#that’s not a combination that leads to job security
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takeher2thmoon · 25 days ago
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prediction: Jim Montgomery is going to get fired on Monday, November 4th.
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harrysfolklore · 27 days ago
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did you see that video of tom holland pushing the paparazzi off zendaya? Yeah I thinking about something similar but with Charles Leclerc x famous!reader
something short and sweet bc i'm not posting a new fic this week but i hope you enjoy it!
The flash of cameras was something you were used to, but tonight felt different. As you stepped out of the car at the prestigious event, Charles' hand firmly in yours, the crowd of paparazzi seemed more aggressive than usual. The combination of an A-list actress and a Formula 1 star had created a media frenzy.
"YN! Over here!" "Charles! This way!" "Are you two official?" "YN, how does it feel dating a racing driver?" "Charles, what's it like dating a Hollywood star?"
The shouting was overwhelming, and despite your years of experience handling red carpets, you felt yourself tense as the photographers pressed closer, their cameras mere inches from your face.
"Stay close to me," Charles murmured, his thumb stroking reassuringly over your knuckles.
"I'm used to this," you whispered back, trying to maintain your composed smile.
"I know, but this is crazy even for me."
You felt Charles' grip on your hand tighten protectively as one particularly aggressive photographer pushed forward, nearly causing you to stumble in your heels.
"Watch it!" Charles snapped, his accent thickening with anger as he steadied you. In an instant, his demeanor changed from polite to protective. He moved swiftly, positioning himself between you and the crowd.
"Back off," he said firmly. "I said back off! You're being too aggressive."
His arm wrapped securely around your waist, creating a barrier between you and the chaos. "That's enough. We'll pose for photos, but give us space."
"Charles, it's okay," you tried to soothe him, though you appreciated his protection.
"No, it's not okay," he responded, his jaw clenched. "They don't get to push you around just because you're a public figure."
The authority in his voice made several photographers take a step back. You could feel the tenseness in his body as he guided you through the crowd.
"Almost there," he assured you quietly. "Just a few more steps."
"YN! One more shot!" "Charles! Look this way!" "Are you living together?"
"Just ignore them," you whispered to Charles, sensing his growing irritation.
As you finally reached the relative safety of the venue's entrance, Charles's posture relaxed slightly, but his protective hold remained. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, completely ignoring the renewed frenzy of camera flashes the gesture triggered.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his green eyes scanning your face with concern. "I've never seen them this aggressive."
"I'm fine," you assured him, straightening his tie affectionately. "I'm used to it, remember? Though I have to admit, having my own personal bodyguard is nice."
He smiled softly, but his eyes remained serious. "Nobody gets to treat you like that," he said, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "Not even if they have cameras. I don't care if it's part of the job."
"My hero," you teased, trying to lighten his mood.
"I'm serious, mon coeur. I know this comes with both our careers, but there's a line."
In that moment, despite the chaos around you, you couldn't help but smile. You'd dealt with aggressive paparazzi before, but having someone who instinctively moved to protect you, who prioritized your comfort over the perfect photo op - that was new.
"Thank you," you said softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "For having my back."
"Always," he promised, taking your hand again. "Ready to go face the slightly more civilized cameras inside?"
You laughed, squeezing his hand. "Lead the way, Leclerc."
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austinbutlerslovers · 5 months ago
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Benny Cross: The Bikeriders Fantasy
Label Mature 18+
Chapter 1 Handsome Stranger 🔗 Chapter 2 🔗 Chapter 3 🔗 Chapter 4
Summary Heading out late to help spot a friend for cash at a local bar leads you into a den of wolves. Bikers frequent the place intimating you and sexually harassing you as you try to enjoy the evening with you friend. As she gets your drinks leaving you momentarily alone you become so frightened you want to cut the night short and leave. That is until you see the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on in your life. Benny, the handsome alluring biker that takes your breath away. The night is filled with wild twists and turns as you navigate your newfound feelings for this attractive stranger in your contrasting worlds.
10k word count
♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ Slow burn • savior/hero complex•independent female•propositioned by Benny •Benny claiming you•Benny wants to be yours •stimulating make outs• nipple play• oral fem • fingering fem• body worship•extreme orgasms •missionary• raw• creampie • after care
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📖 Proofreader @purejasmine 🫦 Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia 💭 Plot Consultant @austinbutlerfly
Heavily Based on The Bikeriders Movie 🏍️ Inspo: anonymous requests combined 🏍️ •Benny strong silent type •Benny a wanderer/ nomad -reader stable home •Benny submissive to reader •Benny love obsessed w reader •Benny being nurtured/cared for by reader •Recreate meeting Benny + smut •Benny as a gentle/passionate lover *more requests in upcoming chapters*
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Handsome Stranger
It is late night and you are at home, alone in the house willed to you by your parents. There is an eerie silence as you do the dishes only hearing the splash of water and the clunk of the plates submerge in the water and hit the basin.
The house is a large two story brick and mortar in the suburbs of Forest Glen, Chicago surrounded by a lush green lawn that you played on as a child. You grew up your entire life here, each room filled with memories of laughter and warmth.
It was a happy home, filled with the smell of your mother’s cooking at supper and the sounds of your father’s music playing softly in his office in the evening as he worked.
Your parents worked hard to create a nurturing environment, and their love was evident in every room of the house.
The day they’re perished was the day your world stopped. You quit your job at the local bookstore and began relying heavily on your friends for emotional support during your time of grief
The house, once a place of joy, became a silent reminder of your loss.
Your parents, both hardworking upper middle class, were dedicated to ensuring your future was secure. Setting up a trust fund and a life insurance policy.
As their only child, you inherited everything after their passing: the family house filled with memories, the cars they had carefully maintained, and your dad’s rental property in the next town over.
With your father being the former Director of Operationsfor Ford Motors and your mother being an accountant they had always prioritized your well being, wanting to provide you with a solid foundation for a successful and stable life.
No longer having their reliable guidance and without needing to work, you found solace in reading books about franchising and exploring potential business ventures, like owning several local laundromats in town, something your father had always wanted to do.
The idea of managing a business intrigued you, offering a sense of purpose and structure in your otherwise free and unoccupied life.
However, your friends, seeing you single and often too invested in your books, worried about your sanity and social well being. They frequently pulled you out to mingle, encouraging you to enjoy yourself and meet new people.
They wanted you to remember that there was more to life than just moping alone with your inherited wealth, they wanted your to find happiness and fulfillment with a husband.
Though you had dated a few men in town, they couldn’t get over the fact that you wouldn’t submit to traditional gender roles. Having your own finances allowed you to readily dismiss them at the first signs of male authority, decideding quickly you would no longer submit to any man.
The times were changing during the late ‘60s, and women were prevalently rebelling against domestication becoming in charge of their own lives. This cultural shift resonated deeply within you, sparking a fierce independence.
As you place a dish in the drying rack, your phone rings in the kitchen. You pull the receiver and press it to your ear and shoulder as you answer. It’s one of your close friends Donna in distress, you can barely hear her above the loud music playing in the background of her location.
“Hey, I’m so sorry to bother you so late. You know I wouldn’t unless I really needed to, but I’m at a bar and I’m short on cash. It’s about five bus stops from your place. Can you come spot me? Maybe have a beer with me? I can pay you back with my check on the first.”
You smile, your friends constantly ask to borrow money here and there, and you are never one to deny them. You understand how hard it is to work nonstop only to have spare change for fun. You balance the phone on your shoulder, the cord stretching across the kitchen as you place the last dish in the drying rack.
“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you say warmly. “I’ll be there in a bit. Which bar are you at?”
She gives you the name and address and you quickly jot it down on a notepad by the phone. It’s in seedier area of town but your friend has always had a knack for finding the hippest places around, so you think nothing of it deciding to join her.
“You can hold off on the beer. I think I’ll have a pop though,” you correct her. Your friend laughs.
“Not at this bar, dress up. The guys are having a meeting here tonight.” she informs you.
“Sure, alright, I’ll dress up,” you say, not entirely sure what she means by the guys meeting up but assuming it’s the usual locals.
You hang up, a small smile playing on your lips. Helping out your friends always brings you a sense of fulfillment. You pull on a lilac colored sleeveless form hugging top with white jeans and platform sandals. Nothing too fancy, but it would definitely draw the male gaze. You check your reflection, admiring your attractive features as you brush your hair, letting it cascade over your shoulders in soft waves.
You pull out a wand of mascara, carefully applying the dark, thick formula to your lashes, enhancing the depth and allure of your eyes then framing them with eyeliner. Next, you glide a rich shade of red lipstick across your full lips, the color making them look even more inviting. You then take a brush and apply a touch of rouge to your cheeks, blending it in for a natural, rosy glow.
Satisfied with your appearance, you give yourself one last approving look turning to check your form in the mirror. You would never head out this late for your safety, but because the bar is nearby and you are meeting a friend, you grab your purse and head out into the midsummer night of Ohio.
The air is warm and filled with the sounds of crickets. The sky is clear, stars twinkling above as you make your way to the bus stop. The bus is still running, and you hop on, finding a seat near the back. The city lights blur past the window as you ride through the familiar streets, your mind wandering to the night’s possibilities. You exit the bus a few stops later, the bar just a short walk away.
The brick building is lit up, neon signs flickering, casting a colorful glow on the sidewalk. You can hear the faint sound of music and conversation from inside. Tons of motorcycles are lined up out front, their chrome accents glinting under the streetlights. The air is filled with the mingled scents of cigarettes and gasoline. The atmosphere is charged, alive with the energy of the night
You take a deep breath and step through the door, scanning the loud crowded bar for your friend. The atmosphere hits you immediately this is not the usual crowd. The bar is filled with rough looking bikers, their leather jackets adorned with patches and insignias. Their faces are rugged, some sporting thick beards and tattoos snaking up their arms and necks. It feels as if the room falls silent for a moment as you walk in, all eyes turned to you, scrutinizing you with a mix of curiosity and predatory interest.
You feel their stares, some of the men openly leering.
“You need a man?” one of them calls out, his voice ripping with insinuation just above the music.
Another smirks and gives you a once over, “Looking for some fun tonight?”
Your heart begins to race, worry creeping in, it’s as if they can sense your unease, like predators sensing prey. You scan the room desperately, searching for your friend. Finally, you spot her waving at you from a corner table, looking both relieved and slightly apologetic.
You make your way through the crowd, the bikers parting reluctantly. Some of them brush against you, while others continue to watch you, their gazes and unwanted touches making your skin prickle.
You reach your friend Donna’s table and slide into the seat next to her, trying to steady your nerves. She is sitting across from a biker who is nursing a beer, his rugged appearance adding to the intimidating atmosphere.
“Hey,” she says softly, clearly aware of the tension in the bar. “Thanks for coming. I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t realize you were gonna dress up this nice…that’s gonna make things a bit more… interesting for you tonight.” She reveals with a grin.
“It’s okay,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Let’s just get you sorted and I’ll head out of here.”
“You should stay a while. These guys are something else,” Donna says as you hand her the money she needs. “You’re the best,” she adds, smiling as she counts it but you can’t help but feel the weight of the bikers’ stares.
This night has turned into something far different than what you expected, and you can’t shake the feeling of being a rabbit in a den of wolves.
The biker across from Donna leans forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “Name’s Cockroach,” he introduces himself, his voice cheerful and welcoming.
You give him a wary eye, trying to gauge his intentions. “Nice to meet you,” you manage, your voice steady despite the unease swirling inside of you.
Cockroach’s eyes flicker with amusement as he looks you over, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite… much,” he says with a chuckle, his gaze never leaving yours.
Two more bikers approach. One is wearing only a vest, his bare chest exposed, while the wears a heavily stained t-shirt. They both look drunk, their eyes bloodshot and their steps unsteady. They reek of stale beer and cigarettes, clinging to each other as they sway slightly, propping each other up.
“Hey, you-as wants-ta go home with me?” The one in the vest slurs to you, his words barely coherent.
“What about me you wanna live with me? The other chimes in with a grin before taking another swig of his beer. He leans in too close, the overpowering stench of alcohol heavy on his breath
You slightly recoil at their statements, trying to keep your composure.
“No thank you, I’ve got a date. I’ve gotta be home by midnight,” you quickly lie, feeling extremely uneasy and not wanting to engage with either of them.
Cockroach lets out a hearty laugh, the sound rough and loud. “You hear that, boys? Cinderella’s got a date and she’s gotta be home by midnight or else she’ll turn into a pumpkin!” The group erupts into laughter, the sound echoing through the bar.
Cockroach gets up and slaps the shoulders of the two bikers and they wrap their arms around each other as they head to the bar. You watch as they stumble away, their laughter still ringing in your ears.
You look around and begin to notice several of the bikers gathering together, casting glances your way and sharing whispers with one another. Already on edge, you lean towards Donna to warn her. “Look at them, it’s like they’re planning something over there.” You say trying to keep your voice steady but your panic is evident.
She shrugs it off. “Don’t worry about them,” she says trying to reassure you.
“I gotta go,” you say abruptly, the unease becoming too much.
Donna laughs. “Just sit tight. I’ll go get you a drink,” she says and stands up.
You watch her walk away, completely at ease among the bikers, she moves with a casual confidence, even giving a friendly pat on the back to one of the bikers as she passes by. It’s clear she feels comfortable in this environment, blending seamlessly with the rough crowd.
Feeling even more exposed now that you’re alone, the atmosphere feels thicker, the air heavy with the scent of beer, smoke, and something else you can’t quite place.
You glance around nervously, noticing the bikers’ eyes still lingering on you, their whispers becoming more apparent.
You can see them watching you now, their gazes more intense and predatory, their eyes following your every move, making your skin prickle with unease.
You quickly stand, clutching your purse, scanning the bar for your friend to head out to leave, and that’s when you see him the most physically stunning man you ever laid eyes on.
He is at the pool table, standing stoically with his hands resting on the edge. His broad shoulders and muscular frame are hard to miss, accentuated by a sleeveless black shirt. His presence commands the room, and despite the rough crowd around him, he stands out with an air of calm authority.
For a moment, everything else fades away. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. You watch him, mesmerized by his effortless confidence and the magnetism.
He gazes down, seemingly lost in thought, and when he looks up, you get a full view of his handsome face in every detail. His piercing blue eyes that look like they could see right through you, a head of thick tousled sandy brown hair, a rugged goatee surrounding his full enticing lips, and a strong, chiseled jaw . You feel a thrill shoot right through you, his looks take your breath away.
His eyes slowly lock onto yours, and it’s as if he can sense every bit of your attraction for him. His gaze intensifies, showing a clear desire for you in return. He straightens up, revealing his towering height and makes his way over to you with determination in his stride.
Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel a rush of excitement and nervousness as you sit back down, almost in a daze, watching the confident way he approaches your table.
He turns the chair across from you around backwards and slowly sits revealing every detail of his chiseled muscular arms as he casually rests them on the edge.
“I’m Benny,” he says, his voice soft and rich like honey.
Your voice comes out weaker than you intend as you respond, “hello…”
He stares at you intensely and though you try to meet his gaze, your eyes keep wandering down to his chiseled muscular arms and back up to the handsome features of his face.
He studies every detail of you in return his blue eyes slowly trailing over your body. His eyes tracing the line of your neck, lingering on the delicate skin there, before moving to your full, red lips. He continues up to your eyes, his stare deep and inviting, never breaking contact in a testament to his desire for you.
The intensity of his gaze makes your skin begin to tingle and your heart race. You’ve never been stared at in such a way. Despite your nervousness, you find that you like his unwavering attention, it makes you feel desired and alive in a way you’ve never felt before.
Summoning all of your courage, you finally regain the ability to speak.
“What are we doing here, just shooting the breeze?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. Your voice wavering, betraying the nervous excitement inside of you.
Benny’s smile widens, a beautiful smile that captivates you entirely. “I guess so,” he answers, his eyes never leaving yours.
When Benny doesn’t continue the conversation, a thick silence settles between you two. His eyes gaze into yours with an unspoken longing that makes your heart race and the intensity of the moment becomes overwhelming.
“Benny… I’ve gotta go home,” you relent, watching as his demeanor changes.
“Oh…okay” Benny responds the sadness flickering in his beautiful eyes, his deep voice tinged with disappointment.
His gaze lingers a moment longer before he lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Alright,” he says, a knowing smile on his lips, his voice still that soft, intoxicating murmur. “You gotta go,” he echos.
When he rises from the chair and walks away, your heart is pounding as your eyes follow his every move. You know you won’t forget your encounter with Benny anytime soon.
Just as Benny leaves, another biker sits down in front of you, taking his place. His presence is commanding and intense, exuding seniority.
His appearance is cleaner than the others; his black hair is slicked back neatly, and his stern face exudes authority. He wears a neat black button up tee with white etching along the seams, giving him a polished yet intimidating look. His sharp eyes, slightly narrowed, survey you with a calculating gaze.
“I’m already spoken for,” you announce,knowing in your heart you are already drawn to Benny.
The biker gives you a knowing look. “Don’t worry,” he says with casual confidence.
“Don’t worry about what?” you shoot back, wanting to deter any of his advances.
“I’m Johnny, the president of this club,” he says beaming with pride before continuing. “The guys, they just want t’have some fun. But I’m not gonna let nothing happen to ya,” he says with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.
“What’s was going to happen to me?” you ask, your voice tinged with concern.
Johnny leans back, his eyes steady on yours. “Nothin’,” he reassures you but his eyes shift.
As he studies your demeanor you realize it must be very late and excuse yourself.
“It was nice to meet you, Johnny, but I’ve really gotta go,” you say politely , and look around the bar for Donna to say your goodbyes. When you are unable to find her a slight panic sets in, and Johnny watches as you hurriedly leave the table the rise in your nerves evident.
Leaving is more difficult than coming in. More bikers have come to the bar, making you have to weave through the crowd. You are groped several times, slapping a hand or two away on your way out as they yell sexually suggestive advances.
“Hey, sweetheart, where you going in such a hurry?” one calls out, his eyes raking over you.
“Don’t be shy, honey, come sit on my lap,” another one jeers, reaching out to grab your wrist.
“Why leave so soon? The night’s just getting started,” a third biker says, his hand grazing your lower back.
“Let me show you a real good time,” one whispers in your ear, making your skin crawl.
You push through the throng of men, your heart pounding and your breath coming in short, panicked bursts. As you finally make it to the door, the catcalls and whistles follow you out into the night.
You don’t stop moving until you are a safe distance across the street at the bus stop. You look down at your white pants, now covered in their dirty black handprints,
“Disgusting!” you scoff, trying in vain to wipe the grit of their handprints off.
The bus is taking longer than usual, and you feel an uneasiness settle in. The street lamps and the distant sounds from the bar offer some comfort, but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.
That’s when you see Benny leaving the bar, his calm commanding presence exuding an aura of confidence. He focuses on lighting his cigarette as he walks, moving with a fluid grace that makes you stall, looking at him in admiration.
His leather biker jacket accentuates his strong shoulders, and his jeans highlight his confident stride. As he lights the cigarette, smoke billows from his mouth. He walks to his bike a short distance in front of you, seemingly unaware of your presence.
He swings his leg over his bike and kick starts it, taking a pull of his cigarette before looking over his shoulder at you, revealing that he knew you were there the entire time. You smile, but it quickly fades as your eyes are drawn the group of loud bikers leaving the bar. They immediately see you standing alone at the bus stop.
That’s when it hits you, and fear rushes in. The bus isn’t coming anymore; it’s too late.
“Oh no,” you mutter, walking quickly down the pavement. But they bound toward you, surrounding you almost instantly, pressing you around you and jeering as you walk.
“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” one of them sneers, his breath reeking of alcohol.
“Come on, darling, don’t be shy,” another says, his hand reaching out to touch your hair.
You slap his hand away, your heart racing with fear. “Alright alright !” you respond to knock their lewd advances, but your voice wavers, betraying your terror.
The night air feels suffocating with their laughter echoing in your ears.
Just as your situation seems dire, you catch a glimpse of Benny on his bike, watching the scene unfold, the cigarette hanging from his lips.
His eyes lock onto yours, and he gestures for you to come to him. Summoning all your courage, you push through the men, ignoring their jeers and grabs, and rush towards Benny. You climb onto the back of his motorcycle and hug onto him tightly as if your life depends on it.
Benny flicks his cigarette away, the ember glowing briefly before fading into the night. The bikers begin hollering and shouting.
“Looks like Benny’s got himself a prize!” one yells, his voice ripping above the others.
“Yeah Benny! Take her! Take her!” another yells as they begin to holler and cheer. The rest of the bikers and their ladies spill out of the closing bar and into the street, joining in, their voices rising in the night air with whistling and hollering.
Benny’s demeanor remains calm and composed, but you can feel the tension in his muscles as he revs the engine. The powerful roar of the motorcycle drowns out the bikers’ voices, but you can still hear their laughter and shouts in the background. Benny’s hand reaches back to gently squeeze your arm, reassuring you.
“Hold on tight,” he says, his voice steady and firm.
You cling to him even tighter, pressing your face against his back, the leather of his jacket cool against your cheek.
Benny kicks the bike into gear and peels out onto the street, leaving the jeering crowd behind.
You’ve never been on a bike before and find it exhilarating as the wind rushes past you as the motorcycle accelerates, making the street lights blur into streaks of light.
With each passing second, the distance between you and the bar grows, the noise of the bikers fading into the night. Benny maneuvers the bike with skill and precision, navigating the streets effortlessly. You begin to relax slightly, the fear slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of safety and gratitude.
After a few minutes, Benny slows down and turns onto a quieter street. He eventually stops the bike in front of another bar, this one open later into the night. The neon sign casts a warm glow on the pavement, inviting you inside. He turns off the engine and looks back at you, his intense eyes filled with concern.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.
You nod, “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
Benny helps you off the bike and stands by your side, his presence comforting.
“Do you want a drink?” he asks, his voice calm and reassuring.
You nod again, feeling a wave of relief. “Yes, that would be nice.”
He leads you into the bar, the dim lighting and the low hum of conversation providing a stark contrast to the dark, tense night you’ve just escaped.
The air is filled with the scent of beer and the soft strains of blues music playing on the jukebox. You follow Benny to a booth in a quieter corner, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for your unexpected savior.
As you sit down, Benny signals the bartender for a couple of drinks. He sits across from you, his gaze steady and reassuring. “You’re safe here,” he says, his voice calm. “Just take a moment to breathe.”
You nod, taking a deep breath and trying to steady your nerves. The warmth and relative quiet of the bar help you start to relax, the events of the night slowly fading into the background as you focus on the present, feeling grateful for Benny’s timely intervention.
The bartender brings over two cold beers, placing them on the table. Benny takes a sip, then looks at you with a smoldering gaze.
“Those guys back there, they’re my crew,” he says casually. “and you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve ever laid eyes on.” He admits.
You blush, feeling both flattered and a bit wary. “Well, they have an interesting way of showing it,” you reply, your voice tinged with sarcasm.
Benny chuckles softly. “Yeah, they’re rough around the edges, but they know not to mess with someone I’m looking out for.”
You take a sip of your beer, feeling the cold liquid soothe your nerves. “Thanks for that. I was really scared back there.”
Benny’s expression softens. “You don’t have to thank me.“
You both sit in silence for moment until you come up with a question you’ve been curious about.
“What’s it like being a biker?” You ask.
Benny leans back, considering your question. “It’s freedom,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “No schedules, no bosses. Just the open road and my bike. I go where I want, when I want. There’s nothing like it.”
“Where do you live?” you ask.
Benny smiles, a hint of mystery in his eyes. “Wherever the road takes me,” he replies. “I’ve got places I crash, friends’ houses, motels, sometimes just under the stars. Home is the ride.”
“What about you?” he asks, looking you over with curiosity in his eyes.
“I’m from Forest Glen,” you admit with a bit of hesitation.
“Fancy,” he says, lifting his eyebrows with a grin.
The heat rises to your face as your cheeks blush, feeling self conscious from his correct assumption.
“Well, your life sounds very entertaining, Benny,” you admit, taking in his rugged charm, admiring his sense of freedom and independence.
Benny’s eyes soften as he looks at you. “It can be. But it’s not for everyone. It’s rough and unpredictable. You have to be ready for anything.”
You nod, taking another sip of your beer. The differences between your structured life and his free spirited existence fascinates to you, drawing you even deeper into irresistible allure.
You share two more beers together, talking about your vastly contrasting interests. You, fascinated by his wild, unpredictable life, while he listens intently as you describe the comforts of home, your love for quiet evenings with a good book and the security of a routine. Hours go by, the conversation flowing easily between you two, until you glance at the clock above the bar seeing its 4am.
“Oh wow, Benny, we’ve been out all night. I didn’t even notice the time until now.”
He glances at you with a hint of reluctance, “You gotta go?” he asks not wanting the night to end.
You nod reluctantly. “Yeah, it’s really late Benny.”
“Let’s get you home, then,” he says, standing up and signaling the bartender. He pays for the drinks, and you follow him out of the bar, feeling a mix of contentment and excitement.
Outside, the night air is cool and refreshing, as Benny leads you to his bike. He stands next to it for a moment, adjusting his gloves and giving the machine a once over. With a swift, practiced motion, he swings his leg over the seat and settles in.
He grips the kick starter firmly, and gives it a powerful thrust. The engine roars to life, the sound reverberating through the quiet night. Satisfied, he looks over to you and extends his hand, helping you climb onto the back. “Hold on to me,” he says gently.
This time, as you wrap your arms around him you let your hands wander down, marveling at the strength and solidity of his body as you hold his waist. As the engine roars to life you imagine that he’s yours and that this connection between you is something real and lasting.
You press close against his back, feeling the warmth and firmness of him. The vibrations from the engine travel through you, heightening your senses. Soon you’re off, the streets blurring past as Benny navigates the quiet roads to your home. The city lights twinkle above, as the wind rushes past you, carrying a newfound sense of excitement for Benny.
The ride is exhilarating, the powerful machine beneath you and the feeling of Benny’s solid form in front of you providing comfort. The journey is smooth, and you feel safe, trusting Benny completely as he takes you home.
Eventually, he slows down, pulling up in front of your house. He cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is almost startling. You reluctantly let go, dismounting from the bike.
“Thank you, Benny. For everything,” you say, looking to him.
He smiles, his eyes warm and genuine.
You linger for a moment, neither of you wanting the night to end. Finally, you turn to head inside, but before you go, you look back at him one last time.
“Maybe we can do this again sometime?” you suggest, feeling a bit bold.
“I’d like that,” he replies, his smile widening.
With that, you head inside, a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. Once in doors you watch from the window as Benny starts his bike and rides off into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance. As you lock the front door you realize that tonight was the beginning of something new and unexpected in your life.
Do You Want Me?
Just as you hang your purse on the entry rack you hear the familiar sound of Bennys bike retuning. The loud rumbling suddenly cutting off.
You pull back the curtain of the front door window and notice he’s parked himself across the street. Confused you watch him pull off his riding gloves and dismount from his bike, taking a carton of cigarettes out with his lighter sparking one up, sitting calmly against his bike to smoke it.
You assume he’s waiting for someone and head upstairs. Once in your bedroom you click on the lamp and begin to unwind from the night. You take off your platform sandals one at a time, placing them in the shoe rack, feeling relief as your feet touch the cool floor.
You remove your crop top, letting it fall to the floor, then shimmy out of your white jeans, revealing your panties and bra. With a quick motion, you slip off your bra and step out of your panties, placing all the items in the hamper.
You turn on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up, then step inside. The hot water cascades over your body, washing away the stress and grime of the evening. You let the water soothe your muscles, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths.
After a moment, you step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a soft towel. You brush your teeth, the minty freshness a stark contrast to the taste of beer lingering from the bar.
Feeling refreshed, you slip into a comfortable nightgown and lie down in your soft bed. You can’t help but replay the night’s events in your mind, especially the moments with Benny. His charm and protective nature leaving a lasting impression on you.
Suddenly you sit up, curiosity getting the better of you and walk over to your bedroom window pulling the curtain aside, half-expecting to see an empty street. To your surprise, Benny is still there, leaning casually against his bike, his gaze fixed on your house.
“He’s still here?” you whisper to yourself, a mix of surprise and confusion flooding your thoughts. “What is he waiting for?”
You watch him for a moment, feeling a mix of curiosity and excitement. His presence outside your home feels both unexpected and oddly reassuring. You look at the clock on your dresser seeing it’s 5: 50 am and wonder why he hasn’t left yet and what he could be thinking.
Unable to resist, you throw on a robe and quietly make your way downstairs. The cool night air greets you as you open the front door and step outside. Benny looks up, his eyes locking onto yours, and a small, knowing smile spreads across his lips.
“Benny, what are you still doing here, are you guarding my house all night?” You tease and he chuckles before pulling a drag from his cigarette.
“I guess so,” he says, smiling as he exhales. His smile is so beautiful that it makes your heart skip a beat.
“Do… you have some place your supposed to be?” you ask, curiosity mingling with the undeniable attraction you feel toward him.
“Not till later,” he responds casually, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes you smile.
The first light of dawn begins to creep over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the street.
“The sun’s coming up, Benny,” you observe and he glances over, squinting as he takes in the view of the rising sun.
“How about I make you breakfast?” you suggest with a grin.
Benny looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours as his smile widens. “I’d like that,” he says.
He stands and flicks his cigarette as he approaches your house, and you watch his confident stride as he stretches his arms relieving his sore muscles from sitting on his bike for so long.
He stops just in front of you, his presence commanding yet comforting. He looks you in the eyes, a hint of something playful in his gaze.
“You want to go to a meeting with me today?” he asks.
Surprised, you blink. “A meeting? What kind of meeting?”
“It’s just something with my club,” he says, his tone casual but inviting. “Thought you might like to see what it’s all about.”
You feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of experiencing his biker lifestyle firsthand. Your earlier interest in him only intensifies. “I’d like that, Benny,” you say with a grin,
“Good,” he says, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
You invite Benny inside just as the sun starts filling your kitchen with early morning light. Benny looks around your place, impressed, his fingers trailing along the countertop in the kitchen, taking in the affluent atmosphere.
“You’ve got a great setup here,” he remarks, his eyes wandering over the well kept place.
“Thanks,” you say, grinning as you gather the items to make him breakfast. “It’s been a lot of work to keep it this way, but it’s worth it,” you admit.
“Well, you’re doing a great job,” he murmurs, his eyes wandering over the curves of your body, knowing you’re too focused on your tasks to notice his provocative gaze.
You smile from his remark as you start your routine, putting on a kettle of water for tea and beginning to make scrambled eggs.
You crack two more for Benny and retrieve the bacon from the fridge setting it in the second skillet, the sizzle filling the kitchen with a the delicious aroma. Grabbing a loaf of bread, you pop a few slices into the toaster to make him a full meal.
As you move around the kitchen, Benny rests back against a counter, admiring you work. His presence is both comforting and intriguing. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, adding a layer of warmth to the room.
The eggs fluff up nicely in the pan, as the smell of bacon wafts through the air
You look back at him and see he has a grin on his face clearly enjoying being made a hot meal.
“Go in the dining room Benny and I’ll bring your plate when it’s ready,” you say sweetly and he shyly smiles happy to do as he’s told.
The kettle whistles, and you pour the hot water into a set of cups, letting the tea bags steep. The toast pops up, and you butter the slices, placing them on a plate alongside the bacon and eggs. You bring everything to the table, and set his plate down in in front of him arranging everything with care.
He looks up at you with admiration in his eyes, and you respond with a warm smile. His gaze then shifts to the food you’ve prepared, his expression softens with deep gratitude as he takes in the sight of the meal you made for him.
You step away momentarily to bring the tea cups, carefully placing one beside him and then setting yours down next to your plate.
He waits for you to sit across from him and, only after you take your first bite of food, does he begin eating. His fork scrapes the plate several times as he hungrily eats.
“This is one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time,” he compliments, and you smile, watching him continue to enjoy each bite.
You begin to study him closely noticing he must be starving and tired. His scent is heavily tinged with cigarettes, his hands are calloused, his fingernails are covered in grit and his sandy brown hair is heavy with oil.
Noticing his rugged appearance, you suddenly realize that Benny doesn’t have a place to call home, a place to be cared for and comforted and your heartstrings tug for him.
“Benny “ you ask softly watching him eat his last bites of foods. “Would you like to shower here? Maybe have a rest on the sofa before we go to this meeting of yours ?” you offer gently.
Benny looks up from his empty plate, a mix of gratitude and surprise in his eyes. “That would be great actually,” he admits, his voice softening.
You smile warmly, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to care for him.
You clear the table and he takes his jacket off draping it over his chair, revealing the definition of his strong, muscular arms in his sleeveless shirt.
Seeing him getting comfortable sets you at ease, and you smile as you make your way over to him. “Will you follow me upstairs so I can show you to the shower, Benny?” you ask, and he slowly grins, his face lighting up in the way that sends a warmth through you.
“Yea I’ll follow you” he says his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and anticipation.
He follows you up the stairs, his heavy footsteps behind yours, and you lead him down the hallway, your own footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house.
Stopping at the linen closet, you pull out a fresh set of towels and hand them to him. He takes a moment, bringing the soft fabric to his face and inhaling the scent, appreciating the clean, comforting smell of fresh laundry.
You pull a toothbrush and a bar of soap from the closet, placing them on top of the towels as he lowers them slightly.
“The bathroom is just on the left,” you say, pointing the way. “I’ll be in my room tidying up and getting ready. If you need anything, just knock.”
“Thank you,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. “I really appreciate this.”
You smile, touched by his appreciation. “It’s no problem at all, you’re my guest.”
He glances down, then back up at you, his eyes softening. “You really didn’t have to any of this.”
“I wanted to Benny” you reply softly.
You give him a reassuring smile, and he returns it with a grateful look before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
You head to your bedroom and close the door. Hearing the shower start you feel a sense of contentment wash over you, knowing you’re able to care for him.
You tidy up your room and begin to get dressed, choosing a loose fitting shirt and denim jeans, assuming you’re going to be with the same rowdy group of bikers he was with yesterday. Before you put your socks and shoes on there is a knock at your door.
You open it to find Benny standing in the hallway, half naked, wearing only the towel. His well defined physique catches you off guard, and your breath hitches at the sight of his muscular body.
His defined abs glisten, and his broad chest rises and falls with each breath, his hand gripping the towel beneath the deep v-line of his waist. He looks refreshed and more relaxed. His hair, now clean and slightly damp, falls in soft waves around his face that radiates with a newfound vitality. You momentarily lose your voice, captivated by how attractive he looks.
“What would you like me to do with my clothing?” he asks gently, helping you refocus.
“Y-you can bring them to me, Benny,” you say,still in shock at the perfection of his body. He collects his clothing and brings the pile to you. Quickly grabbing a hamper, you place his clothing inside.
“Let’s go down and get these washed for you,” you announce, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“Thank you,” he says smiling again, and as you walk downstairs, he follows you. Still in the towel, holding it at his waist. As you reach the base of the stairs, you can’t help but look back and notice how the towel clings to his muscular form, each step emphasizing every contour of his physique.
You sigh dreamily and gesture him toward the living room. “Why don’t you relax on the sofa while I head to the laundry room,” you offer.
Benny nods, and you watch as he enters the living room looking the place over. He sits down on the sofa, adjusting his towel before resting back, his muscular arms outstretched against the plush cushions, enjoying the comfort.
“Do you need anything?” you ask kindly, wanting to ensure he’s comfortable.
“No, this is perfect,” he says, giving you a grateful smile.
You nod and head to the laundry room, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to help him. As you start the washer, you can’t help but think about how different your lives are and yet how connected you feel to him in this moment.
As you pour the detegent in, the morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and it dawns on you, you’re falling deeply for Benny.
When you head back to the living room, you find him studying a framed picture of your family on the mantle. “These your folks?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer slowly.
“Where do they live?” he asks.
“They passed away Benny,” you say, your voice somber. His face falls in shock, realizing his mistake.
“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammers.
“It’s alright. It’s been some time, but I do miss them terribly,” you admit, your voice softer.
His eyes gloss over with sadness for you. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” he says gently.
“Benny it’s fine, I’ll be alright .” you say with a reassuring smile.
He looks around at the living room, taking in his surroundings.
“You live by yourself in this big house?” he asks, his eyes scanning the place, noting the quietness.
You nod. “Yes, it’s just me now. It’s a lot of space for one person, but it’s home,” you say, offering a small smile.
He takes a deep breath, his gaze returning to yours, filled with a mix of admiration and concern. “It must get lonely sometimes,” he says softly.
“It does,” you admit, and then you fall silent, lost in thought realizing that you’ve willingly let Benny—a man you just met tonight— into your home and now he’s standing in your living room, nearly naked, wrapped in a towel.
The reality of the situation hits you hard and you are surprised by your own actions, you would never willingly allow a handsome stranger into your home, let alone someone you barely know, but with Benny somehow its different.
His presence reassures you. The way he looks at you with genuine care and concern, the kindness in his eyes, his gentle yet commanding demeanor, all make you feel safe with him in a way you have never felt before.
He captivates you with his powerful presence, a mix of beauty and raw strength exuding a sense of protection and confidence that is impossible to ignore. As you watch him, standing nearly naked in your living room, you can’t help but feel a surge of admiration and desire.
You look at his perfect body again, your gaze lingering on his broad, chiseled chest, his heavily defined muscular arms, and finally settling on his ridged abs, each one perfectly sculpted, narrowing down to his sculpted waist. His entire body exudes strength. The sight of him standing in your living room takes your breath away.
The truth of your motives comes to the surface as your eyes linger on him longer than you intended and you feel a surge warmth spread through you, a magnetic pull that makes it hard to look away anymore . Feeling a mixture of desire and curiosity that you’ve never felt before you begin to realize you invited him in to do more than just to care for him.
Benny catches your lingering stare, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and you can see the spark of desire in his eyes as he takes a step closing the distance between you.
“What do we do while we wait for the laundry?” he asks, his voice low and sultry. Your heart flutters, finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the desire building between the two of you.
“I-I hadn’t thought about that,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.
As he steps closer you instinctively move back, bumping into the bookshelf behind you. The sudden movement causes a book to tumble off the shelf and hit the floor with a soft thud.
He kneels down to pick it up, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, sending a thrill straight through you. It is long and thick, the biggest you’ve ever seen, stretching impressively down his thigh. Utterly impressed you quickly cover your mouth.
He doesn’t take notice and reads the title of the book he’s picked up.
“Business Franchising,” he says, grinning as he stands. “Is this yours ?” He asks and you slowly nod, slightly trembling unable to form words from what you just witnessed.
“You’re smart .” He confirms looking into your eyes with a satisfied grin.
His muscular arm extends to push the fallen book back into the slot next to your head and his closeness is intoxicating. He sees your hesitation, your head lowered as you avoid looking at him in such close proximity.
He doesn’t back down, instead, he gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, guiding your eyes to meet his. His gaze is intense and unwavering, filled with an unspoken understanding and desire. As you stare into his eyes, he searches deeply into yours, making it impossible to look away.
“I never thanked you properly,” he says softly, his eyes darkening with a mix of gratitude and longing.
The heat radiating from his body and the scent of him, fresh from the shower, fills your senses. He’s intoxicating to you, and the longer you stare into his beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes, the more your heart races in anticipation.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, his voice deep and filled with emotion. The intensity of his gaze is magnetic, drawing you in completely and his breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting as his lips move closer.
The world around you falls away as his full lips slowly brush against yours and you feel the spark ignite between you, a deep and passionate connection that sends waves of heat through your body. He kisses you slowly and deliberately savoring every moment of his lips on yours with an unspoken desire.
His hand gently cups your jaw and his fingers trace the contours of your face as you feel the warmth of his palm against your skin.
His other large hand grasps your waist pulling you flush against him making you feel as if your heart will explode from the overwhelming mix of emotions.
Bennys lips move against yours slowly devouring you as you lose yourself in the sensation, feeling an incredible sense of connection to him. His kiss is filled with a longing and desire that promises so much more.
Feeling a firmness press against your thigh, you break the kiss, peering down to see his substantial erection hard against you. Looking back into his eyes you see his intent.
“Benny,” you shakily whisper, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “We should take it slow,” you manage to say, but as the words leave your mouth, he stares at your lips with a fierce longing before looking back into your eyes. His breaths are heavy and uneven, his desire for you is intense, as if he’s fighting to hold himself back but wanting to give you more.
You slowly place your hand on his chest, trying to calm him, but his eyes search yours, filled with lust his need is evident and the intensity of the moment is fierce as you fight your reservations.
Quickly, you turn from his grasp and walk to the kitchen, creating a distance between you to force the thought of stripping the towel off of him from your mind. You want to date Benny properly, not get swept away in a moment of passion.
“I want you,” Benny admits following you closely.
“You make me feel differently than anyone ever has,” he reveals, not even giving you a moment to cool down.
“When I’m with you, it’s like everything else fades away and I’ve never felt this way before.” He confesses.
Your mind is overwhelmed with desire for him as you listen to his words, your eyes looking around the kitchen, frantically searching for anything you can do to preoccupy yourself.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says closer, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”
You reach the sink and grip the edge, feeling Benny’s presence behind you, and he presses himself against you, his strong arms encircling you, trapping you between him and the counter. The firmness of his hard body pushing against yours makes a gasp of pleasure escape your lips, and he gently turns you around to face him, his eyes searching yours.
His eyes fall to your lips, then lift back to meet your gaze. “I need you,” he confesses, his voice soft and genuine, filled with a depth of longing and desire that takes your breath away.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you process his words. The desperation in his eyes, the way he stands so close, everything about him in this moment is charged with a raw sexual energy and without a second thought, you reach up and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and need.
His body responds immediately, his large hands gripping around your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. His lips meld with yours full of passion as all the pent up tension between you two finally falls away.
“I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a mix of gratitude and desire. “Since I first… laid eyes on you.” He admits between kisses.
You nod, breathless, your hands exploring his muscular chest.
“..Yes….Benny ” you pant, feeling his strong arms envelop you knowing that this moment, this connection, is something you both desperately need.
He kisses you deeply, tilting his head and roughly capturing your mouth, his strong hands wandering down your back making you feel cherished in his arms.
Each caress and press of his lips deepens your connection flooding you with emotions you’ve never felt before.
His towel falls away, and you feel his hard length press against you making you softly moan.
He pulls his lips from yours and kisses down your neck, holding you firmly yet tenderly as you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your throat.
“How do you want me?” he whispers against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he continues his trail of soft kisses. Your heart pounds with longing and nervous anticipation.
“..Benny,” you say, breathing heavily, feeling the hardness of his full erection pressing against you.
“W-we should wait,” you gasp.
He leans back to look at you, his eyes filled with a serious depth of devotion. “I want you,” he says with unwavering conviction, “and I want to be yours.”
The sincerity in his eyes melts away your reservations. “I want you too, Benny,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.
His hands travel up tenderly pushing under your top and pulling it over your head before he discards it to the floor.
“You’re beautiful,” he smiles, his eyes lingering on the sight of you undressed for the first time. His large hands cup your full breasts with reverence, sending waves of pleasure through your body.
“I can’t believe I get to touch you like this,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe.
His lips brush over your sensitive skin, kissing your soft nipples making you ache with desire. His tongue slips out, gently flicking and swirling around the buds until they are hard and sensitive.
Then, his mouth descends, lavishing attention on them and you gasp as he alternates between each breast, sucking and kissing gently, his hand continuing to caress and knead the other. His rough touch contrasting perfectly with the softness of his mouth.
When he pulls back, his eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. His hands holding your waist as he slowly lowers down on his knees in front of you, making your breath hitch.
His hands slide up your thighs unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them all the way down, the cool air contrasting sharply with the heat of your skin
His lips trail soft tantalizing kisses up your thigh.
“I want to taste you,” he murmurs against your skin stopping shy of your panties. He slowly pushes his hand between your legs feeling you already soaked through for him and hums in satisfaction.
“Benny.. I haven’t done anything like this before …” you pant growing more overwhelmed by the second knowing he’s going to perform oral on you.
“I’ll go slow“ he promises and delicately slides your panties off, trailing kisses down your navel to your wet heat.
“I want to please every part of you,” he vows, his voice deep and filled with satisfaction as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. “I want to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin as his mouth descends.
The first touch of his wet tongue against your clit sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you gasp.
“Oh god, Benny!” you cry out, the softness of his mouth latching sending jolts of pleasure directly to your core. His warm slick tongue begins to lick expertly, exploring every inch of your folds as his facial hair grazes against your thighs making you clench. You look down at him, your breaths hitching as you watch him devour you with an intensity that leaves you trembling.
“F-feels so good Benny” you whisper, your voice shaking with pleasure.
His tongue explores deeper into your folds, and you moan desperately, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The new experience is overwhelming, the sensation heightening to a level you’ve never known.
His tongue flicks circles of precision on every stroke sending waves of pleasure through your body unraveling you under his skilled touch.
He laps at your clit, alternating between gentle licks and firm flicks, driving you insane with lust. His eyes, dark with hunger, suddenly lock onto yours, and the sight of him dedicated to giving you such pleasure makes you tremble, becoming completely undone.
His hands grip your hips tighter, anchoring you in place as his tongue delves deeper, tasting you, exploring your inner walls. You can feel the vibrations of his satisfied hums against your most intimate parts as his facial hair brushes roughly against you. The intensity of the moment takes your breath away, and you begin moaning uncontrollably, surrendering completely to the ecstasy he’s giving you.
He brings his hand from your hip, slipping one long, thick finger inside of you. Feeling the roughness of his fingertip against your soft sensitive inner walls makes you clench as an intense moan to escape your lips.
Chills cover the expanse of your body as his tongue and lips, swirl and flick against your clit with precise timing as his finger slips in and out of your sensitive inner walls.
“Benny…please…Benny“ you moan incoherently losing control of your mind, the arousal completely taking over as you lose yourself to him.
He adds a second finger inside of you and the stretch is deliciously overwhelming, your walls contract around his fingers as they move in and out with a steady rhythm. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a perfect spot that makes you gasp and arch your back.
“Benny oh god! ” you cry out your hands trembling as you grip his hair painfully. He moans loudly against your folds and you savor the vibration of his voice sending a jolt straight through your core.
You begin to high-pitch moan, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as your orgasm builds.
His tongue licks broad strokes and quick flicks against your clit while he fingers you making you see stars.
“Benny your… gonna…make me come like this” you relent your thighs trembling as you try to endure every powerful sensation.
Your walls rhythmically contract around his thrusting fingers and the pleasure becomes too much to bear. You let out a desperate cry, your hips bucking softly against his mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. You moan, your voice trembling in ecstasy,
“Benny you made me come!” you cry out as waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you light-headed and breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.
He continues to gently lick your clit, deliberately slowing the movements of his fingers inside of you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure until finally, you collapse back, catching your breath as your body tingles with the aftershocks of your intense release.
You pant, staring down at him in awe as he slides his fingers from you and into his mouth, tasting your wetness. He smiles and the sight of him savoring you sends a shiver through your body.
“Benny you’re incredible,” you say in astonishment.
He rises and stands to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he confesses his voice thick with emotion as his hand trails along your waist. “I will do everything to satisfy you” he murmurs, his gaze locked onto yours with an intense longing to please.
You feel warmth spread across your body at his words. “Take me the bedroom,” you say breathless, eager to see more of what he can do. You want him to take all the time in the world on you, feeling every part of you. His intense gaze remains locked on yours as he smiles at your request taking your hand and guiding you to the staircase.
As you walk up the stairs, you continue to steal glances at him. His strong, chiseled physique is mesmerizing, every muscle perfectly sculpted and radiating raw strength. The sight of his impressive erect cock heightens your anticipation even more.
His hand remains intertwined with yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers a stark contrast to the tender way he holds you.
Entering your bedroom, the morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Benny closes the door behind you, and you can feel the charged atmosphere enveloping you both. He turns to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart race.
He leans in, capturing your lips with his, as his hands begin to explore your body. You feel his warmth, the firmness of his muscles pressing against you, as he gently guides you toward the bed. He lays you down carefully, his touch both tender and possessive.
Benny’s lips trail down your neck, planting soft kisses along your collarbone and further down to your chest. His hands caress your sides, memorizing every curve your body. The feeling of his touch, combined with the lingering sensations from your previous climax, sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you.
He takes his time, his lips and hands worshiping your body as if it were sacred. You feel his breath against your skin, the warmth of his kisses, and the gentle firm pressure of his hands. Your mind is clouded with desire, every touch and caress heightening your need for him.
Benny grabs your hips, pulling you to him with a roughness that sends a thrill through you.
As he finally positions himself over you, his eyes meet yours, and you see a mixture of lust and something deeper, a connection that transcends words.
He looks over your body, his gaze lingering on your curves, taking in every detail with a mix of admiration and desire until there is a moment of pause, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
“My condoms are in my bike,” he realizes, his voice thick with need and before he can move to retrieve them you gently touch his wrist.
“I’m on Enovid,” you smile softly.
He blinks, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s envoid?”
“It’s a pill, I can’t get pregnant,” you explain
“Not ever?” he says and you smile gently as you see the initial panic in his eyes. You reach up, touching his face tenderly.
“If I stop taking it, I can easily become pregnant Benny.”
His eyes widen in realization. “I can… come in you?”
“Yes, Benny,” you affirm, your voice low and sultry, your eyes showing a dark seduction that makes his breath catch.
He stares at you in astonishment.
“This will be my first time… without a condom,” he confesses, a slight vulnerability in his eyes that makes your heart swell.
You smile reassuringly, caressing his cheek. “It’s okay, Benny. I trust you.”
His expression softens, and he leans down to kiss you deeply, his lips pressing against yours with a newfound intensity.
He positions himself at your entrance and the anticipation is almost unbearable. You can feel the heat of his body, the weight of him above you, and the hardness of his cock poised to enter you.
Slowly, he pushes in and you moan feeling every inch of him, the feel of his cock is intense as he deeply stretches you full of him.
He feels your tight walls taking him in, the sensation is a blend of pleasure and intimacy, he’s never experienced before making his breath hitch.
“You feel…. -So …good,” he groans, his voice filled with pleasure and awe as his eyes close immediately. His brows furrow in concentration as he savors the feeling of your slick, tight walls surrounding him. Every inch of him feels alive, every nerve ending tingling with the raw, powerful sensation of being inside you.
The warmth of his body against yours, the rhythm of his breathing, and the way he opens his eyes looking Into yours all combine to create a profoundly intimate moment.
He begins moving with slow measured thrusts, savoring the feeling of being inside you without any barriers
“Benny you’re …so deep” you gasp your voice trembling with pleasure feeling every inch of his hard cock thrust into you completely.
Benny’s eyes lock onto yours, his expression filled with raw desire and tenderness.
“I want you to feel all of me,” he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.
You moan from his words, the connection between you deepening with each thrust as he picks up the pace, his cock sliding in powerfully driving into you with a rhythm that leaves you breathless. His eyes never leave yours and you can see the raw emotion in his gaze.
“Am I making you feel good?” he rasps, his voice filled with a mix of desire and tenderness.
“Yes Benny, yes,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure.
His eyes darken with passion as he breathes, his movements becoming more intense.
“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he confesses. “I can’t get enough” he rasps. The warmth of your slick, walls grip his cock tightly, the skin to skin sensation, sending intense waves of pleasure through his entire being.
“Am I yours?” he questions, thrusting harder,“Do you want me?” he asks, his eyes desperately searching yours as you get lost in the overwhelming sensation of his large cock driving deep into your tight walls.
“Yes, Benny yes!,” you cry out, your body arching against his. “I’m yours, I want you!” you moan, clenching around him, the pleasure intensifying with every thrust of his large cock.
“I’m yours then,” he pants as he continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening the sensation of his size is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.
Without a condom, your wet walls glide against him and he can feel every pulse, every contraction, the raw intimacy of it almost too much to bear.
The connection feels so intense and primal he drives faster, thrusting harder, and pushing deeper, each motion fueled by the exquisite pleasure coursing through him.
His hips begin softly clapping against yours as he grunts thrusting into you at a forceful pace driving you both toward a powerful climax.
“I can’t hold back,” he groans, his voice raw with need. “You feel too good, I’m losing control,” he admits .
“Benny, come in me” you desperately moan, your body arching against his.
He responds with a deep, primal groan, his thrusts becoming urgent and powerful, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge.
“…-I want to feel you come around me first ” he breathes and brings his large hands to your waist pulling you forcefully to meet against his thrusting cock. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back leaving marks as you ride the waves of ecstasy, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.
“Yes Benny, yes… oh my god, yes!,” you cry out, your voice filled with raw pleasure as he roughly thrusts into you satisfying the tightness of your core. You begin gasping, your walls contracting around him as you orgasm.
His eyes squeeze shut from the sensation of your fluttering walls and he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.
His cock pulses hard inside of you, his hips stuttering as he loses control. Finally both reaching the peak your loud cries mingle together as you come simultaneously, the climax sweeping through you like a tidal wave.
He releases his cum deep inside of you, his desperate cries rattling your brain as you rhythmically contract around him, absorbing each other’s pleasure. The orgasm is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, a wave of pure ecstasy that leaves you breathless.
He slowly collapses onto you, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding against your chest. He holds you tightly in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, knowing that this moment has forged an unbreakable bond between you.
As the waves of pleasure subside, his hand gently caresses your shoulder as you both catch your breath. His face resting in the nook of your neck as his body grows heavy.
“I don’t want this to end,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and reluctance. “I’ve never felt anything like this and I want to stay like this forever.”
You stroke his hair gently smiling, feeling the warmth of his breath against your neck. “I don’t want it to end either, Benny,” you whisper back, your voice tender and filled with emotion.
He smiles at your words and reluctantly sits up sliding his large cock back until the heavy tip slips out of your entrance leaving you momentarily empty. He rests his head against your chest, his breathing gradually slowing as he tries to hold onto the connection you’ve just shared.
You continue to stroke his hair affectionately, your fingers weaving through the soft strands, watching his eyes grow heavy as he tries to fight the comforts of sleep.
“It’s alright, Benny,” you soothe him softly. “Just rest now.”
His eyes slowly flutter closed, and you feel his body relax completely against yours as he drifts into a deep sleep. You watch him for a moment, as you hold him in your arms. His face soft and serene, the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest, and the scent of his him all combine to create a profound sense of connection with him.
Continuing to stroke his hair you feel a deep attachment to Benny, realizing he has become so much than you ever expected. The rhythm of his steady breathing lulls you, and your eyes grow heavy, surrendering to the pull of rest. The last thing you feel is the comforting presence of Benny in your arms, as you drift into a deep and satisfying sleep.
🏍️ To be Continued 🏍️
🔗 Benny Cross Part 2: The Vandals 🏍️
Benny brings you to a Vandals biker meeting and introduces you to his club members and their old ladies. Everyone is surprised by your contrasting natures and pokes fun at Benny for dating a ‘fancy girl’.
They privately cast bets on how quickly you’ll use him for a thrill and ditch him once the fun’s over. Little do they know you both are in it for keeps.
You find out more about his rough biker lifestyle and his club leader, Johnny, who has Benny at his beck and call.
🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️ @finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman 🏷️ Always Tags Me List 💌 @burnthheparaphilia @purejasmine @lindszeppelin @abswifey @faegoddessog @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @thegabbyh @fallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @rougegenshin @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @pearlparty @depressedfairie
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cyranonic · 2 months ago
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I feel like one of the exchanges in S2 that fucks me up the most is this one between Louis and Madeleine that is so pivotal and yet happens basically in the background. It just says so much about who Louis is at this point in his life and why his relationship with Armand is so essentially tragic for them both.
For Armand, the ship has already sailed on betraying Louis and Claudia. He is seconds away from letting the coven ritually murder them and so NATURALLY that is the moment when Madeleine finally confirms the thing that he could never be certain of, the love that he wanted and yet could not quite trust was real. We see that in his face; the misery of that realization.
For Louis, it just devastates me to think about how much of his life has been about hiding his true self, afraid to reveal his softer feelings. In the first episode of the show, he tells Daniel that before Lestat he had never allowed himself to emotionally connect to another man. A big part of this is probably the homophobia of the time period when he was raised. Lestat seems to recognize this when he turns Louis, offering him the chance to be true to himself.
But even after Lestat, we see that Louis still struggles with this. He can allow himself to feel connected to Claudia because she is his child and then his sister. In his mortal life, Louis took on the role of provider for his family, allowing himself to show affection to his mother and sister through his role as a caretaker. Even with Paul, he is both brother and father, caring for him due to his mental illness. Becoming a vampire separated him from familial love, leading him to beg Lestat to turn Claudia so that he can yet again have that love that he connects to being a caretaker.
With Armand, Louis expresses sexual interest, but never emotional closeness. Their dynamic falls into the pattern of dominant and submissive, but without the openly expressed care and security needed to make that relationship work. Just as with Lestat, Louis has a pattern of withholding affection as a form of self-protection. He doesn't want to be vulnerable. He can laugh and joke about the sexual appeal of his partner, but is immediately uncomfortable when Madeleine brings up his deeper feelings.
I think a part of this is derived not just from Louis' queerness and his response to a homophobic society, but also his blackness. In New Orleans, he is constantly emasculated and infantilized by white men. Being called "boy" or being praised for "doing a good job" is a tactic that white supremacists use to remind Louis that he is vulnerable. And after that, combined with the trauma he experienced during his relationship with Lestat, Louis is sick of being vulnerable. So even when he is falling in love, even when his partner is a POC, Louis can't share those feelings. Louis' final words, "he knows," indicate that his withholding isn't malicious or manipulative. It's a hopeful rather than true statement. Louis wants Armand to know, but he shies away from actually having the conversation.
Anyways it's such a gut-punch moment to me that foreshadows how Louis and Armand's relationship had some potential for genuine love within it, but it was also pretty doomed from the start.
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keerysfreckles · 6 months ago
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newsies — MV1 (smau)
pairing: max verstappen x musical theater fem!reader faceclaim; kara lindsay !
summary: when lando drags max to his favorite musical, max takes a liking to the leading lady
warnings: none!
a/n: this is 100% made for me, i can't shut up abt newsies or jeremy jordan... sooo why not combine my two loves (newsies and f1 😁)
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
yourusername just posted !
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liked by jeremymjordan, landonorris and 11,037 others
yourusername NEWSIES OPENS ON BROADWAY IN ONE WEEK WHAT IS LIFE
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user1 tickets have been secured since last year IM SO EXCITED
user2 oh to get a hug from jeremy jordan 😞
jeremymjordan IM EXCITED ARE YOU EXCITED
yourusername I CAN'T SIT STILL JERE
user3 "jere" they're too cute 😭😭
mikefaist guess who has a front row seat 😁
yourusername MIKEEE 🥹🥹
user4 OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING OKAY EVERYBODY STAY CALM
user5 oh i've been waiting YEARS to see y/n in a broadway musical
landonorris missing fp1 to be there 🫡
yourusername lando no that's your job??
landonorris not that important 🤷‍♂️ plus there's someone i want you to meet
user6 someone to meet?? another driver??
yourusername just posted !
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 19,728 others
yourusername opening night, race weekend, and max picking me up from rehearsals! (eventful week if you ask me)
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user1 ABSOLUTELY LOVED THE SHOW!!!!!!!!
user2 y/n and jeremy being the power duo on stage IKTR!!
user3 lando looks like he's hating the rain 😭
user4 WAIT PAUSE WHATS MAX DOING THERE
user5 PICKING HER UP TOO??????
landonorris your fault i dnf'd ☹️
yourusername not my fault it was raining??
user6 WAIT WHAT IF MAX WAS THE ONE LANDO BROUGHT WITH HIM TO OPENING NIGHT
user7 oh your onto something
maxverstappen1 still can't believe you know how to tap dance AND sing at the same time
yourusername i'd say it's harder to be on broadway than it is being an f1 driver
maxverstappen1 no need to go around lying on social media sweetheart
twitter !
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yourusername spent my time off with this guy, anyone know who he is?
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user1 he's so pookie ugh
jeremymjordan come back to new york ben and mike won't shut up about you (i guess i miss you too)
yourusername only if max can come too
user2 the duo i didn't know i needed
user3 okay but what's max's favorite newsies song 👀
maxverstappen1 i think he's a formula one driver, could be mistaken
yourusername thanks for clearing that up!
user4 max slowly becoming all of y/n's feed is so entertaining
user5 y/n and max the unexpected duo i didn't know i needed
landonorris you didn't hang out with me 😔😔😔
yourusername sorry max is just better company???
twitter !
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yourusername just posted !
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 305,984 others
yourusername when f1 update accounts expose you and your boyfriend 😞😞
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user1 SO IT WAS THEM??????
user2 PLS THE CAPTION SHE'S TOO FUNNY
maxverstappen1 the secret was coming out sooner or later love
yourusername i know but now we can't soft launch ☹️☹️
user3 THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE GRID
landonorris call me cupid 😏
yourusername no
maxverstappen1 no
user4 NEW BF MAX CONTENT IM SO READY
jeremymjordan proud to say i knew before twitter did 😁
maxverstappen1 just posted !
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maxverstappen1 dating y/n means listening to the newsies soundtrack on repeat ❤️
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user1 THE MIDDLE SLIDE THEYRE TOO CUTE
user2 this had to mean max has a fav newsies song omg
jeremymjordan take care of her please
maxverstappen1 never plan on stopping
user3 y/n's bway bf 🤝 y/n's real bf
landonorris CALL. ME. CUPID.
maxverstappen1 still no
user4 THEY'RE MY EVERYTHING OMG
yourusername i don't think you can have your phone out in the theater sir 🤨🤨
yousuername but seriously you love the newsies soundtrack
maxverstappen1 i never said that
yourusername so what do you go to all the shows for??
maxverstappen1 my beautiful talented stunning girlfriend of course 😉
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lusmeitli · 2 months ago
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But like of each thing that in season grows
Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.
A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.
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The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.
You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.
So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.
You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.
*****
You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.
In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.
You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.
“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”
“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.
Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”
The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”
“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”
Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.
There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.
Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”
“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”
Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.
You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.
Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.
You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.
And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break. 
“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”
You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”
Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.
“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”
“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.
“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”
“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.
“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”
You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.
Tony smiled and turned to Harris.
“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”
People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”
He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”
“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.
“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.
You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.
You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.
“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.
You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.
“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”
Loki’s face looked blank.
“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”
“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.
The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.
*****
Operation Great Idea was in full swing.
So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.
Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.
Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.
Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.
Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.
Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.
*****
You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him. 
“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”
Loki just gave him a pointed look.
“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”
“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”
Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”
Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”
“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.
“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”
“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.
A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”
“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.
This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”
“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together. 
Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.
From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.
“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.
But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.
You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.
*****
Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.
But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.
Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.
*****
“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.
The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”
“Can I still talk to you?”
Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”
There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”
You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”
The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“What’s your question then?”
“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”
45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”
“Precisely.”
This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”
“Is it always toys?”
69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”
“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”
83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”
“Books, too?”
The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.
100%.
“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”
“Thank you, Y/N.”
You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.
“Books, too?” Were you busted?
*****
Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.
You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.
“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.
“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”
You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”
“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”
“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”
You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”
“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.
And then he turned his head.
Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.
Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”
You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”
Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”
“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”
His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”
You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”
“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”
“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”
He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?
“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”
Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”
“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.
His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.
“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”
He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”
You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”
His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”
You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left. 
Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.
“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”
Nine more books to go.
*****
He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.
You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?
So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.
When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.
You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?
However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.
But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.
Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.
That was mistake number one.
You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.
“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”
Mistake number two.
Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.
Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.
Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.
“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.
You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”
You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
Mistake number three.
The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.
It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?
“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”
With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.
And then he leaned in.
He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.
“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.
You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.
“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”
You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.
“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.
“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.
“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”
“No?”
You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.
“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”
“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”
You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.
You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.
Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.
Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”
With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.
*****
Harris was an absolute tosser.
He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.
In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.
However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.
You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.
So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.
Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.
“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.
You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.
“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.
Silence fell for a long moment.
Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.
He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.
You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.
“Names,” he ground out.
A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.
“H–Har…”
“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.
Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.
“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.
“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”
It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.
“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.
*****
Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.
When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.
“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”
Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”
And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.
You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.
“Thanks again-”
“Are you okay?” 
You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.
“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.
“So, I’ll see you around?”
He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”
You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.
*****
Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.
You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.
“Y/N,” someone called.
Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.
You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.
“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.
“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”
He nodded.
“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”
He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.
“Actually, I was looking for you.”
“Me?”
He took another step towards you. “Yes.”
“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.
A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”
Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.
“Am I in trouble?”
He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”
“What for?”
His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.” He slid it back in the folds of his coat.
“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.
“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.
“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”
It was impossible to look at him.
“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”
You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.
“Can I enquire what your reason was?”
It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.
But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.
“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”
He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.
“Please look at me.”
So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.
“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.
“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.
“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”
“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”
Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”
He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?
Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”
You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”
He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.
Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.
“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.
“Hm?” you said dreamily. 
“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”
Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”
You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”
Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”
*****
“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”
Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.
“Here?” Nat asked.
“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.
“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”
“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”
You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.
You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.
“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand. 
He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.
“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”
Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”
“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.
Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.
His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”
You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.
He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.
It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.
Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.
Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”
Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.
“Loki, please.”
You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.
He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.
“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”
Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.
You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.
Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.
“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.
You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”
Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.
“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.
You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.
You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.
He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.
You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.
“Stop.”
You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.
In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.
“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”
He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.
“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped. 
You nodded.
“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.
“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.
“I want you to see me.”
You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.
“Look at me.”
You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.
What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.
Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.
“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.
He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.
He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.
Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.
The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.
“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.
Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.
“I don’t know if I can…”
“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.
His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.
“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.
And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.
Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.
But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.
Christmas Day!
“Oh, wait here!”
You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face. 
“Merry Christmas,” you said.
He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.
“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.
“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”
He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.
“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.
“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”
He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.
“Thank you, love.”
Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.
“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.
Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.
“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”
His fingers wandered up your arm.
“Brunnu beggja kinna
bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,
oss hlœgir þat eigi,
eldhúss of við felldan.”
His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.
“Enn til ǫkkla svanna
ítrvaxins gatk líta,
þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi
eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”
He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.
“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.
Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.
“The bright lights of both
her cheeks burned onto me
from the fire-hall's felled wood;
no cause of mirth for me in that.”
His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.
“By the threshold I gained a glance
at the ankles of this girl
of glorious shape.”
Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.
“Yet while I live
that longing will never leave me.”
His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.
“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.
“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.
~ fin ~
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milswrites · 9 months ago
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Rosehall
~Azriel X Reader
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Summary: Azriel gives you the best mating gift in the world by introducing you to the other important woman in his life.
Warnings: none just fluff :)
Azriel had always kept secrets. You had always written it off as it being a part of his work - being the spymaster of the Night Court no doubt wracked up hundreds of them.
His entire job revolved around gathering information from the unsuspecting mouths of threatening individuals. You were sure Azriel probably knew enough secrets to tear down entire courts if he chose to spill them.
But he wouldn't.
Because something you had come to learn was that Azriel was incredibly good at keeping them. So good, in fact, that he had managed to keep one from you for the five years you had been together.
There was no doubt in your mind that Azriel was keeping something from you. In fact you didn't need to be a spymaster to notice the mysterious way he would disappear from your home some evenings with a kiss to your head and a promise that he would return.
Sometimes he would provide you with a reason, a lame excuse that you saw right through, but you would still nod and smile all the same. Peck his cheek before sending him out the door, telling him not to be too long.
If you weren't as secure in your relationship as you were, you're positive that this would have been a bigger problem for you. That you would anxiously pace the floor of your home until he returned, smelling the male as he entered just to try and see if you got a whiff of an unfamiliar perfume.
But Azriel was your mate, and that golden thread tired between you, one of the bond that had just recently been accepted, meant you had to trust the male with your entire soul. And you did.
You'd busy yourself in his absence each time he left, knowing that when the time came and he was ready, your mate would tell you where he had spent all these secretive hours.
As it turned out, you didn't have much longer to wait.
~~~~~
Azriel had told you to get ready nice and early this morning. A nervous smile across his lips as he told you he was ready to show you exactly where it was he wandered off to every other day.
A mating gift, he called it. The desire to share with you the secret he held so near and dear to his hear.
You weren't sure what to expect or how to prepare for it. But your mate kissed you on the head and told you all would be fine, that you needn't stress and he would take care of everything.
So there he was, a fragrant bouquet in his hand that wasn't for you, waiting at the bottom of the steps in your shared home. Impatiently tapping his foot as you took the time to finish getting ready.
You approached him slowly, scared that if you were to startle him by showing too much enthusiasm at the prospect of learning his hidden secret he would panic. Retreating back into the shadows as he remained secretive and untelling.
"Shall we?" He asked nervously, gulping back some of his anxiety as he did so.
The male held out his free arm for you to take, allowing you to gently grasp onto him before he willed you both to be absorbed by his shadows.
~~~~~
The dark veil of shadows lifted to reveal a picturesque view. It was a combination of thriving farmland and lush forests, a number of rolling hills kissing against the horizon in the distance. It was beautiful.
And in the center of it all, the focal point of this idyllic rural painting, there stood a quaint little cottage. The thatched roof glistening under the light of the rising sun, roses of all colours blooming in the perfect little garden which was housed by a protective wooden fence.
Azriel noticed your silent appreciation, resting his hand on the small of your back as he began to lead you in the direction of the cottage, beginning to speak as he walked, "Welcome to Rosehall. And before you get too, excited the cottage isn't the gift."
"It's beautiful!" you said in amazement, it wasn't often that you had the chance to leave Velaris and the city - as wonderful as it was - didn't bare the tranquil, natural beauty that the landscape before you did.
You didn't need the bond to tell you that your mate was anxious, the tense grip of his hand against your back told you enough. Attempting to lighten the mood you joked, "I hope this isn't where you tell me you have a wife and kids."
He released a worried laugh, cracking a wonky smile which didn't quite meet his faraway eyes, "Not a wife but... well. You'll see."
The closer and closer you got towards the cottage, the more you were able to take in. The warm light which cast a homely glow through the sparkling windows and the curling plume of grey smoke which rose from the chimney told you that the house was well-lived in.
And there was a figure tending to the garden.
A soft, feminine form who was busying themselves with planting some newly sprouting roots into the array of pots before her. Her tangled hair, which was thrown haphazardly into a bun atop of her head, was the same dark colour of your mates.
"Azriel" you whispered in shock, shaky hand flying to your mouth at the realization of who it was you were approaching. Of who it was Azriel snuck off to see so often.
~~~~~
Azriel removed his steadying hand from the small of your back, moving towards the gate before lifting the latch and entering the garden, holding it open so you could follow him inside.
The soft click of the latch being enough to alert the woman, distracting her from her task as she raised her amber eyes to you and your mate. A loving smile crossing her face as she saw who her visitor was.
She launched to her feet, bounding over to the two of you before throwing her arms around Azriel - around her son - crushing the bouquet of flowers between their bodies which were tightly pressed together in their embrace.
"Darling! I didn't expect to see you here again so soon!"
Azriel cleared his throat at her words, pulling away from the hug as he began to shuffle his feet as he looked between you and his mother, finding the words to shyly speak, "Well, I thought it was about time I introduced you to my mate. Mum this is-"
His mother didn't allow him the time to finish his sentence. Instead opting to rush towards you, pulling you into an equally tight embrace as if she had done this a million times.
"It's so lovely to finally meet you, Azriel as told me everything about you of course" she chirped. Her hands, slightly rough from her years of labor in the garden, came to rest against your blushing cheeks, "But he never told me how beautiful you are! Cauldron darling you look as though you were blessed by the mother herself."
"Mum" Azriel groaned from where he was stood, embarrassed at the way his mum was doting on you. Yet he couldn't help the small smile which trickled onto his face at the sight before him, nor the way his eyes lovingly twinkled as he watched the two people he loved most finally meeting.
"That's funny" you said, shooting a burning glare towards your mate, "he told me absolutely nothing about you."
His mum tutted, her tongue coming to click against her teeth in disappointment, chiding her son for the lack of information shared between you.
"That boy i tell you," she started, pulling you excitedly by your hand towards the door of the cottage, Azriel following in tow, "So protective. He thinks I don't get lonely living by myself in the country? No, of course I do! I could have done with your company the last few hundred years darling."
You loved his mum.
It was an easy decision to make. The way she teased her son. The way she managed to get under his skin until the tops of his ears burned red in embarrassment. The overwhelming cornucopia of love which poured from her gaze every time she looked at her son.
It was easy to see why Azriel was so cautious in telling people about his mother. You had only known this woman for a minute and you were already sure you would be absolutely devastated if any harm were to ever befall her.
Her soothing, gracious persona was infectious. Her joy sparking a ray of light inside your chest which grew more and more every second you basked in her welcoming presence.
It was understandable now, why Azriel always seemed to come back from his mysterious trips away feeling lighter and more cheerful.
It was impossible not to be whilst you were here at Rosehall, here with his mother, and not feel the contagious merriment which hung in the air as if it was the very oxygen you breathed.
She eagerly dragged you inside Rosehall, pulling you into the homely kitchen, before pouring you a drink and hurriedly sitting down at the table with you, your hands clasped tightly in her comforting ones.
Silvery tears lined her golden eyes as she took you in. Her gaze didn't hold any judgement, instead it was filled with that same overwhelming surge of love which she looked at her son with, as if she was looking at her own daughter. Hands locked together with her own flesh and blood.
"I never thought I'd see the day where my little boy brought a woman home" she squealed, lip wobbling slightly as she tried to contain her overflowing sense of delight at the fact she was finally meeting you.
Azriel grumbled defensively from where he was stood at the counter of the kitchen, arranging his mother's flowers into a vase he had acquired.
"Oh and here I was thinking he used to be a ladies man. Have a lot of trouble with women as a boy Azriel?"
His mother beamed at your banter, staring between you and her son as if the pair of you were her entire universe.
"I was just waiting for the right person to come along. Luckily for me it was my mate" he uttered as he shrugged, coming to stand behind you. Resting his large hands on your shoulders, unable to sit down as the small kitchen only housed two chairs. A sign of the lack of visitors Azriel allowed his mother to have.
"Oh what a sweet boy" his mother snapped, a playful humour lacing her tone, "waiting until he accepted the bond before he came and brought his mate to meet his own mother. Did I miss the wedding too?"
You giggled at her words as Azriel began to sputter excuses to the woman who raised him, the headstrong lady clearly wasn't going to drop the topic of his prolonged wait to introduce you anytime soon.
"Please darling," she turned back to you, her furrowed brows relaxing as she spoke, "tell me I raised my son right and he at least got you a proper mating gift. Something romantic."
You looked up to your mate, his expectant eyes meeting your own elated ones. It was your turn for your lip to quiver due to the abundance of love which radiated in this home, squeezing his mother's gentle hands as you spoke, "He's given me the best mating gift I could have asked for."
And he had. This gift had been more than just Azriel introducing you to his mother, you could see that.
No, it had been Azriel giving you a part of his soul. Sharing with you his deepest secret, one that you would cherish forever as long as it was yours to hold.
There, in the cramped cluttered kitchen of Rosehall, Azriel's world just became a whole lot bigger. And as he looked to his girls, his two beautiful girls, Azriel allowed himself to relax. A tender smile settling on his face at the realization that he had found his home. His entire heart and soul belonging to the two women before him.
He was going to have to buy another chair.
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missbunnybunny · 1 year ago
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❣💌[ I'm stravin' , Darlin' ]💌❣
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Tw: non-con, dubcon, yandere, stalking, Somnophilia, Drugging, breeding, cockwarming.
A/n: this is my first detailed smut. It was going well at the start until I took a wrong turn and fell off a cliff. Possessive music got influence. I don't know what I wrote, am going to hell, his more delusional; than me. smh. ENJOY!
Note: this is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader. Based on the songs Eat Your Young by Hozier and An Unhealthy Obsession by Blake Robinson, helped write this song. pet names such as Darlin, Love, and good girl. If I forgot something plz tell me.
╔═.✧ 🖤 ✧.═══════════╗ ▶︎ 𝕾𝖍𝖊’𝖘 𝖘𝖔 𝖉𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖎 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊. ╚═══════════.✧ 🖤 ✧.═╝ Part 2 ↥
You were exhausted. Who could blame you for being tired? You enjoyed your job as the owner of a small coffee shop, but you were drained, and your staff adored you.
When they had an emergency, you were incredibly nice to them and understanding. You didn't inquire. You just told them not to worry because you trusted them and they trusted you.
You didn't hesitate to assist your staff when an aggressive customer screamed and yelled at them. You listened to all sides of the story and kept your eyes on the cameras.
When they realized they didn't have a foothold, you politely requested them to go. But if they weren't kind enough to go, you merely called the cops. You would never let them get away with it; you had patience, but not that much.
So, after the day was done, you secured your doors and walked upstairs to your house. You double-checked that all the doors and windows were secured and that the security system was turned on and operational.
Taking a soothing bubble bath, dressing, and preparing for some much-needed rest. Closing your eyes and basking in the warm embrace of sleep. Your eyes slowly opened, and you attempted to move your fingers, but they wouldn't budge.
You had been under a lot of stress recently due to overwork, and sleep paralysis was now typical for you.
You could hear your door opening and the floors squeaking. The ebony form of a guy appeared. He was tall, and the broadness of his shoulders suggested that he worked out.
As you felt the bed drop at your feet, he sat at the end of it. His hand began to go up and down your leg gently. Coming to a halt at your thigh. He hummed to himself while pinching your inner thigh.
You uttered a grunt. He came to a halt and gazed up at you. As he peered down at your face, his face slowly entered the frame. "Oh, how pretty," he said, lovingly cupping your face. "I don't think I could hold myself back." H
is breath lightly fanning your face, he murmured. He kissed you, and you let out a frightened moan and screwed your eyes shut. He took advantage of the situation by inserting his tongue inside your mouth.
While squeezing your inner thigh, he hummed to himself. His hand creeps up and beneath your shirt from your thigh. He pulled your nipple and squeezed your breast.
He linked his mouth to yours with a thin string of saliva. He licked his lower lip. "You taste amazing," he replied with a smile.
He kissed your lips once more, and you felt him get out of bed. You sprang awake and took a glance around. Your clothing was in good condition and not flung around.
You raced to your restroom and looked in the mirror; there were no handprints anywhere on you. You rushed to your front door, terrified, and examined your alarm system; nothing was amiss. You were befuddled, and your thinking was jumbled.
You summarized it up to well: an odd wet dream, stress, and being punted up may all lead to unusual nightmares, especially when combined with sleep paralysis.
You sipped your favorite comfort drink, rubbed your temples, and took a few deep breaths. Exhale a sigh of relief as you feel your tension wash away.
You put on your business attire and prepare to open your shop. The business opened at 8 a.m., so you were there by 6:30, and by 7 a.m., staff began to arrive.
Everyone was having a fantastic time in the shop, which was filled with laughter and music. When the clock struck eight, you laughed, "It's eight, you know what to do. Hit it!"
Everyone queued up got into place, and you opened the store. Customers arrived quickly after that.
When a well-dressed man entered and approached the counter, your staff was busy. As you finished serving one of your usual clients, you noticed him and called, "I'll be with you in a minute."
"Thank you, hun." The kind old lady stated. You smiled at her and walked over to the counter to assist the man. "I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting too long?" you said as you set up the ordering machine.
"No, not at all." He informed you in hushed tones, he was attractive, you had to admit it. His voice seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't place it.
But you shrugged it off and smiled as you asked him what he needed.
"A coffee with a cake," he answered politely. "Ah, what cake would you like sir, we have many options." you beam up at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Oh, what would you recommend, my dear?" he asks, quietly tapping the counter.
"Would red velvet cake be acceptable?" "It's one of my favorites," you inquired. He nodded, and you concluded his order with a small 'mm'. " Would that be all, sir?" "If so, this is your total," you say, pointing to the sum on the side of the register. " Yes." He responded and paid.
As soon as the order appears on the screen, one of your staff takes it while you assist with the other tasks and clients. Since the front of the store was fully filled, the man was directed to the back.
He could see the counter and you from where he was seated. The manager patted you on the shoulder and smiled at you as they spoke to you. You chuckle and smile as you remove your apron.
"I'm taking a break, everyone," you say. 'Okay, ma'am,' they respond. You step away from the counter and take a seat on one of the unoccupied stools close to his table. While on the phone with someone, you smile and giggle.
He can't stop staring at you. It was fortunate that he instructed his assistant to investigate you. He even postponed a lunch date with the daughter of a well-known corporation.
He didn't mind because he could tell she was attempting to catch his attention. He couldn't care less about how much her clothing cost or how it 'accidentally' revealed her chest. He'd rather be here, staring at your face and grin.
It was a coincidence that he first spotted you; one of his clients requested to meet at this cafe since they genuinely enjoyed your coffee and sweets. He couldn't get your face out of his mind and thoughts after that.
Your phone call had finished, and you turned to meet his gaze. You froze as you studied his face. He saw the fact and grinned.
You realized he hadn't touched his cake and sighed in despair. "Do you not like the cake, Sir?" You questioned him quietly, your gaze fixed on the plate. "Oh, no, it's not like that. "I was saving the cake for last because it was so delicious." He let you know quietly.
"Oh, okay," you said as you stood up and turned around. "Would you like to join me?" he offered, and you graciously accepted his invitation.
You spoke till your break ended. He became a regular client after that and frequently asked about your favorite treats to try.
It had been months since then, yet you still felt tired whenever you saw him. He was the final customer in the shop on one such occasion.
You sent your employees early, not wanting to keep them waiting so they didn't miss their bus or train.
"It's closing time, Mister Blackwell; you should go home," you said. "I told you to call me James, Darling." He told you firmly. " However, I agree. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you." While drinking his drink, he informed you.
"Would you mind joining me before I leave?" He remarked this while pointing to the seat next to him. you exclaimed, "You are extremely persistent." You shook your head and set your favorite drink on the table.
Turning around and laying a little slice of cake next to your drink. You had no idea what he had placed into your drink by the time you sat next to him. He grinned as you took a sip of your drink, seeing your expression shift.
He watched as your eyes gradually closed and you collapsed on the table, spilling your cup on the floor. "What…did you do?" You questioned him carefully, feeling yourself nodding off. "Don't worry, my love, I'll take care of you."
As you eventually slid away, you heard him declare. You wake up with him twirling his tongue at your clit, then cat licking your entrance, going back and up to your clit, before his tongue went into your pussy, tasting every inch of it.
You eventually let out a whimper as the knot in your gut finally split and you filled his mouth with your cum. "You're awake, I hope you don't mind," he whipped his mouth with his palm. "I was dying to taste you." He stated.
His gaze moved up and down your body, forming an image of you in his mind. You attempted to speak, but all you got was a broken wail. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you were entirely bare to him.
Your eyes began to water, and silent tears streamed down your cheeks. " Why are you crying, Darlin?" He stated this as he licked your tears away before giving you a ravenous kiss, His tongue quickly claiming your mouth.
He released your lips as he stated, "It will take a while until you can move again, but don't worry, I'll make you feel good." He gently graded your hand before bringing it to the bulge on his pants.
"This is what you did to me." He talked as he stroked your palm up and down his bulge, letting out a groan as he began to accelerate.
He stared down at you, hungry, and proceeded to remove his outfit. He was now entirely exposed for you to see. " Oh, very lovely. I'm curious how you'll look after I slit you in half on my dick." He murmured this as he sank his thick fingers into your pussy, causing your back to arch.
When he noticed your body jerked up and your jaw fell open, he smiled even more.
He discovered your sweet spot! He curled his fingers in the same place over and over. You felt that familiar tight knot in your gut emerges, prompting you to tighten your walls around his fingers.
"That's it, cum on my fingers like the good girl you are," he said. Your walls flutter subconsciously at his words, "Oh, you like being called a good girl?" he questioned, advancing faster.
Your moans and whimpers sounded like music to his ears. He was itching to sink his dick into you. You came undone under him with one more stroke, cumming on his fingers and hand.
He took his hand away and brought it up to his mouth, licking your juices. "You taste divine." He exhaled.
He positioned himself at your entrance, tapping his dick on your assaulted lips. He graded your legs and pushed them on your chest in a typical mating press position, and you could plainly see his pink tip and how enormous he was.
Once he got you the way he wanted you, you felt the swelling tip of his cock press against your tight entrance and buckle his hip. He bottoms out in one push, his pelvis colliding with your entrance.
He took your breath away since he was so large. And, as he claimed, he was splitting you in half with his dick. "Don't pass out on me, Darlin," he remarked, softly patting your cheek with his palm." The fun is just getting started," he remarked as he kissed you on the lips.
Allowing you to get used to his size before proceeding. You were so tight! And you are his and his alone.
His cock began to slide in and out of your tight pussy, as if you were nothing more than a fleshlight at his disposal. "Y/n I'm going to make you only mine," your desperate cries mixed with groans as you sought to stop him.
The sound of skin smacking against skin got louder as he thrust harder and harder. Your muscles were absolutely spasming, and your eyes could hardly fixate or focus on his sweat-splattered face above you.
So this was how it felt to be with a man like him, putting you precisely where you should have always been.
BELOW HIM, you were groaning, saliva flowing from the corners of your lips, and your eyes rolled up every time his cock brushed your cervix and his pelvic bone stroked against your swollen clit.
Your eyes met his and he kissed you passionately; the longer the two of you kissed, the more his hips appeared to press into yours. The headboard of the bed was crashing fiercely into the wall, adding yet another obscene sound to the symphony.
You could feel his dick pounding against your walls; it was clear he was nearing his climax, which was going to totally fill you up to the point of leaking, and then fuck a baby into your womb.
As he furiously pounded into you, his hands came to your waist and had a tight grasp on you. You felt James base expand and get even bigger only seconds before his hot sperm was spurting into your womb, and the veins surrounding his dick were pulsating against your walls, making you gasp for the nth time.
The sensation of being totally filled was so intense that you almost ended up cumming again.
He lay down next to you, panting and allowing you to collect your breath. As your body was extremely sore, he began spooning you from behind his cock, still inside you.
"Sleep, Love, you must be tired," he kissed your neck. I'll prepare something for you in the morning." You were exhausted, and your half-lined eyelids eventually closed as you slept off. James grabbed up his phone and called over your sleeping figure.
The phone rang till someone answered, "Ray?" "Did you do what I asked?" he inquired calmly. "Yes, I made sure to delete the footage of you breaking into the home months ago, as well as the alarm system," Ray stated gently. "Perfect," James smiled, hanging up the call as he fell asleep next to you.
After so long of only admiring you from afar and secretly stroking you as you slept, he was overjoyed to finally hold you in his arms.
Don't worry, you can have a better life because He will take excellent care of you. "It'll take some getting used to, but we'll make it work." were his final thoughts as he fell asleep affectionately sound asleep with you in his arms.
Am gonna dig a hole and hide. bye....👩🏽‍🦯
Update there’s a new hole to hide in now 🕳️ 👩🏽‍🦯
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daydreaming-in-letters · 6 months ago
Text
Against the wall
05/24/2024
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,917
Warnings: rpf, alcohol, pining, naughty thoughts, fluff
Summary: Sometimes all it takes is a room full of people to figure out you want nothing more than to be alone with that one person.
A/N: Guys, this was written in a fevered frenzy. Haven't felt the muse in months and don't know whether she did a good job, but I am so happy she is not dead.
Picture is a screen cap from this video
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
If you enjoy my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.
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She had forgotten how much she loathed being in a room full of people. Maybe it was a condition that came with age, to appreciate silence and solitude, or maybe, just maybe, it was entirely his fault. 
Her back leaning against the wall, his hand was splayed out right next to her head, supporting the weight of his body as he leant in slightly so he could focus on her voice above the noise of the bustling room. He had never been this close to her, so close she could smell the intoxication scent of his body, and in an instant the chatter was drowned out by the wild drum of her heart, which in turn made it one of the most challenging tasks she had ever had to face to string her words together into meaningful sentences. 
But it seemed she had somehow succeeded, against all odds, as he turned his head to look at her, his face so close now that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face. And as if that had not been enough to clear every coherent thought from her head, he chose to turn his lips up into the most dazzling smile upon her silly joke. 
It made her dizzy, combined with the sparkle in his eyes it was an almost deadly combination, impossible to resist. It had captured her completely. He had captured her completely, occupied her every thought in a way that was bordering on concerning, for her sanity, maybe even for the idea of feminism she lived by, but even more so for the very essence of her existence. 
She had seen it all so clearly, a happy future, no one to bother her, especially no man to cause her even more worries than she already had. Just her, the path in front of her clearly mapped out. And then he had crossed her way, and it had dawned on her that what she had deemed the perfect life would seem like nothing but a cheap substitute next to a life with him. Certainly, she could still be happy without him—if she needed to. 
The problem was, she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to live a life without the sound of his laughter, without his twisted sense of humour and the way he looked at her when they were engaged in a conversation, as if there was no one else in this world, as if it was only him and her. He made her feel secure in a way no one ever had. When he entered the room, she could feel her shoulders relax, her breath going more easily and the galloping of her heart slowing in pace. And when she talked to him, it was as if she had never done anything else in her entire life. There was nothing of the usual unease or urge to appeal between them that might, under different circumstances or with a different man, lead her to a point at which she had either moulded herself into a completely different person or where everything meaningful she had wanted to say and that had been phrased so clearly in her head became lost somewhere on the way from her brain to her mouth. With him though, she could just be herself, safe in the knowledge that he would not judge or tire of her at some point. 
If only she knew with the same certainty if he felt the same. Obviously he did enjoy talking to her as well, or he wouldn’t be standing here right now, choosing to talk to her when he had a room full of people to choose from. But did he also hang on her lips like she did on his? Did he also wonder if they were just as soft as he imagined them to be? And would he like her to step closer, or pull him closer to her instead? And when her hand rested against his chest then, would she feel the same thunderous beat that drummed behind her own ribs? Would it start to flutter as soon as their lips met and refuse to fall back into its regular rhythm until their bodies lay sweaty and spent, their desire finally sated? And in their blissed out state, would he hold her? Would he pull her that impossible inch closer and press the softest of kisses to her forehead, telling her all she needed to know without uttering a single word? Would he still be there in the morning to see her tousled hair and sleep-wrinkled face and look at her with the same affection she thought to find in his gaze right now? Would he—
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His back still turned on the intruder, he gave her the most dramatic roll of his eyes she had ever seen, making it very hard for her to hide a snicker. “Come, there is someone I need you to meet.”
She wanted to protest, wanted to do whatever it took to keep him close, but before her brain had even been able to form a protest, he was being dragged away from her, his lips forming a silent apology. 
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This social engagement was tedious. The thought came as somewhat of a surprise to him. There had been a time when he had truly enjoyed this kind of event, but tonight something just was not right about this party. Well, not ‘something’ as in an unknown factor that made this party different from other parties. It was not unknown to him at all. In fact, this evening had been perfectly enjoyable up until that moment he had been so rudely separated from her. 
She was still leaning casually against that wall, the only difference being that he was too far away from her now. To be fair, any distance that exceeded an arm’s length was too far for his taste. She on the other hand did not seem to mind his absence much, as someone else had already taken his place by her side to engage her in what appeared to be a most entertaining conversation. Not one glance did she spare him, while all he could focus on was the ludicrous attempt to will himself back into his old position, close to her. So close that her breath would waft across his neck again as she spoke, the heat of her body crawling over his skin. Maybe her hand would find him by accident—or intentionally, which would be all the better. After a moment he would return the favour, finally giving in to his longing to feel the smoothness of her skin against his fingertips.
Instead all he could feel was his mouth opening as she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of champagne. Would he be able to taste it on her tongue if she allowed him to kiss her? He almost hoped he would not be, because what he really desired to taste was her, the exquisite, singular flavour only she possessed. 
And still, that would not nearly be enough to sate his hunger. He wanted to taste all of her. Her lips, her skin, the moist heat at the apex of her thighs. He wanted her so much he could feel his mouth drying up upon the ardor of his wish, no, need for her.
What would it be like to have her? He had imagined it a thousand times over and yet there were so many questions still left unanswered. Would she voice her pleasure or enjoy in silence? Was it her wish to be the director of their passion play or did she want him to lead the way? Would his name glide over her lips in a soft moan or would she scream in ecstasy when they had finally reached the peak? Would she stay serious, caught up in desire, all the way through or would there be giggles and laughter? And what then, after they had given themselves to each other completely? Would she leave, seeing this as an experience best enjoyed once only? Or would she stay, her naked body resting against his in peaceful slumber, and allow real intimacy to begin? 
If it were his choice to make, he would know exactly what to choose. But he could not blame her if she opted for something different. Commitment was tough, and there had been times when he had thought that he, like so many others, was simply not built for it. But watching her now, he could not recall how he had ever been this blind about himself in the first place. 
It had been strange at first, that sense of belonging that always befell him when she was around, completely unexpected. But ever since he had felt it for the first time and realised its true meaning, it was as if he had discovered a law of nature, complex and yet so easy to understand, as if it had always been an inherent part of him.
Once again, the dryness he had felt earlier returned to his mouth, more demanding this time, until it had managed to push every other thought aside for a moment. Instinctively he set the glass to his lips, his eyes not once leaving her until he had lifted the bottom high enough to block his view. It had only been for the blink of an eye, but now he found himself almost choking on his final gulp when his eyes returned to find her spot against the wall empty all of a sudden.
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Leaving without a goodbye was childish, she knew, but she just could not shake this nagging feeling that had befallen her out of the blue, that being in the same room with him without talking  to him or being able to at least be near him without looking as if she was running after him like a duckling was far worse than not being here at all. 
With a sigh she set down the glass on an empty table she passed on her way to the exit. What a waste, as it was almost half-full, but somehow it did not taste quite right, and so she left the rest of her drink behind, like the dream that she would ever be to him what he was to her. 
It was dark as she entered the hallway and the air felt uncomfortably cool in contrast to the air inside that had been heated by all those bodies. Their chatter was still following her now, echoing from the walls left and right. 
It must have obscured the noise of his steps, or maybe they had not made any sound at all. Otherwise she would have recognised their rhythm from a mile away. But instead, she only realised that he was there as his warm hand closed around her wrist and gently brought her to a stop. And despite the fact that she had halted her steps almost instantly, she had not expected him to be this close now as she turned, so close that she could see the startled expression of her eyes reflected in his own. So dark, so green. 
He did not utter a single word. He did not have to. She knew when his grip on her loosened and his fingers softly glided between hers. She smiled, and so did he. And then, slowly, they began to walk.
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taglist:
@rosecentury
@lowkeysimpinloki
@fightmespideyboy
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emilybeemartin · 1 year ago
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Hey! Hey, would you like to be a park ranger?
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USA Jobs just posted a bunch of national park ranger positions for summer 2024--everything from small historic sites to the big flagship parks like Yellowstone and Yosemite. These are seasonal positions specifically for interpretive rangers, which means you begin around May-ish and end around September-October-ish. Interpretation is the branch of the NPS that does educational programming and frontline visitor services, like working in the visitor centers, leading guided walks and talks, and just generally interacting with the public in a friendly, helpful way.
If you have a four-year college degree in just about any subject (honestly, I've worked with people with degrees ranging from theater to business to geoscience), or 12 months' relevant work experience (customer service, retail, education, camp counseling, etc), or a combination of the two, you're eligible to apply. All you need is a resume and transcripts if you're using education to qualify.
Just go to USAJobs.gov and search for "park ranger interpretation" in the search bar. The key things you're looking for in the results are listings from the National Park Service, the code GS 5 (which is the entry level for this position), and the phrase Not to Exceed 1039 hours (which indicates it's a seasonal position).
Some tips!
>Each application requires you to answer a questionnaire about your experience with things like customer service, preparing educational programs, researching scientific topics, etc. Be generous with yourself on these, because other folks will be. Even if you don't think you're an "expert" in something, consider your past work creatively. Have you presented research projects in class? Have you worked retail? Can you keep up a professional demeanor when somebody's upset? You have the qualifications. Rate yourself as such.
>Be thorough and specific in your resume. The NPS isn't a one-pager resume organization. They need to see evidence that you have the qualifications you say you do. The best way to ensure this is to copy, word for word, the phrases in the above questionnaire and insert them in the relevant places in your resume. So if the questionnaire says "Can you research, prepare, and present scientific information to a lay public," go to the appropriate place in your resume and write "I researched, prepared, and presented scientific information to my peers" or something similar. I kid you not, my current resume is ten pages long.
>Cover letters are optional but helpful! There are lots of templates online to help you write one; be sure to be professional. Mine is around 250 words and has three short paragraphs:
1- Position I'm applying for
2- Quick summary of most relevant work/education experience
3- Additional skills/rizz that makes me stand out (for me it's writing/illustrating, which helps me create visitor programs)
>Two things the NPS loves that will boost you are foreign language skills and being a US military veteran. Highlight these elements if you have them.
>Are you a schoolteacher? Check out the Teacher-Ranger-Teacher program.
>The big flashy parks are posted as standalone listings, but most of the others are bundled into "Multiple Locations" that are based on region. Consider applying for many of these smaller monuments and historic sites---they get far fewer applicants and are easier to secure. And many are absolutely beautiful. Want to work at Arches? Also apply to Natural Bridges. Want to work in Yellowstone? Also try Lassen Volcanic. Prefer history over science? You have dozens of amazing options from every facet of American history.
>Apply today! Apply now! Many of these parks cap their applicants because they get so many, and the rest will close after a week or so. A glance at the ones that were posted today and yesterday show them either closing on October 15 or 22. Some regions haven't posted yet, so keep checking the website in the next few weeks.
I love my work as a park ranger---it's such a rewarding way to spend a summer (or two, or ten), and it can open doors to other things. You won't get rich, but you will make great friends and great memories, add a killer section to your resume, and spend four months immersed with smart, passionate people in some of the coolest places in the US.
Plus you get a SICK HAT
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deleteddewewted · 5 months ago
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Doc Headcanons
A/n: Just some headcanons of mine about Doc. I love him so much!!!!
MDNI
W: NSFW under the cut, Writer has a body hair fetish
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He’s not usually the most showy about his affection but he isn’t hiding it either. He just doesn’t see the point in being loud about how he feels about anyone or anything.
Has a temper. You might think age has brought him a tolerance for ignorant and stupid behavior but you’d be surprised when he snaps at someone for not taking his advice to heart when he explains they cannot combine two medications that do not react well.
Doesn’t know what rest or a moment of peace is. If it’s not one thing it’s another. There’s no such thing as being relaxed to him.
Spends too much of his time being a big brother to most of his colleges, especially GIGN. So when Twitch wants to show him a new gadget of hers he’s forcing himself to ask questions and act interest. It’s not for a lack of caring he’s just very tired and very busy.
When he was younger he used to experiment a lot. Sexually he’s secure and knows what he likes, he explored and tried a lot of what he wanted to do when he was younger but now that he’s older he wants to still try knew things but with a consistent partner.
Has briefly thought about getting married just to fulfill a dream he’s had. He’s not big on weddings but sharing the rest of his life with someone sounds nice.
Hairy. Very hairy. His arms, his chest, his stomach and his shoot trail. Maybe not all that much on his stomach but you can still see some thin hairs that get thicker under his belly button and leading to his public area.
Happy to listen to your problems even if they’re minute. If he likes you he’ll enjoy listening to anything that interests you. He might not share the same taste in music but he likes creating bonds with people so he’ll endure.
He’s not a self conscious person but when someone mentioned in passing that he was going to look handsome with grey hair he made an effort to take better care of his hair. Military regulations as well as medical ones require hair to be well kept and groomed so he’s always sported the same short and swept back hair style for years. He likes his grey hairs even if at first he thought it looked silly cause it was only at the side of his head.
If he could do anything other than his current job he would like to be a homebody. He technically could decided to retire right now but his need to help others trumps a desire to be at home doing nothing. He still tries to find opportunities to stay in his room with coffee and a book.
Gustave has a large family so he's used to being pulled in one direction and another while having his ear chatted off. He only minds this when he's visiting his family on leave and they begin trying to set him up on dates with people he has never meet before.
NSFW:
Very much the type to fall in love hard. His work brings him little to no time to himself, which means he will find himself fixating, daydreaming, and thinking about any and all interactions he's had with someone he is interested in.
Not the possessive or the jealous type but if he's dating you he will find it annoying if your attention is taken by someone else who's too handsy to you. He wants to spend time with you but he cant if someone else is having your full attention.
Kisses your hand all the time. Likes the feeling of your skin on his and he does it to reassure himself that you are there with him.
Likes it when you touch his body, makes him feel special and complete.
For however much he knows it is best to use a condom he cant help himself but want to fuck you raw. Lube, spit, whatever, he just wants to be inside you and fuck you till you're happy and tired out.
He likes seeing you come on done with his mouth. He loves giving oral so having your cum on his face or just dripping down his chin makes him even more aroused.
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aha-chuu · 3 months ago
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Natlan Act II Spoilers
So we get to see the fight between Capitano and Mavuika, thankfully (I remember Hoyo robbing us of Dainsleif vs Abyss Twin before). I just wanted to share my thoughts on it a little because it's kinda wacky?
So obviously the fight itself is sick as fuck, and Capitano and Mavuika match each other blow for blow. Then Mavuika lands a hit and Capitano retreats (with aide). Pretty solidly this is a win for Mavuika, but Kinich expresses afterwards that they were quite evenly matched. This is something Hoyo emphasises, presumably for two reasons: 1) maintain the stakes, and 2) keep up Capitano hype.
Because here's the thing. Harbinger losses - especially outright losses - aren't that common. Just look at all the gnoses they've gotten. What's a lot more common is this thread of harbingers "losing the battle but winning the war".
Discounting Mondstadt for being sort of short and tutorial esque, every other region plays with this.
In Liyue, we defeat Childe, he summons Osial, we defeat Osial, but Signora planned all that anyway.
In Inazuma, Scara defeats us, we defeat Signora, but that Scara defeat left him with the gnosis.
In Sumeru, Dottore fakes a retreat to lead us into a false sense of security! We may defeat Scara-mech, but Dottore is around the corner with sleeping gas and his own deal to get two gnoses.
In Fontaine... In Fontaine we're kind of working with the Fatui the whole time, so this really only applies to Childe losing to the oratrice and then the narwhal but that still helping Arlecchino anyway.
The point of all that was to demonstrate this trend. But, there's a secondary link between all of those events - the way the Fatui come out on top each time is through a scheme. We have about 50/50 (ha) odds across all these actual fights, but the Fatui have their 100% win streak via trickery and bargaining.
The Natlan archon quest establishes that Capitano won't use these methods. It is a divergence from most other harbinger characterisations.
Capitano flat out refuses to attack Mavuika while she is weakened, preferring a fair fight. This is not a strategic choice, for one, but he is also still injured - waiting for Mavuika to regain her power would place Capitano at the disadvantage.
This combination of factors does do a good job of setting up Capitano as a character, but it leaves some weaknesses in establishing him as an antagonist. We're used to harbingers essentially having plot armour when it comes to gnosis hunting, via the trusty method of "oh well all that was their plan all along" and a hand off off screen. In this quest, Hoyo pretty much cuts that option off: Capitano's attempt on the gnosis is too brazen, his ideology too steadfast. But since he loses against Mavuika in a fair fight, Hoyo risks lowering the stakes. If Capitano couldn't beat Mavuika already, there's no way he will beat her when injured and refusing to attack while she's vulnerable. So why should we be worried about whatever "threat" he poses?
Hoyo brush this aside a little by having Kinich claim they're pretty evenly matched, implying Mavuika won more by chance than totally overpowering Capitano. It's also not unlikely that another harbinger will show up later and take over gnosis duty. But Capitano is No1... Is he really just here to show off how strong Mavuika is? And exactly how is Mavuika so strong?
According to Nahida, the top three harbingers are archon level powerful. She claimed to have no chance in a fight against Dottore, who is no2. Ofc, her combat strength is pretty low, whereas Mavuika's is obviously much higher.
Raiden was strong enough to incinerate Signora in one slash. With that context, Capitano putting up any fight against Mavuika seems impressive.
Narratively, there is no way to do a satisfying rematch with the current set up. Which makes me think that Hoyo aren't planning on a rematch at all - but a team up.
The event that took place in Act I can be broken down into three stages:
Group contest (Kachina & Mualani vs everyone else)
Solo fights (Kachina vs Mualani)
Actual war (group vs Abyss)
I think that this sequence will end up being representative of the Natlan plot, and more specifically reflect the dynamic between Capitano and Mavuika.
What if, 500 years ago, Capitano was part of Mavuika's group. Not necessarily in the big war against the abyss, even, perhaps before that. It would explain his ties to the Natlan of the past, at the very least.
Then the present: Capitano fighting Mavuika for the right to change Natlan's "rules", just a few days after the pilgrimage competitors used the same arena to battle each other for the right to protect Natlan against the abyss. Those "rules" he spoke about we know to be the methods and rituals that slow down the abyssal assault. That makes Capitano and Mavuika's duel also to decide who can protect Natlan from the abyss.
The future: team up. Maybe aligning with Mualani and Kachina, Capitano could appear to rescue Mavuika later on, despite losing to her in the arena. This doesn't mean they'd be besties like the girls are, rather that these same general actions could take place, regardless of individual motivation.
I just can't see another satisfying route with what we currently have
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taro-pdf · 4 months ago
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Humans are Space Oddities: Biology
Faja [alien, via translator]: thanks for subduing that quadril earlier. Prak [human]: it’s my job. I’m security. Why are you following me? F: I was wondering about your digits. You have so many of them. P: … my fingers? F: and the plates at the end of them. It seems a strange place for armor. P: … my fingernails??? They aren’t armor they're keratin. 
F: Fascinating. And then there’s the fact that your hair is sparse. What function does it serve? P: I don’t know?? Why do you have a beak and how can you speak without lips??? F: are you curious about my species? Let me tell you! P: nope, nope, I’m good! [Prak slips into his room and shuts the door. Faja texts them on xer watch] F: - if you ever have time I’d love to hear more about humans! - Your biology is so weird!
Notes:
This dialogue happens after this story.
Faja (xe/xer) is a tuscia, a species with five main bio sexes that speaks at frequencies higher than humans can hear, hence the translator.
Prak (he/they) is a space human who left earth due to their hatred of pineapple. Humans aren’t the only ones with the traits Faja was interested in, xe just likes to ask questions and was fascinated by the combination of strange evolution that lead to humans.
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botanicalsword · 1 year ago
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Rising sign observations • part 1 (Aries-Virgo)
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Photo credit @le.sinex
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Aries Risings
People hope to become fearless individuals who always stay true to themselves throughout their lives, but often forget this after they are born. When they become fixated on playing the role of a warrior, they feel exhausted in this life.
Having grown up in an active environment, they possess a natural sense of rhythm and enjoy various sports, displaying physical vitality. They are always active, energetic, and constantly moving, which makes them less susceptible to weight gain. Additionally, they are quick to notice and prevent any changes to their figure.
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Taurus Risings
The combination of all sensory experiences may result in them having a talent for music and art. This talent may come naturally or may be a result of growing up in an environment rich in visual, auditory, and other sensory stimuli, which made them particularly sensitive to beauty.
While having abundant resources can provide a great sense of security for Taurus risings, it can also become their cage.
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Gemini Risings
During their childhood, attention was rarely given to them by their father or family. Their home was like a social gathering place, and the focus of family activities was not on the family itself.
They all enjoy having fun, but they also spend a lot of time alone. What sets them apart is that their way of being alone is not lonely or withdrawn; they enjoy fun with themselves. This is because they often feel out of place in their environment, as they have known since they were young that they are very different from their family. They have developed a habit of enjoying their own company.
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Cancer Risings
Individuals who prefer to remain neutral may struggle in companies with complex power structures. This tendency towards neutrality is a self-protection mechanism developed during childhood, leading them to hide certain emotions. Although they tend to avoid getting involved in company politics and not taking sides, this often results in losing potential allies. Despite their efforts to avoid offending people with their attitude, their actions may still cause offense.
Their attitude towards people and things is very different. They are very gentle towards people, but they have direct expectations for their career. People would expect them to be the gentlest, most approachable, and least competitive person in the office. However, when working with them, they are found to be very persistent, decisive, and want to be in charge.
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Leo Risings
Since their youth, they have been highly valued and well-cared for, in a strong sense of self-esteem. They view themselves as unique and outstanding and feel responsible for others.
Despite possibly spending all their money, Leos typically do not end up impoverished due to their likable nature, they are willing to lend a helping hand.
Leo risings have a desire to be remembered by others and in turn, make an effort to remember others as well. They value recognition from others and hope to remember those who value them in order to remember others.
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Virgo Risings
They are well-suited for service-oriented positions, particularly those that involve fixed and repetitive tasks. They work quietly, pay close attention to detail, and are unafraid of hard work. They can perform regular tasks for extended periods without becoming bored.
Their ability to focus on details makes them well-suited for jobs that place a premium on attention to detail.
As children, Virgos often have a common characteristic - they value practicality in all their demands. They aspire to become functional when they grow up. Many rising Virgos maintain a habit of continuous learning and further education in practical skills, rather than pursuing knowledge or intellectual pursuits.
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(To be continued)
Masterlist @botanicalsword
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ficsbyuzi · 6 months ago
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All the ways lead to you - part 1
Characters: Aemond Targaryen, Inara Maegyr (Original female character) in a Modern HOTD AU
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Warnings : FICTIONAL PLOTLINE. Established relationship. Me swooning over Aemond Targaryen and writing this🤭 Inara being a sweet and awesome girl.
Note: This post and that a mutual of mine (@/elegantsplendour) remarked that this fic series has 'Succession' vibes. I wasn't aware of the show when I wrote this last year, and I still haven't watched it. Any resemblance to its plot is purely coincidental. Everything that is going to be re-posted here, comes from my delulu mind.
Inara's thoughts and a little background about her are in italics.
Word count - 1.2k
"You know me, mom, I can't just start working in some random hospital as a junior doctor," Inara spoke to her mother on phone, cradling it between her ear and shoulder as she watered her kitchen plants on a Saturday afternoon, “I am trying to find a job where I can practice both medicine and my art.”
"Where on earth will you find such a job, Inara?" Her mom questioned disapprovingly. "You will soon be a licensed doctor and able to practice medicine. You should start with a clinician job and save up for your MD tuition."
"Let me at least try, Mum. Maybe I can join some makeup manufacturing labs or intern with those big-shot skincare providers."
Inara heard her mom sigh and tut in response to her plans, a reaction she was quite used to by now. Yet, the conviction in her voice didn't falter as she continued, "I will definitely enroll in an MD program. Don't worry.”
As long as Inara could remember, she had always loved makeup. Even as a child, she would rummage through her mom's makeup kits and spend hours in front of the mirror, painting her own face and sometimes her mother's.
Her parents always wished to see her in the white coat of a doctor - a dream she shared with them. Cracking the medical entrance exams straight out of high school was a cakewalk, her sharp intellect paving the way for her.
Despite plenty of medical schools in Essos, the allure of studying abroad was too strong and liberating. The prestige of the renowned Citadel Medical School in Westeros had captured her attention long ago, and securing a seat there felt like destiny fulfilled.
While medical school required her to focus entirely on classes and books, her creative side yearned for exploration. Her love for makeup never faded, and after dedicating half her life to studying, she decided to follow her heart. A heart that always danced between two worlds, two passions, yearning to embrace both simultaneously.
As soon as she adjusted to her new life on a foreign land, she enrolled into a weekend certification course near her medical school. And, thus began her journey towards becoming a rare combination of a licensed medical practitioner and a trained makeup artist.
Days blurred into nights as she balanced the demands of medical studies with the pursuit of her passion.
Six years flew by in a whirlwind of learning and she was now nearing the end of her curriculum. After the sixth and last month of her hospital training and formal graduation, she would be a licensed medical practitioner. Thanks to her dedication to both medicine and makeup, she now stood as a certified makeup artist, with an expertise in skin care and prosthetics.
After freelancing a bridal makeup assignment a couple of months ago, she decided to take a detour from a predictable route towards advanced degrees or clinical positions straight after college. She planned to give herself a year of exploration into other career options before enrolling into an MD in Dermatology. And so she made up her mind on freelancing or finding a job that could extend her stay in Westeros, thereby allowing her to save up for her MD.
"Anyway, you've been so busy with everything else, you haven't even thought about finding someone. You're not getting any younger!" Her mom steered the course of the conversation to the topic she dreaded the most.
Oh boy, here it comes!
The inevitable discussion about her biological clock and society's expectations for single women was about to begin.
"Mom, please, I'm twenty four, not forty four!"
"Yes, and about time you started thinking of settling down!"
Rolling her eyes, Inara let out a sharp sigh.
"I have chores to do, mum. I gotta go," she cut the conversation short, trying her best to hide her rising impatience, “Bye! Love you!”
"Fine, But please think about what I said. Love you. ”
After ending the call, Inara continued staring at her phone's home screen. Smiling faces of her family stared back.
Her mom’s words still lingered in her mind, as she made herself a cup of chamomile tea and settled herself infront of her laptop.
She sipped her tea, smiling and recalling her mom's statement about doing tons of different things at a time. She had always loved to hustle. And, she loved how chimeric her career goals were. It wasn't an easy road, but she was determined to make it work somehow. Career satisfaction had always been her first priority; finding someone to date or marry, wasn't.
Inara's attention snapped back to her laptop screen, her eyes widening as she noticed the fourth and fifth unread emails from the top. Both arrived around the same time from the job search website she had signed up for.
The subject of the first email read:
Requirement of an assistant make-up artist on an upcoming TV Show.
The second one read:
Requirement of a physician / medical officer(s) on a TV production.
Universe works in the strangest of ways. All you have to do is ask.
She quickly opened both emails in separate tabs. They were from the human resources department of a television production house in King’s Landing. A period drama based on mythological history was in pre-production, and the HR team was hiring people on contract basis.
As someone who rarely watched television,or movies, she chuckled at the thought of working on a TV production house. Nevertheless, she decided to give it a try. With a few quick clicks, she accessed the links for both the positions and uploaded her resume. As she crafted cover letters for each position, wishful thoughts surfaced again. She let out another exhilarating chuckle, as a wave of nervous excitement crawled down her spine.
How fun and cool it would be, if I could somehow do both the jobs simultaneously.
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A week later, as Inara was on her way home from the hospital where she interned, her phone rang. Seeing a number with the King’s Landing code, she gasped.
With her heart alight with anticipation, she answered the call. Clearing her throat, she adopted her sweetest and most professional tone before greeting the caller.
"Hi, Dr. Maegyr, this is Stannis calling from the HR department at Red Keep Productions. We've shortlisted your resume for the opening we posted about. Will you be available for an interview next week?"
"Hello, Mr. Stannis. Sure, I...I will be available!" She tried her best to mask the excitement in her voice. "Uh, I applied for two positions. May I know which one I have been shortlisted for?"
"Dr. Maegyr, your profile is one of the most interesting we've received so far. You have been called to interview for both positions. I can't say with certainty right now if you'll be hired for one or both roles as that will be decided based on your performance in the interviews." She could sense his smile through the phone.
"Thank you," she mouthed, looking up, her amber eyes sparkling with gratitude.
---x----
Part 2
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oatmealwrites · 12 days ago
Text
Catch Kira, NOT Feelings! Ch.1
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L x Fem!Reader
Ch.1 is finallllly done LMAO. This is probably gonna be a medium-long fic but I haven't quite decided yet so buckle up. Eventually some NSFW in later chapter but relative slow burn at the start.
Masterlist
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(Post time skip 1 - Aka Light in university now & helping the investigation. Just after ukita death)
November 4 -
You shift your weight from leg to leg inside the elevator, rehearsing your introduction and replaying the instructions from Mr. Yagami over and over again. The red LEDs indicate a higher and higher floor of the hotel and each second feels like an eternity passing.
“You’ll be fine Y/N. I’ve already worked it out with the task force, there’s no unnecessary expectation of you.”
You turn to Mr. Yagami and let out a slow exhale, feeling the pressure leave your lungs but the weight remaining on your shoulders.
“I know, it’s just big shoes to fill. Only the best are working with L to catch Kira.”
“Well Matsuda joined right away,” he replies, a small smirk on his lips, “If that makes you feel any better.”
You look down at your shoes and let out a light laugh, you’ve worked with Matsuda before. Interning under the Chief before he left the police force created lots of opportunities to work with lots of different officers. Matsuda was always one of your favorites.
“Ha, it kinda does. But he’s loyal and committed to the case-,”
“You are too. Don’t sell yourself short. I went through the interview with you regarding the risks in finding Kira and have seen your analysis take down a variety of other criminals. You have great potential to be an officer.”
Mr. Yagami gives you a paternal smile and his eyes hold nothing but honesty, “I’m glad to have you on this task force. I mean it.”
“Thank you,” a grateful tone leaves your lips and you can’t help but feel better at his compliments. It was a reassurance you needed to hear.
The elevator dings softly and the metal doors slide open with Mr. Yagami extending his arm over the sensor to allow your exit before his. As you step onto the plush carpet of the expensive hotel floor, a feeling of guilt washes over you. Mr. Yagami leads the way down the hall and you follow in silence, still comparing yourself to the other members of the task force.
While yes you were determined to catch Kira, the reasoning behind it wasn’t all about morality. To be honest you almost agreed with Kira at first - a new world where people who did wrong actually got punished compared to the slow and tedious bureaucratic pace of justice was appealing. Though after the killings of petty criminals and FBI agents, the resonance of Kira’s message faded to one of selfishness.
Though maybe I’m not much better. Truth be told, catching Kira was a priority for you ethically, but so were the very extensive benefits it offered. Being a graduate student in criminology and psychology there were very few jobs you could pursue upon graduation. That, combined with the over public disappointment in the very justice system you were about to work in, made finding a secure and well paying job almost impossible. But, if you could catch Kira and get a recommendation from someone like L on your CV? The possibilities would be endless.
The heel of your shoes has a muffled ‘click’ on the carpet as you walk behind Mr. Yagami and eventually reach a door near the end of the halfway. Almost no other room doors were present on this entire half of the hall, indicating this room was extremely large and extremely expensive to rent out.
Yagami gives you a small smile of encouragement and knocks a specific pattern before scanning a plastic room card and turning the knob. There’s a glow from the overhead ceiling lights that pour out of the room and into the hallway along with several hushed voices chatting just out of sight.
“I think we should review the – “
“Sshh.. I think Chief is back.”
You follow Mr. Yagami past the room entrance and enter what seems to be a penthouse hotel suite living room scattered with papers and boxes alike. A group of men stand around the coffee table and pause when you and Mr. Yagami walk further into the room.
Matsuda catches your eye and instantly smiles, “Woa, Y/N! I didn’t realize you were going to join us!-”
His expression is cut short when another man smacks him lightly on the back of the head, “Idiot! Wasn’t the first thing that L said to do was not reveal any names?”
Your eyes widen. These guys are serious.
Matsuda looks up at the man in worry and then at you apologetically, “Ah I’m sorry,” he scratches the back of his head sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to put you at risk there.”
You smile lightly and Mr. Yagami walks further into the room to pick up a few papers and scan them over, interested in what the group was working on before you two had arrived. “It’s fine Aizawa, L already cleared us all of being Kira. The only issue would be if Y/N was.”
The statement holds no threat of you actually being Kira but it’s enough to make you feel uneasy and the other members shift awkwardly. Has one of them already been suspected of being Kira? No way… not a member of the police surely?
You snap out of your thoughts and give a light bow to the group, “Hi everyone. My name is Y/N and I’m excited to join you all in the investigation to catch Kira. Let’s work well together.”
The group softens and smiles at your introduction and one by one introduces themself briefly. You already knew Matsuda, the man who scolded him was named Aizawa, and the tall man who was quietly skimming papers was named Mogi.
“This is a small group. You weren’t kidding Mr. Yagami when you said only the most committed are involved.” The statement has a light-hearted joke sense to it but no one moves to laugh.
Mogi shifts his weight awkwardly, “Well.. we actually lost a member, Ukita, not too long ago. Kira killed him.”
SHIT. You want to die right then and there. Kira if you can read my thoughts please strike me down too.
“Oh! Im so sorry I didn’t know-”
“It’s alright Y/N. We purposely keep super tight lips about everything and all our members. It makes sense you didn’t realize. But I hope this serves as a reminder of the gravity of the situation at hand. If you aren’t willing to die for this cause, I recommend you turn away now. You’re still young and have a lot of life ahead of you.”
You turn to Mr. Yagami and blink before shaking your head. A life ahead of me? I have no other career paths and no way to climb and earn a livable wage without doing this. I need this case and this recommendation.
“No- I want to do this. I want to be here. I want to catch Kira.”
The group’s tension dissipates and they all turn their attention back to the coffee table and it’s papers.
“Here,” Mogi starts, handing you a manila folder, “Watari dropped these off earlier. We should get started with the most Kira clues.”
You take the folder gently and sit on the edge of the armrest of the couch, skimming through the papers until a set of photographs tumble out. Gently closing the folder you reach down to retrieve the photos, only hesitating when you see the subject. Prisoner suicide notes.
Carefully you flip through each photo, quietly trying to take it all in. There’s four photos in total each numbered in the corner:
A male prisoner had stabbed himself in the cafeteria with a knife. His suicide note written on the back: “Theives deserve their punishment”
A male prisoner who was beaten to death in the prison yard. He had left a note in his cell: “Dead ends everywhere”
A male prisoner hanging himself with a note in blood on the wall behind him “The victims deserve justice”
A female prisoner who had jumped from the roof. Her suicide note written on the back: “Are you watching, L?”
You examine the photos and their suicide notes for a few minutes, your brows furrowed in focus. At first you lean over to the coffee table and place them all note-side up; after a moment you flip them over to show the images. A bead of sweat drips down the side of your face and you bite the edge of your thumb nail without realizing.
Before you can properly go through the rest of the contents of the folder, Matsuda speaks up, “Oh the photos? Those have stumped me all morning. But-!” He leans down to flip the images once again. He places them in the order 3,1,4,2. “In this order they say something. “The. Thieves. Are. Dead.”
You nod and look up at Matsuda, “Yes, in this order we can assume Kira is trying to convey a message to us.”
Something isn’t right; this feels off somehow.
You release the nail from your teeth and shake your head, eyes never leaving the images, “Yes we could, but it wouldn’t make any sense. Are all of these inmates thieves? Or is Kira referring to someone else?”
Matsuda looks at you wide-eyed and a bit embarrassed, “Oh, in the folder it mentions two of them were murderers now that you mention it..”
No, there’s something else wrong here.
You keep staring at the images, “it’s strange Kira would leave such a vague message with such a group. Mr. Yagami already informed me how Kira did his tests about the actions leading up to a death, so writing these notes would have some significance. But..”
You gently lift the images again, this time studying the attire of each inmate in the photos. “Each person is from a different jail. Their clothing and health state indicates they weren’t in the same prison system.”
Mogi leans over and shrugs, letting out a soft sigh, “why does that matter? Kira has killed from nearly every jail in the country at this point.”
You meet his gaze for a moment, “I mean this work is kinda sloppy. It’s obvious he didn’t do proper research on each prison.”
Mogi opens his mouth in slight shock, waiting for you to elaborate. You tilt your head and survey the image of the deceased female inmate, your eyes lingering on the background building of the prison. Without missing a beat you lift the photo to Mogi, “I mean this jail is only one floor. If you jumped 3.5m (11.5ft) maybe you’d break your ankle.” You stare at the image of the woman’s distorted body, “Not 4 ribs, both kneecaps, and skull.”
Mr. Yagami stares at the images over your shoulder in a mix of disbelief and awe; he places his hand on your shoulder supportively. Matsuda lets out a light gasp and takes the photo of the woman and looks at it incredulously with an audible ‘woa’.
You look up from the table and then at Mr. Yagami, “Are there any other fake Kira photographs in this pile?”
Before the chief can answer a voice rings out from the connecting bedroom door that is now swung open, “Naturally all of them were doctored for this test. But nice work Y/N. You solved that faster than I was expecting.”
The entire group turns to face him and you find yourself raising to your feet in respect. L.
Your eyes drift up and latch onto his; almost in a trance. Dark disheveled hair seemed to splay in every direction, covering where his eyebrows would be, and his awful posture rounded his back forward. His deep gray eyes and purple bags from lack of sleep contrasted the paleness of his skin. Rather than professional attire, baggy denim jeans hung low on his hips and an oversized henley draped his frame. He shifted his weight from side to side waiting for your response.
Any words paused in your mouth as you drank in the appearance of the man in front of you. Half of you was awestruck to see the famous detective you’ve only heard stories of in person; the other half was mentally scolding yourself to set some higher standards.
Maybe it’s because you spent too much time around men with pensions and none your own age. Yea. That’s it.
The bar really is in hell huh.
You swallowed any stupid remarks and extended your hand to him, “It’s nice to meet you, L.”
L looked at your hand apprehensively and slowly reached forward to complete the shake. The look on his face made it seem like he was forcing himself to shake your hand and only resolved into doing so just to be polite. Jerk. It’s not like my hands are dirty.
“Well, now that introductions are formally over, I have some other details on the Kira case I would like us to focus our attention on.”
L sauntered further into the room and slid the manila folder with the test photos and information to the side. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a senior-aged man appeared with a rolling cart containing paper boxes filled with miscellaneous files on the bottom and an arrangement of desserts and coffee cups on the top.
With a whisper of ‘thanks’, you gently lifted a mug from the cart and blew some steam away from the rim, lips hovering the ceramic. While L and Mr. Yagami began separating some of the files, you took a seat on the couch next to Matsuda, giving him a light elbow in the side.
“Hey, did you know that was a test?” You whispered.
Matsuda looked at you wide eyed, “What? No way! Ryuzaki never tells me anything when he plans stunts like that!”
You raise an eyebrow and turn to look at everyone else in the room, “Ryuzaki..?”
Your eyes stop when they meet L’s, who was staring at you as if he was involved in the conversation from the beginning. You avert your gaze awkwardly and turn your attention back to the warm mug in your hands, cheeks slightly warm. Most people look away when they get caught staring…
“My apologies for any confusion. I’ve told the group they can call me Ryuzaki or L during this investigation. Given that we know Kira needs a name and face to kill, it only makes sense.”
Mogi shifts in his seat with a slight tick in his eyebrow and mumbles lowly, “Yea as if you didn’t already know everything about us though.”
You turn to the man and then back at L, or Ryuzaki, or whoever, noticing the tension in the room.
“Ah I see.” You say lightly, trying to progress the conversation and go back to the main objective at hand.
With prolonged silence now hanging over everyone, you reach forward to grab two small sugar cubes and place them into your coffee before taking a sip. In your peripherals you can see Ryuzaki watching every movement of your hands but never saying anything. This time when you lock eyes he turns away first.
Mr. Yagami lets out a slight cough and begins passing folders out to everyone, “Alright enough small talk, these folders contain some of the tapes the Second Kira had sent to the news stations. Let's split into teams and see what we can cover.”
Placing the mug on the coffee table, you reached forward to grab a folder and flip through the contents.
“Lets have Mogi and Mr. Yagami compare the DNA found in forensics to what we currently have in the database. Matsuda and Y/N, please look at the transcriptions and real Kira suicide notes to look for any irregularities. Aizawa, please extend our list of contacts to include radio broadcasters as well,” Ryuzaki takes the hangnail on his thumb between his teeth while speaking, “We don’t know if the Second Kira has made contact with Kira #1… but there’s a chance they may get desperate and try other outlets of communication if they haven’t already. I’ll be reviewing the 4 different outcome tapes on the television if anyone needs my assistance. Ok?”
There’s a unified “yes!” after he finished speaking, the small teams immediately breaking off into separate sections of the hotel room.
You sit at the kitchen table of the vast suite, skimming your hands over various transcriptions, each one describing an unyielding obligation to the cause of Kira. You tilt your head and furrow your brows between the two documents in your hands.
“Hey Matsuda?”
“Hmm?”
“These two are completely different in terms of voice, grammar, everything..”
Matsuda looks up from his own set of papers and leans in over your shoulder, letting out an awkward laugh, “Oh I should have said this earlier- we actually wrote some of them pretending to be Kira in order to get the Second Kira talking. Why don’t we pile up the ones the team made and focus only on ones from Second Kira.”
Your mouth formed a small ‘O’ at his statement before nodding. Matsuda skims through the files, deftly collecting the papers of which the task force had authored into a neat pile and sliding you a different stack of notes to analyze. This time the stack included the real Kira authored suicide notes. You mutter a ‘thanks’ and go back to your position hovering over the table and straining your neck. For some reason you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to analyze the ones against the transcription the task force had authored. Just focus. You let out a breath and get to work.
****
After what seems like a few hours the group is called back into the main living room to discuss everyone’s progress. Mr. Yagami stands first, “Well the DNA on all the videotapes matches each other. It’s definitely the same person sending these.”
Mogi rubs his hand on the back of his neck with some frustration, “The DNA is in the police database; not for a criminal record but one regarding a victim of a crime. It may take some time before we can get approval to unseal the records… But at least we will know for sure who our suspect is within a few days; a week at max!”
The group hums with energy at the lead and Ryuzaki takes the nail of his thumb in between his lips again turning his attention to you.
Matsuda stands and points to a few lines on the paper, “We noticed a particular line about ‘showing notebooks in Aoyama’. It’s out of place and might be an indication that the Second Kira wants to use this as a meeting place.”
Ryuzaki nods and shuts his eyes, “I was thinking the same thing.. Now if there’s nothing else-”
“Wait.”
Ryuzaki opens his eyes and turns his attention back to you and Matsuda looks down with a slight puzzled expression.
You pick at your nails in nervousness for a moment and look at the group, “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions here but I noticed some similarities in the actual Kira suicide notes and the transcript you all had made..”
Mr. Yagami’s face pales and he stutters a few words out before Ryuzaki lifts his hand without even looking to silence him. The hangnail now forgotten, he leans in over the armrest of the couch only inches away from your face, as if he wanted to study every detail.
“Really? That’s very interesting Y/N please continue your reasoning,” his voice is the most energetic you’ve heard it.
The proximity makes you instinctively lean back until he closes the distance so far you have no more room to move. Almost smelling the scent of sweet coffee on his breath you nervously exhale and lift both the task force written transcript and a suicide note from Kira.
“The wording on the on the Kira suicide notes are very egotistical to me. It’s taunting like he’s one step ahead and in a position of earned authority,” you then tilt your head to the scripted video, “and this mentions about bestowing forgiveness. It’s an uncannily similar voice to a person in a position of power looking down on the recipient.”
Ryuzaki leans in almost a millimeter closer before sinking back into his seat with an eerie smile on his face. You hesitate, not putting either document down and seemingly staring back into the trance of his eyes.
“Isn’t that good though? Your ability to write an extremely good dupe..?” You're barely whispering it to Ryuzaki with your entire focus on him. His eyes don’t leave yours, and it feels like this is an entire conversation between just the two of you.
“Oh I didn’t write that.”
For a moment your eyes widen and the illusion of a private conversation comes crashing down around you. Before you can part your lips for clarification Mr. Yagami’s voice booms out from across the coffee table, “Enough of this Ryuzaki! I thought you invited Light to this investigation for him to help us!”
Light?
You were well acquainted with the Yagami family, having spent nearly the same amount of time with them as your own household. Light was extremely intelligent, well spoken, and borderline perfect at everything he did; it makes sense Ryuzaki would want him working this case.
Though where was he? You scanned the room quickly from your seat. Oh yea, class. An unfortunate situation you could relate to, considering you had a 9am lecture tomorrow morning and it was already 8pm.
“I did invite him for his help. I just find Y/N’s observation extremely interesting. I’m aware this situation makes you uncomfortable, but having now a second person make a connection raises my suspicion of him to 10%.”
“He was writing that note while trying to sound like Kira. Don’t you think questioning him for doing his task well is a bit much?”
Your head was beginning to hurt. Light was a suspect of being Kira? It didn’t make any sense, surely there had to be a mistake. You turned your attention back to the conversation between Mr. Yagami and Ryuzaki, noting the intensity of fire in each of their eyes. They were being serious? I guess that makes sense as to why L wanted to test me when I first came in. And why the group seemed so uneasy at the earlier mention of one of them being Kira.
“You’ve probably filled in the gaps haven’t you?”
Your eyes shoot up to meet Ryuzaki’s, the distance between your faces short, but not nearly as close as he was earlier. Unconsciously, you lick your bottom lip with a slight stress on your face and nod slightly.
Mr. Yagami sighs and sinks into his seat, his head cradled by his left hand. The group looks around each other awkwardly and Ryuzaki lets out a sigh of exasperation which indicates they’ve all had this conversation before.
“Let’s take a slight reccess please? Y/N you should probably start heading home for your classes tomorrow.”
You look up at Mr. Yagami, and the group mumbles in agreement, slowly standing up and stretching.
“Nice work today rookie. Can’t wait to see what you figure out next,” Mogi says genuinely while placing a supportive hand on your shoulder.
You grin up at him and wave bashfully, it wasn’t like you solved the case. Yet. You could practically hear his recommendation letter now and the thought of it was enough to spark some energy.
As the group shuffled out to take either vending machine or smoke breaks, you noticed Ryuzaki staring at you while you slipped your jacket over your shoulders. He was usually staring at you anyways, but this one was different; before you could even raise an eyebrow he stood up and walked to the bedroom door. Glancing at you once before slipping inside.
With a quick scan of your surroundings to make sure no one was watching, you casually walked over to door and stepped inside as if it were the exit. The bedroom in question was barely a bedroom at all. A desk stacked with hundreds of papers sat by the window, bookshelves lined the walls, and the floor was littered with evidence boxes. The only thing that made it a bedroom was the king size bed made neatly and untouched against the wall jutting into the center of the room.
Ryuzaki was standing at the desk, digging through a box mumbling to himself about if ‘Watari had moved it’ before pulling out a small cellphone and turning to you.
“Ah, I’m glad you got my signal.”
Signal? He stared without blinking and then casually walked into another room. It wasn’t so much as following a signal as it was making sure he wasn’t having a stroke.
“Yea, is there something you wanted to speak about?”
Ryuzaki looked at the door and then motioned for you to come closer; which you obediently did without even a second guess. Only inches apart he studied your face again, “I’m glad you picked up on that note sounding a little too authentic. The very notion drives Mr. Yagami up the wall.”
You nod, “I mean it makes sense, it’s not exactly a light accusation.”
Ryuzaki follows your words and then twitches as if he were re-listening to them; only catching the joke on the third time through. A small smile cracks his face and he tilts his head to the side, “Yes I agree. Being accused of Kira is a heavy burden, especially considering the life in prison sentence or death penalty when caught.”
The air deflated out of you.
You suck in a breath defeated, “Yep.. so why exactly did you call me in here?”
“I needed to speak in private,” Ryuzaki gnaws at his bottom lip with his canines and then locks eyes with you again, “What I’m about to ask needs to remain between us.”
Immediately your eyes widen and heat rushes to your face. The proximity of him seems to magnify everything and a warm feeling began to brew in your lower abdomen. The low lighting of the room, the intimate whisper of his voice, and the large king bed in your peripheral skewed any assumption of what he was about to say next.
I need to go out and touch grass. Call some friends, go on a date, do something. This guy is a total weirdo and I’m standing here shaking like fucking teenager.
You nod, not wanting to even speak and risk the shakiness of your voice being heard by him.
“You go to the same school as Light, correct? I’d like you just to keep an eye on him while you’re both on campus if that’s alright.”
You look from one eye to the other, taking a moment to pause and reflect on his proposal. The length of your hesitation was enough to make L backtrack slightly, “If you’re uncomfortable with that I completely underst-”
“I’ll do it.”
His eyes widen and blink twice before a small smile breaks his lips again, “I’m glad. I don’t have much time to go to campus or classes anyways so it’ll be nice to have to monitor him while I stay here.”
You nod in understanding before double taking at his words, “Wait do you go there too?”
Ryuzaki now fiddles with the cellphone in hands, typing rapidly and not bothering to look up, “Hm? Oh yes I entered the school to keep track of Light, but I won’t need to follow him around there if you’re willing to help me.”
You swallowed, noting the way he casually mentioned going to the university you were initially rejected from as if you asked him the weather.
Before you can mumble anything under your breath, Ryuzaki gently takes your hand in his and flips it to be facing palm-up. With his hand still on your wrist, the other places a cellphone into the palm and he looks at you intently.
“It’s important to note that on the off-chance Light really is Kira, it means he’s willing to risk killing to protect himself. I have emergency belts for everyone, but I’d also like you to have this.”
His hand falls to his side after a moment of them lingering a beat too long and he takes half a step back; turning to face his desk but not looking at anything in particular.
You click a few buttons on the phone and notice the way he had already placed his contact information into the device. A small grin grazes your lips and you slip the phone into your back pocket, “This way I can text information without sending a SOS? Plus it probably looks more natural anyways.”
Ryuzaki turns back to you, his hands firmly at his sides like they weren't just around your own, “Exactly. Besides, Light will learn you work with us shortly and he’ll start being on guard. If he thinks that cellphone is your personal one, he won’t think twice about you using it in front of him casually.”
A wave of excitement washes over you, fieldwork was always your favorite and this felt like a borderline James Bond movie.
“You got it!”
Ryuzaki pulls out his own cellphone from his baggy denim pocket and begins typing into it, “I’ll have Watari drive you home tonight. Would you like an escort to class tomorrow?” His eyes briefly look into yours with an emotion that could almost be described as hope. Almost.
Instinctively you raise your hands, “No that’s alright. I can just take the metro.”
Ryuzaki nods curtly but you continue, “But if you can arrange a ride after my classes to here that would be nice.”
His eyes hold yours for a moment and he turns away to his desk, this time walking up to the wooden drawers and digging through them, “Alright. I’ll tell Watari, just send your course schedule when you have the moment.”
Ryuzaki never turns back around and after a few moments of an awkward silence you spin to leave the room without either of you saying a word. The weird intimacy of the moment left you feeling an emotion you couldn’t quite pin point.
After saying your goodnights to the group and following Watari to the black luxury Sedan in the parking lot, the image of a warm shower and snuggling into bed seemed to be calling your name. Shoes clicking on the ground, you slid into the seat of the opened passenger door Watari had opened and watched him walk around to get into the driver’s seat.
Quickly telling him your address you found yourself staring out the window and for a split second, seeing the figure of a man watching you from the penthouse suite you had just exited. But by the time you blinked he was gone; the only thing pulling you from your thoughts was the slight buzz from your back pocket of the phone Ryuzaki had given you.
Ryuzaki:
Please be careful tomorrow. Let me know if anything goes wrong.
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