucked harder now, and the guy nodded up with excitement, his hand going faster on his thick dick. His belly jiggled now which was going to get me off, soon.

"You like my body," he said. Or maybe asked.

"I love it. Love fucking that thick ex-jock body, Tyler."

"I thought you might prefer me bigger," he hissed, softly. Embarrassed at the admission.

I didn't care. He was getting me out of control. I pounded him, making all that excess flesh move and jiggle wildly. His face turned red then his whole body and I watched streams of cum jet out in thick ropes onto that beer belly.

I nutted. Matching Tyler's cumload size, deep inside his once-virgin ass.

Later, as we showered and made out, I told him that just was about the hottest sex I'd ever hard. I wasn't exaggerating.

He leaned into my hands as I worked the suds over his girthy flesh, trying not to fixated on his midsection.

"I know you're not the dating type, Coach, but can we go on a date some time?" he asked.

I gave him a kiss. Not quick, not slow. "It's the least you deserve, Mills," I replied. My cock chubbing up a little again.

[fireya-x]

floral misdelivery

AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist

Overwhelmed by the task of gifting his mother flowers, John makes a mistake that turns into a chance to show you, his assistant, what you really mean to him.

[2k words]

cw: none

John Price hated staying late at night at his office, but his work was always unpredictable. He was sitting hunched over his desk, hitting keys on your laptop. It was almost as if you were with him in spirit, the digital ghost of your organized world reminding him of your meticulous efficiency. He couldn’t help but smile, noticing the photo you chose as a wallpaper, a group photo of the 141, that you insisted on taking to commemorate the success of your last mission. In it, you were standing next to Price, who had one arm around your shoulder, as you both grinned at the camera. You looked happy, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something about you was different when you were around him. You seemed more relaxed, more lively. It was something that kept him calm during even the most stressful times.

Notifications would constantly pop up on your device, supposed to remind you about everything the 141 had to do - reminding John about the tremendous help you provided for them and Kate Laswell. Sometimes he wondered if they put too much work on you, with everything going on, but you never complained when asked about it. Quite the opposite, you would tell John that you loved doing everything you could to just take some work off of their shoulders. 

He admired that about you. Looking for an assistant was something he had reluctantly done, because of all the sensitive information being passed around — but he had grown to being able to trust you with his life, like he did with every member of his team. You proved to be loyal, sometimes too much so. Calls at three in the morning made John feel awful, especially. But you picked up the phone nonetheless, sounding ready for whatever was thrown at you. Even if it was just digging through some files for a report that had to be done in the morning.

John Price's gruff exterior, the one that made him the leader he was, often masked a heart full of gratitude. There were many nights when the weight of his decisions, the burden of leadership, and the relentless fight against shadows made him feel utterly alone. Yet, you were always there, not just as his assistant but as a constant, calming presence. There was a warmth, a comfort he found in your competence, a feeling that whatever storm they were facing, you had their back.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a particular notification caught his eye. And he froze. “Mrs Price's birthday!” was set as a reminder for the next day.

Of course. His mother's birthday also had a calendar entry on his assistant’s laptop. He huffed, then took a deep inhale of his cigar. Did you ever have time for yourself? He mentally made a note to give you time off when this next mission was done.

He sighed. His feelings were uneasy. He’d probably let his mum down again, like the countless birthdays he had missed because he had been busy somewhere fighting. He always made a promise to make it up to her, but still, guilt gnawed at him every time. 

He contemplated his options. Visiting her as soon as he had the time was something he would do, no questions asked. Take her for a nice dinner, even.

But for the special day, he needed something to surprise her. Flowers, chocolates, maybe something expensive? Maybe he could get you to take care of it, you were better at these things anyway.

No. It was his mum. He couldn’t just brush it off.

Desperate to find anything, he looked online for his options. He wasn’t tech-savvy as you were, all he did was write reports, but he somehow managed to find a local florist that shipped pretty flower bouquets. He had no idea about these things. Flowers had to look pretty and make his mother happy, that was the bare minimum.

He ended up ordering what looked like a very opulent bouquet that he could imagine on his mother's dining table, colours fitting and all. It was all that was in his expertise about these things. He tried to think of what his mother liked, but the best he could come up with were lilies, the same flowers he gave his mum every year. It was enough. He hoped. He knew she liked them, and it was his luck, because it was the single sort of flowers he could remember what they looked like.

He sighed and shut the laptop, deciding it was probably time to end the day.

The next morning, John sat at his desk, tapping away at the keyboard, trying to concentrate on the mission briefing in front of him. It just had been a few hours and the day already felt like a mess, his focus a complete disaster.

After several frustrating phone calls with Kate, multiple talks with the boys, he finally finished the report he’d been working on. John could barely get through a sentence without sighing. It was the quiet way he handled stress, a groan here and there and a nice cigar, whenever he was overloaded and unsure how to solve the situation.

Just when he started contemplating sneaking out for some peace and quiet, a smile broke across his face. There you were, strolling through his office door, a coffee mug in each hand.

You always seemed to know when he was about to hit that point of utter exhaustion, the point when he needed that extra boost of energy. You were a master at knowing his needs before he even knew them.

“Didn’t know we were married, Cap.” You entered the office and your grin hit him like a bullet. He couldn't help but notice the way your hair, normally pulled back in a neat ponytail, was now falling loose around your shoulders, making your face look even softer. He noticed how your smile lingered a little longer when your eyes met his.

“Married?” He looked as if he’d been told the most shocking news of his life. He had expected a greeting, but not this sort. It made you giggle, as you walked to his desk to set the mug down. It struck him then - he hadn't ever really looked at you that way before. Was he starting to get feelings he wasn't sure how to handle? He shook it off.

“Thanks for the flowers, John. Though, I prefer hydrangeas to lilies.” The playful tone in your voice made him wonder if you knew how much he loved it when you called him by his name. It always felt a little more intimate than just “Cap.”

He shook his head, as if trying to wake up from a dream, taking the mug to take a sip from the freshly brewed liquid. “Flowers? What do you mean? And I'm certainly not married.”

“Then maybe I need to spend less time in our office because someone certainly thinks I’m your wife.” Your eyes sparkled with a teasing glint, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest, as if the caffeine you poured had an extra kick. He hoped his blush wasn't showing, but with your piercing eyes, there was little hope of concealing anything from you.

“I'm sorry, love, but I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about.” He looked to his papers, then back to you, blinking slowly.

“Flowers delivered to my doorstep with just a tag on them that says ‘Mrs Price’?” You raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

The image of you as his wife flashed through his mind, vivid and surprisingly alluring. He quickly shook it off as well, his cheeks turning pink, the colour matching those very lilies he’d chosen for his mother.

He could slap himself. Exhausted, he’d clicked through the ordering process without checking the address. All he’d managed to do was type in his credit card information, and he thought he was done. You were holding back laughter, and he knew he’d blown it completely. He hated feeling foolish, but seeing how it made your eyes crinkle in amusement despite his stupidity, made the embarrassment almost endearing.

You recognized the look on his face and sighed, putting your hands on your hips. “Don’t tell me those are for your mum, and you just let the autofill handle the address?”

You knew him too well sometimes, it was scary. No wonder you thought someone might have assumed you were actually married.

“I might have.” He murmured. He felt like such a rookie next to you when it came to the simplest things.

Your heart threatened to melt at the way he looked at you just then. He was usually so cool, so in control, but when he was around you, he felt vulnerable. And it was the most captivating thing about him.

You sighed. “Give me your mum’s address, I’ll drop them off for you and get a nice birthday card on the way as well.”

He looked at you, seemingly shocked. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. I’m your assistant, in case you forgot.” You smiled, the teasing glint in your eyes now replaced with genuine affection. Maybe it would be crazy to admit, but you secretly loved taking care of him. Being able to help when everything felt overwhelming. It made you feel valued.

“Yeah, with missions. Not with my private life.” He grunted, pointing to the countless files you neatly organized on his desk.

You had none of that. “You take your phone and call your mum to wish her a happy birthday, I’ll take care of the flowers. I know you’re busy, so let me help.” You'd rather have it right than have John worry about this any more than he already did. You knew how much he valued his relationship with his mother, and how much he regretted he couldn’t see her sometimes because of work. You had seen the quiet sadness in his eyes whenever they spoke on the phone, and felt a pang in your heart. The last thing he needed was the added stress of failing to properly congratulate her on her birthday.

He nodded, offering you a smile. “Thank you. I’d be lost without you in so many ways.”

The confession caught you off guard. It wasn't the first time he'd expressed his reliance on you, but this time, it felt different. He’d looked directly into your eyes when he said it, holding your gaze for a moment longer than usual. A warmth spread through you, a familiar flutter in your stomach. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, the way you were practically glowing under his intensity. You wanted to say something witty, playful, but instead, you nodded, appreciating his honesty. “That’s nice of you to say.”

As the day wore on, John continued to work diligently, his eyes flickering towards you on the background photo way too often. He didn't want you to know he was thinking about it, because it made him nervous. He didn’t exactly know what he felt for you. He hadn't experienced something like this in a very long time. It made him a bit afraid of what this new sensation meant for him, but certainly he knew he didn’t want to run from it. With a sigh, he opened the internet browser. He wanted to make it up to you for all you did that day.

After delivering the flowers and having a nice chat with John’s mother, who had been very understanding about her son’s work load, you returned to your flat. You turned on the lights and walked into the hallway. There, propped up against the door, was the most exquisite bouquet you had ever seen in your life.

You rolled your eyes, expecting another failed delivery, mentally cursing John for repeating the same mistake. But as you carefully removed the paper, your breath caught in your throat. 

It was hydrangeas.

And when you turned the tag over, your heart melted. “To: Not Mrs Price, but the best assistant someone could ask for. Dinner tomorrow, 7 pm, my place.  John.” 

[monimccoythings]

The Way We Were

Word Count: 791

tags: f!Reader, dark!logan (past), threats, mentions of blood, past abusive behavior, implied alcoholism.

"Stop. it." His voice came out in growls.

His claws are so close to your skin you almost feel a thin line of blood running down your neck.

"One more word. Just one. And I'll show you what these can do."

You couldn't move. You couldn't speak. Too terrified and heartbroken of the man that had once mattered to you the most. The one you'd have willingly sacrificed your entire life for.

"Never look for me again. Don't call me. I don't want to see you." The rage in his eyes, the coldness, was a sharp contrast to the soft hazel orbs you had fallen in love with long ago.

*SNIKT* As fast as his claws had appeared, they were gone. You finally allowed yourself to breathe. It's short lived, because he's soon up in your face again, a disgusted sneer on his features.

"Now. Get out of my life." His breath smelled like tobacco and alcohol, all mixed together. He had been drinking himself to oblivion again. You let the tears fall. You didn't recognise the man in front of you. Your husband.

"GET OUT." He roared in your face, making you wince.

He turned around and left you behind without sparing a single glance, in the empty parking lot of that dive bar in the middle of nowhere.

That was the last time he would see you in many, many years.

Logan woke up sweating and with his heart hammering in his chest. It had been so long since the last time he had dreamed about you. About that fateful night.

He grips the couch so tightly, he's going to tear the cloth. His hands were shaking as he felt the too familiar hole inside his chest reappear. He needed a drink. He had to drink. This never happened when he was drunk.

Stumbling over his own feet, he made his way towards the fridge, opening it with more violence than necessary. With his heart in his throat, his eyes searched manically until they set on a single can of beer.

That would have to do. For now.

He tried to calm his overwhelming thoughts with a single gulp, nearly drinking more than half of the can; focusing on Althea's snores from across the hall. Whatever distracted him long enough to avoid thinking about-

You.

Your soft smile. Your encouraging words. Your endless support through all his mishaps and hardships.

How gorgeous you had looked in that white dress when you walked down the aisle towards him. How great you had made him feel, like he was the luckiest man on the planet.

How he had completely fucked things up.

No matter how hard he tried to keep his memories of you at bay, his treacherous heart kept going back to you.

He wondered how you were doing. If you got that promotion you wanted.

Did you still kept your endless collection of air fresheners that drove him insane? Were you living in a better apartment than the one you had?

Did you remarry? Were you two actually divorced? He didn't remember signing anything at all. His teeth clenched at the thought of anybody else having you.

He shook his head.

What right did he had over you? After everything he had done, all the pain and trauma he pulled you through, what made him think he had any say on who you choose to spend your life with?

He wasn't the man he wished he was for you. The one that you deserved.

Yet...

He was here. He had been given a second chance to pull his head out of his ass and do the right thing. Out of all the better suited Wolverines there were out there, Wade picked him and turned him into a different man.

He was a completely different man from the one he was back then. The one torn with rage and grief. That monster, murderer, he was long gone, locked away, he would make sure of it.

He looked towards Wade's bedroom. He knew the sneaky bastard hid some of those dimension-travelling tablets somewhere in his bedroom. Knowing him, it would be probably the dirtiest and grossest corner where he would be sure Logan would never look.

He titled his head. A dangerous idea forming in his mind.

Could he?

Would he actually dare?

What if he just took a small peek. Just to make sure you were alright. You didn't have to see him. And he could return home with the knowledge that you were alright.

It was a terrible idea. A dangerous idea. But if the Wolverine was known for anything, it was for barreling into danger first and asking questions later.

He just needed to find the right moment.

[tetsuissohot]

Toji Fushijuro ONESHOT

☆summary. After a painful breakup, Y/N thought she had moved on from Toji Fushiguro, but when he reappears in her life, old feelings resurface. Toji, determined to win her back, confesses his regret and desire for a second chance. As the two wrestle with unresolved emotions, Y/N faces the struggle between her lingering love for him and the fear of getting hurt again. In the midst of their heated confrontation, passion takes over, and Y/N must decide if Toji’s promises are enough to trust him once more.

☆warning/tags: 18+fem!reader, casual, SFW, building up tention, ex's to lovers?, part 1

☆a/n: This my first work lol, please be kind and tell me where I can get improve! I'm thinking of doing a second part for this oneshot where things get a bit spicier. I hope you enjoy!

☆☆☆

The dimly lit bar was buzzing with the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses, but Y/N barely registered it. She stared blankly at the glass in her hand, swirling the amber liquid inside as her thoughts drifted elsewhere. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind—missions, responsibilities, and emotions she had long since buried.

But all of that seemed insignificant when he walked in.

Toji Fushiguro.

Y/N’s grip tightened around her glass at the sight of him. Even in the crowded bar, his presence was commanding—tall, broad-shouldered, and carrying an aura that both attracted and warned people to stay away. His dark green eyes scanned the room with a predator's calm until they landed on her. A smirk tugged at his lips.

He walked toward her, his steps confident and sure, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. And maybe he did—Toji had always been direct, never one to beat around the bush. But it wasn’t his confidence that made Y/N’s heart race; it was the fact that seeing him again brought back memories she had worked so hard to suppress.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was deep, gruff, and achingly familiar.

Y/N didn’t bother looking up as she took another sip of her drink. “It’s a free country.”

Unfazed by her cold response, Toji pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, his eyes never leaving her face. He leaned back casually, arms draped over the chair like he had all the time in the world.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, his tone casual but his gaze sharp.

Y/N finally met his eyes, her expression unreadable. “I’m not avoiding you, Toji. We’re just... done. I thought we both agreed on that.”

Toji’s smirk faded, and his face took on a seriousness that Y/N hadn’t seen in a long time. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Maybe you did. I didn’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she forced herself to stay composed. “You were the one who walked away,” she reminded him, her voice steady. “You were the one who said this—we—weren’t meant to last.”

Toji’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening. He remembered that day all too well. The bitter words he had thrown at her, the way he had convinced himself that he was better off alone—that she was better off without him. But now, sitting across from her, the regret felt like a weight pressing down on his chest.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted, his voice softer now, laced with something Y/N wasn’t used to hearing from him—vulnerability. “I thought it would be easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”

Y/N scoffed, setting her glass down with a clink. “Easier? You think walking out without an explanation made things easier for me?”

Toji winced, his usual unshakable demeanor faltering. He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to being the one in the wrong. But he knew he couldn’t sugarcoat it, couldn’t charm his way out of this like he did with everything else.

“You deserved better,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I was messed up. Still am, probably. But…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m not here to make excuses. I’m here because—dammit—I want you back.”

Y/N stared at him, shock flashing across her face before she quickly masked it with indifference. “You don’t get to just come back after disappearing, Toji. I moved on.”

Toji’s eyes darkened, the idea of her moving on hitting him harder than he anticipated. He wasn’t used to losing—especially not to someone else. The thought of Y/N with anyone else made his blood boil, but he forced himself to calm down.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said slowly, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m asking for a second chance.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to keep the walls she had built around her heart intact. “You can’t just walk back into my life whenever it’s convenient for you. I’ve been fine without you, Toji.”

He leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming. “Have you? Because I haven’t been.”

Y/N felt the weight of his words settle over her. Toji was never one to admit weakness, never one to let his guard down. But here he was, laying it all out in front of her, as raw and honest as she’d ever seen him.

“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice rough. “It’s not. I’m no good at this… at us. But I’m trying, Y/N. I’ve spent every day since we split wishing I hadn’t walked away.”

Y/N could feel the cracks forming in her defenses. She wanted to be angry—was angry—but there was something in Toji’s eyes that made it hard to hold onto that anger. She’d never seen him like this, so exposed.

“Toji…” Y/N began, but her voice faltered, unsure of what to say.

“Just tell me there’s still something there,” Toji said, his voice almost pleading now. “Tell me I’m not too late.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she searched his face, her emotions swirling in a storm of confusion, anger, and longing. She had loved him once—loved him deeply. And even though she had tried to move on, a part of her had never really let go.

But was that enough?

“You hurt me,” Y/N said quietly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. “And I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

Toji’s face softened, his hand reaching out across the table, hesitating before he touched hers. When his fingers finally brushed against her skin, it was tentative, as if he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch her anymore.

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes locking onto hers. “But I won’t make that mistake again. I swear.”

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken feelings. Y/N looked down at his hand on hers, feeling the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his gaze.

She had every reason to push him away, to tell him it was too late. But in the depth of her heart, she knew that despite everything, she still cared for him.

“I need time,” Y/N finally said, her voice soft but firm. “I’m not promising anything, Toji. But… I’ll think about it.”

Relief flooded Toji’s face, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled—really smiled. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

As they sat there in the dim light, their hands still touching, Y/N realized that maybe second chances weren’t always about forgetting the past. Sometimes, they were about finding a way to move forward—together, despite the scars.

And maybe, just maybe, Toji Fushiguro was worth the risk.

Thank you for reading xoxo

let me know if you want part II!

[leighbaylee]

— TRANCE

written by mina leigh 𝜗᭪ , nate jacobs 𝔁 f! reader | wc 2500

summary. nate realizes he is the luckiest guy ever. fuck maddy, fuck cassie, he was plotting for you. you’re the most perfect girl that he could’ve ever asked for.

labels. y/n is used , she her pronouns used. nate fantasizes about you innocently and quite naughty, hyper feminine reader, pet names used, mentions of obsession, praise, & stalking, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ mina speaks. i really recommend reading @annwrites multi - part fic ❝ exactly what he needs ,❞ paired with, yours truly, nate jacobs. as it was inspired by the masterpiece.

nate is in bed, staring blankly at the glow of his phone. it was some mindless scroll through his socials, yet it all felt dull. nothing grabbed his attention the way it used to. not the countless selfies of maddy’s perfectly angled poses, or cassie’s desperate attempts to catch his eye with the glossy smiles she plastered all over the screen.

he let out a breath, locking his phone and placing it face down on the bedside table. his hand trailed absentmindedly toward the blanket, pulling it up a bit to tuck you in, careful not to disturb you.

you were fast asleep beside him, your soft breaths falling into a steady rhythm. nate’s gaze lingered on you longer than it probably should’ve, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your face. fuck, you were perfect. it was almost criminal how effortlessly beautiful you looked, even now. no makeup, no posing, no pretending. just you.

he leaned his head back into the pillow, the warmth of your presence next to him soothing yet electrifying at the same time. it wasn’t like when he was with maddy or cassie. there wasn’t that constant tension, that need to control, to manipulate. well, maybe a little. but with you, it felt… different. not better, but more intoxicating.

❝ fuck ,❞ nate muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling, the faint glow from the moon seeping through the curtains.

he didn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky. not that it was entirely luck. it took planning, scheming. nate wasn’t a man who left things to chance. no, if he wanted something, he took it. he figured out how to make it his, even if it meant crushing a few people along the way.

and you? you were the one thing he hadn’t let slip through his fingers.

the day nate first really noticed you, like really noticed you, something shifted in him. it wasn’t like with cassie, where she was a fleeting obsession, someone he could toy with to get under maddy’s skin. no, you were something else. something more.

it had been a regular day, or at least it was supposed to be. cassie had brushed past him in the hall, giving him a sad, hopeful glance after their situationship had gone up in flames. she didn’t matter anymore, not really. nate had already set his sights elsewhere.

and then, there you were.

you didn’t even notice him at first, just standing there with a few friends, laughing at something dumb, probably something insignificant, but to nate, it was like the world had tilted. your hair caught the light just right, that glossy sheen making him want to reach out, run his fingers through it. and your face —fuck, your face was everything. perfect lips, perfect eyes, the kind of face nate could stare at for hours and never get bored. you had that thing about you, that girl - next - door vibe mixed with something else, something unattainable.

you weren’t loud, weren’t trying to get attention like maddy or cassie always did. you didn’t need to. you had a natural confidence, something soft but undeniable. your style was all femme, skirts and cute tops, nails always done, everything just ... neat. clean. controlled. nate liked that. he loved that.

it was like the universe had handed him exactly what he’d been looking for.

but getting you? that was going to take work. although not that he ever had any difficulty getting what he desired.

nate spent weeks figuring you out. watching. waiting. it wasn’t stalking, not really, he told himself. he was just making sure he knew everything he needed to. where you liked to hang out, who your friends were, what kind of guys caught your eye. every detail mattered.

he’d show up where you’d be, casually at first, nothing too obvious. he made sure to talk to the right people, make himself seem approachable, even charming, though that part came naturally. girls liked nate. it wasn’t hard to use that to his advantage.

he noticed how your eyes would flick toward him sometimes, just a quick glance before you looked away, trying not to let it linger. it was subtle, but nate knew what it meant. you were interested. maybe you didn’t realize it yet, but you were. and he was going to make sure you realized it soon enough.

a few weeks in, he made his move. a simple conversation, nothing too forward. just enough to get you thinking. he complimented your shoes, your nails, shit like that. small things, things other guys wouldn’t notice but nate did. he saw everything about you.

he could tell you liked the attention. your smile was shy, a little flustered even, and that’s how he knew he had you. it was only a matter of time now.

the days passed, and nate played his cards perfectly. you’d started to trust him, let your guard down around him. you laughed at his jokes, blushed when he teased you, and nate reveled in it. every little thing you did only made him want you more.

he liked how soft you were. how feminine. it wasn’t just your looks, though those were enough to drive him crazy on their own. it was the way you carried yourself, the way you made him feel needed, wanted, like he was the only guy who could make you happy.

he’d make sure you never wanted anyone else.

nate was careful, though. he didn’t rush things. he let the tension build, let you get used to the idea of him being around. he didn’t want to scare you off, not like he’d done with cassie. this time, it had to be perfect.

and it worked.

the night he finally confessed, nate couldn’t hold back anymore. it had been driving him insane, keeping it all bottled up, the way he felt about you. it wasn’t just lust, though that was a big part of it. it was deeper than that, more intense. he wanted you in every way, needed you.

he cornered you after a party, pulling you aside when no one was looking. your eyes widened in surprise, but there was a hint of excitement there too. nate could see it.

❝ i can’t keep pretending, y/n, ❞ he started, his voice low, controlled. ❝ i’ve been thinking about you, about us. for weeks. ❞

you blinked, a soft flush spreading across your cheeks. ❝ nate ... ❞

❝ no, let me finish, ❞ he interrupted, stepping closer, his body just inches from yours. ❝ you’re perfect. everything about you. i can’t stop thinking about you, wanting you. ❞ his hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and he smirked when you shivered at his touch. ❝ you deserve someone who sees that. who sees you. ❞

you stared up at him, your breathing shallow, and nate knew he had you right where he wanted.

❝ i hope you understand what i am getting at, i’m that guy, y/n, ❞ he murmured, leaning in, his lips just barely brushing your ear. ❝ i’m the guy who’s going to make sure you’re happy. no one else. ❞

your eyes sparkled, a mix of excitement and disbelief.

❝ nate... i didn’t know you felt that way, ❞ you whispered, biting your lip. ❝ i always thought... ❞

❝ what? ❞ he asked, his voice dripping with possessiveness. ❝ you thought you weren’t good enough? ❞ he let out a dark chuckle, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. ❝ you’re more than good enough. you’re mine. ❞

you stared at him, wide-eyed, but then you smiled —this soft, sweet smile that made his chest tighten.

❝ i didn’t think i’d be good enough for you, ❞ you admitted softly, looking down for a moment.

nate’s grip tightened around your waist, his hand firm as he pulled you closer, his lips brushing your temple. ❝ fuck that, y/n, ❞ he whispered, his voice thick with a mixture of desire and triumph. ❝ you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. ❞

your arms wrapped around his neck as you hugged him, pressing your face into his chest, and nate let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

he buried his face into the curve of your neck, breathing you in, his hands gripping your waist as he smirked against your skin. you were his now. completely his.

and nate wasn’t letting you go. not ever.

© MINA LEIGH 2023 - 2024

[starryevermore]

dumb love, i love being stupid ✧ ruhn danaan 

angst city™ library |send in a request (consultrequest faqs first)

pairing: ruhn danaan x fem!reader 

summary: you thought you had found your forever, but he wanted to keep it casual. 

word count: 2,346

warnings?: angst city™ bitch, not proofread

“So how’s it going with that one girl? Been seeing her a lot lately.”

“Eh, we’re just keeping things casual,” Ruhn said, eyeing a pretty faun from across the bar. 

You watched as his friend—Declan, you realize—arched a brow, took a long sip of his drink. Ruhn couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes as Declan said, “That why you keep bringing her around so much?”

“We both know what this is. I like her company, so I invite her out sometimes. That a crime?” Ruhn didn’t wait for an answer. He set his drink down on the bar and began to make his way to the pretty faun. 

“Guess not.” Declan looked away from his friend, eyes somehow finding yours. Despite the distance and lighting, you couldn’t miss the flash of pity. 

Before he could say anything to you, you turned on your heel, ready to leave the White Raven with whatever scraps of your dignity you had intact. You pushed through the throngs of people, ignoring the annoyed voices of those who you accidentally elbowed in the process. You just needed to get out of there. 

A hand caught your arm just as the exit was finally in sight, pulling you to a stop. “Hey! Where are you going? The fun’s just about to start!” Bryce cheered. Behind her stood Hunt, who offered you a smile and a soft “hey.”

Wriggling lose of Bryce’s hold, trying to maintain an air of playfulness, you managed a laugh. “Some of us have early mornings and can’t party til dawn.”

Bryce rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a buzzkill. Do I need to drag Ruhn out of whatever corner he’s hiding in and convince you to stay?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you prayed neither Bryce nor Hunt could hear it. “Didn’t realize he was here. Saw Declan for, like, half a second.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at you. “So that’s a yes? Getting your boy toy will get you to stay?”

“He’s not my boy toy,” you said, “and it makes me feel icky for you to call your brother that.”

“You’re no fun!” Bryce whined. 

Hunt, either because he believed your story about an early morning or because he could sense your unease, took Bryce by the waist and slowly began to urge her away. “C’mon, this is a losing battle.”

“Fine, but you’re coming to the party this weekend, right?”

You probably weren’t, but if agreeing was what it took to get out of the White Raven without crying in front of Ruhn’s friends, then that’s what you’d do. “Duh, you think I’d miss it?”

Bryce grinned, and Hunt finally successfully urged her into the crowd to find the rest of their friends. You loosed a breath, rolled your shoulders, and made your escape. No one stopped you again, or even spared you a glance. For that, you were grateful. You weren’t sure how much more people-ing you could handle. 

Unfortunately, you did plan on making one more stop before you went home. 

Ruhn really needed a better hiding spot for his spare key. Was there anything more obvious than a potted plant by the door? It would have been laughable if you weren’t effectively breaking into his home. (Is it really breaking in if you found the key? And when the owner of said key told you where it was hidden?) 

You didn’t bother being quiet, figured that all of the home’s residents were out at the White Raven. Yet, when you shut the door, a voice had you jumping out of your skin. 

“Ruhn come back with you?” Flynn asked, leaning against the entry to the kitchen. 

You tried to steady your breathing and racing heart. “Nah. Think he’s at the White Raven with Declan. I was just swinging by to grab a couple things I left behind.” You held up the spare key for him to see. “Y’all need a better place for this than the only potted plant on the property. You’re practically asking someone to steal all your shit.”

Flynn nodded. “Cool, cool. Shout if you need anything, and try not to rob us blind, yeah?”

“Eh, I’ll leave your shit alone, but can’t say the same for Ruhn and Declan,” you joked despite yourself. 

He snorted out a laugh. “You’re funny. Shame Ruhn got to you first.”

You shrugged. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”

As you walked up to Ruhn’s room, Flynn disappeared into the kitchen. He’d probably leave you alone. As long as you don’t take a long time, probably. You didn’t plan on sticking around, though. You just wanted to grab your things and get out before Ruhn returned with that faun he was eyeing. If he thought this was casual, the last thing he would want is for you to be hanging around while he was trying to get lucky. 

Thankfully, you knew where most of your things were. A couple of shirts thrown in his closet, a jacket strewn over a chair. Some miscellaneous socks mixed in with his laundry. You grabbed your lipgloss you thought you lost from the bathroom, and the pretty hand towel you brought because there was no way in hell you were using the scratchy ones they bought in bulk. Your favorite bras, buried in the top dresser drawer. 

Once you were satisfied you got everything you cared about, you made your way out of the home, praying that you wouldn’t run into Flynn again. 

He was on the couch when you came out. He eyed the bundle of clothes in your arms. “Moving out?” he teased. 

“Getting this stuff out before he thinks I’m trying to move in.”

“You and I both know Ruhn wouldn’t mind if you did. Honestly, he’d probably be more offended you were sneaking all that shit out.”

Liar. “Eh, I need to wash all this and I don’t trust you idiots to not fuck all my nice stuff up.”

Flynn laughed, throwing his head back. “You make us sound like beasts!”

“Excuse you, I was here when your sheets were stained pink after a sock made its way into the machine, and when half of Ruhn’s clothes got bleach stains after one of you forgot to rinse out the drum,” you giggled.

Fuck, you wished you had fallen for Flynn instead. Or even Declan. They were easy to talk to, and wouldn’t make you feel like an idiot for thinking that something more than casual was going on. That was more your fault than anything, you supposed. You knew who Ruhn was when he approached you at the White Raven all those months ago. He never tried to hide who he was. You were the idiot who thought he might settle down.

“Fair enough,” Flynn laughed. “Hey, you be careful alright? Ruhn’d kill me if you got hurt after leaving here.”

You were already hurt, but Flynn didn’t know that. Didn’t need to know that. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, you mother hen.”

Flynn flipped you off as you left, still laughing. The bitter part of you thought he was laughing at you, knowing how big of an idiot you were. The more rational part knew he was just having a nice time joking around with you. Whatever. You probably weren’t going to be seeing him around much either way. 

Loud knocking on the door woke you up. When you glanced at your phone for the time, it was barely one in the morning. Several more hours until you would need to start the day, and way too late for anyone to be bothering you right. With a groan, you got out of bed, wrapped yourself up with a robe, and went to the door, fully prepared to chew out whoever was interrupting your beauty sleep. 

You yanked open the door. Ruhn stood on the other side. Whatever steam you had rising up inside you dissipated when you saw him. 

Pulling the robe closer around you, you asked, “What are you doing here?” More questions stayed locked in your mind—Why aren’t you home? Why aren’t you with that pretty faun? 

“Flynn said you stopped by to get some of your things,” Ruhn said. “Looked like you took more than a few. Just wanted to see if you were alright.”

You opened the door wider so he could see into your small apartment. You gestured to the couch, where your laundry basket sat, topped off with the clothes you took back from his place. “Was needing to do laundry,” you lied. “Wanted to make sure all my stuff got washed.”

He pouted—actually pouted. “I could’ve done that for you.”

“It’s no big deal—”

“Or you could’ve done it at my place. Throw in a couple of my things if you didn’t have enough for a load,” he continued. Ruhn took a step into your apartment. You took a step back. “I like having your stuff around.”

“It’ll all probably end up there again anyways,” you shrugged. You doubted it. Ruhn might have wanted to keep this casual, but you weren’t that sort of person. You craved intimacy, the closeness of a relationship. If Ruhn wouldn’t offer that, you didn’t see the point in sticking around. 

Ruhn’s violet eyes searched yours. You weren’t sure what he was looking for. It would probably be easier to walk into your mind than try to pick it up with context clues, but you also didn’t want him anywhere near your head. You didn’t want to hear any excuses he had. Anyways, Ruhn was good about staying out of your mind. He said he didn’t want to violate your trust. What a joke. “Why didn’t you talk to me tonight?”

“Huh?”

“Dec said he saw you, and Bryce said you two talked. I was there, too. I know we didn’t plan on doing anything tonight, but I would’ve liked for you to say something.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why are you really here, Ruhn? I know it’s not because I got my things or didn’t talk to you tonight.”

“Are we good?”

The scoff fell from your mouth before you could stop it. Seriously? Why did he even care? If this was casual, why did he care about your feelings? “You don’t have to pretend, Ruhn. I know you want to keep this casual.”

Ruhn blinked, slowly working his jaw. “What are you talking about?”

“If you want this to be casual, that’s fine. I mean, you wish you had told me that, but I can’t change the past. If you want, you know, company or whatever, that’s okay. But I’m not that sort of person. Let’s not let feelings get any more involved than they already are.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. It took him long enough. Ruhn was far from stupid. It didn’t make sense for it to take this long for it to all click. “You heard me and Dec.”

“And saw you with the pretty faun.”

Ruhn looked away. His jaw clenched and unclenched. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

“Does it matter that I was? I mean, if this is casual, you can flirt with anyone you want. You can fuck anyone you want.”

“Stop saying that,” he near-growled. You raised your brows. What right did he have to get upset? At you no less? Fuck, you needed to put an end to all of this. Tonight. Now. 

You couldn’t hide your own ire as you said, “Why? Only you get to call it casual? I get to sit around thinking that maybe you actually give a shit about me, that you want to stick around for the long term, but you get to sleep with half of the city. Do I have that right?”

“No.”

“No, I think I do,” you said. You reached out, started to push him toward the door. Ruhn snatched your hand and tugged you against him. “Ruhn, let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me go and get the fuck out of here.”

“No,” he insisted. It was hard to ignore the desperation in his voice, but you weren’t going to fall for any of his tricks. You fell for enough of him already. 

Tears pricked at your eyes. Godsdammit, you weren’t going to cry in front of him. He didn’t deserve to see you so vulnerable. Not anymore, at least. “I am not going to be the idiot in love with you,” you said, your voice thick, “not when you don’t give a shit about me.”

Ruhn’s eyes flashed. With what, you weren’t certain. “I fucking care about you!” he shouted. Oh, what you would’ve given to hear that just hours ago. Now, it meant nothing. 

“No. You either lied to Declan about this being casual, or you lied to me about wanting something with me. Either way, you lied. You do not lie to the people you care about.” You wrenched yourself away from Ruhn, grabbed the door, and pointed out to the hall. “Go. I won’t ask again.”

“I want to talk about this.”

You gestured into the hallway again. “I have nothing left to say. I’ve got neighbors, Ruhn, and you’re probably waking up the whole building.”

He said your name, so softly your resolve nearly crumbled. But you looked away, steeled yourself. You weren’t going to let yourself be treated like shit just for a fae who would never respect you. 

“Lose my number.”

Ruhn stepped toward you. He stopped right in front of you, brushed away a strand of hair that fell in your face. His eyes scanned over you, as if memorizing you. But you wouldn’t look at him. Couldn’t. Then he stepped through the threshold of the door, and you shut the door before he could say anything else, twisted the locks before he could try to open it.

You pressed your back against the door and sank down to the door. Face pressed against your knees, you began to cry, and you pretended you couldn’t hear Ruhn still standing on the other side. 

It was better off this way.