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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 9 months ago

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Big Hands (Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!PlusSize!Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend, Spencer, are getting ready for a night out, when your insecurities start to get the best of you.

Word Count: 1531 -- it's just a lil guy

Warnings: Body insecurities, maybe a little bit of a big-girl-soapbox

A/N: I definitely wrote this very quickly this afternoon because I literally just felt like it. This is just a short lil one for the big gals who just want someone to notice them.

Anyway hope you enjoy! Thank you all who have commented/reblogged/liked my last fic!!

Your jeans hugged your curvy hips as you tugged them up to your belly button, covering the bottom, larger part of your stomach. You were tall, for a woman, but not taller than Spencer. He was, what, 6’1”? You stood around 5’9”, so he still towered over you, still had to look down at you when he spoke, still had to crane his neck to whisper in your ear.

You were wearing a flowy, sage green blouse. Why were clothes so hard to find for a larger girl? It was all cold-shoulders and obnoxious patterns. You just wanted something that flattered your body type and made you feel sexy. Apparently that was just a ridiculous request. This blouse was cute, but modest, with a ruched, fluted bunching of the fabric in the middle. The collar was low-cut to accent your breasts, but the sleeves were long, which was annoying. You were going dancing tonight with your boyfriend and his coworkers. You didn’t want to show off all of your body, by any means, but you wanted to look hot. Who could blame you? And it was also going to get hot, temperature-wise. Long sleeves just didn’t feel like the most pragmatic choice.

Sometimes you just gave up and went with the best option. And this blouse, that made you feel like you were going to a casual church event, not to a bar, was, unfortunately, the best option.

You inhaled sharply and shrugged your shoulders as you looked in the full-length mirror hooked on the back of the closet door. Your hair looked really cute - the two biggest pieces on either side in the front were braided and dangled in front of you, effectively bringing your hair out of your eyes but also provided something to give your hair a little pizzazz. Your makeup looked great - a simple, subtle smokey eye and glossy lips. Your black boots looked good, peeking out from your wide-legged jeans, which hugged your hips and, honestly, made your butt look really good.

It was just this stupid shirt. And maybe you were getting too much in your head about it. But you were transfixed on it, hating the way the sleeves bunched up a little, how the bottom half flowed beneath the ruched fabric, effectively covering your stomach, meeting your jeans and the top of your thighs. The color was too muted for a going-out top - you wished you could wear something more exciting.

You sometimes wished you looked like Emily or JJ, or had the self-confidence to rock loud looks like Penelope did. But then you remembered that you were who you were for a reason. You looked like you simply because that was what you looked like. And there was no point in wishing you looked like someone else.

Plus, Spencer was really into your body. He was nearly always staring at your breasts when you were in private, sometimes to the point where you had to snap your fingers in front of his eyes to garner his attention.

It was flattering. You didn’t mind it if your boyfriend objectified you a little bit. He was respectful about it.

“Y/N, are you about ready?” Spencer walked into your bedroom as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes met Spencer’s and you saw his neutral expression turn into a full-fledged grin, biting his tongue and all. “You look really nice,” he said, and you shook your head.

“I look like a chaperone at a middle school dance,” you frowned, tugging at the fabric of your blouse in some illogical attempt to make it look different.

“What?” Spencer stood behind you in the mirror. His chin basically met the top of your head, like too puzzle pieces. One hand rested on your hip, while the other slowly brushed your hair to one side so he could press a kiss to your neck. “I think you look great,” he added.

You immediately felt tingly and your knees wobbled at the action. “But I’m not dressing for you,” you said, your voice instinctively dropping as Spencer’s lips trailed down your neck. You were having trouble concentrating on what you were trying to say. “I’m dressing for me, and I want to look cute. I can’t believe you’re even going tonight. You don’t dance, Spencer,” you pointed out, your self-control somehow beating out your desire for Spencer in the moment. You broke away from him and turned around to face him.

“You do look cute, Y/N. I don’t understand what the issue is?” Spencer’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at you. “Also, I’m going out tonight because you want to. And I’m trying to keep an open mind. I might enjoy it.”

You were proud of him. When you started dating about six months ago, he would have simply politely declined an invitation to a night out. And while you didn’t love going out every night, or even every weekend, for that matter, you did enjoy a night out occasionally.

Regardless, he still didn’t quite understand what you were feeling about that damn shirt. “The issue,” you began, heaving a sigh, “is that I’m insecure about my body. Like any woman. You don’t get it, because you’re a man, and you literally have nothing to be insecure about.”

You knew the words were incorrect the moment you said them, but something kept you from backpedaling. You watched as Spencer shook his head, letting a small laugh escape him. “You could not be further from the truth,” Spencer pointed out, and you knew he was right. Men had plenty to be insecure about, and it was, in some ways, even more difficult for men to express those feelings.

“Well, I think you’re perfect,” You let a small, playful smile creep onto your face, and Spencer rolled his eyes as you used his own tactic from earlier. He stepped towards you and his hands found your waist, contouring to match your curves. He knew them so well now, he could probably draw a map of your body with his eyes closed.

“I appreciate that,” Spencer said, his voice a little softer as your eyes met his. His head dipped down, and you thought, certainly, that he was going to kiss you, but instead, his lips stopped just barely by your ears. You could feel his breath on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as he spoke. “You might be insecure, Y/N, but I am, too. You’re just human.”

“What are you insecure about?” You found yourself asking, pulling your head back to look at him properly. Now you were curious.

“My hands, mostly,” Spencer removed his hands from your waist, holding them palm-up, as if to present them to you for the first time.

“What’s wrong with your hands?” You asked, placing your palms atop his.

“They’re really big,” Spencer said timidly, and, admittedly, they were. But just by comparison. Your hands fit into his with plenty of extra space. You used your index fingers to trace his palms.

“They’re not too big,” you told him, and Spencer just smiled down at you, shaking his head, like he was just humoring you. “I love your hands,” you continued. “I love that you can put your palm over an entire half of my face,” you said, guiding his palm to your cheek and grinning when his skin touched yours. Spencer’s thumb brushed your cheekbone.

“And I love your body,” Spencer replied, and you just pursed your lips and shook your head. “No, Y/N, listen to me.”

You let out a frustrated little exhale through your nose and let him continue.

“I love the way you look. But I wouldn’t care if you were any bigger or any smaller. Because I love you. I’m attracted to you, to your mind, to your sense of compassion, and to your body. I love the way your hips fill out your jeans, how your stomach looks in your yoga pants,” he said. “I love the way you wiggle your toes when we’re watching something funny on TV, how you do a little shimmy in your seat when you’re eating something you really enjoy,” he explained, mimicking the movement. You looped your arms around his neck. “But mostly, I’m in love with your personality. How you challenge me, how you seem to bring out the best version of myself.”

You let out a wistful sigh. If this were a Jane Austen novel, you would have swooned. But instead, you used your grip around his neck to bring his face down to yours and kiss him. It was slow at first, then a little more intense, and when you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against his.

“You ready to go now?” Spencer asked, and when your eyes opened, you saw that he was smiling down at you.

You shook your head, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “Not yet,” you said, your hands sliding down his arms until your palms met his. You tugged him in the direction of your bed. “I want to show you how much I love these big hands.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spence reid x plussize!reader #plus size reader #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi

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rheya28 · 1 year ago

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Sol School of Fashion ♥ The Sims 4: Build // CC

Sol School of Fashion "SOF" is a well known fashion studio/school located in Del Sol Valley. SOF is a space that encourages boldness, creativity, and innovation. Sims can have access to a café, photo studios, a classroom, a meeting room, a lounge, as well as a customizable runway with a backstage dressing room that consist of all the fashion necessities needed to produce a professional fashion show event.

➽ Speed Build Video

➽ Rheya's Notes:

♥ Hi guys, today I present to you SOL School of Fashion "SOF". This build/project is extremely special as I collaborated with the lovely and talented @farfallasims who kindly curated all the looks for the 2023 SOF Fashion Show Event Looks Curated by: @farfallasims [ Look Book Link ] 25:23

➽ Important Notes:

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ Lot Details

Lot Name: Sol School of Fashion Lot type: Generic lot type or Cafe Lot size: 40x30 Location: Starlight Boulevard, Del Sol Valley

➽ Mods:

TOOL MOD by TwistedMexi

♥ CC LIST:

Awingedllama : Boho Living, nostalgia living

Greenllama: The woodwind collection

Novvas: Holz Kitchen

Qicc: Sleep Hallway, Urban Bedroom

S-imagination: Nota

Sooky: Abstract framed posters -wooden frame

Sooky: Bon ton n1 ceiling lamp - Tall

Syboubou: Daguerre Reica Camera, Ballet mirror , fency

The Clutter Cat: Dandy Diary, Mellow moods

Aira : Artist in me

Anye: Zara Bathroom

ATS4: pot 4, pot 13, plant 16 Crafting room: dressform blouse, dressform male, dressform suit, folded fabrics, jar, paperstack, patterns, sewing machine

Harrie: Bafroom, brownstone, kichen

House of Harlix: Baysic, harluxe, brutalist, coastal, kwatei, octave, shop the look 2, spoons, Jardane, Livin Rum, Orjanic, tiny twavellers

Felix Andre: Berlin, Chateau, fayun, colonial, grove, kyoto, paris, shop the look

Brainstrip: my corner cc pack desk only

Charlypancakes: Munch, the lighthouse collection, miscellanea, modish, smol

Leori: Hipster loft

Illogical Sims: Home office

Kaiso: rustico living

Kate Emerald: Blissful baby Ottoman

Kiwisims4: Blockhouse hallway, Blockhouse Dining

Leaf Motif: Devon kitchen

Little Dica: Country side Cabin, Rise & Grind, sleek slumber

Madame Ria: Back to basics paint wall, Limber lumber

Madlen: Hiru misc set

Rusticsims: Mayaken, Modular life

Myls: Simple Clothes rack nordic

Mxims: LG

Myshunosun: Sol kitchen, Arrie Office, Gale dining, Lottie, Macaron kitchen, herbalist kitchen, tranquil bedroom

Peacemaker: Alesund, Hudson, Kitayama, Terra tiles horizontal/vertical, Vera Office

Pierisim: Coldbrew, David Apartment, Domain Du clos, MCM, Oak house, Tilable, unfold, Winter Garden

max20/maxsus: Poolside lounge pack

Sforzinda: Func EP02 Espressogrindomatic, espressoimpresso, cabin slats

sims4luxury: Mcgee&co Callhan rug

Sixam: Artz Living room, small spaces work from home, hotel bedroom, kessler kitchen, stylist wood livingroom, teen room

TaurusDesign: Eliza Bedroom, Elsa kids room

mycupofcc: Modernist

Tuds: 2ndWave, beam, cave, cross, wave

● DOWNLOAD Tray File and CC list: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: anrheya [previous name: applez] ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Youtube: Rheya28__

#sims 4 #thesims4 #ts4 #sims #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 cc #thesims #sims 4 builds #ts4 build #builds #build

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authorhjk1 · 5 months ago

Note

Possible prequel to the yuju bronze?

https://youtu.be/u1mBqgU8q4g

Grey

(Yuju X Male Reader)

Your watch says 4 am. It's way too late to be working. Why does your current client have to be in a different timezone? You just finished your video call and are about to head out.

The first hint of the morning light starts to appear on the horizon. You haven't slept since last night. On one hand, you just want to fall asleep, right where you stand. On the other hand...

Your client looked way too good. The young woman had an almost see through white blouse on and a black lace bra. Throughout the entirety of the last two hours, you involuntarily got hornier and hornier.

But who would still be up at this time? Or who has just woken up? Probably no one.

As you walk to your car, you remember that you have more than enough videos on your computer. But why look at videos, when you can feel the real thing? You think it over for a moment. Your need for pleasure finally outweighs your sense for empathy.

After a twenty minute drive, you pull into an underground parking lot. It's not the building you're living in and you're not used to the layout of the structure. You get lost once, before you finally find the elevator. Sixth floor, here we go.

Once you're there, you type in the code for her door lock. You close the door behind you and walk through her living room. Another door leads to her bedroom. This one is cracked open. You push it open all the way, revealing the sleeping idol.

Yuju is sprawled out on the large bed. She must've kicked the covers off herself throughout the night. You can see she is wearing a night gown. A grey one. The flower patterns on it and her messed up hair makes her look cute. You lean down to cup her cheek.

Yuju moves a little. Your hand moves from her cheek to one of her breasts, squeezing it. It makes Yuju flinch.

"Wake up."

You whisper into her ear with the softest voice you can muster.

"Hmm?"

Yuju's eyelids flutter open and she looks up at you.

"W-What time is it?"

Her sleepy voice sounds as adorable as she looks. You would've loved to cuddle with her at any other moment. But now, her cuteness only enhances your desire to use her for your own good.

"4:30."

"Mmm!"

Yuju groans in disappointment.

"Be quick."

You see her eyes close again and you slowly roll her over so she lies on her back.

"You're an angel, Yuju."

You kiss her lips as they form into a smile.

"Thank you."

She sighs, still not fully awake.

You quickly rid yourself off your pants, before reaching for the lube inside her nightstand. You usually don't need it. But this isn't the first time you've woken up Yuju in the middle of the night. She made sure she is always ready, in case you have midnight cravings.

Your cock is quickly covered in lube, already hard because of the woman lying in front of you. Quickly pushing her gown up, you reveal Yuju's cleanly shaven pussy.

You hear her whimper as you push inside of her. She is only half awake and yet you are already inside of her. She slowly rubs her eyes as you start thrusting.

"What a way to wake up."

She moans as you hold onto her thighs, driving yourself deeper.

"Good girl."

You praise her as you bottom out inside of her.

"Taking my cock first thing in the morning."

"Morn-Morning?"

Yuju sighs as you slowly fuck her. Your thrusts aren't hard or fast. You're tired too.

"It's the middle of the night."

"But your pussy feels as good as always."

"Oh gosh."

Yuju's weak and sleepy sigh makes you shiver. It turns you on to know, that she loves you so much, she takes your cock at any time, without you having to even ask for it.

"Damn, Yuju."

Your forehead has sunk down on hers. The two of you have your eyes closed as you enjoy the first rays of the sun.

The lube only helped you to start fucking her. By now, her juices take over. You feel her getting wetter, how your strokes become more smooth. There is less friction now.

Your thrusts automatically become faster.

"P-Please. A little slower."

You reduce your speed, willingly acknowledging her state. Yuju is not there yet to take your full pounding. But she is more than able to take your shallow thrusts.

Her pussy squeezes and hugs your cock. You feel yourself growing tired. Even more than you already are.

"I'm never leaving your pussy ever again."

A promise that makes Yuju smile. A promise you'd love to keep. A promise you made too often already.

With a low grunt, you finally finish inside of her. Yuju moans into your ear since your head has sunk next to hers, onto the mattress. You fill her up to the brim. Your seed painting her walls.

You feel yourself drifting off. Yuju closes her eyes too. You're still deep inside of her, her pussy keeping you warm. She rests a hand on the back of your head, slightly stroking you to sleep.

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #gfriend smut #gfriend yuju #gfriend #yuju

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sultrydxrling · 3 months ago

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Expanding on an idea I had, I'll link the post :3

(MULTIMONSTER/GLORYHOLE/AFAB/FTM/ANY BODY TYPE/WERE-TIGER/ORC)

(3.8k words)

(CNC/FREE-USE/MONSTERKINK/GLORYHOLE/ANAL/ORAL/VAGANAL)

SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM TO SEE THE REFERENCES OF THE CREATURES!<3

(Heads up, pink text is just for unassorted side characters, they might make an appearance in future parts of the fic, and might have their own colors then.)

You walk into the facility excitedly. You had passed the screening, background check, drug test, lab work, and numerous other loops to fill the position you had applied for. You knew it was a sex-working job, but didn't have much more information than that, which you didn't mind.

You walked up to the front desk with your paperwork to greet the busty woman sitting there, her bright green eyes darting up at you from beneath her bangs. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders and the coils, along with her breasts bounced lightly as she moved. A flush of red swam across your cheeks and you tried to avert your gaze, pushing your view back up to her eyes.

"Hello!, I'm (y/n)! I'm here to see-", By the time you'd gotten past your name, she'd already found you on the list.

"Ah! (y/n), Spelled like this right?", She showed you the clipboard and smiled, pointing to your name with a pen. You nodded and returned her cheery expression.

"Yep! That's me!", She nodded and stood, you could now see her red, partially unbuttoned blouse and tight, black, knee-length skirt. As your eyes traveled down her body, they fell on her lovely bright red heels. All of these colors complemented her Olive skin delightfully, so much so that it was very difficult not to stare.

"Come on, hun. Follow me.", I wandered closely behind her and she led me into a large warehouse-type hallway, with many different doors leading into different hallways or rooms. We walked down the hallway and into a blue door on the left. She scanned her keycard and the door buzzed open.

"Once you've been here for a couple of days and decide that you'd like to continue, we will give you a keycard. Until then, I will come let you in."

The door opened into a large waiting area, The flooring was a beautiful dark wood, leading up to the furniture. All of the furniture was luxurious, the arms swirling elegantly. The couches and chairs were a red fabric with black flowers strewn across them, little whisps of swirls against the flower pattern. There was a Traditional Gold Damask on Bright Red Wallpaper lining the walls, all the way to a front desk with another woman with red hair and blue eyes looking up from her paperwork through her glasses.

"Oh! Is this the new hire? They're gorgeous!"

"Yes isn't he? I just know the clientele is going to love him. Alright, Cassandra, I'm going to take him back. Don't send in anyone too rough until his third day please."

She smiled and Cassandra nodded, "Of course Andromeda. As always."

She returned to her paperwork and the dark-haired woman led me into a room with an "Employees only" Sign.

"Alright, and If you just strip down, You'll be led to your room for the night. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, would you prefer human clients or monsters-", You'd almost forgotten monsters would be an option, but you felt your heart race at the idea. You'd never been with a monster before and the very thought put slick between your thighs.

"Monsters- please.", You said politely. She nodded and left you in the room by yourself. You looked into the body-length mirror as you undressed, hearing Cassandra's words in your head, calling you gorgeous. You were feeling super confident.

You heard a soft rap on your door, "May I come in, (y/n)?"

"Yes, I'm ready...", You bashfully covered yourself but only slightly. Andromeda smiled at you and gave you a soft look up and down.

"You look beautiful, come with me this way to your room.", You nodded and walked slowly behind her as she opened the door and led you down the red hallway, Along the wall, there were dark, red cushioned lifts that hung about 3 feet above the ground. The same wallpaper as the waiting room shines softly in the dim lighting. The woman opened a door with her keycard, another "Employees only" sign hanging from it.

As you entered, the hallway wrapped around as if to mirror the one you were just in, full of box-like rooms that were slightly elevated. She opened one of the secure doors, as you looked inside, the room was filled with that same, cushioned material, a pillow built into a table in the middle, and a red button hung next to the door.

"I'm going to open the door and you will put your rear end and your knees on the other side of the wall. It will secure your hips in place, and you will put your abdomen on this table. when your lower half is secured, this wall will open a small hole in front of you and the table will adjust you fowars slightly, or this wall will get closer to you."

You tried to keep up with what she was saying as you looked all over the room, figuring out how the mechanisms functioned so well. There must've been a lot of science, engineering, and thought put into these rooms. Andromeda scanned her card on the button pad, which helped adjust the walls and seating.

Once your hips were through the wall, and your knees were comfortable; you adjusted the closeness of the wall, and a hole opened up. The hole was right up next to your mouth and you couldn't help but daydream. Just thinking about the randomly colored cocks that would be in your face, how they might taste, and how thick they might be. More slick dripped down your thigh and you prayed no one would notice.

"Alright, are you comfortable?"

"Yes, Ma'am", She looked over her clipboard at how you addressed her as she checked off boxes, you almost wished she would play with you herself, now shamelessly staring at her chest, or at least what you could see under her clipboard.

"Would you like an aphrodisiac?", You looked at her confused and blushed.

"What- is that?", Andromeda put her clipboard to her hip and smiled,

"It's a drug, more spasifically a gass for us as a compsany, that makes you feel extra- in the mood."

She winked and chuckled. You nodded and looked down shamefully, "Yes please-"

"Alright hun, I'll be sure to set you up before we open. I'm going to ho around to the other side and make sure your legs are as open as they need to be, Ill close the wall once you're adjusted and we'll help all the other girls in. While you're waiting well hit you with the drugs okay?"

"Mhm"

You answered softly and let yourself relax, resting your arms on the rectangular table, your back arching softly as you adjusted. You were happy to find there was another armrest and a small lift button for the table. You messed with it, raising the table slightly and lowering it. You rested your arms on the wall, armrest, practicing how you would suck on the monsters that offered their cocks to you. Andromeda could be heard behind you,

"Oh, my~", she giggled softly as she examined you.

"Someone's exited huh? Alright, do you mind if I touch your legs and thighs? Make you look presentable?"

"No, I dont mind."

She hummed softly as her soft hands wrapped around your calves, pulling your legs carefully apart and gently spreading your pussy lips but making sure not to touch your aching hole. You wished she would, you imagined her acrylics gently rubbing at your insides, her fingertips rubbing your G-spot. You gasped softly when you felt her spread you, and she heard.

"Alright, you're all set up and look monster-ready", She chuckled and made her way back to the front hallway.

"Ok sweety, I'm going to close the holes around you and obviously the one in front of you will just close. The room will fill with a light gass, but it shouldn't feel suffocating. If it does, or anything hurts or goes wrong, press that red button to your left. Am I understood?"

You nodded and looked into her bright green eyes. You wanted to make her proud and prove you deserved to stay and that you could do the best at your job. Maybe you'd get a reward for doing well.

The hole closed and the wall behind you clenched tightly around your hips. This made you feel secure and the squeeze made you feel secure. A robotic voice sounded in a speaker,

"Is your waist secured too tightly?", I sat there for a moment and I answered out loud not sure what else I could do.

"No."

"Good. Prepare for Aphrodisiac.", As the voice went silent, you heard a soft hissing, and quiet music began to play. You took a few purposeful deep breaths as you let your mind wander to the various creatures that might violate you.

You hadn't realized how much time had gone by and soon the hole in front of you opened up and the hole around your hip loosened slightly. You could hear talking behind you, a deep gruff voice sounding out.

"Good- gods... Look at this one-", Another voice soon to follow.

"Damn, I wonder how good his mouth is...(y/n) huh? Cute name. I'll take the mouth first then we can swap out."

You looked down to see the drool pooled against your chin and your face flushed in embarrassment. You sat upright, trying to ready yourself for the fun.

"Ooh. You're really exited for this huh?", A harsh slap fell across your ass, causing you to moan out. The creature laughed and you felt a pointed tip against your sloppy hole.

Soon a thick, green cock was pushed through the hole in front of you, the pre-cum-covered tip pressed lightly against your cheek. The feeling of it was amazing, the drugs filling your head with so much glee. You rested your weight on your elbows and took hold of; what you were assuming was an orc's cock with both hands and rubbed the leaking, pink-tinted tip all over your face.

A soft groan could be heard from the other side of the wall and the creature began to thrust into the hole and against your face.

"Fuuck yes.. god whatever you're doing, pretty boy- keep going-", This excited you, and you happily obliged, and began to softly kiss against his soft tip. You smeared his leaking cum against your lips like salty lipgloss.

The animal behind you thrusted into your cunt roughly, causing you to pull the Orc just into your lips and moan out around him.

"Mmm!", You pushed your hips back against the man behind you.

"Very eager arent you, Sweetheart... I'm going to make you into a delightful little cum-mutt.", he growled as he began to push his hips forward into you, filling you and letting your walls stretch around him, all the way down to his inflating knot.

You were praying it was a Were-Tiger, you loved how handsome they were, their enticing colors, a Lion, or maybe a panther- the daydreams swam around in your head as you began to throat the Orc without much thought, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip.

"Oh my god, that's so fucking good- yes- Good boy. I might become a regular if you keep this up...", this was encouragement, and you began to suck him into your throat deeper, bobbing your head faster.

You felt a set of claws sink into your hips deeply, but not breaking skin as the creature behind you pounded into you and pressed his knot as hard as he could against you. It was obvious how much he wanted to force it in.

The hole in front of you was big enough to fit the orc's balls through and you used one hand to steady his cock in your mouth, the other reaching down to fondle and squeeze them teasingly. Another soft hissing noise filled the space next to you and a little of the gas spilled out of the holes, encouraging the monsters to be more aggressive with you.

Your holes were getting violently fucked from both ends now and you could feel their lengths pulsing and throbbing against your walls and esophagus. You moaned loudly over the orc's cock, the vibrations sending him into a thrusting frenzy as he forced himself as deeply into your mouth as he could, cum filling your throat quicker than you could swallow, the warmth flooding your chest as you tried not to gag and choke.

Soon after, you felt the man behind you shove his knot into you as he came, his sharp tip pressing against your sensitive cervix. You squirted against him and pressed back against him, trying to ride out your orgasm on his knot. As your pussy clenched and grabbed at his cock, he made sure to grind with you, milking himself as much as he could. The orc pulled out of the hole in front of you and you could hear his heavy breathing as he leaned on the wall.

"Oh my- fuck that was so good.."

You moaned even louder, now that your mouth wasn't full as the man began to fuck you with his knot, popping it in and out as he continued to drain himself. He pulled out and groped your ass affectionately. You happily spaced out and arched your back, laying down and breathing for a moment. After about two minutes you felt a set of two giant fingers rub up and down your pussy and asshole.

The orc was using both you and the man's juices to lubricate both of your holes. You pushed your hips back against his fingers needily.

"Hold on sweet boy. I'll be inside of you soon.", This made you let out a soft pathetic whine, and then a thick, red, textured cock entered the hole in front of you. You immediately wrapped your mouth and hand around him excitedly, circling your tongue around his length.

A roar sounded from the other side, and he immediately began to fuck your mouth, which you were practically begging for. One of the orc's fingers slipped into your pussy, filling it even more than the other creature's cock did.

You drooled more around the man's length and rubbed him vigorously as you finally got to see the knot that filled you. You reached up with your free hand and treated him as you did the orc, massaging his knot and squeezing it tightly.

The orc pushed his fingers into you, into both stretching your holes. He eased them into you and your walls clenched hungrily around them. He chuckled and removed his finger from your pussy, keeping one in your virgin asshole. He moved his finger gently in and out and you could feel his tip against your cunt. The idea of his pretty tip against you made you clench more, just to squeeze out any of your slicks that you could. You'd spend all day sucking it if you could.

"Good boy~ Keep up like that and I'm going to cum down your delicious- feeling throat. God yes- right there-", The man in front of you cooed at you and you moaned around his tip louder as the orc entered you. You swirled your tongue aggressively around his tip and flicked your tongue over the small crease and hole.

His hips spasmed, forcing his cock into your mouth as his throbbing cock spewed warm, sticky cum into your mouth. You pushed your head forward to get the rest of him into your mouth, even trying to fit his knot into your mouth. You felt like your jaw was going to unhinge, but were almost excited to suck on it.

"Ugh- F-God!!", He milked himself into your mouth and tried to help shove himself into your hungry jaws, almost getting off to the feeling of your teeth scraping against his large knot.

The orc pushed himself into you deeply, enough to tease himself by rubbing against the hole of your cervix.

"Mmm, you're so tight-", He chuckled deeply and pulled his finger out of your ass and took your hips into his hands, gripping you securely as he began to thrust in and out.

The man in front of you pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to gasp and cough softly. You wiped your mouth and giggled dazedly, happily arching your back for the monster behind you.

It wasn't long before he couldn't help himself and began to greedily move faster. A soft tapping could be heard as his balls slapped softly against your clit, providing extra stimulation for yourself. You moaned loudly and cursed softly.

You began to grope your tits, pinching at your nipples with one hand and ducking on your fingers with the other, missing the feeling of something in your mouth. Your tongue felt lonely, but your pussy was being very well taken care of. The orc was shaped so wonderfully, his cock was slightly thicker in the middle, rubbing every single weak spot you had. You wanted to hold in your orgasm for as long as possible but were not successful, squirting against him and pushing your hips back into him to encourage your orgasm.

He happily moved his hips slower, guiding you through the rest of your orgasm. After you'd finished, he pulled out of you and pressed himself against you asshole.

"Now, I get to treat you like a real boy-", He laughed and pushed himself roughly into your ass and moved aggressively. The orc was needy for your tightness, huffing and grunting like an animal as he took you. You could feel his big hands wrapping around your whole waist as he used you like a fleshlight.

A heavy fog settled over you as you lay down against the table, happily just trying to relax your body for the other. You could hear the other creature talking to the orc behind you.

"God he looks so good when he's full, and his pussy is leaking cum.", The orc laughed as he thrusted.

"Isn't he? and his ass is so fucking tight- I can't get enough. We'll- UIgh- definitely have to come back-", The orc leaned forward and rested some of his weight against your back, you could feel the warmth and sweat on his chest. Your whines and whimpers subsided to quiet breaths of foggy salvation.

"We should request a private room with him, if he ended up a perma-hire." You could sense the other monster's eyes on you. You imagined him looking down at you like a steak and drooling against the soft fabric beneath you.

"God- I'm so close-", The orc grunted as he drove himself as hard as he could into you, groaning and laughing as he fucked you into a happy stupor. You felt a hot liquid burst into you and you screamed out, your tongue hanging out like a dog.

He panted and held himself inside of you for a moment before carefully pulling out. They both laughed softly and ran their hands and paws over your thighs and waist.

"You did so good for us pretty boy, we'll be back to see you again if we can. Maybe we'll have the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous face. It has to be as beautiful as your body."

They both gave your ass a good slap before you heard them leave. After a moment, you heard mechanisms wiring and the door around your hips was opened as well as the door in front of you. Your eyes drifted up to see the busty secretary who led you back here.

"Hiii Andromedaaa...", You slurred softly and giggled, absolutely fucked out of your mind. She smiled down at you and moved the hair out of your face.

"Did you have fun darling?", Her voice was soft and she held her clipboard up with her pen ready.

"It was very wonderful, I had so much fun.", She nodded and wrote something down.

"Mhm. Did they treat you well?", Her eyes didn't leave her paper.

"Yes, Ma'am.", She once more wrote something down and helped you out of the machine after tucking the clipboard under her arm. You smiled and wobbled slightly.

"Would you like some help? We have some really strong staff who can hold you up or carry you to your room to rest.", You nodded and looked around, trying to find something for you to steady yourself. Andromeda pulled a small walkie-talkie from her pocket and spoke into it.

"Hey, Can you send a carrier here, to hall 3-A please?", Within mere moments, a woman walked into the hall, she must've been at least 5ft 11'. You gawked at her, she was built very strongly, her breasts blending with muscle.

"Hello, I'll be your Carrior for the night. May I?", She smiled and opened her arms, taking a step closer. You nodded and replied softly. She had a soft Southern accent that made me swoon.

"Mhm- Please-", You reached out for her and did your best to stumble over to her. She picked you up carefully, bridal style. You looked up and studied her features. She had Darker skin than Andromeda's olive tint, a delightful, deep caramel color. Her hair was up in a ponytail or a messy bun, you couldn't tell very well. It looked to be a box dyed red but over her already dark hair.

She carried you to the room you had undressed in and into a side room you hadn't noticed. It was a bathroom with a luxurious bath and she gently laid you in it.

"Would you like me to turn on the water for you?", Her face tinted slightly darker as she looked you over.

"Yes please", You smiled up at her, blushing as well. She turned the water on to a nice hot temperature used a small picture and filled it with warm water, gently rinsing you off. The bath was then plugged and she pulled another pitcher off of the counter that was full of a creme-colored liquid and what looked like flower petals.

"If you dont mind my sayin' so- you look very pretty, uhm-", She gingerly poured the milk bath mixture into the water and over your body.

"(Y/N)", You added and giggled at her bashfullness.

"Got it. Well, I'm gonna let you clean up alright? Sure you can manage?", She stood, folding her arms in front of her like a bouncer at a club.

"Yes, I think I'll be alright.", You giggled more and smiled big. She nodded and opened the door to leave.

"You just uh- Let me know if you need me alright?"

"Alright.", You watched as she left and waited until hearing the second door to your room close before squealing happily, the night had gone amazingly and you'd been carried back to your room by the most attractive woman you thought you'd ever seen. You'd definitely be staying.

(Not my art, found on google :3)

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violetrainbow412-blog · 2 months ago

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Day 19: yarn

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Upon arriving at the building, the first thing Spencer encountered was a figure skillfully moving their hands, sitting in a lotus position, hunched over the sofa in the common area of the apartments.

The man was renting that apartment. Most of those who rented in that place were young people, some studying at university and others simply too comfortable to find something better. You, however, did not fall into either of those categories.

You were the niece of the elderly landlord and apparently lived with her after some unpleasant family situations. That’s why you were usually around, and seeing you knit had become a habit of his.

“Hello”

“Hi, Spencer! How have you been?” you asked, with a cheerful expression on your face. You weren’t wearing shoes, and there was a basket with a bunch of yarn on the floor, from which you were probably taking for whatever garment you were making.

“Good, a bit… busy, but everything has been fine.”

“I heard that the other day you helped my aunt with some plumbing work that needed doing. I didn’t know you had that kind of knowledge.”

“It was something very basic, nothing out of this world,” he murmured, trying to be modest. “What are you knitting?”

Spencer wasn’t used to talking much with the other tenants, perhaps out of shyness or perhaps because he didn’t want to interact with people in general. But with you, it was different; you always seemed interested in what he said and often showed yourself to be friendly. That’s why he didn’t mind sitting on the other sofa for a while.

“A blouse; I have a rough idea…” you carefully pulled out a simple handmade drawing from the basket and held it out to him. “I still don’t know if those will be the colors; I’m deciding.”

“How do you have so much time to do that?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“Knitting isn’t that hard once you get used to it. It’s all about following patterns, and before you know it, you have something solid to wear.”

You carefully approached him and developed quite an informative chat about the types of stitches, needles, yarn, colors, thickness… you were quite the expert on the subject.

He didn’t know there was so much to know to carry out such an activity, and suddenly, he felt a certain admiration for your work. He was known for his clumsiness when it came to motor skills, so conceiving the idea of being able to do that was something extremely strange for him.

Suddenly, you took out your phone to show him some other pieces you had made: sweaters, blouses, scarves, mittens, hats, dresses…

“Have you ever considered selling your work? They’re beautiful.”

“Oh, no. It’s too personal, you know? That’s why I only knit for myself, my family, and friends.”

“Well, you’re very skilled, to be honest. If you made custom pieces, I’d definitely buy one.”

“What do you like most?” you asked excitedly, moving closer to him “Sweaters? Vests? A scarf, maybe?”

“No! You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. It was just an idea. Don’t worry about it,” he murmured immediately, trying to dismiss the thought from your mind.

However, you were already plotting a plan. You knew from your aunt that his birthday was coming soon, and you thought: what could be better than giving him something?

Although you pretended to let the matter pass, you continued seriously considering what would be the most suitable gift to knit for your friend. Because you were friends, right? You hoped so.

You both continued talking about trivialities after that, and you continued with your work as the conversation flowed. You clearly knew he couldn’t stay with you all afternoon, so when he told you he had to leave to fulfill other obligations, you thanked him for the time he had given you.

From that day on, you kept mulling over the idea of what could be the ideal gift for your aunt’s tenant. For several days, you tried to come up with a pattern, something good enough that would match his personality until you finally hit upon it. You were going to make him a collection of gifts, in fact, simply for the excitement of having someone admire your work so much. Besides, he had suggested it, and of course, you were going to stick to your rule: you only knitted for yourself, family, and friends.

Spencer went weeks without seeing you. He felt somewhat worried about your absence but assumed you were busy with your own life, not daring to ask your landlord about your whereabouts. Sometimes he saw the light in your room late at night and wondered what you might be doing, but he would never commit the imprudence of knocking on your door to look for you. That would be inappropriate because, while you weren’t a child or anything, he was a couple of years older than you, and the idea of someone getting the wrong impression worried him greatly.

He couldn’t see you on his birthday, and he didn’t expect you to know (he hadn’t told anyone in the building, as far as he remembered), but he thought it would have been nice to have your company.

It wasn’t until a week later that Spencer had a clue about you when a note with something he recognized as your handwriting slid under his door.

Come to the living room :)

He was confused by the invitation, which was very unconventional, so he prepared to go where you were asking him. Once there, he was surprised to find you with a huge smile, a piece of cake with a lit candle, and a large box on the coffee table.

“Surprise!”

“How do you know?” he asked, slightly confused but also touched by the show of affection.

“I know it was last week, but your gift wasn’t ready yet, and you weren’t here for your cases, and… well, you know. It’s late, but I hope you like it. Come on! Come, sit down.”

You offered him the plate with the piece of dessert, and he happily blew out the small candle burning on it. After applauding that, you patted the box in front of him and brought it closer.

“Did you buy me a gift?” he asked kindly as he sat down next to you.

The box was nothing more than a cardboard box, with no decoration or flashy papers. It was just a plain, brown, large box.

“Open it and find out.”

You looked anxious for him to see the contents, and he had no heart to refuse your excitement. When he opened it, however, he was surprised by something greater than he expected.

Inside were only knitted items: some strange-colored squares (which he would ask you about) and underneath what seemed to be a beautiful brown cardigan with a beige trim and another shade of brown. When he took it out, he was completely moved by the beauty of the garment and smiled widely when he felt the softness of the yarn.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to say.”

“I also made you some covers for your books, or your planner, or any notebook you want,” you exclaimed excitedly. Oh, so that’s what the squares were for “Try it on! Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he finally said, genuinely excited. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I told you, I only knit for people I care about.”

Spencer felt extremely honored by the distinction, and for a second, he also felt embarrassed. He didn’t know you considered him a friend at that level and wished he had something to give you too, even though it was his birthday.

He complied with your request and put the piece over his plaid shirt. It fit perfectly, was quite warm, and matched him very well. Suddenly, he didn’t know what to say, stunned by your attention toward him and your personal gift. You had spent weeks knitting that just for him.

“And there’s one more thing,” you pointed out with a smile, and he peered inside.

It was true; there was a pair of socks. But they weren’t ordinary socks; they were knitted in the same way and had a particularity that made him burst into laughter.

“They’re mismatched!”

“I know you wear them like that. So I thought you’d like them,” you murmured, smiling.

You looked so kind and lovely that Spencer couldn’t help but want to hug you, feeling grateful for what you had just gifted him.

“Let me pay you for your work.”

“Are you crazy?” you exclaimed, sounding offended. “It’s a gift, Spencer. Gifts aren’t for sale. Happy late birthday!”

He didn’t expect something like that from you, and just for that, he felt even happier. Throughout the winter season, he made sure to wear your cardigan as much as he could, proud to recount that you had knitted it every time someone complimented the design.

At some point during the winter, he realized that, both literally and figuratively, you had brought unparalleled warmth to his life. First with that cardigan, and of course, then with your friendship.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2024 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago

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Word List: Fashion History

to try to include in your poem/story (pt. 3/3)

Pelete Bite - a fabric created by the Kalabari Ijo peoples of the Niger Delta region by cutting threads out of imported cloth to create motifs

Pelisse - a woman’s long coat with long sleeves and a front opening, used throughout the 19th century; can also refer to men’s military jackets and women’s sleeved mantles

Peplos - a draped, outer garment made of a single piece of cloth that was worn by women in ancient Greece; loose-fitting and held up with pins at the shoulder, its top edge was folded over to create a flap and it was often worn belted

Pillow/Bobbin Lace - textile lace made by braiding and twisting thread on a pillow

Pinafore - a decorative, apron-like garment pinned to the front of dresses for both function and style

Poke Bonnet - a nineteenth-century women’s hat that featured a large brim which extended beyond the wearer’s face

Polonaise - a style of dress popular in the 1770s-80s, with a bodice cut all in one and often with the skirts looped up; it also came back into fashion during the 1870s

Pomander - a small metal ball filled with perfumed items worn in the 16th & 17th centuries to create a pleasant aroma

Poulaine - a shoe or boot with an extremely elongated, pointed toe, worn in the 14th and 15th centuries

Raffia Cloth - a type of textile woven from palm leaves and used for garments, bags and mats

Rebato - a large standing lace collar supported by wire, worn by both men and women in the late 16th and early 17th century

Robe à L’anglaise - the 18th-century robe à l’anglaise consisted of a fitted bodice cut in one piece with an overskirt that was often parted in front to reveal the petticoat

Robe à la Française - an elite 18th-century gown consisting of a decorative stomacher, petticoat, and two wide box pleats falling from shoulders to the floor

Robe en Chemise - a dress fashionable in the 1780s, constructed out of muslin with a straight cut gathered with a sash or drawstring

Robe Volante - a dress originating in 18th-century France which was pleated at the shoulder and hung loose down, worn over hoops

Roses / Rosettes - a decorative rose element usually found on shoes in the 17th century as fashion statement

Ruff - decorative removable pleated collar popular during the mid to late 16th and 17th century

Schenti - an ancient Egyptian wrap skirt worn by men

Shirtwaist - also known as waist; a woman’s blouse that resembles a man’s shirt

Skeleton Suit - late 18th & early 19th-century play wear for boys that consists of two pieces–a fitted jacket and trousers–that button together

Slashing - a decorative technique of cutting slits in the outer layer of a garment or accessory in order to expose the fabric underneath

Spanish Cape - an outer wrap often cut in a three-quarter circle originating from Spain

Spanish Farthingale - a skirt made with a series of hoops that widened toward the feet to create a triangular or conical silhouette, created in the late 15th century

Spencer Jacket - a short waist- or bust-length jacket worn in the late 18th and early 19th centuries

Stomacher - a decorated triangular-shaped panel that fills in the front opening of a women’s gown or bodice during the late 15th century to the late 18th century

Tablion - a rectangular panel, often ornamented with embroidery or jewels, attached to the front of a cloak; worn as a sign of status by Byzantine emperors and other important officials

Toga - the large draped garment of white, undyed cloth worn by Roman men as a sign of citizenship

Toga Picta - a type of toga worn by an elite few in Ancient Rome and the Byzantine Empire that was richly embroidered, patterned and dyed solid purple

Tricorne Hat - a 3-cornered hat with a standing brim, which was popular in 18th century

Tupu - a long pin used to secure a garment worn across the shoulders. It was typically worn by Andean women in South America

Vest/Waistcoat - a close-fitting inner garment, usually worn between jacket and shirt

Wampum - are shell beads strung together by American Indians to create images and patterns on accessories such as headbands and belts that can also be used as currency for trading

Wellington Boot - a popular and practical knee- or calf-length boot worn in the 19th century

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Fashion History ⚜ Word Lists

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redr0sewrites · 3 months ago

Note

HEY HEY HEY YOU LIKE GOTH TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR ALT SCENE HEAD CANONS

🥀A/n: AJSJSJSJSJSJSJSJSS YESS !!!! i could talk about this for hoursss ngl-

🥀all photos are from pinterest, credit to the original creators! i did not make these ♥️

Pandora Rosier:

in my head, i see her as like a lighter version of whimsigoth. definitely leaning more on the whimsical flowery fairy vibes heavier than the goth vibes, but still with alternative aspects! she definitely decorates her hair and braids with a TON of crystals and charms!!

purples and reds, flowy dresses, chunky rings, charm belts, layered crystal jewelry, cardigans, flowy sleeves, funky tights, etc

when it comes to music, she'd be a fan of The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Cocteau Twins, Kate Bush, and Strawberry Switchblade

Dorcas Meadows:

FAIRY/SOFT GRUNGE. HEAR ME OUTTTTT

a lot of forest greens and earthy tones, basically grunge with a bit of fairycore mixed in

lots of thrifted items, heavy earth tones, arm warmers, flower patterns, crystals, maxi skirts, doc martens + mary janes, dangly earrings, etc etc

when it comes to music, i think she'd listen to Kleenex, The Violent Femmes, Cheap Trick, Red Aunts, and The Raincoats

Barty Crouch Jr:

mix between metalhead punk and scene. like think punkrock mid 70's-early 80's crossed with early 2000's scene kid, and thats him

spikes, metal, leather, lots of oversized and ripped band shirts, stripes and heavy patterns, chains, chunky boots, fishnet/sheer tops, double statement belts, heavily dyed hair, liberty spikes, thin/mini brows and smudged eyeliner, etc

when it comes to music he is ALL over the place. think Nine Inch Nails, Rob Zombie, Paramore, Green Day, Soundgarden, Death Grips, etc. think like dad rock, but throw in a few early 2000's bands as well

sortaaa think like a cross between all these- finding a photo for him was SO hard lmfao neither of these r exactly whats in my head but close enough

Evan Rosier:

similar to Barty but less scene and more dad rock/metalhead and slightly toned down. definitely more earthy tones, less hot topic energy and more thrifted/handmade energy.

also wears a lot of jewelry and crystals in his hair, shares them w pandora!

not as many bright colors and patterns, heavy layers, earthy tones, cargo pants, converse, layered jewelry/crystals, chunky belts, statement baggy pants with decals, bleached shirts, torn aviator jackets, boots, bulky sweaters layered with band tees, etc

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to Nirvana, The Doors, Type O Negative, Specimen, and the Ramones

Regulus Black:

(twitching and convulsing he is my fav)

honestly i see him as either: victorian goth, or corporate goth

he either dresses like he's possessed by a small victorian child or ebeneazor scrooge and there is no in between

very masculine, lots of ruffles, detailed vests, cuffs and long sleeves, black trousers, heeled boots, loose flowy blouses, high collars, lots of grey, white, and black, long leather overcoats, heavy layers, rings, etc

finding photos for this was like a herculean task bro it was nearly impossible and this is about as close to what i see in my head as i could get but still... not perfect *sigh*

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to Veruca Salt, Talking Heads, Clan of Xymox (TRUST HE WOULD), Siouxsie and the Banshees, and Lebanon Hanover

Sirius Black:

i know everyone and their mother believes in punk Sirius, but hear me out- mall goth Sirius Black. PELPSLSPSLSPSLSPSLSS

i feel like he dresses both masculine and feminine a lot, his gender is very fluid and so are his outfits so he isn't strictly masculine or feminine

im thinking like early 2000's hot topic kid x mid/late 80's punk, definitely very mall goth inspired but a little more modern too

wide baggy pants with chains, chunky necklaces, mismatched earrings, skeleton gloves, leather jackets with studs and decals, sheer/fishnet tops, chunky boots and doc martens, chunky rings and bracelets, bracelets with studs/spikes, kandi or beads, trashy band or skater tees, thrifted cargo pants with patches, those specific red and black striped gloves/arm warmers that every mall goth person has, etc

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to The White Stripes, David Bowie, Bon Jovi, INXS, Meat Loaf, Three Days Grace, Green Day, and the Offspring

Remus Lupin:

grunge all the way. and i don't mean like tiktok grunge, i mean genuine early-mid 80's thrifted "fuck fast fashion" grunge. i also see him having a bit of the grunge/punk academia aesthetic, but overall very grunge centric style

in my head he doesn't wear a lot of jewelry, especially since silver burns him as a werewolf, so he'll wear the occasional ring or necklace but that's about it

grandpa sweaters, oversized hoodies, cargo pants, earthy tones, brown converse or loafers, faded band tees, jorts, greys and greens, collared shirts, chunky shoes, baggy trousers with patches, bleached clothing, aviator jackets, etc

when it comes to music i think he'd listen to David Bowie (duh), The Doors, Ramones, Talking Heads, Killing Joke, U2, Journey, INXS, Abba, The Calling, and Foo Fighters

Marlene Mckinnon:

RIOT GRRL. I KNOW IM RIGHT I KNOW IT I KNOW IT I WILL DEFEND THIS TILL THE DAY I DIE SHE IS SOOO RIOT GRRL

most of riotgrrl fashion is pretty much the more "feminine" version of punk, and shares some overlap with the "rockstar gf" aesthetic (which irritates me *just* a bit but thats a story for another time). in my head, i think of like a cross between misa amane, nana, and the mid-late 80's punk scene

think layered fishnets, leg warmers, micro mini skirts, lacy lingerie, graphic tank tops, feminist patches/pins, spikes and studs, lots of leather, chains, chunky boots, cross/pentagram motifs, bold animal prints, torn band tees, high heels, bright red lipstick, and basically anything that would serve as a great big "fuck you" to misogyny and beauty standards

i had the biggest riotgrrrl phase, so let me just say i am an EXPERT on the music. marlene would listen to Bikini Kill, Babes in Toyland, Veruca Salt, X Ray Spex, The Raincoats, Paramore, Kleenex, Hole, Dazey and the Scouts, Bratmobile, Slutever, Mommy Long Legs, Le Tigre, Destroy Boys, Cheap Perfume, and Lesbian Bed Death

Mary MacDonald:

GYARU!! i totally see Mary as a gyaru girlie, idk in my head i just see her rocking the makeup and lashes along w the style !!!

i sadly don't know too much about the Gyaru scene as there are many different types, but i did a little research and i feel like Mary would dress in the Ane Gyaru aesthetic- which is (PLEASE correct me if im wrong i am not an expert!!) an older, more "rebellious" and slightly darker version of Gyaru. Ane Gyaru is often mistaken with Onee Gyaru, but is different in a few ways. Ane is more rebellious and incorporates a darker color scheme, and overall has a more rough look. definitely more alternative than cutesy in comparison to other Gyaru styles, and i feel like it fits Mary well

think flashy animal prints, miniskirts, teased hair, long lashes, detailed hand bags, fluffy boots, furry leg warmers, silver jewelry, statement belts, lots of lace, leather and denim, and lots of makeup!

i genuinely do not know anythinggg about Gyaru music and i am sosoooosososos sorry 😭 if anyone has any ideas or recommendations for bands/gyaru music they think Mary would listen to, please lmk!!!

i will do a pt 2 so that i dont reach the photo limit but!!! hope u enjoyed!!!! PLSSS SEND IN MORE MARAUDERS ERA WRITING REQS YALL IVE BEEN OBSESSED- it could be x reader or just hcs like this whatever u want🧍

my two current hyperfixations in one post... someone sedate me...

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serial-killers-hope · 2 months ago

Note

Could you do a thing for ronin with a partner that’s transmasc but dresses really fem and feels really insecure and like they aren’t an actual guy because of how they present?

(totally not projecting shhhhhhh)

Ah, well. I’ve been planning this for quite awhile actually… well, I suppose you wouldn’t mind some of my work again. ~ DP

CW / TW :

- Gender Dysphoria

- Running / Intrusive Thoughts

- Anxiety

SPOILERS FOR KILLER CHAT

Enjoy.

Petticoats and Blood.

You stared at the coord you had made yourself for the next day. The mannequin sported your petticoat and purse for the next day. Dressing pretty and very nice was your forte after all. Even if it did garner unwanted criticism from so-called “normal” people. It made you happy to dress in frilly skirts, ruffled blouses, cute bonnets. The works for your average sweet style that everyone either loved or criticized ( for whatever reason… )and it made you question whatever was going on through their minds as well.

You hesitate for a second, hanging up the dress and putting away the jewelry for the night. Until your phone pings with a notification and ultimately throws off your insecure thoughts for the moment.

You pick up the phone, eyes narrowed as you stared at the text that the man you who had fallen for ( which you questioned why Ronin had put his name as “ Thy Divine Devil “ ) spammed your phone.

goreboy : darlin’

goreboy : come On. im bored and I want to see Your Pretty mug :)

You frown a bit, the word pretty sticking out like a sore thumb. In all honesty, you never bothered to correct him so how would he even know? All he knew was your identity change and your identity struggles. He’d help with the process, buying you your binder was a plus you didn’t know you needed and a man who knew how to inject testosterone to satisfy your euphoric needs?

Double whammy.

Ronin kept spamming, your frown evident as you shot him a text with a exasperated sigh.

[ User ] : What’s up? :)

You watched as his username popped up and slowly typed. Your impatience grew as you planted yourself down onto your bed with a quiet tap of your foot. Nose scrunched as your dysphoria feuded with your mentality. Hands gripping your phone as his message came through.

goreboy : can’t I just try to See You?

goreboy : But nahhhh, i’ll keep you updated when I see You :)

goreboy : i love you darlin’. keep Your Head up.

Your heart clenched as your throat tightened with a gentle tug of your vocal cords. Your voice didn’t even want to leave as you opened your mouth to say something into the random void of your goddamn room.

“Damn…”

You muster up the word, immediately jumping up to get dressed into some random clothes you had strewn about. Eyes alert and teary as you shrugged on some hoodie that Ronin had gave you some time ago. It’s material plush and gentle on the body. Black in color with a skull on its front.

It honestly screamed Ronin.

Your hand traced the pattern, sighing as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys.

You usually dressed up, even for something simple as this ( meeting Ronin at his usual alleyway ) and even doing a minimal amount of makeup. But you shrugged off the heavy feeling, the dysphoria practically screaming as you got into the car that Ronin had fixed a few months prior to your ‘accidental’ meeting.

You parked a few blocks away from the spot, scrambling out and locking the car before jogging to the alleyway. Your eyes darted around slightly as you made your way down the pathway. Eyes drifting to a specific brick wall that the two of you had met at.

“… huh?”

Ronin slumped against the wall, grinning as he noticed your steps.

“Hey darlin’… how are-“

He cuts himself off, his eyes drifting over your body with a furrowed brow and a small frown which was immediately replaced with a smile.

“Lazy day?”

“You can say that.”

Ronin obviously wasn’t satisfied with the answer, arms crossing as he approached and looked you dead in the eye. Noticing the redness, the puffy texture around them, and the fake smile you usually pulled on bad dysphoria days with a subtle grunt.

“What’s wrong?”

You shift a bit, rocking on the heels of your feet as you shrugged slightly and looked away. Your brows furrowed a bit as he leaned to meet your facial level.

“Nothing… just a bad dysphoria day.”

Immediately, he scowled. His arms suddenly wrapping around you in a comforting hug as he whispered nothing but affirmations to you. It made all the pent up emotions in your body spill out onto the floor. Soft sobs and quiet chokes escaping as you reciprocated the hug and sobbed into his chest.

“I’m not normal, why can’t I be normal…”

Ronin sighs, pressing a gentle kiss against the top of your head. His warmth, inviting and comforting as he whispered into your ear.

“Were we ever normal?”

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ozarkthedog · 1 year ago

Text

summary: while having a private moment with your boss, the ceo unexpectedly drops by… or so you think.

pairings: Boss!Layla El-Faouly x afab intern!reader x CEO!Marc Spector.

warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. Alt Universe. slight dubcon but reader is willing. power imbalance. free use. f/f -> f/m. established relationship (layla x reader). oral sex (fem receiving). fingering. sex in a private office. dirty talk. praise kink. cum feeding. cream pie.

word count: 3.8k 😅

author’s note: if a fic could come to life, i'd choose this one. thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta'ing and the mental support. i haven't written a fic this long in a while. hope you enjoy. 💙

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

“I have the paperwork all ready for you to sign, Ms. El-Faouly.”

Your boss, Layla, peers up at you with her deep brown eyes from behind her monitor. “Hey, one second. I’ve got to finish this email real quick.” She sends you a soft smile in return before nodding to the right towards a big stack of papers sitting messily on her desk.

Layla had one of the corner offices and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite spot in the entire building. It floods with sunlight all day long and it’s got a great view of the city. Layla was also another reason why it was your favorite.

“How was your day?” She asks, typing as you place the paperwork on top of the stack.

She’s wearing that dark gray, silk blouse and skirt combo you helped her pick out last week during a night out on the town. You told her it made her look powerful and inviting as you got down on your knees for her later that same evening.

“It’s going alright.” You sigh, drawing imaginary patterns on the corner of her desk.

Layla clicks send on the email and turns her attention to you. She leans her elbows on the edge of her desk with a pensive brow. You can see her brain working on ways to fix your problems before you even tell her. “What’s wrong?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Nothing is wrong, I swear.” You raise your hands, shaking your head while the gorgeous woman looks you over quizzically.

Stretching your arms over her desk, you grasp her hands, giving them a squeeze. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just..”

“What is it?” she asks, tucking a few strands of her wild curls behind her ear. She leads you around her desk by your clenched hands and pins your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Tell me.”

Your eyes dance around the room, landing everywhere but on her. She gives your chin a slight shake and forces your eyes back to hers.

You take a deep breath. “Am I doing a good job?”

Layla’s heart sinks. “Of course you are. Why on earth-”

“It’s just, it’s so much work.” You cut her off, spilling your worries now that the dam has been broken. “I hate not being able to get everything to you on time. Not to mention there’s so much paperwork. No one ever says thank you but they’ll definitely yell when you’ve done something wrong. I don’t know if I’m doing things right-”

“C’mere, baby.” She ceases your ramble and pulls you down into her lap and into a searing kiss that makes your head swirl.

Tender, yet fierce lips encompass your own, stealing your gasps with fond affection as she winds her arms around your waist and maneuvers you into the position she wants.

You settle into the pose, kneeling over her lap with your legs on the outsides of her thighs, the cushion of her expensive chair a grateful soft bedding as she forms you to her body.

“Should we really be doing this?” You ask between broken, breathless kisses. It was after 5pm, so it was less likely anyone would walk in on you and her. Still, hesitation nestled in your belly.

“Everyone is gone for the night.” She confirms before lewdly dragging her tongue along the seam of your lips. “There’s no need to worry about them.”

Layla presses her forehead against yours sensing your apprehension. She searches your timid eyes for a moment trying to find the right words to express her gratitude.

“You’re doing a wonderful job. I’ve gotten no complaints from anyone. So if they have an issue, they haven’t told anyone,” she says, holding your gaze. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you more about how lucky I am to have you. My life has been so much better since you started working here.”

She holds your face, rubbing her thumb along the apple of your cheek. “In more ways than one.” She winks, playfully.

“Layla!” You gasp, lightly swatting her on the chest.

She sends you a look you know all too well. The raised eyebrow and slightly parted lips mean trouble is coming. In a good way.

“Oh, baby, you don’t know what you started.” Her hands tickle your ribs in a flash making your eyes bug as you try to keep your giggles at bay. You squirm incessantly in her lap, wishing you could break free but she had a strong hold around your waist.

Your skirt slid up your thighs in the process of all your wriggling, no longer hiding your want for her as your panties are noticeably soaked through.

“Oh, baby, you really are desperate for me.” She coos, eyes growing soft as she feigns a pout. “Poor baby.”

She skillfully undoes the pearly buttons on your white, flower-patterned blouse, sliding the thin material off your shoulders and onto the floor. Soft, warm hands palm your breasts, feeling your heartbeat beneath your skin before she makes you gasp by wickedly pinching your sensitive nipples.

She teases her fingers down further then and along the soaked cloth of your panties, drawing light circles over your throbbing, hidden clit. You whimper into her chocolate curls, a soft pathetic mewl, begging her for more as you perch wearily in her lap.

“What do you say?” she asks with a sharp tongue and pointed stare.

She weaves her arm around your hips, smoothing a palm over the curve of your ass and dragging your panties down in the process before seeking out your aching warmth once more. A well-manicured finger teases down the slick, puffy seam of you from behind, teasing and torturing you until she’s satisfied. She loves breaking you into little pieces and putting you back together.

“Please-” You gasp as your hips buck on their own accord, chasing her fingers for relief. “Please, Layla.”

The older woman’s painted lips tug into a sly smile, “That’s my good girl.”

Your world is consumed. Her brunette curls smell of lavender and spice. They tickle your cheek and senses as she plays your body like a well tuned piano. Her hold on you is immense. There’s never any doubt that she doesn’t adore you.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Layla coos, grasping the back of your neck with her free hand as her other cups your searing mound. You jolt from the touch but do as she says, meeting her soft yet stoic expression with watery eyes.

She pins you with a firm stare as she slowly presses two fingers into your soaked core. You know better than to turn your gaze from her but your eyes flutter as she finally grants you the sweet relief you’ve been begging for.

“That’s my good girl,” Layla praises as she fills you to the hilt, knuckles grazing your puckered hole and claiming every inch of your cunt.

Deft fingers glide with prowess as a steady, toe curling rhythm is set. Your body trembles as a foggy bliss rolls into your mind. Your knees shake, desperately meeting her thrusts, wanting nothing more than to come around her fingers.

“You take what I give you, sweet girl.” Layla coos, nudging her nose against your cheek. She doesn’t like it when you get greedy. “You know that.”

One of your hands clutches the back of her chair while the other has her blouse in a death grip. A scolding is in your future but you could care less as you rock back onto her fingers chasing the pleasure she’s finally allowing.

Something heavy in your gut twists. The knot Layla began tying when she first got you onto her lap starts tightening. Your muscles ache, ready to collapse under the pressure when she gives you the word.

Just then, a quick succession of knocks rap on her door.

Your head whips up as Layla’s fingers go still. Ice courses through your veins freezing the searing wildfire that burns in your abdomen. You knew it was stupid to try anything at work. Besides the occasionally secretive kiss, you both kept things to a dull roar. No one knew about your relationship and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Shh. Be still.” Layla whispers, unfazed, as she cups her free hand along your jaw. “You trust me. Right?”

You nod in her tender hold, hips pressing just a bit harder into her palm. “Good girl.”

“Who is it?” Layla calls out. Your body jolts as her fingers begin moving again and you send her a bewildered look.

“Marc,” a gruff voice sounds from the other side of the door.

Shit — it was the CEO.

Marc Spector built this company from the ground up. He and Layla had been working together since almost the beginning. They explicitly trusted and respected one another even when they didn’t meet eye to eye.

You’d met Marc only once. It was a brief interaction as one of your coworkers showed you around on your first day. He was personable and made you feel welcome even though you were a lowly intern.

You thought he was handsome and could kill someone with his smile. His jet black quiff would curl on humid days when he forgot to gel it. It made you admire him even more for some reason.

“Come in.” She answers while holding your worried gaze with her own unwavering one.

Your heart jumps into your throat. “Layla, what’re doin-” you hiss, squirming to get free from her arms again.

“Remember your safe word.” she says, quickly just before Marc walks in.

“Layla, I was wonderin-” Marc starts as he steps into the office and instantly cuts himself off at the lewd display.

You can’t breathe. Shame and embarrassment flood your system. If the floor could open up, you’d gladly jump in.

Marc stands in awe. You couldn’t turn to face him but you spy his reflection in the darkened window and that’s more than enough. You don't know how you could ever look him in the eye after this.

“What’s this now?” He ponders, intrigue shaping his words as he steps closer, tapping his knuckles on Layla’s oversized desk.

“I was just rewarding her for doing such a good job,” Layla responds like she doesn’t have you propped in her lap with her fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

You see Marc nod in the reflection and take another step closer. Your body burns like red hot coals as you feel his eyes on your body mainly where Layla’s fingers slowly thrust into your shiny, slick opening.

“That right?” Marc questions with a curious tone as he rubs a hand along his rough five o’clock shadow.

“She’s so attentive and such a hard worker.” Layla praises, finally looking in your direction. “I had to show how much I appreciate her.”

Marc chuckles. It’s a deep huff of laughter that rumbles from his chest and it makes your insides melt. “Is she any good at helping relieve some stress?” he asks pensively while looking at your holes like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“She most certainly is,” Layla smirks, raising a sculpted brow before sliding a finger under your chin, tipping your face in toward her. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your heart drops into your stomach.

You’d been with Layla since the first day you started working, shared any and all free time together along with the inner workings of your bedroom. Explored each other’s bodies freely and with such passion. Falling to Layla’s feet came naturally to you and she made you feel complete; loved even.

You trusted her to push your limits whenever the time came but you didn’t think you’d ever be in this situation.

“Why don’t you show him how much you love being employed here, baby.” She dubiously insists, slowly nodding her head for you to comply.

You finally gather the courage to look over your shoulder.

Butterflies flutter wildly in your belly as you take in the devilishly handsome man. His hair is mused, like he’d been running a hand through it all day and his button up shirt is loose at the collar, exposing a column of tan skin with two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up exposing his muscular forearms. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

A nervous chortle bubbles up your throat at the nickname. Your insides turn to jelly; and your brain to mush. Your core can’t help but clench as the older man takes you in with a ravenous gaze.

“Oh, she likes that.” Layla quips upon feeling your pussy clamp down on her fingers.

“Does she now?” Marc croons, stepping up right behind you. He smooths his hands along the shape of you. His warmth feels good against your skin and you can’t help but moan when Layla curls her fingers along that spongy spot that makes you feel lightheaded.

“Damn, that’s a pretty pussy.” He drawls, crouching down behind your bent form. With your ass in the air, you already felt so exposed and now the owner of the company was getting a front row view of the most private parts of you.

Sticky, wet noises fill the room as Layla splays her fingers deep inside your velvet channel. You bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. So overstimulated and heated, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Want a taste?’ Layla asks, jogging you from your stupor.

Marc grunts in response. You look back in time to watch Layla feeding him her shiny, cream coated fingers. The debauched noise he makes while he licks and sucks her fingers clean has your heart falling into your lower half.

You meet his lust filled gaze as he stands. Layla’s fingers leave his lips with a pop, and he palms his hard length through his dark slacks. “You gonna show me how good you are at serving your superiors?”

A nervous whimper escapes from your throat at his question.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, lapping at some of your fallen cream as he pulls his cock out and gives it a languid tug. You watch dumbstruck as he pumps his length, from the obscenely thick base that’s littered with dark wiry hairs to a bulbous, desert blush tip that weeps in his hand after every twist.

“Is that a yes, sweetheart?” he questions.

A smirk lifts the corners of his mouth at your stupefied gaze. Marc raises a hand and grasps the back of your neck, moving your head in a crude up-down motion. “This is how you say, yes.”

Another deep chuckle burrows into your brain and makes you go even more dumb.

Fire ignites in your belly and races up your body, making your face burn. Your mouth bobs open and closed like a fish, wanting to answer him but you can’t even form the simplest word.

“She tends to go a bit brain dead when she gets overwhelmed.” Layla thankfully answers for you.

She thumbs your cheek. “But that pretty pussy of hers makes up for it.”

“You don’t say…” Marc quips before tapping his tip on your soaked folds. Your slick drips down your inner thighs showing that you would indeed make up for your lack of communication.

He notches the thick head past your dripping opening before slowly sinking into your cunt. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, pressing his full length all the way and grinding the cut of his hips against your ass.

“God damn.” Marc grits, hissing through his teeth at the way you squeeze him.

You whimper from the immense stretch. It feels like his cock is burrowing a new space inside your body. “Layla. Too much–” You gasp, having never felt so full before. “So. Big.”

She cups her hands around your face, hushing your cries. “I know, baby. I know.”

Marc’s hips never falter. He plunges into your heat with an unyielding, merciless pace, pushing slick and cream from between your folds, making your belly twist in pleasurable pain.

His strong hands knead your fleshy hips, pulling you back on every brute shove, forcing you to take every inch he gives. “Such a good girl. Doin’ just what we say.”

Your core clenches that much tighter knowing you’re making them happy. “You love it don’t you, pretty girl?” His heavy balls slap against your exposed clit making you mewl and writhe in the combined hold they had on you.

Sticky, sweet bliss drowns your senses. You’re a wanton mess. A plaything between two beautiful gods as they have their fun..

You whine when Marc slows his rhythm, canting his hips so his cock stays buried deep. “I thought you were one of the best.” Marc sighs with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. “But it seems you’re not as attentive as I thought.”

Your brow furrows as you look at him over your shoulder.

“I think it’s time to show your Boss how much you appreciate her.”

Marc moves quickly, dragging you out of Layla’s arms and down onto your knees in front of her spread legs. Layla quirks a brow at him.

“What? I wanted to see how attentive she really was.” Marc says, talking about you like you weren’t speared open on his heavy cock.

Layla pulls her dress up over her legs and spreads her thighs. Her panties looked much like your own, wet, sticky, and just begging to be removed.

“Go on. Show her how much you love being on your knees for her.” Marc commands. With a snap of his hips, he jolts your bones and forces your head between Layla’s thighs. “Eat your boss’s cunt.”

Heat flames your face at his words when a familiar hand curves around your jaw. Layla pulls her panties to the side and leads you gently, well as gently as she can while you’re being plowed from behind, to her slick folds.

She sighs as your tongue licks a long stripe from her weeping opening to her clit. You flick the tiny nub, drawing tight circles for a brief moment before sliding down her folds. You lap hungrily at her slit, freely licking into her tight hole and sliding your tongue in and out from her heat.

“There you go.” Layla coos down at you with a smile. She scratches her nails along your scalp making you purr against her clit. She grinds her cunt against your mouth, chasing her pleasure. Nothing made you happier than making Layla feel good. Your core throbs when she gasps and fucks her mound onto your tongue.

A rough, grating moan crawls from Marc’s chest as your cunt quivers and milks his length. “Such a good girl letting us use you like this.” He grits, slamming his hips harder into your ass and knocking your face steadily into Layla’s cunt. “Like you were made for it.”

Your core spasms at his words. You did love being on your knees for them. At their beck and call, wanting to be of service however they needed.

Marc lays his body along your spine, pressing his clothed chest against your bare back, and nuzzles his curved nose along your cheek. A large hand slinks around your hip and notches nimble fingers against your clit, swirling tight circles around the throbbing nub. “Wanna know all the pretty noises you make when you come.”

“Oh, they’re just the sweetest.” Layla moans, breathlessly as your lips lock around her clit. You suckle the tiny nub until

she’s digging her fingers into your hair, writhing and gasping.

Marc groans at the sight of his business partner unfurling with pleasure. His breath is hot in your ear and he crowds you even more, leaving no chance of escape.

“Come on, girl. Be good and come for us.” Marc commands, shifting his hips until his throbbing tip grazes that hidden spot behind your clit.

With Layla humping your face and Marc sheathing his cock further inside you with every shove, you’re pushed to the edge before you can even think. Your cream coated lips fall open with a feverish wail as your body locks tight.

Your muscles shake uncontrollably as you careen off the edge. Your soaked core clenches like a fist, forcing Marc’s pace to stutter and drag him along with you. He lets loose a dark roar when his balls draw up and he fucks your trembling core to the brim with his thick seed.

His cock twitches between your folds, pumping you full with every last drop. “God damn, you weren’t kidding. She more than made up for going all dumb eariler.” He slowly eases from your core with a hiss and tucks his half hard length back into his slacks.

Your head is still reeling from the powerful orgasm and Marc’s compliment makes you just that much more lightheaded. Thank goodness you were already on the ground.

“Oh you’re making such a mess.” Layla gasps when she sees the thick river of white that runs down your thighs. Your knees ache from being on the hard carpet for so long but the pain is forgotten as the pair crowds over you.

You whine as Layla and Marc drag their fingers through the hot stickiness and press them into your mouth.

You gag heavily around the two sets of fingers, tears pricking your eyes as they cover your tongue in the combined spend. “Good girl. Clean up the mess you made.” Marc nods slowly, heavy lidded with a deep moan of satisfaction as you choke and sputter while Layla proudly smiles down at you. “Did so well for me; for us.”

She shares a curious look with Marc before turning her gaze back to you and thumbs the last bit of white into your mouth.

“Might need to borrow her again sometime soon.” Marc comments as they help you onto your feet. “You know how stressed I can get.”

Your legs are shaky, like a newborn doe, as Layla brushes down your crumpled skirt while Marc helps you back into your blouse, securely buttoning you up.

“We’ll see about that.” Layla responds as she gathers you into her arms and sits back down on her chair, tucking your sleepy head under her chin.

“I’ll see you ‘round the office, sweetheart.” He raises a hand and tenderly grazes your dewy temple with his knuckles.

As he sees himself out, he winks at Layla and she smirks before he shuts the door leaving the two of you in peaceful silence.

As you relax in Layla’s arms, burrowing yourself into her safe warmth, you notice through sleepy eyes that her monitor is still on. The email she was typing when you dropped off the paperwork lights up the screen.

𝚃𝙾: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 (𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌)

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 - 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙻𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚊 𝙴𝚕-𝙵𝚊𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚢

𝙲𝙵𝙾 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌

*evil laughter* they were in cahoots the entire time!

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!

#layla el faouly #marc spector #Layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x reader x marc spector #marc spector x reader #oscar isaac #may calamawy

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traffic-was-a-b1tch · 7 months ago

Text

anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: abuse, mentions of past abuse, sexual assault, misogyny, ex drama, violence, insults, cursing, let me know if I missed any.

author’s note: this is where the plot thickens, ok? trust the process lol. PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE WARNINGS. this is a heavy chapter. we’ll get to more of the lovey-dovey in coming chapters, but this? this is not love. reader beware.

• • •

Chapter Three:

you did your best to forget about jake.

sure the loud music was annoying but the image of him, shirtless, brushing your cheek replaying in your head constantly was much more infuriating. you just had to forget about that asshole. that toned, cocky asshole.

kaylee finished painting that night and in the morning, while you were getting dressed, you apologized for not helping her finish.

“don’t worry about it. I could tell you were too in your head to work”, she smiled then squinted at you, “what happened that made you so spaced?”

you told her. everything.

from the first time you talked to him, to him touching your cheek.

she was speechless.

“yeah. I definitely see where you’re coming from”, she breathed.

“yeah, I don’t know what to think”, you finished buttoning your blouse,”but for now I gotta go. I have an interview in an hour.”

you hugged her, grabbed your keys, and made your way down the stairs to your car.

you knew what you needed to focus on today was getting a job. you didn’t spend four years working two jobs and being a full-time student to daydream about your neighbor.

you were interviewing at your second pick of jobs in the city. your first pick hadn’t responded to your online application yet, so you decided to go for this one for now.

you wore a patterned pink blouse with black slacks and small pink kitten heels. you were already a little uncomfortable in the heels, but you chalked it up to nerves.

the building was huge, many offices on many floors peered down at you. you felt small, but you were trying to stay confident.

walking into the waiting room, you felt eyes on you. many other people lined the walls in chairs, seemingly applying for the same job. as you checked in, you took in the overbearingly white, hospital-like walls and gray details.

certainly less color than you would prefer, but you needed a job nonetheless.

the wait felt like forever, but it was probably only ten minutes.

a woman walked in, in a black dress, and looked down at her clipboard. she called your name and you quickly stood up. following her, you were led down a small white hallway with gray carpet.

they must really detest color here, you thought.

she let you into an office and you quietly thanked her. inside was a man in a suit and tie sitting behind a desk. his face, adorned with a small scowl, was halfway hidden by a computer screen.

“hello, sir. i’m here about the marketing job”, you greeted, holding out your resume for him to take.

he didn’t look up, focused on his computer, but waved his hand for you to sit.

you did, squirming a bit uncomfortably in the thick plastic on the chair. finally, he finished typing and looked at you.

“oh, right. the, uh, marketing job.”

his middle aged voice was a bit raspy, and his posture suggested he’d been working nonstop for a few decades.

“so”, he started, “what do you see yourself doing in five years?”

the question was a given at any interview, so you were thoroughly prepared.

“I see myself with a growing career, hopefully in a higher position than i’m interviewing for, and living in my own house just outside the city.”

“with your husband?”

you had to hide the flash of pain on your face as you remembered your ex. ex-fiancé, in fact.

you replied, “sure, maybe in time, but I don’t have any plans for that right now.”

he rolled his eyes and wrote something on a paper in front of him.

“i’m sorry, sir”, you smiled, not understanding what you did to illicit that response, “is there something wrong with my answer?”

“it’s always girls like you, so young, that act like they don’t care about relationships. only careers.”

you laughed half-heartedly and tried to stay polite.

“well, I did work very hard on my career so a husband can wait.”

he raised his eyebrow, “that is a woman’s purpose, you know. your life doesn’t truly begin until you are married. then you can have children and fulfill yourself.”

you were shocked.

such an outright misogynistic remark made you question if you heard right.

you didn’t hide the shock and anger on your face as you stood up.

“excuse me, sir, but I am more than just a machine that can get married and produce children. I am a person, a very smart one at that, who can make her own decisions and pay her own bills. I do not need your input on what you think is important for me to do with my own life. thank you for the interview, but I think i’ll pass on working here. i’ll see myself out.”

you turned and left, angered and appalled.

fuck, is it asshole men month or what?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the drive home gave you time to calm down. you listened to a podcast and tried to relax but it was becoming harder and harder with all the things on your mind.

you finally got home, relieved to go upstairs and take off your shoes.

walking into your hallway, you start looking for your keys in your purse.

“hey.”

you stopped.

you’d know that voice anywhere.

your ex-fiancé.

“tanner, what the fuck are you doing here?”

you looked up, taking him in. your breath quickened, terrified. he was intimidating, scary.

“I found where you ran off to. such a hole in the wall, is it not?”

tanner examined the hallway, flicking the chipping paint.

you looked beyond him to see your apartment door, just a few feet away. you had to get there. you needed to lock yourself inside and call the cops.

“it’s good enough for me”, you replied shakily.

you started to move towards your door, steadily.

he followed you down and planted his hand firmly on the door.

“no. you’re not going anywhere. not until you tell me that you love me again.”

even while being frightened of him, you scoffed.

“say I love you again? tanner, you beat me at our engagement party! you’re fucking sick! you really think I could still love you after months of abuse?”

his faced hardened. he started inching closer to you.

you backed away, hitting the wall.

“please, tanner. calm down. just go home. please just leave me alone. please.”

in a swift move, he grabbed your arm hard. you yelped in pain, knowing he’d leave more bruises on top of the ones still healing.

“what was that? you don’t love me?”, he was borderline yelling. “you can’t fool me, bitch. I know you do. you still want me.”

when you started to sob, tanner forced his face on yours into an unwelcome kiss. he pushed his knee in between your legs, putting pressure on your core, as he grabbed your breast in his hand roughly.

pain entered your body from every angle.

you grunted and sobbed against him, “get off of me!”

then you heard a door open.

after this, it’s all a blur.

you remember bits and pieces of two men fighting.

“get the fuck off of her!”, one yelled. he planted a punch right on tanner’s jaw.

you fell to the ground, sobbing with your legs pressed to your chest.

the men swung at each other, tanner landing a few blows to the other one. but then, after one more punch to the face, tanner fell.

he was unconscious, and you buried your face in your arms to avoid seeing his face anymore.

the other man squatted to your level.

“fuck, are you ok?”

you lifted your head, and saw jake.

• • •

yeah. I told you. no picnic in this chapter. BUT keep reading, it will get better. as always PLEASE feel free to leave me feedback, give suggestions, etc!

#greta van fleet #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #daniel wagner #danny wagner #danny gvf #gvf smut #gvf fic

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iiftnepal · 1 year ago

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"Exploring the Latest Trends in New Blouse Designs for Partywear in Nepal"

When it comes to trendy blouse designs for party events in Nepal, there are types of blouse patterns options that complement sarees beautifully. Here are some popular blouse designs and types of blouse patterns that are currently in vogue for new blouse design in Nepal:

Halter Neck Blouse Design in Nepal:The halter neck blouse design is a chic and contemporary choice, featuring a high neckline that ties behind the neck. It’s an elegant option for parties and adds a modern twist to your saree look.

Off-Shoulder Blouse Design for Saree in Nepal:Off-shoulder blouses are all the rage, and they’re perfect for party events. These blouse design for saree in nepal showcase your shoulders and collarbone, giving you a glamorous and trendy appearance.

Cold-Shoulder Blouse Design in Nepal:Cold-shoulder blouse designs have small, stylish cutouts at the shoulder, creating a fashionable and edgy look. They are great for adding a touch of drama to your saree ensemble.

Puff Sleeve Blouse Design in Nepal:Puff sleeves are making a comeback. These sleeves add volume and drama to your blouse, creating a retro-inspired party look. You can choose between long or short puff sleeves, depending on your preference.

Peplum Blouse Design for Saree in Nepal:Peplum blouses feature a fitted bodice with a flared peplum waist. This design creates a flattering silhouette and can be embellished with embroidery or sequins for a glamorous party look.

Backless Blouse Design in Nepal:A backless blouse is a bold and glamorous choice for parties. It can feature intricate designs, ties, or embellishments on the back to make a striking statement.

Full Sleeves Blouse Design in Nepal:Full sleeves with intricate embroidery or sheer fabric can add a touch of elegance to your party saree look. These blouses are suitable for cooler evenings.

High-Neck Blouse Design in Nepal:High-neck blouses with embellishments, embroidery, or sheer fabric can give you a regal and sophisticated appearance at parties.

Cape Blouse Design for Saree in Nepal:Cape blouses are a unique and trendy choice. These blouses have a detachable cape that adds drama and style to your saree outfit.

Asymmetrical Hem Blouse Design in Nepal:Asymmetrical hem blouses feature an uneven hemline, creating a contemporary and fashionable look. They can be paired with plain or printed sarees for a trendy party ensemble.

To stay updated with the latest blouse design in Nepal, you can visit local boutiques, fashion magazines, or explore online fashion platforms. Additionally, you can consult with a professional fashion designer or tailor in Nepal to customize these blouse designs according to your preferences and the saree you plan to wear for your party event.

#fashion designing #interior design #fashion school #diploma in fashion designing #diploma in interior designing #interior design course #interior decor ideas #diploma in fashion #fashion designing course #new blouse design in nepal #blouse designs for saree in nepal #types of blouse patterns #blouse design in nepal #types of blouse necklines

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gold-pavilion · 2 years ago

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「TR Casual Fashion Illustrations」translations, part 1

I couldn't find them around and I really wanted them, so I grabbed the book and translated all of these.

Grouping the season 2 characters in this post. See this post for the season 1 characters.

Inui Seishu

- Likes wide, plain jerseys in gaudy purples or pinks

- Black loose-fitting tanktop

- Loose sweatpants, absolutely must match his top

- Stiletto heels, he likes the type that was kinda popular among delinquents in the 90s

(Koko, Hakkai, Yuzuha, and Taiju below)

Kokonoi Hajime

- Likes mao collar jackets, basics, flower patterns

- Sarouel pants, the feeling of freedom is key

- A dress shirt and proper black necktie are standard items he always wears

- Sandals, likes Loubou**n and Gi***chy and such

Shiba Hakkai

- Varsity jacket, loves when it's got a ton of patches making it flashier

- Knit sweater with damaged parts, Taka-chan chose it for him

- Taka-chan told him that since his legs are long, three-quarter length pants suit him, so that's what he wears

- Short boots that he instantly fell for while shopping with Yuzuha in Harajuku

Shiba Yuzuha

- Loves looking stylish

- Since it's casual wear, she likes matching up any manicure type with it

- Has special products to care for her light hair, which she inherited from her mom (and Hakkai uses them, even though his hair is shaved short)

- While looking for a jacket that matched her blouse at a thrift store, she loved this at first sight

- Loves high boots, 'cause they make her legs look slender

- "Nee-chan has a great fashion sense, but horrible when it comes to accessories", says Hakkai

Shiba Taiju

- Takes a liking to a new leather or denim jacket and wears that all season

- Very tight shirt

- At any rate, he likes combining a full black set!

- Only likes silver accessories anyways!

- Slim-ish jeans

- Anyways, he likes pointed shoes!

#tokyo revengers #inui seishu #kokonoi hajime #inui #koko #shiba hakkai #shiba yuzuha #shiba taiju #hakkai #yuzuha #taiju #my translation stuff #tr fashion illustrations #tr character book

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helplesslypurple77 · 1 year ago

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Day 11- Sakaguchi Ango/Reader with kinks Sitting Cowgirl/(Onsen)Bath Sex

Notes:this is almost entirely created out of horny daze from that one clip of dub Ango saying ‘you nasty man’ about Dazai and i just uhhhhh. You know, in the real world Ango would totally be my type. I love skinny nerds with glasses. But my fictional type is 100% more problematic. Also I turned Ango into a simp. Oops.

His assistant loved skirts. She loved wearing little patterned secretary skirts with cute little blouses and her hair piled all across his shoulders and Ango wanted to throw himself out of the second story window his office was located on. He really didn't want to be one of those employers, the gross bosses who intentionally dropped stuff on the ground to stare down their assistants' shirts or had fantasies about them during working hours. But it was really hard. It also didn't help that you were intelligent and pretty and smiled at him kindly and brought him coffee on all nighters and he had the tiniest little crush on you.

It had all started a few months ago, when Ango had finally been convinced to hire an assistant to deal with the workload he was drowning under. And he had hired you because you were intelligent and had an excellent resume, he would confess but also his jaw almost hit the floor the second you strutted into the room in your little red kitten heels, red flowy top and black skirt. You were drop dead gorgeous, and if he was being honest that was probably a huge part of the reason he hired you in the first place. But he was starting to regret it. It's not like you were incompetent, not far from it. You were extremely smart and kind and had been a great help to him over these last few months, it wasn't that. You were too perfect. You were smart and pretty and kind and he was a weak, sleep deprived man starved for affection who hadn't touched a woman in way too long and he maybe had a little crush on you.

And ok, he thought as he caught himself daydreaming about your future wedding for the fifth time today, maybe it was a little more than a crush, maybe he was actually in love with you. Ok not maybe, he totally was. But could you really blame him? You looked lovely in the white(hence the wedding fantasies) blouse and blue skirt you had chosen for today, and it didn't help that it was low cut, showing Ango(and everyone else) the most teasing bit of delicious cleavage. And Ango hated the world because he had a meeting today and he knew all the similarly overworked and horny men would spend the entire time staring at His assistant, and then they would come over here all the time just to look at you and one of them would probably offer you a higher salary and steal you away right from under his nose—

“Mr Sakaguchi? I have the documents you wanted.” You're back from the front office and looking at him quizzically, a manila folder in your outstretched hand. Ango pushes up his glasses and gives you a sharp nod. “Wonderful, thank you.” He needs to get back to work and stop daydreaming or it's another sleepless night for him. “Please start the booking process for the company trip.” With a nod and a smile you turn, the sway of your hips horribly distracting as you make your way to your desk. Your desk is next to his, which is a really good thing because now if he stares at you it will be really obvious and his pride will help him focus on his work.

But his work is boring and you are pretty and even though he has to actively turn his head he still catches himself staring at you. You look so pretty, typing away at your desk, occasionally catching your lip in your teeth distractingly. No, he has to focus on the documents, no matter how boring they are, he really, really doesn't want to stay overnight but maybe if he did you would stay too and then he would get even less work done. Anyway he can see it, he's screwed. He’s down bad and there's nothing he can do about it.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You really didn't even want to think about how you had ended up in this situation. Sharing a private Onsen and a room with your boss who you MAYBE, possibly, had a small miniscule crush on. You glared at the screen of your laptop dubiously, taking your anger and embarrassment out on the well worn keys of your old laptop. It was old, and a portion of the screen was completely black, but you loved the thing. And you didn't want to transfer all the data you had over here to a new laptop, that was more trouble than it was worth.

And anyway, this situation was partly your fault. You had been dead tired when you booked this place. An Onsen was a classic choice for a work trip, and although this one was kind of expensive, only four people from your department could even make it. So low numbers ment less expenses, and also meant you could afford to splurge a little. So you booked two rooms, one for you and Akane, and another for your boss, Ango, and your coworker Jerry.

But anyway, you had thought you were going to share a room with your coworker, Akane, but she had decided to demand she share with her boyfriend, and you had jumped at the chance, thinking you would get a private room. But no, now you were sharing with your handsome boss. You really didn't understand why Akane was dating Jerry anyway. She was drop dead gorgeous, with long straight black hair and big, doll-like eyes. And Jerry was kind of, just average. But he was nice, you supposed, and that was just the way of the world.

A knock sounded on the sliding door panel, and Ango peaked his head in. He sent you an apologetic little smile, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“It's time for dinner. We’re eating in Akane and Jerry’s room.” you closed your computer with a nod, standing up and following him out of the room and into the hall. It was silent, and the air hung with a strange awkward air. You coached, trying to make conversation. “I'm sorry this happened, Mr Sakaguchi.” You can't see his face from where you are, but he clears his throat. “It's alright, really.” You sigh silently to yourself. From his tone it sounds like he really doesn't want to share with you. It hurts, just a little. You ignore the panging in your chest and sigh. “I'm really sorry Sir, I would have liked to share with Akane, but she can be really convincing sometimes.” Ango’s shoulders stiffen, and he nods jerkally, with an awkward chuckle. “Yes, I suppose so.” And the both of you pad down the rest of the hall in awkward silence.

There is a large table set out in Akane and Jerry’s room, laden with delicious dishes. Your mouth waters, and you shove aside your hurt feelings for now and dig into the spread of delicious food before you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You're left alone in the room, for now at least. Ango had informed you that he was heading out to the store to grab a few things, and promptly left you to yourself. The hot spring water is a soft milky white, and the steam rising off the surface scatters as your toe skims the surface. Ripples mar the previously untouched water as you slowly make your way in. The pool is large, about five feet in diameter and rounded, with decorative rocks by the wooden bamboo fence. Little plants run along the fence, ferns and pretty white flowers. The ceiling is painted with a beautiful starry night scene, to give the illusion of outdoors, and fake candles hide in the plants.

The address sitting by, the one that faces the room is more modern, with a thin Rock Ledge and a small basket for your towel. The fluffy white towels were provided with the room, along with some complimentary Yukata and only one futon, because of course. You think all the way into the water letting the soothing warmth sink into your bones. The ledge you are sitting on is beneath the water allowing the milky warm water to almost completely cover your breasts. You sigh, and lean your head back, closing your eyes.

What a long, tiring, day it had been. First the long drive up, and then this dress of your co-workers insisting they share a room, and just because they were dating. And then after all of that along awkward dinner with your boss while the two of you watched your co-workers cuddle and feed each other the entire time. And then they had ditched both of you to definitely fuck. Yeah, so much fun.

You sighed, trying to cheer yourself up. You were being a bit grumpy after Akane had ditched you for her boyfriend. You considered her a good work friend, and even though you knew she was trying to set you up with Ango, you were still a bit salty. But honestly, it wasn't even that bad. The Onsen was lovely, and the food was delicious. The water was warm and delicious and soothed your bones, and you couldn't help the hopeful feeling that rose in your stomach. Maybe, something will finally happen between you and Ango. Even if the relationship was kind of inappropriate and you didn't think he liked you like that. You sighed, breathing deeply.

The sound of the sliding door pulled you out of your musings. “Akane, that you?” You called, she had said she would stop by later. “You better have a good apology ready, girl.”The Intruder coughed, a distinctly masculine sound and your eyes shot open. And of course, because the gods were laughing at you, there stood Ango. He coughs again, cheeks pink and eyes avoiding your own. “Not Akane. Sorry. Um, I'll just go.” he sounds strangely flustered, an emotion you haven't seen him express that often. You can't help it, you give him a potentially flirty smile. “You should come in, sir. The waters really nice.” Ango coughs again, his face turning redder, and you watch as his eyes dart between your collarbones and your face.

And you really shouldn't, you know you shouldn't, but a theory is forming. A dangerous, sexy, hopeful theory. A theory that maybe, your boss has as much of a crush on you as you do on him. But, your theory needs more data, and so you rise slightly from the water, putting on an innocent smile. “You should really come in sir, and anyway, I need to talk to you. Mei was informing me the other day about some potential data leaks.” You turn with a smile, showing just enough cleavage to be a tease, but enough to spare your dignity if he declines.

The man himself is still standing by the doorway, probably weighing the pros and cons behind those glasses of his. He’s still wearing his work suit, although his jacket hangs on a coat rack near the door, and he’s rolled up his sleeves a little, exposing his delicate wrists and hands. His hands are pretty, long pale fingers, ribbed slightly with blue veins, the skin slightly transparent. You want those fingers inside of you. Ango lets out the sigh of a very tired man, and with a push of his glasses, gives you a small nod. “I'll join you then.” He says, disappearing behind the bathroom door with a small smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

This is honestly a disaster for his sanity. Ango knows it's a terrible idea, but he took one look at your smile and heard the damning words ‘data leak’ and feared for his future. Both for embarrassing himself and losing more sleep. He can hear faint splashing as he disrobes, folding his clothes and wrapping a towel around his hips to hopefully spare his dignity, at least until he inevitably gets hard and has to drown himself out of mortification.

He peaks around the door, and his eyes catch on your back, the bit he can see above the water anyway. All he can see is the top of your shoulders, and of course your neck, as you’ve drawn your hair up. And somehow, that's actually worse because you're obviously naked but he still doesn't get a proper view. It feels like a tease. He takes a deep breath, straightens his shoulders and walks towards the hot springs. He’s grateful that you keep your view on the fence as he removes the towel and quickly slips into the milky water, sitting as far away from you as he can without being obvious about it, which is about three feet. You open your eyes, shooting him a little smile. “It's nice isn't it?” You say, leaning towards him slightly. Ango watches as more and more of your clear skin is revealed, and yanks his eyes away from the top of your cleavage, meeting your eyes. “The water? Um, yes it's very nice.”

He doesn't have his glasses on, and you make a dangerously sexy picture, what with the slight fuzziness maring the edge of his vision. The world behind you is blurry, and not of any importance. It's almost like a photograph, with you at the center. You seem to have gotten slightly closer, and Ango can pick out a mole on your collarbone. It naturally drags the eye to it, and that is definitely why he has a hard time yanking his eyes away from it. “So.” He says, clearing his throat. “You said something about Data leaks?” Is it his imagination or are you leaning closer. He can smell you now, that damn orange blossom perfume that taunts his dreams.

You're definitely moving closer. “Yes, Mei informed me that some of the files from the classified cases have vanished.” Your smile is too seductive. He must be projecting. You continue. “I think it was files…oh i don't know, ill have to clarify with Mei.”

Ango clears his throat, focusing his eyes somewhere over your left shoulder. “The classified cases? Potentially how bad are we talking.” He says. You clear your throat, drawing his eyes back to you. At least he can focus on your face. It's very pretty, but at least it does not create problems other than speeding up heart rate.

“Um, I believe Mei said it was some files about the Hunting Dogs? Specifically Fukuchi.” You lean back against the side of the Onsen, closing your eyes. “I think it was investigative data pulled out of a port mafia exec? Strange little details and stuff like that.”

The stuff your saying is very concerning, and usually Ango would be having a mini heart attack, but right now your naked and you're less than a foot away from him and all Ango can picture, instead of the sleepless nights he’ll be having soon, is you on top of him, bouncing up and down. You’d sound pretty, he knows it. It's one of his most recurring fantasies, you naked atop him, bouncing up and down and moaning his name. He had it the first time in the middle of a meeting, and he would have been more embarrassed but he knew for a fact that half the men in the room were fantasizing about you. It was still embarrassing though.

You're so pretty, with your hair pulled up into a messy bun, a few strands falling out and brushing your neck, daring Ango to lay pretty kisses to it. You would look so pretty covered in hickeys, or dressed in pure white at the end of a wedding aisle. Because Ango is quite sure you're the one. You're pretty and smart and kind and so, so sexy and Ango wants to have babies with you. And maybe he’s a little far gone and this entire thing is kind of pathetic and sad but right now he can't bring himself to care because you're smiling at him and Ango is just a sad little man with a sad little crush. Or he can't really call it a crush anymore, can he. He’s quite plainly in love with you.

“Ango? Are you listening?” Your saying. He looked up guiltily, because he wasn't listening. And now he just noticed you called his name, not his last name, not sir, and he loves it. Maybe a little too much. You sigh, and Ango watches in slow motion as you move closer still. The water ripples as you move, and Ango sees flashes of nipple below the milky surface. He almost chokes on his own spit.

“Anyay, as I was saying. I think some of it…” You lean closer, and whisper in his ear. “Some of it was from Ace? About Demon Fyodor.” This is important stuff you're talking about, but then again you're also really close to him and you smell like orange blossoms and your boobs brush him under the water and Ango’s hard. He’s definitely hard and he can still feel your nipple brushing against his arm under the water and there's no way you dont feel it because how couldn't you. And now your shooting him fuck me eye’s and Ango knows you’re doing this on purpose. And all at once he feels a sense of relief and embarrassment at the same time and then, he feels your hand grip his wrist, and pull it, ever so slowly, to your chest. Your skin is soft, your nipple hard beneath his palm and as Ango’s hand comes in contact with it, his dick jumps under the water.

“Um, Name? Wh-what are you doing?” He says, trying to get ahold of his voice. He fails. You're smirking at him, because even as he protests, his hand is still on your boob.

“I really like you, Ango.” You say, moving closer until you're pressed as close as you can be, your shoulders touching. “I would like to go out with you, if you feel the same.” Ango cant breath, because he’s a simp and the woman he was just imagining in a wedding gown likes him too, and he needs to respond. “I like you too, I really do.” He says. “I was wondering if maybe you want to get coffee sometime? And maybe kiss me? Please kiss me.”

“I'd love to get coffee. And kiss you too.” You're smiling, less sexily now and more just happily, and Ango’s smiling too, and now you're crawling onto his lap, and pressing your lips to his. And Ango’s dreamed of this, many different times but none of those fantasies can compare to the real thing. It's just a soft press of lips at first, a chaste, deep kiss. A kiss that tells of love and devotion, and less of carnal lust. And it's lovely, so wonderful and Ango’s heart is singing in his chest, and it's just all so wonderful.

It feels heavenly, like kissing heaven, because you are heaven, and your boobs are pressing into his chest and he can feel his dick pressing against your stomach and he wants to just enjoy the kiss but the slight bit of pressure makes his kisses turn desperate, and now he’s gripping your head, trying to inhale ever bit of your being through your mouth. Your so pretty, so sexy, so attractive and smart and he really wants to fuck you, so bad. He presses his tongue against the seam of your mouth, asking, begging really for entrance. You grant it, and your tongues tangle together, a dance of devotion, now turning to carnal lust. A desire to know one another through your bodies, to feel each other's feelings, really, truly and deeply.

You break away, panting against his mouth, and Ango feels you grind down, taking your pleasure against his legs. “God, I want you inside of me.” You pant against his mouth. Ango nods, begging you to have your way, pleading for your salvation. Your hands reach between the two of you, and Ango bites his lip as he feels your hands on his cock positioning it, and then he feels a hot pressure envelop the head.

He bites back another moan, instead opting to watch you as you bite your lip, and slowly sink down the length of his cock, enveloping him in your tight, wet heat. It's so hot, everything is hot. From the onsen water surrounding him, to your body pressed against his, to your panted breaths by his ear as you collapse against him grinding your body slowly.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

It's always the nerdy ones who are huge. You're panting against his neck, slowly grinding in circular motions. His dick scrapes against your walls deliciously, his little bitten back whimpers make your pussy clench around him. It's all so hot, so big, so steamy. You slowly rise, dropping down again, and repeat. He spares you deep, so deep. You whimper in his ear.

“God Ango. god your fucking me so deep.” You moan in his ear, his hair tickling your skin. He lets out a bitten little grunt, hands anchored on your ass, helping your slow thrusts. “I've wanted this for so long.” Ango pants out, his voice all soft and raspy, delicious hands helping another thrust. “Used to stare at your ass in those skirts. Tried not to, I'm sorry.” He sounds so wrecked and pathetic it turns you on. And besides, the tough of straight laced Ango taking peeks at your ass thrilled you.

“Aww, did you like those skirts?” You coo. He moans, his dick twitching inside of you. “I bet you peaked down my shirt too.”

“I did, ‘m sorry. You were so pretty and so sexy and—” you shut him up with a kiss. His kisses are deep, full of devotion and lust, almost as if he’s trying to mold himself into you. His dick is wrecking your insides, each deep thrust giving you a dizzy shot of pleasure. And with each grind, your clit rubs against his pubic bone, driving you absolutely crazy. You can tell he feels the same, each painted grunt and moan in your ear is a dead giveaway. You're not much better though, and you kiss his neck, trying to muffle your moans.

“Let me hear them.” Ango pants against you, hands gripping your ass in handfuls. “Wanna hear your pretty moans.” He sounds wrecked too, and you can't even bring yourself to be embarrassed anymore. You let your moans out, letting them echo around the space. It's all so steamy and intimate.

You feel your orgasm building in your gut, and you pull your face away from his neck, meeting his eyes. You're looking down on him from here, and it's quite the sexy view. He’s pretty toned, especially because he spends all of his time in an office, but the most catching thing is his eyes. They're locked on your own, hazy and half lidded with lust, and swimming with so much love and devotion you almost cum right there.

“Ango, ‘m close.” You catch his attention, whimpering the words, whispering them, inches from his lips. He nods. “Me to my darling.” He says. The pet's name is so sweet, so devoted. It hurts your soul, and at the same time warms you from the inside out. But it's the next thing that gets you. “I love you Name.” He whispers, staring so deep into your eyes you might cry.

You cum with a cry, the pleasure shooting through your body, the pure devotion in his eyes making your heart soar even as your pussy clenches around his dick. “Oh god, I love you too, Ango.” The words are a moan as you grip him close to you, grinding your clit frantically down on his as you clench. You hear him hiss, and then his dick twitches inside you, ropes of hot cum staining your insides. He comes with a tiny little whimper, muffled against your boobs, and the sweetest little whisper of ‘i love you.’ you kiss the words back. You guys sit like that for a long while, pressing little I love you’s into each other's skin, and as his dick comes back to life, making love until the morning.

...

Endnotes: I don't know how Japanese work trips work. I used what I've seen in anime and manga as a basis, and ran with that. I've also never been to an onsen. And it shows.also, have you guys seen that one Ango illustration with the kimono and the book, like i literally cannot do this anymore. I’ll link it for you https://www.pinterest.com/pin/146859637833737986/

#bungou stray dogs #mariannacrxss #kinktober 2023 #bsd smut #helplesslypurple77kinktober #kinktober #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #ango sakaguchi #ango x reader

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halfagonyandhope · 1 month ago

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ignite the stars │ch. 17

first chapter (x); previous chapter (x)

Satine Kryze is an internationally-recognized scholar in genocide studies who recently resigned from the Department of State over her concerns regarding the agency's ethics. Ben Kenobi is a tenured professor at Georgetown University studying the use of religion to justify military conflicts. Once high school sweethearts, the two haven't spoken since parting ways for university. That is, until Satine accepts a research fellowship - at Georgetown.

---

Somewhere between conscious and not, Satine hears Ben’s knock at her door.

Her eyes flash open, revealing bright lights coming from her kitchen and softer streetlights flooding through the dark of her living room. Satine sits up sharply.

Asajj is already moving to the door, and Quinlan is at the window. “It’s Kenobi,” he confirms, and Asajj unlocks the deadbolt, swinging open the door, as Quinlan flips on the lights in the living room.

Ben looks worse for wear, though Satine imagines she looks worse. His expression confirms this.

Ben drops his travel pack - a military issue tactical backpack - at the door and heads immediately for Satine, sitting next to her. His hands immediately rise to her face, cupping her jaw.

“You’re okay?”

“From a certain point of view,” she confirms, and he crushes her to him.

She feels him look over to their friends. “Thank you,” he says gruffly. “For coming over. For staying with her. For calling me.”

Quinlan is already holding Asajj’s jacket for her to slip into. “You’d do the same for us,” he says.

Ben nods, still holding tight to Satine.

Asajj opens the door. “Let us know what else we can do. We’re only a few minutes away, okay?”

They quietly depart, and Ben extracts himself from Satine to lock the door behind them. He shrugs out of his own jacket, toes off his shoes, and then returns to Satine, pulling her to him once more.

“Ventress texted me everything,” he says. “I think you were pretty out of it, but she got pictures of your arm and the blouse. She even took a sample of the blood from your shirt before washing it - she says it’s in your laundry room. Something tells me she’s had a lot of experience getting blood out of various types of fabric.”

Satine nods, her thoughts feeling slow.

“The texts are to establish a record of what happened, in case Malek tries anything funny. But I agree with Ventress: I don’t think he will. There are too many similar stories like this of him, and eventually the powers that be won’t be able to keep that pattern hidden.”

Satine sinks into him. Everything feels disjointed, off-kilter, and she's finding it difficult to focus on one train of thought.

She sighs.

“I need a shower,” she says suddenly. “I feel like I can’t get him off me.”

Ben nods against her, standing up and pulling her with him. When she sways, he steadies her.

He leads her up the stairs and to the en suite bathroom, though he waits outside as she starts the shower. As the water and air begin to heat, Satine feels a bit more like herself. She looks over at him.

“Stay,” she says.

“I wasn’t planning on leaving,” he says immediately.

“I meant stay here. I meant…join me.”

He obeys without needing another word of convincing, moving into the washroom, pulling off his sweater and tee shirt. His socks and slacks and boxers follow, and he places all his clothes neatly near the sink. Then he helps her with her shirt, her trousers, and her undergarments.

He steps into the shower to test the temperature. Finding it satisfactory, he reaches out a hand to her.

Satine takes it.

He maneuvers her so that she is directly under the warm shower’s spray, the drops falling against her back.

And without thinking about it, without planning it, Satine leans into him, wrapping her arms around his torso, his skin warming her own.

“Say something to me,” she whispers, realizing that despite passing out on the couch for several hours, she’s still bone tired. “Anything. I like knowing it’s you. Here.”

And so he begins, whispering sweet nothings and everythings, recounting adventures of their youth in a murmur. As he speaks, he lathers her body with soap, starting from her neck and moving downward, erasing everything that stubbornly clings to her from the past day’s events. Moving down her arms, he kisses her elbow softly. Eventually he kneels before her to clean her thighs and calves. He presses a kiss to her right hip as he stands, reaching for her shampoo and massaging it into her hair, careful to avoid getting any into her eyes.

“You’ve grown your hair out,” he says. “It’s different from how you styled it in high school.”

Satine folds herself against him again. “You like it?”

“For the record,” he says as he rinses out the shampoo carefully, “it doesn’t matter what I think. But I do like it. It makes you look…softer, somehow? I always knew, of course, what was hidden underneath the tough exterior, the sharpness. But I like that that part of you is reflected outward as well now.”

He moves on to condition her hair. Once he’s finished, Satine rotates them one hundred and eighty degrees, so that he is now under the showerhead, and she reaches for the shampoo, lathering it between her hands before massaging it through his hair. Then she pulls back, curious, and his hands drop to her waist.

“Do you have a special shampoo for your beard? I’ve never done this before with someone who has facial hair.”

“Sometime I want to ask you about that second sentence,” says Ben, and Satine’s curiosity is now reflected in his gaze. “But as for the first.” He chuckles. “Yes. Regular shampoo dries out the skin of my jaw. Just leave it for now.”

“And do you use conditioner?” Satine asks as she rinses his hair.

“Every so often,” says Ben. “But that, too, can be left for another time.”

And he turns them around again so that Satine is under the shower’s spray.

“Better?” he asks, pulling her against him.

She nods. “Much.”

---

Fifteen minutes later, they’re back downstairs again, tangled on the couch. Ben sets his phone down, having just submitted an order for delivery.

“I’m sorry I cut your trip short,” says Satine. “How much did it cost to move your flight up? I’ll pay you back.”

“Apology not accepted,” Ben says, his tone as gentle as his lips on her temple. “Nor will I accept any monetary compensation. This is what we do, Satine. Fake relationship or not, you’re my partner.”

She feels both warm and wary at the statement, the acknowledgement of what they are to each other. But at the same time, his words bring up what she has been steeling herself to tell him.

“Malek knows,” she whispers, and Ben tenses against her. “He’s been following me. Been following us. He was there that day - Valentine’s Day. Do you remember checking into the next row of books when the floorboards creaked? I think that was him. He has recordings.”

“Did he play them for you? How do you know?”

“I mean, the recordings could be a bluff, but I wouldn’t count on it. He used the words ‘a madness shared by two.’ It’s not a common enough phrase that I think it could have been a coincidence.”

Ben scrubs a hand over his face, looking suddenly pained, the expression he’d worn when they’d first gone out for drinks with Quinlan and Asajj, when Satine had first alluded to her troubles with the State Department. It’s unnerving, and Satine swears she can feel her heart pulsing in her chest.

“What is it?” she says.

He hesitates. Then -

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ben asks eventually, and the words sound like agony incarnate, but Satine is not following.

“Ben, what are you talking about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Satine? Why didn’t you tell me that you were being blackmailed by the Secretary of State?”

Satine pulls back slightly.

He cannot know this.

She feels the blood drain from her face, feels her stomach drop, as Ben continues. “When you first spoke about it, I assumed it was standard that you couldn’t give details, given the classified nature of whatever you were working on. But the threat Malek gave you in your office - that was above and beyond what any government agency should do to protect their secrets.”

Satine stands up, and then she backs up a step, needing space, needing distance.

She’d been careful; she’d not let anything slip. There’s no way Ben could have learned of this from her. So she voices the only other explanation she can think of for how he’d learned of the threat against her.

“You weren’t in Wisconsin this week, were you?”

Ben blinks at her. “What?”

Satine takes another step back. “You went somewhere to dig into this. Your advisor worked for the CIA - did that mean you did as well? Did you reach out to contacts there who looked into this for you?”

Ben stands and reaches for her, but he grabs her elbow - the same elbow that Malek had grabbed - and only realizes this too late.

Satine jumps back. “Don’t - ” she hisses at him.

Ben steps away from her, hands raised in apology. “I’m sorry - my mind blanked.” He swallows. “I’m sorry," he repeats. "But…Satine, no - of course I was in Madison. I didn’t lie to you about where I went.”

“You promised you wouldn’t look into it,” says Satine, and she hates the way her voice rises, but she can’t help it. He’s endangered himself by his inability to leave well enough alone. “Ben, you said this was mine. It was the one thing I begged you to leave be. The one thing! You promised!”

She’s shaking, adrenaline back to the level it was earlier in the day, and she puts more space in between them.

Maybe she’d been right all those years ago when she’d walked away and never looked back. Because even if it had been the most painful thing she’d ever experienced, if she’d stayed her course, she never would have experienced this. And this is lethal.

“You promised,” she whispers.

How will she ever be safe with him if he's broken the first promise he made to her in two decades?

Ben’s expression is bewilderment twisted with anger. “I didn’t break any promises, Satine!” he says. Desperation rolls off him in waves, surrounding his words and his every movement.

“How did you find out about the blackmail, then?” hisses Satine, and her eyes have welled with moisture, making it difficult to see clearly.

Ben runs a hand through his still-wet hair. He closes his eyes and then breathes in deeply. Then he heads for his backpack, and Satine’s heart drops.

So this is it.

Her breath hitches.

He’s really leaving.

She folds her arms across her chest, hugging herself, trying to hold herself together for the second time that day. She'd only barely survived losing him once. She doesn't think she'll be able to put her heart together again if she loses him a second time.

But then the most miraculous thing happens.

Ben doesn’t pick up the backpack. Instead, he opens it, rummages inside it, and stands back up. In his hand is a voice recorder - exactly the same model she herself uses for key informant interviews, one with a USB component to store audio files - and a pair of small headphones.

“I didn’t break any promises,” Ben repeats. “I went to Wisconsin to meet my late advisor’s life partner. She gave me his voice recorder and his written notes. I listened to his interviews on the plane coming back here.”

He takes a step forward, holding out the recorder to her.

“My advisor didn’t work for the Agency,” Ben says, his voice low. “But that doesn’t mean what Quigon found wasn’t a threat to national security. He interviewed diplomats who were declared persona non grata by the United States,” he continues, using the term for officials who have been banned from traveling to America. “That’s what his research focused on. He was in Russia to interview three people in particular: Russian-born diplomats who had tried and failed to become American citizens. Do you know what he found?”

Satine shakes her head and reaches out to take the recorder. Ben steps back to give her more space.

“The interviews are from 2018, about a year after the current administration took office. The administration who appointed the current SecState.”

Ben speaks slowly, calmly.

“The three people Quigon interviewed were - at the time - permanent residents of the United States. But after a year working at the Department of State, suddenly their green card statuses were revoked. They were deported.”

Satine’s spine straightens, and the air turns eerie. “Why?” she whispers, but she thinks she already knows.

“Because they decided they didn’t want to live with the threat of blackmail over their heads for the rest of their lives. In those interviews, they describe the reports they wrote that never got cleared for publication by the department. Is that what happened to you?”

She doesn’t need to answer for Ben to know he’s correct.

“These persona non grata - two of them found evidence that SecState was facilitating military conflicts abroad. In some cases, SecState even initiated them. The third person found proof that SecState was being generously reimbursed for his troubles by Mockheed Lartin.”

“The weapons contractor,” says Satine.

Ben nods. “From there, it wasn’t a leap to guess what SecState did to you.” He takes a tentative step forward. “I didn’t break any promises, Satine. I swear to you. I swear.”

Satine holds the voice recorder to her chest, gripping it tightly. “I believe you,” she whispers, and she lets herself sink to the floor.

Ben, of course, is there to catch her before she tumbles down, and he softens her fall, cradling her against him.

“I wish you would have told me,” he whispers into her hair.

“How could I have?” she says, her voice breaking. “Ben, he’s untouchable. He could bury everything I’ve worked for with one phone call. And then Malek today - he made it clear your career would be collateral if I told you. If I brought you in. And now that you know - SecState is going to find a way to make this a legal hell for you, Ben. To the outside observer, it looks like we’re committing fraud to speed up my path to becoming a citizen.”

“Bullshit,” says Ben. “That won’t hold up in court, and the Secretary knows it. Us getting married would have no effect on your citizenship application. If this was years ago, that might be true. But you’ve lived here long enough now that getting married to a citizen won’t make one iota of difference.”

Satine ponders this. “Maybe, but we both know the courts are not infallible. They don’t make the right decisions one hundred percent of the time.”

“So let them try. We have something Palpatine and Malek didn’t anticipate - the recordings and the notes. If they want to raise legal hell, I’ll call that bet. And you and I happen to have connections to the best immigration lawyer turned Congressional representative this country has ever seen.”

Satine’s thoughts wander, and Padma’s words echo in her mind.

“Anakin says Ben is the happiest he’s ever seen him, and Ben is the closest thing Anakin has ever had to a father. Ben’s our family, and if you’re Ben’s family, then you’re my family, too.”

“Padma,” Satine whispers in realization.

Ben hugs her tightly.

“Does Tahl have a copy of everything?” Satine asks.

Ben nods. “Yes. Several. Each stored in secure locations in different states.”

Satine looks at him, relief flowing through her very veins. For the first time since they’d parted eighteen years ago, she feels completely and utterly…

Safe.

“So what’s our plan now?”

“Stay the course,” he says firmly. “Take your citizenship exam in June, but beware that you might fail again. I suspect your first exam was fixed, so your second probably will be, too. If you fail, we’ll talk about what to do. But for now, you are a permanent resident. So the plan is to proceed…as we have planned. You move into my place at the end of June. We get engaged in early September. And then we interview for new jobs. If SecState goes on the attack, we have everything we need. Because Quinlan was right - who says pacifists can’t defend themselves?”

And there’s nothing to do but throw her arms around his shoulders and bury her face in the crook of his neck.

Ben holds her as the rest of the tension leaves her body.

---

The next day, Satine is initially wary when Ben suggests visiting the Tidal Basin to see the cherry blossoms.

Her next thought is that if yesterday hadn’t happened, she would jump at the chance to stroll around with Ben and marvel at flowers, and she’ll be damned if she lets Malek take anything more from her than he already has.

So they each grab a light jacket, and Ben grabs his advisor’s notebook and voice recorder and slips them into Satine’s purse. “Out of an abundance of caution,” he says, “we’re going to drop these off with Quinlan and Ventress on our way. Ventress will know the safest place to store them.”

Satine nods, and they head out to catch their bus.

A quarter of an hour later, Ben pulls the stop request cord as the bus nears Quinlan and Asajj’s neighborhood, and they disembark, Satine following as he leads the way to a brownstone. He passes through the front gate, holding it open for her, and together they walk up the path. Ben doesn't even have to knock - Asajj is sitting at the reading nook at the bay window, and she opens the door as they approach. She gestures them inside without a word.

As Ben explains to Asajj in hushed tones and hands her the notebook and the voice recorder, Quinlan approaches and wraps Satine in a warm hug. Without thinking about it, Satine leans into his embrace.

“How are you doing?” Quinlan says gently, letting her go.

Satine shrugs. “As good as can be expected,” she says. “Thanks.” She looks around. It’s dark and moody, with mahogany stairs and doors and matching hardwood floors, as well as shelf after shelf lined from floor to ceiling with books and pottery and other cultural artwork. “You have a lovely home.”

“You want to stay for a while?” Quinlan asks.

Satine sighs. “I'm afraid my emotional battery is running on empty, so I’ll take a rain check,” she admits. “But thank you.”

Asajj nods. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Ben glances at them both. “Thank you. Truly.”

This time, Asajj’s expression is carefully neutral. “For what?”

Ben laughs and grabs Satine’s hand. “Told you there’d be no place safer.”

They depart and head back to the bus stop, catching a different bus in the other direction. Satine leans into Ben as they settle into their seats, his arm a welcome weight on her shoulders as the bus heads toward the National Mall. Their route takes them past the National Museum of African American History and Culture, and then the Washington Monument. As the bus turns onto Independence Avenue, they stand, filing off along with folks who appear to be tourists.

Their walk to the Tidal Basin takes them directly in front of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. Ben grips her hand a little bit tighter as they walk past it. Satine’s been inside the museum before, of course - no scholar in her field hasn’t been - but she has no desire to enter today. It’s full of triggers and she’s not in the right headspace to face them. She breathes out as they finally reach the Tidal Basin.

It’s stunning and alive with activity, mostly tourists but also a fair few District residents, the latter easily differentiated by their lack of souvenir bags. She and Ben walk in companionable silence. When they’ve made their way around most of the Basin and then back, they walk toward in the direction they’d come, toward the National Mall. But instead of heading to the bus stop, Ben twines his arm around hers.

“Indulge me for a moment.”

So of course she follows him.

He leads her to the Smithsonian Castle, the signature building of the Smithsonian Institution. It’s currently closed for renovations, but Ben guides her behind the building, where lush magnolia trees are the centerpieces of an ornate garden.

While still busy with tourists, this garden is far less chaotic, and Satine and Ben are able to find a bench under one particularly gorgeous magnolia tree. Satine sits gratefully, and Ben sprawls out beside her, lying down on his back, his head in her lap.

Her thoughts wander again, jumping from topic to topic. Finally, she lands on one that feels safe, and she speaks.

“Your birthday is coming up,” Satine says, looking down at him. “Thirty-seven rotations around the sun. Congratulations on another successful year of cellular respiration.”

Ben snickers. “I’ll be quite sad to say goodbye to thirty-six,” he admits. “It’s treated me incredibly well, on the whole.” Then he considers. “But perhaps thirty-seven will be better. I only got to spend a small portion of thirty-six with you, after all.”

She flicks his nose, albeit gently. “Flirt.”

He catches her hand with his and lays both on his heart.

A memory suddenly flashes in her mind: them, in a similar position, at a similar time of year.

“I didn’t know what to get you,” Satine admits, looking down at his head in her lap, her hand on his chest.

Ben hushes her. “I told you; I didn’t want anything.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, well, we both know that’s rubbish.”

She considers her next words before she says them.

“I didn’t want to get you something that you’d have to lug off to college. But I wanted you to have something of me. A part of me.”

He looks at her curiously.

Satine takes a deep breath. “I’m bi,” she says quickly, her voice higher than usual.

“I mean, obviously,” says Ben, grinning, not even missing a beat.

“You knew?” Satine gapes at him. “But I’ve never told that to anyone before! I only realized it myself a few months ago.”

He laughs. “I knew because we’re mirrors, you and I,” he says.

She arches a brow. “You’re bi, too?”

“I mean, I think so?” He shrugs. “I seem to be attracted to folks of both my gender and genders that aren’t mine. It’s not like I’ve really acted on any of those feelings or explored them, so…I don’t know for sure.”

Satine wipes at her eyes, feeling betrayed by the moisture she finds there. “I was so worried about how you’d react.”

Ben sits up suddenly and pulls her close. “How long have we been together, Satine?” He brushes away a tear that threatens to fall from her eye.

“Almost two years,” she whispers.

“And you don’t know by now that you needn’t have worried? Silly of you, really.” He kisses her. “Knowing the deepest parts of you is the best birthday present.” And he kisses her again. “Thank you.”

She’s brought back to the present when Ben speaks.

“You know this about me, and you encourage it.”

It’s her turn to laugh, and she does so freely. Then she reaches down to grab a fallen magnolia blossom, and she tucks it behind his ear.

“I’m still not any good at birthday presents,” she admits.

He gives her a confused look. “The last one you gave me is still my most cherished birthday present ever.”

And he reaches up to rest his hand over her heart.

It suddenly begins to beat overtime, in anticipation of the words Satine knows she’s about to speak. “Well,” she says, “in the spirit of birthday presents - or slightly early birthday presents - you were curious about a statement I made last night.” She breathes in. “I haven’t been physically involved with many men since…we parted all those years ago.” At his encouraging look, she continues. “At least recently, I’ve tended to favor women.”

He grabs her hands with both of his and kisses both sets of knuckles, waiting for her to continue.

“I actually…” She laughs as she considers, continuing quietly. “I actually thought perhaps I was wrong about being attracted to men. Because you were really the only one who had kept my interest for any length of time.” She hesitates at how to best say her next thought. “Present company excluded, in my experience men tend to be…less fastidious lovers.”

He smirks. “Present company excluded,” he repeats. “I’m glad I can be the exception to my sex.”

She rolls her eyes. “Anyway,” she says, “eventually I realized I am in fact physically attracted to men, just as I am to women, but curiously…I am not romantically attracted to either. There has been, and continues to be, one exception. Obviously.”

Ben sits up so that their eyes are level.

“You’re aromantic?”

“Somewhere on that spectrum,” she confirms, and he just grins. “What?”

“I should have guessed. You had to be reminded of Valentine’s Day, after all.”

It is, Satine can admit, fairly funny.

Ben leans in to kiss her, his hand cupping her jaw. “I am absolutely going to allow this to fuel my ego,” he says against her lips. “I’m literally the only person in the world - regardless of gender - that Satine Kryze has ever been romantically attracted to.”

She groans. “Insufferable man.”

“Headstrong woman.”

She pulls her lips back slightly, still resting her forehead against his.

“But in the spirit of reciprocity,” Ben says, “I’d also like to give you a very early birthday present.”

Satine pulls back so she can properly see his expression.

Ben grins. “It turns out, interestingly, that I’m not bi - at least, not in the way I thought I was when I was eighteen.” He shrugs. “As to be expected, I still had a lot to learn at that age. I mean, I was right in my understanding that I am attracted to my own gender and other genders equally.”

She frowns at him. “What?”

He laughs. “Equally attracted as in…not attracted to either sexually. I’m asexual. Mostly.”

Satine can’t help the look of confusion that crosses her face.

Ben just laughs again. “Emphasis on mostly. You, my dear, are clearly one of the exceptions.”

The pieces begin to fall into place. “So you’re biromantic and...what? Gray ace?”

“Those are indeed the labels that feel most apt.”

And he lies down again, his head returning to her lap, the magnolia bloom still resting behind his ear.

Satine rests a hand on his chest. “Can I ask about…”

He understands before she figures out what she’s even asking. “I experimented a bit in college,” he says. “There was one man, and - later - one woman. Both piqued my romantic interest, but imagine my surprise to find the sexual attraction was nowhere to be found.”

Satine traces his collarbone as he continues.

“I was celibate for many years after that,” he continues, voice low. A light breeze floats past them, bringing the scent of the magnolia blooms past. “It wasn’t something I really noticed, or even thought about much. My life didn’t feel different without sex. I just…didn’t need it. The next - and last - time I was with someone who wasn’t you was Ventress, of course. And that didn’t last, for reasons I’ve already told you about.”

Satine threads her fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes at her touch.

“I haven’t dated anyone since you,” she says. “I thought I wanted to, but no one was really interesting enough to want to continuously keep seeing, at least in a romantic capacity. I had a few casual relationships, ones that both parties acknowledged were purely physical. They were nice, but that was all it was. And I also…” She smiles at how similar they are. “Like you, I didn’t find that I really missed that part in my life. I didn’t need a romantic relationship the way that my close friends seemed to need one, like how Breha felt before she found Bail.” She shrugs. “Before I learned that aromanticism was a thing, I just always assumed I wasn’t programmed the same way everyone else was. Which, I guess, wasn’t a bad way to view it.”

Ben smiles, his eyes still closed.

“We really are like mirrors, aren’t we?” he says.

Satine traces his lips.

“Yes,” she says.

She can’t help the smile that breaks across her own face.

“I suppose we are.”

#satine kryze #obi-wan kenobi #star wars fanfic #obitine #the clone wars #alternate universe #ptsd

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