#so embarrassing. i feel veteraned.

[demobatman]

writing an entire novel to leave in the middle of mine and my friends minecraft realm because my fucking dogs died (edit: my Minecraft dogs. not real dogs. i realize this sounds like it could have been real dogs. oh man)

[eky11]

He's electric ⚡

[wayfinderships]

Peak Panchi behavior is is liking a fictional man for years and being filled with feelings of yearning for him almost every month without fail...and then not adding him to the f/o list-

[newfeeling77]

i could post so much crazy shit now that i have like no followers. i used to have this fear that ppl irl would find my blog bc its soooo easily identifiable as me with my name on it and all the talking heads stuff n my manner of speaking like youd know its me. so id refrain from saying shit like yeah i have a mildly obsessive crush on this guy i work with or one of my profs. now its whatever its just me and 250 of my closest friends hashing it all out

[akkivee]

what was really funny about that hayama-san sakakihara-san in cat ears moment, besides that skit’s premise being two brothers fighting over the last pudding lmao, was that afterwards komada-san was a little surprised their skit was so clean despite not even discussing it at all like how????

and sakakihara-san answered, as best as he could when his character setting for the event was a very wary and skittish towards everyone young man, ‘thru eye contact 🙂’ lmao like they knew what they wanted to do just by looking at each other their bond just genuinely shone thru 😭😭😭😭

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[nyankochan]

Cloudcalling on the Savannah

Synopsis: It’s time for the yearly Cloud Calling Festival in the Sunset Savannah. It’s Leona’s first time home in years and there’s more than one reason why he’s avoided visiting.

Pairings: Leona Kingscholar x lioness!reader (she/her pronouns)

Content: fluff turn smut at the end, vanilla sex, virginity loss

Word Count: 4.2K

A/n: bonus points for catching all the Lion King references.

I headcannon that Leona speaks another language at home, like Swahili or something that he speaks when he doesn’t want people to understand his conversations.

15 years ago

Leona grunted in pain, trying not to bite his tongue as you pinned his frame to the mat. Even though you were way smaller than him, you managed to overpower him with ease and flip him on his backside.

“Pinned ya’,” you say with a toothy grin, your baby canines poking out cutely.

“Get offa me,” Leona grumbled, trying to push you off so that you wouldn’t see the ways his cheeks started warming from embarrassment, not even from losing but rather, your close proximity made him uncomfortable for some reason.

You gleefully let him go, Leona rubbing his shoulder that was now achy from the way your nails dug into them. “That’s two wins for me, and none for you~”you tease.

Leona growls and while you weren’t paying attention, lunges for you. The two of you tumble to the ground once more, but you swiftly manage to roll the two of you over. You sit on top of his chest, keeping his arms pinned to his side.

“Pinned ya again.”

Your hands feel warm against his. Your ears twitch slightly in excitement, something so small that most people don’t notice, yet Leona has developed a subtle knack for picking up the littlest things about you. From the way you style your bangs slightly to the left and how you prefer your meat grilled when the two of you visit Raintree Market. However, when it just comes to fighting, your senses outshine his. But with your mother being a renowned veteran amongst the Palace Guards, Leona believes you came out of the womb fighting.

“Tch whatever. I’m done.” Leona shoved you off, standing to leave the training room.

“Ehh? But I want to spar more! Isn’t it fun!?”

“No,” Leona answers flatly. “I’m gonna go take a nap.” Your ears flatten in disappointment.

“Boo you’re no fun.” Nonetheless, you follow the young prince along like a guard, yet you ramble away about anything and nothing at the same time, immune to his annoyance.

If Leona were to be honest, he found you highly annoying. The only reason why you two were forced to spend any time together was because of your parents. If he had it his way, he’d rather spend his day napping or perhaps playing chess. Nope. Because of you, he gets dragged along with your shenanigans most of the time, and he can’t say no without you running off crying to your mother or Neji scolding him about being nice.

You were a real thorn in his side.

“Heyyy Leona…Leona…Leona! Are you listening to me?”

“Not one bit,” Leona responded, making you huff in annoyance.

“You know what! When we get married, you’re gonna finally listen to me!” You suddenly proclaim, making Leona stop abruptly. More like, he ended up stumbling over his feet. You not paying attention walk right into him.

“Huh?! W-why in the world would I marry you!?” Leona yelled, trying not to stammer over his words due to the fact that he was so caught off guard by your statement. Marriage?! You two were 5. That kind of stuff was disgusting! He’s seen how his parents act and he wanted no part in it.

“Neji said we will,” You say as if it were the most obvious thing. “So, when that day comes you’re going to listen to me, Leona Kingscholar!”

Leona, despite his efforts, found himself grinning. Then laughing. You continue to huff and pout, not liking being made fun of.

“Sure,” Leona said in between laughs. “And when that day comes, I’m all ears.”

Present Day

Leona was annoyed, more than usual. He had just arrived home for the Bead Brawl and the Cloudcalling festival, and things weren’t already going to plan. Well, nothing had gone to plan from the moment Neji called and so graciously reminded him to come home this year, so he couldn’t skip out like he originally planned. Then, not even 10 minutes into arriving at Sunset Savannah, Jack suffers from heat stroke and they have to detour to Sunset Villa for him to get proper medical treatment.

While at the Villa, they find Kalim, who was a guest on behalf of the Scalding Sands Al-Asim family, to which Leona makes him a substitute on the team in lieu of Jack.

“Whatddya say, Kalim? Your ‘friends’ need your help?” Leona says, without a hint of sincerity.

“Leo having friends? Never would’ve seen the day.” The new voice makes Leona stiffen. Suddenly a pair of hands cover his eyes. Though his vision becomes obscured, he doesn’t have to look to know who the grating voice belonged to. “Guess who~”

“I despise guessing games,” Leona retorts.

“Boo~” The person lets him go. “You’re no fun.”

Leona sighs, rubbing his temple in annoyance. “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re here, Y/n. I’m sure your mother’s stationed here for the festival.”

It’s been maybe a couple years since he’d seen you. He actively avoids coming home for many reasons, her included. When he does come home for the holidays, he does everything he can to avoid you. In recent years, with your training for the palace guards, you’re too busy to even harass him.

Since the last time he saw you, you’ve slimmed out more and gained more muscle. The uniform doesn’t look baggy on you now. You’re still short as ever though.

“Neji told me you were finally coming home,” you say, somewhat coldly. A complete change from your earlier bubblier persona. “You enrolled in a prestigious school and now you’re too good for us back at home, huh? I can’t even get you to respond to a text nowadays.”

Leona rolled his eyes. “You still like picking fights over dumb stuff.” Now, he’s gathered an audience, his classmates staring in confusion and wonder at the lioness that suddenly appeared. “Everyone, this is Y/n L/n. She’s the daughter of the palace guard’s head commander. We grew up together.”

“It’s nice to meet Leo’s school friends,” you say, teasingly. Leona just clicks his tongue in annoyance while the Night Raven College students go around introducing themselves.

“Miss Y/n and Prince Leona are betrothed, set to be married by the time they’re 25,” Neji interjected. He gives Leona the side eye. “You’d best use proper titles when referring to your future bride.”

Hearing that Leona Kingscholar was engaged, set to marry in only a few short years surprised Grim, Yuu, Kalim, Vil and Lilia nonetheless. Even more strange, Leona and Y/n seemed more like annoyed roommates than what one would expect a future husband and wife to be.

After everyone gets changed into their liongarb (no one comments on the fact, though it’s noticeable, how the color of Leona’s clothing complements Y/n’s), the group goes down to the Raintree Market to explore some of the city.

You and Leona play tour guide, all while bickering between yourselves. If Leona suggested something that you didn’t agree with, you counter with your own. You also throw no shortage of sly comments Leona’s way whenever he complained about his brother, his leadership skills, or how the country would benefit to actually harvest their resources instead of leaving them be. Not that you didn’t agree, but if Leona were actually home more often, he could implement some of the good ideas you know he has.

It’s a mixture of uncomfortable and entertaining for Grim, Yuu, Kalim, Vil and Lilia.

“It’s hard to believe they’re actually going to be getting married,” Vil deadpanned. “It may be a good thing they aren’t taking the throne.”

They watch in amusement as Leona approaches what looks like some sort of kabob stand. You had been standing there staring wide eyed, mouth slightly agape with drool. Without asking, Leona bought two and gave them to you. Your face warms, and you mutter something along the lines of a thank you as you take the food.

“I don’t know,” Lilia laughs. “I think they have their own strange way of showing their affection.”

“Miss Y/n and Prince Leona may not look like it, but they’ve always been close,” Neji explains, watching the couple with an amused look. You tug on his sleeve, pointing at another stand while nibbling on the food he had just bought. Leona seemed to sigh, rolling his eyes as he lets you tug him along. “The L/n family has protected the royal family for generations. Prince Leona and Miss Y/n did in fact grow up together, but she was always trained to be able to protect him and his brother, Farena.”

“How did they end up being betrothed?” Yuu wonders.

“Prince Leona’s parents and Miss Y/n’s mother thought it would be a great way to unite the families. After all, why not if relations between the two have always been good?” Neji then sighs. “Unfortunately, those two have always had a knack for causing trouble. They both slack off on their duties, Prince Leona more so. However, Miss Y/n’s seemed to focused more on her duties as of late because it keeps her distracted from Leona’s absence.”

“Aw it sounds like she misses Leona-senpai,” Kalim commented.

“Though she never will admit it, it does bother Miss Y/n when he doesn’t come home,” Neji confirms. “She keeps a stubborn guard up, but I think she truly loves Prince Leona. As for Prince Leona-“

The influx of patrons makes the Raintree Market all the more crowded. Leona doesn’t even seem to realize what he does. He’s just being a gentleman (for once) in his eyes when he guides a hand at the small of your back to keep you close. His tail swishes back and forth, ears standing on alert while you order a dessert. You offer a spoonful of the custard treat to Leona, who boredly takes a bite.

Who would dare mess with the fiancée of the Prince of the Afterglow Savannah? Especially when he was around.

“He’s quite overprotective, you see,” Neji says. “Although Y/n’s trained her whole life to protect the royal family, I’m sure Leona would lay down his life to ensure her safety.”

~*~

At the end of the day, the Night Raven College team returns back to Sunset Villa after several practice rounds for the bean brawl where a feast had been prepared to welcome all of the esteemed guests. The current strategy Leona had come up with was to have Kalim as vanguard, Vil as the middle, and for Lilia to compete in the final bout as the anchor. Though practice went well, to say that he wasn’t worried still was an understatement.

“You look more annoyed than usual,” you say, plopping down beside him on the couch. “All your friends are enjoying the music and the barbecue and you’re sitting over here like a bug on a log.

“It’s nothing,” Leona responds, taking a bit of food off your plate. You huff in annoyance. You eye the stage where Kalim, Grim and Lilia joined dancing with the performers. You stand, putting your plate to the side.

“Come on.”

“Hah?”

“Come dance with me,” you say holding out your hand.

“What? No way,” Leona rolls his eyes.

“Please Leo? Humor me?”

At your plea, Leona sighs. He stands, grabs your arm and pulls you to a rather obscure corner where there aren’t many onlookers. You two were forced to practice this traditional dance so many times as kids, you both could do it in your sleep. Even though he may not look it, Leona is a great dance partner who guides your movements in tangent with the rhythm of the music.

“You really don’t want to do those lessons, don’t you,” you finally speak, switching to the native language of the Afterglow Savannah so that your conversation is relatively private. “Dragging along your classmates in this little scheme of yours. You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, ya know.”

“What can I say,” Leona answers back in the same language. “I don’t want to waste my time on something so pointless and boring.”

You roll your eyes as he whirls you around. Leona’s eyebrow quips when he notices something strange as your hair flutters up. Did you always have that scar on your collarbone? “If you actually did your job, then maybe we could see some real changes here. You sell your ideas short.”

“Doesn’t matter. In the end, I will never be king. And you will never be queen.” The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s disappointed. Sad he’d never be able to give you the title or the throne if married to him.

“I don’t care about being Queen,” you say quietly. “Things like that don’t bother me. I just want to stand with you as your equal.”

When the song concludes, the two you stare at each other for a beat too long before separating. A small audience, much to your embarrassment, had gathered to watch the two of you dance.

“Never thought I’d see the day where Leona would dance,” Vil mused.

“Ohh! You should join the pop music club!” Kalim excitedly suggested.

“What a great idea,” Lilia agreed. “The night’s just started! Let’s continue the party!”

“I’m surrounded by idiots.”Leona sighed, rubbing his temple, though only you picked up on it. You snicker under your breath. “We’re calling it a night. The tournament is early tomorrow and we all need our rest. So off to your rooms.”

Kalim and Lilia seem defeated, like kids told they couldn’t have dessert. Nonetheless you all disperse and start heading towards your own separate rooms.

“Y/n, where’s your room?” Leona asked. His classmates’ ears perk up at the sudden language switch. They didn’t know Leona was bilingual.

“Fourth floor. Why?”

“Come with me real quick to my room.”

Of course, as the second Prince of the Afterglow Savannah, Leona has a private suite that’s honestly like a mini apartment. His room overlooks the city which seems to glow as the sun sets. Though you’ve grown up here all your life, the sunset never ceases to amaze you.

“What did you need from me?” You ask, taking a seat on the king sized bed.

“That scar on your collarbone. That wasn’t there last time.”

You stiffen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Leona clicked his tongue. “You think I was born yesterday?” He grabs the shawl you had been wearing and tore it from your grasp before you could protest. There it was, the deep scar that ran from your collarbone, disappearing down your shirt and creeping up part of your neck. Your hair usually covered it, but he thought he was imagining something when he saw it back at the dinner. “Gods Y/n…what did you do?”

“Why does it matter to you?” You snap back. “I got it a several months ago. You wouldn’t have come home anyway.”

“If you were hurt that bad of course I would have! Y/n, that’s not just a minor scratch. Now tell me what happened or I’ll find Neiji.”

You sigh. “It was just an accident during training. We were out in the Savannah on the cliffside and I fell trying to protect one of the other lionesses. I think I fell about twenty feet they said. Banged up pretty bad. It happened around your midterms time, so I opted not to bother you during your studies.”

Though you treat it like a lighthearted manner, you fractured several bones and cut yourself pretty deep on a jagged rock. It was just a freak accident. No fault on either party. But it did take months to recover and by the time Leona came home for winter break, you were out of a cast.

“It’s fine! You always tell me I’m more clumsy than a newborn gazelle, so don’t worry so much-“

Leona stares at you with an unreadable expression. But you can tell from his tenseness, that he’s pissed. He then suddenly pulls you into his chest.

“L-Leo?”

“Don’t hide stuff like that from me. In fact, no secrets period. I don’t care how small. Got it?”

“I…uh…mmh…” you bury your face into his chest, inhaling his scent. He smells like mango and cedar. “Leo…I missed you…”

“Yeah yeah…I missed ya too.”

Omake-sexual content ahead

“I should go back to my room,” you sigh. Leona’s scent was so comforting, if you weren’t careful you’d fall asleep.

“Just stay here,” Leona said nonchalantly.

“Eh? We can’t?!”

“Hah? Why not?” Leona seemed almost insulted. “We used to share beds all the time as kids.”

“B-but that’s different!” By now your face was feeling hot from embarrassment. Your ears twitching skittishly.

“You’re my fiancée, are you not?”

Now you scoff. “This coming from the same guy who at five complained about marrying me.”

“If I do recall,” Leona said, closing the proximity between you two. “You were the one so insistent about it, going as far to say I better listen to you when we do. Well, you got what you asked for,” Leona taunted, his breath ticking your neck, making you whimper quietly. His hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer against his chest, preventing any escape. “I’m all ears kitten. You gotta use your words and tell me what you want.”

“L-Leona, please…”

“Mmm? Please what?” He tilts your chin up, his piercing green eyes staring into yours. “You’ve been yapping and pissing me off all these years only for you to decide to be quiet the moment I decide to listen?”

The embarrassment’s too great, so defiantly, you bite your tongue and refuse to say anything. Leona grins at this. “Fine then.” He undos your belt, pushing you to the bed as he pulls your pants to your ankles. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

Leona sheds his cloak and in one swoop, takes off his shirt. His muscles flex with each movement. Your face flushes. It’s not like you’ve never seen Leona without a shirt or anything. But was his body always this attractive?

Kissing him isn’t what you expected. He’s gentle, almost hesitant, when he cups your cheek to press his lips against yours. The tenderness is so endearing you miss the way his hands wander up your sides to grope at your breasts. You whimper quietly.

“My pretty fiancée,” Leona mumbles against your lips. “Your heart’s racin’. You nervous? I’ll stop if you want.”

“No… don’t,” you plea, keening into Leona’s touch.

Leona is surprisingly attentive to you, prioritizing your needs over his own pleasure. He sits back on his heels to slide your underwear down your legs (pocketing it for later). He could feel his dick twitch in his pants as he takes in the sight of your pretty pussy, dripping wet from arousal. With a tight grip on your thighs, Leona takes an experimental lick at your core. The first wave of pleasure shoots through you which has you trembling.

“Now, I can get used to this,” Leona grumbles. He eats you out aggressively, his tongue weaving through your folds. Actually if he were honest, it brings him great satisfaction in taking care of you. Perhaps maybe even turns him on a bit. He could feel himself getting hard just from your taste alone, his stiffening cock beginning to press uncomfortably against his boxers.

Your back arches off the bed. Your fingers find their way into his long hair which you pull roughly. A throaty growl resonates from the back of Leona's throat. You feel something else prod down there, soon realizing Leona inserted one of his slender fingers, moving it in tangent with his tongue to stretch you out further.

"W-wait. Please," you whimper. "M-my stomach feels weird." With a loud cry, you feel your orgasm wash over you. A gush of slick coats Leona's tongue. He greedily laps up your essence, savoring the taste of you. He delivers one last harsh suck on your clit before pulling back.

“Let me know if it hurts, m’kay? Leona almost sighs in relief as he finally releases his cock from the confines of his boxers. His stiff erection oozes pre from the tip and twitches in his hand as Leona gives himself a few slow pumps to ease the pain.

Your heart’s hammering in your chest, still coming down from your orgasm and the anticipation of Leona claiming you. He aligns himself at your entrance, leaning down to claim your lips in a kiss again. Leona groans, spreading your legs wider as he slowly inches his cock deeper into your cunt. You whimper, a little too loudly, making Leona quick to cover your mouth.

“If you don’t want any of my annoying classmates to hear, you might want to keep it down.” His hands fall back to your hips as he feels your walls squeeze snuggly around him. His mind feels hazy and it takes everything in him not to ram into you right then and there. “Fuck. I’m going to cum at this rate if you don’t relax f’me.”

You on the other hand, cover your flushed face with your hands. Your body trembles with pleasure, heart racing in your chest. It feels so good. And your stubbornness makes you hate to admit that. You want more but Leona makes no effort to move, just holding your legs around his hips. His finger gently and teasingly tracing your clit.

“Look at me, Y/n,” Leona pants. You shake your head, keeping your hands over your face. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Stop being difficult and look at-“ When he pulls your hands back, Leona’s shocked to see tears in your eyes. “Oi. Why didn’t you say anything if it hurt?!”

You shake your head mumbling, “I-it doesn’t hurt-“

Leona’s ears twitch. “Huh?”

Your face burns. “It doesn’t hurt! Fuck. Leona. Please!”

A laugh rumbles through Leona’s chest. “Tell me what you want, Y/n. Look me in the eyes when you do.”

His striking green eyes bore into your own, not taunting you like usual. Almost begging for you to say what he wants as his restraint wavers.

“Leona, please fuck me.”

Leona grins. “Whatever you say.”

Your breath hitches as he moves. Leona growls lowly, fighting the urge to fuck you hard and fast. He rocks his hips, slowly dragging his cock through your walls making your shiver. Maybe you’re just sensitive from your last orgasm, but his lax pace makes you feel every vein on his cock as he reaches your cervix.

“Fuck, this feels good,” Leona grunts. You just squeeze around him so snuggly. Your walls flutter each time he moves, bringing him closer and closer to his release. He truly didn’t want it to end too soon. Especially cause he wanted to draw another climax out of you.

“M-move faster please,” you gasp as he hits your cervix again making tears trickle down your cheeks. Leona is quick to wipe them away, peppering your face with kisses. Your hips involuntarily buck up to meet his, desperately searching for more relief.

“Next time. Next time I will. I don’t wanna…fuck, cum yet.” He pulls your legs over his waist so that he could hit deeper. Your breath hitches from the penetration.

"T-there! A-again!" You beg. You wrap your arms around Leona’s shoulders to hold him close. Capturing your lips again, Leona sucked hard on them in order to bruise, his canines grazing them. His thumb jabbed against your clit, providing additional stimulation that ultimately threw you over the edge.

You come with a low whine, nails digging into Leona’s shoulders. Your clit pulsated, feeling like it was still vibrating. Tingles raced through veins, rocking your entire body.

"F-fuck, I'm close!" Leona pants.

Leona felt his own high reaching. His thrusts became less rhythmic and more sloppy. Low grunts and moans left his lips. The feeling of You tightening around his dick even more was enough to send him over the edge.

He comes with a low groan, pulling out at the last second, painting your stomach with his seed. His body rocks and he collapses on top of you, burrying his head into the crook of your neck.

There's silence between the two of your for a few moments as you both recover from your orgasms. Leona’s first to move, grabbing a tissue to wipe you down and check to make sure you’re not hurt. Other than the darkening hickies on your neck and chest (which he’s proud of), the fucked out bliss expression on your face says you’re otherwise content.

He tucks you into his chest, tail winding around yours. You relax against him, your hips aching slightly.

“Leo…”

“Hn? Go to sleep,” Leona muttered.

“But it’s really important.” You shift so that you’re facing him. “So please listen to me?”

He sighs. “Okay. I’m all ears.”

You crane your head up so that you’re able to press a soft kiss against his lips. Leona blinks somewhat in surprise. “I love you,” you say, before sinking again into his arms.

You feel him press a kiss against your temple, and he squeezes you closer to him. His chest rumbles, almost like a purring cat that’s content. “I love you too.”

[moonshine-nightlight]

Voluntary Sacrifice

inspired by this prompt/setup by @snowkissedmonsters as well as their art

The local werebear is in heat and its become a town concern. You, who's always been fascinated by him and doesn't much to lose reputationally, volunteer to help him through it.

If only he believed you were doing so voluntarily, instead of being forced by the council.

Can you convince him of your sincerity before the full moon rises?

Male werebear x human reader, Heat, NSFW

Status: Complete (One-shot)

Length: 12k

AO3: Voluntary Sacrifice

Prompt:

You live in a human town in a fantasy world. In recent history, werecreatures enlisted to fight alongside humans throughout a bitter war in the territory. The result of that alliance is a (sometimes tense) tolerance between these two species who generally do not get along.

In the wilderness near your town, a werebear veteran has made his home. Bearish in appearance and manner, he vastly prefers solitude and is actively hostile to visitors. Sometimes he comes into town to sell meat and pelts from his hunts. The other humans are frightened, but you find him fascinating and peculiarly handsome.

A slew of livestock deaths precede an emergency town meeting. There's no question who the culprit is, or why. The town elders understand that a werecreature in heat is aggressive and dangerous. The town's interspecies liason officer, a veteran who fought beside the werebear, explains that it's not a deliberate attack on the town's livelihood, but even so, the maulings cannot continue. It may only be a matter of time before a human is injured.

The liason suggests hiring one of the workers at the town brothel to act as a "heat soother," but the brothel workers don't want the job. There's still a stigma over non-human creatures. The werebear is dangerous, violent, monstrous. Who knows if a human mate would even survive.

Tentatively, you volunteer for the role. You have no living family that could be shamed, you're naturally infertile so there's no concern over cubs, and... Well. You like the idea of it, though you keep that last point to yourself.

You are escorted to the werebears cabin by the eager liason officer, who's just glad the precarious human-werebeast alliance is no longer in jeopardy. Answering the door, the werebear looks surprised to see the two of you...

Then annoyed.

I told you, he growls at the liason, I will not take a forced mate.

The officer coos and assures the bear that you are here voluntarily, which he seems to doubt very much. He throws you both out of his cabin and slams the door.

/

“Good luck!”

You stare after Anton, the liaison officer, as he rides away, at a complete loss of what to do now. You’ve felt a headrush of sorts, like sliding down a hill in winter, since you first resolved to volunteer to help Temar and his slamming of the door in your face was an abrupt stop before you even reached the bottom. You cross your arms, telling yourself its because of the mild chill, not out of anxiety or embarrassment.

But you are, so so embarrassed. You don’t know exactly what you thought his reaction to you might be, but stonewalled indifference and complete refusal to even entertain the idea of mating with you wasn’t one of them. Heat licks at your cheeks from the way he’d looked at you, his lip curled in a snarl, something more than even just annoyance in his eyes. You’d felt the urge to shrink right then and there and only surprise kept you frozen upright.

You know you weren’t as young as the other unaffiliated women in town, weren’t as pretty, weren’t as agreeable, but surely he couldn’t smell your infertility or whatever made you feel so out of place with everyone else. What about you had been so offputting he’d not even considered you for a mate? You’d almost hoped that whatever made you so unappealing as a human mate might make you more appealing to a werebear. So much for that.

You’re not one for much dignity as it is, no one to stand on high graces, and you try not to let others’ opinions bother you, beyond where they interfere with your own ability to make your living. But even you can’t bring yourself to try to convince him to mate with you when he so clearly has absolutely no interest. Did you sacrifice what little standing you did have a reasonable and respectable person by volunteering for this only to not even be able to manage it? Was it for nothing?

You had only found the courage to approach him because of the surface-level reason of slaughtered livestock and fear for a person’s injury, but now, now you felt almost responsible for not being able to prevent such an occurrence. All because Temar found you unappealing.

You can’t leave without even saying more than a hasty word to him though. Maybe there’s some other way you can help. You’ve wanted an excuse to get to know him better for years, since you first saw him. Even before that, when someone stopped by your shop with some of the pelts they’d bought from him.

Beyond his attractive appearance being more than enough to draw your attention, he’s lived such an interesting life. The liaison was liberal with his stories and his own accomplishments in the war, but he never short-changed his friend. You also found the stories of people who have crossed him or questioned him entertaining more than scary. His refusal to play along with the petty etiquette of the town was funny, as were people’s puffed up reactions. Perhaps you should have expected this reaction after all, maybe he just doesn’t like humans.

The thought against brings embarrassed heat to your face once more as you remember how he’d looked in the doorway. His beard and mustache, short but full, the scar across his nose, those dark brown eyes. His hair was shaved on both sides, but long in the middle, pulled back into a loose bun and peppered with gray like his beard. Tall as you remember, but stockier—his frame particularly broad in the narrow doorway. You’d always found him especially handsome. There was no question what sort of were he was.

Before today, the closest you’d been was at the general store, behind him line for some flour, putting to rest the rumors that werecreatures only ate meat. His presence had fascinated you, large but contained. Wild but settled. Immovable, but not aggressive. Deliberate. You’d found your mind drifting to thoughts of him that night. Your mind liked to turn the idea of him over, half speculation, half pieced together clues from overheard gossip. When you were particularly lonely or even just particularly cold, it was comforting to know he was on his own too. He seemed to prefer it even. You preferred your solitude most of the time as well—half caught between feeling like an outsider for the inclination, half relieved since that’s where you ended up. You wouldn’t mind another friend who felt so, a bit of company you didn’t need to perform in front of. And it would be nice, to be useful to someone else who had no one.

You know he needs help now, more than ever. The liaison had assured them at the meeting that Temar was making every attempt to contain himself. Which reassured you that you’d not missed a callous trend in his nature, but also made you want to help more—not help with the abstract problem, but help him. The next best solution that had been discussed—and would likely need to be implemented now that it turned out you’d failed, you realize with a sinking heart—was to institute a town wide curfew until this ran its course. But maybe there is still some way you can aid him, even if not by soothing his heat directly.

You stand up straight, pushing off the railing you’d been leaning against, and resolve to at least try to talk to him. After all, you understood his continued solitude, but it felt silly during the meeting, that he wasn’t there to lend his own input. Surely he had the most insight into his situation. He must know what he needed. You raise you hand to knock on the door when it opens before you even get the chance.

“If you ain’t gonna have the sense leave, then get in,” a gruff voice orders.

Your feet are moving before you fully register the words. Relief floods your veins. Well, that was easier than you expected. Perhaps things were turning around.

/

They were not. Any hope you had for some softening of his attitude was quickly dashed.

It had seemed promising: the smell of cooking food, the heat that filled the main room from the large fire, the sound of crackling logs. All ease some of the tension in your bones immediately—not to mention that same deliberate air Temar had, the one that made you feel steady and safe. Safe enough to want what you want, without your usual instinct to hide such thoughts and feelings until you were alone lest others use them to hurt you.

You try to focus on the room itself, from the handmade furniture—you’d have recognized Ben’s work if it was—to the scant decoration. The cabin was simple, unadorned, but solid. It suited him. It made the few personal items he had stick out all the more. The large blanket and rug to make the room feel lived in. The well-cared for hunting gear in the corner. The collection of copper kitchenware, clearly used often.

Nearly as soon as you finished your preliminary survey of his home, he makes it very clear he still did not want you. “No notion of what’s going on in that fool Anton’s head, leaving you on my porch like bottles of milk,” he sighs, looking disgruntled and you fight the urge to apologize. He tucks a strand of hair that escaped his bun behind his ear and your fingers itch to do the same. You clench them tighter behind you, upset at how wild your thoughts are in the face of his rejection. “Fess up, what did they tell you? I don’t know what those old fearmongers at the counsel did to make you come here, but I’ll not hold it against you—only them.”

You tilt your head as you watch him pace over the fire, trying to keep your eyes on his head, not how well he fills out his trousers. You realize belatedly that you must still need to clarify. “There was a town meeting, but I volunteered, like Anton said,” you reply tentatively. He’d heard what his friend said. Right? Maybe that was why he’d refused? Not because he found you so abhorrent.

Temar scoffs. “Anton wouldn’t recognize subtle coercion if it stabbed him the back.”

You frown, starting to get a little frustrated with his seeming inability to hear you properly. “Be that as it may, I can. It’s the truth.”

Temar raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Right,” he says flatly. “Just like five years ago, when I moved here and Miss Ketevan was left on my doorstop around harvest time. She just wanted to offer some apples before high tailing it out of there once her grandfather was out-of-sight. Must have been crying and yelling for some other reason.”

Your frown deepens. The last of your family had died around then and you’d not joined a town meeting for a full year, plenty busy with grief and figuring out how to run the dye shop without any guidance. Keti was a younger than you but had a reputation as a troublemaker so she had been in the gossip plenty. Her grandfather, Carlos, was on the counsel and had seemed to consider her something of an embarrassment.

You thought she’d run off with the milkmaid, not because she was a failed sacrifice to the new werebear neighbor. It does throw into relief some other statements at the meeting. Like Anton’s emphasis on volunteers as he’d stared Carlos’ down, which had led to no one but you speaking up—not even the brothel workers. They’d not said but you knew they feared clients shunning whoever they sent, let alone however they felt about the stigma and fear associated with werecreatures.

 “I have no idea what did or did not happen five years ago, I wasn’t at any of those meetings nor at your house,” you say with a shrug. “Keti’s moved to the other side of the river, according to her sister, and is quite satisfied there. None of which was brought up at the meeting today.”

“What do they have on you?” Temar asks, squatting to stoke the fire, as if you just didn’t want to tell the truth his face. Ignoring everything you were saying while still trying to get answers from you. You liked tell about how stubborn he was in gossip. You liked it less at this moment. “If I can aid you and you can go on home, you’re welcome to ask.”

“They don’t have anything on me,” you reply slowly, trying to match his even tone so he doesn’t think your lying. The embarrassment that comes with volunteering so plainly to mate with him comes and goes in waves, but having to repeat it to him is a different flavor all together. “I am here of my own free will.”

Temar scoffs and huffs. “If you don’t want to tell me then fine.” He heaves himself back to his feet and peers out the window. “Sun’s going down. You can stay here for dinner and for the night. That better satisfy them, because you’re leaving first light in the morning.”

You turn away from his back, staring blindly at the countertop covered in ingredients for dinner. The one you interrupted with this piss-poor intrusion. He was likely just trying to give you an out, an excuse to save some dignity. You should’ve known you’d have no skill at seduction, not that you’d believed you’d need it. You’d hoped he be satisfied enough, in need enough that you’d suffice by being willing and not unattractive. Or so you thought. How pathetic. “I just wanted to help,” you say softly, more to yourself than him.

You sigh before walking over to the counter and picking up a knife. “Thank you for your hospitality,” you manage, your voice stiff with discomfort, but unwilling to completely give up yet. “Allow me to assist with the food.”

Dinner preparation is tense, quiet, but a relatively smooth affair. Temar’s already got the chicken dumplings nearly done so you leave that to him and handle the rest.

He only speaks to point you toward where things are when you ask. You’re happy he’s letting you do this much as you’ve more than got the message he’d prefer to do it all alone. You try to concentrate hard enough not to think about anything else.

“These dumplings are delicious,” you say belatedly, after you’ve already scarfed down two of them. They really are, hot and flavorful.

Temar grunts in response and you can’t help but pout, wondering if he thinks everything you say is a lie. You try at some other small talk, but nothing gets more than a yes or no out of him—after the first few, he just makes some vague noise of acknowledgment as he steadily eats through three times the portion of food you got, which had been more than generous. You’d been skeptical of how much he was making until you’d seen how much he was eating.

Did he also have to eat more before winter, like a normal bear? Was he going to sleep through it too? You swear he still came in with pelts, but you don’t really know. You’re more than aware that he’s not likely to give a straight answer if you ask. You ask anyway.

He gives you a look like you’re touched in the head. “No, I don’t hibernate. I stay in more, sleep more since its dark more, but I’m not actually a bear.”

“I know!” you protest, blushing, “but I’ve heard there’s overlap of some kind, forgive me for not being an expert. You’re the only werebear I know by name.”

“You know nothing,” he retorts, words finally bursting from him in a fit of frustration. You’re taken aback, but eager for any information given his recent impression of a clam. “You say you volunteer and yet you don’t know the first thing about werebears, let alone heats. You expect me to think you know what you’re saying you got yourself into when its clear no one explained anything.”

“Well, then you tell me,” you bat back, fed up by now with being treated as a criminal for even entertaining the notion you might be a suitable mate for him. “And don’t act like you wouldn’t have called me a liar even if I’d written a book on werebears and their heats.”

As his way seems to be, he ignores you to keep focus on whatever incorrect train of thought he has stuck in his head. “Even if you’re ignorant, didn’t your family object? Doesn’t someone have sense or self-preservation?”

You glare. Of all the—. “No—” you reply hotly before he cuts in.

“I thought that was something y’all paid attention to,” he drawls, waving with his fork. “ Fraternizing with the werecreatures is still a no-no right?” He leans forward, eyes bright, like a predator finally spotting their prey. “Is it them that the council is leaning on?”

Unfortunately for him, its a false sighting. “Don’t have any,” you reply bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest. “They died. About five years ago.”

You wonder if he’ll make the connection and to your surprise, he seems to as his brow furrows. “I see.” He leans back in his chair as if surrpised to notice he’d moved at all.

“Besides, I’m grown,” you’re annoyed you even have to remind him. He’s treating you like a child, ignoring you, calling you ignorant, making you out as a liar. Like a fool. You’ve long resolved not to let anyone treat you like a fool. “I make my own choices.”

He scoffs in that same manner that’s truly getting under your skin. “Right. How could I forget.”

“I don’t know,” your voice is sharper than its been all evening. “Seeing as I keep reminding you.”

Discomfort creeps into his frame and he looks down at his plate to mutter, “What even made them come up with this plan? Was this Anton’s idea?” He warms up to this new wrong idea—it was Jessaly on the council who had mentioned “heat soothers” seconded by Carlos. Anton only stepped in to mention volunteers. “Because if so, I’ll be having words with him next chance I get, strong words. I anticipated an order to leave town or to be taken to jail or a fight. I’m surprised the council even risked the chance for cubs.”

That last part completely derails you from your planned support for Anton. “Oh,” you can dismiss that concern easy, so you don’t hesitate to, “I can’t have children.”

That stops him completely, freezes him in his chair. “What?”

His reaction surprises you. “I thought…” You thought he could smell the infertility on you. You thought that was part of why he’d refused, like the others. If he couldn’t tell, you still didn’t think he’d have a reaction like this, like everyone else. “I can’t. My monthlies stopped only a few years in and a doctor confirmed the nature of the issue. It’s noted in the records because my engagement to—” You don’t even want to say his name, for all you don’t blame your former fiance. You hadn’t even been that excited about the marriage, but the reality of no marriage ever, well, that had been more of blow the coming years dealt to you. You manage a shaky smile. “No risk of children with me.”

You meet his eyes valiantly and he stares back. You hope you’re right when you don’t see any blooming realization that you’re broken, that you’re any more undesirable, but you’ve long given up trying to tell. Still his focus makes you babble, “I don’t want children anyway.” That at least is the truth and the reminder steadies you. You thought you’d gotten over the worst of this self-recrimination years ago. You were happy not to have that burden, that expectation, that danger in your life. You just want Temar to think well of you, and this always changes how people perceive you, no matter how much you wish it didn’t. That is what truly gets under your skin. Your shoulders drop some tension as your smile softens, becomes more genuine. “Better me than someone who did. It worked out for the best that way.”

If only it meant no partner, no chance for sex beyond work at the brothel—which you were not interested in despite them asking—or  visiting one, which you have in years past. Or the affairs some of the less reputable had tried for in the past. They always made it clear in the end, even if you were alright with the infidelity—it was only because you were ‘safe’ that they wanted you.

“Neither do I,” he says, causing you to look up at him. His expression turns defensive as he clarifies, “That doesn’t mean anything anyways. Still the most foolish idea I ever heard.” He stands up abruptly to refill his plate with a fourth helping.

You eat the remainder of the meal in silence.

Finally, your plate is clean and your belly is full. You manage to take Temar by surprise by snatching up his plate in addition to yours, bringing them over to the wash basin before he could do some himself. You’re determined to do something useful while you’re here and he’s feeding you.

Maybe all lack of eye contact was for him and not you. Maybe you’ll have better luck staring at the water. “So, is there anything you’ll actually let me do to help?”

Another huff, almost a growl of frustration, and Temar replies, grit in his tone, “I told you I ain’t taking a mate just because the town’s made my heat their business this year.”

You don’t even bother arguing the point again and consider his words. You hadn’t thought about other years. There’d never been notice of it so you assumed it wasn’t actually an annual event. What made this year so different? Instead of asking, you return his own volley. “I heard you. I didn’t mean that, though I must mention that the town is only involved because it has become their business this year.”

Temar doesn’t answer, but you can feel his gaze on your back. Being the focus of his attention is electrifying. “Other than having a mate,” you remind yourself outloud. “Are there other things that I can help with? Measures to be taken, information to be shared. Anything?”

There’s silence behind you before he stands up from the table, the scrape of his chair loud. You hope to the gods he’s actually doing something, thought of something in response to your question rather than just leaving. Although technically, you suppose, that would also be a response to your question.

You methodically scrub the dishes while you listen to him move about the main room of the cabin. He sits back down at the table, bringing something with him. You can’t dry this tankard any more thoroughly so you turn around to see if he’s simply ignoring you or not.

He’s bent over something on the table, a piece of paper? You frown and walk over to get a closer look. As if he can sense you, once you’re close enough he points one thick finger at the paper. “Who’s land is this?”

You frown as you study what you realize is a map of the town. Unlike most you’ve seen, it doesn’t have roads or even real buildings on it. Abstract symbols represent structures—you think—and the town center and main street buildings are one big marker. Nothing indicated for individual stores. It takes another minute to realize the outlined shapes covering the map are the property lines, not buildings, roads, or rivers, though some overlap with where you know those to be. Leave it to a werebear to have a map of the town by territory.

“If you don’t know—” he says, huffing per usual.

“Apologies if I need more than a minute,” you huff back, more than fed up and far more assured after the time spent with him that he has no plans to kick you out tonight. “I’ve never seen a map like this.”

He quiets down and you manage to follow your memory of the road out to… “The Meskal’s Farm, Evanna and Leon.” You also manage to make the connection, although you’re not sure he meant for you to. They’d been the most recent farm that had suffered from slaughtered livestock.

Temar brings over a slate with some notes in chalk already written out. He’s got shorthand notes, similar to those on the map, but all unlike any you’ve seen before. He jots down what must be their name above some already existing notes. You squint, trying to make sense of the letters and numbers. “Two ewes and one lamb,” you correct, hoping you decoded right.

He freezes and you hold your breath for annoyance or anger, but instead he merely erases one number and writes in another. “I assume this was discussed with the council?”

“Yeah,” you see no reason to beat around the bush. As you continue to squint at his notes, leaning over his broad shoulder to see better. “The Oche’s steer had to be put down, but they salvaged the meat. Anton reassured them it was edible and bought some himself so the rest of the town followed suit.”

“Still, I’ll be paying my debt, it just might take some time,” Temar replies gravely. “I’ll not have anyone say I don’t pay what I owe or think I don’t owe it, like some uncivilized beast.”

“I can pass that along,” you offer, still reaching for some way to contribute, to help. His integrity touches your heart, makes that urge to give aid stronger. Anton had something vague to the affect, but the town had little confidence in Anton’s assurances. You have confidence in Temar’s.

“I would appreciate that,” he sounds a little belligerent, a little abashed.

You smile, happy to have found anything useful to do and lean in again, to study his map more closely. You mentally map out the other families who had damage and notice they’re all in a line from his property west and against the forest. He does seem to be attempting to keep to limited area. How much control does he have? Could you help corral him somehow?

You reach to point. “Is this the river or—” You start to lose you balance from the awkward angle you’re at. Your other hand reaches for the next closest thing to steady yourself—Temar’s shoulder.

Next thing you know you’re knocking into the table and he’s standing several feet away, a snarl on his face. “Don’t.”

You’re stricken by the vehemence from a such a small, almost-touch of his person. It had been too easy to forget he disliked you so, is so offended by your very presence. “I’m sorry!” It’s as if he thinks you were attempting to trick him. You hasten to clarify, hands raised in surrender. “I wasn’t trying—”

Temar leaves the room before you even finish speaking.

/

Temar braces himself before he goes back in the main room, his forehead pressed against the solid wood of his walls.

He’s hoping he’s gotten used to your scent, built up a tolerance, but knows it’ll only have gotten stronger for each moment you’ve been here. Gods know he’s only become more susceptible to it. How anyone in all his life has such a bewitching scent, he’ll never know.

The second he’d opened his front door, he’d wanted to drag you inside and never let you out. The beast inside instantly proclaiming Mine. Only mine. He’d barely heard anything Anton said over the roaring in his ears. The slam of his door had been as much panic defensiveness as it had been frustrated aggression.

The line between those two does seem to blur most during heat.

You stayed out there, looking so lost and somber on the porch, lip caught between your teeth as you thought. He’d had to get you to stop before he took over the task for you. An early sign of heat madness surely because of fucking course it was far worse having you in his home. Where his beast said you belonged. Where you could say all the words he was salivating to hear as truth even though he knew them to be false.

Those council assholes would pay for putting him through this torture. Temar knew he was a werebeast and yet this was inhumane even for his kind. He tried to find a proper target for his aggression, but you’d given him nothing to work with, persistent in your tale. As if a kind, quick-witted, pretty thing like you would ever subject yourself to a beast like him unless you felt you had no other option.

Distractions haven’t been helping, trying to keep his eyes off you was impossible to sustain, and stonewalling didn’t ever seem to deter you for long. It’s as if you were perfectly designed to get past all of his defenses. There are still so many hours until sunrise—if Temar’s even going to last that long, even be able to let you go at that point. After you’d seeped into his home, his life. You seem to fit so well.

You play at being kind like a master actor and he hopes that’s not all a front. You’re smart, independent, but oh so willing to help. Duress, he reminds himself, you’re here under duress. The fuckers in town must have forced you here somehow. He can’t believe how low they’ve stooped, taking advantage of your lack of family, of your infertility to make you into a sacrifice. The perfect sacrifice.

His beast still wants to try to breed you, undeterred by logic, but it’s his human head that’s unfairly tempted by the knowledge. When he’s in his rational mind, he stands by what he said. The risk of children, others with his condition, his ostracization from society is something he’d never condemn an innocent soul to suffer. Not mention he likes his solitude, likes only being responsible for himself and only answerable to himself. It’s why the council involving itself is so frustrating. Its why the idea you might be here of your own free will is so appealing. Lack of such a child-bearing risk is even more appealing, more alluring than he’d ever realized it would be. Than it had any right to be. Why are you so damn perfect for him?

Clearly distance was not helping. Perhaps it was even making his beast stronger, without you to look at him and, for all your knowledge of his nature, expect a rationale man to look back.

Temar walks back into the main room, feeling like a man condemned, only to immediately regret his choice as he rigidly locks every muscle he can to prevent his beast from pouncing. He’d thought you’d stopped trying to seduce him with your faux willingness and pretty eyes. Your soft, steady kindness…

Even he’d admitted to himself once alone that you likely hadn’t meant anything by hovering so close, by trying to steady yourself on him. Your fall onto the table, not to mention the complete startlement on your face from his reaction. But what the fuck is this?

“What are you doing?” he asks through clenched teeth, hoping the beast inside isn’t giving away the feral lust coursing through his veins.

“What?” You look up, surprised he’s back, but there’s no embarrassment in your face. If anything, your expression smooths back to usual faster than he feels it has a right to. “Oh, I hadn’t realized how wet my apron had gotten from the dishes, sorry about the wasted water.”

“Why have you removed it?” Temar’s voice was strangled as the words passed through his lips. Ordinarily, he knows it would barely register with him, but you removing any article of clothing has his beast pulling at the chains he’s trying to use to keep it inside where it belongs.

“Well, I didn’t know how else to dry off,” you reply, brow furrowing in confusion as you dab at yourself with part of the folded-up apron. Temar can see the damp stains where the water had soaked through the light green fabric underneath. “Besides, I don’t want to catch anything, sitting around in wet clothes. It’ll be dry by morning if I leave it by the fire.”

Temar’s mind is already overrun by the reminder he’d invited you, like the numbskull he is, to stay the night. You’re unlikely to sleep fully dressed. You’ll take more than just your apron off in his home. You’ll strip down to your chemise. He can see the edges of it under your dress—white cotton poking out. Nothing more under that except soft skin—skin he isn’t allowed to touch.

Temar tries to combat the pleasing images of you splayed naked in his bed with images of your bruised and bloody from his claws, his strength, his carelessness. They’re impossible to sustain with you so hale and unbothered in front of him. The comfort of his den discourages such violence from his thoughts, his heat poisoning his mind against him. You aren’t here by choice, he reminds himself.

It’s hard to believe when you cross his room with self-assured confidence, bending down to arrange your apron by his fire, acting as if you’ve no fears to worry you. Your hair is ruffled from either the dishes or taking off your apron and you pat at it absentmindedly. Temar wants it spread across his sheets, his pillow, mussed and messed by his hands while he claims you for himself. The town clearly doesn’t appreciate you, doesn’t value you what they have. He’d treat you right. He’d make sure you loved being his.

With a shake of his head, he blinks and the image before him resolves to you seated on a chair, delicately rebraiding your hair. He can’t keep his eyes off the swift movements of your fingers. Temar imagines what it would feel like if you did the same to him, this simple careful, everyday task. You look up at him from under your full eyelashes, looking perfectly innocent and not a creature pulled from his greatest nightmares and most sincere dreams. “So do you have a plan for managing however many days are left? Have you gone into heat in previous years? How did you manage then?”

The flush that blooms on your face is endearing and attractive. Temar wants desperately to know what you’re thinking when you say ‘heat’. You’ve avoided saying the word nearly the entire time you’ve been heard. Temar knows the rumors that fly about the human population about werebeasts, about heats, he’s overheard it all. From eating human mates to potent fertility and everything in between. Which ones have you heard? Which do you believe in? Likely none of the violent ones or you’d find the prospect far more intimidating than whatever bullshit the council is using to coerce you.

“Temar?”

“You’re right, I’ve already managed to work out a solution on my own, making you presence doubly wasteful.” You flinch at his words and every instinct screams at him to sooth you, to take it back—whatever is needed to make his mate stay. Temar turns rather than continue to watch your reactions to his harsh words. Despite knowing its necessary, it hurts to see your hurt and only encourages the beast to want to soothe, to steal your mind from any hurt by drowning it out with lust and heat. “Follow me.”

“You’ll sleep here,” Temar points out, continuing to refuse to look back at you or his bed for that matter.

His control would surely shatter if he saw you so close to it. He imagines how easily he could push you down on the furs and sheets until he had you spread out like a feast for him and him alone. How he would savor you. How he wouldn’t let you up until he was more than satisfied. A glutton of lust.

The cold metal of the door knob jolts him out of his thoughts. “I’ll be out back.” The crisp air, the brisk breeze, blow your scent from Temar and clear his head. He nearly sighs with relief as he walks off to the right, purpose in his steps, a reminder of his duty as he follows the familiar path.

“Here.” Its clear no matter where you thought he was leading you “pit” was not on the list. Your eyebrows lift nearly to your hairline as you stare down, allowing him precious seconds to gaze at you without a mask of stoicism or frustration, only naked hunger.

“You asked where I weathered heats of the past?” Temar neglects to mention that the first couple years in town rendered his heats short and taxing. Just a handful of nights around the late summer full moon, when the first chill to the air heralding the coming winter. Between his beast’s discomfort with new territory and his own war memories haunting him, his heats were not a concern. It’s only last year that his heat was how it used to be in his youth.

Wild. Hungry. Enduring.

This year is worst yet, not only because of the tight grip it has on him and how he can tell, despite more than a week in, that he has days to go, but also due circumstances outside of his control.

You’re smart enough to spot it. “Did something happen to this…?”

Temar puts you out of your awkward misery. “There was a flood after that storm a couple weeks ago. It dislodged that tree and a wall collapsed.” He’d hoped his heat wouldn’t return with the vengeance it did and so had put off excavating. “In the end, the den took longer than I thought to rebuild, to dig deep enough again. Still not sure I have,” he confesses when you look at him with such open, receptive eyes.

You frown and squint down at the den and Temar doesn’t like the reminder of how dark it’s getting. This entire evening has been a distraction, from the knock on his door, to the meal, to now. He ought not neglect the den any longer, not let his beast draw this out until it can overpower his conscience.

He puts down the ladder, hands grateful for something to do besides itch to settle on your hips. “I’ll be needing to get everything out of here, before the moon finishes rising.” Temar descends as quickly as he can, jumping the last few feet and turning to survey the den.

It was nicer before, he thinks with some dismay, some shame at you seeing such a bare hole in the ground. It’s primarily filled with tools for digging and fortifying, none of the minimal furs and blankets that should be givens for a den. The roof had been damaged when the tree fell in so he hopes it doesn’t rain. Temar resigns himself to waking up covered in dew. It’ll still be better than waking up covered in blood, even after verifying it was all from livestock.

“Temar?” His name on your lips draws his attention back up, like a flower to the sun, like a fish to water, like blood to a bear.

“Can I help you clear it out?” Temar just stares at you, part of his mind still surprised you’re here. Still here. Still offering to help. Help him. You cross your arms again and Temar wishes it didn’t look so good on you, the way it pushes up your chest, makes your arm muscles more prominent. What sort of shop did you say you had again? “Look, I’m another pair of hands, ain’t I?”

“Technically,” he allows, speaking without thinking. All his thought concentrated on your form above him, ripe for the plucking.

You seem to take that as permission and start climbing down the ladder. Temar turns so quickly to avert his eyes from your ass that he forgets to forbid you from coming down. You touch down lightly and Temar reluctantly faces you again, a puppet on the strings of his inner beast, to soak in the sight of you in its den.

The cabin belongs to Temar, the man. The den belongs to Temar, the beast.

Something of that must come across on his face as you pause, one hand on the ladder. “Does it break a rule, for me to be down here?”

A den is a personal, sacred space, with only those closest allowed entry. The beast does not allow you to lie. “No.” A prospective mate is more than a natural allowance. It’s expected.

You nod with satisfaction. The beast preens in approval at your persistence, at your ease in its den. “Then I’m helping. What’s next?”

Wordlessly, you point to the table with the hand tools.

“All of these?” you ask, even as you begin to gather them.

Temar turns away, unable to watch you ascend, and focuses on the final wheelbarrow he needs to move out, the planks he’s using as ramps he’ll need to remove. “Gotta get everything out of here so it don’t get broken.” Also so he can’t use it to escape. When he’s more beast than person, the use of tools doesn’t come naturally, but he’s relentless. Safer to keep them out of reach. That’s the real challenge—keep himself out of reach.

“Right.” There’s a pause while you move around behind him. Temar tries to focus on the feeling of the smooth wood of the wheelbarrow handles, the shudder of the wooden planks below as he moves it out of the den. “How come the walls are like this?”

You must be gesturing to the flat stones embedded in the dirt walls. “Harder to climb, although I haven’t had time to finish the back wall that collapsed yet. Claws don’t do well on smooth stone. A lot if the grout needs to be redone. Something for tomorrow.”

“Smart,” you say, sounding impressed.

Temar grunts in response, trying to focus on pulling the crude ramp out of the den and not on puffing up at your approval. Not seeing how else he might earn your esteem, might otherwise impress you.

“What’s it like,” you ask, quietly but clearly. Temar had been wondering if you’d ask. Waiting. “When…”

You trail off so he’s not sure if you meaning being a werebear or being one in heat. He supposes the answer isn’t terribly different. “Simpler, harsher, more vivid,” he says, “Less control when in heat than the rest of the time. In the army, we were trained to control the transformation, taught how to keep our minds more intact—it doesn’t work like that for heat. Getting locked up is how it was dealt with even there.” Not that they lasted long back then for anyone.

“I’ve heard of the loss of control.” You don’t specify if you mean in general or in heat, but Temar supposes it doesn’t matter either way.

Perhaps this would be a good time to remind both of you what’s at stake, how dangerous Temar is in heat to anyone vulnerable around him. “Just a beast at that point.” Temar doesn’t look you in the eye as he keeps talking, heading back down into the den now the planks are out and it’s the only way down. “Can’t understand human speech. Can barely tell human from animal. No reasoning with me. I’ll do what I want when I want to. Damn anyone else.”

Not that you’re as intimidated as he wishes you were. “What about other weres?”

“Aye.” Temar doesn’t mind confirming that, not when he knows it can’t encourage you. “Thats a mite different. We can handle each other better, can find that sliver of common ground. Family can calm you, your own territory, and of course, if you’ve got everything you want, you won’t go roaming for it. Won’t get angry and frustrated you can’t find it.”

“That all the time, or just in heat?” He can still hear the shyness in your voice whenever you say heat, but its obvious your curiosity is too great. Temar surveys the den while he considers his answer, hands you left over plates and cutlery from his noontime meal, eaten down in the den while he worked furiously to get it ready for tonight. He’s careful not to let his fingers brush yours, not to look you in the face, lest he see some fear there that hadn’t been before. Lest the beast see a lack of such fear. Temar truly felt caught between a rock and hard place.

He can see the question you’re dancing around and cuts to the quick, praying you’ll be sensible and leave since he wouldn’t be able to make you anymore. He’s not sure he even could back on the porch. “Its dangerous for any human to lay with a werebeast. Injury from strength or claws or teeth is impossible to prevent. Even if you’re mates.” He reminds himself as ruthlessly as tells you. It was rare, but it happened. Heartbreaking accidents. “Even if you’ve known each other for years. Someone in my troop had killed their husband in a heat frenzy once.”

“Not always though,” you reply, too hopeful by far, too logical not to notice the exaggeration. “It can’t be or weres would have died out.”

“No, not always,” Temar allows. “The tendency towards multiple children in a litter helps. But usually longer held relationships fare better. If the were isn’t in a bad mood, isn’t stressed—if the partner cooperates right.”

He hands you the last item that needs out and once you get to the top, he says, “Pull up that ladder, now.”

You pause, standing stock still and for a second he wonders if you’ll even listen. Temar’s not sure he has the strength to ask a second time.

“Sure.” You pull up the ladder.

His human mind eases at that, at the sight of you more than seven feet overhead, out of reach. His beast disagrees, seething in displeasure and unfulfilled lust. Naturally, you can’t leave well enough alone and sit down, legs dangling into the den. He knows he could grab your ankle at this, yank you down and—

Temar turns to study the den once more. It won’t stick in his mind with you clouding his judgment the way you are. He narrows his eyes, forcing himself to assess if its deep enough, the walls defended enough. “I still need to get the cover fixed, if that damn blacksmith ever manages to be around when I stop by. The back wall needs to be stoned, but if I try to climb it like it is, it’s just as likely to crumble which’ll keep me in just the same. It’ll do. It had better more than satisfy those bastards on the council.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose it will.” You shrug, as if you’d forgotten about them. “Will you let me visit? After I leave in the morning—” you add swiftly as if to cut off a correction Temar for once wasn’t offering. “In case there’s anything else I can help with? I meant it when I said we could help each other out. I admit I do not relish the chore of fetching all fuel for my fire in these coming months and perhaps I can provide something for you? I’m a skilled weaver in addition to my work with dyes. If you would not be opposed?”

How can you forget the council so easily? Dismiss them offhand like that. Why do you speak of ‘after’ so lightly? As if you expect to see him again, as if that’s something you might want. Temar’s thoughts turn in circles once more over your duress. He must remember you cannot be here by choice. It’s getting harder by the minute. By each minute you sit on the edge of his den, not a care in the world. Not a notion of his steadily deteriorating self-control. His lack of giving any indication of his growing need has gone from helpful to sinister, a wolf in sheep’s clothing no longer trying to reassure, but to lure closer its prey.

“Perhaps,” he manages to say.

You continue to talk, but the words’ meaning slip through his fingers. The change is pushing itself on him while he wiles away a few more minutes in your presence. Just to try to burn off excess energy, Temar turns to push one of the stones in better, to align it flat with the rest of them. Except… he can feel your eyes on his back while he does so.

Your scent to spikes.

He wheels around, wildly, and belated realizes the height you’re at, brings your loins far more to a height with his nose than ever before. Did his display of strength inspire something of lust in you? His beast roars for you once more at this indication of receptiveness.

The moonlight colors your hair, emphasizing your etherealness, the wonder at your very presence. How much Temar wants to hold you in his hands, claim you for his own. How much he wants to bring you down to earth, push you under him and take his pleasure from you.

He takes a step closer and it feels like the first sprung leak in a dam. The first domino to fall. The spark of fire on dry, dry tinder.

“R-un.”

In retrospect perhaps the most provocative thing Temar could have done was instigate a chase. Actually, the most provocative was definitely you listening and running.

You pull your legs up swiftly, battling your skirts to get your feet under yourself with a haste that surprises even yourself. Only one word and a glimpse of those glowing eyes, and you’re dashing for the cabin. Adrenaline pours into your veins as you the image of the fur rippling out over Temar’s body as he gave that last command fills your mind. 

In retrospect, the fur had been spreading steadily since you’d taken away the ladder without you fully registering it. His voice had been changing, although that you’d noticed plenty. The lower tone was a little harder to make out, even more pleasant to listen to, stirring up those lascivious thoughts that hadn’t left your mind since the town meeting was called. You swear his muscles had swelled too. The way they had moved beneath his shirt, which fit tighter with each minute that had passed. You’d felt spellbound, even though you swear that’s not a rumor associated with weres, and unconcerned by said compulsion.

Given the seriousness with which Temar gave the order as well as his earlier apprehension, you feel guilty for the mad sort of excitement rather than fear that courses through you. A roar, harsh and throaty, comes from the den behind you. It's one of rage and frustration. A beast that’s just realized it's been trapped. That it can’t get to what it wants. A loud thud follows. A growl of continued frustration hurries you on, feet pounding the ground as you run. You can almost trick yourself into thinking you hear your own name mixed in with the next roar that comes from where you’ve left Temar behind.

Due to your haste and unfamiliarity with Temar’s land and the fallen gloom, you end up missing the door along the back of the cabin and re-enter through the front. You lock that door with shaking hands and a pounding heart. The sounds of nature, of wind, of the echoes of Temar’s growl, are replaced by quiet solitude and the crackle of the fire, still burning in the hearth. You attempt to catch your breath. You try to let the mundane familiarity of the cabin and the silence calm your nerves. It’s not working very well.

You’re not sure what prompted his yell or his roar. Temar had said if he had everything he needed, he wouldn’t want to go searching for it, so it must have been his inner beast’s continued frustration at the lack of a desirable mate, which you continue to attempt not to take personally.

You’re still keyed up from the experience and seeing him actually start to transform, which still held some magic to you having never witnessed such a thing before, as well as all your interactions with him this evening. Temar seemed somewhat open to the idea of being friends, which was nice, you remind yourself. He is still immensely fascinating to you—this night has only made that more apparent. He feels less onerous to be around than some of your other acquaintances. He doesn’t put up any fronts and you feel like you don’t have to either. Even when he was clearly frustrated or angry—which you believe is exacerbated by whatever physical and mental toll his heat is putting on him—he never raised his voice. Temar only ever physically moved away from you, not towards you. 

Speaking of physicality, he was so strong. The way he moved, carried, and shoved the tools out of his den had been impressive. The skill and strength it must have taken to make it in the first place, from the manual labor of digging it out, to stonework, to the manner of transportation in and out were all impressive. You’ll have to make sure to stop by Nicolas’ forge tomorrow to ensure Temar can get his roof fixed. But for now, your mind’s eye lingers on how his muscles had flexed, how easily he might be able to move you about, lifting you, arranging you to best please him.

You shake your head to try to rid yourself of such thoughts when none of them are going to come true. Temar is the one who’s having a hard time, not you here in his home. He hadn’t complained about the den, but you can tell it must be a far cry from what it was before the damage, it saddens you to think of him out there and alone. You long to comfort him, even though you know he doesn’t want your comfort. His roar had only proven his frustration and unhappiness, how unfulfilled he must be, stuck in the pit. You swear you can still hear yet another roar mixed with your name. 

You take another look around the room and sigh, finding it far less interesting without him present. You’re still wound up from today’s jostling ship ride of events. Your hormones are out of balance after plans and hopes of helping Temar through his heat. While ending your night alone in Temar’s cabin, in his bed, while he’s stuck out in a hole in the ground isn’t where you expected or how you wanted the night to end, you suppose it's better than him still out in the woods where he might cause more damage or hurt someone.

Your hands go to your buttons as you start to undo them. An early night is in order. Just because Temar doesn’t want you, doesn’t mean you have to go unsatisfied. Your outer clothing drops to the floor, leaving you in your underthings. Draping the cloth over the couch, you wonder if he might be able to smell what you get up to in the morning. Would it be cruel to leave such a trace behind? you wonder as you slip over to the bedroom door. Or would it be your due after his refusal?

Something to worry about in the morning. You’re too hot and bothered to care much now. You turn the knob and enter the dark room. Your eyes just barely adjust enough to make out the outline of his large bed of furs when you’re pushed back against the door, slamming it shut. 

An almost subsonic growl fills the small room as you look up and up to meet glowing yellow-green eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, even faster than it had when you’d been running only a few moments ago. A cloud moves from in front of the full moon and the beast that Temar must be now looms over you.

Heavy hands—or are they paws now?—pin you to the wall, one spread over your sternum and the other engulfing your hip. Your hands reflexively reach out and curl around his arm, fingers sinking into dense, soft fur. With the hand pressing against your chest, you barely manage to make a sound more than a surprised inhale, anything else compressed by Temar’s savage strength and your own shock. 

Fight or flight seems to have tried to kick in only to unexpectedly leave you both at ‘freeze’ while you stare one another down. The moonlight illuminates his face, throwing into relief the complex mix of man and beast Temar now is. The same black salted with gray that had been evident in his beard is now more evident in the thin layer of fur covering his face. His jaw is larger to accommodate the sharp teeth and prominent fangs now present. His mouth is open as he pants and huffs, eyes fixated on you. You can still see the man in the beast, but he’s more than he was only moments ago.

You hold perfectly still as Temar leans down and starts to huff and sniff at your neck, shifting his fingers as he does so. You can feel his claws snag in the looser weave of your chemise as he does so. Has he always smelled like the forest? you think in a shocked haze, like the pine trees and the freshly turned earth with an undercurrent of musk. He growls into your neck while you stay pinned like an insect on a card, unable to do anything else when confronted by the reality of his transformed appearance, of his touch when he had recoiled from you so vehemently before.

You jolt when he manages to do more than growl, when you realize it isn’t your imagination that puts your name on his lips. Heat sears through you to hear the need in his voice, the demand, by the idea that you’ve managed to make such an impression on him that he managed to speak at all. Then those lips cover your own in an uncoordinated but wanting kiss. Instantly, your mind is wiped clean of rejection, and disinterest, and undesirability. Those ideas can’t exist in tandem when he kisses you like he’s starving. 

When you break apart, you breathlessly gasp out his name, a hand cupping his jaw. You suck in shallow breaths, as if you only just stopped running, as if he’d been chasing you since he’d told you to run. You tremble with shameless lust at being sought after specifically—he hadn’t just been demanding after vague wants but for you.

He manages your name once more, tongue and jaw and teeth making the word hard to understand except that all your senses are straining for him, desperate for anything to help you understand him, to understand this change. “Mate.” 

You don’t know if it's a question or not, but it's all you’ve been offering since you first showed up on his doorstep. “Yes,” you reply breathlessly, suddenly more desperate than ever in his hold. Desire burns through you for him. You tug futilely at his jaw, push desperately against the massive paw on your chest to reach him. “Temar. Mate.”

You don’t fool yourself into thinking your strength is what moves him, but perhaps your words do manage to penetrate his mind because he presses his lips to yours once more, immediately deepening the kiss. He fucks into your mouth with filthy promise. Your head is held between the door at your back and him, hot and massive, crowding you, boxing you in, cutting off any escape. Escape is the absolute furthest thing from your mind.

His grip on you strengthens, the hand on your sternum moving to bracket your neck. His thumb rests lightly against the column of your throat, the claw drawing a line of danger on your collarbone. His fingers hooked over your back, their claws digging into the meat of your shoulder. They haven’t broken your skin but you know they could, the sting of them makes you want to arch both away and into them. 

You tremble as you realize how securely and sinfully caught you are by this werebear, by Temar. You know that he could hold onto you like this for hours and nothing you could do would be able to force him to let go. You never want him to. Instead you melt in his hold. His hand pinning you by your hip is likely the only thing keeping you on your feet and not just a pool of lust at his.

His need is evident given the way his hips rock against your own. The press of him against your whole body is unlocking some hidden need in you and you attempt to push back, to rut against him in return. You feel desperation growing in your bones, in the heart of you, something wild and wanting that can only be sated by him. Temar rumbles his approval, moving more deliberately against you until a growl of frustration escapes him.

When he pulls back, readjusting his hold on you, you open your mouth to protest, to say something, anything to get him back. It’s reflexive after how this night has gone, but unnecessary now. Temar picks you up with no apparent effort, only impatience, and tosses you onto the bed. 

You land with an oof, scrambling to think around the rolling heat that moves through your body threatening to drown you at such a display. You’ve barely made any sense of yourself after being flung through the darkness when he’s dropped low and moved on top of you. His movements are strong and decisive as he pushes your chemise up. He noses his way between your thighs, spreading them apart to make room for him. You barely have time to consider being embarrassed about being exposed, at how wet you know you are, when his wide tongue, inhuman roughness obvious, covers your cunt.

Your yelp of surprise turns into a long drawn out moan as he licks at you, vigorously, hungrily. He places a massive hand on each of your thighs, claws stinging just enough to quicken the pulsing need between your legs. You twitch and shiver as he pushes your legs further apart to accommodate his bulk. Your heated skin finds the remaining fabric bunched around your waist too much and you hastily try to shuck it the rest of the way off as fast as you. It's the most uncoordinated you’ve ever felt due to the manner in which Temar is concentrating on sucking your mind out of your head via your cunt.

Free at last of the uncomfortable and restricting garment, you reach down, fingers threading into Temar’s wild mane of hair on instinct alone. You don’t kow if you’ve even stopped moaning since his tongue attached itself to your cunt. Simultaneously, it's too much and not enough and all you can do is try to hang on for the ride he’s determined to take you on. Sweeping you down into the heat of feral lust with him. 

One of his hands leaves your thigh to clamp down across your stomach and hold down your hips. Your fingers tighten as he holds you in place to take what he wants from you. His unwavering focus is on eating you out, so starving for you that for now even the beast is content with your taste, leaving his hips rutting against the bedding. 

Temar wrings sounds from you know you’ve never made before. You never want anyone else to even try. Fuck, so good, you think. Or maybe you say aloud because you swear he grunts his approval and his tongue somehow manages to reach deeper. 

The black pad of his thumb rubs your clit perfectly and you scream you shatter. He growls triumphantly as he greedily drinks down every last drop of your release

You feel unspooled and languid, molten in your pleasure. Temar too seems satisfied with the meal he’s made of you for now as he pulls back, licking his lips. His fingers tighten their hold on your hips as your only warning before he flips you over. Dazedly, automatically, you try to brace yourself. He grunts in approval at how he has successfully maneuvered you onto your hands and knees. Right where you wanted to be ever since you first understood that he was in heat without a lover. Since you realized you wanted to be that lover.

One of his hands leaves your hip to stroke up your spine and you shudder at the feeling of calluses, iron strength, and claws. Instinctively, you arch into the motion, wanting to encourage him to touch you as much as possible. You’re so grateful you’ve already tossed your chemise gods know where. “Please,” you gasp out.

He rumbles with approval and as if having heard your unarticulated thoughts, drapes himself further over you. He pulls you against the cradle of his hips with one firm motion eliciting a squeal from your lips. It's evidently not close enough, as he wraps his fingers around your shoulder and pulls again until he can rut his cock against where you feel oh so empty. 

With you where he wants you, Temar releases his hold on your shoulder to lurch you both forward, him bracing you both with that hand on the bed. It leaves you clearly trapped under him. You close your eyes to savor the position and you’re struck by the image you two would paint, were you able to see. Perhaps that should be more intimidating or even frightening than it is, but you like the heavy weight of him, the power evident in his body as he cages you in. 

The ache between your legs only grows more acute. “Temar,” you plead, attempting to move your hips against him despite the hold he still has on one of your hips. The gnawing hunger and persistent emptiness are starting to hurt, desire buzzing along your every nerve. 

“Mine,” Temar proclaims as the head of his cock finally catches perfectly and he starts to drive into you. The stretch and ache of him causes your moan to fracture under the strain. It’s been so long, but you're so wet it almost doesn’t matter. He’s so thick, so long, you’re losing all sense of anything outside of where the two of you are joined. The last few inches cause a pleasurable burn as you clench around him. Gods it's been too long since you were filled like this, if you’ve ever even had someone with his girth before. 

Temar growls contentedly once he’s fully seated inside you and you gladly take the precious few seconds to adjust. Soon enough, he pulls nearly all the way out of you causing a desperate whine to build up in the back of your throat until he thrusts back in, ripping a ragged sound from your throat that might resemble his name. 

He picks up speed with each movement of his hips, getting surer and stronger each time. You feel your whole body move and jolt with his each and every thrust. Your hands scrabble fruitlessly at the bedding under you, trying to brace yourself or get a grip but you can’t, uncoordinated and weak from your previous orgasm as well as the overwhelming way Temar is fucking you. 

He’s going to ruin you and you’re going to thank him.

His control seems to be fraying the longer he’s inside you. You can see the claws tipping his fingers get longer where they dig into the bedding and you can feel the way they dig into your hip. The pain is the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure of him finally hitting that perfect spot inside. You can feel your inner walls flutter from the sensation. Temar must like that because he groans and makes a noticeable effort to strike that same spot repeatedly.

The unrelenting attention pays off immediately as you can feel your need wind tighter and tighter while your mind empties of thought except for the sensation and heat Temar is bringing forth from the depths you. The continual barrage of his cock finally shoves you over the edge of pleasure once more and you obligingly shatter.

He groans as your clenching around him seems to be all he needs to let go. He hilts in you one last time and you feel him come hard. He fills you up with his seed, warmth spreading, and continuing to make little half thrusts, as if trying to make sure it stays deep within you. You’re still coming down from your orgasm but the sense of satisfaction expands in your chest now that Temar’s reached his peak too.

You close your eyes, limp underneath him, but more content than you’ve felt in ages, in perfect harmony with your werebeast mate.

At some point, you feel him tip you both over onto your sides, though he keeps his cock firmly seated within your heat, keeping you full. Temar’s rumble is full of satisfaction and he engulfs you in his hold, making it clear neither of you are separating anytime soon.

You don’t know how long you lay there on your side, blissfully fuck out, still full of him. You don’t care. You enjoy floating in the hazy afterglow. Eventually he slips out of you, pulling a gasp from you and a whine from him. He nuzzles against you, as if to comfort you. You’re too boneless and witless to do anything more than nuzzle him back. 

At some point you do notice him start to move against you once more. His large hands are running along your body, as if committing it to memory. It’s not until he starts to focus on your nipples, rubbing his thumb in increasingly tight circles. Desire starts to zip through your sluggish veins and you whine, twitching in his loose hold. He seems to appreciate your reaction, nudging your head with his until you turn it to face him better. He catches your mouth in a consuming kiss, more coordinating than any previously but just as hungry. It's deep and filthy and leaves you vibrating for me.

His hand covers your cunt, still swollen and wet from your combined cum, in addition to the desire within you he’s stroking back up into a blaze.  Your sensitivity causes your hips to stutter as you’re caught between wanting more and being too tender for it. He loses interest in using his hand once you’re pushing towards him more than you are moving away. Pulling you down his body once more, his fur causing goosebumps to ripple across your flesh until you’re back where Temar at least seems to think you belong: in the cradle of his hips.

“Oh! Temar, you—mm, o-oh,” you attempt to say something to address the reignition of his desire, but before you can, his stiffening cock has managed to press against your cunt just right, moving through your lingering wetness and the spend that’s leaked out of you since said cock last left you.

“Mate,” he intones, lust certainly back into his voice. He pulls you up off the bed, securing you to his chest with the hand still clutching your chest. You’re not sure his other hand he's left your hip since it settled there. “More.”

“I, yes,” you reply, trying to pull yourself back together. Of course while in heat, he’d want to—you cut your own thoughts off with a surprised moan as he pushes back into you. Your fingers clench in the sheets as your sore, but slick muscles allow him back inside. The overstimulation is giving your head a rush. 

Luckily, this time Temar seems more deliberate and rhythmic with his thrusting rather than frenzied and desperate. His other hand resumes kneading your chest and rubbing against your stiffened nipple. The change in angle seems to keep him from going too fast and luckily requires none of your strength. In fact, the sensation of him fucking you while you lay limp in his grasp is quickly bring your own lust back at a dizzying pace you don’t expect.

He shifts and the angle gets even better, causing you to moan loudly in encouragement. You sag against him, your bones feel liquid from the way he’s been relentlessly thrusting within your cunt. His grunts and your pants fill the room. You’re still so hot, with sweat rolling down your back only to be absorbed into his fur. The sensation ensures you never forget who and what is taking you. You glory in it, in knowing he chose you.

You feel like he’s determined to fuck you until you can’t see straight, can’t move and you’re beyond willing for him to try. 

Gods, he’s going to make you forget your own name.

Something curls deep in you, winding around itself with each passing second he continues moving within you. He hunches forward, just enough to press against you, to change the angle some minuscule amount, and that spring releases. You fracture around him. As before, that appears to be all he needs to push as deep as he can and spill his seed in you one more time. The sensation of his release, of the desperate way he continues to try to fill you are the last things you remember before the pleasure pulls you under.

-/-

In the morning, or given the angle of the sun, the afternoon when you wake after a sleep longer than an hour, Temar surrounds you still. You’re in no rush as you take the time to regain your bearings and take stock of your aches. Without opening your eyes you can tell he’s looking at you. “Regret?” you ask simply, stock still in his hold, voice scratchy from overuse. You lost count of how many times aTemar fucked you last night. It's all a blur of heat and desire.

“No,” Temar rumbles, adjusting his hold. “Mine.” The added growl behind the words even in his human form sends a shiver down your spine and reignites the ache in your muscles in the most pleasing manner. 

It's more than you were hoping for, and yet you can’t help but ask, cautiously, “For the rest of your heat?” Some small part of you is still expecting to be sent on your way far sooner than you’d like to be. 

“I suppose you’ve convinced me,” Temar replies, the amusement in his voice unable to stay hidden under his put upon reluctance. “If you’ve made this foolish choice, I suppose I’ll let it stand—for now.”

“You may be stubborn, but I think we can agree I won this battle,” you point out. You finally blink your eyes open for long enough to look over your shoulder and meet his brown ones. He looks indulgent when you cup his cheek. “What makes you think you’ll fare better in the next one? I’m not sure I want for this to end with your heat.”

“I thought you’d say something of the sort,” Temar replies with a roll of eyes. He nips at your ear and pats you on the hip. “We can discuss after your bath.”

You hum, pleased immensely by the prospect. “See? Perhaps it’s you who is mine after all.”

---

Extra thanks to everyone who followed along with the original posting! all your comments and tags and asks were super encouraging!!

[23victoria]

“walked in and dream came trued it for ya”

f1 grid x fem!reader (the rest)

warnings: sexual innuendos

authors note: anon🤍 thank you so much for the request!!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! 🤍

part 1

1k celebration f1 masterlist

George

George receives the envelope with a polite smile, his curiosity piqued. As he opens it and sees the pictures, his eyes widen and a flush creeps across his cheeks. He quickly closes the envelope, glancing around nervously to ensure no one else has seen.

When he catches your eye, he gives you a playful, almost shy grin. Later, when he finds a moment alone with you, he leans in close, his voice low and filled with a mix of excitement and admiration. "You sneaky girl, beautiful pictures princess," he murmurs, his gaze intense. "I have a surprise for you, when this is over." His smile is charming, his eyes glinting with promise.

Pierre

Pierre takes the envelope with a smirk, already expecting some kind of prank. However, as he opens it and sees the pictures, his expression shifts to one of genuine surprise and intrigue. His eyes widen and a slow, appreciative smile spreads across his face.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire, and leans in close, his voice a seductive whisper. "You really know how to get my attention," he says, his breath warm against your ear. "I think we need to have a private conversation later." His smile is teasing, his eyes promising a night of intense and intimate moments.

Esteban

Esteban, ever the gentleman, accepts the envelope with a polite nod. As he opens it and sees the pictures, his eyes widen in shock and a deep blush spreads across his cheeks. He quickly closes the envelope, looking around to make sure no one else saw.

He catches your eye, his expression a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. When he finds a moment alone with you, he leans in close, his voice a low, husky whisper. "I never expected this from you," he says, his eyes filled with admiration and desire. "But I have to admit, I like it. I’m excited to explore this side of you more." His words send a shiver down your spine, his gaze intense and filled with promise.

Fernando

Fernando, ever the seasoned veteran, takes the envelope with a knowing smile. As he opens it and sees the pictures, his eyebrows lift in surprise and a slow, appreciative grin spreads across his face. He looks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Leaning in close, he whispers in your ear, his voice low and seductive. "You never cease to amaze me," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. "I can't wait to show you just how much." His smile is devilish, his eyes promising a night filled with passion and excitement.

Valtteri

Valtteri takes the envelope with a calm, curious expression. As he opens it and sees the pictures, his eyes widen slightly and a small, appreciative smile forms on his lips. He glances at you, his expression one of genuine admiration and curiosity.

He leans in close, his voice a quiet, intense whisper. "You look incredible," he says, his eyes roaming over your face. "I cannot get those images out of my head." His hand lightly brushes against yours under the table, the touch sending electric sparks through your skin. "I cannot wait to show you how those pictures made me feel later." His words are filled with a mix of curiosity and heated anticipation, leaving you breathless.

Zhou

Zhou takes the envelope with a friendly smile, his curiosity piqued. As he opens it and sees the pictures, his eyes widen and a deep blush spreads across his cheeks. He quickly closes the envelope, glancing around nervously to ensure no one else has seen.

When he catches your eye, he gives you a shy, almost embarrassed grin. Later, when he finds a moment alone with you, he leans in close, his voice low and filled with a mix of excitement and admiration. "You made my heart skip multiple times," he murmurs, his gaze intense. "I can't wait to have fun with you tonight." His smile is charming, his eyes glinting with promise.

Nico

Nico takes the envelope with a curious look, opening it slowly. When he sees the pictures, his eyes widen and a slow, appreciative smile spreads across his face. He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire.

He leans in close, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "You really know how to get my attention," he says, his breath warm against your ear. "I think we need to have a private conversation in the bathroom right now." His smile is teasing, his eyes promising a night of intense and intimate moments.

Kevin

Kevin takes the envelope with a casual smile, his curiosity piqued. As he opens it and sees the pictures, his eyes widen and a deep blush spreads across his cheeks. He quickly closes the envelope, glancing around nervously to ensure no one else has seen.

When he catches your eye, he gives you a playful, almost shy grin. Later, when he finds a moment alone with you, he leans in close, his voice low and filled with a mix of excitement and admiration. "You really stay surprising me," he murmurs, his gaze intense. "I can't wait for you to see what I will do to you tonight." His smile is charming, his eyes glinting with promise.

Yuki

Yuki takes the envelope with a curious look, opening it slowly. When he sees the pictures, his eyes widen and a slow, appreciative smile spreads across his face. He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire.

He leans in close, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "Y/N, my wife, you almost made me pass out," he says, his breath warm against your ear. "I think we need to leave for a bit, right now." His smile is teasing, his eyes promising a night of intense and intimate moments.

Daniel

Daniel takes the envelope with a mischievous grin, expecting some kind of joke. As he opens it and sees the pictures, his eyes widen and a slow, appreciative smile spreads across his face. He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire and playful curiosity.

He leans in close, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "You are so sexy. my beautiful girl.," he says, his breath warm against your ear. "I think you need to help me find my phone, I left it in the suite. Let’s go." His smile is teasing, his eyes promising a night of passion and excitement.

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own



[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Hi if requests are still open could I ask for nsfw headcanons for Erwin, Levi and Hange? Thanks so much in advance 😊🩵

Yaaaaay, veteran trio sure thing :)

Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And Levi’s portion goes into the expected heavy shit about his childhood and Underground. ...Erwin’s I just... idk. Wrote with my dick I guess 🧍🏻‍♂️

Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used) with AFAB or AMAB anatomy depending on reader's choice since both options are lightly given. Hope that makes sense.

NSFW contents under the cut 😉

Erwin Smith

Dear Reader, I want you to look me directly in the eyes and try to tell me this man doesn't have a big dick - trick question you can't. The man is big all over. But he's very polite about it, not one to brag but it does bring a warm smile to his face to see your eyes practically pop out of your head the first time you're down on your knees, crouched down in front of the chair to his desk, mouth already watering as you quickly undo his belt and unzip him to be able to pull him out - only to go eyes owl wide when it nearly smacks you in the face. It takes a lot from him not to chuckle out when your hand goes to hesitantly wrap around it - only for you to flinch back when it twitches hello in your grasp, he finds it very cute actually.

Hairy chest. That's all. Actually no - hairy everything. It's great.

He is loud very loud - Erwin’s a loud man in general, kind of has to be when he's been in a military superior position for good portion of his life. But it didn't come up from that, no, Erwin’s always been loud when it comes to 'entertaining' lovers - even since he younger, if Erwin Smith is having sex everyone will know it, does not help he's a screamer (Nile and Mike have always teased him about it) but he sees no shame in it - just proof his lover(s) made him feel good and wears it like a badge of honor. And don't think he's alone in this, he will make damn well sure you're just as satisfied until your lungs go sore.

But if you are embarrassed of having people give you awkward looks afterwards, the solution is actually very simple: gag him. It could be with anything really; your underwear, your fingers, your hands around his thick neck, your hole/cock, get really creative with it :) And if you want yourself to not be heard, just tell him I'm sure he can think of some naughty ideas too.

Erwin has... complicated issues with relationships, both being Commander and focusing on attaining his dream he'd rather not be tied down to a serious relationship, but he has no issue with a friends with benefits type situation - stress relief. God does he need stress relief. However, if you are in a serious relationship with him then it's clear you're obviously very special to him - which also complicates things. For one I see him refusing to date a civilian so you have to be in the Survey Corps and fully understand what that means, to fully understand the 'delicate your hearts' oath and fully know damn well either of you could die at any time each time you step outside the Walls. Plus Erwin has a lot - and I mean a lot of enemies, you being someone someone so dear and close to him makes you a number one target and he knows that, he struggles with that, however it's a good motivator in a way; keeps him more focused and on guard, it makes him more careful, it makes him gather more and more blackmail on certain people if needed. That being said, the sex between you and him if you're dating - or hell married - is full blown romantic.

Don't get me wrong, he'll still blow your back out if you ask, but most of the times when you both find the time to sink to each other's touch it's with this air of gentleness Erwin has honestly never experienced with another partner, even Marie. You're... something special to him. Maybe it's because unlike past romantic interests - both men and women - you actually understand what's going on inside his head, you get how important his dreams are, you get his guilt, you actually know the... unspeakable wonder (beside all the titan killing fellow comrades thing) of what it's like outside the Walls. Freedom.

His kisses are so gentle yet grounded, he makes sure to kiss every inch of your body while muttering all sorts of praise and adoration with his lips pressed up against your skin so you can feel his words.

His big, thick fingers work open your hole/pump around your cock with steady rhythm as he takes you on his bed. He loves feeling your hands spring up and encourage his actions by messing up his normally perfect stylized hair and turning it into a complete blonde mess.

Loves hearing you, your voice sounds like absolute heaven to him if there is one and your voice crying out his name over and over and over and over and over again as he makes you come with nothing but his fingers/hand never fails to briefly send him there each time.

When he's inside you he can't help but feel overwhelmed, you're so warm and tight hugging your walls around him and if you're smaller than him he will never fail to tell you how seeing his cock not even able to completely enter all the way inside without the tip of his cock already pressed to deep that his head is rubbing at the deepest part it can go without you completely breaking entirely. If you're around the same size or maybe even a little bigger, then it's still the same, it brings a wide stupid grin on his face to look back as he has your legs tossed back and you're on your back you taking his prick all the way up to his base, balls resting comfortably against your ass. He feels ecstasy when he can start fucking deep into you.

When I said loud, I mean loud-loud. And if you're more than just an occasional fuck? Double that by like - twenty. He will vocalize each and every single thing he's feeling and is on his mind as he pounds into you. The headboard? Is banging against the wall so loud that Cadets two floors down in the Mess Hall can hear it and could mistake it for Wall Rose getting breached. It's an absolute miracle that shit hasn't split in two yet and especially with how one of Erwin’s hands clutches down onto it to keep himself grounded as he fucks you, moaning and groaning your name and all sorts of curses so loud that Levi’s viciously kicking the wall down the hall in his own office just as loud to tell you two to shut the fuck up but neither of you can hear it as you're so fucking lost in one another.

Call him Commander in bed. Do it. That twenty will turn into a hundred so fucking fast, not as fast as Erwin rearranges you to turn around - front facing the bedroom door - and straddling his hips with your back to him and your arms are held behind your back as he roughly bounces you on his lap. Everyone in this damn building and outside it will know what you're doing.

I mentioned his hairy chest? Yeah, well that adds a nice friction on your back and his chest is so plump you can lay back in them almost like pillows. Meaty, hairy, pillows. It's nice. They jiggle underneath you btw.

When he comes it's like a geyser going off inside you - literally. He'll fill you so full and your ears will practically ring from how loud he'll scream unless you quickly muffle his mouth up with your own or something, if not... well, everyone already knows what you've been doing at this point. If not? They certainly do now. But you try not to think about it, watching the flood of come pouring out of your when his cock slips out and staining both your and his thighs and the bedsheets.

Erwin acts practically drunk in the afterglow, his words are slurred and he has this wide toothy smile on his face you can't help but to kiss. This is the true stress relief. Here, his thoughts are the furthest from everything; the Walls, the titans, the Government, the Crown, the maybe-possible-if-his-father's-right people living outside the Walls... his dream... all of it. This is one few times he can completely distract himself away from all of it. He isn't Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps and accidental murder of his father - he's just... Erwin. And he's with you, just you - not Squad Leader (Name) (Surname). Just you, (Name). Nothing outside this very room matters, just laying in each other's arms and taking in the glow of being with one another. Knowing damn well you'll have to remember and face it all once you leave here.

But it's fine. He wouldn't be with you nor you would him if you didn't know that, if you didn't want to fight back against everything that be - if you didn't want Erwin’s dream to come true. And everyday, bit by bit you make further strides for that dream, together. You’ll reclaim Wall Maria, capture outside the Walls, beat the titans, learn the truth of what's to know about them. And see that thing mentioned in one of Erwin’s forbidden hidden books his father left... what was it again? Oh yeah, the sea. The ocean.

You two will see that together. You promised one another. No matter what.

Levi Ackerman

Right off the bat it should be stated: Levi has a complicated relationship with sex - it should be obvious, given how he grew up. Where he grew up. What his mother did for a living, and... he very much grew up aware of what she did. It's not just sex either, relationships, dating as a whole he's... complicated with.

Two things: Levi doesn't do causal flings, he doesn't do causal relationships. If he's with you in the first place it's because he loves you. If he didn't he wouldn't be with you and it's that simple, he's doesn't vocalize it much - he has... issues with words, serious, emotion-y words - but if you're with him at all romantically in the first place you already know him fluently enough to understand that. He doesn't have to say "I love you," very often - you already know he does, and when he actually does voice it, it's always at the absolute most vulnerable positions he can be to show you how much he genuinely means it.

Trust is important to him. Very important. He loves you, he wouldn't be with you if he didn't as we already established that. Sex? Completely different ball park. If he wants to he sexually active with you it is beyond trust with him. It's beyond just trusting his own life in your hands, it's beyond letting you handle his old knives, it's beyond trusting you enough to tell you horror stories of how he grew up, it's beyond telling you just how close Farlan and Isabel were to him that they were practically siblings to him, it's beyond telling you about Kenny and how for the longest time and still sometimes that it fucks him up to think... he knew his mother - doesn't know how, the bastard always refused to ever tell him, and then just one day for no fucking reason just... walked out. Walked out without a word or anything. Left him to barely survive down there on his own until Farlan and Isabel. How for years... he was convinced the bastard might be his father. Because what else could he be? Visiting and knowing his dead mother by name - her actual name - and picking Levi up and saving him when he was on the brink of starvation, if Kenny hadn't arrived when he did then... he might've very well been dead by the next day. It's just... or it was hard to think up any other possible explanation but this MP killing bastard being his dad. But now, he isn't sure - nowadays doesn't really care to find out, hell the bastard could be rotting in a ditch for all he cares. He's never told another soul that - just you. Between you and him there's something deeper than trust.

Now, I know a lot of other headcanons tend to make Levi out to be this super dom sexy sex sex man or whatever, but no. He has no fucking experience whatsoever, until he made this connection with you he absolutely refused to - always thinking about that sunk look in his mother's eyes after dealt with clients and how she'd fake the warmth in them to hide the hurt when Levi would be let back in the room by one of her lady 'work friends' and she'd talk to him so lovingly and sweetly... until she got another knock on the door and he'd have to leave again. That sunken look in her eyes immediately returning and even as a kid he'd want to attack the bastards he knew was the cause of her hurt. And that's how he seen sex for the longest time, didn't fucking help with all the degenerates pigs Underground. He can count on both hands and toes and it still not be enough how how many fucking pigs he's had to gut for staring at Isabel the wrong gross way - a child. Still makes him sick. All these years later. So he's stayed away from it. Fought against it, even up against the absolute worst the Underground had to offer.

However, the longest he'd had bad associations with it, but... with you it's different. You're different, different than a lot of people and that's because of the beyond trust thing. He can be different around you - not the smartass, foul mouthed, titan killing machine people know him as now, he can be... vulnerable, alone with you - and he wants to be. He really does, he loves you afterall and... he wants to give himself to you, completely, because that's how special you are but...

It's stupid, he tells himself - he's a grown man, he's in his late twenties right now, acting and beating himself up in such a childish way over a natural thing. What's wrong with him? But it's you to calm him down, telling him you don't have to do anything and that you're content just the way things are between the two of you now. That you didn't need to go further - ever if he wished, that you love him no matter what. But the thing is... he wants to. There's just this - this mental block he can't seem to get across, no matter how hard he tried. Humanity's strongest? Or whatever it is they're calling him now? Scared of what? He scolds himself. Losing his virginity? The two of you share a bed together to sleep in - this shouldn't - shouldn't - shit. But... you look at him. The two of you sit together on the bed and you look up/down/straight forward at him (depending on your height) and he just... feels at ease, he remembers why he loves and beyond trusts you in the first place, that everything's fine, everything will be fine as he puts a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he gives a steady nod and melts his lips with yours.

That being all said, yeah, Levi’s a virgin. He doesn't really have all that much idea of what he's doing, just goes by his gut and will rely on you to actively tell him what to do, what you want, and how you want it. But Levi - being the prodigy in every new skill he learns, doesn't take long for things to start clicking together in place. Half in hour and your virgin lover you'd think was actually a sex deity in human form - things just... click for him in that odd way it does for him learning new things (weird fucking Ackerman genes in work in real time, actually)

Insane head-game. Think he mouth I'd just good for crass insults and shit jokes? Nope, but honestly that should be expected. After the first few experimental pokes and licks around, enough to get a good idea of how to get you going, will his mouth latch onto and kiss, bite, and suck around the opening to your wet hole then stuck fucking his tongue deep inside and thrusting in all the sweet places/or mark fondle your balls with his mouth before working up your shaft kissing your head before absolutely deepthroating and going to town on you - no gag reflex, shocker. He loves the way you taste and can go on and on and make you come again, and again, and again, and again repeatedly until you loose your mind or voice. Or both.

Want to play with his insecurities? Not maliciously of course, but in universe I think Levi’s thought of as """"""""ugly"""""" and if that's the case you can imagine what types of disgusting shit people has called/said to him. He doesn't mind or care, especially these days as he's older but... call him handsome, or gorgeous and Levi’s a really pale guy, even if he's been above ground a couple years he's still wasn't born a 'sun-walker' so when he blushes it practically dyes his entire face and goes all the way up to his ears. It's cute. Even more cute when he growls, frowns, and scowls as he tries to hide it and distract you by suddenly entering you - which breaks the facade almost immediately as he goes wide eyed and nearly out of breath as he feels you around him. You overwhelm him, he burries himself in your neck not to let himself bottom out. His chest rocks with each breath and he's quick to litter your neck and collar in bites.

Hope you like it here, virgin or not with that Ackerman stamina you're going to be here awhile as he absolutely rocks your world. For hours and hours on end until the both of you are drenched in sweat and the wall has a crack in it from the bed moving.

Very quiet - nearly silent actually except for the occasional gritted curse and heavy breathing. But the longer you go on the more comfortable he actually gets making noise; moans, grunts, and punched out intakes of your name.

He'll fuck you until your legs go numb, wrapped around his hips and encouraging every thrust he gives you and you'll come over and over until you're light headed, bit with him there seems to be no end in sight as he onyx colored hair swoops down and dances with each and every single one of his movements as he looks down almost dazed at you.

Tell him out loud you love him and he'll come on spot.

Silvery grays practically roll back inside of his head when he hits his release and he'll be louder than anything he's been all night before finally his body gives out and collapses on top of you. Wide pleased smile on his face that's for no one inside these entire damn Walls or below ground to see - accept for you. It's only for you. This all is only for you.

After falling unconscious for about forty seconds Levi wakes back up with his normal expected demeanor, this time he just lies there in your arms and presses himself lazily in your neck. When he speaks it's slightly muffled, but it's fine. You ask him if he had a good time - which he tells you is a stupid question and should be obvious, getting a light laugh out of you as you go to comb through his sweaty hair.

He makes it very clear later that this isn't a regular thing, a once maybe a month type thing until... he gets a better understanding with it. "Shit takes time, you know." And you agree, telling him to take all the time he needs which he just lies there for another lingering moments before pushing himself up and pushing his lips to your own.

A bath sounds good now.

Hanji Zoë

Doesn't really have that much experience, WAY too invested in their work to really have had the time. But! That doesn't mean they're not ready and willing to learn - very opposite in fact, honestly. They are absolutely over the MOON when you come out and say you want to fuck them! They get so excited that they rush off into whatever direction of the nearest library to learn and come up with ideas of what to do with you that they sort of leave you there behind in dust 😅 but not to worry, Moblit's there (somewhat very embarrassed to walk in on this exchange) but he promises you that your Squad Leader means well they're just... you know, eccentric.

Books on sexuality and other ""taboo"" stuff of that nature are looked down upon in the higher society of the Walls, but they're not that hard to find if you know where to look, and luckily Hanji knows where a bunch of them are - in fact they know a lot of libraries have them in a 'secret' section - but pulling a few strings and hinting at knowing about a married librarian's affair with a nurse down the street Hanji is able to gather a bunch of books to bring back to Headquarters! They spend all next and the next few days looking over them, reading them cover to cover - only having to explain to Nanaba once who came to visit their office and curiously had picked up one, only to immediately set it back down when seeing the one of the crude sexual diagrams drawn inside before immediately excusing herself.

So, with all this learning and newly attained precious knowledge and a bit of self discovery, turns out Hanji Zoë is a kinky mother fucker. They excitedly jot down all sorts of things that catch their interest, said list turns several pages long that when shown and told about your eyes nearly bug out of your head. Your face turns scorched hot as you tell your lover that maybe best for now just to... narrow it down to three things, then the both of you could talk and work up to it.

And that's where it stays for a couple of weeks, nothing really happens and things go on as normal, until one day when you're at the Superiors table in the Mess Hall as Erwin draws on and on about Banquet plans - AKA 'entertaining' and kissing ass to the nobles and the Brass to beg for funding for the next expedition outside Wall Maria - to you, Levi, Nanaba, and Mike, until suddenly Hanji comes springing down the hall and grabs your arm and pulls you completely off the bench seat to where you fall on your ass.

"Sorry-important-titan-research-matters-need-to-borrow-(Name)-bye!" And they drag you off, your ass still on the floor. Leaving everyone else at that table speechless.

You're about to scold your lover the moment you get inside the door, now at your feet, and your just about to until Hanji pushes you back against the wood in a feverish kiss that leaves you breathless. When they pull away they have a wide shit eating grin on their face. Okay. You're much calmer now. You let yourself be dragged across the small office and shoved onto the bed tucked in the corner - Hanji gives you a wink and excitedly goes for a couple boxes at their desk, handing them to you for you to open.

Rope. A... harness looking thing that looks like... underwear? With an odd hoop in the middle. And... a large phallic shaped object that makes your eyes go shot wide. Okay, you tell yourself. This must be their three.

"Two actually," They correct you without you even having to say it out loud. "-this is three." Without much effort they start pulling off their uniform to reveal the pretty white laced lingerie they have on that makes you go entirely speechless. They push their glasses up further on their nose with a head tilt. "You like?" You nod without even feeling yourself do so. "Good." You... didn't know to whether be scared or aroused at that glint in their eyes.

You're naked and tied up from post to post with the red velvety rope as your lover straddles you and map out every part of your body with their hands, committing each bump, scar, and curve to memory. Hanji looks at you with this inquisitive look in their eyes - the same look they get during one of their experiments but yet, it's almost different than that, or is it? They touch you and look back up to your face for a reaction, they like watching you squirm but not be able to do anything with your limbs tied and can only whimper and moan for them, they like that very much actually. You can't touch them either, as they straddle you your hips do buck into them - getting a gasp out of them but with their hands suddenly around your neck they scold you with a pointed wagging finger. "Bad, naughty."

Their hips starts grounding into you as they begin touching themselves with only you helpless to watch their hand disappear down lace panties and start working themselves over, making sure to make plenty of noises you can hear until suddenly their slick hand is shoved into your mouth and you're ordered to suck, which you do until they're roughly yanked out be replaced but their breathless kiss instead - tasting their own arousal off you. Then they get an idea.

With a wide smile off their face do they maneuver around the bed to where they're above you and moves the panties aside for you to eat at them as they sit on your face. They hum and moan out all sorts of praises as they let you know how good of a job your doing eating out their pussy like it was your last meal, and since Hanji wants to be the dominant party here, they're not afraid to order you around a bit - reminding you that they are your Squad Leader and you should address them as so. So get ready to add "Yes, Squad Leader," to each and every you say tonight :)

For being so good, they give you a reward: while you continue to eat them out, they'll bend slightly over, spread you legs slightly apart to comfortly position themselves to eat out your hole/or gag around your cock, all nice and good for their beloved favorite squad member until you both come at least a couple times each, and if you're to type to get overstimulated, they'll reassure how well you're doing and tell you in the softest voice they can: "One more, just one more." until you come again.

Once you're done with that and Hanji wobbles off the bed, legs shaking, as they go to gather the harness and dick shaped object off the floor. They slip off the lingerie panties and stuff them in your mouth with a; "Hold these, please." As your lover then boucy legs each of their legs through the leg-holes and carefully latches each strap - only pausing when they look over and realized they forgot the dick. Oopsie. Fix that.

With it finally on they kneel back on top the bed, untying yours legs and arms and rubbing each appendage carefully, muttering to ask if you're okay in your ear - you nod. Now, it doesn't matter to Hanji how big or small you are. You are going on their lap - no matter how maybe ridiculous you maybe might look, you are straddled their hips at your sex is rubbed against their fake dick. But of course, you're not getting it first without begging for it, or beg for it enough for your lover's liking.

When it's in and your hips are encouraged by Hanji's hands at your hips to start bouncing on it, at your own pace at the start, until a sudden slap to your ass encourages you go faster and you make a noise - muffled by the panties still in your mouth - to your lover's shit eating grinned delight as they start thrusting their hips to meet the back or your thighs in wet snaps.

Hanji absolutely loves having their chest marked up, after ripping the underwear from out of your mouth they'll hold your head to bite at their breasts that gets them to toss their head back in a satisfied hum.

Eventually, will push you to your back and start pounding away at you in their own pace, committing every sound you make to memory and drinking in every call of their name like they were on the brink of dehydration and bit by bit more they push you to the absolute edge - until you nearly scream out your climax, for it to be quickly smoothed by their lips and a tight fist wadded in your hair.

Both of you are jelly boned by the time your finished, completely naked now up in each other's arms and honestly half asleep. That is until you chuckle, nuzzling your face in the crook of your love's neck. "I think that might've been just a tad more than three things," you tell them, which they shrug. "What can I say? I got creative in the moment, you know - there's a ton of things in those books! Maybe some stuff you'll like-" You wave it off with a yawn.

"Maybe later. Nap time now," You can't help the amused smile. "-Squad Leader."

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[monzamash]

uncool — lando norris

lando norris x you no warnings part of the golden retriever lando/black cat reader universe (need a better name for this little series lol) requested in october last year – i am so sorry it's been that long! this request has been hiding in my drafts and i rediscovered it today so hopefully you're still here, anon �� masterlist

“are you having fun?!”

lando looked like a fish out of water in a sea of black-clad metal heads, holding onto your hand for dear life with his hoodie over his head and a grimace on his worried face. it wasn't rocket science – you that knew lando was only there because you asked him, suffering in the mosh pit of your favourite band because he loved you more than ringing ear drums and a couple of fresh bruises in the morning. it also made him feel closer to you being there, in your little world that you kept close to your passionate yet guarded heart. music was the thing that bonded the two of you in the early days when you thought there was no way a stupidly cute formula one driver (and budding DJ) would have anything in common with little old you.

“it’s… hectic! are you okay?”

maybe there was a really small part of him that was hoping you weren’t okay and he could pull you both out of this waking nightmare but when he looked down into your glassy eyes, smile bigger than the moon, he knew you were in your happy place and god, you looked beautiful – smudged mascara and all.

“i’m great! – oh my god they’re playing saviour!” you screamed and lando mustered up his best fake smile and returned to his role as a pretender in a crowd of die hard fans, all singing in sync with you.

you were a mosh veteran, old hat by now and you could sniff out a poser from a mile away. lando’s stiff body behind you, hands gripping the jacket wrapped around your waist, made you feel a little guilty as the crowd began to jump and he didn’t, or at least he didn’t until he figured out the chord progression and attempted to move in time with the beat. you smiled a little to yourself and intertwined your fingers with his, quickly leaning up and pressing a kiss to his jaw as the pyro exploded above in a loud crescendo.

“that was amazing!” you yelled over the house music. the bright floodlights filled the arena and shone a spotlight on your sweet boyfriend who’s relieved eyes were as big as saucers.

“i don’t know how i survived that – fuck me,” lando exhaled, leaning into you for support as you turned towards the exit and wrapped an arm around his waist.

you couldn’t stop the chuckle slipping from your lips as you watched him limp, “baby, if you didn’t want to mosh you should’ve said something – i wouldn’t have minded standing up the back if it meant you would enjoy it more.”

lando shook his lowly hung head and braved your gaze, “how could I do that when you were having the time of your life? i love seeing you happy and being apart of it but i don't think i'm cut out for that moshing, crowd thing… and i didn’t want you to think i’m uncool.”

his confession surprised you a little, much like the cold london breeze did as you stepped into the brisk night air, hand in hand. but deep down you knew this wasn’t his scene, he was doing it for you and you love him for treading out of his comfort zone for one night so you could be in your element. 

“oh honey, i never thought you were cool to begin with,” you teased, earning an eye roll and a coy smile, “but i love that you would risk your life like that for me – you’re so braaave.”

lando playfully elbowed your ribs and pulled you into his side with an embarrassed groan, making you giggle and wriggle out of his tight grip, “uh uh, you’re not getting away with that! i can be cool!” he doubled down and spun you around – the smile you know and loved returning to his handsome face.

“name one time!” you snorted trying to get your breath back from laughing and failing miserably as you held onto his jacket for balance.

“oh, um i dunno, maybe driving a freakin' race car at 350 kilometres per hour,” lando shrugged humorously and you laughed before placing your cold hands on his chest and surrendering with an adoring smile.

“okay, you are really cool and very sexy driving fast cars, i’ll give you that.”

“thank you,” lando sighed with closed eyes, basking in the small victory before looking down into yours with all the sincerity in the world, “and i would risk my life for you every day of the week – all you have to do is ask.”

"oh, you are sooo getting laid tonight," you whispered, tugging him closer and placing a strong kiss to his shivering lips.

"oh yeah?" lando asked, eyebrows suggestively wiggling.

"oh yeah."

request from anon: "saw this one and immediately thought your writing style, it, and a lando desperate to impress were a match made in heaven: “I didn’t want you to think I’m uncool.” “Oh honey, I never thought you were cool to begin with.” 😘

[boldlyvoid]

Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier. 

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope. 

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly. 

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend. 

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea. 

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…” 

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.” 

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.” 

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?” 

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.” 

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3. 

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends  and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?” 

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.” 

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…” 

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.” 

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down. 

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment. 

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating. 

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?” 

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him. 

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them. 

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?” 

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.” 

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping. 

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…” 

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.” 

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.” 

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…” 

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.” 

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.” 

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly. 

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.” 

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her. 

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?” 

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?” 

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?” 

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam. 

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?” 

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.” 

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.” 

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…” 

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?” 

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt. 

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.” 

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already. 

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life. 

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer. 

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why. 

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first. 

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before. 

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?” 

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.” 

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?” 

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.” 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?” 

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?” 

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell. 

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before. 

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?” 

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?” 

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.” 

“It sounded nice when you were humming?” 

“It’s embarrassing…” 

“What is it?” 

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…” 

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.” 

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?” 

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.” 

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him. 

“A few mugs?” He teases right back. 

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard. 

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.” 

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face. 

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.” 

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it. 

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned. 

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to. 

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them. 

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?” 

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.” 

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits. 

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing. 

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away. 

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her. 

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore. 

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now. 

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy. 

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did. 

He wanted this to be perfect for her. 

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed. 

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day. 

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it. 

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares. 

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…” 

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.” 

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.” 

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her. 

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up. 

He nods, “is that okay?” 

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.” 

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.  

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too. 

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…” 

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.” 

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?” 

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over. 

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself. 

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them. 

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss. 

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.” 

“Okay then.” 

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it. 

So she does. 

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?” 

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.” 

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.” 

“Summer job?” 

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.” 

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued. 

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.” 

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.” 

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.” 

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.” 

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze. 

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her. 

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?” 

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?” 

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will. 

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right. 

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time. 

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.” 

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.” 

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away. 

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?” 

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.” 

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.” 

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.” 

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.” 

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door. 

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave. 

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.” 

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.” 

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.” 

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…” 

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases. 

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them. 

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…” 

“No way?” She can’t believe it. 

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.” 

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?” 

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.” 

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?” 

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.” 

“Wow,” she can’t believe it. 

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…” 

“Really?” 

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?” 

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.” 

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.” 

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.” 

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.” 

“Okay,” he follows her instructions. 

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.” 

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…” 

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?” 

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?” 

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.” 

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.” 

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.” 

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other. 

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special. 

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.” 

“I don’t plan to?” 

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.” 

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?” 

“In 2013.” 

“Have you been single for 10 years?” 

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.” 

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.” 

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.” 

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that. 

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.” 

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.” 

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.” 

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks. 

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life. 

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now. 

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking. 

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.” 

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.” 

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…” 

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself. 

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.” 

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?” 

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…” 

“How many have you had so far?” 

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…” 

“Boyfriend?” 

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?” 

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it. 

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.” 

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.” 

“No?” 

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.” 

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.” 

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.” 

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.” 

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.” 

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.” 

“I do.” 

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them. 

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home. 

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off. 

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?” 

“I missed my best friend.” 

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome. 

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now. 

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.” 

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.” 

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.” 

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.” 

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.” 

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…” 

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.” 

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!” 

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.” 

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.” 

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her. 

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?” 

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?” 

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?” 

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back. 

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?” 

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.” 

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.” 

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?” 

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.” 

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?” 

She nods, “Extremely.” 

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another. 

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to. 

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday. 

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight… 

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases. 

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?” 

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.” 

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.” 

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?” 

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.” 

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets. 

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.” 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?” 

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.” 

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?” 

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her. 

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went. 

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.” 

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.” 

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?” 

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.” 

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes. 

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.” 

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other. 

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.” 

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.” 

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?” 

“Only if you’d be mine?” 

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.” 

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder. 

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close. 

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?” 

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.” 

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her. 

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve. 

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it. 

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.” 

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her. 

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up. 

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his. 

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing. 

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?” 

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.” 

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,”  as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time… 

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?” 

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?” 

“Do you want to?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?” 

“Special sex?” 

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed. 

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?” 

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.” 

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.” 

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly. 

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?” 

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?” 

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?” 

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…” 

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…” 

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan. 

“Do you like that?” 

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her. 

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?” 

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do. 

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly. 

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her. 

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?” 

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her. 

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream. 

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit. 

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.” 

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed. 

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp. 

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.” 

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…” 

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust. 

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk. 

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.” 

“Yeah?” 

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!” 

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.” 

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?” 

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?” 

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.” 

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees. 

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath. 

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place. 

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.” 

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him. 

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.” 

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him. 

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?” 

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over. 

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high. 

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her. 

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.” 

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

[rwrbficrecs]

Thanks for all the love on the recent Readers' Choice list ✨ The May faves are a little late but hope you all enjoy these recs 💕

you turned a moment (into forever) by viciouslyqueer (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Think of the fluffiest bedsharing fic you've ever read and combine it with a college roommates AU, and you have this fic! I can't stress enough just how soft this fic is, this is the perfect fic for if you need a quick pick-me-up!

running through my mind all day by allthelovesaved (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry rarely, if ever, jogs. It's not something that interests him. That is until he stumbles upon Alex's TikTok profile (thanks, Pez!!). Alex, a passionate runner, shares his knowledge in a captivating way. Coincidentally, he's also the brother of Henry's colleague June, who convinces him to join their "group running thing"... This sweet, sweet story is fluffy and funny, very soft and a little silly (says the author), and it just made me very, very happy.

Wit and Wisdom by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: A window into the future of "Little Matters" my absolute favorite story. Im so in love with this family and happy to see the woman Cat has become and how much of Alex she carries with her. I cried and laughed and EJ left me wanting more of them as usual. If you haven't read Little Matters yet, what are you doing with your life?? Haha

hymns down your sides by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@na-dineee: One of my favourite authors delivers yet again! Henry, a refined boyband veteran in his mid-30s, meets wild, lately kind of self-destructive boyband star Alex. Henry can't probably save him, but maybe he can give him a push in the right direction? This story put me through the emotional wringer. So many feelings, so much hurt, and the chemistry - absolutely gripping!

the poem you make of me by @omgcmere (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The riches found within this fic know no bounds! It's a writer Henry AU that maintains a lot of the same themes as the book (which it coveys just as well), but it adds another layer of heart with the fact that in this verse, Henry is not just a writer, but a poet.

Savasana by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Lawyer Alex has hit a low point in his career. The situation is absolutely not pretty, and understandably, Alex is skeptical about whether yoga can fix it, as June suggests. Can yoga instructor Henry straighten things out for Alex? - Alex pulls one Alex after another - it gave me whiplash in the best possible way! The story is very touching and sweet, also absolutely hilarious at the same time !! So fun to read !!

Henry Fox, All-American Hero by @tintagel-or-cockleshells (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is an AU of a book I loved in middle school, so not only did it give me so much nostalgia, but it has all the quirkiness of RWRB too! Alex in this is so mischievous and sweet, and I love it!

A Wretched Beginning by @royalasstronaut (book-verse)

@dot524: This was a fun romp — forbidden relationship, college/academic AU, tension and angst, and loads of longing. Henry is Alex’s TA and um… things happen. Oh, and they may also be connected in other mysterious ways.

Pleasant Melody by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Love at first sight that feels magical in otherworldly way is one of my favourite kinds of love stories. And this fic is a spectacular example! Henry is a pirate, Alex is a very special siren, they shouldn't make sense but they do. The longing is excellent and I would gladly read ten more fics based on the same concept.

Meant to Be Yours by @affectionatelyrs & @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: Definitely one of the most unhinged fics I've read in this fandom. (Warning: proceed with caution!) Alex loves Henry, Henry doesn't know Alex exists. Alex's dream is of course to meet Henry and his attempts to do so are... worrying. Second-hand embarrassment hits hard, highly recommend!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[mirai-e-jump]

TV Guide, 9/6/2024 Issue ft. Kamen Rider Gavv Cast Members (translation below)

Publication: August 28, 2024

Chinen Hidekazu x Hino Yusuke x Miyabe Nozomi

Chinen: Shouma, who I play, is a young man who loves eating. He actually comes from another world, and while he's friendly, there's an elusive side to him, so if you take your eyes off him, he might end up someplace else.

Hino: Karakida Hanto, who I play, is a freelance writer who's not afraid of taking risks. During the audition, they never gave me a detailed setup for the motifs or roles we'd be playing. The only thing I knew was that one character was a glutton, and that the other was a cool character. How was the audition for the female character?

Miyabe: I play Amane Sachika, a gyaru, but that wasn't disclosed to me during the audition…..

Chinen: Really?!

Miyabe: The impression I had was that she was a reliable person. Then, during the final audition, the Director told me, "Act alittle more like an aunt from Osaka."

Chinen & Hino: Ahahaha!

Miyabe: I wondered what kind of character she'd be, but I was surprised to find out that she was a gyaru.

Hino: I was together with Hide (Chinen) during the final part of the audition, and he was really interesting. We've got so many stories. Which one was your favorite?

Chinen: There's none in particular I like (laughs).

Miyabe: I wanna hear them! (laughs).

Hino: For example…there was "A," the gluttonous character, and "B," the cool character, and the Director would assign us by saying, "Alright, next, you play role A, and this guy will play role B," but when Hide was told, "Alright, you're next," he took role A without asking.

Miyabe: Eh! (laughs).

Hino: I couldn't help but say, "This kid's a genius."

Chinen: I cringe thinking about it now (laughs).

Hino: (laughs). Still, I thought, "These are the kind of kids who get chosen." I really felt that he was different from the other kids. I guess I've been drawn towards Shouma since then. That's why when I found out at costume fitting that Hide had been chosen to play the main character I thought, "Wow! That's great! I knew it'd be him."

Chinen: "I knew it" is what I also thought about Yusuke-kun. When I actually did a face to face performance with Yusuke-kun at the audition, I thought, "It'd be very easy to perform with this person"……

Hino: (said happily) Really?

Chinen: Yeah. That's why I wasn't surprised at all when we met at costume fitting. There were countless people left, but I knew that if I was chosen, the other person would likely be "him."

Hino: (totally embarrassed) Damn. No, that makes me happy! I think that the relationship between Shouma and Hanto will gradually deepen as the story progresses, so I hope you'll look forward to that part as well.

Miyabe: What I liked about the script was that even people who seemed cheerful were complex, and they grew as they struggled with themselves. I personally found these aspects encouraging, and I hope that it'll be conveyed to the viewers as well.

Chinen: When I saw the completed first episode, I thought it was really interesting, and I felt that I presented it with my whole heart. I hope that lots of people will watch it! _

Q: What sweets would you compare each other to?

Chinen: Miyabecchi is a marshmallow. She gives off the feeling of an older sister who watches out for us and embraces us with her softness. As for Yusuke-kun, he's fugashi.

Hino: Isn't that old fashioned?! Wait, there's only a two year gap between us! (laughs).

Chinen: He's well informed, and since he talks alot with his superiors, I chose fugashi since it's a veteran of the sweets world.

Miyabe: I think Hide's definitely a marshmallow.

Hino: Right, it's so him.

Miyabe: Isn't it? He's very soft, and I feel like he could absorb an impact (laughs). As for Yusuke-kun, he's dagashi.

Hino: I guess I'm that type after all (laughs).

Miyabe: It's because there's a familiarity to him (laughs).

Chinen: Ah~ I see.

Hino: I also think Hide's a marshmallow. He's fluffy, pure, and positive. His skin is also like a marshmallow (he pokes his cheeks). As for Miyabecchi…she's both girly and not girly at all, and is also quite mature. I wonder what she'd be.

Chinen: A high quality confection?

Hino: Right. Like a millefeuille! It feels like there are many sides to her, as it also has lots of layers.

Miyabe: Ah, I'm glad~ (laughs).

[anonymous-dentist]

From the Doctor Who au I keep meaning to write:

-

Roier’s husband disappeared into the midst of the Time War just over 350 years ago.

Today, Cellbit wants to meet Jack the Ripper, so he and Roier are pushing their ways through the foggy, smelly London streets, and it’s fine. It’s just Jack the Ripper, it’s fine. It’s the British, it’s fine.

Roier can take care of himself. He’s a veteran! He’s one of the few Time Lords to actually have made it out of the war with more than one regeneration cycle to spare.

But Cellbit? He might have a very solid build and some very nice biceps, but he’s also kind of a nerd. He claims to be able to take care of himself in a fight, but Roier’s been the one saving him from all the aliens (and humans) he’s been pissing off, sooooo…

“We could have gone to the beach,” Roier grumbles.

“The beach is boring,” Cellbit huffs. “Jack the Ripper isn’t at the beach.”

“You don’t know that. Nobody knows who that guy is.”

“Not yet.”

Because that’s what they’re here: Cellbit- strange, beautiful Cellbit- has decided that he’s going to solve the mystery of who Jack the Ripper is even though, really, it doesn’t even matter.

(But what else is new?)

Roier rolls his eyes.

Once upon a time, his husband went by the title of ‘the Captain’. He was a police captain in one of Gallifrey’s smaller towns, and his sister worked by his side as the Detective.

Cellbit is a conspiracy theorist who throws bricks at police cars and criticizes serial killers not because they’re evil but because their “knife techniques” are “wrong”.

The irony is not lost on Roier, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Cellbit, despite having an entire time machine at his disposal now, wants to find Jack the Ripper, and he wants to kick him in the balls and throw him into the Thames and watch him drown.

Roier agrees. Fuck that guy.

“Fuck that guy,” Roier declares.

Cellbit nods in agreement. “Fuck him. He had so much potential.”

Roier blinks. “What?”

“Uh, I mean. He had so much potential… to get arrested and die in jail?”

Uh-huh, sure.

Roier rolls his eyes. “I think they still do public executions here, actually.”

“What, don’t you know? Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of alien super genius?”

Cellbit’s smile is sharp as a knife. (He’s soooo proud of himself. Dumbass.)

He elbows Roier in the side.

Roier elbows him back. “Not everybody can be an ‘alien super genius’. Some of us are just guys who slept through Earth Class in school.”

Cellbit shoots him a look, his smile and eyes softening disgustingly.

“Don’t sell yourself short, man,” he says. “You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

He goes quiet for a second before quickly adding on: “Especially compared to us humans!”

He coughs into his fist and looks to the side, his cheeks red from embarrassment.

Oh, Cellbit…

Roier elbows Cellbit again. “Hey, be nice to humans! They can be smart as hell sometimes!”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Cellbit says, still turned away. “We can be really dumb sometimes, though. Like, with cars. And TikTok.”

“Fuck you, I love TikTok!”

“You would.”

Mildly outraged and somewhat offended, Roier gasps, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just that you look like a TikTok guy.”

“What happened to calling me a genius?”

Cellbit bites back a laugh, not answering. Asshole.

Pouting only a little, Roier crosses his arms and kicks a pebble and tries not to step in a river of alcohol and mud going down the side of the street. Ewwwww….

Once upon a time, Roier used to go on trips with his Captain all the time. They’d hop into the Captain’s TARDIS and set the destination to random and go on at least a dozen dates a week. They’d hold hands walking down the streets, and they would kiss quite literally whenever possible.

Cellbit doesn’t hold Roier’s hand. Their fingers brush, but that’s it.

(Roier misses him so bad…)

Roier’s wedding ring feels so cold. He can only imagine how freezing the chain necklace around Cellbit’s neck is.

But they keep walking, and they keep talking, and Roier can almost pretend it’s the same as it was before the war. He wasn’t on the last of his set of 12 lives, his husband wasn’t… a fucking idiot.

Cellbit trips over a loose paving stone and almost falls, but Roier catches him by the arm and pulls him back upright- their first real physical contact since Roier picked Cellbit up for that first trip away from Earth.

Just for a second, Cellbit looks like he’s going to break. His eyes water, and his mouth thins, and his lip threatens to start wobbling pathetically.

But he pulls himself together, and he pulls his arm away.

“Thank you,” he quietly says.

He holds his body close to himself and looks anywhere but at Roier.

Roier sighs, but he smiles, anyway. Of course he does. He’s Cellbit, how could Roier not smile at him?

(This, at least, has stayed the same.)

___

If you liked this little excerpt, please reblog and comment/ask/Whatever! It really does mean a lot to me, and it lets me know that people want to read more!!

[erwinsmithsmissingleftarm]

I just read “how the veterans would fuck you” and 🧎🏻‍♀️ you were being so real 🤭 can we have more hange pls 👉🏼👈🏼

You never imagined that behind her cute and innocent face, Hange could be a total freak. You even thought that you would be the dominant one in bed but god knows how wrong you were. It's only when Hange started to attack your neck with hickeys and bites that you understood that she won't let you be on top. It's not like the idea of being at Hange's mercy was making you uncomfortable because as soon as she squeezed one of your breasts, your panties became completely wet.

Your weak protests were soon blocked inside your throat as Hange's fingers unbuttoned your pants. She threw all your clothes on the floor, leaving both of you all naked. Not being very embarrassed, Hange eagerly grabbed and spread your legs wide to reveal your pussy. Ignoring your shy whines, she ran her finger into your wet slit, taunting your clitoris.

Your girlfriend already knew how to make you lose control of your body.

Of course, Hange noticed how much it was easy for her to turn you into a moaning mess and she decided to use it to her advantage. It did not take too long for her teasing nature to come back, her gentle mockery making you blush furiously.

As her fingers continued to tease your entrance, Hange slowly leaned in and locked your lips together into a needy and hot kiss. A low hiss escaped your mouth as your walls stretched around her fingers, a little bit of pain mixed with pleasure. You gave her a pout and she replied with a chuckle, kissing your face as an apology for the sudden penetration. You could not stay mad very long after her as her fingers soon moved faster in and out of your clenching pussy, whimpers coming out of your mouth like a sweet melody.

Hange was... so good at it that it drove you crazy. She was able to turn you into an obedient little whore with you simply doing whatever she told you. You spread your legs wider like she asked, trying to keep them open by holding them with your shaky hands. Your orgasm was approaching and you knew it by the tingling feeling in your stomach. But when you felt Hange's tongue touching your puffy clit, you were immediately sent to heaven.

Your thoughts became foggy as shivers of pleasure ran up and down your body, making you incapable of saying complet words. All you could say were incomprehensible babbles as your half-closed eyes looked at Hange and her grinning face.

"What's up sweetheart, tired already? Come on, I haven't even cum yet."

God, you never felt that good in your life.