#no I do not know what a tinder profile looks like thank you for noticing

[polyklok]

Currently going feral for him

Bonus because this also suited him:

[pastlivesxpastlie]

I see in a different light...the object of my desire

what happens when you accidentally text Bestfriend!Vessel instead of your Tinder hook up?

Tags/CW/Head's Up: vessel x you, fem gendered language, brief dubcon, briefly jealous!vessel and possessive!vessel, sending nudes, verbal teasing, spanking, cunnilingus, prone-bone, smut interrupted by fluff then back to smut, barely revised argue with the wall, fuck boys mentioned

MDNI 18+

it's one of those nights where nothing is going your way. you're still fuming about getting ghosted on tinder earlier this week. things were going so well and if *insert douchey fuck boy name* hadn't gone radio silent, you'd probably be going down on him right now! it's been entirely too long since you've had sex, let alone received some kind of non-platonic male attention. that's why you joined tinder this past month, even though your best friend, Vessel's, voice echoed in your ear saying...

Plenty of men want you! I don't get why you don't see it. You don't need the apps, just get out of your head. 

wow. so helpful. thank you, sir. you rolled your eyes when he said that as you edited your profile. if he's so good at noticing when other guys were checking you out, why did he never point them out? or was he just being nice?

at any rate, you feel cheated out of a fun night with a hot guy and want to make him feel sorry. so, you do what any sane, horny girl would do--send him a nude. you don't show everything right away. not you. never. you took the selfie so quickly you didn't have time to feel shame.

You put your PJs on and start to make yourself a little snack when you hear your text tone. Hah. Finally! He’s back in your messaging…groveling. pleading. Another ding. HAH! You must have really got him.

Vessel: Send another one xx 

5 minutes earlier

Vessel was tempted to pull an all nighter. He knew if he just put in a liiiiiitle more work, this melody would be golden and maybe he could pat himself on the back. Right as he was about to rage quit....ding ding. Very very few people's texts are allowed to bypass his DND settings...except for his best friend.

you: this could be yours, you know?

Vessel nearly dropped his phone as he made sense of the picture in front him. It only showed her lips down to her soft tummy, but he knew it was her. This wasn't some weird spam text masquerading as his dearest friend. She looked angelic. Dreamy. Delicious. Her free hand covered her breasts...her lips in a flirty smirk as she lightly bit her plush bottom lip. Vessel knew she was beautiful. Aren't all women beautiful, though? Surely every man feels his head cave in and his stomach clench with butterflies when his best female friend is near. Right…?

"Fuuuuuuuucccccck" he intoned, letting his hand drift down to his crotch to try and calm himself. He shook his head and repeated himself, putting down the phone. More than likely that text wasn't meant for him. There was no way. His face burned. His cock throbbed between his legs as he felt these strange, lustful stirrings for his best friend. What the fuck was wrong with him? The track he was working on quickly became the least important thing in the world…his frustrations slipping away as soon as his zipper was undone.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? How did you click on Vessel’s name instead of *insert douchey fuck boy name*?! They aren’t even close in spelling…oh…but they’re close on your “Recents” list. And now your hastiness and inattention has lead to you receiving a flirty response from your best friend who has been nothing short of a little brother to you.

You: OMG VES I AM SO SORRY!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you. FML. You: It was supposed to go to this guy from Tinder. Let’s just delete the thread and put this behind us, yeah?

...

It’s been 20 minutes. No response. Your stomach is in knots from the unknown. It’s really late…maybe he fell asleep. Maybe he was just kidding? Yes. That’s it. He was drunk and messing about and then passed out. That will help you sleep…just keep telling yourself…

Knock knock knock 

There have been two times now that you wish the tinder fuck boy was here. First time was when you were so horny you couldn’t see straight after your shower, and the second time was now, as someone knocked on your door at 1:30 AM. *ding ding*

Vessel: hun, come on. It’s me. 

Christ. What is this? You get off your bed and peer through the peep hole. Sure enough, it’s Ves in a hoodie and sweats, looking cuddly and kissable and WAIT. No no no no. Get it together. He probably just wants to hang out to show you that nude incident doesn’t change anything. 

“Well hello there young man, does your mother know you’re not in bed?” You say with a dry laugh as you open the door.

Vessel walks right past you into your place. You close the door behind you and lean your back against it. 

“Have I repulsed you into silence, hm?” 

Your normally boyish, quiet, sarcastic best friend looks practically ravenous as his eyes trail down your body. Now he knows what you look like naked, and the sight of you clothed right now borders on sacrilege. He takes a step forward. His doe eyes, which still brim with charm and platonic affection, bore into you as he grasps your chin with his hand.

“How cruel…to dangle such a tasty treat in front of me and then not take a compliment and act like this was such a terrible oversight on your part,” he growls.

“And which compliment are you referring to?”

He pulls you by the chin enough so that your back is off the door, though you’re certain he will just pin you back against it when he sees fit. This is not your closest friend. This is a man possessed. 

“Stop playing dumb, it’s beneath you. I asked you to send another immediately after receiving the first. Is that not a compliment? That I’m not merely satisfied with one image. I could have you in countless ways…I need to know what that would look like. Do you really want me to take you on your back every time? Always with your arm covering your tits like that? Hm?”

Your inhales are sharp gasps now as the butterflies in your tummy churn to get out. You’ve never seen him like this…never seen him as a prospective lover…never seen him horny even…but this…wait…wait why is he…

He gently chuckles and presses you back against the door, shaking his head and stepping away. 

“Oh my god…” he chuckles, “the look on your face. I really had you going, eh?”

You scoff, laughing in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You say shaking your head and walking towards your kitchen. Just fall into the old routine. Get your usual drinks and plop on the couch for shit tv. You don’t make it far and suddenly you’re being pulled backwards by your sleep shorts. 

“This is what the fuck is wrong with me.” His hands keep your hips still as he presses his bulge against you. “You’ve ruined me. You have actually ruined my perception of you.”

“Tsk,” you try to wriggle from his grip but he ends up clasping you in a tight bear hug from behind, “slut shaming me now?”

“You sweet, silly, little wanker….shaming?” God it was weird to hear his playful nickname for you as he gently grinds against you. The resolve you worked so hard to build is dissolving as your head falls against his shoulder and allow him to knead your hips and stomach. He continues in hot, breathy whispers, “babydoll…I encourage it…as long it’s saved for me. Can you do that? Hm? Can you promise to only share that with me?”

Now your body betrays you and you grind back into him. 

“You’re no better than me. Look at you,” he says he plants soft, needy kisses on your neck. “You want this, don’t you? Please…please tell me you feel it too.” His grip is no longer firm. It’s hard. You're able to snake one of your hands up and behind his neck…you’re desperate to touch him anywhere at this point. 

“I…I feel it…”

Suddenly you’re being steered towards your bedroom. Ves is strong, perhaps not enough to hoist you up and throw you on bed, but he enthusiasm is evident when you’re pushed on the bed on your stomach. Immediately he’s out of his hoodie and his warm, bare torso presses against your back. He’s clinging to you from behind and letting his hands roam under your shirt. 

You let out a breathy moan and chuckle. “So you liked what you saw?”

“Mmmmmph,” He lets out gruffly as he gently bites your shoulder and licks the indentions from his pearly whites. 

You let out another moan but with a cackle now. “Oh ew. Sorry that wasn’t hot.”

He leans up and gives you a swift smack on your plush ass. “I’m realizing now that everything about you is hot.” But you don’t feel him touch you anymore. You roll over and look up at him. He sighs. 

“Ves, you ok? Did I do something wrong?”

“No…no…I just…kind of dropped back into my body. What are we doing?”

You smirk sadly. What are you two doing?

“We can stop if you want. Just talk. Whatever you want.” You sit up and caress his arm feeling the warmth and texture of his skin as if for the first time. He looks at you softly.

“Please don’t take my…enthusiasm…as some kind of…I don’t know…disregard for you. I’d…I’d do anything to be on the receiving end of those texts…I realize that now. It’s not just sex I want. It’s not just…your body. Don’t get me wrong…it tempts me beyond belief…now that I’ve seen it. But I get it now.”

You smile softly and maybe even proudly as he soothes your fears. As much as you would have loved to be prone-boned a minute ago, you were scared it was only because of the newness and craziness of the situation. “Get what, Ves?”

“Why I feel the need to do this.” And with that he presses deep kiss into your plump lips. His hand slips down shyly to your collar bone as your hand tangles in his hair. 

You let him undress you. Of course, he had just seen you practically naked. But here you were…in the flesh before him. You two spent a considerable just touching…caressing...tasting. But it became frenzied again after you let your hand mindlessly trail down your body to rub your clit. It wasn’t long before you found yourself folded in half with his face between your legs. His tongue flicking and massaging your clit as you squeal and buck your hips against him. His strong arms keep you still for the most part, but you don’t know what to do with your hands. First they’re on your tits…then the back of his head…twisted in his hair. He gives in and sticks his tongue out to let you grind against it. With your hand holding his hair tightly, your hips grind against his precious face. You look down…met with those same doe eyes. As if you weren’t mewling and blubbering enough…that little shit chuckles dryly and presses two fingers into your hot pussy. 

“Ffffffuuuuuccckkkk you. Oh my GOD,” you groan as you reach your climax. The white-hot knot in your tummy unfurls and your folds ache with pleasure as he presses your insides firmly and watches you reverently. “Holy fuck…ok…fuck…get off me now,” you say quickly because otherwise you’ll be completely overstimulated. He backs off immediately. What a good boy. His chest heaves up and down as he looks at you. You suddenly feel very small. Vulnerable with your soft belly and pussy exposed to him. What’s the worst that could happen…letting your best friend rut into you?

“You’re on birth control, yeah?”

You nod. Your IUD was still good for two more years. But you half-think you’d give him whatever he wanted, even if it meant being risky and stupid. He takes your legs firmly and pulls you down to him. He pats your clit with his heavy cock a few times. You shudder. 

“How long’s it been, love? Hm?” You don’t even want to answer. He caresses your cheek and moves to press himself inside you. Your body clenches as his thick cock stretches you. “Oh…oh it’s been awhile. Poor, little love. Let me fix it…let me make it better.”

As soon as he starts fucking you, you’re moaning his name and clasping his forearms. Your soft body jiggles in little waves as he presses into you with a gentle, patience force.

“Fucking hell…” he moans as he moves his hands. One settles on your ribs under your breast while the other collapses and lazily circles the top of your head. He leans down to kiss you…your taste still on his lips. 

Despite being so worked up, he keeps his wits about him and is able to fuck you without completely blowing his load in his new favorite place— your heavenly, warm, pussy. 

“God…god…such a pretty girl,” he whispers huskily. “My pretty girl is so good at taking cock. How did you get so good at taking cock, hm? You’re so good. So pretty.”

You can’t take it. You pull him in and make out with him roughly. All the feelings and thoughts you’d repressed flow out of you via your mouth and hips rubbing against him pathetically. He holds you impossibly close as he whines in your neck. 

“Babydolll….mmm…my little doll… stay still…stay still for me.”

Suddenly he flips you onto your stomach. An impressive feat given he was just balls deep in you. He pulls your hips up like he owns you and presses back into your pussy. He immediately whimpers pathetically. You’re desperate to throw it back but he gives your bottom a swift spank. 

“I said be still.” 

And with a hand firmly between your shoulder blades and another on your lower back, he drills into you until he’s shaking and blubbering about how he’s cumming inside you…how there’s no one like you…how you’re made for him…

The next morning, you wake up with Ves draped across your chest, snoring softly. You pet his hair softly and rub the sleep from your eyes as you check your phone. Hmm. Three missed calls and a string of pathetic texts from *insert douchey fuck boy name* acting like he never ghosted you in the first place. You toss your phone to the foot of the bed and curl up to Ves, who groggily wakes up as your kiss his head.

“Mine.” He says holding you close. 

“Mine.” You respond…groggy…sore…and lovesick.

[mischiefmaker615]

Please Please Please

Inspiration: Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Summary: You break the news to the team that you're dating a certain.. god of mischief..

Rating: PG 14

Requested By: @Hav3nLauf3ys0n (wattpad)

“Absolutely not!’’

‘’I don’t remember asking for your blessing.’’ You quip dryly as you and Steve cross your arms simultaneously.

‘’you know what he’s done-‘’ he starts, having leaned himself now on the kitchen counter as if preparing for a long lecture on why but you waved a hand at him.

‘’and he’s gotten better, you cant tell me you haven’t noticed the improvement upon staying here at the tower- be glad they’re just harmless pranks and not plots to try to-‘’

‘’why do you want to date Reindeer Games anyway?” Tony asked, coming into the room with his usual ‘never empty’ glass of booze in his hand. ‘’despite the whole killing and taking over the planet thing, what would necessarily be listed on his Tinder profile?”

“Tinder?” Steve raised a brow and Tony backtracks with a shake of his head.

‘’an app where you could find your local singles- actually that might be a great place for y-‘’

‘’guys! We’re getting off track here’’ you chime in, a hand at your temple as the boys looked over with silence for once. With a heavy sigh, you look at them with as much confidence as you could muster, regardless of the shakiness in your voice as Steve’s expression softened.

‘’he and I have already started dating.. kinda.. but I wanna try to make this work, he wants to see how it goes.. there’s something there and we’re happy when we’re together.. regardless of his first impression here, forgiveness and second chances should be in the picture until said other wise.’’

‘’kind of hard to give a second chance to literally the god of backstabbing.’’ Tony muttered while you shot him a look.

‘’he’s been here for almost a year now since New York, he’s helped us in the field when we’ve brought him along and has been a huge help. He would have compromised the missions somehow if he were still in his old ways but you have to admit, some of those assignments wouldn’t have gotten done without his abilities..’’ you note, your eyes moving to Steve who now stared at the ground in thought while he listened. Their silence was enough to have you keep going as you took another breath.

‘’this is happening, and I know to be careful.. he’s different, and he cares for me.. i figured I’d just make my rounds to let everyone know-‘’

‘’is it basically a heads up that we’ll be seeing a lot of touchy- feely stuff??” Tony gawked quickly and you shook your head with reddened cheeks.

‘’like you don’t do that stuff around here Stark.’’ Steve rolled his eyes, reminding him of how many girls come and go when no one’s watching.

‘’n-no- I just- I’m tired of all your attempts to set me up at your parties, I’m done with the dating game.. Loki and I just have something here that I’ve never felt with anyone else..’’ you explained and heard a sigh from Rogers who didn’t exactly look like he approved but he knew you were going to be stubborn on this so he raised his hands in a surrender position.

‘’just be careful.. that’s all we ask.. Nat and Clint have been assigned today but I think Thors still around somewhere- do not hesitate if he even tries to-‘’

‘’ill be fine Steve, thank you..’’ you say gently, giving a small smile before you exit the kitchen in search of Thor.

Not your best speech, it honestly felt like you were talking to your parents who didn’t approve.. but you were an adult, you’ve dated before and knew all the red flags you needed to dodge. Sure the whole ‘taking over the planet’ was a bit of a red flag.. a big one.. but as he’s stayed here fulfilling his ‘community service’, the two of you have had quite the opportunity to bond over that time.

Its been almost a year and the two of you seem to have had a connection where you craved the attention of the other when you were separated. You both would gossip, flirt and have lengthy talks about your interests and differences. Coming from completely different realms gave you both much to talk about and you even got to teach him a bit of basic things on how to adapt to the tower. The television was your favorite to teach because you stopped him faster at trying to throw it than your laptop. Apparently, many ‘magical moving pictures’ presented the illusion of possession to Loki. Thor wasn’t that much different when he was adapting too.

~

‘’what ails you Y/N?” Thor asked, having ran into you in the halls not long after you went in search of him.

you almost choked on your heart for a moment when you noticed his wet hair and towel in hand first, feeling stupid the next second after when he was indeed dressed and that your mind had thought otherwise for a moment. He’s hot- but he wasn’t for you.

Where the hell was coffee when you needed it..

‘’nothing in particular, just-‘’ you didn’t exactly know how to word it to him compared to literally anyone else. ‘I’m dating your brother’ sounded a little more awkward than telling anyone else that wasn’t family related- and this time you did mentally choke when you realized you had thought out loud.

‘’oh Lady Y/N that is wonderful!! I am so happy for you both! I’ve truly noticed how much happier my brother has been since earning your affections!” Thor beamed as he wrapped you in almost a bone breaking hug, squeezing all the stress out of you as you relaxed and wiped the previous embarrassment from your face when he set you down.

‘’t-thank you.. I just figured I was going to let everyone know by making my rounds-‘’

‘’is it because we will be seeing particular affections around here-‘’

‘’what?? No! why does everyone keep thinking that..’’ you blush and hide your face in your hands as he laughs. Its not that you both weren’t doing anything.. but you weren’t going to make it a goal to exactly show anyone your personal business-

‘’my brother can be very.. sexual hungry, as Stark seems to say.’’ Thor explains casually and you hold back from scrunching your nose as you look up at him. ‘’he always has and I’m sure when you both begin to get even closer, we might see you a bit less and less’’ he hints and your cheeks redden again.

Was he referring that you both would practically never leave the bedroom?- why was he so causal talking about this.. wanting to quickly change the subject from your sexual future and to your more concerning thought, you shifted in place as you looked up at him with hesitation.

‘’.. the team seems to disapprove..’’

Thor nodded, his features sympathetic as he sighs. ‘’I understand their reasonings Y/N,’’

‘’but he’s gotten better-‘’ you add quickly before you mouth goes off. ‘’sure he throws some pranks here any there- changing all the water to vodka, cutting holes in Steve’s costumes- dropping the temperature in the middle of the night- but I swear there’s no world domination in sight anymore. We’ve bonded a lot during this time since he’s been here, he gets me and I get him and I think we have something greater than friendship where he even through around the word courting- whatever that means but I think I love-‘’

Your rambling got cut off as Thor places his hands upon your shoulders, shutting you up as he gives you a gentle smile. ‘’my brother is a much better man because of you and I know you both will be happy Y/N. if there is any need for concern, we are here but I have no worries for you two. You have my blessing.’’ He beams and your body relaxs, giving him the same smile as you begin to turn.

‘’thank you Thor,.. I think i know just who to find next’’ you smile and give a gentle wave as your mind tells you Loki’s probably in his room.

‘’all the best wishes Lady Y/N’’ Thor chuckles and heads off just as you do and enter the elevator.

As soon as you press the button for the room floors and the door begin to slide closed, a hand shoots out and grips one of them with barely an inch of them closing. With barley any effort, the hand pulls the doors apart and there stands the god himself you were trying to find.

Loki.

‘’hello darling, I do believe we have a bit to discuss.’’ He says casual, not so much asking as he smirks yet his eyes drink you in seriously as he takes a step in, making you step back before the doors close behind him.

Although he’s been here quite some time, he always appeared in his armor and leather when he needed to speak about something serious. Granted, although he tried using it as an intimidation prop, you always seemed to get distracted as your eyes began to wonder.

‘’darling-‘’

‘’sir?” you said quickly with a start, holding back a small laugh as you wondering out of all the terms you had on file in your head, you had called him that one. Loki didn’t seem to mind as he raised a brow slightly and took a step closer, a hand gently taking hold of your jaw as he tilted it up and kept you looking at him.

His leaned down ever so slightly, his nose ghosting against yours as your fingers fidgeted nervously now while he spoke. ‘’please tell me as to why I have spotted you with every breathing male under this roof except me? Specifically, the one that’s hard to over look is my idiotic brother who then proceeds to have you in his arms.’’

His voice was dangerous, careful but yet not angry that you could tell because you knew he was waiting for you to give a perfectly good explanation. Shifting in place, you softened your features and let your excitement show with a smile while your hand came up to rest on his wrist.

‘’I was merely telling everyone the news that we were officially together and that-‘’

‘’is it a fair warning on what they might witness us doing?’’

‘’Jesus- even- whatever, anyway what I mean is, it’s a fair heads up that Tony can stop with his shipping whenever he throws a party, Steve can stop worrying about you being around because with us being together, if I trust you, he trusts me and thus, trusts you won’t do anything. Also so that Nat can stop her insistent teasing and innuendos-‘’

Loki cut you off as he presses his lips against yours, firmly and with love at the enjoyment to see how giddy you can get. The hand at your jaw lightens tremendously and moved to run his fingers into your hair at the side of your head, making you tilt your face to the side before he deepens the kiss. His other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer against his body before he nips at your bottom lip before pulling away.

He chuckles at your small pout at him stopping, his thumb stroking your cheek as his body relaxes from his unnecessary tension he came in with. ‘’I am pleased that you wish to ease everyone into our relationship, but they’ll see me how they wish, regardless if I am with you or not. Frankly I couldn’t care less, because my only focus is with you. I will treat you nothing less than of a goddess because I know that despite my introduction to this realm, I do not have an ounce in my body or the capability of bringing harm upon you.’’

Your hands grip his shoulders, eyes full of admiration towards the man god before you as your heart flutters in your chest. He shared your smile as you pull him down and press your lips to his again, running a hand through his hair as well that makes him practically growl against your lips, turning his head more into your massaging fingers before you feel him back you up.

Feeling the wall of the elevator against your back now, Loki presses his body against your front while his hands run up and down your sides before a hand joins your side to grip the hand bar, trapping you in the corner. His other hand snakes behind you to grip your ass, the mere feeling of it enough to have his lips press harder onto yours while you hold him close by the straps against his front.

*ding*

By the feeling of the elevator stopping, he slowly pulls away with the dangerous yet familiar mischievous glint in his eyes while he presses his forehead against yours. ‘’..are you in the mood for some mischief darling?’’ he purrs.

Part of you wasn’t sure if it was a sexual innuendo or he wanted you to join in of his little pranks he tried to keep up daily around here. Yet seeing the excitement on his features made you down for either one.. one more so than the other as you laughed and gave a nod.

“I beg you, don’t embarrass me. I already went around trying to hype you up that you’ve changed with your whole mischief thing’’ you lightly tease as he takes hold of your hand while the elevator doors open.

‘’oh darling, I was referring to the other kinds of mischief..’’ he smirks and your eyes suddenly notice his erection.

Please.. please.. please.. 

DM/Comment a song for your own Musical Mischief One Shot :D 

Note: Fan fiction makes Elevator rides longer than they really are LOL

~i imagined Loki teasing Y/N with the "stuff" they do and it led to this video LOL

Tag List: @foxherder  @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

[streamdotpng]

My brain is bored and my mind is thinking

Say, we all know that Wednesday is lowkey spoilt right? She always expected things to go her way, you can see it in the way she barges into Weems office or how lil care she has whenever she shoves orders at the sheriff's face

So imagine what happens when someone ghosts her

It'd strike her pride because well, Wednesday is the best and she knows this. There would be no reason for why someone wouldn't listen to her nor would there be a reason for someone to... Ignore her like this either

Now that we got that, lemme set the scene

They're adults, no supernatural, just a completely modern au

Enid is an accountant. It's boring, not at all what she expects from when she was younger but all she has to do is calculate money and it's monotonous enough that she can go through days absolutely no thoughts head empty

It's not the future she wants but it's the future she got

Yoko, her lovely coworker notices how not so firey her seatmate is and offers a new chat app because nothing is as fun as deciding to troll random people

Enid squints at the name. "are you seriously telling me to E date right now?"

"pshhhh, ofcourse not!" yoko says unconvincingly. "just get on and play around with some people, maybe talking to someone other than boss and me could liven you up :D"

Enid stares, wondering how tf did yoko do that before sighing and downloading the app. "if I get doxxed, you're helping me move to a new house."

Yoko waves a hand before twirling back to her cubicle. "thank me if you find a sugar daddy!"

Enid flushes. "you know I don't swing that way!"

Yoko laughs.

The blond grumbles before tapping at the recently downloaded app. It's literally like tinder and Enid knows that this is a dating app trying to hide as something else

So in payback, Enid starting basing her profile of yoko. She wasn't petty enough to snap a Pic of her best friend so she went to Google and kind of try harded in making her profile look like an emo girl's aesthetic board

Huh, maybe yoko has a point, this is pretty fun

Oh for the days where Enid could make things, maybe she should pick up crocheting again. Tempting, she'll do that when she gets home

As soon as she was done, Enid began randomly swiping right with absolutely no care at all.

Enid still places her name as enid because.. Why not. By the time she finished her bio, she got too lazy to create a new name so actual name it is!

It takes a bit because apparently no one in this app likes edgy girls who enjoy dark walks, cadaver dogs and wine so dark red it looks like blood. Enid only liked one thing in that list and she wonders how did she become friends with someone with such concerning interests.

Honestly, now that Enid is think about it, her profile kind of sounds like a serial killer's. If they were dumb and was way too open about their interest, so it was no wonder no one was swiping on her

But as she was about to put the phone down and have some faith in people's taste in women, a match was made

Okay, concerning

Time to have some fun.

Immediately, Enid knew this must be some satire account because really? Wednesday A? Very interesting because she too didn't have pictures of herself, instead it was pretty good shots of a Gothic looking house, a lion?? A graveyard and a typewriter

Clearly they were trying to be all Dracula up in this place.

In the bio, it simply said

> author

Enid nods, she can respect sticking to the bit. She lowkey expected a historian but vampires being authors felt fitting aswell

Well, no time like the present! Why not do some classic rp for the shits and giggles

So they start talking

Wednesday types like she doesn't know how to use simply words and well, Enid would've loved to reciprocate because damn the amount of immersion is impressive but after the fifth typo, Enid gave up

And oh, she's a woman

Enid kind of expected a dude to be trolling but when she went "hello good sir, what are you doing this fine day?"

She kind of chokes on her water when Wednesday replies with a "Its ma'am and the day is going quite horridly, the weather where I am at has the temper and I can not wait to experience it first hand."

Who in the nine hells says horridly??

But hey, Wednesday is rping a vampire, Enid can't be all pissy when she's good at it

So they text and they text for days. Maybe it's been a month and Wednesday is just as weird as always, no breaking of character at all and Enid can respect the dedication. Call it escapism but enid has fun acting like she totally would not grimace at the sight of a dead body when Wednesday talked in detail about her novel. From what she's sees, Wednesday sounds like she probably didn't have much friends due to her interests and Enid gets that, so there's no harm in indulging

Until one day, she gets invited out to hang with yoko for the weekend and since she was in such a hurry, she kind of left her phone in her house

Wednesday, old money and living in seclusion, Addams isn't taking that so well. Finally after decades, someone takes her being wholly herself and doesn't seem disgusted. Normally she didn't care, she joined this app simply because her parents insisted for some sort of social interaction outside of family

But enid was different, she didn't try to change the subject, instead she oohs and aaahs at any info Wednesday gives. It's.. Intoxicating when Enid points out how smart she must be to know these type of things. Actually! She wondered more about her family history and didn't sound at all surprised when Wednesday mentions their odd background.

"it's fitting," Enid types. "that you would come from such a strong family, I'm sure they're proud to have someone like you."

It makes a part of Wednesday soar so mayhaps she was going through something when Enid doesn't reply one day.

It goes like this

- Enid - Enid answer me, I know you never go about without your phone - Enid did someone kidnap you? I've gone through channels and none of them match your description - Have I done something wrong? Perhaps a slight that I did not know was a thing? -

"pugsley," Wednesday says, pushing open be door to his room. Her hand is tight on her phone before she slides it over with a tense jaw. "I need you to do find the location of this woman."

Pugsley peers at the screen, raising a brow at the rather nondescript pfp. In bold letters is the username: Enid

the brother agrees and just like that, Enid fate was sealed. The blond was absolutely unaware of what she just got herself into, far too busy spending time with yoko

[ascendingtostardust]

Yet To Wander

Chapter One

a/n: welcome to my first attempt at a multi-part fic! This chapter is really just a little introduction into the YTW world, I promise it’ll pick up more in the next part! Thank you for reading :)

-

“Okay, what about him?” Your best friend, Annie, tries to redirect your attention away from your phone and to the tv that was currently being used to display her phone screen as she scrolled through your tinder account.

You looked up and hummed, twisting your lips to the side as she tapped through a man named Jake’s profile. Long, slightly wavy brown hair, big brown eyes, decent fashion sense…but not quite your type.

“I don’t know, Ann, he’s just not…” you started, trying to think of a more creative way to say the same sentiment you’d been repeating about every profile she deemed worthy enough to show you.

“Not what you’re looking for, right?” she said in a mocking tone. “What are you looking for at this point? Because you don’t seem interested in any of these guys.” Annie sighed and let her phone fall to her lap, her head resting on the back of the couch.

“You haven’t let me swipe right on anyone!”

“Hey, I let you swipe right on, like, 5 guys last night! That’s pretty good!” You attempted to defend yourself, raising your eyebrows at her.

“Yeah, and then wouldn’t let me message any of them for you so they’re basically all wasted matches 24 hours later.” She sighed, closing the app and locking her phone. “This is useless, the wedding is in a week and at this rate it’s like you don’t even want to find a date.”

She turned her head to look at you, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to give her the most convincing reply you could muster up.

“That’s not true, okay? Maybe I’m just… I don’t know,” now it was you who let your head fall back to rest on the back of the couch with an exasperated sigh. “Maybe I’m just picky because I know it’s a pretty far drive to do with a stranger.”

You didn’t want to resort to a dating app to find a date for your childhood best friend’s wedding. In fact, you didn’t even want to bring a date at all when you first received the invitation and had to choose to RSVP for just you or you and a plus one. The wedding wasn’t exactly local, being almost a 24 hour drive from your home in Nashville to the city in Maine that Claire now resided in with her fiancé.

It honestly came as a surprise, the soft white envelope adorned with gold embellishments sitting in your mailbox a few months back. Despite being inseparable between the ages of 8 and 18, you hadn’t spoken to Claire since high school. Well…hadn’t spoken to her besides quick “happy birthday” texts exchanged once a year and the occasional congratulatory message sent through Instagram DMs when one of you posted about something exciting happening in your lives on your stories.

The next surprise came when you noticed that the RSVP card attached to the wedding invitation allowed you a plus one. You stuck the white cardstock to your fridge with a magnet shaped like a pink starfish, deciding that you needed more time to think before completely shutting down the idea of bringing a date.

It had been 3 years since your last relationship and even then, your last boyfriend wasn’t around for longer than a few months. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship or love, you just felt that it was more worthwhile to focus on yourself and your career at this point in your life…and so you did. You were always open to the idea of meeting someone special or going on dates, but it didn’t happen often and certainly not often enough to appease your best friend.

Annie meant well, you knew that, and sometimes you really did just need that extra little shove to get yourself out there. Her loving frustration stemmed from seeing you inadvertently push guy after guy away because ‘he just isn’t right.’ She had heard that excuse from you so many times that she resorted to simply rolling her eyes as soon as the sentiment fell from your lips.

When the time came to send your wedding RSVP card back, you let your pen hover over the box labeled ‘just me!’ while running through possible scenarios. Of course, you wouldn’t be ruining the wedding if you RSVP’d with a plus one, but you knew you’d feel guilty for throwing off the headcount and seating arrangement and anything else that was meticulously accounted for.

You’d be trapped in the car with whoever you took with you for almost 24 hours, though, so it would have to be someone you know that you like. Or would you rather go alone and brave the lonely roads and possibly sketchy hotels? Impulsively, you checked off the box next to ‘me & plus one!’ and let out a sigh of relief, closing the card in an envelope to be sent out the next day. The decision was made and now you had to figure out who was coming with you.

With the fear of flying being ever-present as you planned your trip, you knew you’d have to drive to Maine if you wanted to go to the wedding. You’d been going on solo road trips here and there since you got your license years ago, but something felt different about this trip. After asking multiple friends if they’d be willing to take the trip with you and getting rejected by all of them for one reason or another, time was running out and you knew you had to do the one thing you were dreading.

Once Annie got the go-ahead, she was downloading Tinder and creating your profile before the words even left your mouth. She chose a few of her favorite photos of you and came up with a simple, yet informative bio that said a little about you and included that you were looking for a wedding date. Where the wedding was, she didn’t include. However, she reasoned that if it’s the right guy you’ll want him to come along for the trip.

You reluctantly approved of the profile and agreed that she would only log into the account to swipe on her phone when the two of you were together to save yourself the embarrassment of her possibly looking at your flirting in the messages. Swiping through possible suitors became part of your nightly routine as roommates over the last week or so, which led you back to the present.

“Just a few more and then I promise we’ll call it quits for the night, okay?” Annie almost pleaded, giving you the look you knew she gave everyone when she wanted to get her way. “I know the guy for you is out there, I can just feel it.” She wiggled her fingers playfully at you until you motioned to the TV that still displayed the last profile you shot down.

“Go ahead, then. I hate to say it but your intuition is actually pretty scary sometimes so we’ll see.” Sinking further into the couch, you give her a streak of no’s until one profile caught your eye.

“Wait!” You reach your hand out towards your friend as if to physically stop her from swiping too quickly on the gorgeous man being projected on the screen. Sitting up straighter and tucking your legs underneath you, you take in his features. Long, silky brown hair, beautiful chocolate eyes, plush lips that formed one of the most beautiful smiles you’d ever seen.

“Hey, okay! See, that’s the kind of excitement I like to see!” Annie snaps you out of your daze and begins swiping through the man’s photos. One of him smiling with an adorable brindle pitbull and acoustic guitar on hip lap, one of him standing in knee-high, green tinted water with a beer in hand, another of him in a paddle boat with the same dog on the most beautiful blue water.

‘This guy’s too good to be true,’ you think, feeling your heart beat a little faster at the idea of possibly matching with him.

“Okay so we’re swiping right on Sam?”

Sam. Of course his name is Sam. One of the sweetest names a man could have is Sam and with his looks, of course that’s his name. It just made sense. Sam…

“Yeah…yeah I think he’s cute,” you try to play it cool but Annie can see right through you and you know, her smirk visible out of the corner of your eye as you watch her swipe right.

“And it’s a match! He already swiped right on you, too!”

“Wait, what?” Not believing it, you grab her wrist lightly to tilt her phone towards you so you can get a better look. “Why would a guy like that want to match with me?”

Annie shoots you a look, not even entertaining the idea that you deserve any less than a man ‘like that.’ Instead, she moves over to your messages in the app to open a new chat with Sam.

“No no no no! You’re not messaging him!” You attempt to grab her phone to prevent her from possibly embarrassing you in front of the beautiful stranger. “I’ll message him later or…maybe tomorrow, I don’t know but I’ll do it!”

“I’m not going to watch you let this one slip away, okay? That’s the first guy you’ve shown this much interest in since we’ve started doing this.” Your friend brings up a good point, one that really did give you a glimmer of motivation to message Sam later and see what happens.

“Okay just…can you just log out for tonight and I’ll message him when I get into bed. Is that okay with you or would you like to give me more detailed instructions?” You say playfully, moving to turn the TV off and collect your phone and water bottle to bring into your room for the night.

“Oh you’ll message him when you’re in bed? I didn’t realize you were feeling so spicy tonight!” Annie giggles, logging out of your account and grabbing her own possessions to head to bed.

“You’re impossible,” you mumble, closing your bedroom door and getting ready to go to sleep.

An hour later you found yourself laying in bed with your eyes closed, waiting for sleep that seemingly wasn’t coming. With a sigh, you roll to your side and reach for your phone to check the time and see if mindless scrolling for a few minutes might help make you drowsy. Just as your thumb came to hover over the Instagram logo, you remembered. Sam. You forgot to message Sam.

Opening Tinder, you tap to your messages and find one unread from 11:37 pm. From Sam.

‘If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber ☺️’

Well…it’s a start.

-

*check out Sam’s profile here!*

[meowjaa]

✧ waiter ✧

context: levi ackerman x fem!reader, bad date, accidental meeting, tea shop date, modern AU.

a/n: I've been getting nice comments and omg my heart can not take it but thank you for reading my stories it means so much because I really be making these at like 2am anyways excuse any spelling or punctuation errors enjoy my loves <333

Y/N sat awkwardly across from her Tinder date, Tyler, trying to make conversation but finding they had little in common. He kept checking his phone and seemed distracted as they waited for their food at the upscale restaurant.

"So…do you like living in the city?" Y/N asked, attempting another topic.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, it's fine," Tyler said dismissively, eyes glued to his phone screen.

Y/N sighed, regretting agreeing to this date already. Just then, the waiter arrived with their meals, placing each dish down gracefully. Y/N glanced up and was met with striking steel-blue eyes contrasted against jet-black hair styled in an undercut.

"Let me know if I can get anything else for you," the waiter said politely in a cold and stoic tone that most certainly sent a shiver down Y/N's spine. His name tag read "Levi."

"Oh, um, thank you!" Y/N said, not noticing she was staring in awe of the total stranger.

As Levi walked away, Y/N realized Tyler was still absorbed in his phone. She cleared her throat loudly and he finally looked up.

"Huh? Oh the food's here, cool," he said nonchalantly, immediately digging in without another word.

Y/N ate slowly, her appetite diminished by her rude date. She kept stealing glances at Levi as he delivered food and took orders at other tables. His handsome profile and graceful movements were mesmerizing.

After they had finished eating in near silence, Tyler quickly asked for the check, not even bothering to feign interest in Y/N anymore. When Levi came by, Tyler brusquely asked to pay and left cash on the table before getting up abruptly.

"Keep the change," he said to Levi, already heading for the exit.

"Wait, Tyler!" Y/N called out, but he was gone. She sat there, stunned and embarrassed "Asshole, wasting my time actually" Y/N shook her head.

"What a jerk," Levi said, collecting the money from the table. "If you want, I could always take you to this tea shop down the street" Levi added on as he reached for a napkin and wrote his number down sliding it to me.

"That'd be great, thanks" Y/N nodded her head as she smiled and stood up grabbing her purse as a group of older woman about the age of 40 or higher waving at Levi and holding up their wine cups.

"Hot waiter me and my girls need some more red wine! the expensive one too" The woman winked as she eyed Levi up and down and then turned to her girls and laughed.

I awkwardly stared at the woman before turning to Levi and nodding as a goodbye then walking out of the resturant.

At 3pm, Y/N walked into the cozy tea shop and immediately spotted Levi waiting inside.

"Hi Levi!" she said brightly.

"Y/N, glad you could make it," he greeted her with a small but warm smile.

They ordered their drinks - a black tea for Levi and a hibiscus blend for Y/N - and sat down at a table by the window.

"So how long have you worked at the restaurant?" Y/N asked, wanting to learn more about him.

"About two years now," Levi replied. "It helps pay the bills while I'm in school."

"Oh what are you studying?"

"Literature and creative writing. I've always loved books and hoped to write them someday," he shared.

"That's amazing! I was an English major too," Y/N said excitedly.

The conversation flowed easily as they discovered their shared interests in books and writing. Levi told her about his favorite authors and stories that inspired him. Y/N confessed her dream of writing a novel one day and Levi was an eager listener, asking thoughtful questions.

After talking for over an hour about their favorite books, Y/N said, "I feel like I could chat with you about literature all day, but tell me more about you! What do you like to do for fun besides reading and writing?"

Levi revealed that he enjoyed going to museums and art galleries whenever he had the time. Y/N said she loved that too and suggested they go to the new modern art exhibit together.

As they sipped their second cup of tea, their conversation shifted to movies, art, music and even a lively debate about the best tea flavors. Time passed quickly in each other's company.

Too soon the tea shop was closing. As they stepped outside, Levi turned to Y/N. "I had a really great time getting to know you today," he said, a hint of shyness in his voice.

"Me too, I'm so glad we did this," Y/N replied, cheeks flush.

"Could I see you again soon?" Levi asked hopefully.

"I'd love that!" Y/N said with a bright smile.

They exchanged numbers and Levi promised to call her to plan their next date. As Y/N walked home, she marveled at the unexpected delightful turn her day had taken. She couldn't wait to spend more time with the intriguing guy she had met over tea.

[weasleylangs]

swipe right / f.w

Summary: Finding your best friend and your biggest crush on Tinder is always awkward.  Pairing: Muggle!Fred Weasley x Muggle!Fem!Reader Warnings: Discussions of sex, language, alcohol, food/drink mention.  Word Count: 6.9k (this is the longest thing i’ve ever written)

AUTHORS NOTE / hiiiii... this is my first fic in SO long but thank you for waiting for me!!! a huge thank you to my lovely rosie @spacexcowgirl for inspiring this fic and also listening to me ramble on about it for hours on end as i was writing it and for also beta reading it guys this fic rly wouldnt exist if it wasnt for rose so.........

/ also, george’s girlfriend in the fic is named ‘em’ and she has no physical description besides also using she/her pronouns. i’m trying this out so even people who aren’t (primarily) fred simps can self insert in this fic!!!

taglist / @amourtentiaa​ @weelittleweasley​ @lumos-barnes​​ @lumosandnoxwriting​​ @loveboyhalo​​ @harrysweasleys​​ @freds-slut​​ @rcwenaclaw​​ @barneswidow​ @fandomhideout​​​

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

Y/N stared at her screen, the Tinder profile of Fred Weasley staring right back at her, teasing her ominously. She eventually decides to lock her phone to avoid the familiar and unwelcomed feelings rising in her throat. The last thing she ever expected to see during her mindless swiping at 1am was her best friend’s Tinder profile. 

She knows it’s hypocritical to feel this way but she’s also not stupid. She and Fred both have had their fair share of dates and hookups thanks to dating apps- they’re in the twenties and single after all. But she can’t shake how weird she feels finding Fred. Like she’s stumbled across something private.

Y/N unlocks her phone again, curiosity eventually making her cave after staring at her ceiling blankly for way too long. 

‘Pros: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that's a good thing). Cons: I’m an Aries (I’ve been told that’s a bad thing).’

It’s a short and simple bio, much like her own but she has to stifle a choked laugh. She and George’s girlfriend have said these to both the twins and she feels a sense of accomplishment that she can’t explain. Almost like Fred thinking of her while he sets up his dating profile means something. 

She hesitates a moment, debating between swiping left and never thinking about Fred and dating profiles ever again and swiping right just to see what happens. Y/N’s definitely making it a bigger issue than it has to be, which is why she doesn’t realise when George’s girlfriend and her roommate suddenly appears in her doorway holding chocolate.

“Em, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow?” She questions and the girl in the doorway shrugs, making her way into the room and sitting down without an invitation.

“I can vaguely hear you monologuing next door,” she laughs as she breaks a line of chocolate off the bar and hands it to Y/N. She groans, in her moment of panic she completely forgot about the fact it’s late and their bedroom walls are paper-thin. “All I heard was something about Fred and the word fuck. I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” she winks and Y/N cringes, Em’s usual 15-year-old boy humour shining through as she pops the piece of chocolate in her mouth. 

“You’re hilarious,” Y/N says rolling her eyes but she can’t deny the fondness that’s there for her best friend. “No, you’re not interrupting anything, rather the opposite actually, look.” She passes her unlocked phone to Em and Y/N wishes she could have captured the shocked look on Em's face.

“Fred has a fucking active Tinder?” She’s quickly swiping through his profile and she hates to admit he has good pictures, but when she gets to his bio she snorts and rolls her eyes. “That’s something you say, Y/N.” 

Y/N feels her face go red at Em’s comment. She’s acknowledged this already but when someone else says it she feels like she isn’t being as far fetched as she’s convinced herself. While she outright refuses to acknowledge her feelings for Fred to anyone who isn’t herself, she knows Em knows without having to tell her. Call it best friend instinct, ‘dating-his-twin-brother’ instinct, whatever she pleases, which is why when there’s a mischievous glint in Em’s eyes, Y/N immediately is reaching for her phone. “No.”

Em whines, rolling onto her back. “Why not, you’re so boring!” 

“I am not swiping right on Frederick fucking Weasley.” She feels her face becoming warmer as she says it. Em gives her a look as if to say ‘I believe you’ with a glint in her eye that makes Y/N know she doesn’t. “I’m just never going to open the app again!”

Em rolls her eyes but the fond smile on her face is unmistakable. “And do what, love?” 

Y/N falters for a second before shrugging. “Not perceive his profile. It’ll be gone into the abyss of people who live in London and I’ll never think about it again.” She’s smiling, thinking she’s concocted the most perfect plan.

-----

It wasn’t the most perfect plan, for when Y/N is hanging out with Fred two days later she’s faced yet again with the ‘Tinder Predicament’ as dubbed by Em. Fred and Y/N are sitting in their favourite park, the new spring weather of London on their skin as they soak up the friendly sun rays after a harsh winter. Y/N is laying on her stomach, the book open but she’s barely reading as she pretends to listen to Fred ramble on about only God knows what. 

It’s 11am, not too early for the park to be empty but busy enough that other people are turning up, mostly couples. Y/N tunes Fred out, quickly getting lost in her own thoughts. Do other people think we’re a couple? she thinks to herself. She knows if Em could read her mind she’d say yes and Y/N is quick to push the thought out of her mind. 

Everything is interrupted when her phone lights up with a ‘You’ve got a new match!’ notification and before she can hide it from prying eyes, Fred’s wolf-whistling. 

“You’ve got dating apps, do ya, Y/L/N?” he teases and Y/N wants the Earth to swallow her up, she can’t think of a worse situation to be in. 

“Yeah, don’t you?” The second the words leave her mouth she regrets them. Fred’s smirking at her, a signature smirk of his he only does when she knows he’s up to something. Unfortunately for her, she is on the receiving end of that something.

“Something along the lines of ‘looking for a golden retriever boy?’. Ring any bells, darling?” Y/N feels her blood drain from her body and Fred releases a laugh that can only be described as a full-body chortle. “You know I have one, darling. Besides, you popped up last night. I already knew.” 

Y/N groans. This shouldn’t be as embarrassing as it feels but it’s Fred and knowing Fred has seen her dating profile was low on her wishes for this week, or for her entire life for that matter. 

“Did you at least swipe right on me?” 

It’s said with a teasing manner, falling right out of Y/N’s mouth before she can stop it. Her curiosity always gets the best of her and she wants to kick herself for it. But she doesn’t even notice Fred’s slight falter, the red tint kissing his cheeks and emphasising the freckles across his face at the comment. “You’ll have to swipe right on me to find out.” 

She can’t tell if he’s joking. But Fred is always joking. So she laughs and pushes him slightly, “If I come across your Tinder profile, I’m reporting it.” 

“It would be a blessing from the universe for you to come across my dating profile. I’m sure you’d appreciate my bio.” 

“Let me guess. ‘6’3 if it matters’?” Fred scowls looking down at her and she knows she looks way too proud for that comment but she doesn’t care and after a few seconds, Fred doesn’t care either. He starts to feel a small shred of jealousy from knowing Y/N has a Tinder profile, but he swallows it, tabling it for later when he isn’t with her.

“Why do you have the app?” He blurts out, annoyed at himself for letting it slip out. “Just… Curious, y’know?” He adds on when he notices Y/N looking up at him with an eyebrow raised. He doesn’t really want to know, but the words are out there and the cute scrunch of Y/N’s nose as she thinks of an answer almost makes it worth it.

“Male validation, mostly,” she laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck when she hears Fred laugh along with her. “I don’t know, Freddie.” She says, exasperatedly. “I barely use it. What about you?”

“Sex, if I’m honest.” Now it’s his turn to awkwardly laugh because he knows he answered that way too quickly and a little too honest for his own comfort. Y/N’s been his best friend for years, probably knows him best besides George but she didn’t really need to know he uses his Tinder profile to hook up with people. 

When Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, Fred takes it badly. He knows she would never judge him, not about anything and especially not this, but his thoughts get the best of him and sometimes he can’t help it. He has no idea Y/N is in her own head, jealous other girls get to hold Fred at a distance closer than she ever will. 

He clears his throat and checks his phone to see no notifications besides a direct message from Lee Jordan. He knows George isn’t expecting him home- cursing his brother when he remembers George demanded the flat to himself (and in turn, also Em) today for a few hours. “Hey, uh. I’ve gotta go. Emergency with George apparently.” 

He knows he shouldn’t have lied, it’s not even a good lie but it was the first thing he thought of. He notices Y/N’s eyebrows furrow before she shrugs, nodding before closing her book. “That’s okay, I was getting tired anyway. I might pop back to my flat for a nap.” 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fred asks and his chest feels warm when Y/N meets his face with a smile. 

“Of course, Freddie.” 

She watches Fred leave, her thoughts getting the best of her. She knows for a fact there is no ‘George emergency’- she knows George is with Em probably being sick and in love and she’s sure Fred knows this too. The realisation Fred made an excuse to not spend time with her hits her like a truck, her mind frantically searching for what she could’ve possibly done to upset her best friend. 

“Fuck,” she whispers to herself, the second she realises.

-----

To: Em > if you come home tonight dont mind me being drunk x 

Y/N sends the text as she stands in the kitchen, pouring herself her second glass of wine before it has even hit 6pm. On her way home, she stopped by the liquor store, picked up her favourite wine and decided to drink away the anxieties of upsetting Fred.

From: Em > ill be home. ill pick up chinese on the way. save me some wine!!! x

She smiles down at her phone, knowing Em would always be there without even realising it. She sits down on their couch and turns on the television- old reruns of early 2000s sitcoms playing on almost every channel. 

It’s 20 minutes late when Em turns up. She’s nursing the Chinese food as if it’s a child as she tries to unlock the front door without dropping the food or her bottle of wine. She smiles proudly at Y/N the second she gets in, putting the food on the table before she grabs her own wine glass. 

“What happened today?” 

Y/N is caught off guard but she shouldn’t be shocked. She doesn’t usually drink and when she does, it’s very rarely without Em. “Nothing’s wrong!” she says, skulling the rest of her wine when Em gives her a knowing look.

“You were with Fred today and now you’re sad drinking. What happened?” Usually, she loves when Em is her all-knowing best friend, but right now she wishes she’d shut up. 

“Nothing happened!” She’s adamant to not say too much. She knows it’s probably all in her head, that she and Fred will be fine in a few days but when Em gives her one more knowing look, she breaks. “Okay, fine. I think I upset him today.” 

Em’s confused, to say the least. Fred, for as long as she has known him, has never been upset with Y/N- even on accident. She has the tall redhead wrapped around her finger. “How?” she questions, because she truly can’t think of a single thing that Y/N could do to hurt him. 

Em places Y/N’s food in front of her when she starts speaking. “We were talking about Tinder- don’t give me that look he saw a notification and it came up and he asked why I had it. I said I don’t know and when I asked him, he said he uses it for sex,” Y/N says softly, pouring herself another glass of wine before continuing. “I didn’t say anything when he said that, because… Well… You know why.” 

Em does know. She knew the second she became Y/N’s roommate their first year of University that she had feelings for Fred and she knew immediately Fred liked her too but Y/N’s never believed her. “You think he got upset you didn’t say anything about sex?” 

“I think he thinks I was being judgemental.” Em sighs at Y/N’s response. She loves both her best friends- they’re her favourite people besides George but she knows they can be idiots. They sit in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the forks against their Chinese containers before Em grab’s Y/N’s phone, unlocking it.

“Well if Fred’s using Tinder for sex, so should you!” she says matter-of-factly and when Y/N groans from the kitchen sink, Em speaks again. “It’s true! He likes you but won’t tell you, you like him but won’t tell anyone! Who’s a good meaningless shag going to hurt?” 

That’s how they end up in Em’s bed, cuddling under the duvet with ice cream and Y/N’s Tinder profile open on her phone. “You’re so fucking picky, holy shit,” Em says when Y/N scrunches her nose up at the sixth consecutive guy. “It’s a shag, not a hand in marriage, love.”

“They don’t do it for me!” Y/N is avoiding the elephant in the room- that she’s comparing every guy that pops up to Fred. “I have to be attracted to them for this meaningless shag you’re preaching about… See, he’s cute!” His name’s Cormac, he’s 21 so only a few years younger than Y/N and he’s not bad looking. 

“He looks like a douchebag!” Em exclaims and Y/N groans. 

“You told me to stop being picky!” 

“Stop being picky doesn’t mean saying yes to the first conventionally attractive guy we see!” Em exclaims as she swipes left on poor Cormac. Y/N gets up to pour herself and Em one more glass of wine each and she hears Em starting giggling to herself when the new profile shows up, hiding the phone from Y/N’s eyes when she walks over. Without even questioning Y/N, Em swipes right and immediately she starts howling laughing. 

‘New Match!’ the screen reads and Y/N feels her breath hitch when snatches the phone from Em’s hands and she sees who she matched with.

Fred, 24. 2km away.

“I remembered after dinner, you said he told you to swipe right to see what he did,” Em says proudly, and Y/N regrets even mentioning it to Em offhandedly. Y/N’s eyes are transfixed on the tiny screen. There’s no way he seriously swiped right, she’s sure it’s only a joke- people jokingly match with their friends all the time. “So here you go, Freddie swiped right on my lil Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shakes her head at this. “I’m sure he only did it as a joke. People do that when they find their friends on Tinder all the time!” she says, sitting back down on the bed and cuddling up next to Em. “You were telling me to swipe right on him last night, after all.” 

Em looks at Y/N and sighs, clearly sensing how uncomfortable Y/N is feeling right now from the confrontation of her feelings for Fred. “I was telling you to swipe right because I know you’re in love with him,” she says softly, not missing the way Y/N’s eyes soften at the mention of her feelings for Fred. “I’m sorry if I’d known-”

“Don’t apologise! I’m just going to ignore the fact we matched,” she says softly, unlocking her phone and immediately exiting from Fred’s profile. The tension from a few moments ago quickly dissipates as Y/N receives another match, this time from a boy named Neville who Y/N knows is friends with Fred’s little brother. 

“When did you swipe on Nev?” Em asks and Y/N shrugs. She knows she probably did it to be funny, like what she thinks Fred’s done to her, but the more she thinks about it, Neville isn’t a bad match. He’s nice, friendly and now he’s in his twenties, he isn’t bad looking either.  

“Nev’s sweet. If he asked me out I’d say yes.” She says. She isn’t lying- there’s been times she’s considered going on dates to avoid her feelings for Fred, to get over him once and for all but whenever it gets to that point, she chickens out. “I know you want a meaningless shag, but I think maybe a date would be a good idea. You know?”

Em nods, pulling Y/N closer to cuddle her and suddenly feeling bad about preaching for meaningless sex. “Maybe you’re more of a date before shagging kind of girl, and that’s okay.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

-----

Em’s fast asleep and Y/N’s overthinking next to her when she gets a message from a match. Y/N rolls her eyes when she sees the time reads 2am; knowing whoever's messaging at this time is just looking for a booty call but she opens the notification nonetheless.

From: Fred > i can be a golden retriever boy :) 

She smiles at the message, Fred’s presence always does that to her. She never expected him to message her on tinder considering she’s convinced it was just a joke swipe right, but this is probably just a joking message too. She checks his bio is still the same Aries joke before quickly replying.  

To: Fred > good thing im a big aries fan then ;)  > how tall are you though? im sure youre well aware it matters

She hopes Fred laughs at her messages because making Fred laugh is her favourite pastime. The three dots signalling Fred’s typing pops up and her heart starts to race.

From: Fred

> im 7���5 if its that important :/ 

She giggles and when doesn’t know how to reply after that, she exits out of their messages, but it’s not like she has to keep a conversation with Fred going. She’s trying to think of a funny message to send Fred when she gets another message; this time from Neville.

From: Neville > hi Y/N! i hope this isnt a weird time to message you, i just finished grading some work. i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime this week? we were kind of friends at school, after all, and it’ll be nice to catch up :) 

The message from Neville is sweet, and she almost feels guilty reading it. Attached is his number and everything and Y/N feels her throat closing up. She would feel terrible going on a date with Neville despite what she claimed earlier, knowing her heart currently belongs to Fred. 

But Fred’s lack of interest in her is eating at her as much as her own feelings for him do, and she knows she deserves better than to sit around and wait for him any longer. If Em was awake the date would already be confirmed, she knows that much so she decides to say yes to Neville, to at least put herself out there. She can imagine the little Devil version of Em dancing on her shoulder as she begins to type out a reply to Neville.

She doesn’t even think to look at who it’s being sent to before clicking send. But by then it’s too late- she doesn’t even know how she ended up back in Fred’s messages but now she wants to roll up into a ball and die.

To: Fred > hi neville! id love to grab dinner one day, here’s my number and we can organise it tomorrow because im going to bed now! x

She’s staring at the message for so long she doesn’t even notice the ‘???’ she gets back from Fred. She quickly copies and pastes the message to the right recipient this time before plugging in her phone and rolling over to sleep.

Em’s slight snoring lulls her to sleep, thoughts of Fred filling her mind before she passes out for the night. What she doesn’t know is that while she falls asleep, Fred lays awake, staring at his ceiling. Contemplating the knowledge he has knowing Y/N’s potentially organising a date with one of  his little brother’s best friends. 

-----

Fred hates this feeling; this feeling of jealousy in his stomach that’s threatening to spill out of his throat. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about Y/N accidentally messaging him about a date with another person all morning and he knows George is getting annoyed with him. 

“Why are you being such a prat this morning?” George had asked when Fred scowled at his brother for simply standing in the kitchen. Fred had huffed as a reply, grabbing the milk for his tea before sitting down at their table to munch on his toast.

“Not being a prat,” he says, words muffled by the food in his mouth and George gives him a disgusted look before taking a bite of his own toast. “Do you remember Neville Longbottom?” 

George nods, of course, he knows Neville. “Ron’s friend? Super nice bloke. Think him and Hannah Abbott just broke up, why?” 

Fred shrugs, he’s almost positive it’s the same Neville now. “Think Y/N’s going on a date with him, that’s all.” When George raises his eyebrows, Fred speaks again, “Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going on a date with a prat.”

“Wanted to know who she is going on a date with in general, more like it,” George mutters under his breath. He knows Fred better than he knows anybody, better than he knows his girlfriend and almost better than he knows himself. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

Fred squints at George. “Why would I be jealous?” Fred stands and makes his way to the kitchen to wash up his dishes and he almost drops them in the sink when George speaks again.

“Because you’re in love with Y/N?” He says it so casually Fred almost chokes on air. He’s never thought about himself and Y/N in that way. Sure they like to cuddle when they’re drunk and they spend every waking moment together but he’s not in love with Y/N.

Is he?

“What makes you say that?” Fred asks quietly, hoping to hide the red blush forming on his cheeks. George might be his best friend and twin brother but he knows he would never live it down admitting he has feelings for Y/N. 

“You two are worse than Em and I, and we’re actually dating,” George speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When Em first met Y/N, she asked how long you and she had been together for, mate.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Fred says a little too quickly. 

“I’m sure it doesn’t, Freddie,” George smirks as he speaks, getting up to wash his dishes now. Fred stands in the kitchen, nursing his cup of tea as he contemplates George’s words. Sure, he always knew he had some kind of feelings for his best friend, but being in love was another whole ordeal. It means wanting long term commitment, probably a house together, maybe marriage, perhaps kids if Y/N wanted them and the longer Fred sits with these in his mind, he quickly realises he does want all that and even more with Y/N. He’s probably wanted it with her for a while and he just hasn’t ever realised.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, low enough for George not to hear but when Fred doesn’t have a rebuttal to George’s words he knows he’s accidentally sent Fred into an existential crisis. 

“Look, Fred. If Y/N going on a date bothers you, you need to tell her.” George knows he’s about to cross some lines that he promised himself he would never cross but it’s getting dire in his eyes. “Y/N likes you and deep down you know you like her too, even if you’re oblivious. She deserves to know and if you’re too much of a chicken to admit it to her, then you don’t get to be bothered about her going on a date with Neville Longbottom.” 

Fred huffs. He knows George is right, but he can’t help but feel like he truly noticed too late. He swiped right on her on Tinder hoping she would swipe right back and they could go from there. But he knows Y/N only swiped right to see if he had done it first, that she only swiped right out of curiosity and right now, Fred is cursing the app under his breath. 

“Well, fine, yes I like Y/N, but I can’t just stop her from going on a date. That’s controlling and mean.” Fred states and George just sighs. “I’ll talk to her after her date, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

George stares at him. “Since when are you mister Que sera, sera, Freddie?” Fred shrugs, not understanding the reference George made. “Since when are you just letting it happen?” George translates when he notices the blank stare on Fred’s face.

“Since right now. I don’t want to come off controlling to Y/N.” Fred says. In actuality, even though he knows George would never lie to him, he’s scared. Y/N is his best friend and the last thing he ever wants to do is ruin his closest friendship all because of some jealousy. 

“Okay fine, but if she gets a boyfriend, I’m sorry mate,” George says and he knows putting the threat of losing Y/N romantically on the line is harsh, but it’s what he has to do. He’s watched the pair pine for each other for years and he’s sure this is the last straw. 

“We’re going out with the lads in a few days, by the way! Maybe you can stop moping enough for a shag!” George calls out and Fred flips him the finger as he walks off to his bedroom. 

-----

Y/N and Neville decide on getting dinner together three days later. It’s a Friday so neither of them has to worry about work or coursework the next day, which is perfect. Neville tells Y/N about his favourite Italian restaurant right near Old Street subway station in Shoreditch, so that’s where the pair decide to meet. 

It’s rather busy when Y/N gets to the station. Neville has apologised profusely for still being fifteen minutes away but she reassures him it’s fine and that she’ll meet him outside the station so they can walk to the restaurant together. 

Y/N’s on her phone, texting Em and telling her she’s safe when she feels a presence next to her. She tenses up quickly but she soon relaxes when she looks at the person next to her and realises it’s Fred. 

“Hi,” she says, smiling. She hasn’t seen him since the day in the park, but they’ve texted and called so she’s sure everything is fine. “What are you doing all the way on this side of London?” 

Fred smiles and shoves his hands in his jeans pocket before replying, “Grabbing a drink with the lads tonight, love. What about you?” His tone is casual and Y/N has to stop herself from checking him out. He’s dressed in a nice dress shirt, it’s orange and on anyone else, it would clash with his hair but Fred somehow manages to pull it off. He’s got a black jacket over the top of his shirt, alongside black jeans that show off his long and muscular legs on and his outfit is paired off with a pair of boots on his feet. 

He’s not making it easy to get over him, that’s for sure. 

“I’ve got a date,” she’s shy when she says it, looking away from Fred and then back down at her phone. The time reads 6:47pm and Neville’s train will be getting in any second now. She’s trying to get over Fred and the last thing she needs is Fred lingering when said date turns up. 

“Ah yes, with Neville, if I remember correctly,” Fred’s teasing and Y/N has to force a laugh out. She blocked out the fact she’d accidentally messaged him instead of Neville and was hoping he would forget as well. But this is Fred she was talking about, and Fred never lets up a chance to tease Y/N for something.

“Yeah, Neville Longbottom,” she says and she catches the look of recognition that flashes across Fred’s face. “He was friends with your brother in school.” 

Fred nods in acknowledgement while he can’t decide whether or not he’s happy with the confirmation that he was right. He’s sad and jealous, that much is obvious, but he’s a little happy. Happy that even though Y/N is going on a date with someone who isn’t himself, it’s someone he knows would treat her like she deserves. 

“Neville’s a good guy, I’m happy for you,” he forces out and Y/N smiles up at Fred and he wants to sink into the Earth. The smile on her face is one he wants to be the cause for forever. “I should get going, tell Nev hello for me!”

He pulls Y/N into a quick hug, presses a quick kiss absentmindedly on the top of her head before letting her go and crossing the street and making his way to the bar he’s meeting Lee, George, Harry and Ron at. 

Y/N watches him leave, dumbfounded. The kiss on the top of her head is nothing less than usual; Fred’s always been touchy with her but now it feels weird. All she wants is to call out to Fred and demand the redhead take her on a date instead. 

But before Y/N can do anything drastic, she hears Neville call out her name and she turns around quickly. He’s just as sweet and cute as she remembers and even if she wishes Fred was the boy she was on a date with, Neville is someone she would be friends with above anything. 

“I hope you weren’t waiting too long!” He says when he reaches her, kissing her cheek as Y/N pulls him into a hug. His presence is comforting and he smells like cinnamon and Y/N feels herself instantly relax.

“Not too long!” She replies as she begins walking towards the restaurant with Neville. During Spring, the cold weather still returns at night so their hands are shoved inside their jacket pockets to keep warm but they’re walking closely together. “I ran into Fred just before, so he kept me company.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Neville says as he grabs the door to the restaurant, “can’t have a pretty girl waiting outside a subway station alone.” Y/N feels her cheeks heat up at his comment. 

They’re quickly seated and wine is ordered. They’ve been placed in a booth right near the window, where they’re able to watch the City of London go by. “How’s teaching going?” Y/N asks when she remembers Neville recently graduated and got an immediate job offer at the Agriculture department at a college in Surrey. 

“It’s going well! I specifically teach the floriculture courses so I love it, of course,” Neville’s smile couldn’t get any wider. Y/N specifically remembers his constant fascination with plants and flowers in school and she couldn’t be happier for him to be doing what he so clearly loves, “What about you?” 

“Being hammered by my postgrad coursework,” she says, laughing and taking a sip of her wine. “My job at the bookstore near my flat doesn’t suck but I definitely don’t work as much as I used to, unfortunately.” Neville raises his glass, almost to say I’ll drink to that when the waiter comes over to take their order.

Dinner goes quickly, conversation flows easily between the two and soon enough the bill arrives and Neville grabs the cheque before Y/N can even say anything. “You can grab it next time.” 

Y/N falters at this. She knows she should say something to Neville; that this has been nice but there won’t be a second date. She’s too caught up in her panic and she’s beginning to curse Fred Weasley under her breath when Neville gently places his hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the restaurant. 

“Are you okay?” Neville asks when they get outside. He noticed the tensed look on Y/N’s face the second they got outside and when she nods and sighs he takes it as a sign to stop walking.

“This has been nice, Nev,” she starts and she feels terrible even though she knows it’s better, to be honest. “But I don’t think I’m-”

“Ready for a relationship?” Neville finishes for her, and he’s not condescending when he says it. He could tell even before dinner was finished that she probably felt that way and he doesn’t mind. “I don’t think I am either. But this was fun, was it not?” 

Y/N nods, smiling as the anxieties of hurting Neville wash away. “It was fun!” she says, “I hope we can do it again. Even as friends?” 

He nods back, a warm smile gracing his cheeks. “Of course.”

They walk back to the station together, promises of seeing each other again soon leaves their mouths as they walk to their respective platforms. 

From: Neville  > thanks for tonight. i forgot to mention, please tell me when you’re home safe!

She smiles down at the text, shooting Neville a reply of reassurance that she will before opening her messages with Em to let her know she’s on her way home. She’s jumping through her apps, Snapchat that she only uses for filters, Facebook she only uses to check the ‘Dogspotting’ group until she lands on Instagram. 

She sees a story from George and when she opens it, she immediately regrets it. It’s their friendship group, that much she expected but she sees a girl sitting next to Fred nursing what looks like a Gin and Tonic and Y/N feels sick. 

She immediately closes the app, pretending she didn’t see it. She has no right to be upset over this but it plagues her thoughts for the entire subway trip home.

That’s when she decides she’s going to demand answers from Fred. She doesn’t know how, or when or if she’ll even do it without Em forcing her to, but she knows she deserves better. That she doesn’t deserve to hang on the end of every touch, every word of Fred’s in hopes he’ll hold her closer than arm's length while she desperately wants more. 

-----

The next night, Fred’s laying on his couch in an uncomfortable position searching Netflix at 10pm when he hears a knock at the front door. He knows it isn’t George, or any member of his family for that matter and any normal person would ring before coming over this late at night. So when Fred gets up and looks through his peephole to ensure he’s not about to be murdered, he’s shocked to see an angry-looking Y/N.  

He opens the door and she’s immediately inside, pushing past Fred’s body and when she turns around, she has the most determined look on her face he’s ever seen. 

“I’m annoyed at you.” Fred’s taken aback, he tries to think back at their interaction the evening before, trying to piece together anything that would annoy Y/N but he’s coming up blank.

“What did I do?” He wearily asks and when Y/N purses her lips together and looks like she’s about to cry Fred has to resist the urge to apologise without knowing what he needs to apologise for.

“I’m annoyed at you because,” she pauses and takes a shaky breath, “I’m annoyed because I went on a date last night. I went on a date with the loveliest man I’ve ever met. And I spent the whole fucking time wishing I was on a date with you. And I’ve spent all of today debating coming over here and telling you that so I drank half of Em’s bottle of wine for some liquid courage and here I fucking am!” 

That’s the last thing Fred was expecting to come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Well, that’s not-” 

“I’m not finished.” She stares at Fred and he immediately shuts up. 

“I’ve been in love with you for years and it’s not fair on me anymore, Freddie.” Her voice is shaking like she needs to get everything out as soon as possible. “I need to know if you feel anything for me, even in the slightest, because if I need to move on, I’m begging you to be honest with me.” 

Fred feels his heartbreak at how sweet, how broken, how defeated Y/N looked standing in front of him right now. He can see the need for an honest answer swimming in Y/N’s eyes and he’s never felt braver to admit his feelings than he does right now.

“I’m an idiot,” Y/N scoffs but lets him continue, “because I didn’t realise how fucking in love with you I am until I almost lost you. I thought…” he pauses, looking for the right words and when his eyes meet Y/N’s, there’s a softness there that wasn’t there previously. “I thought what we had was normal; the cuddling, the constant need to be with each other, the constant subtle touches. But George knocked some sense into me.” Y/N lets out a breath as she laughs, of course, it was George’s doing.

“I’m in love with you, and I think I have been since we were 17. So I’m so fucking sorry, for ever letting you think you meant any less to me, my love.” 

Y/N’s eyes are overflowing with tears at his words and Fred panics for a second before he sees the biggest and most loving smile overtake Y/N’s face. “Fucking hell, you big dummy.” 

She crosses the room, quicker than she’s ever moved before and pulls Fred’s 6’3 frame into her arms. She feels Fred pull her away, only slightly, so he can look down into her eyes and cup her cheek with his hand. His thumb is providing comfort as it strokes across her cheek and wiping away any stray tears. 

She cups the outside of his hand with her own and brings her face to the side to kiss his palm. This is the closest the two have ever been and both their hearts feel like they could beat out of their chests at any moment. It’s the adrenaline from this moment that causes Fred to blurt out his next question, without any hesitation.

“Can I please kiss you before I die?” 

Y/N laughs as she looks up at Fred. She doesn’t even give him an answer, she just pulls the tall boy down before locking their lips together. They’ve both kissed plenty of people, had many first kisses whether it be with first dates or partners but they can both agree this is the best kiss either of them has ever experienced. 

Y/N is pouring everything she can into the kiss, knowing she will never get tired of the taste of caramel that she will forever associate with kissing the love of her life. She presses her lips harder against his, her tongue running along Fred’s chapped lips asking for more before he opens his mouth to massage his tongue with hers. 

Fred decides to be a tease, pulling back slightly before capturing her lips again and biting her bottom lip slightly. This action pulls a moan from Y/N’s throat, soft enough that Fred almost misses it but he can’t help but smirk into the kiss. He wants nothing more than to kiss Y/N for the rest of his life, but eventually, he has to pull away to catch his breath and the whine that leaves Y/N’s mouth might be the cutest sound he’s ever heard in his life. 

“I hope to God you know I’m never letting you kiss anyone else ever again, holy shit,” she says, cheeks flushed red and when she looks at Fred she thinks she’s fallen even further in love with him. His hair’s messy, thanks to her running her hands through it and his lips are slightly swollen. She thinks this might be the most beautiful she’s ever seen Fred in her life and if this is how gorgeous he looks after a few minutes of kissing, she’s secretly anticipating how gorgeous he’s going to look laying in her bed, naked. 

Fred smiles dopily down at her, “Don’t worry darling, I never want to be with someone who isn’t you ever again.”

[yostresswritinggirl]

Seers' Miscellany

Prologue: Origins of the first bloom

A circular fic for the Dainsleif mini-series I'll be working on. This will be the introduction; of the evanescent bough keeper of the new world. "Observers of the North do not usually wind up in personal business, but when they do, in their wake comes great shifting of the plates of the timelines." Logs of the stag and the delicate flower.

Pairings -> Dainsleif x Reader; Reader is NOT Traveler

Word Count -> 1579

Themes -> Pretty sad, but also fluffy

Chapters -> 1

Warnings -> Story progression takes a while, oh dear why am I doing this now, I'm so busy

"500 mora; and three answered questions."

He's not really sure what lead him to indulge the requests of a simple adventurer when he made his rounds around the city of freedom. Was it the simple need for currency? It couldn't be, he was better off with other commissions that Katheryne could offer.

Was it the desperation in your voice and eyes? You looked at him like a prophet, your only salvation, and perhaps in this context that may be true. You were but a lone adventurer and the way your weight leans heavier on one foot shows your struggle to those who have keen eyes like him, no other person wished to indulge your needs and you were getting desperate.

Or was it the three questions? Dainsleif have yet to hear such contractual obligations before, but it felt as tho it was the most important part of the agreement he took the moment you pleaded with that soft voice. Humble yet resolved, not letting him walk away without at least considering it once.

And so he found himself traversing the land of the wolves through a dangerous path, where you skip ahead with a gait of happiness, bubbly and energetic enough to surpass even his long legs. You hummed without consideration at the glee of finally having a companion, and he did not mind it at the slightest despite the attention it may bring upon your little party.

"First question," Dainsleif fleeted his gaze away from the horizon to turn to you whom slowed your pace to match his, head looking over your shoulder with a wide grin. "How are you?" So innocent.

He huffs in amusement, the most emotion you've seen of him. "You don't need to waste a contract question for such a simple question, you know," he stands behind you as you crouch down on a shrubbery filled with Wolfhooks. Your main objective for visiting Wolvendom in the first place.

You assured him that you meant your question in every way possible as your hands carefully pick at the herbs, wary of the thorns and the intrusive prickly leaves. Despite your attention turned away from him he knows you await his answer. Dainsleif hums to himself and stops—

How is he? What does he truly feel in this moment of his time?

A simple question yet risked for one of the three inquiries agreed upon definitely holds a deeper meaning. His train of spiraling thoughts halts upon the sound of otherwordly grunts and chants as he turns away from your still busy form (you seem very focused on your foraging) to find three Hilichurls approaching with ill intent.

Dainsleif squints at the impending threat before shooting a final glance to make sure you weren't looking. His arm glows blue as he raises it, power in the form of blue swirling mist surges around him - how are you? The feeling brings him back to vague memories of his past, of the energy rising through him at his expeditions with an old companion, of the thrill spent upon encountering the unexpected. Such thoughts are not vivid but the familiarity of what he is experiencing right now was enough for him.

Though he was sure that there were no camps before they went through this route.

"You asked me how I am," he spoke when you finally turned from the bush with an armful of Wolfhooks on your arsenal, confusion on your face at the sight of downed Hilichurls and the side profile of the bough keeper.

His cerulean eyes were fixated at his left hand that he repeatedly closes and opens for a few seconds, before he fully turns to you (your eyes did not miss the blue glow from underneath his cape, where his right arm should be) with a wisp of a smile, "I feel alive right now."

You reciprocated the gesture with a wide grin, "I'm glad to hear that!"

A majority of the wolfhooks gathered where given to the little Botanist Chloris, the seller of flowers, who looked relieved and ecstatic upon your arrival. Something Dainsleif took great notice of. Carefully handing over the berries and some which you had to pluck singularly from your companion's flowy cape, the little girl gave you her Valberries in exchange.

It was sweet and familiar, something Dainsleif took note as he accepted your offer of the fruit despite his none need for sustenance.

Your little chewing sounded through as you two settled on the humble camp you managed to setup with your supply for a single individual. There was a little hole in the middle for a campfire Dainsleif had made the effort to prepare knowing the coldness the night will bring soon enough, and your fragile form is not something he wishes to bargain now. Is that really the reason? Perhaps in the back of his mind, he was really just working on forgotten routines.

"Second question," his footstep at the edge of the camp halts as he turns once again, where you sat on the mat as tonight's bedding, hands flicking to remove the stray juices of the berries. He stood still in wait before he goes back to his mini mission of getting fire wood.

"Go on," he urged when you stood a minute longer in silence.

"Do you like traveling, Dain?" Easy enough, he simply said yes and left when you ended the conversation with a nod.

When he came back with the wood and tinder bundle for easy spreading, out of the corner of his eye he watched your hands work on the mortal and pestle as you grinded the remaining wolfhooks on your person. The fire started the moment he was done setting up the kindling and your face filled with admiration at the sudden and immediate spark, praising him for his quick work.

Dainsleif is both talkative and not, and at times he finds himself rambling to the wind. The moments of the night passed without much details until he found himself talking about his past adventures with his old companion, of the world they've seen together and the now estranged relationship between them.

His responses were sometimes cryptic unintentionally, and he apologizes when there are things about it that he couldn't answer simply because he could not remember. When silence struck after he finished his tales and meal, the beautiful spike in his eyes found yours gleaming despite the drowsiness pulling at your whole feature.

"I'm glad you're very fond of traveling. If not, I wouldn't have met you," and he wouldn't have taken the commission. Dainsleif's eyes flashed in recognition, finally understanding the meaning behind your second question. Somehow this little commission deal turned into a silent back and forth quip of him understanding past your simple inquiries.

Like a little game he muses on with his curious mind.

That night you rested with the extra comfort of his eccentric cape, something you needed more than him as he gazes over the clear night sky. His eyes silently traced the galaxy of stars while the sound of your whispered breathing accompanies his sleepless night.

The last question and that last of your very quick expedition came the next day at the cliffside overlooking the lair sealed by winds.

Your fingers were dusted by the violet paste of grinded wolfhooks long consumed the night prior, stained fingers gripping the thin and fragile stem of the yellow dandelion in its grasp. It was his great observation that let him realize the disaster that happened now but even his foresight could not prepare him for what has to come.

"Third question," his head snapped down to watch your ethereal face don a calm smile, the sun's setting light kissing your cheeks in the right angle that matched that of the clean clouds above. Your eyes silently questioned his unfocused gaze but he only shook his head.

Don't worry about it. "I know this last question would end the commission with you," your voice trembled in both fear and fatigue but Dainsleif didn't force you to preserve your strength like he should. "But I wanted to ask, maybe tomorrow again,

do you want to be my traveling companion?"

The hand that clutched the Dandelion found it way to the side of his mask, the petals brushing against his eyelids as he looks down at you with an eye. A ghost of a smile lingers on his lips as he leans on your hand.

"It would be my pleasure."

Life momentarily flashed over your orbs before you let out a sharp exhale and a breathless, joyous laughter. Relief overtook the tension that laid on your shoulders, and your hand would have dropped to the ground immediately if he had not gripped it on the last second.

"That sounds good. I've always wanted to travel the world," he pulls the cape closer around your form as your eyelids droop to a close. And he witness another breathe, "It was supposed to be today, but I feel really tired today, I'll rest early too if that's okay."

He rose from the ground with you in his arms, "I'll be here."

"Mmm thank you... good... night."

"Good night, little dandelion."

And perhaps that distant memory from faraway had urged him to invite and indulge, when he saw the same spark of intrigue and desperation, of the warmth of carefree days in front of him.

"But I will require advance payment,

500 Mora, and three answered questions."

Dainsleif SUPREMACY MWAHAHAHAHAH

@genshin-idiot : here's your Dainsleif content

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @lehra @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan

[sunflowergirl522]

Tinder Match 8

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You look at the older people on Tinder joking about finding a sugar daddy. That’s when you stumble upon a man claiming to be 106. Intrigued you swipe right and match with him.

Warnings: Language tfatws spoilers

Word count: 1281

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Can we get out of here please?” Bucky says to Sharon before turning to Sam and sending him a nod.

“Hey, Buck?” 

“Yeah?”

“You said you wanted me to meet someone? Who is it?” Bucky can’t help the smile that stretches across his face.

“Let me get Sharon somewhere to heal up and you deal with whatever he wants.” He motions with his head to the man waiting to speak to Sam beside the ambulance. “I’ll send you the address to meet at.” Sam gives him a nod before they both part ways.

Meanwhile you’re getting ready to pop open some champagne to celebrate the new Captain America while your friends are trying to convince you to just put the bottle away.

“Y/n I’m not taking care of drunk you again that was too much to handle. Just give me the bottle and you can open it up when James gets back.” Peter says as he tries to reason with you to put the bottle in his outstretched hand.

“But I want to celebrate now. What if he doesn’t come back?”

“I’m sure he will, he said he’d be here after he took care of his thing.” Peter wasn’t going to bring up how he was very clearly on the news but you didn’t notice it because you were too excited about Sam being Captain America.

“Okay fine.” You hand it to him and get off of your coffee table that you were standing on ready to spray champagne everywhere. But when there’s a knock at your door that you immediately recognize as James you jump up from the seat you had just taken and grab the bottle back from Peter. “That’s him time to fucking celebrate!”

“Bucky, what are we doing above a bakery?” 

“Shut up Sam.” You don’t pay any attention to the muted voices from behind the door, not like you could hear them anyways over your excited yelling.

“James,” you start as you fling open the door, “have you seen the news? Sam Wilson is Captain America!” You still haven’t looked up from the bottle you’re shaking slightly in your hand. You open it with a pop and it sprays everywhere for a second and you hear your friends gasp. The proud smile on your face puts one on Bucky’s and Sam looks between the two of you for a second before it clicks.

“You're the girl he’s been talking to!” The stranger's voice brings your attention to the men in your door and you gasp as you realize immediately who’s standing in front of you. You’re thankful that Peter takes the bottle from your hand before you can drop it.

“Oh my god. Peter pinch me I’m dreaming. You’re Captain America. Like you’re the Sam Wilson oh my God!” You grab onto his arm and pull him into your home. “Come on in make yourself at home. Oh my God Falcon is in my house. Do you want anything to eat or drink? I just popped open the champagne to celebrate you omg. James and I made cookies earlier do you want some of those? They’re good, not the best though he doesn’t seem to have much practice with baking. I could run downstairs real quick and grab you some of my finest baked goods.” As you ramble on Sam just sits there shocked to see this reaction from someone because of him. He’s seen plenty of people act this way for Steve but this is the first time it’s ever really happened for him. You’re about to walk to the door to go to the bakery when Bucky stops you.

“Doll, hey calm down. Sam doesn’t need any of that stuff I’m sure he’s fine aren’t you Sam?”

“I don’t know Buck. I kinda wanna try those cookies you made.”

“I’ll go get you some.” You’re about to walk away but Bucky without thinking grabs your wrist to stop you with his metal arm. You immediately freeze at the feeling of the cool metal and turn to look at him with confusion written on your face. You grab his hand as he’s about to take it back ready for a negative reaction. “What’s this?” You turn it over in front of you to study it and follow the metal up to his shoulder. “Is this why you wear the gloves all the time?” He just nods at you. “Why would you do that this is fucking cool! I mean I’m sure how you got it wasn’t but now that it’s here might as well embrace it y'know?”

“Babes here I think you could use this.” MJ hands you a glass of orange juice that you can already tell has the champagne is it and turn back around to face the Captain on your couch.

“So James are you going to explain to me how you know Sam fucking Wilson?”

“Well you know my coworker Sam?”

“Yeah.” Something in your brain clicks as you realize it. 

“So you’re telling me that your work Sam is Sam Wilson? Then that must mean that you’re like a superhero or something too right?”

“So are you gonna introduce me to your girl or what Buck?”

“Sam, this is Y/n. Doll, I’d introduce you to him but you already know who he is.”

“Hi Y/n Y/l/n it’s an honor to meet you Captain America.” You hold your hand out and he takes it to shake.

“Please you just have to call me Sam.” You let out a little giddy squeal at that and look at your friends. 

“Sam, this is MJ, Peter, and Ned. They've had to deal with me the whole time that asshole John Walker was Captain America and not you.” You down the drink in your cup before placing it on the table.

“This is some girl you’ve got Bucky. I think I like her already.” 

“Why does he keep calling you Bucky?” You ask as you sit on his lap in the armchair you have next to the couch.

“It’s his nickname, Steve gave it to him.” Sam answers before he has the chance to.

“Oh, can I call you Bucky? Wait. Steve? Like Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah.” Bucky answers slowly, not sure how you’ll take the next set of information. “He was kinda my best friend.”

“That’s cool.”

“Hey Y/n, you remember when we learned about Steve Rogers in history class. You know we learned all about him and his best friend Buc-”

“Bucky Barnes.” You finish for Ned before whipping your head around to look at Bucky. “You’re telling me that you really weren’t lying on your Tinder profile, you’re actually 106?”

“Wait I’m sorry Bucky was on Tinder?” Sam bursts out laughing at the thought of it.

The night rolls on with all of you having a good time and continuing game night eventually with Sam having a blast with you guys. He bids you goodbye while inviting you and Bucky down to Louisiana for a cookout that his sister is already planning to celebrate everything. You were quick to accept telling him you’ll bake a cake or something for it. And it shocked you a bit when he pulled you in for a hug but you were quick to return it. Peter and everyone left soon after him and when it was just you and Bucky you turned to him ready for some answers.

“Alright, I’m going to need you to explain everything to me.” You had yawned after saying it and Bucky smiled at you as you stretched in front of him.

“I’ll explain everything in the morning for now doll let’s get you to bed.”

Series Taglist: @kittengirl998​ @fxckyou4ever​ @safetypinxtales​ @starstruckgardenstudentzonk​​ @oofkatisanerd​​ @chiakitoga​​ @ihavemjolnirinmypantss​​ @accioholland​​ @nykie-1dluv​​ @pheonixisded​​ @paniniirae​​ @sillygamingartghost​​ 

Bucky Taglist: @puddinsqueen​​ @koressecretidentity​​ @stevieintheimpala​​ @unmagically​​ @panickingqueer​​ @thomasthetankson​​ @joeysbumpkinbatch @the-chocoholic-writer​​ @perksofbeingatrex​​ @99-cats​​ @rachmmb​​ @quokkatrash​​ @mylifeiscrazy0423​​ @vanillamaa​​ @strawb3rrydr3ss​​ @that-sarcastic-writer​​ @spp2011 @spideyycents​​ @mackycat11​​ @crystalsoul2​​ @rosiemotion​​ @dissectiontime​​ @franzthelentil @lmf​​ @jacelynenursalim​​ @aiyanalevina​​ @mooncaffeine​​ @fanofalltheficsx​​ @jewelsrocks99​​ @lharrietg​​ @yoongisdumplingcheeks​​ @clubcesspool​​ @sailormajinmoon​​ @girl-obsessed-with-things​​ @corvusmorte @sophielovesbarnes​​ @enlyume​​ 

Marvel Taglist: @its-the-autism-innit-luv​​ @xxspqcebunsxx​​ @amourtentiaa​​ @obsessedwithbuckybarnes @thenormanreedus​​ @rorysreallyrandom @sxtansqueen​​ @fandomrejects @stephyra @myalupinblack​​ @mirakeul​​ @aya-fay​​ @just-a-musical-fan @lieswithoutfairytales​​ @cr4b-rav3 @kakakatey​​ @sugarbutterbailey​​ @1-800-ch3rry​​ 

Everything Taglist: @peterssweetpea​​ @ninuffi​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @kolakube9​​ @lexy9716​​ @hehehehannahthings​​ 

[lsholland]

London Lights (pt. 2) - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (1st person)

Genre: Party!Tom

Warnings: swearing; alcohol; smut (don’t recommend -18 to read)

Word count: 1.5k

Read part 1 here

Author’s note: Hey guys! Part 2 is out... I'd recommend listening to one of these slowed/reverb playlists while reading it. if you know what I mean.

Synopsis: Quarantine has been tough. I’ve lost my boyfriend, and I’m feeling lonely. Clubs and restaurants are open again, but I feel like it’ll never be like it used to. My friends have been pushing me to install Tinder and go on dates. Well, tonight, I’m going on a date. I don’t really want to but I’m going to try and have fun for once. Just a few drinks and I’ll go home. What else could happen?

PS. You can read the story on Wattpad.

What am I doing here with him? I think as I’m watching him wobbling.

The streets are getting darker as we walk out of the city centre. Only a few lamp posts on the sides of the pavement allow me to see his shadowy face. The streets are so quiet. My ears are still not used to this sudden switch to total silence. As I can’t hear my own footsteps, nor feel my feet, it becomes harder and harder to walk straight.

I stumble. I bump against a wall and stop for a few seconds to rest my aching head. My eyes are squeezed.

“Are you alright?” Tom asks when he notices I’m not next to him anymore. He approaches and firmly holds my arm.

I try to keep my eyes shut but he’s so close to me I feel nervous and keep opening them to make sure I’m not dreaming.

He glances around and raises his brows. “How far are we?”

“Far” is all I manage to say as I examine his facial features. I can only see his side profile and it’s enough for me to lose my mind. I’m mesmerised by his beautiful straight nose, his sharp jawline, and his wavy chocolate hair.

He glances at me.

Eye-contact.

I look away. I’m anxious. I’m intimidated. I’m overwhelmed. And I’m drunk above all. And I want to kiss him, but I know it’s only going to end up badly if I do so.

I discretely glance up, making sure I’m avoiding eye contact. He’s still watching me.

He’s so close to my face. His warm, beer-scented breath caresses my skin. I’m shivering.

“Let’s go” I whisper.

He smirks.

We keep walking next to each other. I make sure to keep a distance from him. For security.

He’s not as drunk as I am. And even though he seems adorable, I can’t truly trust him. Or that’s what I say not to admit I’m really attracted to this man.

For the first time since we met, he checks his phone. The screen is so bright it burns my eyes. I feel a certain dizziness in my body. My hands become numb.

Tom frowns his eyebrows as he reduces the brightness of his phone screen. He opens and closes apps. I can see the blue colour of text messages on his iPhone.

I’m insanely curious. I can’t read anything, but I stare at his screen.

Who is he texting?

He peers at me. I startle and look down instantly. I’m ashamed. I hope he didn’t notice I was watching his phone. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to invade his privacy.

“I wasn’t looking—just the brightness of the screen—I don’t know.” I babble.

He doesn’t react. He keeps reading his text messages and taps on his phone.

I messed up.

We keep walking silently until we reach my apartment. His attention’s been on his phone all the time. Disappointment is rushing through my body like a thrill as I prepare to say goodbye.

I don’t want to.

But I have to.

I stop walking to show him we’ve arrived. He turns his phone off and looks at the old building. His thoughts are transiting from whatever conversation he had with his friends/girlfriends or whoever – I don’t care – to the realisation that our paths are parting.

This moment has lasted for only one second, but my thoughts are going crazy. I think of all the possible outcomes. Of all the romantic movies I watched when I was younger. Of all the ideas I had on the road. At this particular moment, I am aware it was all just a dream. He’s just being nice with me.

I’ve known him for a couple of hours. We’ve only exchanged a few words, but I am deeply sad. I try to think of any excuse to make him come inside and spend the rest of the night together. But none of them are reasonable.

Get with it.

I glance at him. He’s watching me, waiting for a signal. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even blink.

“That’s where I live” I say as I’m going through my purse to find my keys. I’ve found them immediately, but I just pretend a little longer to give him the chance to say something.

He doesn’t.

I sigh. “Thank you for walking me home,” I grin while holding my tears, hoping he doesn’t notice I’m devastated. “Is it going to be okay to go back home on your own?”

He peers down at his phone one last time. “Yeah, it’ll be alright . . .”

That’s it. I’ve drawn on all my ideas. I can’t keep on trying. I’ve got to let him go.

“Good night . . .” I whisper as I put the key in the lock. I try my best not to look back.

Pathetic.

As a tear drops from my eye, I come to the sudden realisation none of this is real. I am so drunk my emotions are raw. But none of them are genuine. I didn’t even know him a few hours ago. The next morning I’ll have a laugh when I think of the whole situation.

I feel a little better.

“I’m sorry!” Tom shouts before I close the door behind me. I watch him through the gap. He comes to me with a grin on his face. “You’re fun, I like you.”

My eyes are wide open. I don’t know what to say. I stutter.

“I like to keep my circle close though. I hope you understand”

I nod.

What he just said is breaking my heart. It feels like I am the problem. Like I am not enough. Everything I’ve been trying to forget from my previous relationships is resurging in my mind.

I start crying.

My ex-boyfriend left me for someone else. He cheated on me. He disrespected me in every way that’s possible. He made me feel miserable for being who I am.

And even though it isn’t Tom’s intention, I feel the same.

“No, no, no!” he grabs my face in the palm of his hands and brings my face closer to his. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

I don’t understand anything.

“I really like you,” he added as he glanced at each one of my eyes and my lips and my hair and my eyes again “we’ve only just met.”

I nod. “It’s okay” I whisper as smoothly as possible.

I’m not okay.

“I mean—You know who I am . . .” he glances around as if we were being watched “That’s too big a risk.”

I nod, again.

I still don’t understand anything.

Anxiety and shame rush together through my body, from my core to the tip of my fingers. I’m feeling so bad.

I should’ve stayed with my boring date.

“Yeah, it’s alright” I whisper facing down.

He raises his eyebrows. I can’t look at him in his eyes, but I can feel he’s surprised by my reaction.

What did he expect?

“Just—Make sure you’re safe on your way home” I add.

This is my goodbye though I’m not entirely sure he understands.

His face shifts. He’s intensely watching the bottom of my face. His lips are moving as if he were trying to say something but silently stutters.

I’m not sure I want to hear another reason why he can’t be with me.

I glance at him. He doesn’t move.

We’ve stayed at my doorstep for way too long now. It’s getting awkward. It’s better to call it a night and just pretend like I never hoped for more than this.

I try to close the door but stumble. Even though I’m sobering up, I’m still feeling dizzy.

“Let me walk you to your apartment” Tom says.

I nod. I can’t do anything else.

There is no elevator in my building. Luckily, my apartment is on the second floor.

Tom is holding my shoulder as I step in the staircase. He doesn’t say a word.

I’m so anxious I can’t stop thinking about all the inconsistencies in his behaviour. Why would he come with me here? It’s quite risky. Paparazzies are going to think he’s getting lucky tonight. I thought he was avoiding this . . .

I’m now in front of my apartment door, completely out of breath.

“Thanks, Tom” I whisper.

At this moment, I know it’s the last time I’ll ever see him. I feel it in my bones. I feel regret, hopelessness, dizziness, desire, tension . . .

Stop.

I unlock the door, open it and exhale. Excitement has left my body.

I look at him one last time.

He’s gorgeous.

I��m trying to remember his features for as long as possible. And I don’t realise I’ve been looking at him for a little too long until—

“Fuck” he whispers as he rushes in my apartment, grabs my neck, and pushes me against the wall. He uses his leg to slam the door shut.

I’m speechless.

He kisses me on my lips. A long, hard kiss.

It’s so dark in the room, I can only see his silhouette. And his hair falling on his face. I smell his cologne too. It’s divine.

He kisses my cheek, my jaw, my neck, my shoulder through my dress that seems to be bothering him.

His lips are so soft, it feels like velvet wrapping my skin. It’s intense. He grabs my hair and kisses me one more time, his fingers caressing my skin.

I feel the goosebumps on his skin. I hear his heart racing in his chest. He’s panting. He doesn’t look the same anymore.

The room is silent, I can only hear him breathing. He keeps kissing me and becomes more and more brutal. It feels so good I accidentally moan.

Tom grunts. He looks at me and smirks.

“I just want you”

(Part 3 soon)

[tripmywire95]

Casual Match - Chapter 1

Playlist

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x female reader

Summary: having a side income might’ve been a great idea until you realize that you're too seemingly affected by a certain Sokovian.

Rating: explicit 18+ only (for future chapters)

Warnings: anxiety, sugaring arrangement, is Natasha being a big sister a warning??? Not beta read.

Word Count: 600+

Notes: fic inspired by this post. I decided to come off anon and write the whole thing. I have no set schedule for each chapter so I will be updating this as I go.

“Over my dead body will I sign up for Tinder,” you warn as you sit next to Natasha, offering her a glass of wine. “I just don’t see this working at all.” Particularly setting the age range to 40+. You grab the stem of your glass, welcoming the dry taste of the drink. “If you do change your mind” she says as she gives you a plate of pirozhki, “I know what we can add in your profile to stand out.” Natasha nudges your arm after she sees you roll your eyes.

Later that night with your third glass now empty, you finish up your profile. 72 hours until approval.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Natasha sees your text. If I don’t reply in the next forty minutes call 911. Just when you’re about to grab the doorknob you feel Nat approach you, that dead set look in her eyes, unblinking. You think you hear some words in Russian. Shit. Pulling out your phone you click on the app, handing the device to her. She finally blinks, but you remain still, any attempt to read her face is useless and it feels like the minutes drag.

“I guess you didn’t need any help weeding out profiles. After all, I did suggest the wrong site.” Her smugness would infuriate you if Natasha wasn’t on full overprotective mode. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” You shake your head. “Just text me once you’re done. Alright?” The reassuring squeeze of her hand on your shoulder quelling your nerves for a moment.

Until you meet him.

You’re aware how deceptive photographs can be, you’ve studied it, worked with it, played with it, seen how hard is it to get that good shot underneath the harsh lighting and the motion of the subject. But this? It can’t be replicated by a composition of pixels. He gets up from his chair when he sees you, a small smile playing on his lips, eyes not quite matching his expression.

“Hi,” you say, smile beaming, hands cold. You’re fucked.

He greets you back and grabs your hand gently, placing a kiss to your knuckles. You try to take a deep breath as you both sit. Calm down, he will not see through you.

“This is your first time.”

The hammering of your heart picks up again. You’re about to say some excuse about your supposed excitement when he continues…

“It is mine as well.”

“Oh thank God” you blurt out in relief. “It seemed like you’ve done this before.” Helmut’s eyes soften. “I fear I am not that well-versed with online dating.” You chuckle. “Trust me, you were not missing out. You’re lucky if you have an actual person reply and show up. Let alone if they match with their profile.” He leans closer, the scent of vetiver and cedarwood drawing you in. “My good fortune struck today then. I’m more than pleased to have you here.” There it is, that glint in his eyes. “I would say the same about you as well” you assure him. As the conversation continues you’re able to take your time to notice the things you missed before in your anxious state. To get yourself acquainted with the sound of his voice, that measured tone when he speaks, his accent adding a slight roughness to it. To think of what else that voice can do.

“Is my offer still good?” his fingers hover on the leather bound book. You mouth a yes as he slides the book to you, an envelope peeking from the pages. As your digits count each bill he retrieves the book, adding more “for the inconvenience of startling you.”

This time your smile is relaxed and his finally catches up with his eyes.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your fingers are too fast for the glitching keyboard of your phone. Nat, I'm getting you a bottle of Beluga...

[retrievablememories]

matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

--

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app. 

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :) 

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos 

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

--

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take. 

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” 

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...” 

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human. 

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards. 

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

--

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

--

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

--

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway. 

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust. 

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button. 

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

[knjoodles]

sallang; taehyung | 01

pairing: singlefather!taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

recommended song: come on get higher by matt nathanson

word count: 2K

warnings/author’s note: this first chapter is slightly suggestive. nothing that i’d consider smut-worthy, but a warning never hurts! i’m also starting this as a mini-series, with short chapters and an overall short story. glad to be back!

summary: handsome, intelligent, fashionably late: taehyung seems to be a total package, and you’re all for it. that is, until his rain-checks and delayed appearances become so frequent that you feel left in the dark. what could he possibly be hiding?

sallang - a word describing the manner of the wind blowing lightly.

lowercase intended

this is a major waste of my time is what you thought as you rhythmically tapped your fingers against the clothed wooden table of a local restaurant, your knee bouncing impatiently against the floor, your free hand holding your head, glancing around in pure boredom. with how much time you’d spent staring at the wall beside you, you’d probably noted every color its paint compiled. it was your first date with a man from tinder who you realized was way out of your league — and you began to fear that he realized it way before you did.

snaking your phone from your back pocket, leg still bouncing, a deep sigh escaping your lips, you opened his profile once again. “kim taehyung, twenty-five, huh?” you filed through his tab once again, mumbling as you read. “likes reading, going to the beach… do you like being late, too?” you hissed, “because, from the looks of it, its like you get off on—”

“excuse me?”  

your thoughts of innermost annoyance suddenly subsided at the sound of a deep, masculine voice from above you. your head darted upwards to find none other than kim taehyung standing in black slacks with a complementary white shirt to match, his chest rising and falling, almost like he’d run to your date. “are you (y/n)? i’m taehyung… from tinder?” his eyebrow pricked up as he finished his sentence, an embarrassed smile cracking across his face. you stared at him for a moment, taking in the man standing before you. (y/n)? upset at kim taehyung? never. seeing him in person, you’d almost completely forgotten you were irritated.  

“yeah, that’s me. have a seat,” you smiled awkwardly, chuckling softly. you watched as taehyung hooked his casual blazer, previously wrung lazily around his arm, onto his chair. he sat down quietly, moving his seat closer to the table, adjusting his glasses and jet black hair. a moment of silence fell between the two of you, taehyung picking up his menu to appear preoccupied in the dinner menu. you smiled to yourself, catching glimpses of his eyes blinking rapidly as he excitedly scanned the text, a habit that’d already made itself known. you began to notice how he’d glance up at you every so often, chewing his lip, flustered, almost as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words to do it.

“i’m sorry for being so late,” he admit, sighing. “i had something to take care of earlier, and it took a lot longer than i’d hoped,” he set his menu down, toying with its edge with his finger. “i...” he paused, “i apologize. i know it must’ve been inconvenient for you.” you took this moment to eye taehyung's hands, slender and dainty, his fingers long and adequate.  

you laughed at his slightly frantic tone. “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. you’re here now, right? let’s focus on that. you wanna tell me a little more about yourself, ot should i go first?” you assured, smiling comfortingly. “your bio only tells me so much.”

“uh, okay!” he nodded, resting his hands on the table. “well, i’m taehyung, i recently received my bachelor’s and i’m aiming for a phd in english, i don’t care for coffee all that much, i love pretty much all animals you can find, and… i’m 5’11".” he introduced himself with detail as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, pulling them up to only reach past his elbows. “how about you?”

“oh, my turn?” you questioned, earning a giggle from the man facing you. “i guess it’s only fair. i’m (y/n), i’m pursuing law as of now, we can lay low on coffee if you’d like — i don’t really mind. i like going on simple dates, i love music recommendations, i love musicians, and i’m significantly shorter without these heels on.” you finished, content that either taehyung had a really bad sense of humor or that your finishing line made a better impression than you’d thought it ever could. 

“does this fulfill your requirement of a simple date?” taehyung inquired playfully, lightly patting the table.

“it does,” you replied, tone flirtatious. you noticed taehyung eyebrow raise and jaw tighten at your response as he cracked a smirk, entertained at the shift in energy. that look jumbled your insides, but there was no time for that. you expelled those thoughts from your mind as you cleared your throat, silently scolding yourself. your moment was interrupted by a waitress, the same one who’d pitifully watched you poke at the complimentary sourdough bread slices with an empty seat in front of you. offering to kindly take your menus and your orders, the two of you obliged. as she scurried away from your table, a notepad with messy handwriting scribbled across it dangling from her waist apron, you turned back to taehyung, whose eyes were glued to you, one of his hands caught in his hair as he ran a hand through it. “hey,” he muttered, his voice deep, his eyebrow habitually twitching upwards once more. was he trying to make you unravel in the middle of your date?

“oh my god,” you laughed, trying to shake off how flustered you were. “you can’t just do that and expect me to be okay!” you joked.

“do what?” he chuckled in return. “the deep voice? i can’t control that; it just happens sometimes,” he smiled at his lap, looking back up at you soon after. “you said you were interested in musicians?”

“i mean, it’s not a necessity, but yeah, i find musicians especially interesting.” you explained, reaching for your glass of cold water, ice half melted.  

“i don’t want to brag, but when i was in high school, i was in a band.” he grinned as your jaw dropped. your mind raced with thoughts of how flawless he was, from how well he dressed to how every secret of his made him ten times more attractive. “it was just seven of us, seven of my friends. some would rap, some would sing. i was a singer, and i was really invested in the group. after we all graduated, the group kind of fell out, but we’re all still friends. cool, huh? i would play a little bit of everything, from piano to guitar. more piano, though.” he added, tilting his glass of water towards you, his attractive grin infectious.  

“that’s crazy,” you gasped, leaning forward in your chair. “ever thought of getting the band back together? you’ve got the looks!”

“the looks?” he repeated, laughing excitedly. “you’re giving me too much credit here, (y/n),”

“i don’t think you’re giving yourself enough,” you replied, raising your eyebrows, challenging his humble temperament.  

the two of you dined contentedly, taehyung's charismatic personality and contagious smile catching you every time. the conversation, surprisingly, were never boring, they flowed into one another the way good friends converse after not seeing each other for a long time. his mannerisms and aura struck you as welcoming and comforting, as if he was a bright, warm light you wanted to step into. he was safety embodied, he was a simple, gentle man, with kindness and love pouring out of his soul. to your multiple objections, taehyung covered the bill, still feeling guilty over arriving late. a part of you inexplicably pitied him; you felt as though you should’ve at least pitched in half. it may have just been your morals being challenged, but you almost felt obligated to pay him back.  

dusting off his trousers, taehyung arose from his chair, your date coming to a close. a wave of childish frustration fell over you: you didn’t want it to end, not yet! to your surprise, he glided to your side of the table, chivalrously offering his hand to help you up. you smiled and took his hand graciously, his endless good-natured acts perplexing you. who was this guy? other than being late, was there really a flaw?

as you arose from your seat, you decided the answer to the latter question was no. this was absolutely the best date you’d ever been on: he wasn’t obnoxious, he wasn’t boisterous, he didn’t ask you for anything afterwards… you’d been with your fair share of unforgettably horrible men. taehyung was different, though: it wasn’t that he was just more decent than the men you’d previously gone out with, it was his aura, his persona, it was something above physicality that made you fall for him more than you thought you should.  

“thank you for the lunch,” you smiled graciously as he accompanied you out of the restaurant, opening the door for you as well. “this was really enjoyable! i hope we can do this again soon.”

“me too! thank you for being so nice to me despite me being late.” he returned your kind grin before grasping for his buzzing phone in his pocket, pulling it out to check an apparent text. “i, uh…” he swallowed, now visibly anxious. “would you like me to walk you to your car?” his tone completely different from his physical state.  

“i’m just over there!” you motioned to your car, stammering, confused by his sudden shift in energy. “if you have something important to get to, you go ahead!” he relaxed slightly, thanking you kindly and pulling you into a warm embrace. it felt shocking, but not in a bad way — his very intimidatingly handsome appearance contrasted with how gentle he had been with you. should you have liked him this much on the first date alone?

“i’ll see you soon! i can text you my number on tinder later. thank you again!” he jogged backwards, still making eye contact before he finished his statement, where he then turned completely and began dashing towards his car. you found him charming and funny and it made you smile.  

spinning on your heel to walk towards your car, you spun the chain of your car keys on your finger, the thought of taehyung still with you. he’d been perfect: good-hearted, humble, witty… you could go on. you sat quietly in the front seat of your car, thumbing the leather of your steering wheel. part of this felt very suspicious — how could someone be this perfect? how could someone be this enjoyable, this wonderful, this considerate? you didn’t want to feel this way about him as he felt wholly genuine, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling of possibly being lied to. was he messing with you? he absolutely could be. what would you know?

you'd thought yourself into a corner. suddenly, you felt very bad, sitting alone in your car in a silent parking lot. you closed your eyes tightly and sighed loudly, trying to expel as much upset as you could from your body. you’d just had an amazing date! you shouldn’t be feeling this bad afterwards. taking a moment to collect yourself once more, you started your car, dusting yourself off before driving yourself home, the scent of taehyung’s faint cologne lingering in your mind.

i missed u guys :}. enjoy this piece from me!

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

--

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

--

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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[travistheaussie]

Netflix and Chill

Chris Jamal EvansxBlack!Reader

Warnings: slight degredation, breeding kink, dirty talk, m receiving, fingering, creampie, Chris being a little freak 

A/N: I have been absolute trash at getting fics out and to the people that bother reading, I apologize! Being an adult sucks absolute ass. Anyways, I’ve decided to write about Chris Jamal Evans because why not? Hope you enjoy!

==============================================================

You’d been swiping left and right on Tinder for what seemed like hours as you sat on your couch on an uneventful Saturday evening. You’d matched with quite a few men, but somehow you got the ones that were trying for a relationship. How does that even happen? Tinder was supposed to be for hookups. You weren’t about that life right now. What you were looking for was a good, decent fuck. Maybe a wine and dine beforehand, but that wasn’t really all that important. You need dick and you were going to get it tonight one way or the other to save you from a boring night of staring at the TV.

Just then, you stumbled upon the profile of a guy named Chris. You swiped through his pictures and instantly became soaked by the sight of him. They were typical fuckboy pictures, but you could care less because this man was fine. Especially with the buzzed hair and slight stubble he had going on. His eyes were to die for too. They were the most beautiful shade of blue you had ever seen. You couldn’t even get started on his body. It was perfect. The tattoos that covered his torso made you want to lick all all over him. Fuck, you had to have him and you prayed that you guys would match.

After a few more minutes of gawking, you finally swiped right, and thank the Lord, you two matched. You went over to the message section on the app and saw bubbles pop up on screen. The two of you went over the basic introductions before Chris started getting a little bold. He asked for your phone number and when you gave it to him, he instantly called.

“What’s up, girl?” He greeted.

“Chillin’ at home, bored as fuck. What you getting into?” You asked. 

“About to kick back and watch a movie. Be nice if I had some company.”

“Oh really?” You smirked. “Are you implying that you want to Netflix and Chill?”

He let out a husky laugh. “I guess I am. You game?”

Did he even have to ask? Of course you were. You wanted to get in his pants bad. You told him to text you his address before hanging up to get ready. You went to your bedroom and put on a pair of Nike joggers and a cropped hoodie then toed on a pair of slides. Then you went to the bathroom to make sure you hair was done up right. You skipped on makeup since you were just going over to “watch a movie”. You didn’t wear much anyhow since you didn’t really feel the need for it most days. You were comfortable in your own skin. 

Once he sent his address, you hopped in the car and made the twenty minute drive to his place. You pulled up to his house and parked your car in the driveway then made your way up to the door. You knocked and the door swung open. Somehow, you got even more aroused at seeing this man in person. He wore nothing but a pair of loose sweats and a tight wifebeater. His arms were bulging as he held onto the doorway and you swear you were salivating at the view.

Chris gave you a once over, biting his lip as he did so, before looking into your eyes, a smile on his face. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey, yourself.” You replied. “You gonna let me in or what?”

“My apologies, darlin’.” He stepped aside. “Come right in.”

You entered his home and looked around when you went through the foyer. It was your basic bachelor pad, but it was thankfully clean. The living room had a big couch and a giant flat screen mounted on the wall. There were a couple empty beer cans on the coffee table along with some chew toys littered across the floor.

You heard claws scraping against the wood floor and all of a sudden, a dog was jumping all over you. You giggled and began petting him behind the ears.

“I see you met Dodger.” Chris said. 

“He’s adorable.” You smiled, watching as Dodger made his way over to Chris.

Chris leaned down patted him on his side. “Too bad he can’t stick around to watch the movie with us. It’s his bedtime and I think we’ll be a little too busy to pay attention to him. Dodger, bedtime!”

Dodger obediently made his way upstairs, but not without grabbing a stuffed lion to take with him.You turned to Chris, a sly smile on your face. “Oh, we’ll be too busy, will we?”

“Yeah, I think we will.” Chris said huskily. “Go ahead and pick a movie. I’m gonna grab some beers.”

You settled in on the couch and started surfing through Netflix while Chris disappeared into the kitchen. Once he returned, you had a movie picked out and waited for him to get situated. He took a seat right next to you and handed you a beer, which you gladly took. 

“You ready?” You asked, looking up the bigger man.

Chris sunk down in his seat and widened his legs, pretty much manspreading beside you. He took a swig of his drink before responding. “Fire it up, girl.”

After pressing play, you put the remote to the side and relaxed into the couch, nursing your beer. The two of you sat in comfortable silence watching the film for the next thirty minutes. Then you noticed Chris glancing over at you every now and again. And you knew exactly what that meant so you decided to call him out on it.

“Why you keep looking over at me?” You smirked. 

“What you mean?” He questioned, looking you up and down seductively, licking his lips.

“You keep turning your head over here and the way you looking at me right now makes me think you’re about to do something.”

Chris chuckled, turning back to the TV for a second before looking back at you. “Oh yeah? What do you think I’m gonna do, huh?”

“I don’t know, Chris. You tell me.” You replied.

“I wanna see what’s under that hoodie.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, and pulled your hoodie off. You wore nothing but a bra underneath. Chris groaned and scooted even closer to you before wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss. His tongue swiped across your lower lip and you moaned, grabbing his shoulders. You opened your mouth, inviting him in, and he intertwined his tongue with yours. The kiss was rough, sloppy, and oh so hot, and now your panties were completely drenched. God, this man could kiss like no other. 

Chris grabbed your hand and placed it over his crotch. You internally gasped at the feeling of his thick cock. It felt like a monster and you were dying to see it. You stroked him through his sweats and Chris moaned into the kiss, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it. You broke the kiss and whimpered quietly at the feeling of his hand on you. He sat back with a hiss, moving his hand from your breast to your clothed center as he watched you stroke him. 

“Goddamn, baby.” He breathed, rubbing his thick fingers over your pussy. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”

“What about you?” You asked.

He sat up and pulled off the wifebeater he wore then pulled his sweats down to his thighs, letting his cock spring out, already leaking precum. Taking himself in hand, he stroked himself slowly, watching you as you began to rid yourself of the rest of your clothes. Once you were completely naked, Chris cursed under his breath and reached out with his free hand to touch you. His hand stroked up your tummy before reaching your breasts, tweaking your nipples. You moaned out and took his balls in your hand, kneading them softly. Chris groaned, widening his legs more, then leaned over and kissed you again.

“You gonna suck Daddy’s dick?” He said on your lips between kisses.

Oh shit. How did he know you had a daddy kink? That was your biggest weakness and him just saying the word had you creating a puddle underneath you. You whimpered and nodded your head then sank to your knees between his thick legs. You grabbed his cock and licked the tip then went to the other side, soaking him in your spit. Chris moaned, placing his hand on the back of your neck. 

“Don’t tease, baby. I’ve been hard since you walked in the door.” He said huskily, eyes heavily lidded. “Take me in your mouth like a good girl.”

You obeyed and started sucking him in earnest and what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, you stroked in a twisting motion, causing Chris to twitch slightly. You pulled off of him and went lower, sucking his big balls into your mouth while you continued jerking him.

“Just like that, babygirl. Fuck, you feel so good.” He moaned out. “Keep sucking my balls.”

You felt his hand fall away from your neck and you looked up at him to see his head leaned back and eyes shut. You could tell he was getting close. He was breathing heavy and his legs were starting to shake a bit. When you started sucking on his tip again, he grunted and his hips jerked up. Soon, he was pushing you off him.

“Don’t wanna cum yet.” He panted, standing on slightly shaky legs. “Lay down on the couch.”

You did as you were told and lied back against the couch, your head resting against the arm. You watched Chris’s cock swing between his legs as pried yours open and kneeled between them. He looked down at your soaked pussy and hummed lowly biting his lower lip.

“Such a pretty little pussy.” He said before licking his fingers and rubbing your clit. “Can’t wait to get my cock in there.”

You moaned loudly, both at his fingers and his words. “I want you in me, Daddy.”

“Yeah? You want me in there?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded then threw your head back when he inserted two of his fingers.

“Gotta stretch you out first, baby. You’re so fuckin’ tight.” His other hand went down to lazily stroke himself while he fingered you. “Wanna wreck this little pussy so bad though. Make your toes curl.”

His dirty talk got you so close to the edge, but before you could cum, Chris pulled his fingers out of you. He placed his free hand on your knee and just stared down at you while he continued stroking himself. Your pussy clenched around nothing and he groaned at the sight. You brought your hands up to your tits, squeezing them and rolling your nipples with your fingers.

He looked up at your chest and you could swear his blue eyes got darker. “Fuck, baby. You ready for Daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You whimpered. “Want your fat cock in me.”

Chris grabbed the backs of your knees and pushed them up to your chest before tapping his cock against your folds then sliding in to the hilt. You gasped and your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of being so full. He gave you a moment to adjust before starting to move. He moved slowly at a first, dragging his cock out then slamming in deep, making you cry out. 

“Harder, Daddy.” You gasped, getting close again.

“Oh yeah. Daddy’s about to tear you up.” That was all he needed to hear before he started fucking into you harder.

His balls slapped against your ass as he roughly pounded in you and you were close to your climax. When he started hitting your spot, you stiffened and let go, soaking his cock in your juices. Chris let out a wanton groan at the sight of you cumming all over his dick, twitching inside of you. 

“Fuck, you’re so nasty.” He panted. “I fuckin’ love it. Want you to cum again.”

You had never cum that hard so quick before. He was touching places inside you that nobody has ever reached. Chris was stroking into you so deep and hard and with the way he was rolling his hips around as he did so was getting you close again. He let go of your legs and leaned over you, wrapping a hand around your neck and the grabbed your hair, pulling slightly. He bent down and sealed his lips over yours, groaning into your mouth as he kept the same pace. You ran your hands through his buzzed hair, scratching at his scalp. Then your hands went to his chest, rubbing over his nipples and down his hairy torso, feeling his abs contract when you went lower.

“You like that dick?” He pulled away from the kiss, looking into your eyes. “Tell me you like it, bitch.”

This man was going to fucking ruin you. “I love it, Daddy. Love that big dick pounding me!”

“You’re gonna cum on this fuckin’ dick again, yeah? Soak Daddy with your pussy juice?” He said lowly, biting your lip.

You eagerly nodded, eyes rolling in the back of your head when he started grinding his hips into you. “I’m so close, Daddy!”

“Cum for Daddy, bitch. Cum all over me.” He demanded, reaching down to rub your throbbing clit.

Your entire body stiffened, hitting your peak once again. Chris watched as you shook beneath him and his rhythm began to falter. He started grinding into sloppily, chasing his own release.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” He moaned, looking into your eyes. “You on birth control?”

You nodded lazily as you scratched at his scalp. “Put it in me.”

Chris let out a shuddering pant. “Oh, I’m gonna fill this pussy up. Tell me you want it, baby. Tell me.”

“Give me that load, Daddy. Want you to fill me up with that hot cum.” You urged, bringing his head down to lick at his neck.

He moaned loudly in your ear and laid down on top of you, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you against him. With every thrust, he was letting out these hot little grunts that had your pussy squeezing him tight. That sent him over the edge and with a few more deep thrusts, he stilled inside you. You could feel his cock twitching intensely inside you as he filled you with his hot load. Chris pulled you tighter against him, holding you tight. 

After a few moments of him catching his breath, he slowly pulled away from you and sat up, looking down at where you two were joined. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

You looked down and laughed softly at the mess you both made. Chris carefully pulled out of you and groaned when he saw his cum leaking out of you. He leaned over and grabbed his wifebeater and began to wipe you off before tossing it to the side and laying back on the other side of the couch, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“That was amazing.” He commented, looking over at you. “You got really good pussy.”

“Well, thank you.” You replied while redressing.

Chris grabbed his sweats and put them back on before grabbing his beer and taking a sip. He watched you get dressed and pull on your shoes. “Hopefully this isn’t the only time we hook up.”

“Isn’t that what Tinder is for? One time hookups?” You questioned.

“I mean, yeah. Ninety-nine percent of the time.” He responded. “But I’d like this to happen again.”

You laughed. “Oh, god. Please tell me you haven’t caught feelings already, Christopher.”

“I don’t catch feelings, alright?” He smirked. “I do, however, refuse to fuck someone like you just once.”

You giggled, shaking your head, before making your way toward the door with Chris in tow. He opened it for you and you stepped out onto the porch. You turned back to him, catching the man checking you out once again.

“Seriously, let me know if you need some dick again. I’m always down.” He smirked.

“I might. Don’t be blowing up my phone though. Shit’s annoying.” You said.

“I won’t.” He stepped forward and gave you peck on the lips. “Be careful gettin’ home, alright?”

“I will.”

With that, you made your way to your car and got into the driver’s seat. You sat back and thought about what just transpired. Chris was very dangerous, and while you haven’t caught feelings, you were definitely sprung. 

A/N: This is probably shit, but please let me know if you liked it! Reblog, make a note, whatever!

[theficplug]

Swipe Right

Tyler Lepley x Black Reader 

warnings : none, mostly fluff with just a tiny bit of smut if you can call it that at the end. i’m not too familiar with him but i tried ! to the cutie who requested, i hope you like it. alright enjoy x  Face mask on. Wine in hand. Impulsive 10$ Dark and Lovely hair dye bought at the beauty supply store already slathered in your hair. It was your time set aside out of the week for you and your best friend to complain. Although homegirl was on the other end of the phone getting ready for anniversary and was not relating to your rant of the night. 

 “Girl, I’m telling y’all right now if I get another unsolicited dick pic in my dms or another “You got the bill right? I’m just a lil in between jobs right now you know how it is right baby”? I’m joining a nunnery because I love love, but me and my bank account can NOT keep getting played like this.” you rant to your friends over a video call as you walk around your apartment tending to the foils in your hair. 

The series of failed dates and “talking stages” had left a sour taste in your mouth and put you off from dating altogether, but your best friend Layla is trying to convince you to give Tinder another go. 

“I don’t know Lala. I just don’t have another talking stage in me. I’m grown in the words of the iconic Miss New York Tiffany Pollard : I want eggs CRACKED AND SCRAMBBBLLEEDD” 

Layla’s husband Aaron’s laughter erupted from somewhere in the room on her end and you raise an eyebrow not knowing that he had been ear hustling the whole time. 

“Just give a little more time. You never know what can be right around the corner!  There has got to be at least a few foine men on Tinder. Give it one more try.” Layla encouraged before saying that she had to go because her man had the night planned for their anniversary dinner. 

You huffed and sat the phone aside as you waited for the copper coloured hair dye to process your curiosity got the better of you and you reached for your phone again.

As you thumbed through the profiles of folks “looking for a beautiful girl for me and my husband (:” and “if you a feminist, pay for our first date”. You were two seconds away from putting your phone to the side again before you noticed “Tyler Lepley” and his profile.

You nearly spit out the cheap bottle of Stella Rose on your carpet in disbelief. “No, this has got to be a whole ass catfish. Why would his fine ass be on Tinder of all places? Let’s humour him. Wait but he’s verified... At the very least this should be funny as hell.” you say to yourself before rolling your eyes. 

“Okay and I definitely got to make some single friends cause I’m really home on a Saturday night talking to myself. . . Whatever-” 

You swipe right on his profile and almost instantly your phone notified you that there was a match. 

‘Hey I just wanted to let you know I think you’re beautiful and if you’re ever in the area I’d like to take you out sometime. On me of course.’

“Oh he’s good.” you thought to yourself as you tried to think of a reply.

‘Sure, I’d love to. I’m actually driving up to Atlanta tomorrow for work. And if it’s really you. I want a Tika Sumpter autograph when we meet lol.’ you respond having a little fun with the troll at least before you log out for the evening. 

‘Oh, so you don’t think it’s me? I ain’t nobody big. Just tryna find the right one to bring home for the holidays so my nosey aunties can stop asking me when I’m gon get a wife lol.’

*attachment (1)*

“Pfft.. Anybody could’ve gotten that from Instagram or something.” you said to yourself. 

He’s good though. You’ll give him that much. 

‘Okay tattoos and lips! You’re handsome or whatever.That’s understandable. I’m looking for the same thing but I must be looking in all the wrong places cause if i run into one more dud that’s looking for a unicorn for them and their wife to “share”. Whew- it’s a lot lol.’

‘I get you. I haven’t matched with too many women on here myself. They either tryna see how they can get a job at the studio or they want me to be their sugar daddy. Which I ain't got no problem wining and dining my women btw. I’m just not looking for that kinda situationship. If you don’t mind I’d like to video call you cause looking as good as you look. I'm just tryna make sure you’re not a catfish.”

Hold up. This was just supposed to be a little fun and now this man is using the video call function on Tinder and you’re still sitting there with the dye on your head. 

‘Give me 25 minutes.’ you respond quickly before he replies with ‘take your time’.

The race was on as you began running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off as you wash out the dye quickly and inspect the colour. It was a really pretty natural ginger shade as you grab your hair diffuser and blow out your hair a little to dry it the best you could. 

After grabbing your makeup bag , you slap on the winged liner, a little highlighter, mascara, and a dark brown lipstick like you were back in school trying to get ready before class. 

You fluff and shake out your hair while looking at yourself in the mirror. With 5 minutes to spare you go to your closet and pull out a cozy warm brown cropped jumper that really stood out against your deep skin tone. 

“Alright, please don’t waste my time.” you whisper to yourself as you press the video call button and wait for him to come onto the screen. After about a minute and no answer you let out a heavy sigh feeling a little embarrassed and like a fool for actually believing that The Universe was about to hook you up like that. 

You put your phone on the table next to you and leaned back in the chair before hearing the notification go off again. 

After going back and forth about it for a few seconds you hesitantly answered the call and had to contain the array of emotions you were going through when you saw him actually on the phone, smiling at you with those pretty ass white teeth. 

You put the phone for a second before letting out a ‘thank you Jesus’.

“I should be saying the same thing about you! You are beautiful. God damn. When I first saw your profile I was like man aint no way. She gotta be some sort of catfish or something. I thought at the most it would be a funny cover story tomorrow on The Shade Room or something. ‘Tyler Lepley Catfished By Tinder Boo’. I apologize for not answering your call earlier. I just wrapped on set and I wanted to be able to hear you and give you my undivided attention. How are you this evening?” he says chuckling deeply and softly as he sits back in his trailer. 

“I was thinking the same thing. I’m like at least it’ll humour me, but I wasn’t really expecting you to want to talk. How are you? I was completely kidding about the whole Tika Sumpter thing by the way.” You say giggling nervously before fussing about with the window to try and get better lighting. 

“Oh really? Cause i got her to sign this shirt for you and everything. I can just do a giveaway with it or something else. I like your hair by the way...I’m doing good. It’s been a long day of pretending to get my ass kicked and running lines but I’m grateful to be in even better company with your pretty self. Even if it is through the screen for now. There’s something about a woman like you. I feel like I wanna know everything.” he compliments and flatters you and it’s taking your mind a while to process that this is not some extreme episode of Punk’d.

“YOU DID NOT! Of course I want the shirt. I was just fronting cause I didn’t wanna seem like that’s the only reason why I wanted to talk to you. Also, thank you. You just seem like someone who’s got his shit together and I really like that. At this stage in life people think I move too fast or that my standards are too high. I think it’s just because I know what I want. I want to be married, I want to be happy and comfortable. I eventually would really like to have kids. I want to have kids young so that I can have even more time loving them and my own little family..” you don’t like to waste time with the small talk. That’s nice too but you like to get straight to the point so that you’ll know if your views on life are aligned. 

And just like that you two begin to connect instantly . You talked and talked for hours from the time he left his trailer to drive home and halfway into the night.

You actually ended up falling asleep on the phone with him because neither one of you wanted to hang up. 

Scheduling conflicts prevented you from meeting up with him the next day but of course that didn’t stop either of you from constantly just wanting to hear from each other. 

4 weeks later after non stop talking and sending pictures and videos of your day when you couldn’t talk to each other. Both of your schedules lined up perfectly and you ended up meeting in Atlanta. 

You met him at a little cozy cafe and he held the prettiest bouquet of scarlet roses in one hand and a coffee for you in the other while standing with a huge smile etched across his face. 

“Hey handsome” you say to him before leaning in to hug him but was not expecting the peck to the lips. 

Even though you’ve discussed it and you’re both “if the vibe is right fun is not off the table” kind of people. 

You kiss his soft plump lips back and thank him for the flowers. Of course given the part of the city that you were in, he was recognized almost immediately by the barista.

“My mama and auntie love your show.They both got me into it too. We thought they were gonna kill you off this season! I was scared for you. If you don't mind, can i have a picture?’ The woman named Ericka asks as she moves from behind the desk .

“Hey Ericka, thank you. I appreciate it, of course.” He replied warmly to her before looking over at you to double check if you’re okay with everything. 

You awkwardly move to the side so that he can have his photo with the giggling fan already batting her eyelashes at him. 

He softly grabs your hand to keep you close to him and shakes his head. He’s lowkey clingy in the cutest way as he moves you behind him so that you aren’t in the photo and wraps your arms around his waist before flashing a smile at the fans phone.

“Thank you so much and you are so pretty!” She says to you before trying to quickly hustle back to work in the quiet slow moving coffee shop. 

“Me? Look at you and your pretty self ! I like your braids too!” You respond sweetly as Tyler beams with pride while watching you interact with the fan. 

“Sorry about all of that” he leans down to whisper in your ear before walking with you out of the coffee shop. 

“I don’t know about you but I ain't even gon’ lie I’m nervous as hell. I’ve been spending the last two weeks trying to figure out the best ways to spoil the hell outta you. I just think you’re incredible. From your story about all that you’ve been through to just like you. I ain’t ever had this before.” he admits and it throws you a little that he was the one nervous to meet you.  

“Nervous to meet me? Tyler, you meet about 50 different beautiful women a day. I’m not saying I’m not the shit cause I am. But no need for nervousness here. I think you’re probably the most down to Earth famous person I’ve met dude. A lot of them are real snotty when I style them and stuff. Just completely out of touch…You’re always busy doing something and I’m always working on something. How about we just do nothing? What’s your favourite way to do nothing?” I get all of my favourite foods and snacks and then I just watch all of my comfort movies and shows and forget about everything going wrong with the world even if just for a little bit.” you admit and he nods along before opening the car door for you.

The entire car ride there wasn’t an awkward moment or any tension hanging in the air. The conversation flowed smoothly all the way from the supermarket to the restaurants for to-go plates, and to his home there. 

There were plates of food of every kind of food you mention from pad thai to sushi, to indian food, mexican, and a plate of soul food cause you couldn’t visit Atlanta and not try some bomb ass soul food while you were there. Not to mention the snacks that you both also picked out. 

He had convinced you that you two should build a blanket fort and he broke out the candles setting the perfect atmosphere for the storm settling in. 

Something about the rain soothed you both as you fell over each laughing and talking about nothing and everything.  

“Okay so let me ask you would have rather been on Fear Factor or Supermarket Sweep? Because this is important. I’d have to go with Supermarket Sweep because I’d rather bust my ass on tv than be in a crate full of cockroaches or something like that. I would freak the fuck out. They was wylin in 2001” you say and Tyler ponders the question for a minute before letting out a pfft.. 

“Easyyyyyy. I will drink the cockroach milkshake over playing on Supermarket sweep. I don’t mess with grocery stores like that. That’s why I order all my stuff online now. I've spent two many of my Saturdays missing Saturday morning cartoons walking around with my grandma and mama while me and my dad trail behind trying to get them to hurry up. Besides skydiving is on my list to do at some point.” he explains and you pretend to gag as he says that he’d take the shake. 

“Good?” he asked with a little laugh as he noticed you had a whipped cream mustache from the caramel hot chocolate that he made for you. 

“Mhm” was the only response he got from you in between swigs of possibly the best caramel hot chocolate you’ve ever had. 

He leans in,  licking it off of your lips before kissing you sweetly and gently tugging on your bottom lip as his tongue runs across it again. 

“I bet you taste better though…” he says against your lips

His hands find your hips as he pulls you onto his lap. 

You learned that he was talented at several things outside of acting and being inside out beautiful and a good 8- . Anyways, something you couldn’t tell your girls about on Monday.

Leaving him was too difficult two days later because you’re both those types of people where if you know , you know that you’ve found your person and both agreed to try and meet each other twice a week. Once for sure so that you try not to miss each other too much. 

Maybe swiping right wasn’t so bad after all.

[unedited so if there’s a few typos i’m sorry i’ll edit them later! ]