#i feel so much yet i have nothing. i feel so fucking hopeless

[just-kylesp]

i need him biblically like 😭😭 it’s so frustrating the position i’m constantly in. i think i’m over him and then fucking NOPE. and there is nothing i can do at all about it. he isn’t mine he will never be mine he’s someone else’s and i respect that. but oh my god. and we speak so sparingly because he’s busy or not doing well and i get it. i really do. but my shifts are so intense and my memories scream at me. my body remembers the feelings of him. my memories are precise and distinct and reoccurring and it won’t let up. every song is about him. everything is about him. now that the distraction is gone i cant fucking handle it. being normal with him is so difficult sometimes but i do it because i care so much. i hate this i hate this so much. god and he’ll probably see this and know it’s about him but i just. god i don’t know how to just get these memories to stop. i don’t want them to but for my sake i should. and it’s not like we can even be kin dating because his irl bf wouldn’t like it. so it’s just. there’s no escape except through the role play which we rarely get to rlly do. it’s not like this for him at all i mean he barely thinks he’s a kinnie at all. but he is he has to be because first of all it’s glaringly obvious but also because we share the SAME thoughts about the specific timeline we roleplay. it was so unanimous and mutual when it came to the bigger picture AND the specific details. everything was so correct. everything felt so right. the intensity of which we feel certain things isn’t coincidence. but that was a different life so. i should just let it go. i should just stop feeling like this. but it’s addicting to me. he’s addicting he always was and that just isn’t gonna change. it’s not his fault. it’s nothing he’s doing it’s all me and my own head hating me this much.

[loveyouprongs]

did my heart love till now?

remus lupin x fem!reader | she’s a hopeless romantic who loves halloween. he loves her. or at least he very, very, strongly likes her in a way he’s never liked anyone else. enough to wear matching costumes

upcoming content: fluff! mentions of alcohol. lmk if you think i missed anything

authors note: i hope you like this! romeo & juliet is my favorite play and the 1996 film is my favorite movie! and remus is my favorite boy :’)!

word count: 2k

masterlist

remus had been staring at himself in the mirror for so long his reflection was starting to blur, like a watercolor painting made up of the soft brown of his hair, his pale complexion, and shining silver. he felt like a fool. “a lovesick fool,” james would say, but in this moment, he just felt like a fool. period.

“hey moony, have you decided what you’re going to be for halloween yet?” sirius asked as soon as he and james barged into their shared apartment. remus tore his gaze from his book at the sound of his best friend’s unnatural sounding greeting, loud and jilted as if he’d been practicing it.

“…no, wh-“

“well look no further!” james very enthusiastically exclaimed, pulling a brown bag out from behind his back which promptly fell to the ground, the contents now hanging between him and sirius. it was a knights armor. metal shoulder pads atop a slinky silver long sleeve top with chains resting across the chest.

“what the fuck is that?”

“your halloween costume!” james said as if it were obvious.

remus could do nothing but look at his two friends, who he cared for very deeply, as if they were right idiots.

“don’t you get it?” sirius asked, “it’s romeo!”

remus then felt his face red, heat rising to his cheeks all the way to his ears and he knew he couldn’t play dumb to get out of this.

last week at dinner you had said that you were planning on dressing as juliet for halloween. “from the movie of course!”

“isn’t that part of a couples costume?” marlene asked, “are you bringing a mystery man with you to my party?”

at that, remus tensed, his shoulders instinctively rising to his ears and his heart quickened waiting for your response. he hung out with you pretty much every day, you’re tight knit friend group always sharing at least one meal together. he felt like he would know if you had a boyfriend, but he was still feeling queasy waiting for your answer.

“no mystery men with me! i guess it could be a couple’s costume, but it’s so pretty, i don’t mind doing it solo.”

remus felt his body relax and continued to pick at his food, stealing glances at you whenever he could, missing the mischievous looks being traded between james and sirius.

“i am not wearing that,” remus said resolutely.

“why not? girls love this stuff!” sirius responded, tossing the costume on remus’ lap. he refused to touch it, as if any sign that he openly had feelings for you would somehow come back to bite him in the ass. it rested on his legs like an anchor.

“you want me to surprise her with a matching costume? that’s pathetic.”

“it’s sweet!” james stressed.

“yeah, and she’s always so heart eyed over that gooey romance shit, you show up in this and she’ll be begging for it!”

sirius’ crude comments was met with a smack in the head from james and an unimpressed stare from remus.

“remus, i’m telling you, this is a perfect idea! she’s single and dressing as one half of the greatest couples in history, if you show up as the other half, oh it’ll be like straight out of the pictures!” james swooned. remus felt his heart soften at his overdramatic friend, who he knew was just trying to help him be happy, but his nerves overpowered any convincing.

“you do know they both die at the end, right? kill themselves, even. not sure that’s a message i want to send.” remus muttered, standing up from the couch to go to his room, tired of his friend’s antics.

“you’ll never get a date by just staring at her, mate!” james called out, “and she’s well fit, too! you’re time is running out and you know it!” sirius added as remus walked down the hall, the metal costume in tow, only to be shoved in his closet.

but as halloween inched closer and his feelings for you only grew stronger, james and sirius’ words echoed in his head. he could never get the thought of your soft voice and sweet smile out of his mind, he liked you. so much.

you were always the one who kept listening to him when whatever he was saying was drowned out by the group. always spoke to him in dulcet tones, especially when you felt he had a headache. you were smart and funny and kind, not to mention beautiful. beautiful in a way that reminded him of the princesses and angels he would read about in books when he was a child. soft and warm, a glow seemingly always emanating from your figure.

remus would be content with just looking at you for the rest of his life, he thinks (deep down in the back of his brain, terrified of the strength of his own feelings) but it would be nice to do it without the feat of getting caught by your stare, or his friends taking the mick out of him afterwards.

so here he stood, his torso slightly weighed down by the heavy detailing, but it fit him well nonetheless. it was almost time for them to leave for marlene’s and remus could hear his friends in the living room. he had to make a decision soon.

“y’coming, moony?” james asked through the door.

remus took a deep breath, biting off a square of chocolate. he could do this. it was halloween! you’re supposed to be in a costume. and the film was popular enough, he figured, that he could play it off as a coincidence if things went south.

“…yeah, i’m coming.” he stepped out the door and walked down the hall, rolling his eyes at james’ loud gasp.

“oh my god you’re wearing it!” james practically screeched.

“don’t make me change my mind.”

“oh remus, you’re so handsome!” sirius teased in a high pitched voice, “please be my romeo!”

“for it is the east, and juliet is the sun!” james recited.

“that’s it, i’m changing!” remus exclaimed, only to be dragged back by his waist and walked out the door.

remus was hit by the noise of the party as soon as marlene swung the door open. her eyes trailed down james’ superhero outfit, sirius dressed as patrick bateman, and then remus, her face exploding in an open mouth smile. “reeeeemussss!!!!” she squealed, clearly already on her way to drunk, “you’re such a sweetheart!” she cooed, remus’ cheeks reddening more than he thought possible.

“isn’t he just? now let us in marls, it’s fucking freezing out here!” sirius said, and with a pat on the back, he and james were emerged in the crowd.

“she isn’t here yet, remus, but oh my god she’s going to love it,”

as the night went on remus had practically glued himself to marlene’s increasingly wasted side all night, no sign of james or sirius (who he would bet money are upstairs with dates, or each other), and more importantly no sign of you. he was feeling more foolish by the minute, the metal top growing uncomfortable against his sweaty skin.

disappointed was pooling in his stomach as marlene was nodding off on his shoulder, or so he thought, but he was brought out of his thoughts when a loud yelp escaped her. “you’re here! finally!”

marlene jumped up and stumbled over to a vision in white. flowing silk draped over your body, delicate, feathered wings pinned to your back. excess fabric tied around your waist, framing you beautifully. stunningly. remus felt like he was having an out of body experience, watching himself stand frozen in the middle of the living room, mouth slightly agape, willing himself to do anything other than stare.

“REEEEMUS LOOK! LOOK WHO IT IS!” marlene shout-whispered, shoving you towards him.

you felt your breath escape you at the sight. remus, tall and sweet, looking down at you, his tussled hair dancing across his forehead and his long fingers reached up to brush it out of his eyes, hand trembling. you weren’t fully convinced you weren’t dreaming.

“she, she’s pretty out of it,” he spoke softly, referring to marlene who was now dancing with a lamp.

“y-you look, i-i really like your costume, obviously” you murmured, fiddling with your hands, resisting the urge to run your hand down his sculpted cheeks.

ever since you met him, you believed remus was one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen. and then once you got to know him, got to experience first hand his limitless kindness, his witty remarks that always put the boys teasing to shame, and his rare barking laugh that only comes out when he finds something really funny (you elicited it from him once and have spent forever chasing that high).

all your friends said he had a thing for you. that he was always staring at you with soft, hooded eyes, move his plans around for you whenever you asked to study together, rest his jacket on the seat next to him so it would appear taken so no one else would sit down it it until you came.

but you were both famously mild-mannered, shy to a fault, and your feelings never rose to the surface, but the same couldn’t be said for right now.

“oh, thank you,” remus responded, “i thought it would be nice if we could match.”

a giggle escaped you at that and you looked down, unable to meet his eye, you both wearing twin smiles.

absolutely thrilled with your reaction, remus bent his body in half, tilting his head up to catch your gaze, eyes filled with hope, “what’d y’think?”

“i think you look very dashing, rem, i didn’t know you were a shakespeare fan.”

“hmm, not so much,” with a deep breath he let out, “i’m a fan of you, though”

the neon lights flashing over you both contributed to the bubble you found yourselves in. the rowdy guests nothing but white noise as you felt your heart pound against your chest over the soft spoken boy.

“really?” it slipped out. deep seeded insecurity worming it’s way to the forefront as you were positively overwhelmed with confronting your feelings… and that who you had them for.

remus’ heart splintered a little at your warbling ask, “yes” he let out, easy as breathing, “of course.” he placed a large hand on your shoulder, his thumb dancing on the edge of your collarbone.

“i’m a fan of you, too. more than anyone else,” you whispered with a step closer, your white ballet flats lightly knocking against the tips of his black boots, the space between you dwindling.

“aren’t i lucky,” remus murmured wistfully, “to have an angel say that about me”

with that you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips to his, immediately getting lost in the sparks. unsure of what to do with your arms, you awkwardly placed them on remus’ forearms, as if you were holding him still in place. he smiled against your lips, the breath escaping from his chuckle dancing across your face as he lightly dragged your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

you melted as he pulled you in, you gasped as he ran his tongue against your bottom lip, you chased after his lips when he pulled away with a stuttering breath. “y’have to give me a minute angel, or m’heart’s going to give out,”

you giggled, knowing exactly how he felt as he tucked his face into your neck.

“oi oi, c’mon lupin! what did i tell ya! i knew you could do it!” sirius shouted from across the room, thrusting his cup in the air in congratulations.

“oh christ,” remus muttered, his annoyance dissipating with your laugh.

“you are a lover, moony! borrow *hic* cupid's wings and soar with *hic* them above common ground!” james, although very drunk and hiccuping, recited.

all remus could do was roll his eyes, he had everything he wanted right in front of him. after he was done kissing you until the sun came up (and a little bit more after that), he could figure out when the fuck james seemingly memorized romeo and juliet.

[pinkmirth]

KEEPER!

SYNOPSIS! ⸻ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

CONTAINS⸻ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

MY LOVE LETTER! ⸻ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧

[adispit]

Hiyaaa can I ask for Ayato from Genshin with a kitsune reader who steals pieces of his clothing as a secret crush on him but one day Ayato catches them and punishes them.

A Punishment ?

Ayato x kitsune! bttm male reader

Content warnings: spanking, anal tongue fucking (receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, creampie , slight predator prey dynamic (if you squint), slight dubcon because reader wasn’t really into the spanking at the start

Note: This fic has been marinating in my inbox for 2 weeks so I hope you enjoy! Also I haven’t played Genshin in a year so this might be a tad bit ooc 😭. Enjoy!

You had always been someone in the background, shadowed and sheltered under the protection of your sister, Guuji Yaemiko. Few to none knew of your actual existence as centuries passed, except for the Raiden Shogun and the clans themselves. Her influence stretched far, wrapping around you like a protective veil.

The Shrine was your haven, but also your cage. Every decision, every move you made, was watched, controlled. It was always for your safety, she would say. The sister who would tease and always play you like a fiddle to her silly whims became firm and unmovable when it came to exploring beyond the Inazuman city. You had been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, never given the freedom to truly explore it. Yet, that defiant streak within you had only grown stronger. You didn’t want protection. You wanted to live.

However, what your sister could not shield you from was unforeseen. A little crush you had harboured for the Yashiro Commissioner himself, Kamisato Ayato. A man who carried himself with grace and power — a man who like your sister, commanded respect wherever he went. The very man that made the Kamisato name arise from its ashes and make it the prestigious clan today. As much as you hated to admit it, you were nothing better than those maidens who chased after him relentlessly for marriage offers. It stung to think of yourself in that way, to admit that you were drawn to him with the same intensity that they were.

It wasn’t just his power or his elegance. It was the way he moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, the sharpness in his gaze that made you feel seen even when you wished to remain hidden. You were drawn to him with a fascination that bordered on obsession, an allure that you couldn’t shake off no matter how hard you tried. Due of your crush, you found yourself resorting to a silly yet strangely satisfying ritual—stealing Ayato’s clothes. It was an odd way to cope with the intense feelings you harbored for him, but it was the only outlet you could manage. Each stolen item, whether a glove, a ribbon, or a sash, became a cherished possession, a physical connection to him that you could hold onto.

Each piece of clothing was a wishful reminder of him—a way to keep a part of him close, even if you could never have him completely. You would fold his garments carefully, press them to your face, and imagine the moments he had worn them, his scent of sandalwood and rain with the lingering warmth, It was your own secret fantasy. It was harmless really. A secret way of indulging in the hopeless crush you’d harbored for the head of the Kamisato clan.

However, tonight, the air felt different—charged with something you couldn’t quite place. Strangely, there weren’t any guards present that were on patrol. The estate was quiet. A little too quiet.

Still, you pressed on.

The thought of what you were about to do made your fox ears twitch in excitement. Ayato’s chambers were silent as you nudged the door open, the dim light of a single candle casting long shadows over the room.

You crept inside, eyes scanning for something to take. His haori lay draped neatly over a chair, and without hesitation, you reached for it. The silk fabric slipped through your fingers, smooth and cool to the touch. Your breath caught in your throat as you brought it close, imagining, just for a moment, what it would feel like to be wrapped in it—surrounded by him. The thought made your cheeks warm, but you pushed it away, carefully folding the haori over your arm.

It was a ridiculous thought, you knew that.

You allowed yourself a small smile. Another successful heist, another piece of him to add to your collection. You moved toward the door, your escape clear and easy.

But as you turned, something stopped you.

A faint rustle. Barely a sound, but enough to make your ears twitch with alert. You froze, eyes darting toward the corner of the room. Nothing.

You waited, heart racing in your chest, every instinct telling you to bolt but curiosity kept you rooted in place. Slowly, you scanned the room again, your gaze lingering on the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on a figure sitting in the shadows.

Ayato.

He was leaning casually against the headboard of his bed, his body bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. His lavender eyes, sharp and calculating, met yours with a calm intensity. Those eyes were striking—like shards of amethyst, reflecting the light in a way that made them almost glow. They watched you with a calm amusement, though the glint in them suggested he was far more aware of the situation than you were.

Your heart raced as you took in his appearance. His long, pale blue hair was neatly tied back, save for a few loose strands that framed his angular face. The moonlight accentuated his porcelain skin, making him look almost ethereal, like something out of a dream. Yet there was nothing soft about the way he held himself—he stood with a quiet strength, the grace of a nobleman who knew his power.

“You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic, but there was an edge to it. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, clutching the haori tightly. Ayato’s tall, lean frame was still relaxed, but every movement he made was deliberate. His long fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the bed as he spoke, drawing attention to his hands—hands that could command armies or, in this case, one mischievous kitsune.

“I… I didn’t mean—”

Ayato’s lips curled into a faint smirk, revealing a glimpse of his sharp wit. “Didn’t mean to what?” He interrupted, stepping forward, the soft rustle of his clothing barely audible. “You seem to have a habit of taking things that don’t belong to you,” he murmured, his voice low, smooth, and far too calm.

“Lord Ayato,” You squeaked softly, ears flattening as you clutched the fabric in your hands. He approached, slowly, the air between you charged with something you couldn’t name. “What were you planning to do with this, hm?” He gestured toward the ribbon in your hand, his voice soft but laced with authority. “Stealing from me, Yae Miko’s brother no less… What would she say?”

You bristled at the mention of your sister, but there was no escape now. “I just wanted—”

“To see if I’d notice?” Ayato finished for you, his amusement deepening as he tilted his head slightly. His eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. Up close, you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the quiet authority he carried in every word.

His hand reached out, brushing lightly against the fabric of the haori. “I noticed,” he whispered, his voice sending a thrill down your spine. His fingers grazed yours, cool to the touch yet searing with the unspoken threat of control.

Ayato’s smile was small but devastatingly confident. “But there’s a price to pay for stealing from the Yashiro Commissioner.”

Your heart raced as he stepped even closer, the close proximity making your tail swish back and forth with nervousness and anticipation. “And I think you know what that means.”

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You hesitated for just a moment, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense, and utterly unyielding—was enough to make you comply. Your legs gave way almost instinctively as you dropped to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest. The rush of adrenaline coursing through you drowned out everything except the sound of your own breathing, loud and uneven in your ears.

He took another step, his movements so fluid that his bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor, as though he was one with the shadows. You could feel the heat radiating from him even before he stood directly in front of you, the faint scent of sandalwood and rain lingering in the air—intoxicating and impossible to ignore.

A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the corners of his lips—a smirk that sent a thrill of both fear and excitement rushing through your body. The expression was playful, yet there was something undeniably dangerous in it, like he was silently toying with you, fully aware of the power he held over you. Up close, you could see the cool, detached amusement in his eyes—like a predator toying with prey, knowing full well you were already caught in his web.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You hesitated again, but the silent disapproving look in his eyes was enough to make you move. You stood up slowly, your hands trembling as you began to undress. Reluctantly, your robes slipped off, leaving you stark naked and cold, shivering in the cold night air. Truth to be told, you were a virgin, never having the chance to even have a sexual outlet besides from fingering yourself and masturbating on rare occasions when your sister wasn’t at the shrine. Even with your crush on Ayato, you were rather reluctant and admittedly, a tad bit fearful.

He watched you, his expression unreadable, but the fire in his piercing eyes made your skin tingle with anticipation. That calm, calculating gaze burned with something primal even though his face remained impassive. When you were done, he simply gestured for you to turn around. You hesitated briefly, but his silent command left no room for question.

Your heart pounded as you moved, his authoritative presence looming behind you. “Hands on the bed,” he demanded, his voice brushing dangerously close to your ear. The soft, commanding tone sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, making you feel small beneath him.

You obeyed, placing your palms flat against the cool surface of the futon. The fabric felt grounding under your trembling fingers. You could hear him moving, the quiet rustle of his robes as he adjusted himself, his body heat brushing ever closer. The air between you felt electric, charged with tension, until—

Without warning, the first blow landed hard across your ass. The sharp, stinging pain rippled through you like a wave. You gasped, your body jerking forward from the sudden impact, your tail instinctively going taut. The burning sensation lingered, intensifying with every passing second, until all you could do was grip the sheets, struggling to steady yourself against the onslaught.

“Ayato, I don’t think I want to — Ah!”

He wasn’t done.

The second blow came even harder, the sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through your body. This time, you couldn’t suppress the cry that escaped your lips, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. You bit down hard on your lip, the metallic taste of blood faint on your tongue as you fought back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Count,” he ordered, his voice dangerously calm. “And call me Sir. Stay still,” he added, the warning in his tone unmistakable, “Or this will be even worse.”

You could feel the power in his command, the unspoken promise that he wouldn’t tolerate disobedience.

“Two, Sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling, doing your best to remain still despite the lingering sting.

The next few blows came in quick succession, each one more painful than the last. Your ass was on fire, the pain mingling with the arousal that was building inside you. You could feel yourself getting hard, your body betraying you as it responded to the punishment. The next few blows came in quick succession, each one landing harder than the last. Your skin burned, a searing pain spreading across your ass with every strike, and it felt like your entire body was on fire.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and no matter how hard you fought them back, they kept coming, blurring your vision. You mutely counted the blows between occasional cries of pain and ragged gasps for air. The room spun around you, the sensation too much, too fast.

Each smack to the ass only intensified your horror at your arousal and your arousal. You could feel your dick twitching and getting stiffer as the pain resonated throughout your body. Precum was beginning to pool beneath your cock as the electric sting that the pain brought felt even more pleasurable than the last.

“T-ten,” you whispered shakily, your hands gripping the sheets as you struggled to keep from collapsing under the pressure. Finally, he paused, giving you a moment of respite to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the tension in your body slowly unwinding as the sting of the blows lingered. Your skin was still ablaze with the aftermath.

You could feel his hand resting lightly on your back, his fingers brushing against your skin in stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier actions. The touch was almost tender, a strange gentleness that sent a confusing wave of emotions through you.

Suddenly, with a swift motion, you found yourself turned around, now facing him. Despite the harsh punishment you had endured, you felt your heart race and then falter as the close proximity of Ayato became overwhelming. Your traitorous tail, betraying your true feelings, swished involuntarily with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

However that did not distract him from the hard on you sported, much to your embarrassment. His slender hand crept down your body and dwarfed your cock. He rhythmically rubbed your length, making you shudder and feel the sparks and the familiar hum of pleasure beginning to ignite.

“Yes,” you gasped as Ayato purposefully tightened his grip around your sensitive tip, never stopping his pace, “Oh—fuck—” as that mischievous hand closed around you, there was a playful air about Ayato as he let out a soft melodic laugh while mumbling something under his breath and then shifting his grip.

The next slide up was a tight, demanding fist. You threw your head back.

“Does that feel good, (Name)?” There was an amused lilt in his voice that made you flush head to toe.

The rush of blood and desire to a point low in your stomach was overwhelming. The movement was growing slicker, better , so tempting to lean fully into. You had never been this turned on.

“I don’t know, ” you cried through a strangled whine, you felt Ayato’s laughter directly through your skin, and somehow that made him suddenly very close.

There was something so exciting and arousing about it the way the man you had dreamt about, the very Yashiro Commissioner, himself was helping pleasure you. The very thought had you moaning, once, and falling slack like a puppet with cut strings. 

You were gently pushed back onto your back against the soft surface of the futon with both your legs are hoisted up, hanging against Ayato’s shoulders. Your body folded in half as you saw his head buried in your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin as your tail hairs brushed against his chin.

“Ayato?!” You struggled for the commissioner to release his grasp on your legs, but to no avail, as he tightened his grip to hold you still. You flushed red in embarrassment, the thought of Ayato seeing everything too much to bear. 

And then you felt something warm and slimy breach past the ring of muscles, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Holy fuck. Was Ayato actually doing what you thought he was? 

You shuddered as waves of pleasure traveled up to your core. Gritting your teeth to try and contain the shameful moans from escaping you, afraid to realise that this was all a dream, afraid that Ayato would be turned off by you.

“Hnnn…Ayato….” You groaned, eyes clenching shut and face wrinkled as you bit back on a pathetic whine. All of a sudden, you jolted.

Ayato’s tongue had prodded at something deep inside you that made you melt into a puddle of arousal and shame. You unconsciously gripped his head tight with your thighs, messing up his perfect tidied hair. He had found your prostrate. And then he stopped, a gossamer thread of saliva connecting his lips to your hole as he retreated.

You couldn’t help but notice the shy mole that hid beneath his spit shiny lips — he was absolutely ethereal even with his messy and tousled hair. An unnatural pink flush decorated his fair and porcelain face and you realised that he was aroused.

By you.

The thick tension hung in the air as he silently gazed at you, the hunger in his amethyst eyes almost engulfing you on the spot like he was a man gone wild.

Shadows danced on his face as he meticulously removed his robes, still carrying himself with the same grace and dignity as if the air wasn’t imbued with the electric undercurrent of arousal and the fact that he had just tongue fucked you. He stood above you, full mast and you felt your breath get stolen away from you.

Ayato had a picture perfect physique, lean, almost like a statue carved out and had come to life. Your eyes immediately dove down to his abdomen, to be greeted with his cock, hard, already pressing against your rim, twitching invitingly. Both hands gripping your waist as he positioned himself.

“We will not stop now, (Name). Your pleas and cries will be unheard. This is a punishment.” He stared at you with an unyielding gaze, one that you were ready to challenge. “This is the lesson you must learn, the price of your rebellion,” he concluded. “One I accept.” You let out a hoarse giggle. His eyes darkened almost simultaneously as what seemed like another amused smile tugged at his lips before he let his actions speak for himself.

He did not give any mercy. Ruthlessly driving into your hips with a force like he wanted to merge into you, you felt his girth stretch and force your walls to mould into its shape. “Huh...?” Your mind went blank with pleasure, and for a while you couldn’t comprehend what happened. Your insides clenched down hard on his cock as slaps of skin punctuated the silent night air.

“Ah! Ggh- Aah! W-wait! Ungh —!” You slurred inaudibly as you felt your body rock to his merciless pace, your cock dribbling endless pre-cum uncontrollably. He promised your pleas and cries would be unheard and he served his promise, not even a single word could leave your raw throat. Only guttural whines and moans would escape your bitten lips as you fell into the throes of pleasure.

Alas, decisions were made and you could not regret what you said. Here you were, getting your deserved punishment in the form of a ruthless fucking.

Everything was too hot, too sticky and hummed with the sound of distant sobs, you groggily thought. Oh. Those were from you. Your skin was sticky with the sheen of sweat and cum and the futon beneath you was drenched. You felt unusually full, like something sloshing in your tummy. Your hole felt sore. And he wasn’t done. But you would never admit defeat….was the last thought that echoed in your muddled mind as you gave into the embrace of sleep.

“(Name)? Learnt your lesson now? Oh. The silly thief has admitted defeat.” He pushed back his sweat soaked hair as he glanced upon your slumbering form. Letting out a grunt, he pulled out of your red, swollen hole as semen immediately began dripping out your gaping rim. Humming an exasperated sigh, a fond expression appeared on his face as his lavender eyes crinkled into crescents as he gently ruffled your hair.

The little kitsune had fallen into his trap.

Sometime ago, Ayato had noticed his belongings going missing. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t deserve the title of Yashiro Commissioner. The thief clearly had no ill intent, but it became particularly vexing when he realized that the pair of gloves Ayaka had gifted him had mysteriously disappeared as well.

Then one day, by sheer coincidence, he noticed the little kitsune who had caught his eye more than once, wearing a familiar ribbon in their hair— his ribbon. And on their hands, the very gloves he had been missing. Amusement flickered in his usually composed gaze as everything clicked into place.

It seemed someone had developed quite the habit. But Ayato wasn’t the type to let such things go unaddressed. Oh no, if this little fox thought they could slip away unnoticed, they were sorely mistaken. Someone was in need of a lesson, and he would be more than happy to provide it.

So he plotted.

note: ajskskskk, I’m finally done 🙏 my first ask so I hope this was done well!

Reblogs are appreciated 🧑‍🍳

[nonuify]

Hey! I think the nsfw headcanons are so hot. Great work baby girl!

joshua headcanons (bf and NSFW like the one you did for seungcheol)? Or just the nsfw if you can't find the time.(I get it)

ᝰ.ᐟ 🌐 — H.JS ; ! boyfriend headcanons

sfw & nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+.

📓 ! i think shua is so sweet to you from beginning of your relationship like he would constantly worry about your comfort or anything regarding you.

📓 ! jisoo would get really flustered if you peck or kiss him even after awhile in your relationship he just loves you when you kiss him, it really has him feeling giddy.

📓 ! his love language is totally words of affirmation i think he absolutely loves you when you poor your heart out to him when you tell him how much he’s appreciated, but he also loves giving it to you, shua will always give you little love letters when you go to work, its just canon.

 📓 ! he had a really cute habit of sending you random pics all throughout his day like one of his meals, or him working in the studio or just him singing, he absolutely loves sharing his life with you.

📓 ! he admires your beauty even when your sitting doing nothing he would just bite his eyes into your ethereal figure & face wondering how lucky he got.

📓 ! you guys have matching bracelets or any kind of accessories together its a must to jisoo!!, he will let the world know your his even in little details.

📓 ! you know where in the movies the couples share some earphones while listening to music? yeah that’s you & joshua, sharing music with you is canon.

📓 ! everyweek he’ll take you on dates wether it’s a fancy restaurant or a simple picnic or whatever he will take you & spend time with his special person.

📓 ! with fights, i think he’s really calm about it it’s very seldom he’ll blow up on you even if he does he will spend the whole days after apologizing for it, cuz he’s just a sweetie :(

📓 ! with him you guys are like a black cat & golden retriever duo, so opposite yet so right.

📓 ! joshua is very smart at reading you whenever your sad about something, i think he gets worried so much abt you so that’s why!

📓 ! he’s such a hopeless romantic he will deliver flowers to you so much, with secret love letters wether it be passionate or intimate.

📓 ! he loves calling you angel, it just suits you so much & you call him shua or shushu.

📓 ! joshua is pretty chill, but when he thinks you e gone too far playing your little tricks he will get jealous, and his jealousy isn’t easy.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ nsfw starting from this point.

📓 ¡ oh he’s such a tit man, he will suck, bite & kiss your tits till their colors turn & till your a sensitive mess.

📓 ¡ yeah he’s a sweetheart but in bed he’s so mean, like i stand by the meanie joshua committee.

📓 ¡ he looves to spit into your little cunt or mouth letting you swallow it like a good girl, then making you thank him.

📓 ¡ he fucks his cock into your panties till they’re soiled & slippery with his milky white cum, he’ll send you the pic of it even.

📓 ¡ joshua will be mean but he praises you never ever is gonna neglect your pretty little pussy & how it’s making him feel he’ll coo you so much but don’t get me wrong if you’re a brat he will degrade you till your a cock-drunk mess.

📓 ¡ oh he’s a pussy-slapper, he will slap your little cunt till you spew out cum out of your abused hole & your a crying mess.

📓 ¡ shua loooves when you cockwarm him with your mouth, he’ll let you there for hours till he’s satisfied enough to replaced with your wet-needy cunt.

📓 ¡ when he’s feeling it he’ll let you top him but both of you at the end of the day he’ll pound you into next week.

📓 ¡ I think he has a big big thing for you riding his thigh till his pants are soaked by your juices or even cum, he’ll look at you fucked out face & moan.

📓 ¡ shua has a big fucking breeding kink I can’t put my finger on it but seeing his cum coming out of your hole, makes him all hard again he absolutely loves the thought of you bearing his children.

📓 ¡ but shua has his passionate love-making side, he’ll make you cry from how he’s putting in so much love in you like it’s absolutely heart-warming how he does it, the I love yous & moans amusing ears.

📓 ¡ his fav position is missionary totally he loves admiring your face, holding you hands while he pumps into you.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! i hope you enjoy this bby!!!

[voxisdaddy]

Sweets

C/TW: Mentions of sex but otherwise nothing bad.

Nah but imagine Vox knowing you have a crush on him and he’s thinking like, yeah I could take advantage of this—meaning ‘hell yeah I get laid and an attractive partner? Sign me up’. Regardless of what your relationship with him is, he is interested and down to fuck and have a possible sexual relationship with you from here on out. So he makes his move by inviting you to his personal living quarters in the Vee Tower. You walk in, heart fluttering about at the prospect your crush wanting to spend time with you, and are quickly met with Vox. He of course puts the moves on you; charming smirk, the correct choice of words, arm wrapping around your hips or your waist as he pulls you in closer to him. He hints at something—a burning desire. You’re flustered in his arms. He’s thinking, yeah he’s got this in the bag. But then you push on his chest and unwrap yourself from his arm. Wait what? “Vox,”—You’d start, “I’m flattered but…I’m not that kind of person.” You then excuse yourself and before Vox knows it, he’s standing alone in his living quarters. You’re into him? He knows this. What happened? Despite his annoyances with the results, he still persists. He spends the next several weeks trying to seduce you, flirting with you very sexually—not Valentino level but still sexually charged. Yet every time he gets shot down. One day he’s ranting to Velvette about it to which she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “Is sex the only thing you can think about?” Velvette whips out her phone, pulling up your social media pages, all your likes, comments, reposts, music playlists, shows and movies you watch, ect,. “They’re a romantic—A fucking sweet one at that. Taking advantage of their feelings just so you can get your dick wet whenever you want isn’t gonna get you anywhere, darling.” Vox spends a few days thinking it over. Okay so a more romantic approach. But he tried inviting you over! He even set the mood and everything. Though it was with the hope that…it would quickly lead to having you naked on his bed. He probably has some sort of mental war with himself about it too. Like why’s he trying so hard? It isn’t until he spots you on one of his cameras where he realizes he may want something much more than just sex with you. But is it too late? Did all his attempts at wooing you really scare you away? He watched with bated breath as you sat on a water fountain, gingerly typing away on your phone. You were wearing the loveliest looking spring dress/shirt. You looked so…beautiful. So sweet. So innocent. And romantic. A type of romance that seemed like it didn’t exist in hell. He was so mesmerized he didn’t even realize a second figure coming to sit next to you. He only realized when you put your phone down and smiled sweetly at the person. Who was this person? Why are you so close together? Why do you look like you’re blushing—? Oh. It’s a date.

As a hopeless romantic, reading Vox x Reader fics and so many of them having some kind of sexual undertone or more mature tone makes me kind of sad. I truly love tooth rotting fluffy romance. Think—picnic in a cherry blossom field while wearing the strawberry dress. So I wanted to write a little (not so little, it kinda got away from me) imagine where Vox’s idea of romance clashes with readers and it ends up only pushing them away. So yeah. Here’s that. I mean no disrespect to everyone’s fics of them tho—trust me they’re delicious in every way possible but I just really need to feed my hopeless sweet romantic side for a bit <3

[astriwilt]

Something I love is that one of Madoka Magica’s biggest themes is a theme you can find in any magical girl anime. “Don’t give up hope in a hopeless situation”. Sailor Moon, the PreCure series, etc. you can find this theme. And while I love those magical girl anime so so much; you have to admit that you don’t feel too much in regard to that theme. I mean, you feel for the characters you’ve grown to love….but you know nothing bad is gonna happen to these girls. And if something does happen to a character; it’s a stand out moment because of the series’ usual happy tone. Madoka Magica has been the only magical girl anime that has put the hopeless situation in “have hope in a hopeless situation”. People die, people are traumatized, horrible shit happens. Yet Madoka remains hopeful and Homura remains persistent. This hope that Madoka has literally changes the world; she stood up to despair and spat in its face. Even after all the horrid things she and her friends have been through….she says “no I’m not giving up”. You hear that from magical girls a lot “no I’m not giving up” but with Madoka it fucking hits. That’s what a lot of Madoka copycats don’t get about the show. They only see “middle finger to magical girl genre”. But Madoka Magica wasn’t a middle finger to the magical girl genre; the message of Madoka Magica is so magical girl at its core. A million people have made this point already, but I just wanna show my appreciation for it anyway.

[mystiquesvendetta]

Can we talk about how everyone, Raven especially, sees Charles as this naïve, arrogant and credulous man who hopes for the betterment of the world while being “ignorant” to its faults when in reality if anything he is the LEAST naïve one of them all.

He’s had to grow up and deal with the weight of hearing everyone’s most violent, disturbing, disgusting and innapropriate thoughts and yet he STILL has hope. That’s the complete opposite of ignorant if I’ve ever seen it. He may have unrealistic expectations when it comes to bigotry and equality and all that but how can one still have hope for a world when he sees just how hopeless its society is on a basis?

There was a holiday fic collection I read where on Father’s Day (ode to his comic backstory) he found himself in his fathers study telling Erik about how his father had passed. In this adaptation it was suicide, talking about how he could feel nothing inside the body, the mind, but complete emptiness. It went into how both of them know just as well as the other how deep and harmful the darkness that can encompass one can grow to be. How Charles’ darkness and grief and negative intrusive thoughts could be worse than Erik’s, if anything rival it. Everyone in the original movie series sees Charles as this hopeful, ignorant man wanting to change the word and its ideologies himself, and it pains me that so many people see and write Charles as this truly (in Erik’s own words) naïve man, when in reality he’s the most aware one can be of the humans and society as a whole’s, faults.

This also goes into Charles is powerful as FUCK and could kill anyone in a split second at the stop of a heartbeat but rarely if ever uses that ability. Raven accusing Charles of so much in Dark Phoenix, along with Hank, later, truly breaks me because he’s always been looking out for everyone and never does anything for his own gain.

(Fic is the Father’s Day one in Holiday Fic collection by luninosity on ao3)

Thanks for listening to my daily Cherik rant.

[muniimyg]

one: fuck it if i can't have us

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//

It began with a sundress.

Don't get it twisted just yet because the beginning of Yoongi's downbad era didn't begin with you wearing one... It began exactly 20 minutes after meeting you.

What a joke, right?

His friend, Seok Jin, had invited a group of people to his family's summer home. The summer home is near a lake and a small town. The shops often closed just before 7PM and that's when Yoongi saw you for the first time. As the group of girls ran to greet Seok Jin and them, you lingered a moment longer, staring at the sundress on display.

Your long hair blew in the wind like a movie. Your smile was gentle and the way it turned into a laugh took his breath away. As you take one more glance at the sundress, you make your way to join the group.

As everyone mingles and continues to roam around the town, you take your time introducing yourself to everyone.

That's the first thing Yoongi liked about you.

You took your time.

Your eyes looked into his a moment more than his heart was ready for. When your hands touched, he felt electricity. His eyes widened and if he wasn't so self-aware about his delusional mindset, he swears he heard bells.

The bells.

But then again, maybe that was just your voice saying his name. That's the second thing Yoongi liked about you. He likes the way you say his name. It made him feel something. It made him feel like someone.

Perhaps thats why Yoongi woke up at 7AM the next day and bought you the sundress. He knocked on your room door and left it in the bag. Half awake, you picked up the gift and laughed.

There was no note written or exchange of words during breakfast. Instead, there was you wearing the sundress and Yoongi's stolen glances.

Then again...

Maybe it was the summer air. Maybe it was the way the sun always set so perfectly behind you. Maybe... It's just summer.

Summer exists for the hopeless romantics. For the people that love with their entire hearts and feel the warmth of the sun beyond their skin. Perhaps it's the sunshine and all the couple-coded activities or the shared ice cream cones... Maybe it's the carnivals and outdoor movies... Who knows.

Whatever it is, summer's lovebug has bit and made Yoongi sick to his stomach.

It has to be today.

Your lips meet his before a simple “hello.” 

It irks him. 

His mind goes hazy, fighting to understand why he loves the way you kiss him so much but hates it at the same time. Was this it? Was this all he was to you? How could you kiss him like you missed him and not say anything? Did you not mean this? 

Did you not mean the way your lips crashed onto his with the kind of neediness he’s grown to crave? 

Did you not mean the way you slipped your tongue in, finding his, and somehow redefining kissing for him? It’s just so perfect with you. You kiss him so good. You kiss him just right. 

Worst of all…

Did you not mean it when you intertwined your fingers with his? How you hold his hand when you two kiss.. How you hold his hand when you ride his cock, grinding, moaning, and crying over how well he fits inside you? 

Oh. 

You must mean it.

Because if you don’t… He just might die.

Nothing devastates him more than the mere idea of you not wanting him back the same way he wants you. He craves for you in ways he can't even express with words.

You've bewitched him.

As you kiss him deeper, Yoongi breaks away from you like he's breaking away from a trance. He turns his head, backed up against the bathroom sink.

Real classy, by the way. Texting him to meet you in the bathroom while your friends are all wasted downstairs. But then again, why'd he even go upstairs and follow through? He was no better than you.

While you grow confused, an ache plunges into his heart. He hates doing this to you. He hates to be the reason why you could ever be confused with his actions because all he wants is clarity between you two. He wants it out in the open. He wants it to be crystal clear.

He wants you.

Yoongi catches the way your lips twitch. The way you gulp and inch away because you feel embarrassed. It hits you. The feeling of rejection... And he knows you well enough to notice how easily your feelings consume you. A part of him wonders if you know this about yourself... Do you know how much he wants to save you from yourself? How much he wants to give you constant reassurance and undying love? How much he wants to protect you and be your everything?

He wants it so bad it's beginning to ruin him.

To Yoongi, you're perfect. 

With that being said, he still acknowledges your flaws... Like the fact that you smell like a mix of sunscreen and vodka (which he hates) or that you are the most stubborn person he has ever met in his life. That's saying a lot considering his best friends are horny overgrown fuckboys in fiance. 

Yet, you take the crown. 

You win the title.

You are the only person in this world who can break his heart.

… And contrary to popular belief, Min Yoongi's heart breaks easily.

You must know it.

It's strange to Yoongi how quickly you switch up. How he knows any slight rejection from his end hurts your feelings instantly... But you react tough and cold to endure the agony that rots inside you.

So, he hates this. He fucking hates this.

God, do you even know what he would do to swallow his pride and just be what you need? What he would do to give up his self-respect and live to please you? What he would do to simply be yours?

It takes everything inside him to stand his ground.

Shyly, you place your hand on his chest. You feel his heart beating. It beats fast and loud like it's trying to tell you something. Feeling worried, you look up at Yoongi and ask, “Everything okay?” 

Yoongi places his hands on top of yours. Your eyebrows knit together from his touch. Like instinct, you try to pull away. Instead, Yoongi keeps your hand still. He holds them, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your soft skin. It’s comforting… But it scares you, to say the least. 

“___, I can’t…” 

That’s all he manages to say. Yoongi looks at you and it’s over. He’s lost in your eyes as if it’s the first time he has ever seen anything so fucking beautiful. 

You blink. 

“Can’t what?” you chuckle, looking down at his crotch. You tilt your head, wondering if he's just talking about his erection. “Are you not hard? It’s okay, bebe. I can help with that—”

“I know you can,” he huffs, “It’s j-just… It’s not that.”

Yoongi inhales sharply, eyes softening as he exhales. He looks at you... He really looks at you.

You gulp.

“What is it then?" you ask, trying your best to keep your tone consistent. "What? ... Are you ending this? I thought third times the charm? Hahahaa… I mean, i-it’s fine if you want out… I’m just confused why you want out. I don't want out—"

Feeling embarrassed, you pause. Your rambling won't change the way he is looking at you. He's looking at you so carefully. So lovingly.. It truly feels like an ending. Again, you attempt to drop your hands. Still, Yoongi holds them. 

“Yoongi—”

He holds your hands tighter. 

“D-don’t—”

He listens.

... And it’s odd. 

For some reason, you didn’t really want him to let go. 

“Is everything okay?” you attempt one last time. You ask this, completely unsure if knowing if for his sake or for yours. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “Far from it, actually. Everything is everything but okay.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you hurt? Did I do something—”

“Everything,” Yoongi begins his confession. “It’s everything but you. It’s everything but us.”

Suddenly, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. That’s what this feels like… It’s this weird anticipation that you never saw coming. But it’s here and it’s quite literally taking your breath away. 

“I’m confused—”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Yoongi confesses. His voice is gentle but stern. You hear every word crystal clear, yet you stand in complete disbelief.

“Actually, no… I am in love with you. I’ve known it for two summers now. I know it for the remaining nine months you ignore me. And I… I, uh… I d-don’t know w-what to do anymore. I’ve tried just about everything and everything…” he takes a second to pause, breathe in, and muster the courage to give you the rest of his heart.

“I'm out of ways of avoiding it. I've been trying to ignore this, and I just... I'm so tired, ___. I don't know what to do… I want every season with you.”

Your throat is dry.

Your hands tingle like they could go numb any second now.

God, there's a pressing feeling in the pit of your stomach and you aren't sure if it's because you're so nervous right now or if you just really have to pee.

Either way, you feel stuck.

You can't find any words to say and your mind runs through a million and one thoughts. From the very beginning, you always thought moments like these only existed in stories.

This couldn't be true...

This was a sick joke.

It has to be.

"Are you going through a heat stroke or something?"

He blinks at you. Realizing he's not kidding around, you put your guard up.

"W-why are you saying this?" you ask, practically choking on your words. "We're fine, Yoongi. You don't have to care about this more than we agreed to. You don't have to lie to—it’s summer! Come on! We have fun and—"

"___, I have never been so honest in my life!" he snaps, awfully offended. "You're not allowed to tell me how I feel. I just spent the past fucking nine months trying to figure my shit out—y-you... You can't tell me I figured it out wrong."

Unconvinced, you poke at his truth again. "Yoongi, seriously, are you fucking with me? This isn’t cool. You’re not funny.”

"Your birthday is my passcode. Do you think that’s cool? Am I funny for doing that?”

You snicker, “a little. Didn’t I do that? Why haven’t you changed it—"

“Take a wild fucking guess,” he hisses.

You tighten your lips. “I… I don’t—”

"I tried, ___. I tried so fucking hard for you. I swallow my pride every time you call me up. I pretend like it doesn't matter when you ignore me come September. I have done everything I possibly can to shove, suppress, and forget about my feelings... But I can't do it anymore. I don't want this anymore..."

In disbelief, you take a step back. "So what? You're done with me because you love me or some shit?"

"N-no! I'm saying I want more for us!" Yoongi hurries to explain himself. "I want us. I want everything, though. I want the morning texts. I want the dates. I want the anniversaries. ___, I want you twelve months a year—"

"And the sex?" you interrupt him, "what does this mean... For us then? For this arrangement?”

"Is that all you care about?"

A beat.

"No."

Yoongi takes a step toward you. "I can do it," he promises you. "I can fuck you all you want. I can eat your pussy out to your heart's desire. I can do and be anything and everything you want, bebe…”

"... So? What's with the confession? If nothing was going to be different—I'm still confused. Are you ending this or not?"

He laughs.

"No," Yoongi tilts his head and gives you half a smile. Your stomach twists and turns when he does this... You feel winded.

Was he always this handsome?

"Fuck, I’m so nervous my words are everywhere… No, ___. I’m not ending us. I could never do that to you... Or to myself. God knows I'd do everything to be with you... So, I'm changing the narrative. Yeah... Let's say that."

"Say what?"

Yoongi reaches to you, pulling you in by your waist. Resting your chin on his chest, you look up at him and bat your eyes. He'll fold, right? He loves it when you do this. Instead, he smirks and leans in.

Against your lips, he murmurs softly and slowly; "___, I'd do anything for you."

"Good. Then let's do this—" You reach to kiss him. “Let’s fuck.”

He stops you. “Do you not get it yet?”

You shrug. “Get what?”

Yoongi feels his heart beat faster and faster. You look at him, desperate to make it out of this conversation. Desperate to make it work—but your uneasy heart finds it easier to resist than to give in. 

So, Yoongi does it for you.

Yoongi does it first.

Giving in, he tells you; "Okay… You want to fuck? Fine. We can fuck… Under the condition that you let me be your boyfriend, because fuck it if I can’t have us.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sweet Home

idk how the multiverse works so im just fucking up the worldbuilding but basically my hc is that whenever a dimension suffers trauma (too many ppl leaving dimensions, rift in time etcetc), it will create a shield around itself, preventing anyone from entering or leaving as it works to self-correct. 

(Yandere, dark, kidnapping, captive, delusional behavior, gn reader, implied deaths, talks of bombs)

Yandere!Miguel O'hara x reader

Honestly, you weren’t much of a threat. 

It was a rather misfortunate case of wrong place wrong time. One second, you were in your home, mulling about. The next, you were across dimensions. 

At least, that’s how it was explained to you. You had no idea there could be more than one spiderman, and now you were surrounding by millions. Maybe even billions. Here they all were. Heroes, all working together to save the multiverse, returning innocent people, like you, back to where they came from. 

But, according to Miguel, you were a special case. 

“It’s not too hot, this time?” He asks, his face in the same scowl as always. Before, you assumed he hated you. Now, you realize the man had a hard time showcasing emotion. 

It’s still there, though. You can see the concern in his eyes as they soften ever so slightly, as if he was remembering the scalding hot tea that burned your tongue. 

You tasted it, smiling at its perfection. When you mentioned you preferred something sweet, you had almost choked on the lump of sugar at the end of the cup Miguel prepared. After that, he was much more lenient with sugar. 

Ever since, you were put into his custody, he made it very clear your comfort would be his top priority. You never considered a superhero agency to be comforting, but the room he lent you was spacious and had a warm fluffy bed, food was always delicious, the guilt-filled gifts were always nice. It was clear the man spared no expense. 

“It’s perfect,” you say, “thank you.” 

He gives a smile. Though, it’s strained, like he’s not sure if he’s doing it correctly. He finally gives up, staring down at your techband. It wasn’t as sophisticated as his, you understood why you couldn’t have one, you were just grateful it stopped you from glitching. 

“So...is there anything new?” You ask, careful to broach the subject. 

You couldn’t go back home, not yet. It had taken a while for you to calm down when you were first brought here. You had been terrified, fearing for your life surrounded by these strangers who all strangely resembled spiderman. It was Miguel that had talked you down. He wasn’t patronizing, didn’t coddle you, but he wasn’t unkind. 

He explained things carefully. When you had been ripped from your dimension, something had gone wrong. The dimension had closed in, as if it were a living creature defending itself, an armadillo creating a thick shell. No one could go in or out. 

So, here you stayed at the spiderman’s headquarters, temporarily dimensionless. 

You peered into Miguel’s face. He was tired. He always looked tired. You wondered if he was getting enough sleep. Guiltily, you knew you were partially a reason for that. 

“Nothing.” He sighed. “We still can’t communicate to your spiderman, nor can we break into the gates. So far, no progress.” 

You had a feeling that’d be the case. You gave a strained smile, feeling more and more hopeless. 

“Hey.” His hand was warm on your shoulder. “I’ll find a way to get you back home, I promise. Don’t give up on me just yet.” 

He was close, leaning in just so your faces were inches apart. Miguel was just being kind, you knew that. But his height and stature had always intimidated you. A part of you was sure he knew that. It was why he would always hover over your, like it was some way to subconsciously keep you in check. 

It was an absurd thought. As always, you shook it off. 

“And besides, if we can’t, you’re always free to stay here.” He gave a lazy wave to the spacious room filled with gadgets you couldn’t even begin to describe. 

 It was a joke. You knew that. Miguel was adamant about ‘anomalies’ being returned to where they belonged. You were certain he would’ve thrown you back into your dimension if the situation were different. Yet, just the thought of staying here forever, never seeing your friends or family ever again tugged on your heart. 

You appreciated everything Miguel had done for you, he had gone above and beyond, but you were lonely. Due to protocol, only Miguel was able to see you. You understood it, but it didn’t mean you were not allowed to have human emotions. 

You longed for home. 

He must have seen it in your eyes because he pulled back some. The lines on his face hardened ever so slightly. He was angry. Not at you. Never at you. 

“You done with that?” He changed the subject, gesturing to your cup. 

Nodding, you return it to him gratefully. He stands up, grabbing the remnants of lunch and dirty dishes. 

“I’ll be back.” He tells you, and he’s assured you plenty of times that you weren’t, but it was hard not to feel like a prisoner as you watched him leave through a metal door. 

You waited for ten seconds, and then you rose from your own seat. 

There were only two rooms you had access to. Your own, and then Miguel’s office. 

Well, it wasn’t really an office. It was a large computer room, but Miguel always worked here, and you always kept him company, much preferring the companionship of at least one human rather than the solitude of your bedroom. 

Over time, he seemed to trust you a bit more. Or maybe he started underestimating you. Over time, he had accidentally given you most of the passwords to this place, not really paying attention as you not-so-secretly spied on his work.

You felt a little guilty for snooping, but a part of you was frustrated. You’d been stuck here for weeks, with no concrete answer. Miguel always seemed to evade your questions. You wanted an explanation. Assurance. 

Strangely enough, you felt a little old as you clumsily operated a machine that was decades into the future. It was a humbling experience. You typed in your dimension number, a sequence you knew by heart. 

Huh. 

You weren’t sure what a closed dimension looked like, but it certainly wouldn’t look like this. It looked fine. Despite your minimal experience with looking at dimension maps, you could tell the gates were opened. You could even see tiny dots flitting in and out. People.

Everything looked fine. 

Then...why did Miguel say you couldn’t go home? 

“What are you doing?” 

You hadn’t even noticed he’d come back. He had been so silent. Like a spider. 

You whirl around to face him. For the first time, you realize you’d never actually seen him without his signature blue and red costume. His face was stony. His demeanor had changed, as if earlier he was actively trying to pretend around you. Before, he used to slouch slightly, his hands would drape awkwardly at his sides. Now, his back was straight, arms ready. 

You’d never thought Miguel as threatening before.

Still, you try your best to loosen the sudden tension in the room. You give a sheepish smile, hoping it doesn’t wobble like your heartbeat. 

“I think my dimension just opened up,” You mutter, halfheartedly pointing to the screen, “Does this mean I can go back home?” 

He steps forward. You inch backward as he makes his way over to the computers. All the screens shut off. You can barely see him in the dim light. 

He works he jaw, like he wants to tell you something but can’t. 

Despite your heart going a mile a minute, you don’t want to be scared of Miguel. The only friend you had here. You bite your lip, gaining all the courage you could. 

“Did you lie to me?” It was a stupid question. Of course Miguel would say no. He wouldn’t do this to you. He couldn’t. 

His eyes slice into you. Crimson. 

“Yes,” he says simply, “I did.” 

You weren’t expecting that. You couldn’t have. Your mind was whirling, desperately trying to piece together an explanation. 

The tears burned in your eyes. You forced yourself to keep them at bay. 

“Why?” It was barely a whisper, you weren’t sure if he had heard you. 

He rakes his hand through his hair. It was something he did when he was stressed. You’d once jokingly told him that if he kept doing that he’d go bald. 

You had joked with this man. 

“I was going to put you back,” He said, almost like he was pleading to you. As if you were his judge, his executioner, and not his helpless prisoner. 

“That was the plan. I was going to put you back but...” He sucks in a breath. He gives a laugh with no real mirth. 

“But then I realized how much safer you’d be here.” 

You didn’t understand. You take another step back. He follows. 

“Your dimension opened back up two weeks ago.” You’d been stuck here for three. “Communication has resumed like normal. I lied about that.” 

It felt like a sick prank. Like he would suddenly start laughing, telling you how gullible you were. 

But it feels even worse when he doesn’t do that. He just stares, almost like he feels sorry for you. 

You don’t want his pity. 

“You haven’t met your dimension’s spiderman, have you?” He suddenly asks. “He’s a good kid. But that’s all he is. Just a kid. Thinks everything comes easy. His fate is worse than most.” 

“His recklessness causes a bomb to detonate. 126 people die.” His gaze is stiff on your figure. 

“Including you.” 

You freeze, staring at him, unable to move. The word of your death still lingered in the air. 

“I told myself I’d send you back,” he continues staring into the dark screens, “But you were so sweet and you made me feel so-” He cuts himself off with a huff. 

“I always have to make the right decision. Every time.” He finally says, looking back at you. 

“Just for once, I wanted to be selfish.” 

“Miguel-” 

“I won’t.” He interrupts. “I’ll keep you here. I’ll keep you safe. I always keep things that belong to me safe.” 

You don’t like how he phrased that. You don’t like anything about this. This didn’t sound like your Miguel. 

Or did you even know him? Was the weeks of kindness all an act? A ploy to keep you satisfied?

Look how wonderfully that worked? You walked right into his trap like a stupid butterfly, struggling in the sticky webs. 

“You said it yourself,” you whisper, “I’m an anomaly. I can’t-I can’t stay in a dimension that isn’t mine. I could cause rifts-or-or even worse disasters.”

You try to throw his words back at him, hoping it’d knock some sense into him. He just gives a hum at your attempts. 

“Not if you stay here,” he replies, “Not if I keep you contained. Keep you here.” 

You shake your head, stepping back. This felt like a nightmare. The tears were falling in full force, down your quivering chin as you stare at him. 

“You-you can’t do that,” You mutter, backing up against the wall as he makes his way towards you, “You can’t do that.”

He crowds you against him, hushing you as he bundles you up to his chest, stroking your hair. He’s so warm. His scent of woodland mountains is so strong. He suffocates you. You hadn’t realized it until just now. 

“I know you don’t understand.” Miguel replies, sounding so genuine. It makes you sick. “But you will. One day. One day you’ll thank me for saving you.” 

Saving you. This wasn’t saving you. This was keeping you. This was killing you. 

“I want to go home.” Your voice breaks, cracks under the weight of his confession. “Miguel please. I-I need to go home.” 

For the first time, he smiles. A sincere smile. 

A condescending smile. Like you’ve said something adorably naïve. 

“Mi amor.” He purrs, affectionately kissing your cheek. 

“You are home.” 

[captain-barnes-writes]

Solace

Summary: In which finding comfort in the arms of Bucky Barnes after Steve leaves turns into something more.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, past relationship with Steve Rogers

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Language, smut smut smut, unprotected sex, --18+

NOT PROOFREAD

Was it wrong to seek comfort in the arms of your ex boyfriend’s bestfriend?

Frankly, she knew it was. How wrong it looked in the eyes of others. She always questioned the choice she’d made all those months ago. The very conscious decision to kiss and find herself on top of Bucky Barnes whenever possible.

They both didn’t mean for it to happen. Y/N had found solace within Bucky after Steve just up and jumped into a time machine to live out his life with a woman he could never forget . Another decision that had been well thought out and conscious of the heartbreak and loss that it would ensue for those closest to him, especially the girl he’d told countless times he loved.

Her.

The person he’d shared more than a year with. It had been her who had been hurt the most, feeling blindsided as though she had meant nothing to him. As though she had not been enough for him to stay.

Now, she couldn’t really fathom to think of Steve Rogers much. Not when Bucky Barnes was on top of her. Not when she felt utterly consumed in his presence. And especially not when his metal arm was wrapped around her throat.

Fucking each other came so easy to them. The attraction had always been there, buried deep beneath the loyalty and respect they both had for Steve. But when the months passed and their paths crossed many times after that loss, it was quite impossible to not give into the longing looks.

God, it had really been impossible for them. Not when all she could focus on was the pink of his lips as he talked, her lashes fluttering as she tried so hard to keep her composure. Meeting his eyes didn’t make anything better because if she wasn’t staring at his lips, it was his eyes that really did it for her. The beautiful blue in them luring her in further into the attraction that once couldn’t be, and yet they both knew there was nothing stopping them any longer.

For Bucky, it was the same. The front of his pants tightened whenever he found himself in her presence. She was beautiful and he would’ve been lying to himself if he said he hadn’t found her attractive ever since the day they met. He’d never been a hopeless romantic nor did he believe in fairytales, but the tingles he felt when he first reached for her hand and she’d instead pulled him in for a friendly warm hug had literally made him shudder. He had laughed it off, still denying the feelings she’d lit inside him.

So when they both found themselves stumbling into her apartment after having met for dinner, it had been no surprise that their kiss sent tingles down each of their spines. It was needy, passionate and in the same way it felt like relief as well. Relief that they could give into something they had both yearned for a while and not feel any guilt as nothing was stopping them.

That had been months ago when they both succumbed to the fiery passion that had only been lit aflame with time. Now with a month of not having seen each other, it felt as though each of them were missing a little part of each other.

For Bucky, it was satisfaction that he felt too. To be able to feel the softness of her skin under his fingers, but most especially of his metal fingers on her bare skin and that she didn’t care, that she welcomed the cold of his prosthetic with breathy moans.

She breathed out, her eyes shadowed with pure admiration for the handsome man laying above her on the couch since they couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. It should’ve felt wrong, but it didn’t. It felt phenomenal to be wanted by someone like him. He was Bucky Barnes, who rarely showed his true emotions but with her and their common grief he’d been nothing but a light at the end of the dark tunnel she thought she’d never come out of.

“I missed you, Bucky.” She dared to say, voice soft yet laced with so much lust. It was simple to admit that she’d missed him. Every part of him. Him, his smile, his crinkly eyes. 

Just him.

Pretty lips so swollen and red, eyes wide and expectant as she looked at the handsome man above her. He couldn’t form a coherent response to her for a minute as he was on top of her, kissing those lips he’d had a craving for for too long.

“I missed you too, baby.”

She was addicting and he still couldn’t believe that he could touch her and she’d allow it, that she would visibly revel in his touch. That she wanted him just as much as he did, it was evident. Evident in the way she always kissed him, scratched at his back and moaned his name loudly into any room they found themselves wrapped up in each other.

His metal arm was cold against her skin, but despite this it didn’t bother her. The rest of his body radiated warmth and was enough to soothe her. His hands moved from being a tangled mess on her hair to her legs where he signaled for her to wrap them around his waist. She did so and felt every ridge of his strong body with her curious hands, from his hard stomach to his growing cock. Her hands swiftly unbuttoned his pants and slid her hands under his boxers. He was already rock hard and her nimble hands wrapped around the warm thick shaft, slightly squeezing him.

Their lips were still meshed together, unable to part from one another. Meanwhile his rough hand had pushed down the thin cotton pants she was wearing, showcasing her lavender panties and soft skin. His fingers pushed the delicate fabric aside and began to rub circles on her lips with his palm, while his fingers had arched down to work on her nub. At this, she pulled away from his lips to let out a breathy moan and her hand, too, had come to a halt in his boxers.  

He continued to rub his hands on her most sensitive area, building up what he could imagine would shatter her in the most beautiful way. His middle finger had slid inside her and his lips had attached to her neck sucking on her sweet skin. She smelled of honey and vanilla and tasted like it too and he’d be lying to himself if that didn’t make him harder. Y/N’s moans were music to his ears and he wanted to hear more of her, his body slowly moved downwards, kissing his traveling down and pushing her shirt up in the process so he could place wet kisses on her breasts and stomach.

Finally, he reached her most sensitive area and without hesitation, attached his lips on her clít. His tongue massaging the smooth area, lapping at her juices. Bucky’s metal arm had placed itself on her breasts, moving slowly against her nipple. The cold metal had made her shiver once but it brought another sense of excitement that she was unable to hold her head to keep watching him expertly lap at her clit. Her body was starting to shake at what Bucky was putting her through, it was a sweet sensation. Her stomach was starting to tighten, preparing her for what she knew would be a shattering orgasm. Feeling the slight shakes and whimpers from her, he quickly halted his movements.

“You’re gonna come when I’m inside you.” He said, voice laced with lust at the sight of her naked body sprawled on the large couch desperate for him to keep touching her. To get her to that finish line that made her mind and body swirl with incomprehensible joy. Her eyes were half closed, still in a high.

Her lips had attached to his, tasting her essence on his lips and tongue. It was exhilarating to her, being able to touch him and feel how warm he was. She broke free from him urging him to take his clothes off. With pure admiration in her face, she watched as he pulled his sweats along with his boxers down his legs. He was handsome and she was really about to fuck him yet again, she felt like the luckiest.

“Fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

He didn’t waste a single second before he was sinking his length inside her. Filling her to the hilt, until her nails met his back. The usual crescents forming on his back as she relished in the feeling of once again having Bucky inside her. Of being able to feel him and kiss him once again after months.

He felt so good fucking her. His hips already creating that same pattern that she’d come to love. Rough violent movements showing her how much he’d missed her. How much he’d missed the sweet taste of her, her juices in his mouth, the feel of her around him squeezing him.

“Baby you take me so fucking well.” He grunted as the girl below him could only moan in response. She felt delirious, entrapped in the feeling of being fucked into the cushion and enjoying every second of it. She loved it like this. So rough and loving all at once, hips slamming her and yet his hands still managed to carry their gentle touch. Running through her hair, caressing any part of her body where he felt she most needed it.

“You feel so good.”

“Yeah?”

With a bite of her lip, she fought against the roughness of his movements pushing her body upwards to meet the pistoning. She was more wet than she had ever been, the liquid a mess on her legs, on his, and on the cushion. She fucked him back knowing how much he loved that.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” Bucky said, voice low as though he didn’t want her to hear. But she did.

Their eyes met and all she could do when words failed her was to push her body up and take his lips between hers. Kissing him so fervently as he continued fucking her. She felt the same, she could never get tired of the man before her. She could never get tired of how their bodies molded so well together, how their lips met and suddenly everything was alright.

He was everything to her now. The past was just that now: the past. She didn’t think of Steve, not when she was with Bucky, not even when she was alone. Not when he appeared in magazines that still talked about captain america, of his trajectory, not when he came up in conversations as she walked by. That’s how she knew that she had truly moved on.

“Fuck Bucky, I’m gonna come.” She squealed as his metal hand began rubbing slight circles on her slick. The coldness of the prosthetic was just enough for the release her body needed. His dick was hitting her most sensitive spot inside her pushing her further and further from herself and within seconds, she was moaning his name into the room loudly.

Just that alone, seeing how he could get her to come so easily with his touch, Bucky began chasing his own release. She was wetter, pussy juices flowing down her legs and the slick noises of their skin slapping against one another.  Her walls spasming around him, constricting him so fervently that his release too followed within seconds of hers. Hips faltering and groans filling the room. In their own world, high off each other.

“I could never get tired of you either, Bucky.” She said against his chest moments later once they’d both came down of their high. Letting him know that she’d heard him and she felt the same. Chests still heaving, still tired and sweaty, but their hearts full yet again.

I’m so rusty lol but hope you guys like it 🫣

[xodarling]

can you plsplspls write something with the reader realizing she might actually be falling for rocker!beidou and hating herself for it but she can't stop?? pls on my knees (like during mid-fuck maybe or during aftercare)

sorry, i don’t want your touch. - xodarling

includes: fem!reader, this is barely smut focused, but it does have smut, angst idk, fluff kinda, riding, handjobs, making out, love confessions, comfort, crying, blowjob, dom!beidou, toxic relationship, happy ending yippee, down bad!beidou, ooc beidou prob, horrible standards

a/n: NO. fine. this is SOOO out my comfort zone so sorrgy if it sucks (it does suck)

beidou just… aggravated you to no end. she has this dumb smile on her every time she sees you and her eyes just light up when you make eye contact. just insufferable! the fact that the sex in this what was supposed to be transactional relationship was amazing made your anger so much worse.

after the marathon of fucking in her garage, beidou really took the time out of her day to care for you. despite, her legs being wobbly and her soul being drained. she cared for you, she ran you a bath and ordered takeout from your favorite restaurant, as a lover would do. it infuriated you to no end how she seemed so selfless in this relationship.

cuddling was nice. it’s been almost a week since the garage and your mind hasn't forgotten beidou’s pampering. always thinking about it, analyzing every detail of those memories. how she treated you like you were made of porcelain, how she kissed every mark she left on you, the way she held you, and how she whispered in your ear until you fell asleep. each thing she did made you angrier.

but why? most would love being treated like this by the bassist. girls love her, yet she chose you. it got you mad, like always.

sex was the one thing about her that didn't make you enraged. she was good at using her dick and you would gladly take it. it became common to have sex regularly, it was useful, it put your mind off your hatred for her and it felt good, double win. like now, the two of you swapping spit on her bed, both of your hands under clothing and caressing each other.

her compliments made you sick to your stomach, the way she cooed at your whimpers and chuckled when you bucked your hips, it was all so annoying. “you’re cute.” she whispered into your ear, pecking your cheek as you pumped your hand up and down her shaft. her pants were pulled down enough so her cock could be exposed, its shape was the only thing you liked about her, right? right.

the two of you lying down next to each other felt romantic, her arm around your shoulder felt protective, and her gaze on you was soft. even as you grope her cock with your hand, beidou shows nothing but love for you. it’s obvious she sees sex as something between two lovers, nothing like how you do. god, how insufferable this hopeless romantic is.

“am i?” you question teasingly. “of course you are.” ew. internally, that made you gag, but you didn't show it. instead, you slither down the bed to be at eye-level with her dick. your lips press themselves onto her tip, humming at the taste of her pre-cum. beidou groans at your kisses, your lips are soft against her skin, and it feels good. one of her large hands goes to the back of your head. part of you wants her to grab your scalp and fuck you like a common whore. but she doesn't.

she treads her fingers through your hair, looking down at you with a sort of gaze only seen in those vintage romance movies. you quietly sigh and wrap your lips around her tip, lowering your head further and further down her length, till your lips reach the base of it. even as you deepthroat, bob your head ferociously, and gag on it, she still treats you with kindness, with love.

“god, yes...” she sighs, smiling to herself. her other hand goes down to hold your own, embracing your fingers with her calloused ones. your lips and throat feel like heaven around her cock, it was warm and wet, and it felt a million times better because you were sucking her off, not some random groupie, you. your abdomen tensed up, the love that she felt toward you was like no other, and that made her orgasm hurl towards the end.

she lets out a guttural groan, arching her back as her tip began to pour out cum. you push your head all the way down to the base, eagerly swallowing all of her seed. there was a lot of it, her eyes were screwed shut as she grunted with each rope. after a few more seconds, it stopped, and she sighed out of relief. that stupidly handsome smile formed on her face again, and she chuckled some more.

“you were always so good at doing this.” she sighed, letting go of your head and hand, “but i think i want more.” her eyes had a glint of playfulness in them, she stared at you like you were her sun, her moon, and her stars, she treated you like you were a deity. she sits up, resting her back against the headboard of the bed.

you licked up a few stray drops before sitting up as well. a smile was on your lips, but you weren't happy to be with her. she made you warm, but it wasn't an in-love kind of warm, it was an angry one, you think. “oh, yeah?” you raise your eyebrows, “i think i can help you with that.” your hands get placed on your shoulders, gripping them so you could maneuver yourself to be right on top of her erection.

you impatiently sat down on her dick when your eyes met, she always has that stupid look in her eyes, and you wanted to rip her face off. the pleasure of impaling yourself took your mind off the anger, you let out a moan while she sighed again. her hands went to your waist as you began your riding. no words were spoken between you two. good, just how you like it.

your arms slithered around her waist as you rode her ferociously, skin slapping against skin loudly. your head was thrown back in pleasure, she was so big it made you forget everything in your life, all your worries. it was just the pleasure beidou’s cock made you feel. your train of thought was cut off by beidou’s lips wrapping around your nipple, gently sucking on the sensitive bud.

even as you rode her aggressively, she still kept her touch soft, like you would break if she went too hard. you huffed and went harder, the pleasure was doing a horrible job of masking the anger, so you got more desperate. your mind went to how she felt inside of you and how big she was, her tip ramming into your g-spot with each bounce. it felt good, being fucked like this, without needing to think.

your mind went blank, the pleasure took over again. the feeling of beidou’s cock took it all away, your riding her and sucking was driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. you wanted it. you needed it. and you were so close, it felt so good. your moans got higher and higher, your nails dug into her skin and your muscles were tensing up. oh, so close.

“you look so pretty right now.” that husky voice whispers, you widen your eyes when you hear it and you’re met with the sight of a woman, a woman pathetically in love with another. all of a sudden, that warm feeling was gone, despite your continued riding. your eyes met hers, her irises looked gentle, like a puppy’s or some innocent animal that knew nothing but to love. and it got you furious.

all of a sudden, that sweet euphoric high you were chasing disappeared. your bouncing stopped and the slick between your thighs now felt cold and uncomfortable. your stomach twisted in disgust at the harsh realization, your brain didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to accept that this brute who was nothing but muscle had your heart right in her rough palms.

you remember how her eyes would look for you through every crowd her band had performed to and lit up when she saw you. you remember how on the first valentine’s day after your relationship was official she went above and beyond for you in all things romantic. you remember all the times she protected you, how she kissed you, held you. you… loved it.

everyone around you saw you as no good. a burden. a gold digger, a narcissist, someone not to associate with. it was foreign to be treated so nicely and be shown love… care, and affection. beidou didn't mind your fits or insults, she would take all your attitude with a big smile on her face and a bouquet already ready in her hands. your mind is running rampant, and it makes all you're trying to hide and push down feel more real, more intense.

your eyes began to water. beidou deserved better, you knew this. she deserved more than some gold digger who only cared about herself, she deserved more than you. she needed someone who loved her and wasn't afraid to admit it. she deserved someone who could give you more than you ever could. no matter how hard you tried. with the way she looked at you, you had no choice but to process your feelings, and they hit you like a ton of bricks.

you felt horrible about yourself. what the hell are you doing? using this hopeless romantic for sex and money when all she does is love you unconditionally. beidou doesn't deserve someone as disgusting as you.

“babe… you okay?” she mutters, straightening her posture and loosening the grip she hand on your bare body. you hate her. you hate the way she has the nerve to treat you like this when all you’ve known is being pushed away. beidou noticed your discomfort, the way your arousal faded away, and began to pull out. any other asshole you fucked would keep going, but she didn't.

you look down and shake your head, “no…” you whisper, “no, i… can’t do this…” your mind is saying one thing, and your heart is saying another. you can’t accept it, out of all things, this is the one thing you cannot let happen in your life. you can’t be in love with beidou… you can’t, you just can't.

“woah… uh, it’s okay. we… we don't have to continue if you don’t wanna.” she tries her best to affirm, to give you solace. it does the opposite. her kindness was unfamiliar and it made you feel the need to put more walls up, more than the ton you already have. you huff, “just… stop..!” your mind was already everywhere, you didn't need beidou’s kindness to further infuriate you.

she opens her mouth to protest then decides against it. good. she blinked rapidly at you. you raised your voice at her, and that never happens. you clench your jaw and then start again, “what are you getting at, beidou? what’s your goal here?!” you hated her. you just wanted to punch her face mercilessly for the way she makes you feel.

“my… my goal? what do you mean?” your muscles were incredibly tense. she made you angry, “your goal in… this! what are you trying to do?! why are you being so nice!?” you push her a bit out of impulse. the two of you were still connected, her being inside you. but there were zero signs of arousal, just anger, and confusion between the two of you. “being so nice? you’re my girlfriend! why wouldn’t i treat you nicely?”

you stare at her with fury in your eyes, your heart racing sporadically, “some people are nice to each other ‘cause they like each other, not to use each other.” she says in a calmer tone, reassuring you with her hands gripping your shoulder. you can’t accept it. there’s no way, you truly thought that romance this pure was only in romance movies for losers with broken hearts.

your heart was accepting your love for her, it was warm, and it felt like something that came straight from fiction. but your brain didn't let it happen, being seen as weak, and showing love, wasn't normal for you. those tears you desperately tried to push down were climbing back up, and in an attempt to hide them, you look away.

“babe,” beidou whispers, “i love you, a lot.” her voice was soft, you found that disgusting. each attempt to push them down made them rise even quicker. your eyes quickly started to pour out single tears, little by little, beidou sighed and pulled you closer to her, head resting under her chin. “hun, it’s okay…” she murmured, combing her fingers through your hair. gentle, like how a lover should.

your mind was in turmoil, the warmth beidou gave you battling against the discomfort all of this gave you. this started as a way for money, but now it feels like it's so much more. you now craved beidou, you could easily leave, pretend she doesn't exist. but you can't, you need her. the two of you sat in silence for minutes, those were the calmest, yet most tense minutes of your life. the thoughts in your head were the only things you could fully process until the action of beidou pulling out ripped you away from your mind.

“what are you doing?” you sniffled, voice stuffy and uncharacteristically weak. “oh. i’m just assuming we won’t continue…” she says under her breath. however, her words fall on deaf ears. you lean up and stare back into her eyes. your hands cup her cheeks, eyes admiring the handsome face you loathed with all your life up until a few minutes ago.

“beidou.” you sighed. her eyes did something to you, and it wasn’t like when you were just a groupie, it was warm but not that kind of warm. you wanted to kiss her, hold her hand, go on dates with her, cuddle. you already did all those things together, but now, it didn't feel like a chore to do. you wanted to gossip about anything and talk the night away with her, you wanted her to buy you flowers and you do the same back.

“when we started dating, beidou… i thought you were obnoxious.” it felt like you were getting rid of tens of thousands of weights off your shoulders, and it was nerve-wracking saying it, but you just… couldn't suck it up anymore. if you did, you would never tell her how you felt. ever. “and i thought that i would never fall for you, that i’m just gonna use you for money and shit. but… but, you’re such a sweet person and i don’t know a lot about relationships but i know you deserve better than this…”

before she could protest, you spoke out again, “i’ve been… lying to myself and to you. you’ve made me feel things that I hated, and you’ve done it so selflessly.” your face was hot with shame and embarrassment, and your vision was blurry with tears. “i’ve just kept you around so i could spend money and get laid. but… i don't think i can just keep lying to you like this. i’m horrible for you… but i’m too selfish to let another girl have you.”

even amid this horrible confession, she still reaches up and wipes away those tears that fall. her hand was warm, and it was nice to have her show affection. “so… i’m sorry.” you cringe saying that, but it feels nice letting go of everything. “i’m sorry for lying to you, using you, and for treating you like shit. but… i love you, beidou.” dear god, if you just yesterday heard you say that you’d flip. but it’s true… you love her, even if you keep trying to gaslight yourself.

it was silent, you weren’t given any response from beidou so you were left alone with a hurricane of thoughts in your head. your embarrassment worsened by her silence. it would be great if she said something, or even gave you that cliche kiss after a confession. but, it was just silence. nothing. you nervously chewed on your lower, fiddling with the sheets on the mattress.

“cute.”

that’s all she had to say? cute? if you weren’t on the verge of a mental breakdown you would’ve slapped her so hard. but, you didn't. beidou notices the furrow in your brows and pinches your cheek, “it’s okay…” she chuckles, looking off to the side as she begins her side of the story. “y’know, i didn’t really care about the way you treated me, i thought it was kinda hot...” her eyes have an unfamiliar glint in them, and yours do too.

“so, i love you too.” she proudly smiles, her pride gleaming harshly, showcasing all of her feelings to you just from a gaze, her happiness made your brain short-circuit. apparently, what’s in those romance movies made for losers with broken hearts is true, because all you want to do is kiss her until both of you turn blue, and then some more. so that’s what you do.

your kiss was delicate, she held you and kissed you like you were made of porcelain, her rough hands keeping a possessive grip on your body. both of your lips slotted against one another, it was a perfect fit, like two puzzle pieces or like magnets. hopefully, this relationship would fit together like that as well. it’ll take time, but that time will come.

unfortunately, oxygen is needed to stay alive, so the two of you pull away. both of you look deep into each other’s irises, admiring the way one looks at the other. the stillness in the air was disrupted by you letting out a snicker, “what? what’s so funny?” beidou questions, “nothin’, just think you’re cute.” you make an excuse and cup her face in your palms, rubbing her cheekbones with your thumbs.

her eyes gaze down. oh, right. your breakdown was kind of a mood killer. “are we gonna… continue, or…?” she mutters. it takes a moment for you to decide, “how about we take a bath instead?” she hums in acknowledgment. the two of you were cold with sweat. gross, a bath would be very appropriate in a situation like this.

she huffs while standing up with you in her arms. the walk to the bathroom was filled with kisses, whispers, and small fits of laughter. it felt soft, and your attitude was nothing like what it usually was, totally unlike you. but, it felt comforting. beidou felt comforting. even in the cold bathroom, your core felt everlastingly hot because of the butterflies she gave you.

it’ll take a while for both of you to get the gist of a relationship, a healthy one at that. but learning and growing is part of the process, right? who would’ve guessed that this nimrod actually managed to steal your heart?

[cevansbrat0007]

Promises, Promises

Summary: Ari exacts a promise from you as a reward for his patience.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Needy Ari Levinson, Implied Smut, Light Oral Sex (fem rec), Allusions to Public Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for my sweet friend, @curls-and-eyeliner. Just a little Ari Levinson goodness. Not sure if it has a place, but for now it's going to fall in line with my Trio Series.

___

“C’mon. C’mon.” You murmur as you try and fail yet again to maneuver the thin leather strap of your heel through the small silver buckle. “Almost – you little piece of shit!” While the shoes were wearing tonight paired phenomenally with your dress, you were starting to feel like the effort to fasten them just wasn’t worth it anymore.  

Sometimes you really fucking hated heels.

Huffing out a breath, you allow your body to go limp before collapsing back against the chair in defeat. You’d been at it for the better part of ten minutes. And frankly, at this point, you’d much rather go barefoot than have to fuck with this shoe one more time. 

Ari would just have to understand. Maybe if you asked nicely your man would get onboard with you rocking a pair of sneakers to tonight’s medal ceremony – even if they did manage to clash with your overall look.

“Ready to go, Bird?” Ari calls out from the bathroom. “I don’t want us to be late.”

“Almost!” Comes your frustrated reply, just in time for him to rejoin you in the bedroom. He gives you a thorough onceover, his soulful blue eyes darkening as he scans you from head to toe. Grinning, he runs his fingers through his already tousled chestnut brown locks.

Ari Levinson was virtually hopeless when it came to styling his own hair. The moment he got even a little remotely agitated or flustered he became unable to keep his hands out of it. Lucky for him, he somehow always managed to look positively sinful no matter what. 

And tonight was no exception. 

“Fuck, baby…” He rasps.

“I swear I’m almost ready.” You hurry to reassure him, thinking that he might be annoyed with you. “It’s this damn shoe, though. I can’t seem to fasten the stupid strap and it’s pissing me off.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” He mumbles, seemingly to himself.

“Well you could either give me another minute or you could help…” You trail off when your beast of a man drops to his knees in front of you before plucking the offending heel from your grasp. It drops to the floor with a soft thud. “...me with this clasp. What–what are you doing?” 

“How am I supposed to take you out now, looking like this?” His already deep voice lowers several more octaves. The comforting weight of his large palms go to rest on the tops of your thighs.

A sinking feeling enters the pit of your stomach. Perhaps you should’ve given your boyfriend a peek at your outfit beforehand instead of waiting until tonight. That way if he didn’t like it you would’ve had time to figure out a backup dress.

“What’s wrong with the way I look, Ari?” 

“Absolutely nothing.” His intoxicating gaze bores into you, making you feel dizzy even as goosebumps raise across your flesh. “You look stunning, sweetheart. Like a vision and a wet dream rolled into one.”

“Oh.” Is all you can seem to manage, his whispered compliment taking you by surprise. 

Although you’re not quite sure why. You could walk around wearing a pair of his boxers and a raincoat and this man would still be ready to bend you over the nearest flat surface and fuck you stupid. 

“And honestly, as excited as I am to have you on my arm this evening, I don’t know if I still want to go.” One hand slowly trails down your leg, the slightly roughened pads of his fingers smoothing their way over your calf to gently grip your ankle. 

“B–but…tonight’s supposed to be a celebration. And you’re the guest of honor.” You rasp, your mouth suddenly dry as Ari presses a tender kiss to the inside of your bare foot. 

“So?” He gifts you with another kiss, this one accompanied by the faint brush of his tongue along the inside of your ankle. “You and this dress have me thinking about all the ways we can celebrate right here. From the comfort of our home.” You feel your pulse begin to quicken. 

“We can’t.” You gently admonish as you try to pull away. But his hold remains steadfast. “Besides, if you stay down there much longer –” you gesture towards his position on his knees – “you’re going to wrinkle your pants, assuming you haven’t already ruined the crease.” Your big beast of a man quirks an amused brow in response.

“I’m serious, Ari Levinson.” You blow out a shaky breath, wishing you sounded more confident. “Now, you help me with this shoe so we can get out of here. At the rate we’re going, we’ll be lucky if we’re only fashionably late.”

“Is that right?” Ari’s eyes light up at your words, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “That an order, baby?” 

“Uh huh.” Of its own accord, your hand reaches out to caress his freshly trimmed beard. Ari sighs quietly and leans into your touch. “You’d better believe it, Beast.” He growls low in his throat, the animalistic sound making your nipples pebble through the material of your bra.    

“Well then I guess I better do as my lady says.” A hint of mischief creeps into his tone, coupled with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to upset my gorgeous girl now would I? But before I do that, I’m also thinking I’m gonna need you to make me a promise. Can you do that for me?” 

Ari loosens his hold on your ankle only to drape your leg over one of his broad shoulders. And then his hands move to the hem of your dress, slowly rucking it up your thighs to stop just below your hips – revealing the lacy scrap of black fabric hidden beneath.

“Y-yes.” 

“In return for being such a good boy, I’m gonna need you to promise you’ll let me fuck you tonight. And when I do, I want you wearing nothing but these heels.” He leans forward and buries his face in the sweet juncture located between your parted thighs.

“Okay.” You could definitely do that.

“I get to choose the time and the place. But don’t worry, baby. You have my promise to keep you wet and ready for me until I decide on the perfect moment.” He then inhales your scent, nuzzling his nose against the increasingly damp lace. A muffled groan escapes when he does it again. His grip tightens as his fingers dig into your skin.

Almost as if he’s already regretting his decision to agree to leave the house.

“Ari.” His name emerges as whimper, soft and pleading. 

“Promise me, Bird. Promise you’ll reward me for being so good. For showing restraint.” Each spoken word feels like a heated lash against your panty-covered clit. “Please.” Ari sucks the bud into his warm mouth, making you cry out as your thighs clench around his head.

“Yes!” You hiss as he continues to tease. 

“Say my name again.” He rasps, flicking the swollen nub with his tongue. “Say it just like that when you make your promise.”

“Ooh, Ari!” Your hips buck and writhe beneath his sensual assault. “Yes, okay? I promise!”

A primal sound bursts forth from his chest – a something between a snarl and a purr – as he forces himself to pull away. “Okay.” He grunts, his breathing slightly labored.

Ari doesn’t say another word as he goes about picking up your forgotten heel. He slips it on your foot and deftly buckles the strap as if he does it all the time. Your body is on fire as you prepare to sit up and fix your dress, only for your man to stop you with a hand on your belly.      

“I plan to wear you out tonight, baby.” Two long, thick fingers hook themselves into the waistband of your panties. “Swear to God, you’re gonna feel me for days.” 

The sight of your man’s feral grin is your only warning before the flimsy piece of lingerie is all but ripped from your skin, eliciting a shocked gasp from you. Ari rises and tucks the ruined lace into his pocket before helping you stand on shaky legs. 

Ever a beast, he proceeds to haul you against his solid chest. And then your eyes flutter closed as his mouth descends over yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him as your hands fall to his biceps, holding on to him while he takes his time with you. His talented tongue dues with your own in short, playful thrusts. One of his hands slips to your ass, giving you a rough squeeze. 

When it’s over, you’re both breathless. And the impressive bulge in Ari’s slacks makes it obvious that he’s ready for more. A clock chimes in the distance, breaking your reverie. It’s a not-so-subtle reminder that you two needed to leave soon. As in now. 

“Guess we’ll just have to pick this up later.” You murmur, even though you have yet to move.

“Damned right we will.” Ari growls, his eyes glittering with unbridled lust. “So you’d better keep your promise.”

“And if I don’t?” You tease, finally finding the resolve to pull away. He lets you go before walking over to the bed to snag your clutch. Meanwhile, you busy yourself with fixing your dress. 

“You will.” Your man hands it over before linking his fingers through yours and leading you down the hall towards the stairs.

"I mean, but what if I change my mind?" You tamp down a giggle. Now probably wasn't the best time to tease your man, but you just couldn't seem to help yourself.

"You won't." Ari assures you once more before halting his movements. He turns to face you again before tenderly grasping your chin in his hand. "You'd never do that to me, sweet girl. But if you did, I suppose I'd just have to remind you of what happens to little brats who break their promises to their men now wouldn't I?" His lidded eyes practically dare you to disagree.

"Y-yes." You whisper, swallowing thickly as he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip. "I'll be good."

"Well, thank goodness for that. I'm so glad we have an understanding, baby." Ari purrs, allowing his hand to fall away as you resume your procession towards the door. "Because I'd be pretty pissed if I had to fuck you in the middle of the banquet hall in full view of everyone." He opens the door and ushers you into the garage, smacking your ass for good measure.

"But that also doesn't mean I won't."

END

[anantaru]

I feel like kaveh has a love/hate relationship with covkwarming… like yeah he loves that he’s inside you and he feels your cunt squeezing his cock, but like it makes him want to move yk? It’s both bliss yet a painful torture for the poor hopeless romantic <3

and it‘s turning kaveh sensitive to the core, he‘s shaking, panting— growing frustrated when you close around his vulnerable length but don‘t move, you wouldn‘t, because it‘s tastier to leave him there, stilled, his tip pressing and peppering your glistering insides. "i can‘t— i cannot." kaveh fumbles through his scattered words and holds himself into you with one hand being grounded around your hips, your pussy clenching, uncoordinated and needy. "no no no." you interrupt his trailing thoughts, "you can, i know you do." and pull yourself towards him with a soft laugh. His cheeks offer nothing more than a red tint and you cradle them kindly with your palms as he leans into your handle, "just a bit more and you can fuck me." you heave out in between pants while grinding down, feeling how his length reaches and slides so much deeper— better. "you- you promise?" he sobs, messy tears forming under his lashes, "i do." and when you whole heartedly agree, your sweet boyfriend kaveh twitches in you, bracing himself, aching in agony but also from excitement, from having you frantically bounce on his cock later.

[mariacallous]

I plan on voting for Biden in November.  But it’s terrible.  A vote for him is still a vote that will not significantly improve our deepest and most troubling social problems.  He won’t give us Medicare for All or any other badly needed boosts to social programs.  He will probably continue to support policies that actively oppress BIPOC.  He will not help us.  He’s also a sexual predator.  Truly, I do not want to vote for this man.  This is not the man I wanted to vote for.  I don’t want him in office.  He is simply not good enough.  This man doesn’t represent what I want at all.

But if I don’t vote for Biden in November, I feel like I’m making it that much easier for Trump to win another election.  And I want that even less than I want a Biden presidency.  I don’t want another 4 years of what we have now.  No fucking way.  No.

I’m so conflicted.  I feel like there is blood on my hands.  I feel like I’m casting a vote for death and misery if I’m not voting for a progressive candidate with a progressive platform.  I feel like I’m committing nothing short of an atrocity no matter what I choose to do.  I don’t want to harm people, and yet, won’t I essentially be doing exactly that?  I just want to do the right thing.  I don’t want to bring harm, or perpetuate harm towards anyone.

Trump will probably win anyway.  He’s doing all he can to ensure that, and it will probably work.  The impending climate disaster will kill us all because we will clearly continue to do nothing.  Our bodies will be riddled with micro and nanoplastics.  America will become an even more of an inhospitable police state.

 Nobody will hold Biden accountable for anything if he wins, and he’ll never give us the public policies we desperately need. 

“Is this what hope feels like?  I’d forgotten,” you tweeted recently.  How?  And for what?  I see nothing but bad things to come.  I feel a deep sense of hopelessness and despair.

There are plenty of reasons to feel hopelessness and despair right now, but with regard to Joe Biden, you are wasting a whole bunch of negative emotions on a giant pile of shitty beliefs that just aren’t true.

First, and let me be very clear on this one, Joe Biden is not a sexual predator. He’s just not. Believe me, I would be shouting it from the rooftops if I thought he were. When Tara Reade went public, I took her allegations very seriously. I gave her extra helpings of the benefit of the doubt, but it turned out there was a mountain of evidence suggesting that Reade has always been a lying, manipulative grifter (which I didn’t want to be true), and there was another mountain of evidence suggesting that the predatory behavior alleged by Reade is simply not in Biden’s character (which I was very reluctant to trust). There was a time when I was hopeful that Reade’s accusations might even knock Biden out of the race, but I’m not the kind of person who believes a thing merely because I want it to be true. It’s fine if you want to criticize Biden for what appears to be a history of awkward or retrospectively inappropriate behavior. Hell, you can even buy into all that “Creepy Uncle Joe” bullshit, but you’re just plain wrong if you insist that Joe Biden is a sexual predator. (Obviously, the same cannot be said of Donald Trump, who is a straight-up serial rapist with a list of at least twenty-five women who have publicly and credibly accused him of sexual assault.)

As for your policy concerns, I understand your frustration. I would love to be voting for a far-left ultra-progressive firebrand of a candidate in the upcoming general election. That would feel wonderful, right up until the moment that she loses in a landslide, and I guarantee you, a far-left ultra-progressive candidate would get her ass handed to her by Trump. That’s not an outcome we can afford as a species, much less as a nation. You understand this, which is why you still plan on voting for Biden. Good. I’m really glad you’re not being a purist asshole about this. The evil garbage monsters in the GOP just love a left-wing purist who refuses to vote responsibly. Republicans are desperately praying to their imaginary white Jesus that all the Green Party crunch bars will fuck it up for the rest of us like they did back in 2016. We cannot let that happen again.

Listen, I’m not gonna try and convince you to like Joe Biden. You’re already gonna vote for him, so I’m perfectly fine if you hate his breathing guts. What I do want from you is a little maturity, some vision, and a realistic sense of scale. No one candidate will ever be the solution to our problems — not Bernie, not Liz, and certainly not Joe. At best, a candidate is a vector, a course correction, a desperately needed step in the right direction. That’s all we can expect from Biden, and he is bringing it. He’s bringing it every single day with a list of policy positions that are more progressive than any President’s in the history of the United States, and he most certainly brought it with the selection of Kamala Harris as his running mate.

Biden recognizes his place in history. He knows he is little more than a national stop-gap, a post-Trump tourniquet to stanch the bleeding. His Vice-Presidency and eventual Presidency will be a line of demarcation between two very distinct chapters of American history. This is more than just bridging the Boomer/Millennial generational divide. In the distant future (if we have one), it is my sincerest hope that Biden will be remembered as “The Last of the Old White Men,” a happy warrior who marked the end of a certain kind of Modern America and who helped usher in a new kind of Postmodern America. Those terms are clunky and loaded and absolutely will not stand the test of time, but we’re not the ones who get to name what we’re about to become. We’re the ones who have to keep doing the hard work to finally get us there, and that’s why I really need you to change your whole fucking attitude. 

This shit is going to be grueling. The fight will be brutal if not bloody, and there is absolutely no room for whiners and layabouts. You want to improve our deepest and most troubling social problems? Great. Quit moaning about doing harm with your vote and go do some actual good with your own two fucking hands. Pulling a lever in a voting booth every couple years is the bare minimum. In terms of civic duty, it is the absolute least you can do. Of course Biden won’t give us Medicare for All. Neither would Sanders or Warren. That’s not how any of this works. Presidents don’t give us shit. We do it ourselves. We demand it, loudly and with force, and over long stretches of time, with enough solidarity and sustained action, laws are enacted and policies change. 

I was around when the Clintons tried deadlifting their universal health care plan off the ground back in 1993. Maybe you remember it, maybe you weren’t even born yet, but that’s how long this shit takes. It’ll have been three fucking decades and two fucking generations of Democrats trying desperately to kick that gutbucket up Capitol Hill by the time we finally get around to some semblance of a single payer healthcare system. Thirty fucking years, my friend. That’s the kind of patience and perseverance the American experiment demands of us, so quit your fucking whining. Enough with all the pearl-clutching and hand-wringing. Take all your conflicted navel gazing bullshit and toughen the fuck up, buttercup.

You are on the right side of history. You are with the good guys. Quit your fucking bitching, and get out there and help us win.

[yourlocaltreesimp]

Chain getting complimented by their crush!

PT: 1 Time, Twilight & Wild

PT: 2 Sky, Four & Legend

Inspired by a submission from @fandomsarefamily1966, Thank you so much lovely! Hope y’all didn’t miss this series (or forget about it lmfao)

۵♡۵

Sky

Look, we know our boy is love-struck. It doesn’t take a genius to find that out.

Immediately weak in the knees with how hard he’s swooning.

Know that one panel of him with all those hearts around his heads and that wobbly smile as his inner circuitry just melts?

You could walk away and he’s just so enthralled in you, beautiful, amazing, talented, stole his heart from his chest you.

“Mornin’ Sky!” He was certainly glad that the first thing he heard upon waking up was your chipper, sing-song voice.

It was secret to about no one that he was trying and failing to court you. He couldn’t help the way his heart raced and his lungs didn’t draw air. But he was more that ok to have you consume his every waking thought so long as- shitheprobablyshould’verespondedtoyoubynow

“Good morning” He smiled, perhaps a little too wide for someone he ‘held as a close friend’ But then again, how could he care when it was your hand that ruffled his hair with a stifled laugh.

“You’re cute when you wake up” Platonic love his ass- He was sold. Yours until the end of time and his spirit had been laid to rest at long last. He leaned further into your hands, sighing as your nails scratched his scalp.

He’s such a hopeless romantic.

But he’s fine if it’s for you.

Four

Utterly hopeless like Sky, but a different brand.

For him, all it takes is the slightest bit of conformation that he is, in fact, wanted and cared for by someone he cares for so that he crumbles.

And that’s a tough psyche to break, contrary to a lot of belief.

Under most circumstances and situations, he is calm and rational. The colors usually had their harmony, one carefully managed by each pushing and pulling at the consciousness to retain a personality.

But you? You make that fly out the fucking window.

Any sense of previously held sense gets abandoned in favor of you. Memorizing you, cherishing you, loving you— if you’d let him.

The second he found an empty clearing his mind had already unraveled. The loose strings of thought had already been unwoven, each voice loosing and sense of sensibility within a short few minutes.

“Hylia above-“ Blue immediately took to kicking the nearest rock, trying to rid himself of such a foreign feeling.

“No use calling on her” Green sprawled out across the grass, staring into the wide expanse of sky in an effort to coax his mind off the linger of your voice.

“Not now anyway. Not with our devotion spent elsewhere” Vio sat beside where Green had laid, trying to find some footing within this. Logic usually held no place within love. Yet why was it that you captured him to?

“Where we’re thanked so greatly and paid in kisses” Red, stood unmoving from exactly where he split.

“Forehead kisses” Blue mumbled in correction

“Bet you wish they were somewhere else, don’t you?” Violet quipped, looking over his shoulder as Blue had an epiphany… or an aneurysm. It was hard to tell.

“Guys.”

“I know I do.”

“We know.”

“Guys!”

“Among other things.”

“We know!”

“Guys!” Three heads swiveled to look at him.

“Are we going to do something about this or are we going to just…” He gestured vaguely to his surroundings.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Legend

Would rather die that admit he caught feelings.

Not that he hates that he loves you. Quite the contrary. There’s a very soft, very precious part of him that loves you.

A part of him he used to bear freely.

The part of him he’s learned to hide away behind layers of prickly attitude and rude jabs.

But make no mistake, he holds you to a high degree.

He almost reverts in a sense, flipping back to that gentle loving before remembering who he’s learned to be.

“I love your rings” You whisper absentmindedly as you fiddle with his aching hands, massaging out his weary joints. It’s the most comfort he’s had in a long while, i’m multiple ways. His knuckles eased of their hollow sting, His hands warmed by the hold of another’s, his heart full and well tended to.

One day, he wishes he could give you one. Perhaps one with a protection charm…. The resistance cover…. one from the binded pair?

That thought makes him happy— a ring on your finger.

“Enjoying yourself there, Vet?” Twilight teased from behind him somewhere.

“Fuck off.”