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honey-tongued-devil · 8 months ago

Note

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view.

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.

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pathologicalreid · 5 months ago

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blowing smoke | s.r.

in which Spencer asks you out on a date, but you know better

[next]

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: maeve and that fucking book. mutual pining but with avoidant reader. this fic lowkey could've been titled waiting room because reader knows it's for the better. word count: 1.96k a/n: hey does this thing still work? hello?

The hand hovering over the small of your back didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, you were hyperaware of every movement that Spencer made. Every hitched breath, each time he shifted his weight, the way he guided you through the halls put you on edge. He herded you through your apartment complex as if it were a maze he’d scrawled on the back of his hand.

His apartment was in the opposite direction of yours, but he still offered to take the red line with you, citing a need to make sure you got home safely. “Did you have a good time tonight?” He asked, his voice breaching the painful silence that had coagulated between you, his hand remained above your back, skimming the fabric of your jean jacket as you stepped onto the elevator together, trapping you in a metal box together.

You nodded once, keeping your eyes focused on the muddled reflection of the two of you in the elevator door instead of looking back at him. “I can’t complain about good company,” you answered, curling your toes in your shoes, using the texture of your socks to stop yourself from abandoning your resolve.

Spencer hummed in response, “We should do it again sometime,” he told you, letting you get off of the elevator first before he trailed you to your front door.

“As long as Penelope’s around, I don’t think we’ll be in danger of losing team bonding nights.” Tonight had been dinner at a new restaurant in the district, a place that you’d never heard of but Garcia had found on social media. Of course, the restaurant served exclusively Italian cuisine, and Rossi—who you’d been sat next to—went around the table and explained what he’d change about everyone’s meals to make them more authentic.

He was quiet as you rummaged through your purse for your apartment key, zeroed in on the way you rifled through pens and chapsticks to find the right carabiner. “Oh,” he responded, following you into the apartment. “I meant maybe you and I could do something. Get dinner together sometime.”

You faltered, your hand resting on a hanger in your coat closet, “I think Penelope would take it personally if we started hanging out without her.”

“Bringing Penelope with us on a date might send people the wrong message,” Spencer countered, a soft chuckle carrying through his tone.

Closing the closet door, you waited until the latch clicked to turn around and face him, “Spencer,” you started, tilting your head to the side but refraining from moving any closer to him. “We can’t,” you stated plainly, shaking your head in disbelief—both at the fact that he was asking you out and at the fact that you were turning him down.

His golden-brown irises studied your face in abject disappointment; he searched your expression for the smallest sign that you were joking. Turning him down to mess with him only to quickly turn around and tell him you’d love to get dinner together. “Sure, we can, there’s no regulation that says two members of the BAU can’t be together. There won’t be as long as Rossi’s around.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up, “That’s not why.” You wracked your brain for a simple explanation. A little white lie would be easier than the messy truth, but every lie eventually circled back to the same thing—to the same person. You’d been so patient in waiting for this moment, living your life on the sidelines while you watched Spencer crush on coworkers and bartenders and waiting for the universe to put you on the same playing field.

Here he was, offering to pull you from the bench, but you weren’t interested. He shifted his weight from left to right, “Then why?”

Naming your issue would require bringing up a subject that had become taboo in the BAU. You found yourself wishing you still had your jean jacket on, the cold in your apartment brought on by freezing Spencer out, “Maeve.” Your one-word answer floated off of your tongue easily, a topic you had wanted to bring up since she died but had avoided for nearly a year now.

You found a spot on the floor and focused on it, desperately needing something to look at other than Spencer’s face as each stage of grief flashed across it. “I want to move on,” he assured you, “It’s time, don’t you think?”

A scoff escaped your throat before you had the chance to reel it in, “I don’t want to be a task to you. There’s no point in me being a checkbox on your therapist’s list.” It broke your heart to turn him down. It killed you to hurt him. It killed you to hurt the bright-eyed girl who fell in love with him on her first day on the job.

“You aren’t,” he insisted. “You wouldn’t be. I’m not doing this for anyone except for myself,” he took a determined step forward and you stumbled backward, and just like that, he had a final answer.

All of the words in the English language, and you couldn’t form a sentence that would concisely explain why you couldn’t go on a date with the love of your life. You shrugged helplessly, allowing yourself to look up at him, trying to unsee the haunted look in his eye that you’d grown accustomed to. It’d been there since the day she died, and you weren’t entirely sure he’d ever be rid of it. “You called her the most beautiful girl in the world,” you reminded him, unsure of why you chose this reason.

He frowned, the crease between his brows so endearing that you nearly forgot about the cracks forming around your heart. “What?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you considered your next words carefully, “That’s what you said to Blake, I heard you.”

Spencer looked pained, “She… I didn’t—”

“And you’d never seen her before,” you cut off his explanation. “You called her the most beautiful girl in the world without having any idea what she looked like,” you reminded him of the odd circumstances encircling his relationship with Maeve. Phone booth girl.

“She was my girlfriend,” he offered as if that was explanation enough. It wasn’t lost on you. People had a tendency to speak in hyperbole when they were in love, and despite his excessive rationality, Spencer was no exception.

Running your tongue over your molars, you hummed, “Look, all I know is that if you felt that way about someone you’d never laid eyes on, there’s no room for you to feel that way about me.” You weren’t trying to be brave or considerate, you were frantically trying to build a brick wall between you and Spencer that should’ve been erected years ago.

He shook his head, taking another step toward you, leaving you to back into the kitchen counter, “You don’t mean that.”

Tears started to line your eyes, silver wisps blurring the visage of everything you’ve ever wanted, “You have to understand, Spencer.” The determination in your voice slowly morphed into a plea. You found yourself begging him for mercy, “In my head, we’ve already dated, fallen in love, and broken up. I don’t need to relive that sequence of events.”

“You don’t think we even deserve a chance? Because of Maeve?” He continued to push, poking and prodding at you until you felt like you were going to break apart.

You couldn’t do it. You could no longer allow yourself the luxury of fantasizing about being with him while the skeleton in his closet was pushed up against the door, threatening to break it from its hinges. Your tears slipped down your cheeks, moving in a steady stream as your lips parted to respond, “Because you called her the most beautiful girl in the world, and I’ve been in front of you for eight years waiting for you to notice me.”

It wasn’t that you considered yourself a jealous person. At least, not in the sense that you were jealous of Maeve. You couldn’t be in a relationship where you were always cognizant of the fact that someone else always came first. In the past year, you’d seen the way her death followed Spencer’s every action firsthand, and you couldn’t let her haunt you too.

“Let’s say you mean this and want to be with me; I’ll never live up to her,” you explained yourself to him, hoping to fill the gaping wound in your chest with words that would never be able to repair the damage that was being done to you. “I will never be able to reach the standard that she set,” you told him.

Spencer held a hand up, trying to get you to stop speaking, “That’s not true.”

You waved it off, “Of course it is. Spencer, if not her, then someone else will always come first to you. I’d spend half of our relationship wondering if you’re being forthcoming in your feelings about me, and I refuse to use what’s left of my dignity to stand in front of you and beg for your love.”

“You won’t have to,” he insisted. “I have absolutely no intention of using you as some sort of placeholder.”

Spencer was always good with words. You’ve watched him bend truths and manipulate UnSubs into giving him exactly what he wants. That was what he was doing right now, as surely as you were holding a knife to your own throat, he was asking you to lay down your arms. He didn’t want to hear you out, everything you said to him went unprocessed by that beautiful brain of his, and a feeling of helplessness filled the void. “Do you still carry the book around with you?”

It was like you’d pressed a reset button, his demeanor completely changed when you brought up the book, “What?” He straightened up, pulling his shoulders back as he eyed you nervously.

“The Narrative of John Smith, is it in your bag right now?” You asked him. Spencer’s kinship with books was a trait that had previously fed your fantasy, but for the last year it had only ever been one book. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him off for having the audacity to ask you out while he had that book in his bag. As if the inscription didn’t imply that Spencer and Maeve were destined to be together.

Slowly, Spencer opened his bag, reaching in and pulling out the eerily familiar book. One-hundred and twenty pages of your precarious and unending heartbreak. There was a bookmark placed about halfway through, indicating he was in the middle of his umpteenth reread.

Something about it made you feel so pathetic that you weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry. There was no escaping her, even now. You’d never be able to fully leave her in the past, there would always be the question of whether or not they’d be together had she not died.

Maybe he’d shelve the book someday. Maybe he’d read a book by your favorite author instead of clinging to Arthur Conan Doyle. Maybe he’d stop quoting E.E. Cummings on a daily basis. He just hadn’t reached that stage of grief yet, and part of you thought he’d remain in a permanent state of bargaining. You weren’t willing to be part of the bargain. You weren’t willing to be the one he defaults to just because you have a pulse.

Shaking your head, you walked around him and opened the front door, leaning against it and fidgeting with the deadbolt while you waited for him to get the message, “I can’t take being the last choice.”

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another." - Thomas Merton

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot

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grimdarling69 · 9 months ago

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Another deaged Ellie and Dan, but Danny was reincarnated as Damian Wayne

Danny Damian because he was Damian now, wasn't he? He remembers now the Fentons, the GIW, Sam and Tucker, jazz. He wonders if they could have also followed him here. A part of him longs to see his fraid again, but are they his fraid still? He was a new person. Son of The Bat and Heir to the Demon Head. Something Dami he remembers reminding people of. If only Sam could see him now, he knows she'd love that. "Who's edgy now?" He can picture her saying. He can almost see Tucker laughing so hard he'd fall out of his seat.

Crack

The sharp sound of the thunder brings him to the present. He looked over at his clock, 3:00 A.M. The witching hour he can hear Ellie tell him with a mischievous smile on one of their flights around Amity Park. She loved to drag him and Dan sometimes Vlad if he was feeling friendly. Dan, his future evil self tormented by the deaths of all his family and friends, so hurt he got Vlad to rip his human half out so he didn't have to feel the pain. Ellie, his clone, created by Vlad to be the perfect son, too bad she was a daughter. Looking down at his stomach where their cores are now incubating, he couldn't help but wonder if Vlad had anything to do with this.

He shook his head as if that would rid himself of that thought. Vlad was a real fruitloop,but he would never purposefully endanger Dan or Ellie. Vlad, in his twisted and weird ways, did love them in his own ways like kidnapping and keeping him hostage to save Ellie. He had forgiven vlad for the desperate attempt to save his daughter, but incubating Ellie and Dan's cores would make him their father now, too. Ew, coparenting with Vlad does not sound like a fun time. He glanced down and lifted his shirt hesitantly. If he focused on his stomach, he could see a faint blue and red glow emanating from his stomach. Red, Vlads' color, he thought distantly. Hopefully, it didn't mean much. As if signaling him, the envelope they had carried with them to him fell off the bed carried to the floor by the slight breeze.

Lighting lumineating the bedroom, making the crisp white color shine for just a second. He tentatively reached down to grab it. He was being a baby. He was a trained assassin from birth, and his fear trained beaten out of him a long time ago. Some part of him whispered his father and Richard's teachings of being brave but not without fear.

He paused. Father would want to know everything. His past life, Ellie and Dan, the ghosts, being a halfa. He wouldn't understand, Richard would try to, but not even he could never really understand. He couldn't subject his babies to that. He couldn't live with the threat to being ripped apart molecule by molecule. His father's lack of emotional intelligence certainly would not help young halfas. He was fourteen again the age he was killed in his first life. The age he started facing ghosts from another dimension.

He started younger in this life. Killing younger, he learned to fight his whole life. Jazz would hate that. Jazz... he wondered if she was alright if she survived the attack... no, there's no time to think of that right now. He ripped open the envelope( like a band-aid, Richard would remind him), and he noticed Vlad's familiar fancy fruitloop writing immediately(he had fancy fruitloop writing now, instead of the chicken scratch Jazz chided him over). So he was right about one thing this had vlad all over it.

Dear Daniel,

Though I understand you might not be Daniel when this letter finds you. I have been reincarnated into another life as I believe you have as well. My new name is Alexander Luther. I own a corporation called Lexcorp. I unfortunately can not change the name according to my board. The idiot lot of them.

He snickered at that. His smile dropped immediately. Vlad was Lex Luthor, the archnemesis of Superman. Jon would most certainly not like this. He forced himself to read on before he spiraled further.

I regained my memories after an experiment went wrong. I know how original. My new incarnation was able to open a small portal that grew in size, and eventually, somehow Danielle and Dan fell through. The portal then exploded, and I regained my memories. Unfortunately, it destabilized their clone bodies. I couldn't grow working bodies in time, and eventually, I had to hope they could find you. I hoped somehow that the yeti doctor would have imparted some of his strange knowledge onto you that might save them.

Vlad, no Lex still wrong. Vlad was somewhat right about that. During one of his all things ghostly lessons from Frostbite, he told him of how in the old ages ghosts often incubated their ghostlings. A protective measure back when magic and spirits were more prevalent. He didn't really understand it back then, and he doesn't understand it much now, either. Apart from the fact he was doing it, he supposed. What if he did something wrong and he lost them? He doesn't think he could live out his half-life if he lost them again. He needed to get to Vlad, and quickly too so they could start building a new portal to the infinite realms.

If this letter finds you. Come find me immediately at these coordinates. I've gone deep underground to escape my new archnimesis's suoer senses. I've m started research on a new portal, but I'll need your endeneering skills. This world is severely lacking in ectoplasmic science and engineering. I am once again forced to start from scratch on my own. Once we get the portal open, you'll need to go straight to The Far Frozen.

It's as if he's reading my mind, I think jokingly.

P.s. One of my experiments may or not have regiven then my new DNA in an attempt to restabilize them.

Only Vlad.

Well, it looks like they actually were going to be coparenting after all. This was going to go great.

I sigh and lean my head back down on my pillow. He committed the cords to memory before lighting the letter on fire with the lighter he kept in his bedside drawer. Point to assassin training. Jason would be proud. He supposed he could stay for a month or so before leaving, which would give him enough time to get away or think of some kind of mission to give himself. He shoots up. Todd had died and came back. He was a revenant. He couldn't stick around if he were to visit he'd know something was wrong immediately even if he didn't understand it.

He sprung out of bed quickly, but quietly, his foot steps perfectly silent despite his rushed mood of packing a bag. He packed a few pairs of clothes and lots of hidden weapons, some snacks he kept hidden for that should keep him fed on his journey but leaving any sentimental things behind. He glanced longingly at his sketch pad, but Vlad was most likely under the water judging by the coordinates he was given. Who knows if it would survive.

He checked the pack, making sure he got all he needed. He promptly checked it again. Twice. After deeming it sufficient, he willed himself to open the door. He mentally cataloged everyone in the manor. Pennyworth was most likely still in Father's room, making sure he actually listened to his insructions. Richard and Todd in Bludhaven and Crime Alley, respectfully. Cain and Brown in Hong Kong. Thomas was sleeping after his dayshift.

Everyone accounted for except Drake. He was most likely using Pennyworth's attention on Father to work cases. He just had to take the risk. For his ghostlings, for himself, Vlad. He crept down the hallways. He was opening the grandfather clock in record time. He went slower this time. He would use his powers, but his father had supernatural wards of all kinds in the cave. Who knows what they did. He was also admittedly trying to save his little energy for his voyage on the open sea. Light snoring hit his ears as he peered around the corner.

Thank ancients.

Drake was sleeping at the batcomputer, still in his Red Robin suit sans mask surrounded by his poor choices. Empty coffee cups and files spread around. He would still need to be quiet, Drake was a light sleeper, as was everyone else in his family. He grabbed the keys to his bike quickly, sneaking by. If he wasn't ditching his bike at Gotham Bridge, he would have disabled his trackers. He checked the gas and made sure he could make it. That's when he made his first mistake.

Putting the gas jug back down, he accidently hit another of one of his siblings' tools to the floor. He tried catching it without success, but it fell anyway, the loud clang echoing. Mistake number two.

Shit.

"Huh? What's happening?" Drake arose sleepily rubbing his eyes.

He froze. Mistake number three.

"Damian? What are you doing down here?" His eyes landed on him, and he spoke confusedly with his voice heavy with sleep or lack thereof.

He panics. He's blaming the pregnancy hormones on this.

He runs.

"Damian!" Drake responded to his dead sprint with his own. "Stop!"

He reaches his bike, and he turns the keys and prays. Luckily, it comes to life. He fumbles with his helmet it would hide his tears he needed it. who knows if he'll ever get to see them again. He shoots off down the tunnel. Flicking the cave door open remotely.

Another bike rears to life behind him. "Damian wants going on?" Drakes voice echoes in his ears. He can almost taste the concern in it amplified by the helmet. He ignores it and accelerates. He ignores the returned acceleration behind him.

----------------

Tim has no clue what made Damian panic enough to run away. He quickly ran to his own bike while swearing. Damian is already gaining distance on him. After another attempt at getting Damian to calm down and talk, he calls the only person Damian would actually listen to.

He hopes Dick will forgive him for waking him at five o'clock in the morning on his day off.

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

hey jade! maybe this is a tad more angsty than you'd like but could I request prison!Spence getting a visit from bombshell!reader and Amy? or a phonecall with them? q

ty for your request <3 mom!reader, 1.4k

“Best behaviour,” you’re whispering, hand on Amy’s small back, her shoe digging into your hip. “I’m serious, baby. Big feelings are okay, but we can’t be loud. We can’t shout.”

She frowns. Amy’s been a little against you these last few weeks. “I’m not shouting.”

“I know.” You try and fail to divide your attention between her and the line you’re following. You almost miss the sound of the buzzer that ushers you forward. “Okay, I’m right here. I know everything has been super scary, and you’re my brave girl, but I’m right here. You can tell me anything. Okay?”

She rubs your chin with her nose. “Okay, mom.”

“Okay. Let’s go see daddy!” you cheer under your breath, enthusing your voice with some false joy.

Your nerves threaten to make you sick, but you have to be the put together one. This is the strife part of the marriage you’d signed up for. Though no one can blame you for handling it poorly —who could ever expect Spencer to be where he is right now?

You carry Amy into the penitentiary visitor’s room with apprehension, shoulders stiff, fingers aching against your little girl’s rough denim jacket. The room is laid out strangely, but there’s a clear division between the prisoners and the visitors, though there’s no overarching perspex. There are dividers, sure, but you can touch him. You can see him sitting near the middle of the room, his hair in violent disarray, his eyes locked onto you already.

You speed up your walking.

Desperate, your knee knocks into a chair as you try to touch his face.

Spencer lets you for a half a second, before he moves away. “You’re not allowed to touch me,” he says, voice laden with a raw apologeticness that threatens to trip you up immediately.

“Daddy!” Amy says, squirming in your arms, her foot on the desk as she tries to shove herself over the short partition.

Spencer, in a dads instinct, reaches for her without thinking. “Amy, Amy,” he says.

“No touching!” a guard shouts clearly.

Spencer pushes Amy gently back into your arms and holds his arms up in surrender. The guard veers his way, but walks off again when he sees Spencer’s compliance.

“Daddy,” she whines, holding out her hand.

“Sit down,” Spencer says to you.

You sit down. The gap between both you and Amy and Spencer widens, her little legs pumping restlessly into your thighs. You’ll be bruised as a soft pear when you go home, but you barely feel it now.

“Shh,” you say, wrapping your arms around her like a straight jacket. You don’t really have a choice. “Shh, baby, shh. Remember what mommy said, okay? We have to be quiet, or they won’t let us see your daddy anymore. We have to follow the rules.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer says. He clears his throat. “Hey, Amanda?”

She looks up in surprise at her full first name. “What?” she asks.

“God, it’s so good to see you.” His voice thickens with emotion, but he keeps a tight handle on it. “I miss you so much, sweetheart. So much.” He looks at you. “I miss you,” he says again.

“We miss you too.” You wipe your nose. “It’s weird just being mom and Amy at home.”

Weird isn’t the right word. Amy has cried herself sick five nights a week for the last month, because if her mom is home, why isn’t her dad? Why can’t she talk to him? Where did he go?

“When can you be home?” Amy asks, reaching toward the glass again.

Spencer looks around the room before he reaches over the half-partition to hold her hand. He gives you a look: watch my back.

“I don’t know yet,” he says, holding her hand tightly, and giving her fingers little squeezes, “I’m sorry, princess.”

You give him a look of your own: change the subject.

You miss Spencer more than you’ve ever missed another person. There’s never been a feeling as acute as this in your life, you don’t know what to do with yourself when you aren’t with him. The only thing you can do is be Amy’s mom, and you’ve always felt that Spencer made you better at it. Without him, you’re struggling.

He looks like he can tell.

He diverts his attention from you to Amy again, ducking his head, his face posed into his most loving smile. “You’re so pretty, just like your mommy. You’re getting prettier every day, aren’t you? Mommy told me you’ve been helping make your own dinner. That’s amazing. You’re my smart girl.”

“I make– made our favourite last night.” She struggles over ‘favourite’, but she’s as smart as her father. The words come easily. “We had, uh– butter chicken! And mommy made…”

You blink a small tear from the corner of your eye. “I made garlic naan. We toasted them under the grill, didn’t we?” you ask with a sniffle.

“Yes!” She looks back at you. “Dad’s plate.”

You wipe your cheek quickly. “We kept you some,” you say, fighting as hard as you can to stop yourself from crying at the table. You can’t break down here, and you won’t. “Amy was worried you’d come home and be hungry, so we saved you some.”

Spencer leans far over the table to squeeze your wrist. Behind him, the prison guard begins making their way to your table.

“Spencer.” You lean away before he can get caught.

Spencer snatches his hand back to grip the partition.

He smiles. “Angel,” he says clearly, looking you straight in the eye, “you’re doing so good. I can’t believe how amazing you are.”

“I’m gonna fix this,” you promise.

“No, no, angel, I just need you to look after yourself, and my princess.” He gives Amy a smile dripping with affection. “She needs lots of looking after. Don’t you, Amy? I know mommy’s doing such a great job looking after you.”

“I miss you,” she says.

“I miss you too.”

“Can I have a hug now?”

He looks back, right into the watchful gaze of the guard. He turns back with a smile that’s nearly convincing. “Not right now, I probably don’t smell very nice, and they don’t want me to get my gross smell on you.”

“Ew, daddy.”

“Ew,” he agrees, wrinkling his nose. “I wish I smelled like you and mommy. What smell is it today, baby?”

“Persimmon,” she says. She preens at the suggestion that she smells good, relaxing against your chest.

You kiss her temple.

“Persimmon,” Spencer says. He couldn’t sound more proud. “You know what? Persimmons have lots of meaning. They’re a symbol of perseverance.” He remembers to dumb it down. “People who eat lots of persimmons are strong, they can get through anything. Maybe when you and mommy go home, you can share a persimmon, and I can eat one here, and together we’ll be strong while we wait for me to come home.”

“You can come home now,” Amy says. “Come home with us!”

“I can’t,” he says gently. “It’s complicated.”

“I think daddy has the right idea,” you say, interrupting his explanation unapologetically, “I think we should go to the market when we leave and pick all the different fruits, and I’ll send some for dad here, and we can eat them at the same time.”

“Like a picnic?”

“I can make little sandwiches, and we’ll get your teddies,” you agree. “Whatever you want. But first, I think you need to tell daddy all about this week. What book have we been reading? Oh, and we got you some new shoes ‘cos your feet got bigger!”

He smiles lovingly. “Oh, they did?” he asks softly.

You know he’s gutted.

(Spencer gets out of prison almost two whole months later. He gives Amy a huge box of tangerines (with the white lie that they are persimmons, hard to find in DC, and your sweet girl doesn’t know the difference yet) with a new pair of converse wrapped in a red silk bow, promising that he will never miss another fitting. He doesn’t know where to start with you, that much is obvious, he’s so grateful to be home and he’s sick to his stomach with guilt, too. He doesn’t realise the only thing you needed was for him to come back.

The diamond necklace is a nice gesture, though not half as valuable as his face pressed to your neck as he sleeps, Amy on his stomach, their long fingers sticky with orange peels. It makes all your silent crying worth it.)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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redeemingvillains · 10 months ago

Text

the playlist - mattheo riddle

summary: enzo overhears something about you he shouldn't have and when he tells his friends, all hell breaks loose.

word count: 1.5k

soundtrack: dress - taylor swift

a/n: just some fun, sweet and silly banter with our favorite boys! i made enzo italian? not sure if that's a thing. and i definitely took some liberties with italian, so please forgive me!

warning: the group is lowkey mean to enzo about his english not being very good; this in no way reflects my personal views about that. anyone that even attempts to speak or learn more than one language (esp english!) is amazing ♡

"Alright, I've got another one"

Pansy's voice carried from your bedroom into the bathroom where you were curling your hair, getting ready for your girls' night. She was fiddling with your phone, playing music through your bluetooth speaker.

"Fuck, marry, kill: Blaise, Mattheo, Theo."

"What is the actual matter with you?" you responded, laughing. "I'm not answering that, none of them" you said resolutely about your best friends, even as your heart trilled in your chest at the very obvious answer you had in your head.

She laughed deeply, "Gods they would simply die. Any of them would be on their knees to marry you, I swear to Salazar... or fuck you for that matter."

"Pansy!!"

"Ok, ok, I give up."

"Anyway, how are things with you and Draco?" you asked, looking to quickly change the subject.

A heartbeat. No response.

"Pans?" you asked, your ears listening intently for her answer before you became worried. "You okay?" you asked, concerned as you carefully set down your curler and peered around the doorframe to find her with a shit-eating grin on her face, staring at your phone.

"Pansy..." you said cautiously as you slowly approached her.

"I just found a very interesting playlist on your phone. 'M.R.'? Gee, wonder what that could be?" she said slyly.

Your feet started moving quickly towards her. "Nonono, nope that's not what you think –"

Now she was on her feet, running away from you. "Oh, GIRL, ohhhhh my goddddssss!"

"Give it back!" you shouted, lunging for your phone as she dodged out of your grasp.

"This is all Taylor Swift! Down Bad, But Daddy I Love Him, DRESS!?! I KNEW IT, I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!" she shouted as she scrambled on top of your bed and jumped up and down. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me, please, Mattheo is going to lose his mind!!!"

"Oh gods, Pans, please, please you cannot say anything, not to Draco, not to anyone."

Her eyes flicked from you to over your shoulder and your heart dropped into your stomach as you turned to see Lorenzo standing in your doorway.

"...Ciao bellas..." he said hesitantly, eyebrows raised as he took in the scene in front of him, Pansy, out of breath, standing on your bed, you clambering up beside her as you were both shouting at each other.

"Uhh, hey Enz, what's up?" you said as casually as possible as you climbed off your bed.

"I'm here to borrow your potions textbook, you said I could?–"

"–Yes, gods, yes I did" you said, scrambling to search for it from the pile on your desk before brandishing it at him.

"Thank you bella" he said as he left, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Fuck how much of that do you think he heard?" you said, looking up at Pansy.

"Babe, he barely speaks English, you're fine" she said nonchalantly. "But as for me, you have a lot of explaining to do."

Enzo made his way into the common room where the rest of his friends were gathered around the TV playing a video game as he plopped down onto the couch beside them.

"Where the hell have you been?" Draco asked without breaking his concentration on the screen.

"I was with la dolce e la piccante, eh, I needed her book" he said, using his affectionate nicknames for you (sweet) and Pansy (spicy). "Amico, she was talking about you" he said suggestively, his eyebrows wiggling.

"Yeah, what did she say?" Draco asked, his curiosity piqued.

"No, not you, la dolce, she was talking about Mattheo."

Mattheo had been sprawled in a large armchair with his hood over his head and eyes closed, but they fluttered open at that. Be cool he thought to himself, even as his heart raced in his chest. Enzo immediately registered his reaction and smirked.

"Care to share?" Theo grunted, jamming the buttons on his controller.

"She has music for you" Enzo said, his eyes never leaving Mattheo.

Mattheo's heartrate slowed.

"She sends me songs all the time, we have a shared playlist, Enz" he said, waving him off as he pulled his hood back up.

"No, no, it was not for sharing, it was a secret."

"You mean a surprise?" Blaise tried.

"No, no, la picante, she found it and la dolce was upset, it was a secret playlist."

Mattheo sat back up.

"A secret playlist... for me?" he asked.

"Yes!" Enzo said, happy to finally have gotten his attention and the message across.

Enzo's confirmation was met with some chuckles and ooohs and aahhs.

"Did you hear it?"

"What was on it?"

"I bet it was the same depressing alternative shit you two always listen to" Theo said.

"Shut the fuck up" Mattheo snapped back, narrowing his gaze at him.

"–It was Taylor Swift!" Enzo announced proudly, and four sets of eyes shifted to him, with three blank stares.

A pause.

"Ok, but like what era are we talking about here? Lover? Folklore? TPD?" Theo said and four sets of eyes shifted to him.

"What the fuck?"

"Bro, what are you talking about?"

"Am I supposed to know what any of this means?"

"Che cosa??"

"Taylor Swift is a fucking icon and anyone who says otherwise is either deaf or ignorant" Theo retorted before snapping his gaze back to Enzo, the video game in the background long forgotten now.

"Tell me exactly what you heard."

"Ehh, Down Bad, Daddy something something, and Dress" he said, nodding as he remembered each.

Theo's controller fell off his lap as he leaned forward intensely, eyes narrowed on Enzo, "You are fucking certain that's what you heard?"

"...Yes..?"

Theo let out a noise somewhere between a howl and a laugh.

"Oh my fucking gods Matty you lucky son of a bitch!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Mattheo asked. He was sitting upright now on the edge of his seat and he could feel his pulse in his neck as he'd watched the conversation going back and forth between Theo and Enzo like a fucking tennis match.

"Dress by Taylor Swift? But Daddy I Love Him? Hellloooo???!!" Theo was cackling now, falling back on the couch, his hands on his stomach.

And then panic ensued.

"Put it on! Someone pull it up!" Blaise shouted, scrambling to his feet in search of his phone.

"Gods" Draco muttered, his hands on his head as he tried to process the information as tears streamed down Theo's face with laughter, and maybe a small bit of bitter jealousy.

Enzo looked around with wide eyes at their reaction, somehow more dramatic than the girls'.

"No!" Mattheo said finally, standing up and grabbing Blaise by the arm as he was frantically trying to find the songs. "All of you, just shut. the. fuck. up" he said firmly, his voice low and serious as he enunciated every word, causing each of them to stop what they were doing and look at him.

"This is bullshit, he doesn't even speak English" he continued harshly, gesturing halfheartedly to Enzo. "I'm not wasting my time with this shit, can we please just get back to the game?"

He sat down resolutely, picked a controller up off the floor and moved to restart their game.

The group exchanged quiet glances with one another before settling back into their places.

Mattheo had been able to project a semblance of controlled anger the rest of the night, despite the sideways glances he received, but on the inside, he felt like a kettle full of boiling water, ready to scream.

He was fuming that Enzo repeated what he'd heard in front of everyone, furious at the way Theo laughed and annoyed at everyone else's reactions. His life, his feelings, and especially his friendship with you were private; it was none of their godsdamn business.

He also didn't like the idea that Theo knew your music better than he did, music was something the two of you had always shared with each other... since when did you listen to Taylor Swift anyway? And why was her music such a big deal?

He was tossing and turning in bed now, playing and replaying the evening's events in his head until finally he reached for his headphones, shoving them in his ears as he grabbed his phone. He needed to know, needed to understand why Theo was making such a big deal out of it. Theo's voice echoed in his head: "Matty you lucky son of a bitch!" and excitement and jealousy stirred in his stomach in equal measures.

It doesn't mean anything he told himself, tampering his expectations. The last thing he wanted to do was get excited, like one song was going to change anything anyway.

Dress he typed - tapping play.

Decent beat he thought, she's got a nice voice...

And then he hit the bridge.

Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off

He had stopped breathing.

Everyone thinks that they know us But they don't know nothing about All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you –

He ripped his headphones out of his ears and sat straight up in bed, his hand falling subconsciously to his beating chest as he tried to catch his breath. He swallowed. He blinked several times, trying to register what he'd just heard.

I don't want you like a best friend?

Well fuck he thought, me either.

T H E P L A Y L I S T

🏷️ tagging a few of my beautiful mutuals: @girllblogging777 @draco-dormiens @dracosbabygirl8 @leona-hawthorne @noble-serpent @sectumsempraaa @reys-letters

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff

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starsforxavi · 3 months ago

Text

all your firsts

·······•✦ description: In which Xavier hid the fact that he hated hearing about your first kiss or your past relationship, the thoughts of someone else touching you how he wanted to touch you making him clench his jaw. But you can read him like a book... And you know something is up with him...

·······•✦ pairing: virgin!xavier x afab!reader ·······•✦ word count: 10.1k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Some spoilers for Xavier's Anecdotes, Loss of Virginity, First Time, Virgin!Xavier, First Time Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, Premature Ejaculation, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Creampie, Jealousy, Awkward First Times, just kinda awkward, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Multiple Orgasms, Missionary Position

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

The sun sat low over the buildings, casting a warm orange glow over the group of people who walked down the sidewalk. Laughter echoed through the streets, bars lit up with music already, and cars stuck in traffic as they tried to get home. Footsteps melded together as you all walked in sync, the destination already determined.

“You have to tell me what it was like!” Tara’s voice carried towards your ears, her mouth nearly next to your ear as she tried to speak over the loud music coming from the bars. When she got into the mood to talk about something, she didn’t let it go. So even though you felt Xavier’s hand tighten in your own, you continued, your eyebrows raised as you recalled.

“It wasn’t great. Neither of us knew what we were doing.” You shrugged, internally cringing as you thought back to the moment ages ago. The awkward feeling made you shiver as you walked, and Xavier’s hand had to steady you so you didn’t trip over a crack in the pavement.

“Oh my god, same here! He tried to shove his tongue down my throat.” Tara squealed, some of your coworkers looking back and laughing as you got closer to the restaurant.

Of course, Tara suggested having dinner with coworkers as a part of a ‘bonding experience’ once a month. While Xavier didn’t really entertain the thought, his soft voice getting ready to decline, you cut him off, insisting that you and he would be tagging along.

“That sounds horrible. Your’s was way worse!” Becoming too caught up in the conversation, your grip on Xavier’s hand loosened, and you leaned closer to her. “Mine missed my lips at first and kissed my cheek… It was cute for how young we were, but not a great first kiss.”

The topic of first kisses spread throughout the group, with people recounting their experiences as they waited in line for the restaurant. Yvonne laughed and talked about her first kiss nearly head-butting her in grade school, and some of the male coworkers blushed, realizing that their first kiss probably went very similar.

“Mine was just pressing our lips together, and his eyes were wide open!” The image made you double over laughing, Xavier’s hand loosening its grip on yours. He didn’t want to hear it, knowing that other people touched you just as he had or wanted to .

The line got smaller, and people went around telling their stories. By the time the table was ready, Xavier’s palm was drenched in sweat. You could tell he was uncomfortable, his eyes that so often focused on yours now drifting to the street. He lead you to the table, pulling your chair out for you and taking his seat next to you.

If it had been up to him, he would have changed the subject, his stomach turning at every single word he listened to you speak. It wasn’t fair to withdraw his hand from your leg; it was his own foolish brain that had him caught up in the past. He noticed the look you gave him after you all ordered your food, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

The sound of your coworkers talking caught your attention, drawing you away from your efforts to get Xavier’s attention. At times, it was hard for you to get him to look elsewhere; his eyes always focused on you. However, he looked at his plate, organizing the silverware and making sure they all sat in their respective places.

“Xavier?” Your voice pulled him out of his daze, just as it always did. It was often that you found him sleeping in unusual places or zoned out, and your voice always woke him. “Are you okay, baby?”

The sound of the nickname had Xavier’s heart beating rapidly before he thought about who else you called that in the past. It was hard for him to let go of the past; it stuck to him like glue, reminding him of times he wasn’t there for you. More than anything, the past ate at him, causing him to get lost in thoughts many times.

“Hm?” Xavier hummed, smelling the food put out in front of him. It looked delicious, and his stomach rumbled. Fighting Wanderers all day was exhausting, and nothing was better than eating a meal with you. Well, maybe eating a meal with you in the seclusion of your or his apartment. The man nodded, swallowing a bite of his food. “Yeah, I’m okay, just listening to the conversation.” That was a lie. He hadn’t heard one word that was uttered through the group since you sat down. You knew he was lying as well, your eyes narrowing as you nodded. It wasn’t good to argue in front of your coworkers, so you relented, making sure to remember to bring it up later.

“My last relationship ended in a mess,” Tara complained, taking a sip of her drink. Rolling her eyes, she leaned into you, acting like she was fainting. “He had the maturity of an 18-year-old, and I couldn’t handle the jealousy.”

“That sounds terrible. Jealousy is the worst.” You mentioned it in passing, listening to your other coworkers speak about their past. Though Xavier only heard the end of your sentence. Jealousy is the worst. He took a bite of his food, eyes directed towards the plate.

There were times you would notice a bit of jealousy from Xavier, his arm tightening around your waist or eyes narrowing slightly. Even though you hadn’t been dating for too long, you had been friends and work partners longer. It also just happened that you were one of the only people able to read him so well. Almost as if you had seen his expressions for ages.

It wasn’t until the conversation focused on you that you shrugged, taking a bite of food - and giving yourself the opportunity to think - before you answered. Looking around at your few friends, your eyes caught Xavier. He was playing with his food beside you, his breathing shallow.

“Oh, it’s been a while since my last relationship…” You started, feeling Xavier tense up just slightly beside you. It wasn’t something you talked about before, and you could feel how he hung off your every word. “We didn’t end on bad terms, and it wasn’t a long relationship… It just didn’t feel right.”

“So he wasn’t ‘the one’?” Yvonne air-quoted, eyes drifting over to Xavier and how he resembled a statue. Even his fork was frozen on his plate. When you nodded, she laughed, leaning on her hand. Her head flicked quickly to the man sitting next to you, hoping he didn’t notice (he did), eyebrows raised in curiosity. “Do you think you’ve found ‘the one’?”

It was your turn to freeze, and Xavier sensed it. The unusual fluctuation of your heartbeat that he was so in tune with. The way your breath hitched as she finished her sentence. Everyone else was waiting for your answer, but Xavier already knew. The bond you shared spanned across centuries and planets. Of course, you had found the one.

“I… I think so.” Nervousness seeped into your words as you snuck a glance over to Xavier. His jaw was tight, holding back on announcing his undeniable and immortal love for you. You didn’t remember all the other times, but there wasn’t a moment of his life that he didn’t dedicate solely to you. Clearing your throat, you locked eyes with Xavier, your fingers gripping your fork tighter. “I hope so.”

With that, Tara directed her attention to Xavier. He had been quiet, even quieter than he normally was around the office or in conversation. Xavier felt eyes on him, but he didn’t pay attention to them, focusing on your sparkling irises under the restaurant lights. It wasn’t until you shot him a questioning look that he snapped out of it.

“Huh?” His head tilted, giving Tara a confused look. A giggle fought out of your throat, finding his absentminded staring endearing. He always seemed older than he said, his eyes telling stories from galaxies far away.

“I said ,” She sighed, not actually upset at Xavier for ignoring her. “We’ve heard from everyone at the table about previous relationships but you! Got any good stories for us?”

Silence fell on the table as everyone leaned forward in anticipation. There was talk among many of your coworkers about Xavier’s personal life. Everyone wanted to know if he was charmed by anyone before you, as he always seemed so preoccupied with being the best Hunter in Linkon.

A soft pink crept on his cheeks for just a moment, quick enough for you to notice it but not for anyone else to say anything. It had been a few seconds before he straightened his back, shrugging nonchalantly.

“I don’t see why any of that matters. The past is the past.” His heart ached to say that because, to him, it wasn’t true. The past was also his present and future, all at the same time. But they wouldn’t understand. “All that matters is who I’m with now.”

As his gaze drifted to you, your skin pebbled with goosebumps. Your relationship was still new, drifting over the line from coworkers to lovers. Yet he looked at you like you were the sun, moon, and stars. Like he saw your face in every constellation and still went out stargazing every night.

“So this is your first relationship?” Tara let out a strangled noise as she asked impatiently, shaking her head at Xavier’s answer. She, more often than not, meant well, but you tried to put a hand on her arm, not wanting to embarrass your boyfriend.

“Yeah.” It was all that needed to be said, sincerity laced in every letter. Some would be embarrassed, but Xavier was neutral. He waited for you, found you, and didn’t intend to let you go. It’s how it always was and how it always will be until he ceases. The stares of your coworkers did nothing to him, his eyes going down to his last bite of food.

“Oh, that’s cute! You get to teach him the ropes.” Yvonne’s eyebrows wiggled as she looked at you. Her teasing expression only made you shrug, picking at the last of your dinner. The outing was winding to a close, and all you wanted to do was go back to your apartment.

After finishing your meal, you laughed, shaking your head. If only they knew how Xavier taught you how to appreciate the little things. How he was unwaveringly dedicated to you to the point that he lost sleep worrying about you. He taught you how to be cared for… Maybe how to be loved, that was up in the air. You hadn’t uttered those words to each other yet.

It was true that you had experienced all the things that he hadn’t in a relationship, but you were playing it slow. Xavier was someone you really cared about, and you felt connected to him on such a deep level that it made your chest ache. If you ruined it by rushing into things, you couldn’t forgive yourself.

As the conversation drifted, waiting for the waiter's check, you looked over at Xavier. He was already staring at you, his mouth tilted in a slight frown. Time slowed down as your eyes met, his nose twitching as if lost in thought. All he could think of was preserving this memory in his head. You always looked beautiful to him, but having your attention, he could positively say that there wasn’t anything better than having you look at him.

When the check came, Xavier grabbed yours in a flash, already grouping his with yours. Since you started dating, there wasn’t a thing that Xavier would let you pay for. He would waste all his money if it meant having more of your time. Money was temporary; time was a gift that might run out at any point.

Xavier pulled your chair out for you, guiding you through the restaurant and to the front. After paying, you bid farewell to your coworkers, all surprisingly going in different directions. With a moment alone, you wrapped your hand around Xavier’s bicep, leaning into his side as you walked to your apartment building.

“Your apartment or mine?” It became a routine, having dinner at one of your apartments before separating for the night and sleeping alone in your beds. There were a few times you took a nap together, loving the way he nuzzled into your chest or wrapped his body around yours. However, you hadn’t extended that stay to the whole night.

“We already had dinner…” You trailed off, looking at him. It was already late, and although tomorrow was an off day for you both, there wasn’t much to do besides go to bed.

“Can we have a snack and watch some TV then?” His simple question was met with silence. The invitation did sound nice, the two of you not getting much time alone lately due to the influx of missions. “I just want to spend more time with you tonight.”

Your grip on his arm faltered as he said that, a smile gracing your lips. You shared the desire for some time together, which tugged at your heart. Most of your recent missions had been solo, and by the time you ate dinner, you were both ready to resign to your own apartments. Xavier just wanted more time .

“How about my apartment, then? I have more snacks at mine than you have at yours.” Your laughter echoed through the streets. Crowds of people outside the bars yelled and screamed, but all Xavier heard was your laugh.

“Sounds good, honey.” His words dripped with comfort, seeping into your bones. If there was a place you wanted to be, it was wrapped up in his arms. Nothing made you feel safer; it was like you were invincible.

On the elevator ride up to your apartment, you laced your fingers with his. His palm was sweaty, his skin moist, and he tensed up when you held his hand. Softly, he shook his hand away from you, giving you a forced smile. He didn’t want you to see how anxious he was.

Thoughts of earlier, your descriptions of your first kiss and your last relationship. Xavier couldn’t help his jaw clenching at the way his imagination ran wild. If only he was quicker at finding you… Maybe he would be your first kiss… Maybe he could have had just a little bit more time with you…

The sound of your lock turning broke Xavier from his internal conflict. His eyebrows furrowed as he made his way to your kitchen. From your months of friendship and shorter time of dating,, he knew your apartment well. It also helped that he would often come over for late-night snacks.

Letting him handle the snack, you turned on the TV, setting it to a random channel. It didn’t matter what was on; it wouldn’t be watched anyway. A documentary started, and planets and stars were projected onto the screen. The narrator started speaking about the galaxies, the camera panning to a beautiful graphic of a planet. You were captivated, hearing that it was light years away and would be impossible to reach in someone’s lifetime.

“What are you watching?” Xavier asked, sitting down next to you and setting the chips on the coffee table. As he watched for a moment, he felt his heart ache. Stealing glances over at you, he listened to the narrator speak. The concept of time was something that people struggled to grasp, yet as Xavier listened, it wasn’t so complicated to him. He would spend every waking moment of his life with you. It was that simple.

“Just some space documentary.” You wanted to look over at Xavier, but you were entranced by the sights. It felt as if you were traveling through the stars, sitting in your own spaceship with Xavier next to you. There wasn’t anywhere you couldn’t go and nothing you couldn’t do.

As you sat together, absentmindedly eating a few chips, Xavier was lost in his thoughts. The documentary didn’t matter to him, his eyes glazing over and jaw clenching. He watched you, imagining another person kissing you, touching you, treating you in ways he wished he could express that he wanted to do. He traveled so far for you, his soul pulled across the cosmos… for you .

Xavier sat back, head tilted onto the couch. He had to take a second, his mind sabotaging him into thinking about the past. It haunted him—past, present, and future. It all tightened around his neck like a noose, strangling him with the what-ifs and the what-will-be .

Noticing that the man beside you was silent, you looked over. His jaw was clenched again, and his hands were on his stomach. The eyes that normally looked at you with care and affection now looked at the ceiling. There was that look…

“What are you thinking about?” You leaned back, turning your body so you were closer to him. Your hand rested on his chest as you watched him breathe. Slow, methodical breaths like he was asleep, yet his eyes were open.

The man’s breath hitched, your touch causing his nerves to come alive. He never felt truly alive until he was with you. If you weren't there, he would just immediately fall asleep as soon as he got home from work. You made him want to live.

“You.” Was his response.

His eyes didn’t drift towards you, not wanting you to see just how vulnerable he was. For you to know just what he did to be with you, he didn’t think he wanted that. He had to be strong, hold you close, and never let go.

“What about me?” Your voice turned to a whisper, the music in the background of the documentary interrupting around the silence. It was comforting, but not as comforting as feeling Xavier’s heartbeat under your hand.

He hummed, his fingers thrumming on his stomach. Every atom in his body begged to reach out and hold you, pull you into him so that every particle of him connected to every particle of you. His soul was put on this planet to be with yours. He felt that, and he was sure you felt it too.

“I’m… Thinking about earlier.” He tried to be vague, skirting around his jealousy. A low heat settled in his stomach as he thought about it. But the past was the past; he should let go…

“About what I said?” You asked. Even though he tried to hide it, you saw right through him. In the weeks before you started dating, you noticed the looks he gave some of your male coworkers. It wasn’t possessive but rather somewhat cute how you were able to see through him.

Xavier nodded, a long sigh escaping his lips. It wasn’t that he was jealous - even though he kind of was - it was the fact that he couldn’t get to you in time. He knew he was your person, and knowing you were with others at one point, having to figure out that they weren’t meant for you. If only he found you quicker… You would have been wrapped up in his arms a lot sooner.

“Yeah.” Another one-word answer… His throat betrayed him, his mind racing as he tried to put into words just how much he needed you. Mind, body, and soul. He was bound to you, his soul cursed - or to him, blessed - to find yours over and over. Since he had you, he had to experience you. All of you .

“Do you want to elaborate?” As your hand started to leave his chest, he grabbed your wrist. Fingers danced up your arm to intertwine with yours. The grip he had on you, like a tether to this world, almost hurt. Weirdly, it was like a weighted blanket the way it comforted you, his warmth radiating from him like a sunset.

He hummed again, his eyes flicking back and forth between imaginary points on the ceiling. Perhaps they were long-lost stars, his vision reaching light-years away to gaze upon them. Xavier imagined you were both sitting on those stars, waving at each other from across galaxies.

“I just…” His voice was less than a whisper, and you had to lean closer to him to hear. “When was your last relationship?”

Xavier’s eyes were still far away, so he couldn’t see the frown on your lips. During dinner, it was obvious he was tense, and you knew that he might carry a bit of jealousy with him. His voice, though, was less jealous and more melancholic.

“Oh.” Silence settled between you for a moment before your thumb began massaging the back of his hand. It was hard to remember the exact date, memories of your time before Linkon came into view. “More than a year ago… Maybe two?”

He nodded slowly, feeling your eyes on him. It took everything in him not to look at you because he knew he would crack. Biting his lip, he blinked, his hand that grasped yours tingling with electricity. Letting it sink in, he knew he had to be vulnerable. He was always honest with you, honest about his wants and needs. But he also always put you first, taking into consideration your reactions and emotions. If it were up to him, he would erase that person’s existence from this timeline and every other one of the past and future. He couldn’t stand knowing that someone else looked at you in the way he did.

“Okay…” He trailed off, his jaw once again clenching. The image of you under someone, your eyebrows scrunched in pleasure from someone other than him? His blood boiled as it pulsed through his veins. He desired no one other than you; no one would ever fill the empty spaces in his soul quite like you did.

“Jealous?” You smirked, the hand that wasn’t clasped in Xavier’s moving to cup his jaw. The way your thumb rubbed his chin, dangerously close to his lips. It drove him crazy .

“No.” With a small tug, he pulled you into his lap, his hand disconnecting from yours to rest on your hip. He sat properly on the couch, his head tilting back down so his eyes met with yours for the first time since you got to your apartment. Stars danced in his eyes like lovers sharing a first dance at a wedding. “You’re mine now.”

In the months you’ve been dating, it was the first time he’s used such words: You’re mine . Such possessive words never slipped from his tongue, but it felt right . Yeah, you were his just as he was yours. There was an energy that brought you together, and if you believed in fate, then it was fate that put you there.

“And you’re mine now, too.” You repeated, your legs sitting on either side of his hips. Slowly, your hands moved up his arms to his shoulders. It wasn’t the first time you were in this position, but the tension between you was different. It was a gravitational pull that had you scooting up, your hips hovering over his.

“That’s right, honey.” His eyes shone bright, the moonlight from outside reflecting in his bright blue irises. The hand on your hip hovered, just the light brush of his fingers actually tickling your skin. It both excited and frustrated you at the same time. You wanted him to touch you, and knowing Xavier, the only way he would is if you said it out loud.

“You can touch me, Xav.” Your fingers threaded through his hair, testing the waters, giving him enough time to push you away. God , he would never push you away. If anything, he would pull you closer . Leaning closer, you brushed your nose with his, feeling both of his hands grip your hips more firmly. Your thoughts clouded as you bit your lip. “What you said earlier…”

“Yeah?” It was phrased as a question, his eyebrows raised. The hands-on your hips sat stiff, unmoving. Unsure of his actions, Xavier paused in case he did something wrong.

“Is it true?” The answer seemed obvious, but to hear it from his mouth once more was good enough. Knowing that he hadn’t experienced anything with anyone else was exciting and terrifying. Stuck between happy you would be the only person to watch him get lost in the depths of pleasure but scared that you wouldn’t satisfy him enough.

Xavier’s cheeks sparked pink, his lips twitching as he tried to formulate a response. He wanted to give you more than a one-word answer. You deserved poetry written in your honor, pages upon pages of love declarations from Xavier’s past, present, and future.

“Yes, it’s true.” He nodded, his thumbs slowly massaging above the waistband of your pants. It was a bit awkward, his hands moving like a robot, and you giggled. Wiggling your hips, you felt him through his jeans. A gasp fell from his lips, eyebrows scrunched together. When he spoke, his voice was tight, as if he were trying to force the words out. “I never felt quite as connected to anyone as I do to you.”

His gaze drifted from your eyes to your lips and then back up to your eyes. It was a frantic back-and-forth, and he wanted so badly to just smash his lips onto yours. As each word was spoken into the air, you felt his heart crying out to you. It was true: He has never and will never be connected to anyone else but you. He was your star that would always hang in the sky above, watching down on you.

“I can say the same to you. I thought we were just good mission partners.” Your fingers twirled his hair, recalling the day you met him. How familiar he looked when you saw him for the first time, yet you didn’t know his name. You had never met that man in your life, but why did he look so familiar? “But then I realized that our feelings ran deeper for each other.”

Smiling at him, you pulled back, feeling a sigh from his lips. You were teasing him, depriving him of the one thing he wanted - needed. It was vulnerable to admit those things to him, not wanting to strain your fresh relationship with such deep declarations of your feelings. But it was true.

Your hand moved from the back of his head to his jaw, your thumb running along his jawline. His breath hitched, hands gripping a little tighter at your hips. There were so many things he wanted to do to you, his thoughts catching up to him as he imagined you underneath him. He tried to get your attention, his head leaning closer to connect your lips. When you leaned away from him, you smirked.

“Honey…” His eyes glazed over, and his bottom lip tugged into his mouth. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” You confirmed, leaning into him and letting your thumb move from his jaw to his neck, swiping over his pulse point. A small jump came from the man below you, and you felt him twitch in his pants. Knowing the effect you had on him made you feel powerful, your arms erupting in goosebumps as you put more of your weight on his crotch.

“I’ve never been with anyone before, so there are a lot of firsts I haven’t experienced yet…” He gulped, feeling your weight press into his hips. Slowly, he moved his hands to your lower back, pushing until you were forced to fall onto him. Your noses brushed, eyes wide at his bold move. “Can you be my firsts? I want to experience them all with you. Every little thing.”

Instead of answering him right away, you closed the small distance, pressing your lips to his. Breaths mingled as you traced his bottom lip with your tongue. Just as he always did, he opened his mouth, inviting you in. Your tongues explored each other, mapping out familiar bumps and dips. It was a slow, languid kiss, and if Xavier could stop time at this moment, he would. There was no other place he wished to be but in your arms.

You pulled away a few inches, your eyes flicking between his. Pink blossomed on his cheekbones, his ears hot as he felt the intensity of your gaze. His hands moved back to your hips, but you reached down, grabbing his wrists and bringing them to their previous spot. It was exhilarating, feeling him touch you and press you closer to him.

“Are you sure you want that?” Your touch on his shoulders sparked the fire in him, and the way you guided his hands made him squirm below you. “Every little thing?”

It was a frantic nod of his head as he kissed you again. He grabbed at the back of your shirt, almost like at any moment you would disappear. Your thumbs trailed down to his collarbones, feeling them through his shirt. You wanted to touch every inch of him, listen to his moans, and feel his heartbeat increase as he was overwhelmed by pleasure.

“Yes, I’m sure.” His confirmation was spoken against your lips, need pulsing through him as he kissed you again. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah, we c- oh!” As you tried to say yes, Xavier startled you by standing up. His hands held your thighs, biceps flexing as he held you close to him. It was awkward, and he took the slow steps to your bedroom unsure and tentatively. You weren’t too heavy for him; it was just hard for him to navigate when he couldn’t see where he was walking.

“Ow,” Xavier mumbled, a bang coming from beneath you as he kicked a corner of the hallway. Laughing, you buried your face in his neck, kissing the junction between his shoulder and throat.

“Xavier!” You laughed harder, feeling your back hit your bedroom door. He thought it was already open, but he just walked straight into it. To get back at him, you nipped at his skin, a low groan coming from him as he reached down slowly and turned the doorknob.

“Sorry, sorry.” He repeated, setting you gently on the bed. Rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, he looked at you. “Did I hurt you?”

Another small laugh as you shook your head, holding your hand out to him. “No, just startled me. Now come here.”

He obeyed, taking your hand and letting himself be guided to sit on the bed. Seconds felt like centuries as you climbed back into his lap. Your lips ghosted over his neck, and your hands tugged at the hem of his shirt.

For being a Deepspace Hunter, Xavier was quite clumsy sometimes, his arms flailing around as he tried to rid himself of his shirt quickly. Maybe it was just that he so desperately wanted you to touch him, to be bare for you and allow you to drink every inch of him in.

Warm hands pulled you closer, Xavier’s breath heavy as he searched for your lips. Being too excited, he missed once, his lips grazing your cheek before pulling back. He was only stunned for a moment, bringing himself back to reality. Cupping your cheeks, Xavier leaned in properly. A low moan escaped the man below you as he connected your lips.

Your tongues dance, your noses brushing and bumping together as Xavier became more animalistic. A drop of spit escaped the corner of your mouth, trailing down your chin before falling on Xavier’s heaving chest. As you pulled away, he looked at you, pupils blown wide as he took in the way you looked. Just as desperate and messy as he probably did.

Moving apart gave you the perfect opportunity, your kisses moving from his face to his jaw and then eventually to his neck. Soft gasps came from Xavier as your tongue brushed his skin, your lips leaving wet patches. Slowly, you kissed across his shoulder, treating his body as a map. Each place you kissed was a memory of you. No one else touched him like this, and you were given a blank canvas to create roads and valleys at your leisure.

“Honey…” Xavier moaned, the way you trailed kisses across his body, your hands also running over his muscles. It was all so much . He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted, thoughts muddling together in one clump in his brain. There was one thing he was certain he craved, though. You . Always you.

“Hmmm.” A hum caused him to groan, his hands falling from your hips and resting on your shoulders. Your voice vibrated through his body as you wrapped your lips around his nipple. The way his fingers gripped your body had his hips rising off the bed slightly.

“Fuck,” It was unfair, Xavier feeling your heat through your shirt. How was it that he was the one stuck underneath you, shirt discarded somewhere on the floor? But as your hand brushed his other unused nipple, he couldn’t actually remember what he was thinking a second earlier. Another expletive was forced from his lips, his thumb brushing against your pulse point.

Not wanting to torture your poor boyfriend, you continued your road. His abdomen was hard, both from pure muscle and the contracting need in him as he bucked his hips up. Each kiss on his skin only forced him further to the edge. If you continued like this, he would have to do laundry tomorrow, his pants and underwear ruined by a premature release.

Yet it was exciting, so Xavier let you continue your path, your tongue dipping in his naval before sucking a mark right next to it. If you were going to make marks, it would be where only he would see them. Fingers gripped your hair, his hands flexing as he felt your teeth nip at the side of his hip.

You followed a small tuft of hair right below his navel, your fingers playing with the button on his pants before finally popping it free. Being impatient, you pulled his pants and underwear down on his thighs just enough to pull his cock out. He was so pretty as you looked up at him. His cheeks were as red as his tip, his chest heaving, and shining kisses trailing around his body.

His cock was pretty, too, curved towards his chest and throbbing under your fingers. Long but not thick, the perfect size to press right against your spongy walls but not stretch you painfully. Shying away from your eyes, Xavier looked away. He couldn’t take it, watching you admire his cock like it was the newest constellation in the sky.

So it came as a surprise to him when he felt your tongue wrapping around his tip and dipping into his slit. Your mouth was warm and wet, and Xavier instinctively chased that, lifting his hips. He moaned when you looked up at him through your lashes, your hand splayed on his thigh as you held him down.

“Behave, baby.” You warned him lightheartedly, knowing he was experiencing it for the first time but not wanting to end up with a bruised throat by the end of it. Xavier’s mouth hung open as he watched you place open-mouth kisses along his length, tongue flicking out to taste his salty precum that had dripped down. His eyes never left yours, wanting to commit the visual to his memory.

“You look beautiful like this.” His words came out rushed, a low moan following as you wrapped your lips around his tip again. A flush spread from his cheeks to his neck, all the way to his chest. Watching him carefully, a hand still pressed into his hip, you lowered your head. He throbbed in your mouth, his tip just quickly pressing into the back of your throat before you pulled off.

Your other hand slowly jerked him off, seeing the way his eyes moved from your hand to your face. With a sadistic smile, you ran your thumb over his tip, rubbing and pressing into his skin, and you relished in the surprised gasp and hint of a whine from the man below you. With slow, tortuous strokes, you licked a stripe up his cock, sucking at his tip as your hand moved to cup his balls.

Xavier’s hip wiggled, his thighs flexing as he used every ounce of strength to not cum. His thumb smoothed over your forehead, fingers scratching lightly against your scalp as he nearly bit into his bottom lip. His normally calm heartbeat was thrumming against his chest, entranced by how enthusiastic you were to do this to him. Arching your back, he noticed the curve, your ass in the air and thighs clenching.

“No,” Shaking your head, you stroked him slowly. Your tongue poked out to run along your bottom lip, the taste of his salty precum lingering. “ You look beautiful like this.”

Xavier’s fingers strained against the sheets, his abdomen flexing as you watched him. The light dusting of hair right above his cock shone in the overhead lights of your room, a trail leading you to what you needed the most.

“Fuck, can’t do this.” His throat tightened, the shackles in his heart rattling as he took in how ethereal you looked. He gently pulled at your hair, urging you to come back up. “I don’t want to cum right now…”

With a chuckle, you straddled him again, his bare cock now pressed against the seat of your pant fabric. He let out a shaky breath, hands holding your hips as you kissed him. The salty bite of your tongue against his caught him off guard, but it also excited him more. You had tasted him, and now more than ever, he ached to get his own taste test.

“How do you want me? I want to go at your pace.” Your hands played with the hair at the back of his head, and your eyes traced his features. A light blush on his cheeks transitioned to deep red ears .

After a moment, Xavier looked up at you, his normally bright blue eyes shifting into something a bit darker. Like the sky before a hurricane, the blue darkened into indigo, only adding fuel to the fire ignited in your lower stomach. It took a moment for him to regain his composure, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes struggling to stay open.

In a flash, Xavier sat up, his hands holding your hips as he tried to flip you over seamlessly. However, a soft thud echoed through the room as your head collided with the wall. With wide eyes, Xavier watched you rub the top of your head, and before he could ask if you were okay, you laughed. Grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him down to your lips, kissing the corners as you looked up at him.

“I’m okay.” You fought out between laughs, your body shaking as his lips turned down. Your hand cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. The soft smile on your face calmed him down, hands gently stroking your sides. “Don’t worry, Xavier. I’m really okay.”

Memories flashed across his eyes, and he thought of all the hurt he had watched you go through. He couldn’t live with himself if he was the cause of it. With a deep breath, unspoken words were shared, a gentle nod of your head helping spur him on.

His lips teased your skin, fingers still shaking with worry as they drifted under your shirt. With you laid out on the bed, it was easier for Xavier to tug at your shirt. Nodding, you helped him get rid of the article of clothing. Seeing your bra, he tried to reach out, hands drifting behind you to play with the clasp. His long fingers struggled for a moment, a frustrated sigh coming from him until he finally got it.

Tossing it over his shoulder, his hands held your torso. Thumbs caressed your skin as he sat back. Need clawed at his skin, his whole body frozen. The blue eyes that always looked at you with care and affection held a deep, deep desire that you didn’t know he possessed. Sensing his hesitance, your hands drifted to your pants, playing with the button and fly. A silent question fell from your eyes, and Xavier answered it in his own silence. Yes, please…

“Take them off.” Your eyes drifted to his pants and boxers, still halfway down his thighs. Working at your own clothes, you watched him stand up frantically. Ripping at his pants, his stomach clenched as he stood next to your bed. When you looked back at him, standing there in all his glory, you spread your legs, your clit throbbing. You needed him . “Come here, baby.”

Xavier climbed onto the bed, kneeling between your inviting thighs. He touched you softly, his index finger lightly trailing from your knee up your thigh until he could grab hold of your hip and pull you closer.

Staring at you, Xavier understood his purpose in life. He always knew he would follow you to the ends of the cosmos. But as he looked into your eyes, your body bare and waiting for him… There wasn’t anything that would get in the way of him loving you. He would follow whatever path you were on like a puppy, his nose trained to your scent.

I should put this in a letter , he thought, realizing that at that moment, letters weren't needed. You were right in front of him, ready to listen to whatever words he spoke. The brush strokes could be painted onto your skin, words embedded in your soul for you to remember for eternity. He had you now.

A minute passed, and your impatience grew fast. Needing his hands on you, his cock in you. His gaze made you shiver, the intensity causing your pussy to clench around nothing. Soft stroking of your stomach made you wiggle in his hold, a low whine coming from the back of your throat.

“Xavier.” You begged, mouth hanging open and a small trail of drool falling from the corner of your lips. Your thoughts were jumbled, only thinking about the way he touched you and how you so desperately needed more . “Please, do something… Touch me, kiss me, fuck me. Anything.”

For once, he wasn’t hesitant; he knew exactly what he wanted… So he leaned down, pressing tentative kisses to the front of your throat before moving to your shoulder. Nipping at your skin, he felt your gasp before he heard it. The path trailed down, kitten licks on your nipple, causing goosebumps on your arms. Your hand threaded through his hair, tugging on the strands, and a moan vibrated through you from Xavier.

Slowly, he migrated lower, his hands on the inside of your thighs and lips nipping at the skin of your stomach before he was where he wanted to be most. His eyes widened, the sight of your dripping pussy right in front of his eyes inviting him for a taste. Gentle rubs from his thumbs on your thighs caused you to sit up on your elbow, your fingers messaging his scalp. Looking a bit lost, you were going to help him but were caught by surprise when he dove in, flattening his tongue and licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“Oh fuck .” You groaned, meeting his eyes as he pulled away, a dazed grin on his lips as your arousal glistened on his jaw. Just one touch and you were on fire, his hands drifting across all the right places and eyes devouring you whole.

He hummed, his tongue flicking out to collect more of your essence. Only one taste, and he was addicted . He dreamed about this, fantasized about finally seeing you, all of you. It felt like centuries ago when he looked into the depths of your soul, recording his adventures for the day he found you. All he could do was hope for a happy ending.

Your nerves were on end; eyes clouded with lust as you watched your boyfriend grind his hips into the mattress. Diving back in, his tongue traced every part of your pussy. Around your folds, around the hood of your clit, and curiously dipping into your entrance. It felt good , but he was searching for something. He wanted a reaction but wasn’t sure where to look.

“Xavier.” His name coming from your lips snapped him out of it for a moment, his hooded eyes finding yours. Another flick of his tongue collected the remaining juices from the corners of his mouth, and he nodded, waiting for you to continue. Your hands moved down, gliding over your thighs to spread your folds. He watched, entranced, as your fingers gently touched your clit. A sharp gasp ripped in your throat as you bit your lip, trying to show him exactly what to do. “Focus here.”

Nodding like an obedient puppy, the tip of his tongue got closer, your hole clenching as he passed around it. He knew he didn’t get it yet, so he scooted closer, his nose pressing against your pubic bone. With a small flick, he heard you yelp, your hand shooting to his hair to keep him exactly where he was.

A smirk stretched his lips as he continued his assault. Hands held your thighs open as he devoured you like a man starved. And he was . He had been starved of you for his entire life, his soul partner, the one that completed all the parts he was missing. His brain melted, his head only filled with thoughts of you, spread out for him, begging for him.

“You can… fuck …” Trying to speak, you were preoccupied with the slight pain of Xavier’s fingers bruising your thighs, pleasure coursing through you as he put all his attention on your clit. “You c-can use y-your f-fuck fingers.”

Immediately, Xavier’s finger was coated in your arousal as it traced your entrance. By his own inexperience or his fear of hurting you, he was slow . The feeling of your walls as his middle finger got up to the first knuckle had him groaning against your clit. Alternating between fast flicks and slow licks to your sensitive nub, he pressed in until he was all the way up to his knuckle.

Gentle thrusts started as Xavier wiggled his finger inside you. He wanted to feel every inch of your body, inside and out. As slow as the first one, he began inserting his ring finger. Your hole clenched around him each time his tongue ran over your clit, and he imagined how it would feel around his cock. With that image in mind, his hips stuttered against the bed, cock pressed between his stomach and the sheets. He took it slow, knowing if he did as he wanted, there would be an obscene amount of cum pooling under his hips.

His eyes drifted up, watching your face as his lips suctioned around your clit. With a suck, your mouth fell open in a silent scream, hips bucking into his hand and mouth. Accompanied by the slow thrusts of his fingers, you already felt the coil in your lower stomach tightening. In his exploration inside you, he came across a textured patch of skin. He pressed with a hopeless curiosity, and your hips jumped, a long moan wrapping around him.

“Right there, Xav. Fuck .” Groaning, your pussy gripped his fingers as he massaged the spot over and over and over. Each noise that fell from your lips only spurred him further, sucking and licking your nub while he beckoned you closer with his fingers. Loud whines fell from your lips, his own noises muffled and causing even more vibrations on your clit. He was loving it, hips fucking into the mattress a bit quicker. He had to get you there; he needed you to cum for him.

Each second that passed felt like an eternity, Xavier getting lost inside you as he listened to every moan, felt every clench, and saw every expression on your face. A slow drip of drool twinkled in the light, falling from your mouth to settle on the top of your breast. Your mouth was forced open as your throat vibrated with whines and moans. Your stomach tightened with each small thrust and movement of his fingers, your high ready to shoot you off into space.

“Xav,” You panted, your head tilting forward to lock eyes with him. He looked drunk on your pussy, his face buried in your clit and fingers pumping in and out of you. “I’m close.”

Yes . A low hum vibrated from his lips, his pace becoming erratic and teeth gently grazing against your sensitive nub. Each vibration and stroke of your walls had you gripping his hair, your fingers almost ripping each follicle out one by one.

Hearing your moans quicken, Xavier felt ravenous, his fingers speeding up and pressing even harder into your spot. Each time you clenched around his fingers, he moaned against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“ Fuck, I’m coming!” His name left your lips like a mantra; eyes screwed shut as he gently guided you through your orgasm. Fascination rolled over his features as he watched you come undone, the sounds you made changing just slightly in pitch, your tight entrance strangling his fingers. Every little thing he noticed, he added to the museum of you inside his brain.

Pleasure started growing into overstimulation as Xavier tried to continue. He wasn’t sure when to stop, wanting to milk every last second of your release. When your hand gripped his wrist, he blinked, eyes searching yours.

“Too… Much…” You breathed, his fingers slowly pulling out of your pussy and leaving you empty. Xavier brought his fingers up to his lips, his tongue wrapping around his digits as he cleaned himself of your come. Just the sight alone had you ready for another round, eyes rolling in the back of your head as he groaned at the taste.

“Taste so good.” He was in awe. He did that . The glistening slick on his fingers and the way your chest heaved with each breath. Some part of him wished he had filmed it, so that he could go back and watch it over and over and over and over… That was an idea for next time.

A gentle awkwardness flashed across his features, and he moved up your body, his knees brushing against the back of your thighs. His slim cock pulsed against his abdomen as he looked at you and only you. Kissing you felt natural, so that’s what he did. Pressing his lips against yours you could taste the remnants of your release on his tongue. It turned you on, remembering how he ground his hips into the mattress, enjoying eating you out almost as much as you did.

“How was it?” Xavier asked, pulling away from your lips for just a second to whisper the question into the air. If he kissed you, maybe you wouldn’t notice the small inkling of insecurity that crept into his words.

But you did; you heard the soft rise in his tone as he moaned against your mouth. Teeth knocked together as Xavier pressed against you even more, your noses becoming very familiar as you switched sides back and forth. Your hands on his shoulder and chest stopped him, pushing him back just enough so you could get a good look at him.

A red blush crept back onto his cheeks, his heart beating loudly against your hand. The insistent desire to please you, to wait on you hand and foot like the queen you were, was hard-wired into his heart. He had to make sure he did well because if he didn’t, then there was a lot of practice and research to be done…

A soft laugh brushed against his cheeks as you leaned your forehead against his. Grabbing his hand, you held it to your chest, making him feel the rapid beat of your heart. Your eyes swam in his, watching surprise and satisfaction pass over his features.

“Is that your answer?” You kissed him, softer and more affectionate. All the reassurance and care you could muster was put into the kiss, hoping Xavier could understand. Of course, he could . He knew you probably better than you knew yourself. Even though he had missed the mark a few times, his enthusiasm and long, slender fingers reached places you couldn’t with your own hand.

“Yeah… Yeah.” He panted, his cock brushing against your folds, and he looked down, eyes wide as he watched you clench around nothing. Desperation flashed in his eyes, his hands moving to the backs of your thighs to hold you open for him. “ Fuck … Can I?”

Frantic nods of your head almost caused whiplash, your hands gripping his shoulders. A million ‘yes’s slipped from your lips, your brain caught in a loop as you begged. With a shaky hand, Xavier gripped his cock, his tip brushing against your clit. He wanted to see every reaction, the way you bit your lip as his precum-stained tip traced your folds, dipping slowly inside you before pulling out.

With one particularly loud whine, you grabbed his cock, stroking a few times, and Xavier almost passed out. Grinding into the sheets and his own hand pumping himself was nothing compared to your fingers wrapping around him. He was hypnotized, watching you guide him to your entrance. An impatient gaze waited for him as he looked back at you.

Then he slowly pushed in, and fuck was the stretch bizarre. It had been some time since something that big was teasing your entrance. Each inch of him felt heavenly, your walls melding around every small bump and vein. It was impossible to close your mouth, your head tilted back as words flew from your mind.

The man above you clenched his jaw, feeling his pelvis brush against yours. The tuft of hair at the base of his cock brushed against you, and you looked back at Xavier. He was a mess , his teeth nearly ripping his bottom lip off and sweat tracing the shape of his nose. The veins on his arms pulsed as he held your thighs, keeping you open for him.

“ Fuck .” Xavier cursed, his eyes screwing shut at the crushing pressure he felt inside you. The curve of his cock pressing into that one spot inside you. He had to hold back, his abdomen flexing as he pulled out. The sight of your juices on his cock almost made him cum, but he held on, pressing back into you slowly.

Languid, careful thrusts had you seeing stars, your nails digging into Xavier’s shoulders. The way his cock pressed into you so right, like you were made for each other, was unlike anything you had ever experienced. His breath pushed from his nose; his mouth clamped shut as he tried to focus on not cumming .

“Xav.” Your legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands went to your hips, guiding you to grind onto him. The new angle had your nerves on edge, your eyes blown wide, and staring straight into his soul. “Right there, Xav. You’re doing so well.”

His breath hitched, having to pause his thrusts as he let the words wash over him. Fuck yes, he would do anything to get those words from your mouth again. So he quickened his pace slightly, his face hovering an inch above yours.

“Am I doing well?” He gasped, his thumb pressing into your skin. Hearing you say it again might have made him cum immediately, so he kissed you, selfishly swallowing your whines. They were his . His to listen to on repeat, his to record and playback when he was away on a solo mission, his to steal all for himself.

“Yes, yes.” You repeated as you disconnected your lips from his, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip, and you struggled to control your legs. “So well, Xav. Fucking me so well.”

That did it. His body stilled, cock twitching and releasing all his pent-up frustrations into your pussy. It was really warm, the feeling spreading through you as you looked at him. His cheeks were even more red than before, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Hey, it’s okay we can cl- fuck .” Your words were cut off by a thrust, Xavier’s hips pistonning into yours. His eyebrows furrowed, his face concentrating. Thoughts were lost to the stars as his thumb began rubbing circles into your clit.

“Need… to make you… fuck … cum…” His words were strangled by overstimulation, your pussy clenching so tight on him that he thought he would lose circulation. But it was he who couldn’t hold it together, and he had to suffer because he needed to see your face overcome with pleasure again.

Long strings of curses fell from his lips as he pushed you further and further, and within a minute (albeit a very long and painful minute), he heard the hitch in your moans. He knew you were close, so he leaned down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth.

“ Fuck , Xavier, I’m-” Your hand gripped tightly in his hair as your legs shook, your orgasm hitting you like a semi. A chest-tightening orgasm pulsed through your veins as you stiffened in his hold. His thumb continued rubbing lazy circles into your sensitive nub, watching your face twist from one of pleasure to one of discomfort after a minute.

Slowly, Xavier pulled out of you, body unceremoniously flopping onto your bed. He watched lazily as you got up to use the bathroom, and he looked at the ceiling. Images of the stars light years away sparked in his eyes, and he imagined bringing you on a journey with him. Maybe he will find out when the next shooting star shower will be and take you to watch it with him.

Hearing the toilet flush, he saw your figure emerge, still naked as you climbed into bed, laying your body on top of his. Silence floated around you for a moment as you drank in the moment, and then you looked up at Xavier, your chin resting on his chest.

“You kept asking how you did but how did I do? How was your first time?” You asked, a gentle smile on your lips as your thumb brushed his skin. It was hard to answer, not being able to put how much it meant to him in words. Perhaps he would write you a letter…

“I think…” He paused, his hand lazily tracing circles into your back. “That it was the best moment of my life, and I’ve lived through a lot. Even though I accidentally came too quick.”

“You still made sure I came, though. And you were amazing at it.” Laughing, you kissed his jaw, kind of enjoying the blush on his cheeks. Maybe you should tease him more.

“Yeah, you were amazing too. And now that I’ve experienced it, I want more.” He confessed, his soft breath against your forehead as he kissed you there. “I want to experience everything with you, honey.”

You lay on his chest, hearing his heartbeat against your ear. The way his arms enveloped you, ready to protect you from the dangers of the world, had your body fully relaxing in his hold. A low hum from your lips was his answer, but your confirmation, with a nod, helped ease his taut nerves.

“That sounds good. Let’s experience everything together, my star boy.” You weren’t sure where the nickname came from, but it felt right. He was your star boy, his light shining down on you and comforting your uneasy soul. Closing your eyes, exhaustion pulled at your body, tugging you deeper and deeper into slumber.

Xavier felt his heart clench, the deep thrumming threatening to burst from his chest. Your star boy . He loved it, and he smiled, kissing the top of your head one more time before relaxing into the pillow.

As you lay in his arms, Xavier felt nostalgia wash over him, remembering similar circumstances. However, this time, you were breathing softly, eyes closed in slumber, and heart beating consistently against his own. You were safe and sound in his arms just as you had been then, but he was sure that you wouldn’t leave him this time.

“Go to sleep, my darling.” He whispered to your already sleeping form, his fingers brushing across your forehead. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

519 notes · View notes

mischievoushiddleston · 6 months ago

Text

Jealous? Never.

Tim Bradford x Reader

Materlist Here!

The sun warmed Y/N's skin as she got out of her patrol car. She paused for a moment, letting the stress of the day fall away and simply enjoying the peace and quiet. Her eyes closed for a split second before she was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts by a familiar, teasing voice.

“Daydreaming, Officer Y/L/N?” The words were accompanied by an unmistakable scent that enveloped her, as it often did, before she even turned around.

Y/N slowly lifted her gaze and met Sergeant Bradford's piercing blue eyes, which, as always, scrutinized her impassively.

“No, Sergeant Bradford,” she replied with a slight smile that emphasized her own teasing. “I was just enjoying the peace and quiet ... at least until you showed up.” She closed the patrol car door with a soft click before pushing past him and walking over to the table where Angela and Harper were already seated.

“No food?” Harper looked at her with raised eyebrows, her voice carrying a hint of surprise.

Y/N shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "My rookie will take care of it. There's something reassuring about it. Now I understand why Tim always let me do it." She gave Tim an amused sideways glance, while he merely shook his head and made a skeptical sound.

Angela, who was watching the spectacle with a broad grin, leaned forward and changed the subject. “Anyway,” she began, "I heard you had a date yesterday? How did it go?"

Y/N opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by her Rookie, who appeared just in time with a tray of food. She gave him a grateful nod, waited until he was out of earshot again, and then took a deep breath. With a resigned shrug of her shoulders, she let the tension of Angela's question slide through her body.

“So?” Angela urged with a knowing glint in her eye.

“It wasn't as satisfying as I expected...” she admitted slowly.

“Go on,” Angela urged as she casually took a bite and looked at Y/N curiously.

Y/N sighed softly before she began to recount the disastrous date. The man she had gone out with turned out to be a completely incompetent jerk, and the whole date was a bust from start to finish. As she recounted the most embarrassing details, she secretly vowed never to go on a date again - at least not if it was just to distract herself from her own feelings.

Because deep down, she knew that she always found herself thinking about someone else. Someone who was unattainable. A man who was far too present in her fantasies and completely taboo in reality: Tim Bradford, her supervisor.

She kept talking, but the more she said, the more she became aware of the unusual silence emanating from the side where Tim was sitting. Normally, he could hardly resist a sarcastic comment or a biting remark when she complained about something. But this time there was nothing. Not a word.

Maybe she was just imagining things? Maybe he just didn't feel like taking part in the conversation. But the longer the moment went on, the heavier the tension became. She risked a furtive glance at him, only to find him silent and with an indefinable expression in his eyes.

Was it disinterest? Or perhaps something else? Uncertainty gnawed at her, and she had to force herself to turn her attention back to Angela and Harper, even though she was already beginning to rethink her words.

Eventually the topic drifted, and Y/N tried to concentrate, to really listen, as Angela and Harper took the conversation in a new direction. But as much as she wanted to, her thoughts seemed to keep wandering back to Tim. His silence, his look - everything suddenly seemed more meaningful than it probably was.

“I could set you up with one of my cousins,” Angela suddenly interjected with an amused smile, as if she'd had a flash of inspiration.

The words had barely been spoken when Tim stood up abruptly. His chair scraped loudly across the floor and he reached for his barely touched food.

“Break over,” he explained curtly, but there was an underlying growl in his voice that Y/N heard all too clearly. It was so quiet that Harper and Angela might have missed it, but Y/N sensed the tension in his words.

She frowned involuntarily, watching as he marched away with quick steps and finally got into his car. The door slammed so hard that the bang echoed through the air.

“Someone's in a bad mood,” Harper muttered, shoving another forkful of food into his mouth without taking his eyes off Tim's car.

Y/N just hummed softly, an indeterminate response, as she replayed the scene over and over in her head. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his behavior. Eventually, she rose as well and set off, but her heart beat faster as she approached her car.

The rest of the shift passed without incident, but Y/N struggled to really concentrate. Her thoughts kept returning to Tim, his unusual tension and the unspoken words that hung between them. When the shift finally ended, she was both relieved and uneasy.

At the station, she dropped off her gear and began to get ready for the end of the shift. As she walked down the corridor, her gaze fell into the distance, where she saw Tim disappearing towards the changing rooms. Even from a distance, she could see his tense posture - the stiff shoulders, the quick steps. It was obvious that something was bothering him.

Y/N sighed softly, almost unconsciously, and followed him. As she came closer, their eyes crossed for a brief moment. She smiled cautiously, hoping to lighten the mood, but he didn't return it. His face remained expressionless, perhaps even more withdrawn than before, and he disappeared behind the door without a word.

An unpleasant feeling spread through her. Had she said or done something wrong? She went over the day's events in her mind, but couldn't find an obvious reason.

Suddenly John passed her and she took the opportunity to stop him. “Is something wrong with Tim?” Her voice sounded quiet, almost hesitant, but the concern in it was unmistakable.

John paused and shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know... He's been like this since lunch,” he said casually before moving on, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Y/N sighed again, deeper this time, feeling even more at a loss than before. But she decided not to just go home without at least trying to figure things out. Reluctantly, she walked towards the changing rooms, her steps slower than usual. Maybe, just maybe, she would be fast enough to intercept him in the parking lot. It was a weak plan, but she knew she wouldn't get any rest all night otherwise.

When Y/N arrived at the parking lot, the disappointment was not long in coming. Tim's car had already disappeared, and with a frustrated sigh, she finally made her way home as well. The day had drained her, but the uncertainty and unspoken feelings weighed heavily on her.

As soon as she entered her apartment, she dropped her keys in the bowl in the hallway and ran a hand through her hair. Another disappointing day. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? The men she dated always turned out to be disappointments - idiots who couldn't come close to matching the man who was constantly on her mind.

Tim.

Why couldn't anyone be like him? Strong, resolute, reliable - and at the same time with an unconscious gentleness that touched her more than she would ever admit. These thoughts accompanied her to the bathroom, where she undressed with a sigh and stepped into the shower.

The warm water washed over her body, relieving the tension of the day, and she hung her head briefly before leaning against the tiles. Tim. His image forced itself into her mind again, so vividly that she could almost grasp it.

At first it had only been respect. His authority, his experience, his incomparable instinct - all that had made a deep impression on her. But over time, it had become something deeper, a feeling she could no longer ignore.

The water ran over her skin and she hummed softly to herself, enjoying how the heat relaxed her muscles. But then her thoughts drifted in a different direction. She imagined him looking at her - with that penetrating, all-encompassing gaze that always upset her.

Involuntarily, her hand slid to her breasts. In her imagination, it was his rough hands touching her sensitive skin, his fingers taking her nipple between them while he whispered soft, dirty words in her ear. A soft moan escaped her lips and a tingling sensation ran through her.

Her legs instinctively pressed together as she imagined his hard, muscular body pressed against hers, his erection rubbing firmly against her ass. His hands wandering determinedly over her stomach, sliding lower until they reached her pussy.

In her mind, it was Tim forcing her to open her legs with his knee, feeling her so intensely that she could barely breathe. Her hand followed her thoughts, touching her where she wanted to feel him, where the heat was strongest.

But before she could lose herself further in her fantasy, the sudden ringing of the doorbell snapped her out of her daydream.

Y/N paused, her hand trembling slightly as she found her way back to reality, breathing heavily. Whoever it was had ruined the perfect moment - and yet she wasn't sure if she was grateful or angry about it.

Y/N turned off the water, grabbed the towel and hastily wrapped it around her still damp body. The sudden ringing still echoed in her ears as she walked with quick, annoyed steps to the front door. Whoever it was had chosen miserable timing.

As she opened the door, ready to vent her frustration, she froze instantly. Her lips remained slightly parted, but no words came over her as she realized who stood before her.

“T-Tim?” Her voice trembled and her thoughts seemed to stop completely for a moment. The man in front of her, soaked from the rain, his blue eyes more intense than ever, left her unable to think clearly.

But before she could even understand what was happening, Tim closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was raw, demanding and full of suppressed emotion. Y/N stood transfixed for a moment, surprised by the sudden passion that overtook her.

But it didn't take long for her body to react. Her heart raced as she took the initiative, returning his touch and pulling him resolutely into the house. The door slammed shut behind them, the soft click drowned out by the sound of her own pulse.

Tim's hands were everywhere. They explored her body with an urgency that made her tremble. His fingers ran over her back, pulling her closer to him as he pressed her body against the cool wall. The thin towel covering her almost naked body suddenly felt like a barrier that they both wanted to get rid of immediately.

Their lips parted for a moment, and Y/N gasped for air before Tim planted hot kisses on the line of her neck, hitting her most sensitive spot and eliciting a soft gasp. His touch was firm yet demanding, his hands running over her waist, leaving her in no doubt as to how much he wanted her.

Her thoughts were blotted out, only the here and now mattered. And Tim. Only Tim.

With trembling hands, Y/N reached for the hem of his shirt. Her fingers touched his skin as she slowly pulled it over his head. The garment landed carelessly on the floor, but her attention was focused only on him. Her eyes slid over his muscular chest, sculpted by years of hard work and discipline.

With a mixture of awe and desire, her fingers traced the contours of his muscles, tracing each hard ridge of his chest and abs. Her touch was gentle, almost reverent, as she felt his muscles tense under her fingers.

“Please... Tim,” she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper, but full of desire. Her hands traveled upward, caressing his shoulders and finally his neck, where she reached into his dark hair. She pulled him gently towards her while her body leaned longingly against his.

Tim paused for a moment, his penetrating eyes searching her gaze as if to make sure she was as devoted to the moment as he was. Then, without a word, he untied the towel that was wrapped around her body.

The fabric fell silently to the floor and the cool air of the room brushed against her now bare skin. Tim took half a step back, his eyes slowly gliding over her body. His gaze was intense, admiring, and his chest rose and fell noticeably faster as he looked at her.

“You're beautiful,” he murmured hoarsely before leaning forward again. His lips found their way to her breast and a soft gasp escaped Y/N as he encircled one of her sensitive nipples with his mouth.

The warmth of his tongue, the gentle but determined way he spoiled her, made her heart beat faster. She placed one hand on his head, holding him there, while her other hand pressed against the wall behind her to keep her footing. His teeth brushed lightly over her sensitive skin, sending a shiver through her body.

Tim didn't give her a moment to think, his hands finding their way onto her hips, pulling her even closer to him as his lips left her breast and sought their way lower. Y/N's breathing became heavier, her thoughts blurred, and she lost herself in the sheer intensity of his touch.

Y/N's breath came in gasps as Tim released his lips from her breast. His hands remained firmly on her hips, his fingers leaving a burning desire on her skin. For a moment he looked at her, his gaze dark and full of passion. Without a word, he bent down slightly, lifting her up with ease and carrying her in his arms.

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her face close to his. Her lips found his, and she kissed him hungrily as he walked down the hallway with firm steps. The intensity of the moment made her forget everything else - the soft creaking of the wooden floor, the distant sound of the rain outside. All that mattered was Tim.

Once in the bedroom, he pushed the door open with his foot and gently laid her on the bed. Y/N felt the cool sheets against her skin, but it was the heat of his body that she really sensed. He leaned over her, supporting himself with his arms while his face was only inches away from hers.

“Tim...” she whispered and placed her hands on his chest. Her fingers slid over the hard contours of his muscles before holding onto his pants. “Take your clothes off,” she added softly, her gaze urgent and full of desire.

A wry smile played around his lips, but his eyes remained serious, almost hungry. “As you wish,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

He straightened up as Y/N lay on the bed, watching his every movement with an impatient tingle. His hands reached for his belt, slowly undoing it before he slid his pants over his hips and let them slide carelessly to the floor. Underneath, he was only wearing a pair of tight-fitting boxer shorts that barely concealed how much he wanted her.

Y/N's gaze traveled over his body, over the definition of his muscles, the strong line of his thighs, and she bit her lower lip slightly. “Anything,” she whispered demandingly, a shy smile on her lips, but her eyes betrayed that she was serious.

Tim slowly removed his boxers, and Y/N's breath caught as he stood completely naked in front of her. His body was a perfect blend of strength and masculinity, and her thoughts were momentarily blotted out.

He stepped closer to the bed, bent down to her again and placed a hand on her cheek. “Are you sure?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but imbued with passion.

“Yes,” Y/N replied without hesitation, pulling him close until his body was once again close to hers. The moment was unstoppable, and she knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Tim let his gaze slide slowly over her body until it finally lingered between her spread thighs. His eyes were dark, almost devouring, and the expression on his face made Y/N's heart beat faster. With a slight squeeze of his knee, he pushed her legs even further apart and she willingly obeyed him, opening herself completely to him.

“So good,” he murmured in a low, raspy tone that sent a shiver down her spine. “You're perfect...all over.”

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt his hand stroke her thigh, slowly, almost torturously. His fingers traced small circles on her skin as his gaze deepened between her thighs. He shook his head slightly, a smug, crooked smile on his lips.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you're driving me?” His voice was husky, and as he spoke, he let his fingers trail higher, just below her most intimate spot. Y/N's body tensed in anticipation, a soft gasp escaping her.

“Tim...” she pleaded softly, her voice full of longing, but he seemed to be taking his time tormenting her.

“So impatient,” he teased her, leaning forward until his face was close to hers. "I've been thinking about you all day. About what you'd look like if I had you right in front of me... naked, ready, and all for me."

His words made her tremble, and another gasp escaped her lips as his fingers finally slipped between her legs. The contact was gentle, almost teasing, but it was enough to drive her mad.

“Do you feel that?” he asked, his voice almost a growl as his fingers explored her further. "How hot you are? How wet?"

Y/N could only nod, unable to form words as her body arched toward him. Her hands gripped his shoulders, clawing into his skin as he slid one finger inside her and then added a second.

“You want more, don't you?” he asked as he slowly pleasured her with his fingers, driving her to the brink of madness. "Tell me. Tell me how much you want me."

“I ... I want you,” she gasped, her voice trembling with desire. “I need you, Tim ... please.”

The smile on his lips widened and his movements became faster, more intense. “Good start,” he murmured as he continued to work her, giving her pleasure and demanding at the same time: "But I want to hear everything. Tell me what you feel. What you want."

His body was now close to hers and she could feel the warmth of his skin, the strength of his muscles as he drew her into a world of pure ecstasy with words and touch.

Tim watched her every reaction, her unsteady breaths, the trembling of her body under his fingers, and a self-satisfied smile flitted across his lips. “You're so sensitive, Y/N,” he murmured as his fingers moved in a slow circular rhythm, deep inside her. “I could spend all evening tormenting you like this.”

Y/N writhed slightly beneath him, her hands seeking support on his arms, her head pressed lightly into the pillows. “Tim...” she gasped, her voice pleading. “Please stop teasing me ... I need you.”

His blue eyes fixed her, a dangerous gleam in them that made her tremble even more. “That urgent?” he asked, lowering his head to let her feel his hot breath on her neck. His lips brushed her skin, his tongue leaving a wet trail as he nibbled on her most sensitive spot.

His fingers suddenly left her, eliciting a soft, disappointed gasp from Y/N. But before she could protest, he knelt between her legs and pushed them further apart so that she presented herself fully to him. His gaze traveled slowly over her body, lingering on the heat between her legs, and his tongue ran over his lips as if he intended to devour her.

“You have no idea what you're doing to me,” he said hoarsely, his voice full of passion and possessiveness. "I want to hear you scream, Y/N. I want you to shout my name so loud that everyone knows who owns you."

Before she could answer, he leaned forward and his tongue stroked slowly and firmly over her most sensitive spot. Y/N's whole body tensed, a loud moan escaping her lips as he worked her with his mouth. His tongue found the perfect rhythm, alternating between gentle and more intense movements until Y/N began to squirm against him.

“So, so sweet,” he murmured as he paused briefly to savor her reaction. His hands gripped her hips, holding her tightly as she moved uncontrollably. "Stay still, baby. Let me finish you off."

Y/N could do nothing but obey him. Her fingers dug into the sheets, her chest rising and falling frantically as the waves of pleasure rolled over her. “Tim... I...” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence as he slid his tongue deeper, exploring her until she seemed to dissolve.

“I know, babe,” he whispered, pulling back a little to use his fingers again as his thumb teased her most sensitive spot. "I know exactly what you need. Tell me. Let me hear everything."

“I want you inside me,” she gasped, her voice rough with desire. “I can't take any more ... please, Tim.”

A dangerous smile appeared on his lips, and he straightened up, his imposing presence over her like a burning flame. “Suit yourself, baby,” he murmured as he wrapped her legs around his hips, positioning himself and filling her with a single, deep thrust.

The sensation made them both gasp out loud, and Y/N clutched at his shoulders, her nails leaving red marks on his skin. Tim moved slowly, enjoying seeing her beneath him, completely at his mercy and overwhelmed with lust.

“So tight... so perfect,” he moaned as he increased the rhythm, getting deeper and harder, each movement accompanied by a soft, dirty whisper. "Tell me how good I make you feel, Y/N. Tell me no one else will ever be enough for you again."

Y/N moaned his name, her voice rough and full of devotion as she clung to him as if she was finding support in him. His every movement sent waves of pleasure through her body, and with each powerful thrust, he rolled his hips with such precision that he hit the spot inside her that nearly made her lose her mind. Her fingers clawed instinctively into his back, leaving fine red marks that bore witness to the intensity of the moment.

His movements were a perfect blend of control and passion - possessive, as if he wanted to mark her as his forever, and yet tender, almost reverent, as if he was savoring every second with her. The alternation between demanding intensity and gentle devotion brought her to the brink of madness.

“You're so perfect, Y/N,” he murmured hoarsely, his voice vibrating deep in her chest as he looked at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Every inch of you is mine. And only mine."

His pace increased, his hips moving in a powerful rhythm as his hands gripped her hips as if he could pull her even closer. Y/N's body responded to his every touch, her back instinctively lifting off the bed as she arched towards him, completely lost in the thrill of his nearness.

Y/N felt the heat growing in her body, but she wanted more - she wanted to overpower him as much as he wanted to overpower her. With a sudden jerk, she spun around, using the momentum to push Tim onto his back. Surprised, he let himself fall, his eyes wandering up to her, full of desire and slight amusement.

“So you're taking the lead?” he asked, his voice dark and raspy as a crooked smile graced his lips.

“Oh, I will,” she replied breathlessly, her eyes sparkling with determination. She pushed her hair back and sat on top of him, her hands resting on his muscular chest, her nails scraping lightly over his skin, eliciting a low, rough moan from him.

Y/N moved her hips slowly, teasingly, letting him feel her heat without immediately giving him everything. His hands gripped her thighs, trying to guide her rhythm, but she stopped him with a challenging look.

“Patience, Sergeant,” she whispered with a confident smile. “Now it's your turn to be tortured.”

She leaned forward, her lips grazing his collarbone before she let her tongue glide over his skin. Her movements remained slow, provocative, and she savored the way his body responded beneath her - his tense muscles, the deep, raspy breathing coming from his chest.

As she began to move her hips in a deeper, steadier rhythm, a throaty moan escaped him. His hands slid over her body, holding her as if he wanted to regain control, but Y/N wouldn't let him. She moved faster, letting herself be driven by his desire and her own lust.

“You look so good when you give up control,” she whispered as she leaned back slightly, her movements becoming even more intense. “Tell me how it feels, Tim.”

“It feels like you're killing me,” he growled, his voice rough with arousal. “And I love it.”

His words drove her on, her movements becoming more demanding until they were both on the edge of a climax they reached together - their names mingling in a symphony of passion that filled the room.

Tim let her enjoy the control for a moment, but then something changed in his gaze - a mixture of challenge and burning desire. With a sudden movement, he grabbed her hips, held her tight and began to thrust into her from below. The unexpected depth made Y/N gasp loudly, her head falling back as her hands clutched at his torso.

“Did you think I was going to let you do all the work?” he murmured with a dangerous smile, his breathing heavy and erratic. His hips moved in a powerful rhythm, each thrust deeper and more intense than the last, until she could barely breathe.

Y/N's body shook above him, and she couldn't stop another moan from escaping her throat. But that wasn't enough for him. One of his hands let go of her hip and slowly moved forward until his fingers found the most sensitive spot between her legs. With skillful movements, he began to rub them as he continued to thrust into her from below.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered hoarsely, his gaze fixed on her face, which was contorted with lust. "I want you to explode. I want you to remember who you belong to."

His words and the intensity of his touch drove her to the brink of madness. Her fingernails scratched across his chest, leaving red lines as she moved towards him, taking him even deeper inside her.

“Tim, I...” she gasped, her voice breaking as she felt the climax inevitably approaching.

"Don't talk. Feel," he interrupted her in a raspy voice as he pressed his thumb harder against her sensitive spot, the movements of his fingers and hips perfectly synchronized.

Y/N's body tensed, her breath hitched, and then the wave of ecstasy overtook her with an intensity that made her tremble. Tim held her tightly, letting her enjoy the moment to the full without letting up for even a second.

As her breathing slowly calmed down, he pulled her closer to him, his movements becoming slower, but no less demanding. “I'm not done with you yet,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her passionately again and beginning to explain the next peak.

Tim held her body tightly, his movements deep and controlled, but the urge to reach his own climax began to make itself felt in every thrust. Y/N felt him tense inside her, his breathing becoming heavier, his rhythmic movements more erratic but just as intense.

“Y/N...” he gasped, his face buried in the hollow between her neck and shoulder as he pulled her against him, as if he wanted to feel her even deeper. His hips met her body so perfectly with each thrust that she thought she could feel the tension rising inside her again.

“I'm with you,” she whispered, her hands running through his hair and clutching the back of his neck. She could feel his muscles trembling, holding back hard to hold on a little longer.

“You feel so incredibly good,” he groaned, his voice rough and full of passion. “I want ... you to feel everything ... until the last moment.”

Y/N wrapped her legs around him tighter, pulling him even deeper inside her, and the sound of his throaty, low moans made her body tremble again. His movements became more uncontrolled, more intense, until he finally remained deep inside her and the tension was released.

A loud, harsh sound escaped him as he finally reached his climax. His grip on her hips tightened, his body vibrating as he released everything into her. Seconds passed in a frenzy, his breathing heavy and erratic, and his forehead rested against hers as they both tried to regain their senses.

“Y/N...” he finally murmured, his voice a husky whisper as he gently lowered her into the mattress. His eyes met hers, and for a moment the world seemed to stand still.

She smiled faintly, her fingers stroking his cheek. “That was...”

“Perfect,” he finished the sentence for her, pulled her closer and let his body sink against hers. Their breaths melded together and all that remained was the heat of their bodies and the unspoken words hanging in the air.

He held her gently in his arms, his fingers sliding soothingly through her hair as their breaths slowly found a steady rhythm again. Y/N snuggled up to him, her head resting on his chest, which was still rising and falling slightly from the exertion.

“That was... unexpected,” she finally breathed, a soft giggle accompanying her words as she let her lips brush tenderly across his chest.

Tim let out a low, satisfied hum as he lightly brushed her neck with his lips. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you first,” he admitted, his voice soft but firm, “but when I saw you in just that towel...” He interrupted himself, a slightly guilty but amused smile crossing his face. “I just couldn't stop myself.”

Y/N lifted her head slightly, resting her chin on his chest and facing him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “What did you want to say?” she asked curiously as her fingers brushed playfully over the line of his jaw.

He took a deep breath as if to gather himself for the words to come. His eyes met hers, full of honesty and determination. "You're mine ... whether I'm your superior or not. I don't want to hide that any longer, Y/N. I'm in love with you."

His words made her heart beat faster. She searched his eyes for a hint that he was hesitant or unsure, but instead all she found was sincere emotion. A warm smile spread across her lips and she leaned in to kiss him gently.

“I love you too,” she whispered against his lips before smirking slightly. “Or rather, I'm in love with you.”

Tim raised his eyebrows and grinned mischievously. “I liked the first one better - with the ‘I love you’,” he teased and pulled her towards him for another kiss. Their lips met, passionate and intimate, as if the tension of the last few months had finally dissolved into something tangible.

When she pulled away, he looked at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Just so we're clear, you're not going on any more dates. Unless they're with me."

Y/N laughed softly, raised an eyebrow challengingly and asked pointedly, “Oh yeah? And what if I do?”

His grin widened, and before she knew it, he had turned her onto her back with a smooth jerk. A surprised sound escaped her as he leaned over her, his hands on her wrists, his gaze intense and playful at the same time.

“Then I'll remind you every time who you really belong to,” he whispered harshly, before his lips found hers again and the world around them faded away.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford smut #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford #the rookie #eric winter smut #eric winter #eric winter x reader

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yoiisa · 2 months ago

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Hey Sofie!! Hope you're doing well! I wanted to make a request for a Wind breaker fic if that's okay!

Can you do a Sakura Haruka x Reader one where Reader's been pining (mutually but Sakura is so dense he doesn't even know what he's feeling) after Sakura for like a while. And like just recently figured out that they've liked him romantically.

I'm pretty sure you know how sensitive Sakura is to romantic stuff, and if you've read the manga, and has like a romantic sensor where he can tell someone has feelings just by the look in their face.

Now, what about Reader is trying their best to hide their feelings for Sakura and Sakura is like 'THEY LIKE SOMEONE?!' And that's the whole plot. They get together by the end of it.

IM REALLY SORRY IF I'M LIKE BEING TOO SPECIFIC ITS JUST THAT THIS CAME TO MY MIND AND I COULDNT GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD 💔😣

Feel free to ignore if you don't like this 🙏 Thanks for reading!! 🌹

this is so cute oml. it reminded me of this time I didn't realize a guy had a crush on me until five months after we stopped talking and my friend was the one who pointed it out (ᵕ—ᴗ—) im suuuppper dense irl!

➜ in my mind, the first person to actually bring it up to Sakura would be Nirei. Like, it would be as they're leaving school for the day, and you happen to be there ➜ here's the thing though: like you said, he can still tell something's up. that blush you're rocking doesn't go unnoticed. he just thinks it's for someone else entirely

"Sakura!" you call, waving your hand. Nirei, Suo, Kiryu, Sakura, and Tsuguera come to a pause as they see you walk over. You hold some small wrapped candies out to them. "I got these in a goodie bag from the arcade. I don't like these flavors so you can have them!" Sakura, cocking his head to the side just huffs. He can feel his face growing warmer by the minute, and he's not about that. He casts his gaze off to the side and huffs, "I don't want your leftovers . . ." but he still takes them! "That was really nice of [name]!" Nirei says as you send them a wave and walk away. "What flavors did she bring?" Kiryu asks, peaking at the wrappers in Sakura's hands. Sakura rolls his eyes and practically throws them into Nirei's hands. "Tch. Who cares? She just wanted an excuse to come over here and see Suo." When the boys all freeze and stare at him like he's grown fifty heads, all he can manage is a flustered "The fuck are you looking at?!"

➜ and here's the kicker. this goes on for months. literal months of sakura thinking that you want suo, because every time you come over, suo just happens to be nearby. ➜ you also go to suo for advice on Sakura as well, so you're spending even more time with him through that, and it really isn't helping your case here ➜ all of the other boys can tell though, that it's sakura you want, but none of them say anything: nirei feels bad for keeping quiet and tries to change the subject whenever you come up, kiryu says you could do better (which sakura wholeheartedly agrees with, completely oblivious to what kiryu's actually saying) tsuguera doesn't really care all that much, and suo? ➜ SUO THINKS IT'S HILARIOUS ➜ always one to mess with sakura, he's taking this incredibly seriously. he nods in agreement with sakura's assessments, and moans about how "it's too bad, she's such a nice girl but I'm just no interested . . . oh what to do . . ." ➜ and sakura feels bad, so he overcompensates for what suo's "lacking" ➜ he's more warm with you when you walk up to him ➜ if the two of you go somewhere together after/before school starts, like kotoha's restaurant, he'll carry your bags for you. if you see something you like, like a keychain or even one time, just a really good looking apple, by the next day, it's yours. you get worried at first that sakura's spreading his funds low over you, but he just waves you off and says it's from bofurin's influence.

"Sakura, seriously?" you sigh as he holds out a tiny stuffie of a white puppy with a black spot on its eye. "I didn't even touch it . . ." "But you wanted it didn't you?" Sakura asks before gently tossing the small dog to you. "I saw you staring at it when we walked past." "Yeah, but I didn't get it because it's a collectors edition from this brand. This must've been crazy expensive!" Sakura just shrugs. "The owner of that store gave me a discount. Said his daughter knows Umemiya or something. Said he likes Bofurin . . ." You gently stroke the soft fabric of the dog's coat. you do really like it, and the asymmetrical design kinda reminds you of Sakura. Your eyes widen as a hand comes up and pats you. When you look up through your lashes, you see Sakura's face growing pinker by the second. You feel your own cheeks heat as he says, "You wanted it, [name]. That's . . . that's reason enough." His words are hardly a whisper, and his voice is hoarse, as if he's forcing them out. Still, it's genuine enough that it earns a bright smile from you, and a soft "Thank you."

➜ eventually sakura reaches his breaking point with suo, because he wants you! of course he wants you, who wouldn't? you're smart, talented, and beautiful! suo is so ungrateful for not appreciating you properly, and sakura tells him as much

"What's your damage asshole?" Sakura grumbles one day as he pokes a straw through his juice box. It's hot outside, and he just got finished cleaning up grafiti on the side of some convenience store. "Hmm? What do you mean?" Suo asks as he wipes his forehead on the collar of his shirt. "If you don't have feelings for her, just reject her already," Sakura snaps. "It's worse for you to drag it out and make her think she has a chance with you-" "Who're you talking about?" Hiragi asks, unwrapping his ice cream sandwich. "[name]," Suo says. "You know her?" "Oh," Hiragi says. "Eh, not all that much. I saw her at Kotoha's restaurant the other day though. She was talking about some guy thing, but I could've sworn she said 'Sakura' and not 'Suo'-"

➜ oh lordy, poor sakura's brain just breaks ➜ like full on short circuits ➜ because what the actual fuck does hiragi mean you were talking about him to kotoha? that doesn't make any sense ➜ but when he looks up at nirei and suo, they're giving him knowing smiles. ➜ he thinks back to the past four months and how you were always trying to single him out from the group. he thinks about the sparkle in your eyes whenever you saw him and how you brighten, and how your smile widens, and how- ➜ HOLY SHIT YOU LIKE HIM-

Sakura body is moving before he can even compute anything happening around him. Suddenly, his entire being is on a one track minded sprint to your side, desperate to see you. You're standing outside, taking out the trash when he turns the corner to your street. You have lounge shorts on, a loose white shirt and your hair tied in a low ponytail. You fluff your shirt's collar to try and ventilate yourself better on this hot day, and as you look up, you see Sakura. "Oh! Sakura, hi-" You hardly manage another word, as he practically collapses onto you. His arms come around your shoulders and he squeezes. "You should've told me, idiot." "W-what?" you stammer, your arms coming up to his biceps. He huffs and pulls back, staring at you. His face is so red, he looks sunburnt, but you know he's just incredibly embarrassed. "I like you too, dumbass. So . . . so you should've told me! I was thinking it was Suo this whole time!" You give him an unimpressed look. "Suo? Seriously?" "Still!" Sakura cries out before shaking his head. He wraps his arms around you in a tight hug and huffs. "Whatever. It's over now anyways. I know everything and you know everything so we're good now." You return the hug, your arms equally tight and nod.

➜ around the corner, nirei, suo, and hiragi stand there, watching the spectacle unfold ➜ hiragi is just incredibly confused, but nirei looks close to tears of happiness and suo's messaging in a separate group chat with nirei, kiryu, and tsuguera. one that they made specifically to gossip about you and sakura

suo hayato: (one attached photo) SUCCESS! ദ്ദി´ ˘ `)✧

#wind breaker x reader #wind breaker #wbk sakura #wbk #sakura haruka #haruka sakura #sakura x reader #haruka sakura x reader #haruka sakura x you #sakura haruka x reader #wbk fluff

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keigh0e · 5 months ago

Text

Touch ↬ Caleb

Summary: You have been dating Caleb for quite a while now and you’ve had enough of him not touching you with his metal arm, so you give some not-so-gentle encouragement

Word Count: 5.9k

Triggers: smutty smut and the usual language you can always expect from me

Author Note: Meowdy .₊̣̇.ಇ/ᐠˬ ͜ ˬ ᐟ\∫.₊̣̇. Hope you’re all doing well! I finished the new stories for Love and Deepspace last night and now I’ve got Caleb brainrot, so you must suffer with me I’m afraid. This hasn’t been checked so apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes. I’d appreciate any feedback!

You were an open book to Caleb and had been for years.

Every twitch in your lips was a poem to him, every laugh his new favourite song, every tear a sonnet that pressed more weight on his soul than his evol ever could.

He’d do anything for you. No, the man was determined, he would do everything for you. Everything, it seemed, but touch you with his metal arm. There would be accidental grazes here and there, but he made a vow to himself the first night he held you after returning, that he wouldn’t let his darkness touch you.

That arm was the physical manifestation of everything wrong with him. Even though it had been years and he’d learnt how to make use of the mechanism, learnt how to make it one of his greatest weapons in battle, that’s all it could ever be to him. He wouldn’t put a knife against your throat, so he wouldn’t dare even try to hold your hand with the very thing that had taken him away from you in the first place. Now you were back with him, back in his arms.

Now he was back with you, back in the light, he refused to let the shadows of his past consume anymore than they had.

Caleb thought he was pretty good at hiding things from you. He didn’t enjoy lying to you and made an avid effort to avoid creating any more after all the Farfleet drama that had originally reunited you, then torn you apart again.

This sweet man didn’t think you carried his same brand of obsession. He didn’t know that you watched him just as intensely, noting every smile, every wince, every breath.

There was a reason you two were so perfect for each other, after all.

He had no idea that you’d caught on pretty quickly to the fact that he’d constantly do things so as to avoid touching you with his right arm.

It hadn’t been obvious at first, not until you’d caught him reprogramming the faulty appendage one night. He’d been so raw that night. Maybe it was because he was so tired and recovering, but you’d seen it clear as day, the kind of look that didn’t belong on a man like Caleb, shame.

It had broken your heart all over again.

You’d done everything you could think of to wipe that look off his face that night, you’d made him hold you, you’d taken his hand, pressed a thousand kisses to each fingertip and you would have pressed a thousand more if he’d let you. But as per usual, Caleb had pushed his own feelings aside to concentrate on yours, he’d started making lightheaded jokes the second he saw tears appear in the corner of your eyes.

Though it didn't sit right with you, you let him change the subject, thinking maybe that was what he needed. But as time passed, you began to realise how big of a mistake you’d made by allowing him to shove the topic under the metaphorical rug.

To an outsider they might not notice how he favours you walking on his left side so he can hold your hand with his. If you ever stand on the right side, the most touch you’ll get from him is his arm wrapped around your shoulder. You’d barely be able to feel the weight of him, like a layer was over you, keeping him from actually touching you with his metal arm.

He’d make you sit on his left side whenever you cuddled up on the couch, or ate together at a table. As though he was trying to keep you as far away as possible.

He was sly about it, as was Caleb’s way. If you ever touched his right arm, he’d smoothly grab your hand with his left, bringing the hand to his lips and distracting you in all the ways he knew how because, as mentioned previously, the man knew every chapter in your book. Specifically the ‘how to arouse them with one look’ chapter. He’d clearly revised over that one many many times.

Last night was the final straw for you.

He’d been showering when you arrived at his home and you didn’t think twice about getting in the shower with him.

To your shock, his arm was uncovered, not hidden under fake skin so no one but you and him knew about his little secret. He had a couple of scratches over his chest so you guessed he must have gotten hurt and had to fix his arm again.

You let out a titter, hating the idea of Caleb taking care of his own wounds, sitting alone in the dark like that last time. He’d never let you do that, so it was unfair he expected you to leave him like that as well.

Feeling your heart swell, you reached out, dragging your fingers down his arm. The usual cold steel was warm beneath the stream of water from the showerhead. You heard Caleb suck in a harsh breath, one that told you he was uncomfortable, but it just pushed you more.

You pressed a lip against his metal shoulder before nuzzling at it with your cheek. Perhaps it was too much, but you wanted him to see what you really thought of this limb Caleb seemed to be too scared to touch you with. You wanted him to know you did not share that same fear, therefore he shouldn’t either.

His head turned towards you and your eyes connected, you were stunned at the emotions in his violet gaze. The pain tore at your insides and the shame gouged out your insides. He was so beautiful, so whole, but in that moment, you saw how he truly felt.

You saw the hatred. Not at you. He could never hate you. So you knew that was all aimed at himself, at the appendage you were currently hugging to your body, practically holding it hostage.

“Caleb,” you whispered, having to swallow as tidal waves of words tried to spill out. You wanted to call him stupid for thinking you could ever fear him, even just one small part of him. You wanted to tell him he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, that he had always been the pinnacle of attractiveness for you, you’d come to this realisation as a hormonal teenager and that hadn’t changed now that you were both adults, that hadn’t changed now that one particular part of him had been replaced.

You wanted to demand he touch you back, to grip your breasts in those cold steel hands, to pull on your nipples with his fingers, to strum at your clit and play your body anyway he wanted because you trusted him, all of him.

But before any of those words could come out, Caleb had blinked away his shame. He shook his head before gently tugging at his arm. You tightened your grip on instinct.

Reaching out, he pressed his other hand against your cheek, stroking your skin with his, ever-so-brave with that touch whilst his other arm layed like dead weight in your hold. “I was just finishing up, you finish your shower and I’ll go cook us some food.”

He wasn’t even going to talk about it, was just going to move on, just acted like everything was normal.

With a press of his lips against your forehead, he pulled his arm out of your hold and exited the shower, leaving you all alone with your thoughts, with your sadness, with your rage.

Caleb always told you that were his, always made sure you knew that every part of your body belonged to him. Why was this not the same for you?

Why did he get to keep a certain part of himself away from you?

For your protection? No, that was ridiculous, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Caleb’s arms were the safest place in the world for you.

As you finished your shower, scoffing every ten seconds at the nerve of your boyfriend, a plot began to load up inside your mind.

You’d play the dutiful girlfriend tonight, the innocent friend who didn’t push too far, who laughed and smiled, who gave and didn’t demand too much. That was clearly what Caleb needed tonight and you wouldn’t push him more than he’d already been pushed by whatever fight he’d had.

But after that, you were through with this game.

Morning light slipped through the cracks in the blind, illuminating your partner who was spread out like a starfish on the bed with you on top of him, his left arm wrapped around you, holding you to his chest like you were his favourite stuffie.

You’d woken up a few seconds ago and had just watched him, your plan that you’d prepared for the night before helping get you wide awake as the excitement began to gurgle at the bottom of your stomach.

After double checking that he was definitely asleep, you reached out towards your bedside table, sliding out the top drawer so you could reach in and retrieve the handcuffs you’d snuck in there last night when Caleb had been getting in his pajamas.

You kept your movements slow, not wanting to jar your partner awake.

Reaching out, you wrapped one of the hand cuffs around the headboard. That was step one of your plan complete.

Looking down at Caleb, a sleeping beauty in his very own right, you couldn’t help but reach out and smooth a finger between his eyebrows. Even asleep, he seemed to be worried about something.

Leaning you down, you pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then his cheek. Then his lips.

As you sprinkled these little kisses, you felt something nudge against your thigh. Step two had been achieved and it was just as easy as you’d thought it would be. Even without Caleb fully awake, you could always count on one part of hiM being wide awake for you whenever you needed it.

“What are you up to, pip-squeak?” Your boyfriend grumbled, his voice all sorts of rough from sleep that your thighs automatically pressed together in reaction. You pressed another kiss to his lips, pleased when you felt him pressed back.

Reaching down with one hand, you began to rub at his dick through his boxers. Damn, you really hadn’t been wrong about him always being wide awake for you down there at least. He was already hard, the heat melting through the fabric into your hand. It was enough to make you dizzy. Luckily, you were a trainer hunter, so even the very tempting prize between his legs wouldn’t be able to pull you away from your plan of action.

Satisfaction rolled through you as he gasped at your unsuspecting touch, his hips canting slightly, trying to force more pressure from your hand onto him.

“I just wanted to wish you a good morning,” you whispered as you moved your lips over to his ear, letting your tongue trace his jawline before tugging gently on his earlobe with your teeth. All the while you slipped your hands under his boxers, touching flesh to flesh, which had him letting out the dirtiest moan.

You almost moaned back yourself. It wasn’t often you had Caleb this out of control, this raw. It was a heady feeling you could get addicted to.

And exactly what you’d been hoping for. He began to move his hips more, desperate to get a feel of your hand which you kept just above his cock, not making the move to grab it more firmly just yet.

Whilst his focus was completely taken with trying to achieve that satisfaction only you could give him, you slid your other hand down his left arm, joining your hands together and then easily moving his arm above his head. He didn’t seem to care what you were doing, his only thoughts on getting you to touch him more firmly.

You did notice that his right arm, his metal arm, was still away from you. His fingers were curled up in the mattress, and you couldn’t tell if he was gripping it because of the feelings you were gifting him, or because he was doing all he could to keep from gripping you.

The sight of his metal arm stretched out away from you cemented the plan in your mind and kept you from getting distracted, even as the most delicious whine escaped him.

You pulled your hand out of his boxers and locked the handcuff around his arm as quickly as possible, your partner didn’t seem to even notice until the click echoed in the room, still bucking his hips slightly.

His eyes finally opened, though they remained half-lidded, revealing violet rings wrapped around blown pupils. “What are you doing?” He asked, panting.

“I want to play a game, baby,” you explained in your most playful voice whilst positioning yourself better around him. “Won’t you play with me?”

You’d moved so you were laid on top of him, your hips above his crotch. The covers had been pushed back revealing his solid, naked, chest whilst you were still wearing your silk nightgown. You’d purposely worn his favourite, just to add another level of resistance. Plus, the shoulder straps might as well have been paid actors as they slipped down your arms on accident, allowing the tops of your breasts to be revealed.

He’d certainly noticed as his eyes went to your globes first, then they went down to your crotch which hovered just above his, the barest of space keeping you from settling down on his cock. Then, eventually, his eyes flicked up to glance at the handcuff you’d wrapped around his wrist. He gave a tug, as though to confirm that, yes, they really were handcuffs. Then after no time at all, his eyes returned to you, carrying with them a glare that had your playful nature purring even more.

“What’s the game?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side.

Caleb was always in control, so you weren’t surprised to see him trying to grasp it back under his control even whilst you were holding him hostage. It was kind of hot, but no, you needed to stay strong and continue on with the plan.

One look at his arm which he’d somehow stretched even further away from you after you’d moved cemented this even further in your mind.

Gently, you laid more of your wait on top of him, pressing your slit against the hotness in his underwear. Satisfaction shivered up your body as you rolled your hips ever so gently, your clit pulsing in time with your movements.

He reacted exactly as you wanted to, barely able to hold onto his control, just like you. His lips parted and his eyes shut again, his head bent further into the pillow and it took everything in you not to go back down to bite at his neck.

Never one to make you do all the work, Caleb met your rolling hips with assertive thrusts of his own, working a gasp out of you as he followed your teasing movements with his demands. “The game, baby, what is it?”

“I need you to touch me,” you revealed in a gasp. Feeling drunk on power, you reached out with both hands, pressing them on the peaks of his chest. His nipples fell between your fingers and you couldn’t help but close them, pinching at his nips, earning an unexpected response as he growled.

You saw in your periphery as he lifted his metal arm, moving closer towards you before he seemed to tighten his fist and rested it back down on the bed.

Well, that just wouldn’t do, would it?

You took one hand off his chest, leaving one to continue playing with his nipples, and reached back into his underwear. You pulled out his cock, feeling the weight of it, hot and thick, resting in the palm of your hand as you pressed it to the very centre of your clothed slit.

You moaned out and bent your head back. That wasn’t part of the game, you just couldn’t help your reaction to him, not when he was so close.

“If you want me to touch you, then you have to take off the handcuffs, baby.” You could hear his teeth grinding whilst he spoke, and you knew in that moment he’d caught on, especially when he made a point to drag the metal arm back from where it had instinctively gone to.

You stopped all movement, still keeping his dick pressed against you, letting it twitch torturously against your clit. “You know that’s not the rules, touch me with your right arm Caleb.” He shook his head again. “Do it, baby, please.”

“Can’t.” He grunted out, tugging uselessly with his left arm. He was proving you right, you knew he couldn’t resist touching you, the same way you couldn’t resist touching him. He was just being stubborn, letting whatever silly worries he has control him. You just needed to push him more out of control.

You let go of his dick, watching it slap against his stomach, leaving a trail of pre-cum that you wouldn’t have minded licking up. Maybe later.

“Look at me,” you ordered as you slowly pushed up the silky nightgown revealing inch after inch of skin. You might not have been the most confident of people, but you were at least confident of Caleb’s feelings about your body. You weren’t disappointed when his eyes followed every movement, mouth agape and eyes drunk with lust. Once the outfit was off, you reached out to touch your breasts, shoving them together and pulling on your nipples. The pulsing between your legs was an earthquake, demanding you slip onto his cock and take what was yours, but you couldn’t do that yet. Not yet. “Please touch me Caleb, I need you, so badly.”

Another grunt came out of him as he tugged harder on his arm, more beast than man in that moment. He managed to sit up, managed to get his mouth so close to the peak of your breast but you pulled away at the last second, leaving mere inches between your tip and his lips. You felt his hot breath lavish your skin and a moan crested out of your mouth unbidden. This might have been your mission, but you were just on edge as he was.

Reaching out you wrapped your hand into his hair, tugging on the strands slightly until he raised his head and met your eyes once more. “Touch me with your hand Caleb.”

“You handcuffed it, baby.”

“You have two hands,” you countered teasingly, but the mere mention of his metal arm had his expression shutting down and his head shaking once again. “Please, you won’t hurt me.” You’d abandoned the husky voice you’d been using beforehand, matching his honesty with your own pleading version. “You won’t.”

His head fell onto your chest but there was nothing sexual about the touch, not with his shoulders sagging. “I wouldn’t, not on purpose, but-”

“But nothing,” you cut him off whilst running your fingers through his hair. “It is physically impossible for you to cause me physical harm, nothing I wouldn’t want anyway.”

He didn’t respond, but you didn’t think he was ignoring you. It was clear as day that he was going through a battle, and as his partner, you needed to join this fight. Tentatively you reached out for his metal arm that was still throttling the quilt in a tight grip, the moment your fingers pressed on the back of his hand those fingers opened up.

He wasn’t pulling away immediately, that was progress.

“If I lost my arm and got a prosthetic, would you think differently of me?”

“Of course not,” he lifted his head up immediately, abhorring the thought that you might ever doubt how much he cares for you.

“Would you not let me touch you with that arm? Would you fear it?” Your fingers snaked in his and you brought the hand closer until it was resting between your stomach and his chest. Again, he just shook his head. You could see his jaw working, teeth clenching. He saw your argument, and he couldn’t exactly refute that you were making sense. You brought the hand further up, beginning to press your fingers between each knuckle. “I do not think differently of you because of your prosthetic. I will let you touch me, wherever, with your hands. I do not fear you, I love you, every inch inside and out.”

Like an animal bearing its neck to a predator, you unravelled his fingers before placing his palm around your throat.

His eyes watched every movement intensely, spellbound, and you watched second by second as that doubt grew dimmer and dimmer. Something else began to sparkle in his eyes, something familiar, the same something that was pulsing between your legs.

“My baby needs me to touch her?” He spoke so softly, you felt yourself melt a little bit more. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment. “Show me where, baby, show me where and let me take care of you.”

Your skin was practically vibrating, his gentle dominance petting you into submission, a place only Caleb could get you to fall into. Because you only trusted Caleb to this extent. Trusted all of him.

Grabbing his hand once more, you lowered it down, letting his fingers trail over your breasts. Whilst that felt good, you needed him somewhere else far more. You let him give your nipple one small tug before pushing his arm back down further, as you got to the spot between your legs, you released him, showing him that you trusted him to take care of you exactly the way you needed.

He didn’t disappoint. His metal things were cold, the change in temperature a sharp change to the heat coming from your body, you couldn’t help but coo as he slipped them further into your wetness.

“Oh, my poor baby,” he hummed, “so wet and needy for me, I’m sorry I made you wait.”

“It’s okay.” Your hips moved forward automatically as the tips of his fingers pressed against your clit, touching you exactly where you needed to feed that demanding pulse between your legs. He went slow at first, beginning to speed up as he leant forward once more and captured your nipples in his mouth. You hadn’t even realised you’d moved closer to him. You moaned out again, the satisfaction of his touch only making your body demanding for more. “Please.”

“You want to cum baby?” His fingers moved with expert precision, his thumb taking the place of his fingers as they went exploring. One finger slipped inside of you, stealing all air from you before a second one joined it, air gasping out of you with your moans. “You want to cum for me, yeah?” He asked again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted out as his fingers plunged deeper into you, reaching a spot that had lights dancing behind your closed eyelids. Then, he froze, his fingers still inside of you.

Opening your eyes, you were met with your boyfriend wearing an expression that was oh-so-deliciously Caleb. His eyes were alight with mischief, a smirk on his lips that you wanted to kiss over and over again. Gone was the man afraid to touch you with his hand.

“Prove it,” he whispered out huskily, “make a mess on my fingers, pretty girl.”

He was asking you to prove a lot more than how much you wanted to cum on his fingers, which was a lot. Thankfully, you were up for the challenge. You began to move your hips, using his hand to get yourself off. All the while, you maintained eye contact. Letting him see how you fell apart at his touch.

“Keep going,” he encouraged, leaning forward once more to press kisses against your breast. When you fell even closer against him, desperate to feel all of him, he used this as an advantage to lick across your collarbone before biting down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. “Good girl, keep going. Make a mess for me.” He groaned out.

“Do you hear that?” He whispered, not wanting to speak out the schlick that escaped every time you pushed his fingers back in your body. You were definitely soaking the bed, but you found it hard to care about anything other than just how good he felt. “So lewd, baby, but you just can’t help yourself can you?”

You shook your head, whining as you struggled to get out a word.

“Can’t help yourself, need all of me, my dirty girl,” his breath was coming out with pants, his eyes laser focused now on where his fingers pushed into you. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m yours baby, all fucking yours.” With those last couple of words he gave you everything, pushing his fingers in and out of you at a rabid pace, satisfaction rolling through him like a tsunami as he watched your wetness coat his entire hand, falling onto his lap where his cock stood at attention, hard and twitching, waiting for a chance to get in your hole.

“Fuck, Caleb!” You held onto his shoulders, worried you’d collapse on him as your hip thrusts became messy. All sensuality was lost, just an all-consuming need to cum. Caleb would provide, he always would. He’d always give you everything you needed.

Every kiss against your neck, every growl that escaped him, was his solid vow that that would never change.

“Cum for me pretty girl, give me what’s mine, give me it.” He hadn’t even finished before you were coming apart on his fingers. Your moans were cut off as a wave of pleasure rocked your body so harshly that you collapsed fully on top of him, body shaking with the aftershocks of the glorious orgasm he’d just gifted you.

Caleb watched unblinkingly, taking in every shudder, every breath you made. Taking note of everything so he could never forget this moment, could never forget how easily he’d played with your body, with the one part of his he’d never believed could be used for such soft things.

He pulled his arm out, wrapping his arm around your waist so he could keep you close. He saw his arm, witnessed his fingers splayed out on your back, so large they took up the entire middle and then some. He might not be able to feel you from his fingers, but he wasn’t scared, for the first time since he’d gotten that forsaken arm, he wasn’t afraid. He knew how you felt, how soft and how strong your body was against his.

A giggle broke out of you after a few more seconds of heavy breathing, your mind catching up with what you’d done, and what Caleb had finally done.

You lifted your head up, looking into his violet eyes with the biggest smile on your face. “I told you, you could never hurt me.” You said each word with such utter confidence that Caleb was left speechless. Instinct was running the show for him, and for the first time ever, he wasn’t forcing himself to play safe. You were right, he could never hurt you, his instinct was only ever to protect you, to keep you safe, to make you happy.

And he was only halfway through with that last part.

He pulled his metal hand back from around your waist, slipping the fingers into his mouth and sucking on each digit that had been inside you.

Once he was done, he brought the fingers up to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and like the good girl you were, you did as he said. You let him push his cold metal fingers into your mouth, let him explore the inside of your mouth with those digits.

“Is this what you wanted all along, baby girl?” He asked. “Wanted to unravel me?”

He took his fingers out of your mouth, letting you answer his question. “I wanted you to see you the way I see you.”

He cocked his head to the side, “and how’s that?”

You leaned forward, letting your lips rest against his as you spoke your next words. “Completely and utterly mine.”

The next couple of things that happened, occured within the blink of an eye.

His metal hand reached up to the handcuff, snapping it with ease and releasing his other hand. Both hands wrapped around your body as he spun the two of you around until he was on top, his waist pressing against the apex of your thighs. His cock rutting once, twice, against your clit which in turn had your hip stuttering with the overstimulation. His left hand, warm and soft, pressed down on your hip, keeping you in place, whilst his other rested against your throat, the fingers curling and pressing down on your pulse points. Not hard enough to cut off air, just hard enough for you to be incapable of ignoring their presence.

Despite the rough way he’d handled you, he followed up these actions by pressing three gentle kisses against your lips. “Always.” Another kiss. Far more demanding, teeth grazing. “Always have been.” His tongue plunged into your mouth, dancing across yours before he sucked it into his mouth. Another barely contained growl escaped him as he rutted against you more.

You just couldn’t help yourself. You’d got him to the very edge of control, and you wanted to see him lose it.

Pulling back you bit down hard on his lip, gathering what little attention he had left which wasn’t completely taken by the wet warmth cradling his cock.

“Prove it.” A demand, no, a challenge. The final stab at his control that pulled forth the beast.

Both hands moved beneath your thighs, pushing them against your chest so your pussy was completely open to him. Glistening under the few rays of sunlight that peaked into the room, as though trying to glimpse at the display of ravenous lust you were putting on. Caleb could understand why, you’d never looked so beautiful to him, spread open and soaking down your thighs, your hole twitching as though begging to be filled.

His poor baby. You didn’t need to beg anymore.

With ease he placed his dick against your hole, slipping in with barely any force because of how slick you were.

Home. That’s what your pussy felt like to him.

The both of you groaned out, a cacophony of moans that he could listen to for days on end without ever growing sick of the tune.

“I’ll prove it to you, pretty girl.” His voice was rough and hoarse as it fell from his lips, though he wasn’t sure anymore if it was from being tired, or because of all the moans he’d let escape. “You’ll never doubt me again, never doubt that your mine.” Each word was followed with a deep thrust, his cock reaching places you never knew existed until he’d explored them.

He fell on top of you, surrounding you. You couldn’t see anything but him. Feel anything but him. Hear, smell, taste anything but him.

His thrusts turned harder, quicker, every stab of his cock a lightning bolt to your senses.

You lost yourself, mouth opening with silent cries as your eyes stared unfocused on his face. Any time you closed them, he’d respond with a harsher, sharper, thrust of his hips. Even without words, he was in complete control of you.

“You need this, need me,” he told you in between grunts. You could only nod. Too drunk on the pleasure to tell him that he needed you too. He knew. He knew he needed you more, that’s why he was never going to let you go. “You need to cum all over this cock, need to make a mess, give it to me, pretty girl.”

Your legs were pressed so deep into your chest you weren’t sure if you were breathing, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was his thick cock dragging in and out of your pussy. Pulling pleasure from you with each thrust.

“Give it to me, and I’ll give you my cum.” He promised, and oh, your pussy clenched tightly around him, liking the sound of that far too much. An almost sinister laugh came from your boyfriend as he felt it too. “Oh,” he hummed, apparently just as surprised as you were by that reaction. His thrusts slowed, but they seemed to turn longer, somehow going deeper than ever before. “You want my cum baby? Want me to fill you up until your overflowing with my seed?”

When you moaned in response, he knew he had his answer.

“Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to give you all my cummies? Fill you up? Give you my babies?” Another clench had him slamming down into you. “Want that too pretty girl. Want to see you full of me, knowing you’re filled with me, knowing everything who sees you will know what I did to your dirty little pussy.”

“Fuck.” Both hands wrapped around your thighs tightened to the point of bruising, but that was exactly what he wanted, to mark you in every possible way. And he could, because he was in control. “Fucking take it, pretty girl. Fuck, good girl. Good fucking girl.”

His words were drowned out by each slam of his hips against yours. You knew you’d be hurting later but you were past the point of caring, you wanted every single thing he’d just promised you.

Through heaving breaths, you managed to squeak out a hoarse ‘please’ and that was his undoing. His thrusts stuttered until he pressed as far into you as possible and then you felt your insides being flooded.

It almost felt unreal, there was so much. You felt every corner of your insides being covered and then the knot inside you released with him, your pussy tightening almost instinctively around him, trying to keep his essence inside of you.

“Good girl,” he continued to praise, throwing out little phrases of admiration as you both rode out your orgasms.

Then, when the final wave crested and fled, he released your legs from his hold. His hands stayed steady, controlling how they fell around him, making sure you didn’t move too quickly just in case. His fingers caressed your soft skin, massaging at your thighs where most of the strain had been.

He moved so most of his weight wasn’t on you but he was still hovering over you. Pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, he left his lips to rest there as he mumbled out an almost reverent, “thank you.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! I’ve been thinking about doing a part two where Caleb gets revenge and handcuffs the reader, let me know if you’d be interested.

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lads #caleb x mc #caleb smut #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb x y/n #lads caleb #lads sylus #lads

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yandere-daze · 5 months ago

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I promised I would do it and now that I've finished reading Death Note, here are some of my thought on Yandere Light ^^

While writing this, it moreso turned into a scenario told in bulletpoints rather than headcanons. I hope you have fun reading! I'm more than happy to talk about it or answer any questions you might have after reading!

gn reader

2.6k words

cw yandere, manipulation, isolation, stalking but not exactly by Light himself?, kidnapping (mentioned)

Yandere! Light Yagami Headcanons / Scenario

I believe Light would be a very fascinating case of a yandere as he would both be very intense and controlling while still keeping that side of himself very well hidden from you and the general public. You wouldn't notice anything off about him until it is already too late (if you would ever notice it at all)

When Light first fell in love with you it came as a complete surprise to him. Never in his life has he ever loved anyone before so these strange warm feelings he got whenever he looked at you caught him off-guard and made him feel a bit uneasy.

He was obviously intelligent enough to quickly figure out just what exactly these feelings meant and at first, he wasn't very pleased with these new circumstances. To him, romance was simply a distraction from his greater goals for the world, an unnecessary nuisance, and something that was quite frankly beneath him.

He convinced himself that he had no time or real desire for a relationship so for the next few days and even weeks, he tried his best to suppress these pesky feelings he has developed for you. He tried to keep his distance from you and if you were somehow forced to interact he would do the bare minimum of keeping up appearances. Polite smiles and meaningless small talk were all you were getting from him. Everything was perfectly normal.

At first, Light had thought that staying away from you like this was a smart idea. Feelings were supposed to fade away into nothingness if you never interacted with your object of affection and he was counting on that. If he only let go of this silly delusion of a loving relationship with you, everything would go back to normal soon enough.

But quickly Light found that his approach was starting to backfire pretty spectacularly. The more he forced himself to stay away from you, the more he found himself lying awake at night, his thoughts drifting off to images of you smiling at him or laying down right beside him as he wrapped his arms around you. Instead of regaining focus, he was getting even more easily distracted than before, his mind constantly wandering.

Staying away, watching you talk to and laugh with other people was slowly starting to drive him insane and so he decided that he would need to change tactics. If his love for you wasn't dwindling then he must do everything in his power to grow closer to you and finally satisfy his longing for you.

After his initial denial phase, Light would slowly worm his way into your daily life without you even noticing. Every time you saw each other somewhere, he would greet you with a charming smile and start a short conversation with you, hoping to build some rapport between the two of you. He would offer to carry your bags for you, insisting it wasn't a big deal, or invite you for a tutoring session if you were both still students. Light was at the top of his class, the brightest boy in the entire school. What reason could you possibly have to refuse?

At first, you would meet at a public place like a library or a cafe to meet up. Spending one-on-one time with you like this, even if you were only studying was strangely exhilarating for Light. Sitting across from you and watching your face scrunch up in confusion whenever you got stuck on a subject or the way your expression would brighten up with understanding after he explained a particularly difficult problem to you... These were moments he would find himself looking forward to every single time.

Slowly over time, the frequency of these study sessions would increase under the guise of needing to properly prepare for upcoming tests or exams. The location, too, would change once Light suggests studying at his home where you wouldn't be disturbed by anyone else.

Sometimes he would even pick you up at home and smirk internally whenever he heard your parents comment about what a nice, handsome young man he was. He didn't miss the way they would nudge you toward him while shooting you a knowing look and waving you off.

Of course, to grow even closer to you, he would integrate himself into your friend group. Though he didn't care for any of your friends in the slightest, it was very easy for him to connect with them due to his popularity and good looks. He was good at pretending to care for these fools if it meant he could spend even more time with you.

Naturally, he would also use his connections with your friends to learn more things about you that he could then purposefully include in a conversation during your study sessions. Light made sure to study up on any of your interests whether it was a certain band, movie, book, or anything else, just to be able to impress you with his knowledge on the matter. It was truly remarkable how many things you had in common, wasn't it?

Slowly but surely, Light became a constant presence in your life when you had been mere acquaintances a few months ago. Light picks you up in the morning, he's a permanent member of your friend group, he sits beside you in class, he invites you over to his house three times a week now to study ( though your study sessions have evolved into regular hangouts now instead of really getting any coursework done) and he's a constant conversation topic at home. ("And you two really aren't dating? What a shame, Light is such a sweet boy. I'm sure he would treat you right.")

In such a short amount of time, Light has clawed his way into your life and yet he's still not satisfied. He won't be content until he finally has you all for himself, until you're finally in his arms. And once he has you, he won't ever let go.

After growing closer to you as a friend, Light would quickly work on isolating you and becoming the sole person you rely on. These so-called friends of yours are all imbeciles, people unworthy of being in your presence.

At this point, I might as well mention that I think Yandere Light would rever and idolize you to a point but he would still want to be the one in control ultimately. You are pure of heart, someone who should be protected, and are so far above the ignorant masses. They don't deserve you. Only a god like him is worthy of owning you and he really wishes you would realize this soon. He knows what is best for you.

I actually think he wouldn't use the Death Note to isolate you and get rid of any obstacles in his path to claiming you as his, at least not yet. Early on in the story of Death Note, while the world is still largely against Kira and he is actively being investigated by the police and L, Light can't risk getting his hands dirty for something trivial like this, no matter how much he would love an efficient way to rid himself of these friends of yours, let alone the people he deems an active threat to your future relationship.

No matter how much he might yearn for you, he can't risk his greater mission of ridding the world of all criminals.

So, Light will take the subtle manipulation route. Manipulation is something he is very good at and he will not hesitate to guide your thoughts and feelings in a direction that benefits him.

He acts as a concerned friend when he tells you about the things he heard about fellow classmates. Did you know that one of your friends used to be a member of a gang? He heard that they were slipping into old habits and getting in trouble again and so he couldn't help but feel worried about you. He doesn't like you associating with someone so dangerous. He's just looking out for you, okay?

He's even worse when it comes to people he deems a romantic rival. He never runs out of negative things to say about people you show an interest in. It angers him greatly whenever he has to listen to you swoon over someone else but he knows you're just too blind to see that he's the one for you at the moment.

But no matter, Light will make sure you don't do anything stupid like going on a date with someone else. Oh, he heard that one was a total player, they would only break your heart. Your date didn't show up at all? Oh, he's so sorry to hear that. Look why don't you make the most of this evening and spend it together instead then? They were a fool to stand you up and he's going to make sure you'll forget all about them soon enough.

Never mind the fact that he had sent your date an anonymous letter threatening them to not show up or the dark secret he had found out about them would soon be exposed to everyone.

You're none the wiser about Light's secret manipulations, simply grateful for what a nice and supportive friend you have.

But being friends with you isn't enough for Light anymore. He needs to be more than that. He's already managed to isolate you from all your other friends but you just aren't falling for him fast enough. So he hatches a plan to force you to seek him out, to make you come running into his arms.

Having waited for such a long time, Light is nearing his wit's end at the fact that you aren't his yet. So just this once, he is willing to use the Death Note to get you to fully rely on him.

Quickly, he finds the name of a petty criminal who has already been released from prison and writes an entry in his notebook.

Suddenly, you start receiving strange letters at home. Twisted declarations of love sent by an unknown sender. They claimed to have been watching you for a while, waiting for you to truly notice them and fall for them as well. They describe your daily routine in great detail, indicating that they must have been following you. They promise that you won't have to wait long, that you will soon finally be together without any obstacles in the way.

The contents of the letter make a chill go down your spine and soon enough, you don't feel safe in your own home anymore. You feel watched, as if someone was just around the corner, staring at you. It was highly unnerving and soon, you would tell your best (and at this point only) friend Light about the creepy letters you've been receiving and that you had the sinking feeling that you were being watched.

Light of course showed great concern and offered to stay at your side for the entire day. He would make sure no creep would get to you as long as he was around. And sure enough, with Light around you felt safer, as if nothing could harm you anymore. You could spend the rest of your day at ease, knowing that your friend would protect you if anything were to happen.

But as soon as Light would bid you farewell after escorting you back to your home, you would feel an unsettling chill going down your spine once more as the feeling of being watched returned. You were scared again, fearing that your stalker might climb through your window and kidnap you at any moment. You barely got any sleep in the night, practically jumping out of your skin anytime you heard a loud noise outside.

Morning couldn't come soon enough, when you would see Light again and this nightmare would stop, at least until you would once more return home.

Soon enough, your mind would start associating Light's presence with the feeling of being safe and his absence with intense fear and discomfort. Parting from him would grow more difficult every single day and he was counting on that.

The same routine would continue for a few days until one day, you couldn't take it anymore. As Light moves to say goodbye to you once more in front of your house you yell in protest and hold on to his arm, making him stop in his tracks.

You explain to him that you just don't feel safe anymore at home and that his presence is the only thing that can put you at ease. You tell him that only he makes you feel safe anymore and by the end of it, you're practically pleading with him to not go, to not leave you alone. You can't handle another night being alone, without him. You needed him by his side.

It was everything Light could have hoped for and the knowledge that this was his doing fills him with smug satisfaction that he masks with a genuine smile. He's quick to agree to your request and offers you to spend the night at his home instead. You could stay in his room even and maybe you would feel more at ease, knowing that he is there with you.

Of course, you agree and true enough, sleeping in his room was the most peaceful night you had in a while. With him next to you, you could feel like you could finally relax.

"I'm here for you. Don't worry, nothing will happen to you as long as I'm here."

From then on, your life became even more impossibly intertwined with Light's. Instead of just spending the entire day with him, you would now wake up next to him, eat breakfast in his home, walk to and from school alongside him, and fall asleep curled up next to him. And you felt happy like this.

The next time your parents would ask you about your relationship with Light, you would answer that he made you feel like no one else ever has and they would congratulate you, all while saying that they always knew you two would start dating one day.

And Light? He couldn't be happier that his plan worked out. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder but forced proximity under the stress of possible death works just as fine in his opinion.

A few days later, a petty criminal would be found dead outside your old home, in their hand another twisted love letter addressed to you, clear evidence of their crime.

" My love, the wait is finally over. Finally, I get to hold you in my arms as I have always longed to. Finally, you're all mine, forever and always."

It was quickly deduced that this person must have been the one stalking you for the past few days. You were relieved that it was finally all over, that you no longer had to fear for your life. But at the same time, you were glad that it had happened for otherwise, you might have never come to realize just how much you loved Light, the person who had been your best friend for the longest time and always stood by your side when things got difficult. When others would leave you, you knew that Light would always stay.

Being led away from the crime scene by your boyfriend, walking hand-in-hand, you can't help but wonder if maybe someone else had been watching over you all this time as well. You take a last glance at the motionless body lying in front of your door, then turn back around to whisper a silent thank you towards the heavens.

Your stalker's cause of death? Why, a heart attack of course.

#death note #light yagami #light yagami x reader #death note x reader #light x reader #yandere death note #yandere light yagami #male yandere #yandere light yagami x reader #x reader #yandere #gn reader #cw yandere #cw isolation #cw manipulation #yandere x reader

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coldfanbou · 7 months ago

Text

Kinkcember Day 8: Mommy

Mommy Sakura, I think she's a bit too hungry. Anyway, enjoy!

Length: 2.2K

Sakura X Mreader

You sweat as you carry the last box from your car to your apartment, your muscles aching after over an hour of moving boxes up from the ground floor. Reaching your floor for the last time, you jiggle the door open and step in. You stretch your arms up to the sky after setting the last box down. You look around your new apartment, finally on your own. You consider where to start unpacking when there’s a knock on your door. You turn around to see a beautiful woman standing in your doorway. She gives you a small wave and stretches her arm out, offering you a water bottle, “Welcome to the neighborhood; I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Sakura; I live right next door, actually.”

You take the water, “It’s nice to meet you, Sakura.” You take a swig of water, “I’ll try not to bother you; I’ll be up late at night pretty often.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“I’m a student at the nearby college; I’ll be studying a lot and busy with a lot of other things.”

“Ohh, a college student,” Sakura repeats, a grin forming. “I’ve heard that you guys get busy; maybe I’ll come by and help you…like a mom away from home,” She says with a laugh.

“Mmm,” you hum, “Yeah, well, if I ever need anything, I’ll come to you.”

“Alright, I’ll see you around,” Sakura says, leaving you alone in your apartment. You take another sip of water before beginning the unpacking process. You work around the clock putting away clothes and arranging your space when it becomes evening. There was another knock on the door, and you head over. Checking through the peephole, you see Sakura holding a covered plate. She reaches up, ready to knock again when you open the door. “Hi again; I thought I'd bring you over some food. You haven’t eaten yet, right?” Sakura pushes the plate forward; I made a little too much and thought you’d like some. It’s curry.”

“Oh, thanks, Sakura. I was getting kind of hungry. Would you like to come inside?”

“I’d love to.” Sakura hands you the plate and steps inside your home, looking around to see how you’ve decorated it.

“It’s not much yet, but it’ll get there in time, " you say, grabbing a spoon from the kitchen before sitting in the living room. You uncover the curry; it's still warm, with condensation covering the foil she used to cover it. You take a spoonful and start eating as Sakura sits beside you.

“It’s nice, though; I’m sure your girlfriend will like it. Or she can decorate a little.”

“Ah, well, that’s a nice thought but…I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sakura feigns shock, “Uhm, I’m sorry. I just assumed that you would. I mean, you’re cute, so I just thought.” Sakura stumbles through her words. Internally, though, she’s praising God; it would make things so much easier for her.

You wave her off, “It’s okay, maybe someday I’ll get one,” you say in jest. You take another bite of the food, “You make a really good curry, though,” you say, awkwardly changing the subject.

Sakura smiles, “I can cook for you sometimes.” She pats her lap, excited at the prospect of getting closer to you, “I don’t really have anyone around either, so it wouldn’t be a problem. It could be here or at my place.” The two of you continue talking as you eat; while you’re speaking, Sakura's thoughts become less than pure. She manages to hold herself together as your conversation reaches its natural end and you finish eating. “It was nice talking; I’ll see you soon.” She says, taking the plate from you just as you finish. “I’ll be going now,” She bows and leaves the apartment quickly. You’re left a little confused because of how quickly she decided to leave, but you put it in the back of your mind as you get ready to shower and then sleep.

In her home, Sakura rushes to her bedroom and throws herself onto her bed. She slips her fingers underneath her jeans and moves her fingers around her clit, moaning as she imagines what you must be like in bed. Sakura just loved younger men, and you were the perfect fit for her. She imagined your hands on her body, groping her, and it drove her crazy.

Over the next few weeks, as your classes began and you found yourself busier and busier with work, Sakura wormed her way into your routine, bringing you food, doing your laundry, and occasionally cleaning up around your apartment. Sakura even began referring to herself as your mommy, teasing you as she did all the work around your apartment. She did it to help you, but she was also getting something out of it. She would smell your clothing before washing it, your scent fueling her desires. She thought to herself about how to bring up the topic of taking things further. You appreciate her help and buy her a small gift as a thank you. You wrap it nicely and hold onto it until Sakura comes by again.

Sakura came by the next day; she greeted you warmly and put on an apron as she prepared to cook you something. “Hey, Sakura. I got you something to say thanks.”

“Huh? You didn’t have to. I just wanted to help you. You’ve been so busy with college that I thought an older woman like me should help you.” Sakura protests, waving her hands.

“It’s something small. Here,” you place a small box on the counter.

“You really didn’t have to.” At that moment, the idea popped into Sakura’s head; this was her opportunity to push things further. She unties her apron, placing it on the counter next to your gift. “There’s actually something else I’d like.”

“What is it?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone. So…I’d like it if you’d…” Sakura considered what word to use, one that was more reserved or one that she felt best described her desires. “I want you to fuck me,” She says plainly. Sakura inches closer to you, grabbing your hands and placing them around her waist before wrapping her arms around your neck. “I’ve played the role of your mommy by helping you around here. Now I’d like you to return the favor and help mommy cum.” Sakura said in a low, sultry voice, unlike any you’ve ever heard from her. “Please?” She asks, tilting her head to the side.

You had to admit that you hadn’t expected this sort of situation, but you didn’t mind getting this kind of attention from Sakura. She was a beautiful woman, after all. “Alright, if that’s all you want.”

Sakura smiles, “It is; Mommy will show you how good she can take it.” You move your hands down to Sakura’s thighs and lift her, taking her to your bedroom. You toss her on the bed, and she quickly strips off her clothing, her craving for you hitting an all-time high now that she is so close to getting you. You strip off your clothing and crawl over Sakura, who quickly rolls you onto your back.

Sakura straddles you, rubbing your cock against her wet slit. “Mmm, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.” She leans over, kissing your cheek. “Now, fuck mommy as hard as you can. Make me cum, and don’t stop until I say so.” She aligns your cock with her entrance and pushes you inside. Sakura groans as she feels you stretch her cunt. “Oh, you’re so big,” she grunts, adjusting herself. She places her hands on your thighs and leans back as she begins to move. Your cock slides in and out of her with ease. You enjoy the feeling of her walls clamping down on your cock for a moment, letting Sakura do all the work before grabbing onto her waist. You slam yourself into the deepest part of her cunt, knocking against her womb. “That’s it, baby, fuck mommy,” She moans, feeling you deep inside her. You hold her as you begin thrusting, ramming yourself inside her tight cunt. Sakura leans back, her moans filling the room, and she smiles with pure glee. She was happy to have you finally; she focused on the feeling of your cock stirring her inside. The pleasure was making her lose her mind. You had just started, but you were already pushing her to her climax.

Sakura’s walls only got tighter as you went on. You wanted more of her. Rolling her onto her back, you push her legs to her ears and drive your cock deeper into her. Sakura groans, her toes curl as she reaches her climax. Her walls clamp down on your cock, and she cums. Her nectar splashes onto her stomach and chest as you continue to thrust. “Baby, keep going!” She cries out, gripping the bedsheets so hard her knuckles are turning white. You steal a kiss from Sakura as you continue to ruin her, driving her crazy as the pleasure continues to crash over her. She can feel herself slipping away as your cock reshapes her cunt. You sucked on Sakura’s tongue after she stuck out unconsciously. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as you pushed her to another orgasm. Her cries of pleasure flowed endlessly as you pounded away at her body.

“I’m cumming, mommy.” You grunt, struggling to keep your pace now that your body is on edge.

“Inside!” Sakura shouts, her arms reaching out as she tries to hold you. You bury yourself inside Sakura, flooding her pussy with your cum. A euphoric smile is plastered on her face as your warm cum invades her body, heating her from the inside. You gain your bearings and drag your cock out Sakura, letting her legs fall down. Cum leaks out of her as she remains on the bed.

She slowly rolls onto her back and raises her ass into the air. “Keep going, baby; I want more. Please fuck your dirty mommy more,” Semen drips from her cunt as Sakura presses her face against a pillow, waiting for you to take her again.

You grasp your cock and press it against her entrance. You slip in easily, returning to her snug cunt. You grip her ass, the soft cheeks melting into your hands as you bury yourself inside her. Sakura moaned into the pillow as she felt your cock fill her again. She was thanking God she met you with every thrust. You enjoyed the sight, watching Sakura's ass bounce on your cock. You reach back and slap the jiggling meat. She yelps and begs for more. “Spank me, baby, make me yours.” She moans. You continue to punish her ass, leaving your hand imprinted on her skin as you drive her further into the mattress. You push her face into the pillow as you angle her better. Sakura's brain stops working as she cums a third time; her body shuts down and is only held up by you as you continue driving your cock into her womb. Your climax approaches slowly, but you reach the peak once more and fill Sakura’s cunt with another load of cum. You keep yourself inside Sakura and bring her down with you, using her as a cockwarmer.

When morning comes, you find Sakura between your legs, her tongue caressing the sides of your shaft. “Good morning, baby.” She says as she pulls away, her hand strokes your cock gently, “I thought it would be nice to wake up to mommy give you a nice blowjob. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds good,” you coo as she rubs the tip with her thumb.

“Great, let me finish.” Sakura presses her soft lips on the tip and slowly pushes you in. Her tongue swirls around the tip before running along the underside as she bobs her head. She moans softly, your musk flooding her nose and making her hungry for more. She allowed you into her throat, relaxing her muscles around you as she reached your pelvis. Sakura pulls back slowly, letting you enjoy the pleasure. She strokes your shaft as she focuses on the head, running her tongue around the head. “You can cum whenever your want, baby. Mommy will drink it all.” Sakura was sure of that. She wouldn’t waste a drop. She latched onto your cock, working her tongue all over it until you came into her mouth. As soon as the first drop hit her tongue, she was in love. She swallowed every drop, drinking your cum as it came.

Once you were done, she popped you out of her mouth and let you look inside. Her mouth was empty, and she was proud of it. Sakura kept her hand on your cock, stroking it gently. “Listen, baby, while you’re here for college, I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning. You don’t have to pay me; all you have to do is fuck me like you did last night. It’s all I want. Mommy will be here for you to use whenever you want, too.”

“You have a deal, mommy.” You groan as she jerks you off. “And I want you right now,” Sakura smirked, happy you’re taking advantage of the last part already.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #le sserafim smut #sakura smut

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mssorceressupreme · 6 months ago

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Moth to a Flame | F.W

———

Pairing: Weasley twins x reader

Summary: You’re two-timing the Weasley twins, and it all goes well. Until one day, they decide you need to be punished for this.

Warnings: 16+ minors DNI, smut, fingering, blowjob, masturbation, orgasm, praise kink, dom male, switch female, hickeys, kissing, two-timing

A/N: ik Hogwarts doesn’t have any phones but let’s just assume they do here lol also I was kinda inspired by the song Moth to a Flame by the Weeknd so yeah 😅 PLZ excuse the smut I don’t write too much smut so not that experienced with it

———

The morning light streamed softly through the curtains, casting golden rays over George’s peaceful face. His ginger hair was tousled, his expression serene, as he lay beside you in his bed.

You watched him for a moment, the rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic. He looked beautiful like this, vulnerable, calm, utterly unaware. His dorm mates were also fast asleep, you were glad that you managed to draw no attention to yourself so far.

Carefully, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, the faint glow illuminating a new message.

Fred: Can’t wait to see you later love. Study session at library after lunch? ❤️

Your breath caught, guilt settling like a stone in your chest. You glanced back at George, still sound asleep, oblivious to the chaos you were carrying. Quickly, you replied to Fred then turned off your phone.

You: Sounds perfect, see u then 🫶🏼

The twins didn’t share a dorm, thank Merlin, which made slipping between their rooms seamless. Spending the night with either was simple enough, as long as neither suspected the truth.

Slipping out of bed, you kissed George softly on the forehead, his lips twitching into a sleepy smile. Grabbing a piece of parchment, you scribbled a note:

“Went to breakfast with Hermione. See you later, handsome x”

You left the note on his nightstand before tiptoeing out of the room.

———

In the Great Hall, Hermione sat waiting, her arms crossed and her expression laced with disapproval.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” she said the moment you slid onto the bench beside her. As she was the person you trusted the most, Hermione was the only person who knew about you two-timing the twins. Well, it started off as an innocent mistake but who knew this knot would get so messy.

You groaned, helping yourself to some toast. “Don’t start, ‘Mione.”

“You’ve got to tell them. This…whatever this is…it’s cruel. You can’t keep dating them both.” She whisper-yelled, leaning closer to you, and making this conversation was as quiet as it could be.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen!” You counter, glancing around to ensure no one overheard. “I…I didn’t know how to say no to either of them, and now, I love them both. I couldn’t just reject one of them, they’re my best friends!”

Hermione raised a skeptical brow, “You can’t keep this up. It’s going to blow up in your face.” "But the thing is, I told the each of them I wanted a private relationship, to keep it solely between me and each twin, and they agreed, so I'm certain the twins don't know I'm two-timing them." Hermione stared blankly, "And what happens if there's an event that you need to attend as their "girlfriend" and they both need you, what then? A duplicating spell?"

You exhaled, taking a large bite of your toast.

“Look, I’m worried about you Y/N. It won’t just hurt them, but yourself too. This could take a toll on your metal health, keeping up with two relationships sounds exhausting.” She placed a hand on your back.

“I’ll tell one of them,” you mumbled, biting your lip. “Eventually…when the time is right.”

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “The ‘right time’ doesn’t exist for this. The longer you wait, you’ll only dig yourself deeper.”

You nodded slowly, concurring. She gave you a soft smile, “But honestly, you do look good with both of them. You’ll make a fine couple with whoever you end up with.” She giggled, before the both of you continued eating then changing the subject.

———

Later that afternoon, you found yourself tucked away in a quiet corner of the library with Fred. Books lay open between you, though neither of you had made much progress. His hand rested on your knee under the table, his warm touch making your mind foggy and filled with inappropriate thoughts, too inappropriate to be having this early in the day.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "You’re awfully distracted today, love." He began planting peppered kisses on your neck, sucking on a particular sensitive spot you had, you bit your lip holding back a moan.

"Just tired, I guess." You managed to croak out, once he stopped and picked up his quill to continue studying.

Fred’s eyes then searched yours, and he tilted his head. "Where were you this morning? I stopped by your dorm, but you weren’t there."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Oh, I woke up early," you lied, keeping your voice steady. "Thought I’d get a head start on studying."

Fred frowned slightly, but before he could press further, George appeared. He dropped into the seat across from you, flashing his lopsided grin.

"Fancy seeing you two here," he said, his eyes lingering on you just a moment too long before unpacking his notes. "Couldn't find a spot in the library for ages, it’s like everybody's suddenly interested in studying today."

Your stomach twisted into knots. Sitting between them felt like balancing on the edge of a knife, the tension suffocating. It never felt this way before, but now that you were essentially dating both of them, you constantly felt wary.

"Yeah we're lucky we even managed to find a table." Fred replied, before the twins carried on studying. As you were reading your textbook, Fred placed his hand on your thigh again, inching his hand further up your thigh with each paragraph you read. The words were becoming blurry, none of the text registering, you mentally cursed, knowing you'd have to revisit these pages again. Your breathing became heavier as he stopped at your entrance. Wearing a skirt granted him easy access to your undies; he teased your folds over your undergarment, slowly stroking with two fingers. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, desperate for him to just plunge inside you. You glanced at George, who appeared to be immersed in taking notes, looking back and forth between his parchment and the Potions textbook. You then turned to Fred, who, to your surprise, was poker-faced, reading through some study notes. Fred smirked to himself, his fingers making their way through your undies and coming into contact with your folds. You inhaled sharply, looking at him but he carried on reading. He rubbed circles around your clit, your eyes fluttered, back arching involuntarily, but you played it off as stretching. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into you, pumping slowly and then picking up the pace gradually.

You grabbed his thigh for support, squeezing it slightly. It took everything in your power to not moan, especially because George was sitting opposite you, and the library was quiet. Did I mention quiet?! Dead silent. "Yes!" You thought aloud then hummed, you needed to vocalise something, to let loose. You could feel yourself getting close, but you did not want to come in a library so for the sake of your dignity, so you slowly pushed Fred's hand away. Fred stopped, turning to face you, so did George. "Finally understand this paragraph!" You toned it down, laughing slightly to play it off. A few moments later George's leg started brushing against yours, stroking your leg with his from under the table. Again, you felt yourself melting at his touch, wanting more. You made eye contact with him and bit your lip, but shook your head forcing yourself to stop. Thank Merlin this table was huge, you could barely see what was happening underneath, making it easy to camouflage your actions. You froze when you came into sudden contact with both of them at the same time. Fred's hand back on your thigh, and George's leg interlocking with yours.

Taking on one of them was easy, especially with the other distracted. However, both at the same time? You can bid yourself farewell. You stammered something about needing to check a book and practically fled the table, leaving Fred and George behind. “Um yeah, I’ll catch you guys later!…” you mumbled before scurrying out the library. Not once turning around to look at them, you mentally slapped yourself for being so hasty. ———

You found Hermione and Ginny in the courtyard, their chatter a welcome distraction. Ginny was practically bouncing with excitement as she shared news of a party in the Ravenclaw common room that evening.

"You’re coming, right? Luna said she'd love to have us there." Ginny asked, nudging you playfully.

You hesitated, then nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

You needed a distraction. And this was definitely it.

———

The party was everything you needed, loud, lively, and carefree. Harry, Ron, Neville, and a bunch of students from every house were there too. Music pulsed through the room, and laughter echoed over the clinking of butterbeer bottles. You found yourself relaxing as you chatted with Luna, Cho, Hermione, and Ginny, letting the chaos around you drown out your worries.

Until you received a note.

"Meet me in the 7th year study room upstairs – your fav Weasley ;)"

You laughed softly, folding the parchment. Of course, it had to be Fred. Or was it George? The handwriting wasn’t distinct enough to tell.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the Ravenclaw study room for 7th years, as the twins were 7th years you supposed they were allowed in those study rooms. The door creaked as you pushed it open, and your heart skipped a beat when you stepped inside.

Your eyes went wide, you momentarily froze, eyes darting back and forth from the two figures seated in front of you.

Both Fred and George were there. George was seated casually on the edge of the table with his arms folded, and Fred leaned back on one of the couches, manspreading. Their identical grins stretched wide, their eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Y/N," George drawled, standing and walking toward you. "We’ve been waiting for you."

Panic set in as the pieces clicked. "I uh-... I should go," you stammered, turning to leave, but George was quicker, his hand catching your wrist.

"Not so fast," he murmured, his voice low.

"You’ve been naughty," Fred added, standing now, his gaze fixed on you.

Your stomach churned. "What are you talking about?"

Fred chuckled, stepping closer. "Don’t play coy, love. Two-timing us? Did you really think we wouldn’t figure it out?"

They both now towered over you, George shut the door behind you and you gulped, your only opportunity to exit, gone.

"I..." Words failed you as Fred cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin.

"You’ve got us all tangled up, Y/N," George said, his voice softer now as he moved to stand beside his twin.

Your knees felt weak as George leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple.

"We should be angry," Fred whispered, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"But we’re not," George finished.

They both smiled, their warmth almost overwhelming.

"Because we love you," Fred said.

"And we’ll share, if that’s what it takes to keep you," George added.

Before you could respond, Fred’s lips captured yours in a heated kiss, George’s hand resting gently on your waist.

Your heart raced as their affection enveloped you, leaving you breathless and utterly lost between them.

“But we’re not going to let you off that easily…” George spoke.

Fred pulled away from the kiss, which left you slightly disappointed, “…You need to be punished.” He finished George’s sentence.

“What? How? Please—guys, this isn’t necessary. I was going to come clean I swear-” You pleaded but George interjected,

“Relax, we’re not going to hurt you love. Just, follow our lead.” George found you amusing, all flustered, like a prey about to get eaten by its predator.

George walked behind you, while Fred stood in front, pressing his body against yours.

Your core began to heat up, feeling a rush of adrenaline as the two boys were mere inches away from you.

George began kissing your neck, sucking on your sensitive spot but with extra pressure, leaving love bites. “Mhm, George…” you moan, tilting your head back as you grab hold of his neck behind you.

Fred massaged your breasts sensually, his hands roaming every inch of you then slid down your body, slowly making his way to your core.

“Wearing a short skirt to the party tonight eh? Who are you trying to look good for hm?” Fred teased, as he began massaging your throbbing core. You felt yourself getting wetter by the second, craving more of both their touch.

You were too lost in pleasure to respond, head thrown back while George continued kissing your neck, making his way up to your jaw.

“Answer me.” Fred demanded, before forcefully shoving two fingers inside your entrance which earned a unholy groan from you.

“You-...both of you.” Your breathy responses and subtle twitching resulted in a satisfied hum from Fred, he continued pumping his fingers in you, which were now coated because of how wet you were.

“Don’t stop Fred, please.” You moaned, as he picked up the pace, pumping faster.

You could feel yourself getting closer, your climax mere seconds away.

“You feel so good around my fingers, so tight for me love.”

“Fred…” you hummed, moaning again. “I’m getting close, please, I’m so close.”

Eager to make you come, he continued pumping, “That’s it come for me. Come around my finger.” Fred cooing into your ear was your tipping point, sending you over the edge and finally you were done. Your walls clenched with arousal as you reached your climax, a cloud of ecstasy and pleasure washed over you as you groaned.

Fred removed his fingers from you and George stopped, both of them now moving to stand in front of you. You felt all to powerful, the two twins at your mercy now.

The twins looked at you, smirking. As though you read their mind, you spoke, “Alright alright, now it’s your turn I suppose.” Your shirt was tight and revealed your cleavage, you smirked to yourself as you bent down, exposing more of your breasts to them.

You saw George shift slightly, adjusting his pants. “You, sit.” You pointed to George. “…And you, watch.” You addressed Fred.

George sat on the couch, and you knelt in front of him, unbuckling his pants, exposing his length, which was now fully hard and dripping with pre-cum.

Fred leaned against the table, stroking himself to the sight in front of him.

You planted kitten licks on his tip, which earned a low groan from him. Slowly, you slid your tongue down from his tip to his base, doing so a few times to tease him.

“Merlin, Y/N…” George threw his head back, breathing heavily.

You then took him, slowly bopping your head up and down his length, you glanced at Fred who was busy pleasuring himself, and made eye contact with him as you sucked George off.

Fred groaned at your eye contact, “Bloody hell Y/N when you look at me like that…” You swear you could hear him mutter your name under his breath a few times while he continued pumping his length but you brushed it off.

Satisfied, you hummed looking back at George, gazing up at him, his eyes were half-lidded, lost in pleasure but he managed to gaze down at you, while he guided your head.

“Faster…” you bopped your head faster. Your neck was hurting slightly from how fast and hard his dick was hitting the back of your throat but at the same time, it felt too good to stop. You wanted to be the reason he was moaning under your touch.

“Fuck you feel so good, your mouth looks so pretty around me.” George moaned, and you felt a rush down to tour core, being praised like this gave you all the more motivation to continue.

You began sucking harder and faster, and George bucked his hips, “Shit I’m getting close, I’m gonna-…”

George let out a loud moan, “Fuck.” He grunted, releasing down your throat. You swallowed the warm liquid and he gently wiped your mouth while you looked at him.

Fred finished seconds later, “Bloody hell…” he muttered.

You sat down, collapsing on the floor, underestimating how much energy this would take from you.

Fred smiled warmly, walking over to you and picking you up bridal style, “Is my Y/N tired?”

He gently placed you on the couch next to George, then brushed out a few strands of hair from your face.

“Let us take care of you now. We’ll take you up to your room yeah?” George hummed softly before placing a kiss on your forehead.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #george weasly x reader #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #fred weasley imagine #harry potter #hogwarts fanfiction #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #fred x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley family #imagine #x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #x you #smut

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whowrotethenote · 2 months ago

Text

𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈: After a drunk round of Truth or Dare goes wrong, Nani is challenged into getting her first tattoo. The artist in question—an unmoved, cryptic, fine ass stranger. Can she take the pain? Can she take the heat? Can she take him?

𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶: Roman Reigns (Roman) x Black Fem OC (Nani)

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: Profanity // Slight grieving // Age gap // Smut // Depictions/descriptions of tattooing

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 7.5k

Disclaimer // Roman Reigns Masterlist // Join My Taglist // Main Masterlist // Navigation

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ masochism — a sexual or psychological tendency where individuals derive pleasure from being subjected to pain, suffering or humiliation

“We gotta do a wrap around the block! We can’t park here!” Mercedes yelled to her best friend from the driver’s seat of her 2020 Jeep Wrangler. One finger pointed to the street sign that explained, no parking on weekends from eleven p.m. to two a.m.

Nani stood on the sidewalk by her lonesome, following the path to where her friend’s finger was trained. They were right smack in the middle of the no parking zone. At twelve twenty a.m, the burnt tangerine colored streetlight cascaded over the entirety of the otherwise dark block—the humidity that only a mid-June night can usher in casting a glow of almost sweat on their skin.

The air smelled of city fumes and that earthy smell after a mini rain shower. Evidence of such still on the pavement of the sidewalk and the street. Mercedes’s car decorated in tiny droplets of water with wet tires.

“Just go in! We’ll be right there!” Samantha aided in the passenger seat.

“We don’t even know if they take walk-ins!” Something of a pout adorned Nani’s square face. She stood on the side walk, separated from them—wishing either had a heart and would just tell her, “never mind, just hop back in.”

But she knew in her heart that wasn’t happening. No way in hell did they all jump up from Sam’s room, threw on clothes and drove twenty minutes—risking a DUI amongst other things—just for them to change their minds. She knew better than that. Always the closest thing to innocent amongst them—they chose the perfect dare for the perfect girl to shake shit up.

“Sure we do! I know one of the artist! He does walk-ins all the time!” Samantha answered hanging out the window with both forearms resting on the side of the car. Her sand-colored face burned with a red hue from all the shots the trio took throughout the night. That tipsy smirk with lazy eyes just barely hanging on.

That was another reason Nani knew that what she was about to do was a grave mistake. Not one of them was sober enough to make such a permanent, stoned decision. But still, here they were, in the middle of the night, in front of Dragon’s Lair Tattoo & Piercing shop. The only building, with the exception of the smoke shop at the other corner, still lit up to invite patrons. The red neon sign glowing over the back of Nani’s small frame.

It was supposed to be harmless fun. The night started off perfect.

All three girls watched each other blossom on the same block since they were missing teeth and waiting for the adult ones to sprout back in. Side by side through all the major milestones—sweet sixteens, prom, losing their virginities, breakups, heartache, graduation, fall outs, family trauma and everything in between. If you saw one, the other two were on their way. And if you saw two, the other one wasn’t too far behind.

What started as a fiesta—a ceremony to commemorate completing junior year without a scratch, a baby, or an std—took a sharp left turn. Sharing war stories under the purple LED lights of Sam’s bohemian style room, turned into Drunk Uno, making TikToks to whatever sounds they could find, until the roulette of their first night together landed on Truth or Dare.

Nani had racked up on too many jaw dropping truths. The liquor kicked in and carried her impulse. She chose the dare. And the next words that fell from Sam’s glossy lips had her thinking somebody slipped something into her red cup.

“I dare you…to get a tattoo…tonight!”

It seemed as if with every word, they got slower and deeper—like the sound of a chopped and screwed song.

“He did Cedes tattoo last summer before y’all left for school, remember?” Sam asked.

Mercedes leaned over and stretched her left arm where a red dragon saturated the caramel skin of her inner wrist. Nani didn’t need an exhibition. She had seen the tattoo a thousand times before. Merecedes last fuck you to her unrealistically religious and problematic mother, before packing it up and hauling back down to Florida A&M for fall semester.

While Mercedes voyaged down south, Sam stayed home in Philly opting for community college, all while Nani explored UCLA on the west-coast. All three girls connected by an invisible thread, separated for two whole semesters for three years now, and were home again for the summer and clearly losing their heads from the excitement of reuniting.

This is not how any of them forecasted ending the night, especially Nani— but here they were. If unpredictable was a parasite, it’d be attached to the three of them. Always in the most unlikely situations just to laugh about such for the years that follow. This night was no different.

Nani whined and stomped one foot on the pavement. “Come on, y’all! This is just cruel!”

Sam smiled wide like a Cheshire Cat, glancing back at Mercedes. “Girl, you’re the one that’s been talking about wanting a tattoo anyway! Just go and get situated at least! We’ll be right there!” The oversized tires swoosh on the wet ground as she puts the car in drive. Sam waved dainty fingers as they took off and violently turned right at the stop sign.

The dead silence of the night creeping in as she no longer even heard the roar of her friend’s engine. She turned in place, neck craned up as the red glow blinked and welcomed her in like she stood amongst the devil’s playpen.

“Don’t be pussy,” she mumbled to herself before blowing out all the air in her chest.

The bells above the glass door dinged as she pushed to step inside. Everything was everywhere. A thrumming hip hop beat blasted from somewhere deep within the shop, some rapper with a British accent rapping lyrics aggressively—making it hard to keep up with his words.

After twirling around like a child in a candy factory—studying the art pieces and pictures of clients— she landed on a woman dressed in all black emerging from the back. Hair darker than black if there is a such thing, with long claws for nails.

“Hey, love.” Her voice was welcoming. Smile warm reaching her eyes with creases on either side of her mouth, that all of sudden looked like they belonged there. A contradiction to her pale forearms covered in art, accentuated by the septum hook and darkest, thickest eyeliner she had ever seen on a woman. Something about her was still very feminine, sexy and alluring. Nani had to close her mouth, feeling her jaw go slack almost. “You need some help?” She asked. Nani then noticed the beefy accent that she missed before. Australian.

“Uh, yeah. I wanted to get a tattoo,” she answered. Working double time to appear normal and keeping her voice steady.

“Okay. You made an appointment?” She raised a brow walking around the glass desk. In the clear display, sparkly and lively jewelry for sale along with aftercare products.

“N-no. My friends said you do walk-ins?”

“We do.” The girl leans forward and back, trying to gauge the space. “Uh, it looks like most of our artists are busy right now. Ro!” The girl’s sudden switch in volume earned a jolt from Nani. Her nerves mimicked the audio meter of the loudest song you could think of.

“What?” She heard a deep voice from behind after a beat.

Turning she found a man. Twice the size of anyone in the shop. Skin tanned and glowing under the bright florescent lights. Arms cut and toned—demonstrating the discipline of daily weight training. A very visible vein running along his inner bicep. One arm covered in ink from his wrist until it disappeared under his black tee. His hair—damp, dark and thick, framing his face and stopping just at his shoulders.

His eyes. They whispered in spells. A deep brown like burnt honey atop high cheekbones. The bottom of his face dressed in the mustache and goatee combo—two plump, pink lips in the center of it all. A touch of feminism in the throws of his hard masculine features. They made her clit jump just imagining his tip the same shade of pink. She snatched her eyes away from him, realizing she was staring with an open mouth. Heat filling her cheeks. He was easily the most beautiful man she had ever been in the same room as.

“This is…” The girl’s eyebrows rose, expecting a name.

“—Nani,” she blurted. Her social queues completely off track. A product of the alcohol and jitters.

“Nani,” she repeated averting her gaze back to the stone cold stranger. His gaze never landing on Nani. “Walk-in. She wants to get tatted.”

“Where?” His eyes were on the dark-haired woman, but somehow Nani knew the question was for her. She hesitated, never thinking about where she wanted the damn thing. It had to be somewhere discreet. She didn’t need the attention from family members. Behind her ear? No, she couldn’t even see it. Her hip? Her wrist?

“Um… I don’t know. My rib?”

“You don’t sound sure.” The woman’s face still plastered with a smile as she leaned her elbows on the desk.

“I am sure.” She nodded.

“You heard her. Her rib.”

“Rhea it’s an hour ’til close. I don’t take walk-ins after midnight.”

Nani frowned hearing him deny her without the respect of eye contact or addressing her directly. She felt invisible. Half of her didn’t mind. She could stare at him in peace without the worry of him catching her. Like a moth to a flame she was drawn to him. She didn’t even know why. Obviously, he was beautiful. In the way that everything on him looks like it was placed there strategically. The weight of his muscles fell around him perfectly. He was just perfect. But he reeked of danger. A do not enter zone. The exact kind of man a father would do everything in his power to keep his daughter on the opposite side of the planet and detached from. Thankfully, Nani didn’t carry those problems…

“You can do one more,” she pushed. “Besides it won’t take that long. It’s small, right?” She winked in Nani’s direction.

“—right,” Nani answered catching her drift. “Not even the size of my fist.”

He stood with all his weight in one leg, and lips in the straightest line. Both women trained on him. The events of the rest of the night in his hands as they waited for his verdict.

“Come on.”

Rhea beamed for Nani, sticking a tongue out. Nani nodded in a silent thank you, before following his towering frame to the back. He wasn’t even walking fast, but his long legs carried him to their destination faster somehow and she struggled to keep up. They passed at least five different open rooms. Two with groups in them. One, more intimate, with just the client seated with their face buried, as the artist went to work on their back. Another where a girl was preparing a bunch of needles for three different piercings to a man’s tongue. And the last one they passed was shut completely. That left one door at the very end of the hall on the left.

He stopped and threw a hand up signaling her to enter first. The room was medium sized. A dim glow of light blanketed over it, making her wonder how he even did his job in such sketchy lighting. Pictures of his work—vibrant and intricate pieces on all shades of skin, but mostly Pe’a or Malu. His specialty.

He had historic, cultural figurines and sculptures lined on the window sill of the furthest wall. Everything about this place, since she walked in was so in your face and blunt. Still, everything left a trail of curiosity in its wake.

“You can put your stuff in that chair.” He nodded to a small emerald love seat in the corner by a window.

Throwing her bag on his chair she walked along the wall where the pictures were, while he typed away on his phone. Telling the girl he promised to see after work that he wasn’t going to make it. Last minute walk-in. Truth is, Nani was an angel in disguise. He never wanted to link the girl, anyway. She was just a fuck to him. Something to do in the wee hours of the night. But she talked way too much, seeing as it wasn't her conversation that brought the two together. And he couldn’t fucking stand the smell of her cat’s litter box. So, staying at work to do what he was passionate about was the best thing that could’ve happened. He wouldn’t dare show it, though.

He placed his phone face down and turned to find her staring at him. Hands clasped in front of her in the middle of the room looking like a lost puppy.

What Nani perceived as him ignoring her was really him avoiding her. He saw that plump ass sitting between two wide hips the minute he rounded the corner, after being summoned by Rhea. His too cool for anything demeanor, almost breaking when she turned and her front was just as satisfying as her back.

Doe eyes accentuated by long thick lashes. Two full pouty lips, dripping in gloss, making his dick twitch in his sweats. High cheek bones with a beauty mark resting high up on one of them. All of that beauty centered in a head full of honey blonde highlighted curls.

She was fine as fuck to him, but he could tell she was young. At twenty-six he refused to make himself susceptible to the delusions of a young girl and her heart. Love wasn’t on his radar. He was too busy falling for and perfecting his craft.

He crossed two muscular arms, one over the other with his butt rested on the counter where he kept most of his supplies.

“I’m Nani,” she informed.

“I’m aware. You said so out there.” She kicked herself for forgetting something that happened not even three minutes ago. “Nani,” he repeated. Her name rolling off his tongue as if it tasted good to him—like he was savoring it. “This your first time getting a tattoo?” His eyes traced her perimeter finding nothing visible.

She nodded. “Yup.”

“I’m Roman,” he finally told her.

“Roman…that fits you.”

He squinted. Her face, a flushed hue of red since the moment he saw her. Like she was burning up. It was hard for her to keep still. Fidgeting constantly. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Twisting her hands.

“You been drinking, Nani?”

“Not a lot,” she lied. “Why? Is that a problem?” In her head, she silently wished he said yes and turned her away. They stood there, eyeing each other before he decided to speak again.

“My ass.” He called her bluff immediately. “Babygirl, I can smell the tequila from over here.” He turned back to his station. “I’m not supposed to tatt you, if you’re under the influence. The alcohol—it thins your blood. Which means more blood when the needle hits. Which makes it harder to do my job.” The sound of him tossing tools and supplies around overruled the silence in the pause he took. “Might fuck up how it heals. Infections.” He shook his head. “And I don’t really have time for you or your folks coming in here tomorrow because you did something stupid while you were drunk, that you’re gonna regret tomorrow.” He faced her again with hands on his hips. “When you’re sober.”

“So—you turning me away?” For the quickest second, she envisioned the disappointment and disdain plastered on the faces of her best friends as she staggered back to the jeep with news of rejection. They’d think she was lying. “Come on. Don’t make me go back and tell my friends you told me no.” She forced a laugh. His hard exterior displaying anything but amusement. “They’ll be strolling in any minute now. They’re parking.”

His eyes traveled her silhouette again. His face still impenetrable. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking even if he had speech bubbles growing from his head.

“Sign this.”

She took it and read quickly. Not able to focus long enough, she just hoped nothing crazy was written in black and white. Taking the pen she held the paper against the wall, turning from him to sign it.

“The air don’t work back here. You care if I take my shirt off?” Nani’s tongue went dry at the revealing of his sculpted back as he removed his shirt before she even had a chance to answer.

One of them bitches slipped me something for sure, she thought. Every thing about tonight was unconceivable. It’s like she was observing the whole chain of events outside of her own body. Nothing about it seemed real—nothing about it felt like it was happening to her.

He was fucking beautiful. Like God himself told the angels to lay off because he felt compelled to draw the lines and sculpt this one himself. And damn, did he take his time savoring every minute and making them count.

Just as she thought, the tattoo spread to the vicinity of his back and broad shoulder. He was already built so hard and the tattoo was just a further testament. A story told in the language of pathways, roads and lined patterns, of a Pacific warrior.

When she thought it couldn’t get any better, she damn near wet her pants at the sight of him shirtless and facing her. Tattoo stretching to his defined chest. Deep lines, mountains, valleys and ridges mapping different routes to his adonis line. Tiny smooth black hairs peaking over the top of his red underwear, only made visible by his black sweats hanging loosely off his hips.

He stepped up and held his hand out. Confused at first she just stared at his big palm. Then remembering the paper in her hand, she passed it and the pen back to him.

“You wanna tell me what you want?” Dangerous words from an even more dangerous looking man.

“I want a tattoo—”

“Obviously.”

“I wasn’t finished.” She squinted at him and folded her arms. Something of a smirk dancing on her lips at his discreet playfulness. “I want a tattoo of a sea turtle,” she told him chin up. “With tribal patterns. Maybe some waves mixed with flower patterns too? You can get creative. Do what you want.”

“Do what I want?” He challenged.

“You’re the artist. I trust you.” They sat in silence for a beat before he pushed off the counter.

“Can I trust you to do this part on your own?” He stood expressionless with a paper towel and roll of tape in one hand extended her way. She looked between the items and him. “I just need you to cover yourself.” His eyes shuffled between the outline of her nipples through her pink Skims top, and she finally understood the assignment. “Leave enough space so that I can do what I gotta do.”

“Okay.” And with that he left out of the same door they came in.

Her nipples and the dark shade of her areolas were probably only the size of a pinball. Ripping two medium sized squares, she placed one over her left nipple in the mirror to make sure nothing that didn’t need to, showed. She didn’t have a clue what enough space was for him to do his job.

Where the hell are they? They’re the ones that pushed her to do this. Trying to simultaneously control her heartbeat and breathing, while appearing sober, was a daunting task on its own. This was the least they could do for her.

“I think I’m good!” She yelled to him hoping he was only right outside the door.

He stepped back in. The sound of his sneakers heavy even over the sound of the music playing from somewhere else in the shop. He walked, eyeing her B cups with the paper towel covering the most sensitive parts. Every time she thought he’d stop, he kept coming until he ended up dangerously close. Eye level to his chest she waited for him to say something as her heart picked up a dangerous pace. Doe eyes looking so innocently up at him.

A low gasp escaped her as she felt the tape above her right nipple, being disconnected from the sensitive skin. She looked down for just a second, feeling air on her exposed breast, as he moved the tape up higher on her chest.

“Rib is one of the worst places. Straight skin. No fat or extra muscle to go through.” His eyes never left hers. A snake in the garden hypnotizing Eve. She feared consequences if she broke the trance. “I think you can take it.” He rubbed the tape to ensure it stuck, right up against the top of her nipple. Her breath got caught in her throat, trying to suppress the moan that threatened to leave her.

He ripped the tape off her left nipple. Eyes stuck on hers still. Repeating the same motions as he did for the right side. Using his fingers to place it where he needed it, and smoothing the tape down, without a single glance at his handiwork.

“Lay down,” he demanded.

She sat, butt first, high up on the leather table, before laying all the way down. The weight of her breast pushing up toward her collar bones.

She kept her eyes trained on his every move. “Just taking the hairs off,” he explained holding up a razor before shaving the space under her chest. “Vaseline.” He held it up before smearing it smoothly onto the same spot. He found it best to be transparent and explain every little step to the clients that looked like they might run for the hills.

The sound of latex stretching and snapping caught her attention and she halfway flinched. He blew a sharp breath out of his nose to cover the amusement that threatened to leave him. “It’s just gloves, baby.” He held his covered hands up. Just breathe, she coached herself. Mercedes and Sam wouldn’t be able to control their laughter at this point. She was glad they’d miss this part.

He flipped a button and the gun stirred up a loud buzz. She thought she might throw up right then and there. “Just relax.” He tried his best to prepare her. The shock of first connection was always the most unpredictable. His hand was warm even through the material of the latex glove as he spread her skin in preparation. Her square face immediately contorted in pain. Jaw clenched down and eyebrows pinched together.

“Mm,” she groaned.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“What if I say it already is?”

He laughed inside. Stretching her skin to get a sturdier canvas. “You’re doing so good already, though,” he lied.

“Is it supposed to burn?”

“Yeah. If you can’t take blood I wouldn’t look,” he advised feeling her head rise right near his. “I need you lying all the way back, anyway.” He nudged her head back with his knuckles. Nani was now forced to just listen to the machine responsible for her pain, and the blasting of background music. None of it was overpowering enough. The pain won. After what felt like minutes passing, she broke her silence.

“Is it almost done?”

“Nani, it's only been like two minutes.” She whimpered at his revelation.

“How long did yours take?”

“A full day.”

“Like twenty-four hours?”

His upper lip tugged in a smirk. The first time anything nearing a smile graced his features and the sight took her breath away. His cheek bone heightened with a flashed dimple.

“Nah. Like fifteen with an hour break.” He swiped the blood away and repositioned his hands on her ribs. It didn’t matter that the latex separated him from her. It was useless. She could still feel him—still burned with heat.

“Wow.” She didn’t know what to say. She was just afraid of the silence paired with the electrical buzzing of his tattoo gun, scaring her straight. “That’s a—that’s a long time.”

“That’s right. Just keep on talking to me. You’re doing good,” he encouraged. Even though every time the needle came off and went back on her, she jumped. And with every swipe as he tried to clear the canvas from the mess of blood, she flinched.

His words. They weren’t supposed to be, but the rasp in his baritone voice accompanied by his large hands on her—made it sexual. Sounded just like the dominant men she read about in her erotica novels on Kindle. Only, he was live in the flesh in place of words etched on a screen. Finer than anything she could imagine while reading.

“Why the turtle?” He probed noticing her grow stiff. She was swallowing the beast that was her drunken hormones and he thought she was two seconds from telling him to stop.

“My uh…my grandmother had one just like it.”

“She’s an islander?”

“She’s Samoan—was. She was.” Nani looked in the opposite direction from where the needle punctured her flesh repeatedly. The alcohol enhancing all her emotions. Not just lust. “She passed away a few months ago.”

Roman swiped her skin again, his brown orbs piercing hers. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he told her sincerely. “You two were close?” The last thing he wanted to do was dissect her brain and get deep. Interrogation with personal questions— unlocking doors to emotions she kept hidden. But she was in desperate need of the distraction. More importantly, he needed her to relax. She was way too tense. The best way he knew how to do that, was to keep the client engaged in conversation. He’d halfway listen, only jumping in and asking another question when they grew quiet again, knowing people loved to talk about themselves.

“Closer than close.” Nani smirked remembering Momma Leya. “She raised me. I don’t know my parents,” she confessed. Her deepest lure that everyone she crossed paths with had to earn the awareness of. And she just handed it to him.

They conversed some more—but fell back into that pit of silence covered in the machinery and music. He had to focus on the patterns and she was too drawn to the discomfort.

She tried to focus on exactly where the pain was—the constant keen burn like he was lighting tiny little matches to her skin—but for some odd reason the pain almost felt like pleasure. Like something that hurt so good and you didn’t want it to stop. The curiosity of how far your body could go with the inflection of pain weighing on her.

Her breathing sped up and she wondered if maybe she was just on the verge of passing out. He had already warned her that alcohol and the gun didn’t mix.

Her gaze flickered to him. The crease in between his brow as he was so close to the underside of her exposed breast. The hotness of his breath fanning her, giving her chills even though she was blazing from the inside out like she had a fever.

He’d turn his head right, angling to get a closer look at the lines he drew. Eyes in slits. A single lock of thick wavy hair fell out the sleek forest that was the rest of his curls, and over his forehead.

The tension in the sticky hot room was nothing if not sexual. It was so heavy and suffocating, she just knew he felt it to. Theres no way he didn’t. No way he couldn’t see the hardness of her nipple through the think fabric of the napkin.

The easy part was over. He traced the main lines and perimeter. It was time for the shading—the part where even the toughest men cracked. It wasn’t as simple as the needle traveling from just one spot, down to the other. He had to switch needles—a tighter grouping. Lower the speed and the voltage, which meant dragging the pain out. He was going over the same spot repeatedly. Up and down. Circles.

Nani hissed quietly every time it became too much. That sensation of pain transforming to something foreign, coming back harder with every stroke of his needle. She couldn’t keep still. Her legs clamped together, trying to clam herself from the desperate need of friction. She could feel the wetness pooling. Her whole body heating up a notch a second.

“You gotta be still, baby. Otherwise it’ll come out jacked up.” He raised a thick brow, eyes bouncing over her face before focusing back down to the turtle. “I’m trying my best to get the job done regardless—but I can only do so much.”

There was a break in the sensation. The needle hovered over her skin. Their eyes locking. “You alright?” He asked the question with his stare unwavering. Deep voice married with tenderness. Nani couldn’t take it. It's the moment when the water in a tea kettle reaches its highest point and it starts to scream. Begging for attention. Demanding relief. And she was no different.

It's like they had a radio transmission in their heads for a split second—because as soon as she thought it, he heard it and received it. His head turned down just inches from hers, she clamped her thighs tighter. She must’ve been leaking. He could smell her.

The muscles in his jaw danced as he grit his teeth. Eyes finding the exact spot where that familiar pungent smell was coming from. He hardened to an uncomfortable degree underneath the fabric of his sweats, noticing how tight she had her legs shut.

The realization of it all hitting him like a city train full speed. He didn’t know what spirit had possessed him, but he didn’t counter it, as it forced him to rip the tape off her right breast. Her chocolate peak right in front of his mouth.

Sticking a flatted tongue out, his eyes were trained on hers as he rolled the hard skin over his tongue before taking it into his hot mouth. Tongue sliding over it after sucking, earning a whimper from her pretty mouth. Catching it between his teeth and pulling until it snapped back. He noticed the rise in her chest with every action. Exhilaration staged on her small features.

She likes pain.

His tongue still dancing and doing tricks on her nipple—he watched her struggle to keep still. Gasping—mouth wide, but nothing came out except heavier pants. She craved relief of a different kind, in a different spot. Her small hand found its way under the thick elastic band and into her Skims shorts.

“Ohh.” The moan finally broke free as rubbed that magic button. All the heat transferring down, leaving her hole clenching on nothing and aching.

As the thought to fill herself with her fingers passed to fruition, he pulled her hand out by the wrist. Undoing the latex gloves and replacing her. His fingers slid over her clit with ease from her juices covering her.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbled. He played in it. Noises of macaroni and cheese before you bake it, violently traveling up to their ears. Sinking two thick fingers in without warning, she grabbed his wrist. Her back arching off the table. Mouth falling open even wider. Pupils blown as he stared down at her from the bridge of his nose. Studying her. “You like pain,” he uncovered to the both of them.

Filling her up, he curved his fingers finding that spot. Plunging in and out. The wetness spilling with every rapid thrust. Sliding all the way out, he rubbed her clit again in painfully slow but calculated circles. Nani’s waist winding like a snake to keep up with him.

Rising up from the seat, his face hovered over hers. He wanted to kiss her—bad. Her full lips begged for his. But he knew what that came with. Kissing was too intimate in his head. It was too romantic-adjacent. He didn’t even dare collide tongues with half the women he’s laid with.

“Roman,” she whimpered. His name spilling from her mouth like she had said it numerous times before, under the same circumstances. He wanted to free himself and fuck her into the table, until the legs gave out and they ended up on the floor. That’s what the sound of his name on her tongue did to him. Visceral. It was now him that had reached the top of his mountain.

Hooking long fingers in the waistband of her shorts, he yanked them down her legs in a flash. Her panties coming off with them. A thick glob of stringy wetness between her and the fabric of them. His mouth watered at the sight. If he hadn’t already decided before, his decision was set in stone right then and there. She wasn’t leaving this room until he got a taste. Consequences be damned.

He found her eyes again, like he was daring her to stop him. She wasn’t that brave. Nani had no more will or energy to fight with the promise of pleasure, even if it came cloaked in danger. She fought enough the first thirty minutes in this humid room, alone with him, with his rough hands all on her body.

With her clothes still pooled around her ankles, he hooked his hands on the back of her knees, pushing until they were close against her chest, folding her in half. The flesh of her pussy squished together, lips neatly folded—-waiting and ready.

He bit down hard on the back of her thigh. She hissed from that familiar burning that danced the thin line of pain and pleasure. Sucking until the light skin bruised. He made a trail of them until he came face to face with her pink, aching flesh.

He latched onto her like velcro. Like his mouth was made for the sole purpose of connecting with her. Nani saw stars the moment his hot mouth made contact with her center. He took her swollen clit into his mouth and sucked hard. No warming up. She was already well past done. Burning up.

Hips bucking, chasing that feeling that was already at her front door. He barely did anything and her core was wound tight and ready for release. She wouldn’t last much longer.

Space rendered between her back and the leather bed as she arched. Hips grinding whichever way felt the best in the moment. His lips smearing into her—entire mouth aiding in the mission to make her come undone on his tongue. She didn’t have a care in the world. Her head twisted and she caught the open door that had slipped her mind like the rest of the world outside of this room.

She hoped the volume of the music was enough to drown out her moans. If not, she didn’t care. Nothing took precendee over cumming in this moment. Even if someone had walked in, she knew she didn’t want him to stop. What she didn’t know is that he wouldn’t. Roman had been caught in this very room fucking numerous clients. Them giving head or whatever other debauchery as payment. The whole shop knew it. This was different though. Never had he ever been on the other end, not as the receiver. His heavy member pulsed harder like the blood from his heart, picturing someone walking in while he was face first in her.

Nani grew hornier with every stroke, flick, and swipe of his warm tongue. The liquor, the rush of sin, running the risk of getting caught, the room vacant of any fresh air—it was all too much. The thrill of exposing and opening herself so intimately to this stranger. This might’ve been the single most enthralling night of her life. She cursed the moment it had to end.

“Mmm,” he groaned. Moving with the rhythm she set, grinding on his face, letting her control the show for a bit. “That’s right. Use me. Yesss.” His hand—blood pumped veins—came up to cover her left breast. He pinched and tugged on the sensitive skin. “Fine ass.”

Pulling back a little, he admired the view. Her nub peaked out from two fat lips covered in gloss. “Pretty ass pussy,” he muttered to himself just before spitting harshly and licking the mess up before it got to the destination of her ass. He stuck a long stiff tongue inside. Fucking her with it as if it was his dick he was driving in and out of her.

“Oh my god—don’t stop. Fuck, that feels so good.”

He needed to hang a PhD along the wall, where the rest of his accomplishments lived—because the head was brilliant. Genius.

Nani had never felt anything like this before. His speed, the switch in tempo, the pressure—all of it was perfect. He gave her just enough to where she felt like she was on the edge, without falling completely off. Making it last.

She was working up a sweat now. A thin sheen on her throat caught under the dim light as she threw her head back. It matched the same layer of sweat that glowed on the deep line of Roman’s rugged back.

Those wet, gushy sounds were music to his ears. She was leaking for him. He slid his tongue through her folds and over every part of her with ease. Smearing his lips in it as it coated him like chapstick. For a man that didn’t indulge often, he was taking full advantage. Reveling in it, like a pig in dirt. She was sweet to him. Moaning and whining so prettily. Her fearlessness turned him on. The complete opposite of him. She hid in innocence while his vileness was on full display. They met in the middle somehow. Playing out each other’s mutual vices.

“You like the way I eat at this pretty pussy. Don’t you?” He growled.

A swollen lip sunk in between her teeth. She could only moan in response to his filthy uncovering. He didn’t even need an answer. The answer was scribed in the wind of her hips into his mouth. The grip she had on his hands. The breathless pants like a bitch in heat. “Say it,” he demanded still. He got a kick out of turning girls out. Pushing them past their comfort zone and making them say and do things they wouldn’t otherwise be able to without his wicked guidance. “Say, I love the way you eat my pussy, Roman.”

In fear that he would arrest her pursuit to pleasure, she obeyed. “I love the way you eat my pussy, Roman,” she mewled. Twisting and contorting her upper body. Unable to hold still as he rewarded her obedience with lightning speed flicks of his tongue. He took her confession and shoved it in the same basket where the rest of his sexual side quests lived in his memory.

“Doing so good,” he repeated the same praise as he had when his needle was inside of her. “I want you to come in my mouth, baby.” His cheeks hollowed in as he sucked the life out of her, ready for the explosion. No more holding back. He was ready to knock her over the cliff. “You gonna cum for me? Hm?” He questioned. Mouth still full of her. The hum of his voice sending vibrations all through her body.

Shaking her head frantically like a fiend, she held his gaze, peaking over her legs to watch him eat at her. He could’ve asked for the moon and the stars and she’d run out into the night to bring it to him. He had her in the palm of his huge hand. “Do it. Come on. I wanna see you cum all over this fucking tongue. Do it.” He spanked her left ass cheek and squeezed after the harsh sound rang loud.

It all sent her into overdrive. All that was in her came crashing out. So powerful she had to lock her fingers with his. The flesh of his hands turning white on his tanned skin, from the pressure of her hold. Legs suspended in the air—shaking. Feet arched to a painful degree. The worst and best was done.

Roman rose like a fallen angel—wet mustache, stroking his damp hair back and out of his face. Still bonded at the ankles, Nani swung her legs down, unbalanced. Reaching for his sweats to free the unnaturally large bulge. She yearned to see it. She just knew it had to be as pretty as he was.

He let her get all the way there before he swatted her hand away. “Lay back down,” he instructed. She wasn’t running this show. He wanted nothing more than to buss her down right here on the table. Feel her clenching down on this thickness until he came right on that pretty pussy.

But the bells signaling her friends entering the shop were drowned out by the noise of rap music blanketing the shop.

Rhea’s head rose from where she was buried in her phone at the front desk. “Hi, ladies.” She beamed welcoming the young girls in. “Just so you know we’re closing in about thirty-five minutes.”

“That’s cool,” Mercedes stepped up while Sam admired the collage of photos displaying the work of their artists. “We’re not getting anything. Our friend should be in here. Same height as me. A little lighter. Curly hair.”

“She was a walk-in, right?”

“Yup,” Mercedes nodded. Rhea noticed the girl’s low red eyes and unsolicited smirk. An effect of nature’s medicine. She smiled to herself and nodded to the back.

“She’s with Roman. Last door on the left down that hall.”

“Thank you,” both girls slurred.

They gawked in each room, moving at a sedated pace, taking slow strides until they finally reached the last door on the left. Halfway open, Sam pushed it to reveal inside.

The girls stared in horror almost at the scene in front of them. She had really fucking did it.

“Oh my god, Nani.” Sam peaked over Roman’s shoulder seeing the near finished product with a wide grin. “We just knew you were gonna pussy out and come back to the car. We didn’t think you’d actually fucking do it.”

“What the fuck took y’all so long?” Nani’s eyebrows hiked up.

“Well,” Mercedes started, throwing her Kurt Geiger bag to the same couch Nani had hers in. “There was no parking for like two blocks. Then when we finally found one, a little package slipped from your hoodie in the backseat.” Both girls snickered.

“You bitches did not smoke my blunt.”

“Oh, don't worry.” Sam bit her lip. “We left some for you.” She picked up a clay figure of a man with patterns etched into his skin. Saveasi’uleo—Samoan god of the underworld.

“Please don’t touch that.” Sam flinched at his baritone voice, despite it only being an octave over a whisper. Something about the way he said it felt urgent. The fact that he knew she was touching something without looking her way, was enough to scare her into retreating. It clacked on its landing.

That was enough for both girls to just take a seat. They watched like medical students shadowing a doctor, as he shaded in the last of the tattoo for twenty minutes.

“All done,” he announced. “You gotta be careful. A lot of friction in this area for women. No swimming for a couple weeks. Wash with non-scented soap here. No gym. We don’t want any sweat.” He ran down as many rules he could think of. His mind still in a frenzy. Hard dick tucked. He kept a firm hold on her hip as he had her stand between his spread legs to cover it in plastic wrapping. “It’s gonna itch when it’s healing, but don’t scratch it. Rhea has some stuff up front for you to put on it.” He nudged her away from him. The smell of her arousal still strong.

The four of them made their way to the front. The shop now empty and silent. Rhea abandoned her closing task of sweeping and rounded the desk to ring the healing ointment up before looking to Roman.

“How much does she owe you?”

His eyes found Nani’s. Stoic demeanor cracking for a split second, smoldering eyes, as he rejoiced in the way she arched for him. The way she pushed into him to feed him. The curve of her breast into the stiff peak of her nipples. The way she took him with no hesitation or pushback. Begging for more when there was none left to give.

“I’ve already been paid.”

𝙰/𝙽: hey, so i came to the conclusion that as long as Biggest Fan is still in progress, i might as well just release whatever else was in progress for him. i'm not wasting my art. this was like 75% done when that big-eared bitch tried to kill me us. i didn't want it to go to waste.

this is during his NXT days. for purposes of the story let's just pretend his tattoo was finished back then.

i barely proofread. i'm tired, sorry lol

as always, if you read it or even just a portion, i am grateful. feedback is always welcomed. k, bye😘

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