#on multiple occasions I have been so relaxed listening to someone I love talk that I get Dozy. Those tend to be the best naps EVER

[twodiamondhoes]

SLAMS DOOR OPEN hello!!! I hear you're looking for lil ficlet ideas!!

I would love to see your take on jimmy and grians relationship 👀👀👀 I simply wish there was more content of them in the world (shippy or non-shippy!!)

If u would like any additional prompts maybe the aftermath of grian taking jimmy out in wildlife????

No pressure at all if the thought doesnt appeal to you, saluting you so much as a fellow traveller on the writing strugglebus right now. GOOD LUCK!!! <3

Hi Theo!! Welcome in, please have a seat! :D

as for Jimmy & (/) Grian I totally agree, I love their dynamic so much!! Time to be the change we want to see in the world XD

Take my hand, we will get through this rough patch together!! <3333

I haven't actually finished either of their WL POVs (Blasphemous as a self-proclaimed Jimmy Main, I know) so IDK how well I can touch on that one, but I did see that clip of Grian joining their phasmo thing late that's floating around and I lost my mind. Have this modern au?? Phasmo au??? IDK but here you go!

Grian sank deeper into the couch cushions, watching some rerun of an ancient Top Gear episode on the TV in front of him. The sound is so low it might as well be muted in favor of listening to Jimmy off in the kitchen, rummaging around in cupboards as they waited for Joel to arrive.

On the screen, Hammond spun out just in time for Jimmy's voice to peak, some offended crescendo about the story he was telling. Something about someone at work.

For the first time in days, Grian felt his lungs fill, untrapped by the vice of panic or stress. He made some sort of noise in response to Jimmy asking if he could believe all of that. He tried to focus on the words, knowing that Jimmy would be more offended at him not listening than he had been at the lady in his story, but relaxation was stealing over him in waves, pulling the steel and the energy from his limbs the longer he sat there.

Jimmy's voice was much closer when he snorted, placing down a mug on the table in front of Grian. He didn't remember telling him what he wanted in his tea, but the label that spun in front of them was his favorite brew. Warmth steeped through him.

"Budge up," Jimmy said, the words floating down through the syrup of Grian's mind instead of crashing through and jarring him back to consciousness. He shuffled back into a mostly upright position, "are you falling asleep on me?"

“No,”Grian scoffed, leaving Jimmy more than enough time to settle in before he slid sideways again so that he could lean heavily on Jimmy’s shoulder. He hooked a grin up at him. “Now I’m falling asleep on you.”

“You utter-I'm not that boring, am I?” Jimmy groused, reaching for the remote. Grian kicked at the coffee table with his foot, scooting it enough that the remote was out of reach.

“As boring as you always are,” Grian said, if only because he couldn’t seem to untangle the emotions caught in the warm mixture in his chest, at least not in a way where he could pull them apart and explain them to Jimmy. “Maybe I’m just tired,” he said, trying to call up a haughty tone, “maybe it’s got nothing to do with you.”

Jimmy grumbled something more under his breath, but shifted so that Grian was resting comfortably at his side, instead of just smushed against him.

"Go on, then,” Jimmy said, settling back against the armrest so they were both halfway to horizontal. “Joel can wake us up when he gets here.”

Grian hid a smile against Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Glad you see things my way.”

[afterglowkatie]

pair of pests: lyon (II) ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 0.9k | second part to this, you tell harper you're moving away

For some reason the thought of telling Harper you were leaving seemed harder than telling your sister and your girlfriend. You had such a special bond with Harper, on multiple occasions she’s referred to you as her sister, and you were afraid that leaving England and moving to a different country would break that bond you had with her. 

You had already told Mini and Clara, you didn’t plan on telling them beforehand but Kyra accidentally let it slip on one of your weekly dinners at Mini’s. 

It was just another night at Mini and Clara’s. Another night where you and Kyra crashed at dinner time, not that either of them cared and Harper definitely loved having you both around, if she had it her way you and Kyra would live with them. 

‘So when are you gonna tell them?’ Kyra blurted, seemingly out of nowhere, after you’d all finished dinner and had migrated to the lounge.

‘What do you mean?’ Your voice had a slight warning tone to it, not that Kyra picked up on it. You had a plan for when you were going to tell everyone else, you’d told Kyra but now realising she definitely wasn’t paying attention to you when you told her. Kyra would argue that she was paying attention to you but it was your fault for trying to tell her while you were both relaxing poolside. 

‘That you’re leaving,’ Kyra said it so nonchalant but you panicked inside. Your head turned to make sure Harper, who was playing with her toys a little bit away from you all, wasn’t listening in.

‘Ky, not now,’ You groaned, rubbing your head with your hands. Promising to explain what Kyra was talking about once Harper had gone to bed.

You’re just thankful that you still get to tell Harper without it coming from someone else. That’s all you wanted, when you finally accepted that you were leaving the life you’d built in England, to be able to tell those closest to you without them finding out from someone else or social media. 

Lyon were already so good to you and you’d only just signed with them but it wasn’t unknown by anyone that you and Harper were like a little duo, a fan favourite duo. So when you asked if you could have a little Lyon jersey with your number and Harper’s name on it, they would’ve been crazy to not give you that. 

You had that little jersey in a small gift bag, there was also one for Koby but he was still too young to properly remember this unlike Harper. Harper still wore the Arsenal jersey you’d gotten her to wear that one match, so you hoped that she would like this one even with the news of you moving away for now.

‘Tiny!’ Harper greeted you by jumping into your arms, ‘My favourite sister!’ The last few years you’d gotten to watch Harper grow and you were going to miss not being so close to them anymore. You’d gotten Kyra to promise you that she would single handedly keep annoying them all for you.

‘Your only sister,’ You heard Mini’s voice yell from inside the doorway. Over the years she had just accepted that you were basically one of hers now as well, Harper would introduce you to everyone as her sister anyway. You let Harper lead you inside, you greeted Mini and Clara quickly before Harper took you to the living room where she was previously playing so you could play with her.

‘Hey Harps, I’ve got something to tell you,’ You spoke slowly, not too sure whether to beat around the bush or blurt it straight out, ‘Also something to give you,’ You held up the little bag in front of the younger girl, ‘Before you open it though, I have to tell you that I won’t be playing with Arsenal anymore so I won’t be around as much as I am for a few years,’

‘Where are you going?’ Even if Harper was semi playing with her toys, you knew you still had her full attention to what you were saying.

‘I won’t be too far, just in France. I’ll be playing with Ellie at Lyon,’ A year ago you and Kyra were looking after Harper and Koby when the topic of your contract came up between you and Kyra. Both of you knowing you only had a year left. Not knowing whether you’d stay at Arsenal or move on to a different club, all Harper told you was that as long as you still had a friend, someone from the national team, at the club playing with you then it didn’t matter where you went.

It was a sweet gesture, Harper just not wanting you to be alone or without any friends though you seemed to easily make friends and fit into any of the clubs you’d already been at, ‘I also got you this little jersey. Just like the Arsenal one but for my new club,’ You took out the jersey and held it up showing her the back. 

There wasn’t any hesitation, Harper put on the jersey as soon as you handed it to her. Running off to show everyone in the house while you followed behind, ‘I’m gonna miss you,’ Harper ran into you, wrapping her arms around you, giving you the biggest hug she could. The weight of your words hitting her that you were going to be in a different country, ‘But I’ll come visit and promise you’ll visit me,’ 

‘You couldn’t keep me away,’ You held up your pinky for Harper to link hers with yours. A pinky promise, one that you wouldn’t dream of ever breaking.

[toastyrobos]

I want you (Rex x female reader) one shot

Never written a Rex one shot before so hopefully it’s not too bad. And yeah I started off kinda angsty😅 sorry

Warning: doubts her worth reader, brief mentions of unwanted flirting, minor hints of suggestive activity towards the end.

Word count: 3388

((Medic for the clones has had a crush on rex for a while now, but doesn't want to tell him for fear of rejection or Rex losing his post. Fives comes in with a minor injury and pushes/ teases her about telling him the truth))

Being a medic for the republic had its ups and downs. But you wouldn't have traded it for anything. You loved your job. Getting to put your endless knowledge of medicine to good use thrilled you, but that usually came with a price. It was difficult to watch so many clones that you had grown friendly with, end up in the med bay or on the operating table. Frankly the latter had been less frequent as of late and that brought you a wave of relief.

   You had a hunch, however that several of the boys, especially from the 501st were purposely injuring themselves just to see you. The idea had crossed your mind before, especially after how many times Fives and Jessie had came to see you. They had become repeat visitors. After a while you paid no mind to. You rather enjoyed their company. That was until on multiple occasions Rex would accompany them.

    You and the captain had grown closer over several rotations and you found a comfort in his presence. He was a good solider and had a kind soul. Would stand up for you when a newbie would question your skill sets or try to flirt with you when you visible uncomfortable. He would always greet you when he returned.

   It had all started when after being deeply wounded on a mission. He blamed himself for what had happened. You being you and seeing what the clones would go through, you eased his pain both physically and emotionally. Telling him that none of it was his fault. That he did everything that he could. He seemed to relax at your words, a genuine smile crossing his lips. One that sent sparks down your body. 

   After that Rex would visit you whenever he could or needed someone to talk to. It would be about anything. Dealing with Fives endless pranks or the struggles of war. You just listened. Letting him vent his frustrations or worries. You always looked forward to seeing him. So much so it started to become the highlight of your week.

Along the way you started to realize it when Fives spotted it out. You had feelings for Rex. It was so gradually that you hadn't realized it until someone made you aware of it. And now it was all you could think about. It made sense. Lately his presence made you nervous. Butterflies would form in your stomach when he came around. And when his hand would brush your shoulder you felt warm. But you knew you couldn't tell him.

    Not when it could mean the stripping of his rank or position. No, you wouldn't do that to him. Not when he worked so hard, sacrificed so much to get where he was.

Besides you weren't worth the risk.

You knew that.

   Fives and Jessie thought otherwise. And they made it a habit to tell you every chance they got. Today was no different. Both he and Echo had managed to get themselves into a fight in the cafeteria over a simple disagreement according to the calmer of the two.

    "It was his fault". Fives grumbled as I looked over his bruised cheek. The purple hue was beginning to set in, but with a bacta patch he'd be healed in no time.

    "Are you sure?" You teased lightly.

Fives scoffed as you gently placed the patch on his cheek. Echo chuckled beside his fellow brother and rolled his eyes, then crossed his arms over his chest plate.

    "You provoked him, Fives".

     "He was asking for it". He voice had a tint of malice to it.

You glanced up at Echo, searching for answers. He shook his head. Whatever had happened in the mess hall had clearly set Fives off.

   "Rex would have let him have it too". He muttered the last part, just loud enough that you could hear it. And it certainly caught your attention. It was rare for the captain to get into fights. Most of them were usually over which clone had made a unwelcome pass at you.

    "Fives". Echo warned him.

     "What happened?" You paid no attention to Echo's warning. You had a hunch what had set the arc trooper off.

    "Newbie couldn't keep his snide comments about you to himself". He growled protectively. You signed.

    "He's not the first one to do so and he's probably not going to be the last".

Out of the corner of your eyes you could see his fist and jaw clench. You hated seeing him upset, just as much as he and the others hated how some of their fellow brothers saw and treated you. Hated that so many of them only saw you as something they wanted to get with. Like you were a personal score for them if they managed to get you back in their barracks.

    It unnerved you at times, but unfortunately you had gotten used to it. Though most of the 501st wished you hadn't. They despised the comments that were made. Fives, Echo, and Jessie, especially Rex were enraged by it.

To them you were a friend. A companion. Someone that would listen when they needed a softer touch and you enjoyed it. And that's all you needed. Their thoughts and opinions of you were the ones that truly mattered to you.

    "If Rex was there he would have put that shiny in his place". He grinned, hitting his fist together.

   "Ow". He groaned at his still very much injured arm.

   "How many times have I told you, take it easy". You reminded him, your hands on your hips.

Fives smirked and before he could answer Echo beat him to it, "Have you met him?"

You smiled and nodded. "I have".

    "Hey I'm right here!" He scoffed, playfully. "I take offense to that". You rolled your eyes. Leave it to Five to play up the dramatics. He moved his arm in his ball socket, adjusting it to see how much movement he would have until it fully healed in several weeks time. It was his next comment that threw you off. "Well either way they and everyone else better watch out. No one messes with Rex's girl".

    "I'm not his girl". You were quick to correct him while your cheeks stained a light pink. Betraying you.

    "But you could be". He suggested. You shook your head, trying to ignore him.

   "No I can't".

His gaze snapped to your figure, a brow raised. "Why not? You clearly like him and all of us can painfully see that the captain likes you back". He was quick to respond.

You could not entertain the notion that Rex might potentially like you back. There was just no way. The idea seemed laughable. For starters he was a clone and they took an oath to forgo all romantic relationships. Or at least some of them had. It was quite well known that dozens of them had minor flings here and there. A few even had long standing partners, but still. Rex didn't seem like the type to do so.

And more importantly he was the captain of the 501st.

Out of your rank.

You sighed. "For starters you all are not allowed to have those kind of relationships".

    "Yet we do". He smirked.

You sat your hands on the counter, gripping it firmly, and faced away from him. "And Rex is a captain.". You turned your head to the side. "I'm just a simple medic. He deserves someone more on his level".

     "That's bullshit!" Fives sudden raised voice startled you as did his figure looming over you.

    "It isn't!" You replied just as confidently.

You startled yourself with your tone. You never usually raised your voice at them. Fives was taken a back by it. You quickly looked away from them both. With your next statement you tried to De-escalate the situation.

    "I will not entertain such a fantasy when I know where it leads". Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Your quickly wiped them away. "And I will not risk Rex losing his command nor his position. He's worked too hard for it".

Fives saw the hurt flash in your eyes and sighed. "He has, but I know the captain. We both do". He pointed towards Echo, who was giving me a sympathetic glance.       

"He's right".

      "He cares about you and I-"

     "Fives, Echo". All three of you turned to see Jessie geared up, standing in the doorway. No doubt prepared up for a new mission. After all they had to ready at a moments notice.

    "General Skywalker needs our assistance on Aurora. Let's move it". You gestured to the friendly face.

    "You better go".

Echo reached for his helmet and walked away from the awkwardness that was forming, but not before flashing you a kind smile. Fives just stayed in place. He was so sure he had crossed a line by pushing you, but you placed a hand on his arm.

     "It's okay".

Whether he believed you or not he couldn't linger to find out. He was needed elsewhere and you were not going to hold him back. You were just a simple medic after all.

~~~

You weren't sure how long you had been working on the pile of paperwork, but it must have been late. You stretched your body out from the hunched over position it had been in. A yawn escaped your lips and you knew that it was time to turn in for the night.

A knocking sound pulled your attention to the doorway. Your eyes slightly widened at the armored figure of your distress standing at the entrance to your work station. What was he doing here? Especially at this late hour.

You opened your mouth to ask him that exact question but halted when you noticed his somber expression. Something was visibly wrong. He pressed the button, closing the door behind him and slowly strode towards you.

   This was not the first time you had seen the captain like this, however something about the look in his eyes this time spoke to you that this was something else. A thought that had been eating away at him and he wanted to get it off his chest. And like always you would be here to listen.

    "Rex?" You managed to get out. Your voice taking on a softer tone.

You usually only used it when he was overwhelmed. Under pressure. Lately it had been coming out more often as the war raged on. Rex needed a gentle reminder that what he was fighting for mattered. Other times he said he enjoyed the sound of your voice. It helped to relax him. If you could give him slight pockets of peace, that focused his mind out there on the front lines then you would continue to do. Even if his off handed compliments sent your heart aflame.

     "Fives told me what happened".

You felt your breathing hitch. You swallowed nervously. He took in your silence and when you didn't answer him, he called your name gently. When he reached your space his breath hitched in his throat at your watery eyes. He saw you quickly rub them away. He reached out his hand with the intention to touch it to yours and grip it between his. He wanted to know the feeling of your hands tangling together with his. He just wanted to touch you in a way that was more then a mere pat or brush.

   But he was holding back, afraid that you wouldn't feel that way about him. Those fears vanished the minute Fives told him how you felt. How you saw yourself in comparison to him. He was over the moon that you cared for him just as much as he did.

But he hated how you viewed yourself. You were a gorgeous to him. Enchanting even. The way your blue eyes glistened when they caught the light or how your smile lite up a room. To say he was under your spell was an understatement. And it took everything in him not to tell you.

    "Why didn't you tell me?"

You knew he was going to ask that. He had all the answers, but he wanted to hear it straight from your lips.

You bit back another wave of tears that were threatening to slip out. "I-I didn't....I didn't think you'd feel the same way". You choked out.

Didn't think he'd feel the same way? He nearly scoffed at your answer. How could he not care for you?

Yes, you were beautiful. There was no denying that. But it was your kind spirit and heart that he came to love. Your endless compassion to the hardships of war. The way you were able to sooth him after a difficult day. He sought you out not just for someone to talk to but because he liked being in your presence. You were calming to him. And he just wanted you to know all of it as badly as he wanted to crash his lips into yours.

    "Don't feel the same way? How could you think that I wouldn't?"

You froze.

Then you snapped your eyes to met his muscular form.  "What?"

He took a step forward, hoping that he hadn't scared you off with his words. "I care about you".

Startled by his words as you were you shook your head.

Tears streamed down your cheeks. "You can't- we can't. Rex you could lose your status as captain!"

Rex moved closer. "I don't care". He stated firm like it was an order.

And he meant it. Knowing that you felt the same about him, he was not going to let you slip through his fingers. Again you shook your head, hugging yourself and avoiding his intense gaze. He should have cared. He should have walked away. You should have walked away.

     "Rex, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I cost you everything-"

Rex grabbed her chin in the crock of his rough gloved finger and angled it up to face him. You met his brown eyes. He dipped his face lower, stopping mere inches from yours. Your noses nearly touching. Your breath caught in your throat from such close proximity. He too was surprised by his sudden closeness to you, but this is what he wanted. And he now knew you wanted it too.

    "I want you". He whispered so delicately, but with such a force you thought your body would melt. Scarlet painted your cheeks. Seeing the reaction you had to his words made him smirk.

You couldn't believe what he just spoke to you. What he confessed to you.

An impossible fantasy that had lived in your head for many cycles was coming true before your very eyes. But you were weary of it. It seemed too good to be true. And you had to have known that. Had to remind yourself of it.

    "Rex..." your voice trailed off just as Rex touched his hand to your cheek, gently caressing it. Warmth seeped into your whole body at the simple touch. You felt you would come undone from that sensation alone.

    "I know what I'm risking and I don't care. I want this". His lips hovered over yours. "I want you"

     In a fraction of a minute Rex's demeanor had changed from one of frustration to one of needing. Begging. He was pleading with you to chose him and you desperately wanted to. There was an ache in you. A desire to be his. You wanted it so badly. To give yourself over to him. But the risk was so great.

Rex closed his other hand around your lower back, bringing you even closer to him. Your body hitting the chest section of his battle stained armor. His warm eyes stared into you. It was like he had you under a trance. The very same that had him when he stared at you. You couldn't look away from them and you didn't want to. Neither could he.

   The logical side of you was screaming at you to push him away. Tell you that you couldn't do this and that the risk was too great.

But the other side of you. The one that wanted him was stronger. More powerful. A shining thought to contrast the doubt within you.

    "But-"

    "Your worth the risk mesh'la. Believe me".

Again your cheeks turned a deep shade of red. You had heard Mandalorian terms of endearment before, but hearing it directed at you was another story. And seeing how it made you blush intensely caused the caption to smile successfully to himself.

You couldn't deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him. Neither could he. Nor could he ignore how inviting your lips looked as his gaze slid to them. You watched him with such anticipation. The feeling of them on yours was a dream you had thought about many times and now it seemed that it was becoming a reality.

He dipped his head lower, enough for your noses to brush and that simple light graze heated your skin. His lips hovered even closer until they didn't.

When his lips brushed over, then collided onto yours, It was like a moth drawn to a flame. And like a moth you were bewitched by his lips. They felt so good, so right, against your own. Rex knew it too. He pushed deeper, wanting to taste them so feverishly on his. Wanted your taste to coat the very surface.

He snaked his hand down to your hip with the other cupped the back of your head, fingers digging into your hair. Fire swarmed to the places his hands held. The one on the back of your head was so comforting, yet forceful. While the other hand pressed at your hip was electrifying. Just like the kiss.

From the second he touched his lips to yours, both of you experienced such a euphoric high. Like a billon stars shining at once. It felt so good. It felt so right.

You didn't have much experience with kissing someone but he took the lead. Leading the two of you on this exhilarating dance of lips and his hands that roamed across your back, over your curves. And you let him. Let him grip your hips. Let him push you up against the wall. Leaving a burning trail of kisses down your neck, and making you feel disoriented.

He had a taste of you finally and did not want to let it go. But he couldn't indulge himself. Not in the way he wanted too. At least not in this moment. He wanted you, but wanted to ease into things with you. Wanted you to feel comfortable. He truly just wanted to give you the world. Because you deserved it. You always did.

You were the first to pull away, a bit dizzy from that whirlwind experience. But you didn't move away from him, no. You placed your hands on his chest piece, both of you catching your breath.

Your mind was still racing from the high.

    "That was-"

You nodded slowly. "Y-yeah".

It was then that you realized that you didn't care about the risk anymore. Yes, it would still sting if Rex had his rank stripped, but you wanted to give this a try. You wanted to be his. And him yours. He wanted that too. Now more then anything.

    "Say you'll be mine". His voice was as graceful as a whisper.

You did not hesitate to answer him, your mind fully made up.

    "Yes".

[imightgetbetter]

might get better

this has been the most requested story on this blog pretty much since i started writing for this series-ish story. i understand how heavy this topic is, and very much understand the severity of it. i'm not writing anything to make light of it or to minimize it or romanticize it, which is why nothing is explicitly mentioned or detailed, it pretty much beats around the bush but you know what's going on, you know what's being talked about. with that being said, if you are not comfortable even thinking about addiction, don't read this. obviously, there is a happy ending, but don't put yourself through anything you don't need to. i encourage you to leave kind messages and thoughts, if you're going to be mean, please think twice. this is a longer piece, over four thousand words, so also keep that in mind. i hope i did this justice. thank you for reading. cw: mentions of addiction, angst

Matty is tickling Attie in your bedroom, you can hear her tiny giggles echoing around the room. He’s just stepped away from getting ready with you, nearly fully dressed, his hair perfectly curled and styled, hanging loosely on his forehead. Attie is off with Adam and Carly for the night, and you can feel your heart twisting thinking about leaving her when you’re about to celebrate something so amazing in your career. Matty will be by your side, but you want Attie to know that you’ve done this, that all those hours spend nursing her in front of the computer screen led to this, led to a moment that you pray she’s proud of you for. Matty’s laughter is what draws you away from the bathroom mirror and your thoughts, your head peeking around the doorframe and watching the two of them. His relationship with her is everything you dreamt of, and it’s hard to think about where you were so long ago, about what you said to him. Tonight is a reminder of those moments, of the darkest times in your relationship, and the way you and Matty had to work really hard to get things to where they are now.

“Attie, look at how pretty Mummy is,” Matty says suddenly, lifting Attie onto his waist and walking into the bathroom, the three of you standing side by side in the mirror. “You look so incredible, my love. I can’t believe you’re all mine, tonight.” His lips touch your hair as you blush, his hands gently setting Attie on her feet and telling her to go play before turning towards you. “You’re all in your head. Get out of there.”

“You have said on multiple occasions that you want to be inside my head,” you say, tilting your head in his hands and looking at him, your whole body relaxing under his gaze. “I’m scared.”

“Of?”

“Of everything,” you whisper, closing your eyes and leaning your head barely against his chest, afraid of getting makeup on his suit. “I wrote this novel in the worst time in our lives and I rewrote it when I was in the midst of all the postpartum emotions with Attie. I just, what if everyone thinks I don’t deserve it?” Matty’s eyes are burning into yours as you spill out every thought in your head, just as he always asks you to do. “I’m really scared that even with what I wrote, even with what I say, I haven’t done for our story what it deserves.”

“Gorgeous, are you listening to me?” Matty says, waiting for you to nod quietly before continuing. “That work of art you created, that tells the story of what someone goes through when they love someone that’s an addict, it’s something not many people could do. You,” he says with a wetness to his voice that makes you want to cry, “you told our story with such grace and love and care, and I couldn’t have pictured it being written any other way. You deserve all the praise in the world. I won’t listen to you say anything less than that.”

“I love you,” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly, his arms squeezing around your waist. Matty hums against you, holding you against his chest. “You look so handsome. I’m going to take advantage of you later.”

“Oh? You’re going to take advantage of me?” Matty smirks against your neck, kissing you repeatedly. He laughs when you nod against him, hiding his face in your neck as you sway back and forth for a moment. “Attie is too quiet. I should go check on her before we find her hanging from a chandelier with Mayhem.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you laugh, reluctantly pulling away from him and patting his backside on the way out the door. “I love you.”

“I love you more, beautiful,” Matty grins, winking at you as he walks out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, searching around for your daughter. “Attie James! Are you hanging from the ceiling, again?”

Matty’s voice echoes around the house, and you can hear Attie’s tiny, mischievous giggles filtering in after him. He is the best father. Quite honestly, better than you imagined him to be when you found out you were pregnant a few years ago. Attie adores him, and you are certain you’ve never been more in love with him. And yet, Matty somehow challenges that idea, every single day. Hearing him, seeing him with your daughter, it’s hard to believe there was ever a moment in your life where you questioned being with him, where you said that he wouldn’t make a partner and a good parent. It’s hard to believe that there was a time where you had left.

All the things you said all those years ago still linger, albeit in a different capacity, but the reminder of what was is weighing heavily on you as you prepare yourself to giving a speech about the very worst moment in your life, the moments you told Matty that you were leaving.

Only ten feet stand between the base of the stairs and the front door. Only ten feet stand between where you are and where the jingling keys are making noise from outside. Only ten feet.

Only ten feet that feels like twenty, especially when it’s been hours since Matty was meant to come home, hours since your meeting with your agent and editor – a meeting he was meant to be at – and hours since you got home alone to an empty house.

Matty stumbles in over the welcome mat, swearing under his breath as he tosses his keys on the side table and toes off his shoes. He brushes his hair back away from his forehead before looking up and seeing you. He jumps, “Fucking hell, YN. You scared me.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you say first, your eyes cast on your arms folded over your knees. You never thought you’d have to say these words, not to him, and they feel heavy and foreign on your tongue. “Are you cheating on me?”

Matty rubs his hands over his face, “What?”

“Are you cheating on me?” you say again wiping the tears from your face and standing upright, your arms folded over your chest. He is standing too far from you, but you need him to stay there, you can’t give in, you can’t forget how you’re feeling. “Just tell me.”

“No! I’m not cheating on you. Why would you even say that?”

“Why would I even say that,” you laugh sarcastically, shaking your head as you climb off the stairs and stand in front of him. “You missed a really important dinner, tonight. Did you forget that?”

“Shit.”

“That’s all you have to say? Shit?” you say angrily, your eyes welling with tears as you watch him try to collect his thoughts. He’s been different for a while, you knew this, you were just getting painfully good at pretending he wasn’t. He reaches out to you, and you know what will happen. You know you’ll give in. You turn away, storming up the stairs, the tears falling freely down your cheeks as you rush into the bedroom and quickly grab a bag from your side of the closet. Matty follows you, quickly and panicked up the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know,” you lie, trying desperately not to tell him. He’ll find out eventually. Everyone knows where you’re going. Everyone but him.

“All because I missed your dinner?”

“No, Matty. Not because of the fucking dinner.” His eyes are welling with tears when you turn to face him, the clothes thrown into your bag a messy array of things you could pull from your dresser. “You’re lying to me. You’re lying to everyone. You come home late. No one knows where you are.”

“I’m not cheating on you. I swear.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I had a long day. Can we please do this tomorrow? I have a headache,” Matty grumbles, walking deeper into the bedroom and reaching for your bag. Quickly, you pull it away, zipping it up and tossing it towards the door. “Don’t start driving now. It’s late.” Matty grabs your wrist and turns you around, and the words bubbling in your throat escape before you can stop yourself.

“You would make a terrible father, Matty.”

Matty’s hand suddenly goes limp around your wrist. “Hold on a second.”

You grab the duffle bag quickly, slinging it over your shoulder and walking towards the door, stopping momentarily to say, “If by some chance I am pregnant, and you better pray to a god that I am not, you are taking me to take care of it and then we’re done. I’m done with you.”

“You think you’re pregnant?”

“Oh my god,” you laugh wetly, shaking your head and drying your eyes quickly, “you are such an asshole. You are such an asshole and I can’t believe I love you.” Your eyes are hazy when you hurry down the stairs and grab your keys from the side table, his footsteps hurrying behind you.

Matty follows you out to your car, holding the door open when you get into the driver’s seat and start the engine. “Can you pause for just a second? You think you’re pregnant?” His eyes are returning to their typical softness, to the honey color that you adore. “Why do you want to get rid of it? Why didn’t you tell me? Why can’t we talk about this?”

“I can’t talk to you,” you cry, harshly wiping your cheeks and trying to stare in front of you, not daring to look at him.

“YN, we don’t have do anything drastic. Having a baby is something we talked about, you know? Okay, so, we get married and all that a bit earlier than we planned. Why’s that such an issue?”

“Wow,” you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, nodding as you swallow back a fresh set of tears. “My big proposal is because my strung out boyfriend might’ve gotten me pregnant. Very romantic.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m tripping over my words.”

“How did you mean it? Getting married because you think I might be pregnant. That’s pretty much it, Matty. I don’t know about you, but that’s not how I pictured us getting married. Especially not with you out of your mind like how you are, right now.”

“Come inside and we’ll go to sleep and wake up and talk about this,” Matty says softly, gently laying his hand on yours on the steering wheel. “Please, baby.”

“No, I can’t even look at you,” you say, and you can know what you have to say, you know the words that need to be said for him to get his head on straight, but you don’t want to tell him, you don’t want to say a thing. “Maybe losing me doesn’t matter, but maybe losing your friends will.”

“You can’t tell them, YN. It was only one time.”

“Why not? Why can’t I tell them? Especially since you just keep lying to me.” Matty pulls his hand away from you, and for the first time, you look at him, and you see that he’s crying, too. “I already told them. Maybe you don’t give a fuck about me, but I know you care about them.”

“Don’t do this. I thought you were on my side.”

“No, I am not on your side for this, Matty,” you say, the words on your tongue feeling like bile in your throat. “I’m not on your side, because whatever is going on is making me fall out of love with you.” Matty steps back, and you take the opportunity to shut the door, the tears on your cheeks blinding you as you reverse out of the driveway and pull away as fast as possible.

Matty is standing at the edge of the driveway as you pull away, his figure growing smaller and smaller as you watch him in the rear view mirror. He doesn’t take long to rush to his phone and start calling you, and you have to force yourself to turn off your phone. He’s going to find you eventually, it won’t take very long to figure out that you’ve hidden yourself at George’s, but you need time to think, and to sort out what you’re going to say to him when he finally reaches out.

George gets a call rather quickly, as you both anticipated. He says that he doesn’t know where you are, that he hasn’t heard from you, all while you’re sitting in a pile under blankets on his couch. He offers you a sweatshirt, but you decline, taking one of Matty’s out of your bag and bringing it over yourself. His is bigger on you, warm around your body. His smells like him, like him before all this. George’s words are drowned out in your head, a mess of syllables as you listen to him argue about why Matty can’t come over. He must’ve agreed, because George hangs up the phone and comes and sits beside you, patting your knee soothingly.

“I think you should go into my room, love,” George says softly, his hand held out for yours and encouraging you to stand. “I don’t know how ugly this is going to get. Adam and Ross are coming, now. I just, I don’t know what he’s going to say and I don’t want you to hear something you shouldn’t. He’s not all there right now, you know? He probably doesn’t mean half the things he’s saying.”

“I don’t want to hide,” you say brokenly, a voice coming from you that you don’t even recognize. “He should know that I’m going to leave, if he doesn’t listen to you, to us.”

George nods and stands, walking towards the front door and letting Adam and Ross inside, the stars shining through the drawn curtains. All of you look like you haven’t slept in days, and you wonder if they haven’t, if this has been affecting them the way it’s been affecting you. Adam sits with you for a while, for the time while they wait for Matty to knock on the door. His knocks are loud and angry, startling you from your blanketed cocoon on the couch.

Matty and George’s voices are loud from the entryway, and you can feel Adam stand on his feet and Ross move closer to you, standing in front of you to block you from here Matty presumably is storming in.

“What the hell is this?” Matty asks exasperatedly, his curls limply clinging to his forehead with sweat. His looks around the room, staring into the faces of George, Ross, and Adam, and he knows exactly what is happening. “You lot are ridiculous.”

Matty’s reaction is exactly what you anticipated, the denial, the anger. His shouting amongst everyone else’s is deafening and you can feel your head wanting to explode with every raised voice. His arguments and harsh words broke your heart, especially knowing that he doesn’t really mean it. Matty looks between Adam and Ross, addressing you, “You think all this, too? You’re against me, too?”

His words make the air leave your lungs, your body shaky as you stand on your feet. “I have never once been against you, Matty. I love you. I love you and I don’t want to see you ruin your life, ruin my life with whatever the hell you’re doing. I won’t do this. I won’t. You’re making me not love you.” Matty’s eyes instantly wash over, and you grab the blanket to wrap around your body, to hide you from everything you’re feeling. “You have five minutes to figure out what you want to do. They’ll take you somewhere, if you want to. If you don’t, I’m moving out tomorrow and we’re over. I’ll never speak to you again. I mean it. I won’t watch you ruin your life.”

“I’ll go. I’ll go,” Matty says, not giving any option a second thought. His eyes are pouring into yours, seeing if you’re lying, if you’re just trying to trick him. “I’ll go. I’ll do anything.”

“George will take you in the morning,” you say quietly, cocooning the blanket around your body and moving around the guys, trying to make your way out of the room. “I’ll see you before you leave.” Matty is silent as you leave the room and it takes everything in you not to turn around and wrap your arms around him and promise him that everything is going to be okay.

Hours pass slowly through the night, and you’re sure that nothing has ever felt this horribly. Nothing has ever felt as bad as telling the love of your life that you don’t love them anymore. Nothing has ever felt as horrible as looking at the person you love most and knowing that you have to say the worst things imaginable to help them. Hours pass, and before you realize it, the sun is rising and you know that very soon, everyone will be back in the house saying goodbye.

George nods for Ross and Adam to walk out with him, leaving you and Matty by yourselves. Matty stands much too far for your liking, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him to come closer. Matty sighs, taking two steps closer to you, lowering his voice to a whisper when he says, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Am I going to come back to all your stuff moved out?”

“No, not if you take this seriously,” you say, swallowing back your tears and meeting his red-rimmed stare. “I’m not going to do this, again. I’ll do it once. I’ll wait for you one time, Matty.”

Matty steps forward, and you immediately wrap yourself in his arms, holding him tightly against you. His tears wet your sweatshirt, and you can feel the reluctance and fear and shame in the silence. “Have I lost you for good? Can I ever come back from this?”

“You didn’t lose me,” you whisper, pulling away from him reluctantly and grabbing his cheeks. “I love you. Do you believe me?”

“I believe you,” Matty says quietly, the tears on his cheeks falling onto the pads of your thumbs. “Can I have one thing before I leave?” He waits for you to nod, knowing what he’s asking for. Matty kisses you gently, a kiss that says everything you can’t, and you savor it, savor it for knowing that when you see him next, things will be different, you’re both going to be different.

“And this year’s Pulitzer Prize goes to YN YLN for A Million Lifetimes.”

Matty stands with you, clapping loudly and whistling as you take a deep breath, holding your speech in your hands tightly, smiling against Matty’s mouth as he kisses you sweetly. “I love you, Sally,” he says with a smile, laughing when you shake your head and smack the papers against his chest.

Counting your steps carefully to the platformed podium, you hold the satin green dress by the hem, trying desperately to avoid tripping yourself. Matty is directly in your line of sight, smiling ear to ear, and you swear you’ve never felt more loved in your entire life. Out in front of you, your speech is laid out, a speech you memorized and repeated over and over again to your agent and editor, trying to perfect it. Taking a breath, you swallow your nerves, locking eyes with Matty and pretending that you’re saying everything to him.

“A Million Lifetimes is not a story I thought of randomly, nor is it a fictional story with no substance or background. A Million Lifetimes is a story close to me, because it is a fictional version of my love story. My love story is much like that of the characters. I fell in love at fifteen. I went away to university. I finally after years and years agreed to date the love of my life, after he had waited for me. I travelled the world with my best friends. I was so unbelievably happy. Knowing that this story is that of my life, also means addiction nearly ruined my relationship, my happiness. Addiction and Mental Health is so rarely talked about candidly, that we always see these stories ending in tragedy, in upset. Not this story. Not my story,” you say, looking away from your paper and looking into the audience, all the thoughtful stares and generous smiles making you feel more comfortable. Matty is staring at you with awe, and you want nothing more than to walk over and bring him on stage and say, This is the love of my life! This is the person that inspires me! This is him! He’s the reason I write and the reason I sing in the kitchen and the reason I want to believe in myself! It’s him! His hand over his heart says enough. “I learned firsthand what it means to love someone with addiction, and I learned firsthand what it means to not give up. Mental Health should be talked about more. Addiction should be talked about more. All of us have platforms and abilities to write and educate, and yet, so many of us don’t. I didn’t. I wrote this story in the height of my emotions when this was happening to me. I rewrote it when I was in the height of postpartum emotions, a few years back.” Matty’s eyes are beating into yours, you can feel it. “I used to think that this book wouldn’t do what it needed to. That I wouldn’t teach anybody anything. And yet, the longer the book is out, the more it’s talked about, the more I realize that my story is teaching people something, anything, and that to me is worth every tear I spent writing. I’ll continue using my voice to teach others, to inspire them to never give up. Most importantly, I want people to know, that the parts of ourselves that we deem unlovable, are always, can always be loved by someone else, even if you don’t believe it.” Matty stands and you lay your hand over your heart, staring at him with a smile. “Thank you to the love of my life, who I have loved since I was fifteen, who has inspired so many of my love stories. Thank you for inspiring my passion for falling in love, day after day. I wouldn’t have written this story without our story, and I am eternally grateful for you trusting me to tell my story.” Matty is crying, now, and you are, too. “Over a decade ago, I wrote on a very cheesy card, I didn’t say I was in love with you, but that doesn’t mean I am not fond of the ground you walk on. I’d wait a lifetime to walk alongside the ground you walk on.”

Ovations after ovations. Matty whistles and there are tears in your eyes and you’re holding your speech in your hand as you walk back to your table, hugging your agents and editors and your publishing house and soaking in every moment until you get to him, until the love of your life is standing in front of you, grabbing your cheeks and bringing your face to his, his nose brushing against yours. “You will forever have a much better way with words than I do, darling.”

“I’d like to think you can compare,” you hum, your eyes tracing his. His eyes are bright, wide, and you can see yourself clearly in them, you can see exactly who he sees – his wife, the mother of his children, his very best friend, his confidant, the one who makes him smile, his very first good morning and very last goodnight, his lover, his laughter, his muse, and inspiration. “I love you, from the very depth of my bones to the tips of my toes.”

Matty kisses you, your cheeks held tightly in his hands. He continues to kiss you, over and over, until he pulls away, only for a moment to say, “I need a million lifetimes with you. One is not simply enough.”

[shytastemakerthing]

Hi! How are you doing? If its okay I would like Twst and romance please on match up. Make sure not to over work yourself and take plenty of breaks! Thank you!

Lets see, my health is pretty bad. So I have to rest often. Its okay, it gives me time to play video games and watch videos. Though there are days where I am too weak and just sleep.

History is my passion, well military history. I love studing military history. Sadly I tend to scare people off when I speak of historic battles. I wasn't even going into gorey details either. So I learned to keep it shut.

Dark humor, I have it. I warn new friends that I have it. It slips out when I'm sick and when I have my guard down. My guard is usually up so try not to let any jokes slip.

Final bit would be, I am a mother hen. I cant relax if someone is out. I will scold them if they are out too late. Once everyone is safe, I can relax.

I hope this wasnt too much! Thank you! Have a good day!

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, Anon! I hope that you are well and are staying hydrated! I also hope that you enjoy your matchup!

I match you with.......

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇 Okay, this fae was a literal war General and was in the Briar Valley military for YEARS. Needless to say, he has plenty of stories about battles that he has seen and been in, and he will not ne sparing any details, as he sees you are quite interested in them.

🦇 He loves that you love history as much as you do. As someone who has been around for an insane amount of time (do we even know how old he actually is??), and has seen things that one can only dream of, he is the perfect person to talk to you about this passion. After all, he was THERE.

🦇 Look at this fae and tell me he doesn't have some twisted sense of humor? You two cibe rather well on this spectrum. You may work to keep yourself under control around other people but he just let's it all go full throttle. What's life without some morbid laughs?

🦇 It's Canon that this fae plays video games. This means you bith play together all of the time. He has a set up just for you in his room and there has been more than knew occasion that Silver has has to remind the both of you to sleep. Do fae really sleep that much, anyways? I have no clue.

🦇 For the sake of tour already bad health, DO NOT LET HIM COOK FOR YOU. I can not stress that enough! Your health is bad enough without his cooking threatening to turn you into a hashtag and being locked away in a forever box. You have been saved by multiple Diasomnia members throughout your relationship.

🦇 By being with Lilia, this also means you're a mom now. He and Silver come as a package deal, no 'if', 'and', or 'but', about it. But seeing as you already have a motherly personality, meaning you vibe really well with Silver as well, everyone is happy

🦇 By extension, you also get Malleus. Sebek is still up in the air (he has no choice but to respect you, you're dating Lilia for crying out loud)

🦇 On the days where you are just too weak and spend the day sleeping, he is sure to do regular checkups on you. Most of the time, he will just carry you off to his room where you can sleep peacefully and comfortably. (He has experience with doing this to Silver on more than one occassion)

🦇 Overall, he loves being able to take care of you on your bad days (again, do NOT let him cook for you), listen to the dark humor that you are able to come in with, and then sharing stories about battles he has been in or listening to you ramble on about whatever historical events and battles you had read on yourself. He loves you for who you are and he would have it no other way.

[bleetusmcyeetus]

(This got long lmaooo)

Awwww aint no way that BOTH of my parents have chosen to be pissy tonight bro what the fuck–

I have also been made aware of a few Important things by mother:

- Saying “yep“ instead of “yes“ is a horrible, HORRIBLE crime and I shall NEVER do it EVER again because NO even though the whole reason I say “yep“ to her is because I thought being at home meant you could be casual and relaxed and saying that instead of “yes“ is casual

- Not turning on the fan, fixing my towel, and spreading out the curtain after taking a shower are AWFUL, HORRIBLE THINGS THAT SHE HAS TOLD ME ON MULTIPLE OCCASIONS TO DO AND I NEED TO REMEMBER IT AND WE ARE GOING TO GET MOLD, YOU KNOW HOW MOLD WORKS YOU KNOW THIS DO YOU WANT TO SCRUB MOLD OFF THE BATHROOM WALLS??? even though no one has ever told me hold mold works and I'm like 90% sure I have ADHD which definitely could be contributing to me forgetting to do it

- WHY DO YOU MUMBLE SO MUCH. STOP MUMBLING. I CANT HEAR A WORD YOU SAY YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER DO YOU TALK THIS WAY TO YOUR TEACHER? THEN DONT TALK LIKE THIS TO ME– bitch maybe you just need to GET YOUR FUCKING EARS CHECKED

- I need to pay attention more. I need to hear every single word my mother says and ALWAYS be listening for when she says something because asking her to repeat herself is a HORRIBLE, UNFORGIVABLE truly AWFUL CRIME because MY FUCKING BAD that I just DIDNT HEAR WHAT YOU SAID BITCH–

- I still have not remembered to ask my ELA teacher what book we are reading first. Even though YOU are the one who wants to know, not ME, why can YOU not fucking email her YOURSELF since YOU are the one who WANTS TO KNOW, not fucking ME

- ALSO. WHY DID YOU BUY THE ENTIRE FUCKING TEXTBOOK THAT WE ARE DOING WHEN SHE SAID SHE’LL POST WHAT WE’RE DOING IN THE GOOGLE CLASSROOM SO WE CAN LOOK AT THAT. WHY ARE YOU CONSIDERING NOT LETTING ME READ NIGHT JUST BECAUSE OF ONE FUCKING PARAGRAPH OF SEXUAL CONTENT. I’M GONNA LEARN EVENTUALLY BITCH LET IT BE NOW.

- WHY DID YOU MARRY MY LAZY FATHER IF YOU CLEARLY DON’T LOVE HIM. JUST LEAVE ALREADY, THEN I WON’T BE FEARING FOR MY LIFE AROUND YOU–

- WHY CANT YOU GO GET CHECKED BY A DOCTOR? HUH?? WHY CANT YOU GO HAVE SOMEONE TELL THAT YOU HAVE ANGER ISSUES THAT EVEN I, A. FUCKING. MINOR. WITH NO KNOWLEDGE IN ISSUES, CAN SEE. WHY CANT YOU FORGET WHAT YOUR ASSHOLE FATHER TOLD YOU FOR FIVE DAMN SECONDS, YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE AGRESSIVE WITH EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING TO GET WHAT YOU WANT–

Anyways, that’s that🥰🥰

[jimin-bangtan]

My Pre-release & Post-release FACE thoughts

Jimin’s mini solo album called FACE (2023)

My PRE-release impressions (2023.02.27)

Details about Jimin's first solo album have recently been released. It only has 6 songs.  1 is a continuation of Suga’s already released song “Set Me Free “.   2 songs are the same - one version in English, the other in Korean, and 1 is an interlude with no lyrics. So there are 4 unique songs.

The album case is very underwhelming.  Jimin may have a reason for it, but it’s very plain and bland.  His name nor his image are present in any clear way or at all. 

The teasers have shown Jimin rapping, playing guitar, and the audio snips do not intrigue me.  I hope the actual presentation is better than what I’m seeing at the moment.

HOWEVER, there were pictures of Jimin working with other famous producers and some of them are on this EP (extended play) album. SO there’s hope that another album will be released after this one or perhaps multiple singles.  

JMs rollout is being muddied by nasty fans and haters and his company. Possibly due to military service enlistments, HYBE is announcing other member’s projects at the same time, which pulls attention away from JMs first effort.  He has not had many other projects but the others have already put out material. So…I’m a bit annoyed, but in honesty, Jimin often gets shafted; HOWEVER, he usually rises to the occasion and is successful anyway. It would be nice for him not to have to fight for every achievement. 

BTW the company is finally releasing his other solo songs (Promise & Christmas Love) officially to streaming platforms, several years after their initial releases. :-/

My POST-release impressions (2023.03.26)

I have now listened to the entire album and watched the accompanying music videos and dance practices. Jimin’s mini solo album called FACE (2023) actually has 7 (0 skip) songs. 

The album, Face, is said to not be about Jimin’s handsome face but about Jimin having to face himself in order to grow and be free. It had been highly anticipated by fans, nemeses, & the industry.

My first impression is that my pre-release impressions were proven insufficient to what was actually delivered. Jimin's product, as always, exceeded my expectations. Jimin’s songs are all wonderful, and his voice sounds beautiful.  There is a lot of variety & creativity in the types of songs and the production of the tracks. The matching videos are well done for Set Me Free Part2 and Like Crazy. Jimin's dancing is, as always, stellar. The lyrics are very open and honest.  All of the songs have a dark, troubling thread, revealing someone who is struggling but who ultimately triumphs.  Alcohol is mentioned in every song as a problem: the overindulgence of, the use as medication, the crutch to forget, the destructive instigator. There is minimal cursing in 2 of the songs, and it’s not the lighter cursing. It’s the F bomb, mostly being used to express angry feelings.  Face-Off has direct disturbing lyrics that imply someone (or some entity, some suggest even himself) took advantage of him and really wounded him and at their “masquerade party,” something happened while he was f**king drunk. They took his money, his heart, his trust & betrayed him.  He says his piece to them about “it being f**king over” & that he’s moving on.

The performances he has begun to do, as the very short promotional period rolls out, show a relaxed and prepared JM.  The live choreography is very good, and the songs are presented well.  And best of all, the individual songs and the album are doing well on the charts and among fans. Strange hater stuff and odd, corrupt business things are still happening (such as sale/streaming counts being mysteriously reduced) but he’s still doing well. JM is doing a surprising promotional tour that includes American & Korean talk shows, Korean music shows, radio shows, and a WeLive to talk more about the album.

The most surprising thing is the hidden song on the album found at the end of Like Crazy (English) at 06:13 (BTS time) after a silent pause. While no other BTS members or collaborators sing on the album, JK sings as a background singer on this song called Letter.

**Future Letter thoughts and post-promotion thoughts to come.

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

[morgana-ren]

and a funny question, who does tomura like his reader or his video game better?

Ideally, he wants both!

That's not to say that Tomura is going to turn down a girl that isn't into video games- he never thought he'd have a girlfriend at all so this is a fantastic problem to have- but it would be even better to have a girl who can game with him. It's his release, how he vents out various frustrations and clearly something he learned how to utilize when he was young to cope and enjoy himself. He’s been seen multiple times strategizing in video game format, so I think it’s safe to say that it’s fairly important.

If you're not a gamer, that's okay too, but he is going to try and get you into it. Show you some of his favorite games and try to teach you how to play. For your birthday or some other occasion, he'll buy you a console or a laptop in the hopes that you'll play it in your free time and take a liking to it.

If you don’t, cool. But he’s still going to play his. 

I think the best way to put it is that he loves you both in very different ways. He loves his console and his pc, but he’s not going to try and fuck them (though he has been lonely and drunk enough to joke about it before). 

Don’t be one of those chicks that tries to get him to put the habit aside entirely because 1) Why would you want to? He enjoys so little, let him have one little goddamn thing, and 2) he’s not going to take kindly to it. 

It’s totally plausible for your relationship and his video game habit to co-exist. He just might ask some odd things and do some goofy shit.

Here’s a little list for funsies. 

Letting him rant and rave to you about his current fixation. 

Stealing you goofy game related shit from games you mention more than once or seem to remember because he thinks you’ll like them since you clearly remember it.

Even if you’re not really interested in games, he’ll still offer to buy you new ones he likes and grind them and offer to play them with you, basically power-leveling you to see if you grow to enjoy it.

Taking you to the local game shop and hanging out while he browses (and him telling you to fucking relax when you tense as he steals whatever it is he decided on, because fuck the establishment).

Him listening to video game OSTs when he’s trying to focus or just relaxing in general.

Cosplaying as one of his favorite characters. 

Roleplaying as one of his favorite characters. 

Letting him fuck you while you do those things.

Blowing him while he plays online (time honored classic)

Having you ride him while he plays.

Him finding a casual way to work into unrelated conversation that he has a girlfriend to gamers online who honestly don’t give a shit.

Wanting to ‘place a bet’ on a match and winner takes all (I’ll give ya one guess on what he wants to bet for.)

Taking you out on the rare occasions he goes in public to go to cons for releases he’s into

Dude watches video game youtubers. Sorry if you’re not into that. 

Goofy gamer lingo. 

Absolutely horrible gamer pillow talk.

Someone please tell this man it’s not sexy to tell you you’re poggers after cumming (lmao)

Relating a lot of things back to whatever game in particular he’s playing with. 

You’re not gunna convince me this man doesn’t play super modded sims on the lowdown and has some nasty shit happenin’. 

Gettin’ a wee bit flustered when you stumble across his.. uh.. expansive mods folder for certain games and sites he has bookmarked. 

It’s ironic. It was as a joke. He swears. 

haha unless...

[londonalozzy]

Stop Pretending (TFATWS)

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst

Summary: The reader thinks she's doing a stellar job of keeping her feelings for a certain soldier buried deep inside. Turns out, all it takes is an observant new friend to begin the unraveling of her most precious secret (Spoilers for TFATWS)

Masterlist

Word: Pretence

Definition: A way of acting that is intended to deceive people.

Example: Saying that he's just a friend when he's really the love of your life.

Your POV

Being caught in the midst of war is something that I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)  know all too well. As a war vet, former shield agent, and now Avenger I'm used to being centered amongst conflict. When the fight begins within me though, a battle between what I want and what I think is right, how will I react? Will I listen to my heart, my head, or will the winner be chosen for me?

Delacroix, Louisiana.....

I love my sleep, always have, always will. It's not necessarily the comfort of the bed, the quiet or even the rest. It's the fact that I'm at peace when I sleep. My life has a tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, so anything that will put that off for as long as possible I savor.

I wish it were the same for a certain super soldier in my life. I look forward to going to bed, everything calms down then, and for most people it's the same. For Bucky however, it's when everything starts, the nightmares, the terrors, the seemingly unending darkness. If only I could take his pain away like he has with mine.

For the last few weeks, my life had, for want of a better word, been hectic. Hectic to say the least.

After the eventual defeat of Thanos and the loses we endured as a result, I thought naively that life might calm down a bit, that I'd have time to breathe, to live. How wrong I was.

It all began with John Walker being announced to the world as the new Captain America.

I was baking cookies with Morgan in the Stark family kitchen when it came over the radio. As that latest turn of events sunk in, my first thoughts were of Bucky, what that would do to him. Not even an hour later I had said my goodbyes and was on my way to help him get the shield back.

Since then even more had happened. We'd regrouped with Sam, busted Zemo out of prison which in turn ruffled the feathers of Ayo and the Dora Milaje. We came face to face with Morgenthou and the Flag Smashers, and finally witnessed the man who thought he could even compete with Steve, make himself judge, jury and most significantly executioner.

After that went around the world we knew we had to end it sooner rather than later. It couldn't get much worse than Captain America becoming a murderer. We got the shield back, which was a fight all in itself. Handed Zemo over to Ayo, to try and recompense for the distrust we'd instilled in the people who'd helped us so much. Then we travelled to stay with Sam and his family in Louisiana whilst we waited for Karli's next move.

This is where we found ourselves now, in the eye of it, the calm before the storm.

Waking up in the Wilson households guest room, I was greeted to the golden hue of the rising sun penetrating through the single glaze windows, and the melodic sounds of gulls on the hunt for their morning meal down by the docks.

Actually, no that's not right. What I could hear was most certainly not birds, and it was definitely not melodic. What were those boys doing?

Quickly and quietly I threw on the first clothes I could get my hands on and made my way downstairs towards the noise. What caught my attention when I discovered the source, was not the two youngest Wilson boys playing with our newly reacquired shield in the living room, but the super solider who was blissfully ignorant to it all, sleeping peacefully on the couch in front of them. I don't think I'd ever been so happy.

"Right you two, if you're determined to play Avengers all morning then I suggest you re-assemble in the back yard. You're gonna wake Bucky up," I whispered out in one breath, stepping between the boys, then placing my hands on their backs and tip toeing them towards the door.

"So what if we wake him up? It's gone 10am," Cass questioned in protest, pulling on his sneakers and jacket.

"Exactly! Which is why if you do as I say, I will make you the biggest plate of waffles for breakfast that you've ever seen."

The boys eyes lit up. "Can we have ice cream with it? Mum never lets us have ice cream for breakfast, and I'm sure there's a tub of Stark raving hazelnuts in the freezer," AJ clapped in muted excitement. "Oh, for God's sake.....Yes. You can have whatever you want if you get out of this house now and keep the noise down."

Once the boys were outside, I made my way over to the kitchen, stopping on the way to lean over my favourite senior citizen and make sure that he was still peaceful in his slumber. He'd never looked so relaxed, so at ease. It was a brand new Bucky I'd never seen before, a Bucky that had my heart pounding for him even more than it normally did. Not that he knew any of that.

Half an hour later and up to my elbows in waffle mix, I failed to notice my new friend and host Sarah making her way to my side at the counter, the huge smile on my face not going unnoticed. "What's got you grinning like the Cheshire cat, like I need to ask?"

"Bucky's sleeping. Isn't it amazing?" I spoke softly, bouncing up and down on my feet as I did so.

"And why is that?" She couldn't looked more confused if she tried.

"In all the years I've known him, I don't think I've ever woken up before he has. If his nightmares don't keep him awake all night, they normally have him up before the crack of dawn. I don't think I've ever seen him so still."

"Good answer," Sarah nodded in a hush, understanding why this meant so much to me, but not done yet with her morning interrogations, "Now on to my next question......"

"I'm already not liking the sound of this."

"Sleeping Beauty over there follows you around like a little puppy dog. He hangs on your every word, looks at you like you hung the stars or something. It's pretty obvious how crazy he is about you, so when are you gonna stop pretending that you're not head over heels in love with him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Wilson," I smiled forcefully, making out like the waffle maker deserved my attention way more than the conversation I was being made to have.

This was all Sam's doing, without a shadow of a doubt. He'd tried to have this conversation with me on multiple occasions and I shut him down every time. He obviously hadn't given up like I thought he did, and decided to draft in his sister. He is seriously gonna regret it when I find him.

"Sure you know what I'm talking about. Sam sees it, I don't even know you that well and I see it. The only reason Bucky doesn't, is because he doesn't believe he could ever be that lucky. You're a smitten kitten." These Wilson's are all as annoying as each other.

Knowing I wasn't getting out of this one, I grabbed Sarah by the arm and pulled her right into the corner of the room, trying my best to keep this convo as private as possible. "Look, I'm not pretending.....I'm ignoring. There's a difference."

"Care to explain what that difference is?" Sarah spoke softly, but with a sarcastic air.

Turning to look over my shoulder at the subject of our conversation, making sure he was still safely in the land of nod, I decided to just be honest. Sarah was much like her brother. Once she wanted to get to the bottom of something she wasn't about to give up.

"I love Bucky, more than I've ever loved anyone...and that terrifies me," the rawness of finally being honest making my voice shake, and tears come to my eyes. "Nat was like my sister, and she's dead. Tony was the closest I've ever gotten to having a Dad...and he's dead too. Then there's Steve, Vision, God knows where Wanda is....Everyone I love, either leaves or dies. If I admit my feelings for Buck then I face the risk of losing him too."

"Do you have any idea how crazy you sound right now? He's not going to die because you love him (Y/N)."

Silent tears were falling now. I was revealing my deepest fears to a woman I'd only known a few days, and I'm not underplaying it when I say it was like a colossal weight off my chest, a release I didn't know I needed. "Believe me...I know, but I can't take that risk. I can't lose anyone else, especially not him."

"Let's just say for a second that you're right, that there is some higher power somewhere, set on destroying everyone you love. Do you really think ignoring your feelings is going to make them disappear?" I didn't know what to say to that. "Natasha and Stark died so that everyone could continue living, and (Y/N) you're not living as long as you keep this to yourself. They wouldn't want that for you."

"But what if I lose him?" I whispered with a choked sigh.

"Then at least he'll die knowing how you felt about him. After everything he's been through don't you think he deserves to know there's someone out there who loves him like you do?"

"Of course..."

Sarah's lips pulled upwards in a satisfied smirk, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, "then you owe it to yourself, and to him, to tell him the truth."

"Why do all you Wilson's have to be so clever?" I voiced in mock irritation, pushing her away from me and acting like I was annoyed she had gotten one up on me.

"I don't know," she thought aloud and with a cheeky grin, grabbing a plate to start piling on the long forgotten waffles, "I think it might be the sea air or something."

"Nah, it's in the genes," I chuckled quietly, grabbing my jacket and deciding it was time to get this conversation wrapped up. "I'll go find Sam and the boys for breakfast. Clear my head a little bit."

"You promise you're gonna tell him?" Sarah stopped me as I went to push the door open.

"I'll think about it."

3rd person POV

Once (Y/N) was out of ear shot, Sarah couldn't help but start jumping up and down in excitement, clapping her hands loudly as she did so. That went even better than she thought it would, and she was so proud of herself. Sarah Wilson could now add matchmaker to her resume.

"Coast is clear Barnes. You can open your eyes now."

(Y/N) had no idea what she had metaphorically walked into just minutes earlier, entering that very revealing conversation with her overly inquisitive host.

What drew Sarah to come down that morning was the sounds of both the front porch door opening and the smell of homemade waffles wafting up the stairs. As she entered the kitchen she was met with two sights. One being (Y/N), facing the counter and looking very smiley, the other being a wide awake super soldier who was just laying on the couch and staring at her, the sole object of his affection. Sarah could work with this.

Every time (Y/N) turned back in his direction, Bucky would close his eyes and pretend to be asleep again. He had never slept so soundly, so peacefully, thoughts of (Y/N) and his new friends filling his nightmare free dreams.

He'd initially woken to (Y/N) ushering the boys outside because she was afraid they would wake him up. He didn't want to disappoint her by proving her right. Besides, he liked just watching her move around the kitchen, completely unaware he was observing her the whole time. He had no idea about the conversation that was just about to happen.

After (Y/N) had left and Sarah had confirmed so, Bucky sat himself up, his body shaking with adrenaline and a look of complete shock fixed on his face. Had he definitely woken up, or had the whole thing been a part of his dream? Did (Y/N) seriously just admit that she was in love with him?

Bucky didn't know how to react, didn't know what to say as he looked up at a smug Sarah from his spot. All he'd ever wanted was for (Y/N) to feel the same way about him as he did about her. Now he knew that she did.

"You're welcome by the way."

[arvandus]

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta.  You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face.  You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed.  You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note:  A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder​​. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??).  In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar.  Some looking to win romance.  Some looking to win money.  While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends.  Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band.  It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched.  You checked your phone for messages but found none.  It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up.  It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response.  Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up.  A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point.  You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now.  Sometimes it was them.  Sometimes it was you.  But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best.  At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date.  And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing.  Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians.  Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din.  Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs.  Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage.  All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club.  Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch.  Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was.  Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips.  He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans.  He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing.  The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star.  The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck.  It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This.  This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out.  You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people.  But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new.  And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump.  Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed.  But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel.  Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away.  Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble.  His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral.  To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze.  You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis.  “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons.  He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly.  “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down.  “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles.  “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow.  “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’.  You know who I’m talking about.  If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done.  But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened. 

Watching him from a distance was one thing.  But actually meeting him?  Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body.  “No, it’s okay.  I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention.  You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage.  No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him.  The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at.  And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you.  You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance.  Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift.  The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins.  You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him.  Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time.  Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did.  Only rarely did he linger for a drink.  What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you.  He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep.  It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten.  You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured.  You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit.  He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him.  No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him.  In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied.  “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied.  Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass.  Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip. 

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar.  “Duty calls, friend.  Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him.  Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later.   You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice. 

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight.  A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred.  “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold.  “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned.  “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl.  It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat.  Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi.  He had a way of handling drunken idiots.  But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him. 

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind.  Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face.  A well-placed kick to his shin.  Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder.  The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort.  You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips.  But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare.  “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered.  “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.  His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission.  For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good.  Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him.  “Hey, fuck you man!”  He shouted.  But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables.  Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse.  Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess.  The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had.  But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded.  “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine.  But next time ask for one of my bouncers.  Or Hizashi.  Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin.  “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents.  “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay.  Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.”  She crossed her arms.  “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand.  I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration.  “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better.  And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before.  “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love.  I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

 Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

 “And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment.  I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi.  “Get her a fresh drink.”  

 “Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

 She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

 “Thank you.” You replied.

 Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

 You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now.  “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

 “Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath.  Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display.  Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied.  There was a long silence before he spoke again.  “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then.  Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely.  The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked.  “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking.  The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.  

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown.  How long had he noticed you’d been coming here?  Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment.  You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh.  He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused.  Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time.  I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True.  I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice.  You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin.  “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back.  This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective.  Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval.  He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought.  It felt natural.  Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself.  After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face.  His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri.  You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own.  Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life.  You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory.  He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed.  “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed.  “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look.  “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink.  “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation.  You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now.  You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him.  “How about you?  Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No.  No special someone.  Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand.  Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.  

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him.  Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched.  If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned.  Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there?  What if you were wrong?  

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter.  The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy.  It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations.  Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.  

He was interested.  In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned.  Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind.  It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most.  You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.  

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers.  Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin.  That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment.  “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club.  Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day.  How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement.  But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could.  “Leave me the keys to the place.  I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug.  He placed a set of keys on the counter.  “Don’t tell Nemuri, though.  She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left.  You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze.  Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space.  He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile.  “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you.  “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips.  You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own.  Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass.  You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head.  “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid.  Used to mess around on it.” He explained.  “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails.  You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing.  “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head.  “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them.  Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat.  He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty.  The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him.  The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C.  Everything else will center around this.”  He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space.  “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys.  Like this.”  Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm.  “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.”  He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out.  Then, he removed his hand.  “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried.  The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured.  “Let’s try it again.  Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol.  It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness.  You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience.  “It’s okay.  If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it.  You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit.  And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop?  How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay.  Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys.  “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his.  His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land.  Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said.  “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval.  “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time.  The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled.  “Good.  Now, for the other hand.  You’ll start one octave lower.  Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect.  Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys.  “Like this?”

Shouta nodded.  “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand.  The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you.  You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap.  His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his.  The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod.  “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily.  “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No.  Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him.  He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them.  You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this.  The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes.  To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly.  The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake.  You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down.  And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys.  All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen.  His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.  

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys.  His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable.  But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted.  But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting.  Finally, he spoke.  “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now.  “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you.  Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results.  Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need.  Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did.  It was obvious you did.  Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him.  He needed to hear it.  A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you.  At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own.  You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.  

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs.  This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing?  How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence?  And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties.  The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation.  His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps.  Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock.  Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements.  “You better stop that…” he warned.  

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end.  But you didn’t care.  You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction.  In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck.  His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw.  There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap.  The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control.  But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back.  “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath.  With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel.  He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance.  The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered.  Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit.  A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage.  With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release.  Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you.  With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching.  Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer.  You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly.  “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers.  The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake.  Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched.  Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.  

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure.  Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch.  His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs.  The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips.  Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him.  But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh.  “Much.”  You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you.  “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans.  “As much as I like that idea, no.”  He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap.  His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place.  “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.  “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms.  “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.”  You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered.  You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access.  “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind.  Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes.  He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was.  You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

 You couldn’t wait.

[foxxsnacks]

I LUV UR OTTO HEADCANONS SO MUCH😭

aaaaaa thank you thank you!! Have a few more for you Anon, as a treat~

This is for pre accident O.tto because I love him

• he's not much of a tease, but he will crack jokes on occasion

• normally he won't, but if he's given permission to taste? He's gonna lick his prey all over. He can't help it, he loves it.

• he's perfectly fine with multiple prey, and he actually favors it, but it's not something he does often. Mainly because if he has too much movement inside of him it gets a little overwhelming and he can't focus on anything else. He only does that on days where he's not busy and is just relaxing at home.

• he refuses to eat anything while he has a prey in his stomach, to him it just feels disrespectful to do; and the worst thing his prey is going to have to deal with is the occasional splash of water when he needs a drink. And he's mindful to not drink it cold either, knowing that it could definitely be a bit of a shock for someone who's adjusted to the warmth of his insides.

• he also refuses to eat people he doesn't know very well, and strangers are just off the menu for him. To him it's something a little more intimate, and people need to at least be moderately good friends with him before he'll want to ask to eat them or be willing to eat them if they're the one offering.

• usually his prey is his lab assistants, and only the ones who have worked for him for a while. Anyone who's worked for him that long knows it's a benefit to let him eat them; since they're still getting paid for being on the job but they don't have to do anything

• if a prey falls asleep inside of him he'll freak out a little bit once realizing they're unresponsive, but after it clicks that they're just resting, he makes a conscious effort to move more slowly and not jerk around at all since he doesn't want to wake them

• even when he has prey that are large enough to make a visible bump in his stomach, he wears those thick and warm sweaters too, so those mostly cover the bump. Unless someone is specifically looking for those occasional movements, they're not going to notice if he has a little extra weight to him.

• he usually won't eat his prey headfirst because it results in a lot of extra squirming for them to get upright inside of him, unless he's really hungry and can't help himself

• if he's a little rough at all he's very apologetic about it, and I mean very apologetic.

• his breath always smells faintly of tobacco from his cigars and sweet from some of the tea he drinks

• if he hasn't eaten for a particularly long while when he eats someone, his stomach gets very loud. he gets all blushy and embarrassed about it, but none of his prey ever really care

• if he's been sitting in his chair for a bit while he works he'll get up and stretch once in a while, and he loves the way his stomach squeezes around the person inside him when he does it. That alone encourages him to actually get up and stretch more, which some of his lab assistants are happy about since he sits hunched over in that chair so long

• if a prey gets bored or understimulated (he's very accommodating for anyone with ADHD/autism at his lab thank you very much) he'll talk to them or just hum to give them something to listen to. It's the least he can do for someone who's willing to keep him full for a while.

• I almost completely and utterly forgot about Rosie but holy shit do these two use this for cuddles. A lot.

• sometimes on days where R.osie just wants to sleep in with him close he'll take her to work with him by keeping her tucked inside of him

• anyone who knows O.tto decently well can always tell when he has his wife with him from how he moves and acts alone. He's already pretty handsy with his middle when he has prey inside, always keeping his palm settled over them, but with R.osie it's more extreme. He always opts to do tasks one-handed just so he can keep his hand over her, even if doing so is more inconvenient

• another thing people can very easily notice is how often he pauses what he's doing to stare blankly into space. It's always because he felt her move around or something, and the pauses are especially long when she's rubbing at him from the inside

• when he's at home with R.osie tucked inside his hand is usually under his sweater to rest on his stomach so he can feel her more clearly. and he always smiles when she pushes into his hand.

• if he's not busy working he falls asleep very easily when his stomach is full

• he's definitely fallen asleep at his desk before in the lab and sometimes if it's an assistant that's tucked inside him they might need to push at him quite a bit to get him to wake up since he's a heavy sleeper

• he's also very apologetic to his prey if he falls asleep like that; unless it's R.osie, since he knows she doesn't really mind

• not only does he like larger prey, he likes it when they're big enough that it takes more than a couple swallows to get them down. The main reason is because he likes being able to see their face while he swallows their legs, since it makes it easier to tell if they're uncomfortable and want him to stop

• ...he also especially likes the stretch of his throat, but he won't admit that

• if he's not the one joking about eating someone, he gets flustered very easily when people imply that they'd like to get eaten by him

• his stomach is very soft, but a little more slimy than average

• hence why he always keeps towels on hand before eating someone. the comfort of his prey is always taken into consideration no matter what

I HOPE YOU LIKE THESE ANON :D

[cah0mie]

To all my MCs that never really Enjoyed Celebrating their Birthday

Mammon: Alright! What does everyone have planned?

Asmo: I bought them multiple massagers so they can have a relaxing, stress-free day!

Satan: I bought them the new book series for them from their favorite author. I figured we could discuss the meaning throughout the story together.

Lucifer: I convinced Diavolo to give them the day off from any school activities so that they may rest, since they have worked hard it was an easy request. I also made a reservation at Ristorante Six.

Beel: I practiced how to make their favorite dish perfectly so they can have a delicious lunch!

Levi: I bought them the new most popular game they really wanted to try!!

Belphie: Uuhhhh guys? I don't know about this. I mean don't you remember what happened when we asked what they wanted?

Mammon: When they said they didn't want to celebrate? I've thought of that, and I have a plan!

Satan: This ought to be good.

Levi: Why exactly are we letting him run things anyway?

Mammon: Shut up and listen up! We don't have to celebrate anything! We can just try to help them unwind a little. Just friends trying to help their other friend, for no reason at all!

Satan: That sounds so suspicious, they would realize what we were up immediately!

Mammon: Do you have a better plan!?

Satan: ....... *Sighs* No....

Lucifer: Then I guess that's our best shot at doing this for them.

Belphie: I'm not entirely thrilled about following a plan made by Mammon, but I agree that it's the only idea we have.

Asmo: That's pretty sad..

Mammon: Shut up! All of you!

Lucifer: Moving on, I have already told MC that we have no school tomorrow. Hopefully they will sleep in and buy us some time.

-next morning 9:00-

MC: Shit....slept in a bit late didn't I?

-there's a knock on the door-

MC: Come in.

Asmo: Oh good you're awake!

MC: Just woke up. What's up?

Asmo: Oh, just got you a little something~ *carries in a tray with a cover on it*

MC: ..... Asmo..... What is this?

Asmo: I just thought you deserved *takes the cover off* Breakfast in bed.

MC: ...... *Stares at Asmo* What's the occasion?

Asmo: Can't I just do something nice because I fell like it.

MC: You're a demon.

Asmo: But YOUR demon, right?

MC: *shakes head, smiling* Thank you for the food, it looks great.

Asmo: Oh, but that's not all. *Retrieves a bag set by the door* Now, this mask will massage your eyes and play relaxing music.

MC: Asmo-

Asmo: This here will massage your neck and shoulders- which you could really use being hunched over a desk constantly.

MC: ASMO-

Asmo: And these are supposed to wrap around your legs and feet. They are massaged through air waves.

MC: ASMO!!

Asmo: What? I'm on the last one.

MC: Asmo, what IS all of this?? I don't need all of this, if anything you should use it.

Asmo: Now isn't that silly, of course you need it!

MC: As-

Asmo: Now, enjoy your food and relax as long as you wish! *Leaves*

MC: .....*sighs* .. So it's gonna be like that huh?

-few hours later-

Mammon: Yo MC! How about a game of Poker? I know you can't resist the game and the bets!

MC: It's more of the people and the conversations that I enjoy then the game itself. If we get more people on board sure.

Mammon: Uuummm, then how about some blackjack?

MC: Mammon, you know I'm not a gambler.

Mammon: Then how about....... Rummy?

MC: How about Speed?

Mammon: What?

MC: If you want to play a two person card game that bad, let's play speed.

Mammon: ...... What are the rules?

MC: Come here, I'll show ya.

-half an hour later-

Mammon: Wha-!? What the hell!? How are you so fast!?

MC: It's called 'been playing it for years'.

-lunch time-

Beel: Here you go MC. I made your favorite.

MC: Beel, this is much appreciated but why aren't you getting your food first? You must be hungry.

Beel: Nah, I'm ok. Besides, you deserve it.

MC: How so?

Beel: For being a good friend. 😊

MC: ...... *Sighs* ... I can't refuse you when you look at me like that and you know it. That's why you abuse it....

-afternoon-

Belphie: MC, it's time for our afternoon nap. Are you coming?

MC: I'm coming, I'm coming. *Goes to lay down beside him*

Belphie: Oh hold on! *Grabs a different pillow* Use this one instead.

MC: .... Isn't this one of those pillows that are supposed to keep you cool all through the night?

Belphie: Yep! You kept mentioning how hot you'd get while you're sleeping and how uncomfortable you'd be. I'd like my cuddle buddy to be comfortable while sleeping together.

MC: ....... There's NO other reason behind it?

Belphie: What other reason would there be?

MC: .... Fine. *Lays down with the pillow* Thanks.

Belphie: No problem.

-Evening-

Satan: MC, I'd like to talk about the theme in this book I've been reading. It's really confusing to me, I was hoping for different mindset to even it out?

MC: Sure, what book is it?

Satan: Come to my room, I'll show ya.

MC: Ok, *follows*

Satan: *lifts a book off his desk* This is it, apparently this story is holding the idea that committing crimes is alright depending on the situation.

MC: For example?

Satan: Committing murder is alright say, if someone kidnapped your kid.

MC: You think that's not alright?

Satan: I'm a demon, watching humans kill each other is pretty much sport to me. I just see it very unrealistic.

MC: .... Depends on the situation. Say your child was abducted and about to be sold off and become a victim of human trafficking. If this is proven then you should be pardoned for the most part, you will just have to live under new names and protection.

Satan: Wow, I didn't realize how complicated it all was.

MC: Yep, that's life. *Goes to leave*

Satan: Oh, before you go. *Grabs the series of books* Here, read these. I already have and I believe they're right up your alley.

MC: ...... Aren't these the new series of books, that just came out the day before? And you already read them?

Satan: *smirks* If you don't believe me, quiz me.

MC: ...... *Takes the books* .... Why do I not believe this is all coincidence?

Satan: *shrugs* Who knows?

MC: ..... *Leaves*

-Dinner-

Lucifer: MC, you're cooking?

MC: Yep. Everyone else cooks for dinner, I figured I could pick up the slack a little.

Lucifer: How much longer will the food take? We have a reservation in an hour.

MC: It shouldn't take too mu- wait, back up. What the fuck are you talking about!?

Lucifer: Is there something wrong?

MC: A few things yeah! One, I'd like more of a heads up! Two, why now!? What is this for!?

Lucifer: Consider this a reward for all your hard work.

MC: ...... Ok yeah no, this calls for a meeting.

-Everyone is gathered in the common room-

Asmo: What's wrong sweetie? You looked stressed

MC: I am stressed, all of you are stressing me out.

Mammon: Oi!! What did we do!

MC: Everything that has happened today was because my fucking birthday! Wasn't it!?

Satan: So what if it was? Why can't we celebrate it?

MC: I asked you not to.

Beel: MC, why do you hate your birthday so much? We only want to make you feel appreciated... 🥺

MC: Don't give me that damn look. I told you that it was a little too personal, and I rather not talk about it.

Belphie: Do you not trust us?

MC: I didn't say that, it's just...hard to talk about...

Mammon: Have you even tried?

MC: Have you tried not stealing shit? Difficult isn't it?

Levi: Woah! Burn!

Mammon: Shut up!

Lucifer: MC, we would probably understand your request better if you were to explain.

MC: ....... Let's just say... Something REALLY BAD happened on this day.... And everytime someone tried to celebrate with me....I remember it..... When I don't want to....

Levi: .... Woah.... Tragic backstory confirmed!

Asmo: Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry.

Satan: I'm not.

Mammon: Wha-! Satan!

Satan: What!? Come on! When they first show up they state us down like we're frogs in the dessert, and they don't want to be reminded of some shitty memory!! You're better than this! Whether you like it or not I'm celebrating your birthday every year! Because you deserve it!

Lucifer: Agreed. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. I believe with a little push you can love past that block on your mind.

Beel: I'll still make you delicious meals that we can enjoy together!

Belphie: You're keeping that pillow, whether you like it or not.

MC: ......... You all are assholes..... I hope you know that....

Mammon: Yeah well, you're a pain in the ass too. So we're even.

-later that night-

Levi: ....... I got that game you wanted....

MC: ....... You want to play together?

Levi: ...... Please?

MC: ...... I'll grab some snacks and drinks. You set up the game.

Levi: Yay!!

-----

That was much longer than I meant it to be, and alot more feelsy. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed.

If you see anything that I could have done better, please don't hesitate to inform me. I accept all forms of constructive criticism.

[musicallisto]

hi love! congratulations on such a wonderful milestone! i’ve been following you for ages so this is almost as exciting for me haha

could i please get a 🍨 for the grishaverse/six of crows? (whichever you feel fits!) i’m straight female who is an istj, slytherin, and 6w5! i also took the grisha quiz and am apparently a alkemi (but would i truly want to be grisha? the jury is still out on that). im 5’7 with blonde hair, brown eyes, and glasses. i’m a sagittarius sun, pisces moon, and aquarius rising!

i’m pretty independent, and believe no friendship demands blind faith. i’m probably too selfish (which i don’t see as a bad thing, personally), and can be quick to anger.

HOWEVER! i’m not all angst. i’m introverted, shy, & frankly bad with emotions (both feeling and expressing), BUT i also love to laugh, and will not stop talking to you about things i like once we’re friends.

i love that first sip of coffee, the silence after it snows, and the stars on a clear night. i’ve had multiple concussions from sports (which tells you all you need to know about my self-preservation skills) but i will take a day in bed reading or watching various franchise movies over adventure most days. i also lovelovelove listening to music — specifically classical!

thank you so much in advance !! and take all the time you need, this is a fun celebration so i wouldn’t wanna stress you out :) congrats again!!

hi! here’s your vanilla milkshake! (also - please come off anon because first of all, you’ve been following me for a long time? my heart melts. but ALSO! you sound like the most amazing and fascinating person and i adore your personality.) i thought of going for a shadow and bone character to diversify a little bit - but who am i to resist the call of kaz brekker?

no words can express my excitement at being able to use an actual gif for Kaz.

we all know Kaz and we all know his emotional turmoil. expect the slowest of slow-burns; expect to even wonder if the candle is lit at all.

But it is, I promise. It is lit and it seeps into his heart in ways that he doesn’t understand, and frankly, that scare him a little.

He’s never been good at that whole falling thing. He’s more than content to sit above the rest, and leave the tumbling to Inej.

So when he has to face the music and understand that you’re not getting away, and neither are his growing fondness for you? He’s totally helpless. Serves him right for not learning how to fall sooner.

At first, he thought it was mere fascination that drew him to you. Sure, it takes a lot for him to be impressed... but even he has to admit that you are a lot. Not in the lot in the exuberant sense of all these merchants, but assured and strong in your mastery of your powers, and in your quiet competence.

You craft most of the poisons and antidotes the Dregs use, and are unafraid to yield them yourself; you don’t mind getting your hands dirty; you’re reliable, loyal, easy to trust, and, surprisingly to him, easy to befriend as well. Although he doesn’t make a big effort to befriend you anyway; but whenever he goes down to visit you in your clandestine lab, he ends up spending much more time than he originally planned talking to you.

It’s just so easy to forget the grime of the streets above in that peaceful laboratory, with the distant sound of violin and chemical solutions bubbling somewhere indistinct. And your total concentration, as you mix up the poisons and conjure the blasting powders with deadly precision, is a magnificent sight to see.

At first, Kaz is guilty of sending you on missions for him, or confining you to your lab. You don’t mind the work, and understand that it is where you are most useful, but quickly tell Kaz that you are not at his disposition whenever he wants to run his errands; that you are his equal, and that you work for the Dregs because someone must feed these poor children, not because you would blindly give up your life for him.

In other words: you owe him nothing, and you’re not his lackey. And he better understand that quickly, lest you leave and offer your services to a cause that will remember you for more than your craftsmanship.

It’s a wake-up call for him, surely; it’s when he realizes that you have an independent soul, that you know no ties nor bounds, that you are neither a Kerch nor a Ravkan nor a Shu, but truly a citizen of your own heart, and that there is nothing tying you to him except your good will.

And the idea that you might disappear from his life as quickly as you barged in is enough to paralyze him for a good second. But then he regains his composure.

And asks you to stay, please.

(Not for the poisons, not for the magic, not for the money, but for me, he almost adds, but he can’t get the words out, and doesn’t.)

From that point on, you go on missions with Kaz and the Dregs, and no longer for them, standing as tall as the other Crows.

And your relationship with Kaz grows seemingly a little stronger for it. He opens up a little more, sometimes slips in a little something that might even be considered a compliment.

The others have told him time and time again that you are a fun and happy person to be around, and he couldn’t believe them, because all he ever saw of you was the focused and precise Grisha synthesizing arsenic or negotiating contracts by his side. But as he opens up to you, and on the rare occasions you’re both at the Crow House, he listens to you excitedly tell a story to the others Dregs crowded around a greasy table, he understands what they mean.

You are fascinating.

It’s not the Alkemi in you, it’s not your deadly aim nor your rigor with your work... it’s you. It’s in the excitement in your voice when you talk about something you love, and the care you put in making space for Kaz in your busy schedule.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me?”

“I don’t want to see you when you boss me around. Otherwise, you’re not so terrible to spend time with.”

(Which, in your shared language of restriction and shiness, means “I appreciate you a lot and enjoy your company more than I let on”.)

It’s in your relaxed face when you listen to classical music... when you’re working late nights at the lab and start humming along to the piano on a beaten gramophone that Jesper, of all people, stole for you one day - a Romantic Fjerdan melody, nothing to do with the industrial rhythms of Ketterdam, and your feet begin swaying to the music without you noticing.

He just stopped by to bring you the list of what he’ll need to take care of the Ice Court guards... but he’s taken aback, on the doorstep, watching you enjoy the music like a careless ballet dancer. He’s never seen you quite so relaxed...

... maybe that’s when he falls for good.

And maybe you know he’s fallen for good when you stop by unannounced at his office at the Crow House to hand him the poisoned blades he’s asked for... and you find him listening to the exact same waltz you were playing when he arrived.

You never took Kaz for the classical music type - you do a double-take before he looks up at you, his face and lips even, but a glimmer of hope twinkling in his dark eyes.

“You wanted?”

“To see you.”

His brow perks up.

“However did I get so lucky?”

But he gestures for you to step in, to get closer to him, to fill his dull office with your heady scent, both poison ivy and white rose.

Maybe, under the right night sky, with the right alignment of stars, and after the right snowfall on a deserted plain, he will hear the same music again, and this time he will clumsily extend this hand.

Not to dance, not even for you to take. Just to hold it out for you. Just so you know he would go to any lengths to keep you safe.

But for now, you have a heist to plan.

800 follower sleepover CLOSED!

[astralpenguin]

@transnaturalweek day 5: t4t

1.5k, ao3 link

“Cas?”

Cas had known that Dean wasn’t asleep yet, and he’d known that Dean’s sleeplessness was coming from more than a simple bout of insomnia. Cas didn’t like to read minds, but he didn’t need to read Dean’s mind to know that Dean was thinking very hard about something. He also didn’t need to read Dean’s mind to know that Dean would speak up about whatever it was when he felt comfortable doing so.

Ever since he’d dragged Cas out of the Empty, Dean had been making a point of being more open with Cas about his thoughts and feelings. Even if it took him a while to get there sometimes, he’d still try. All that Cas had to do in return was give Dean the time he needed to do it on his own terms.

And it was looking like something was bothering Dean right now, and Dean was ready to talk about it right now.

Cas had his arms wrapped around Dean, and Dean’s back was pressed up against Cas’ chest. Dean liked falling asleep in Cas’ arms, and Cas was always more than happy to oblige. He liked having Dean asleep in his arms.

He hummed to let Dean know that he was listening.

“You know how you’re an angel.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

Dean broke Cas’ hold on him and rolled over to face him. “Okay, smartass,” he said, a smile on his face.

“Sorry,” said Cas, smiling as well and not feeling sorry at all. His goal with that comment had been to put Dean more at ease and make him smile, and he’d succeeded. “Continue.”

“Angels don’t have genders,” said Dean. His smile from moments ago had faded and his voice was steady. “And you’re an angel. So you’re not a man, right?”

“Dean-”

“This isn’t another sexuality crisis,” Dean continued, talking over Cas. “I know I’m bi, and I’m good with you being. Well.” He gestured at Cas. “Guy shaped. I’d probably be pretty bummed if you switched vessels at this point, actually. But-”

“Dean.”

Dean stopped talking.

Cas put a hand on Dean’s waist. “Angels were not created with a sex or gender,” he said. “And while it’s true that the majority of angels were always, as you used to put it, ‘junkless’-”

Dean shook his head. “I can hear the quote marks in your voice, man.”

“-I don’t think that the same can be said for me anymore,” Cas continued. “I’ve inhabited many vessels since creation. Some male, some female, and many that weren’t human. None of those other vessels were ever truly comfortable. None of them ever felt like they were my body. This one does. It’s the body that I was in when I lost my grace, it’s the body that I’ve been resurrected in more than once, and it’s the first form that the Shadow took inside the Empty in order to communicate with me. It probably helps that I’m the only one in this body. I’m not possessing anyone anymore. But I would also be ‘bummed’ if I had to change my vessel. I don’t think that I would be comfortable inhabiting any body other than this one.”

“Okay,” said Dean. “That doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a guy.”

Cas squinted. The nuance there wasn’t something he’d expected Dean to know. “You’ve been researching this.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

“Shut up.” Dean looked away, towards the ceiling. “Just. It doesn’t though. Right?”

“You’re right,” said Cas. If Dean had been researching the topic of gender in humans, to the point where he’d grasped this particular point, then there was likely a reason for it. Cas wasn’t going to push him on what that reason was. If Dean wanted to share, then he would. In the meantime he had no problems with answering Dean’s question. “Someone’s body does not dictate their gender. My gender does not rely entirely on my body, although for me it is a factor. I don’t know if I’d consider myself to be a man today if Jimmy wasn’t one. But I do know for sure that I was created, as an angel, without a gender, and now I do have one. I’m a man.”

Dean nodded in understanding.

He was still looking at the ceiling.

“Dean?”

“If it’s not just your body that makes you a guy, then what else is there?”

Cas paused as he thought about it. “It’s difficult to describe. Mostly it’s just a sense of rightness from viewing myself as such. Describing myself as a woman feels wrong, as does saying that I lack gender entirely. I’m a man because that’s what I am, and because I never want to be anything else.”

Dean nodded again. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?” said Cas. “I wasn’t sure that it did.”

“It did. I get what you mean.” He paused, still not looking at Cas. Swallowed. And then whispered, “Sometimes I don’t want to be a guy.”

Cas waited for Dean to continue. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to without prompting, Cas said, “You don’t have to be one”

And Dean spoke.

“I know. Damn it Cas, I know. But sometimes I am a guy. A lot of the time I’m definitely a guy and the concept of being anything else doesn’t even occur to me. And then sometimes I think that I don’t want to be a guy at all. And sometimes I think I’d like to be a woman, and I was sure that this was something that everyone thought, because who wouldn’t want to be a chick sometimes? Except I mentioned it to Garth the other day, and he said he’s never wanted to be a woman, or to be anything other than a guy, and apparently most guys never want to be anything else. So I looked it up. I thought that surely Garth was wrong, ‘cause I love the guy but you’ve got to admit he’s a bit of an oddball. But no. He was right. Most guys never want to be anything else. And some of the websites I looked at said that not wanting to be the gender you were born as means you’re not that gender, and that’s even more terrifying, because if I’m not a man then what am I?”

As he said this last sentence, he finally looked back at Cas. There was more fear in his eyes than Cas had seen in a long time. Since their ordeal with the Empty.

Cas put his hand on Dean’s cheek and gently brushed his thumb over Dean’s skin. Dean relaxed some at Cas’ touch.

“You are, first and foremost, Dean Winchester, and the people who love you will love you regardless of anything else. I will love you regardless of anything else.”

Dean relaxed even more at that, like it was something he’d needed to hear.

“I cannot tell you what your gender is,” said Cas. “That’s something you need to decide for yourself. However, to me, it sounds like your gender is not always fixed in place. It changes. Would you say that sounds right?”

“I-” Dean snapped his mouth shut and shook his head.

“Let me rephrase,” said Cas. “Would you say that the gender you want to be changes from time to time?”

Dean nodded.

“Okay.” Cas leaned in and brushed his lips against Dean’s. Dean kissed him back, just as softly. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“But it’s not normal,” said Dean. “Most people just want to be one thing.”

“Dean,” said Cas. “You live in an underground bunker. You have saved the world on multiple occasions. You are in a romantic relationship with an angel. There are significantly more people who experience some degree of gender fluidity than there are who share many of your other life experiences.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I know. It’s just....” He trailed off. Shook his head. “This is scary. I thought I knew something about myself and now it turns out I was wrong, and-” He cut himself off with a yawn. “Man, I'm tired.”

“Then sleep.”

“But-”

“If you like,” said Cas, “after you’ve slept we can look into this some more. There’s no rush or pressure for you to come to any conclusions or apply any particular labels to yourself, but exploring and discussing this some more may bring you some comfort.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I think it might.” He paused. “We?”

“Of course,” said Cas. “Unless you’d prefer I leave you to it yourself. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

“No!” said Dean. He curled his fingers into Cas’ t-shirt and gripped it tight. “No, I want you with me for this. If that’s okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” said Cas. “I’m here for you and with you for whatever you need.”

“Thanks, Cas.” He closed his eyes and buried his head in the crook of Cas’ neck, mumbling something into Cas’ skin. If Cas weren’t an angel, he never would’ve been able to pick out any of the words. As it was, it sounded suspiciously like Dean had said ‘love you too’.

Cas smiled. It was always nice to hear Dean say it.

[long-cosmos-overhead]

Night at the museum Preference general fluff??

NATM deserves more love

(I do not own NatM or it’s characters/ gifs not mine)

Larry

Larry isn’t usually an overly affectionate person neither does he feel the need to suffocate people in love but deep down he’s been hurt

Larry is actually very romantic if you work at the museum you can bet he’ll leave roses in your locker or a trinket in your pocket

However he also includes you like you were one mind and body you’ll see him do the most reckless things without anyone else’s input or help but with you he listens and more often than not takes you with him hand in hand to anyone else it’s small but it means a lot

You’re not spared from his awful jokes either he does it to get you to smile at least a little he finds it comforting

Larry will cook dinner no matter how his cooking skills may be you do so much for him even when he’s practically off the rails crazy the least he can do is let you relax

Both of you lay over each other as well not necessarily in a romantic way although that is a thing, sometimes one of you just flops down on the other and that’s it for the day

You definitely have to keep track of his stuff like keys and wallets he loses them all the time it’s better if you just take them it’s rewarding as well especially when he pulls you for a kiss after almost having a heart attack

Ahkmenrah

Cuddles and affection for days this pharaoh is touch starved and he’s only just found the love of his life once the main boundary is broken he’s all over you

Compliments you in almost every language he knows just to hear you beg for him to say it again or ask him what it means since most of them are ancient

He loves when you bring him back modern things like puzzles, fairy lights, sweets and chocolate and books he especially loves curling up to you and watching every movie ever made until the sun comes up and by curling up to you your bodies may as well be one

Hand holding is a big yes he’s never actually held someone’s hand like that before and he blushes every time you initiate it

Ahk knows you work hard and having you come to see him each night is a luxury and he loves you so much for it in return he’ll massage the knots from your muscles, carry you to his exhibit and let’s you fall asleep on him he secretly wants you to fall asleep on him

When Ahk kisses you he does it like his life depends on it, I’m talking holding you as close as possible, fingers through your hair and feeling dizzy afterwards and he’s most likely the most dominant he may be gentle and shy but he was a king

Teddy

He’s rather simplistic but in a way that makes everything so much nicer since it’s mostly ingrained into normalities

The way Teddy jumps off his horse to greet you will never not be sweet beyond belief especially when he drags you gently to show you something new he’s been doing or something that’s happened while you were away

Hand holding and knuckle kisses he has a thing for hands and formalities he’s never not greeted you with a kiss to the top of your hand when you arrive and before you leave

Takes you on his horse round the museum almost every night and he loves to watch you be friendly with the other exhibits it makes everyone feel more like a family

Teddy can’t be with you all the time and bad days are inevitable but he listens he’d listen for hours if it made you feel better and it’s not mindless either he can recall almost anything to told him it’s a way of showing he cares

He’s a gentleman to the max, nothing is done without your concent and happiness secured even something like helping you onto his horse

Warm hugs are given anywhere feeling sad? Warm hug haven’t seen each other for a while? Warm hug and he knows you like them so he does it that but more often

Attila

It’s actually rather strange never once did Attila yell, chase or even make any attempt to scare you when you first met and that carried into your closeness you can be in a room with him alone and be more than comfortable to annoy him you feel completely safe around him

Him and his men have definitely played games together like football, dodgeball and tennis with you Attila will not participate and will most likely throw a fit if he’s not on the same team as you

Hugs forever if you’re stressed he’ll hug you, working yourself away, he’ll pull you into a hug and walk you away from your work you could even be doing nothing and he’d run up and hug you

Attila knows there’s still danger around even in the museum so he teaches you a few tricks with a blade or just some self defence and offence moves but he hopes he’ll be the one doing the fighting not you though he did come to the conclusion you had a pretty decent swing

He never wears his intimidating face around you, he’s all smiles and happiness in fact he barely uses his intimidating face anymore well unless Cecil crops up again

Flowers and little things he’s made are perhaps the sweetest thing he’s ever done, how he gets the flowers he doesn’t tell you suspect Larry is behind it but they’re always so beautiful and he gets so excited when you show visible happiness

He blushes like mad when you hug him in return or even bring him flowers back, his favourite are sunflowers and he literally hoists you into the air when you get him some

Kahmunrah

He doesn’t mean to be but Kahmunrah is hilarious when he’s not on about upping his brother just listen in to one conversation and you’ll be in tears and after realising he plays into it more to make you laugh

He literally treats you as his queen, he’s stated on multiple occasions that if you were with him when he was king you’d be crowned immediately to anyone observing they’d think you’re royalty

Kahmunrah isn’t used to it but he will take you for a walk round wherever you are and talk to you about your day or what happened the first few times it turned to a one sided rant but he’s gotten better

You’ll have to teach him how to hug, he’s extremely tense and never really had that sort of contact but once he’s finally comfortable with it he’s a decent hugger, he accepts your hugs at almost any time and he’s strong enough to make them tight but not strong enough to make it uncomfortable

He trusts you with the tablet and his most valued possessions it’s a rather small thing but it’s a sign that the trust is very present and very strong

Kahmunrah is also extremely overprotective of you it’s mostly sweet for example he gets very angsty when you’re doing something dangerous like climbing a tree to get a cat down he literally followed you around ready to catch you at any given moment

Fall asleep on him and he feels so happy he can’t figure out why, he’s a terrifying pharaoh yet he finds it so endearing when you’re cuddled up on his lap

(It’s late sorry it’s not the best I’ve ever written)