#like nothing can contain the multitudes of what and who i am but man feels like a gokd word

[gold-rhine]

sub!Diluc x Dom! gn! reader

Warnings: very much not safe for w, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, minors get out of here. But also, some unabashed fluff. Yes, it contains multitudes.

words: 3,2k.

A\n: repost since my previous blog got shadowbanned

Listen, i know everyone hcs Diluc as a dom. And he can be a very nice service dom, but I’m here to convince you that sub!Diluc is actually not OOC.

First of all, he’s more repressed than a catholic nun. Diluc is like on six levels of dissociation at any given moment. He sees his body as a flesh suit he’s piloting that requires an inconvenient maintenance like sleep, food and occasional sexual release. He’ll jerk off by himself like it’s a chore.

Diluc is so touch starved it’s ridiculous, and *he doesn’t even know it*, that’s how much he’s disconnected from his needs.

And like. Helping ppl like that discover what they actually want and watching them come undone in pleasure they didn’t know they desired is so delicious. If you know, you know, there’s nothing quite like it.

But you have to go slow with him

I mean first of all, you shouldn’t mess with Diluc at all if you’re not in for a long haul, this man doesn’t do casual.

Oh, he’ll agree to try if he’s already into you, he’s incredibly indulging to the people he values. But also because at first he’ll be incredibly defensive.

Not because he’s not into it. Just as a defense mechanism, as he thinks he’ll disappoint you and he’s preparing for a failure from the start.

Diluc can see any activity with his important people as a trial where his performance will be evaluated. He is one of these “I need to get a good grade in X which is both normal to want and possible to achieve” people.

Remember the coffeeshop event where he was like “When I was a small child, my father told me to mix my first drink using all of the ingredients in the tavern. In hindsight, it was probably to see how creative I am and I must’ve failed because I just made a fruit punch and my father didn’t say if I did well”?

Like, Diluc. Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Your dad probably just wanted you to have fun in an improvised “take your kid to work” event. He didn’t judge your punch because it was about spending quality time together and letting you play with colorful syrups. Who the fuck would evaluate a small child’s creativity on the first time they mix drinks. You think he expected you to invent Pina Colada?

So yeah, he will see even getting edged as a thing he’s not proficient in, so he’s most likely to fail and disappoint you. And that’s one of the worst things he can imagine.

Because being useful is Diluc’s love language. If you read his voicelines or talk to him in teapot, you can notice how he’s very focused on doing things for you, like he’ll invent a drink specifically for you and keeps repeating that you should tell him if you need anything, but at the same time, he “doesn’t do chit chat” and wants to leave if there’s nothing for him to do.

Because Diluc knows he’s not easygoing or fun to be around. He has his charming brother who makes it seem effortless to compare himself with. He knows he’s kind of awkward, intense, brooding and direct to the point of coming off as rude. So he needs to feel like he’s doing something useful for you to justify spending time with you.

So for his first time, don’t tease him verbally. He’s incredibly teasable, I know. But he’s already very anxious about disappointing you even if he tries to hide it and he was conditioned to clamp up at the first sign of perceived mockery by his troll brother. Show him first how good it can feel before you start playing with him.

also, he obviously has a praise kink that he’s not even aware of. like, it’s not even up for discussion, praise from other people and approval from his dad are literally described as his main motivations

“The praise he received from his comrades and citizens spurred him on. But the words of praise he valued most of all were: "Good job. Now, that's my son." His father's words fueled the fire inside his heart and served as his greatest motivation.“ and sure, after he lost his dad and emotionally closed off, he doesn’t allow himself to rely on approval of others. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it.

You can tie his hands, but honestly I think it’s much more fun to just order him to keep his hands up. He’s so stubborn, it’ll be a matter of pride for him to keep his composure. And it will also make it that much more delicious to see it finally break.

When you tell him that he must ask for permission to finish, he just scoffs. He’s so sure he wouldn’t be reduced to that.

Don’t expect him to dissolve into stereotypical meowling and begging when you first start touching him. Again, he’s much too stubborn. He’s coming into this defensive and he wants to be in control of himself.

But hear me out - it actually makes it more fun to tease him. Diluc tries to keep himself still, but no amount of willpower will make him less sensitive and, again, touch starved to hell and back.

So at first, it’s the little things that betray him. How when you kiss his neck, his throat moves under your lips in a shaky intake of a breath, How the taut muscles of his scarred arms flex when you run your hands over his chest. How he draws in his stomach when you slide your fingers down it, slow, tantalizingly slow, making light patterns with just your fingertips. How he avoids your eyes because you haven’t even touched his cock yet and he’s already so obviously, painfully hard.

He has a beautiful cock, big and with a nice curve, and as for all pale redheads, it becomes brilliantly red when aroused. When you finally touch him, slowly stroking it up from the base to the tip, he draws in a breath through the clenched teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. You watch him struggle as you start pumping his dick faster and faster, his jaw clenching, his breath and heartbeat quickening, sweat beads forming on his forehead, his shoulders and hips flinching as he tries to keep himself from arching up and thrusting into your hand.

He’s fighting a losing battle and both of you know it by now. You could break him right here if you wanted. You squeeze and rub the sensitive tip of his cock, and see him open his mouth in a silent, chocked gasp for air. He manages to keep himself from clenching his fists, but his knuckles whiten when he desperately scraps his fingertips against the bedsheets.

But you don’t want him to feel like he lost a fight, it’s not about that, it was never about that. Even shame should feel good. You caress his high, sculpted cheekbones with your thumb, your other hand still on his cock. “‘Luc, look at me.”

He can’t disobey you, but he has to take a deep breath before he can open his eyes. He meets your gaze, anxious. What’s he going to see, mockery over how pathetically quick he’s breaking down? Disappointment for how bad and inexperienced he is at this? Just a cold, severe rejection?

“You look so beautiful, baby,” you tell him quietly and breath catches in his throat, his pupils widening, his cock twitching in your hand. You kiss the trail from his sharp jawline up to his ear, allowing him to turn away. “Do you enjoy this? Do you want me to keep going?" you smile warmly when he whips his head back to look at you and meet his dazed crimson eyes. “I just want you to feel good.”

This reframes the entire scene for him in a one fell swoop, turning it upside down, leaving him disoriented. It wasn’t a challenge that he was losing, or a trial that he was failing, him giving in to his desires was what you wanted all along? You enjoy seeing his pleasure, even if he’s not being useful to you in return? It seems impossible to him, yet when you look at him like this, when you touch him like this, like he’s precious and wanted, when he knows he’s broken and undeserving… it feels intoxicating and liberating at once, in a way he couldn’t imagine before. He realizes at this moment how badly he wants this, even if he still doesn’t understand how far he’s willing to go for it.

“I… ugh, I… like it,” Diluc swallows harshly, his mouth suddenly dry, and if you thought he was blushing before, now the pink dust on his cheeks turns into a brilliant scarlet glow, covering his face, neck and even top of his shoulders. He clearly wants to look away in embarrassment, but makes himself hold your gaze. “If you… enjoy this too and… want to go on…”

You rake your eyes over him, sprawled in front of you, and smile, meeting his gaze again. “Of course I enjoy it. You look so fucking hot like this.” his eyes widen and his lips part, you can feel his tip leaking in your hand, his entire body strung up like a bowstring. He doesn’t know what to answer and he couldn’t talk even if he did, so when you lower your head down to kiss him he answers eagerly, with passion and gratitude he can’t express in words. You start pumping his cock again, now faster and with a firmer grip, and drink in his abrupt gasp against your mouth, as he freezes for a second and then returns the kiss with twice the abandon. This time he doesn’t try to fight it, his body trembling under you, his hips bucking up to meet your hand, his hands closing into fists, toes curling.

He breaks the kiss when you twist your palm against his pulsing tip, and he cries out, low and strangled, his entire body arching up, but his unfocused eyes find yours immediately, his gaze frantic, almost feverish. He’s going far outside his comfort zone, he’s relinquishing control and he’s so unused to this, he trained himself for years to do the opposite of this, to see it as a failure, so he needs your repeated reassurance to soothe his anxiety, to prove he didn’t imagine your desire few moments ago.

You lean down to him without breaking eye contact. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re being so good for me.”

It shoots through him, bypassing the brain entirely, through the entire nerve system and right down to the cock, like only discovering a kink you were entirely oblivious to before can. His body goes rigid and he comes, with a choked, shuddering groan.

You stroke him through it, until he limply falls back on the bed, spent and panting. He reaches for you and you let him pull you in, hold him while he’s coming back to his senses, run fingers through his soft hair. When he opens his eyes, he looks at you with a small, almost sheepish smile, and it’s impossible to resist kissing him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, stroking his cheek and he leans into your palm.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answers immediately, then realizes how it sounds and tries to correct. “I mean, I’m better than fine. I’m... I feel good.”

You chuckle and his eyes flicker to watch your mouth, then throw you a glance from under half-lowered lids. It’s enjoyable seeing him open like this, but what you really want is seeing him come undone. He doesn’t look tired and you know he can go on for much longer, but today it’s more a question of mental state than stamina.

“You want to go for another round?” you ask softly him and he blushes lightly.

“Well, I did technically… um, break a promise to ask for permission in the end,” he says with the same small smile that grows even more sheepish as he tries to avoid admitting he desperately wants more. “So it’s only fair if I remedy that.”

“Oh, of course. Honorable as always. So noble of you, Master Diluc,” you run your fingers over his abs, spreading cum all over them, and his brilliant blush returns in full force. But he doesn’t stop smiling, trusting your good intentions, that you’re mocking the hierarchy of ranks and not him personally. You kiss the corner of his mouth to reassure him, and his smile grows wider.

“Well, you can’t be successful in the commercial trade if you’re not answering for your obligations,” he says, trying and failing to keep a straight face. He really does recover very quickly, you think, if he can already banter. “The Wine Guild would kick me out if they learned I’d backed down on a deal.”

“Well, at least I know I can complain to the Wine Guild if you misbehave then,” your voice is still light, but you catch his chin and lift it up firmly, and he tenses up immediately.

He looks up at you, eyes intense as always, but now glittering in anticipation and tracking your every move, bangs tousled and lips parted for you to claim. You kiss him, messily, greedily, slide your fingers to the back of his head and pull on his hair, forcing him to expose his throat for you. You leave the trail of sloppy kisses and scraped teeth down from his jaw to the collarbones before you let go of his hair and allow him to collapse.

When your hand finds his cock, it’s already half-hard, throbbing. red. This time, you don’t go slowly, you grab it and start pumping it fast. He shudders, still so sensitive after a recent orgasm, and instinctively tries to close his legs.

You don’t force them open, instead, you catch his chin and meet his eyes again. “No,” you say slowly. “Open up for me.”

The thing about Diluc is that he doesn’t do anything by halves if he sets his mind to it. Once he opens up, he burns for you with the same single-minded dedication as he does fighting enemies in the night. He might not know how to ask for help, pleasure or affection, but he sure knows how to give and to give everything he’s got. Do not ask to have him if you want anything less than the whole.

He grits his teeth, his eyes smoldering crimson, and forces himself to spread his legs again, against his basic reflexes. The touch to his overstimulated dick is painful and igniting at the same time, it feels equal parts wrecking and delightful.

You smile and praise him and pump him even harder and faster than before, and he trashes in front of you, muttering a litany of half-choked curses, throwing his head from side to side, hands clawing at the sheets, thighs shaking, but staying open.

You asked for him and you shall have him, no matter what.

It’s still not enough for you, though.

You sprawl on your side against him, circling one arm around his shoulders, still stroking him with the other. The fight goes out of him. He blindly leans into you, trembling, a small whine caught in his throat. When you kiss him, his mouth is soft and pliant, but his hands clutch at you desperately, like a drowning man trying to hold on to the solid ground.

It drives you crazy to watch him writhe under you, completely unravelled, glowing brightly from feverish desire, scarlet silk of his tangled hair sprawled on the sheets, his hips bucking frantically into your hand.

You whisper sweet, tender praises to him, caress his face, neck and shoulders like he’s the most precious and fragile thing in the world, at the same time as your other hand relentlessly winds him up, squeezes his overstimulated, pulsing cock harshly, twists the leaking tip. The pain punctuates desire, a delirious contrast of torturously sweet and deliciously cruel.

His fingers dig into you, holding you close. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, clings to you, seeking comfort and shelter from the same sweet, unbearable torture that is also inflicted by you. The pleasure melts him, but the pain splits him open, wrecks him to the core, he wants this to end, and he wants this to never stop. More than anything, he wants to be yours.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re perfect,” you tell him and you mean it.

He breathes in through his mouth, drawing in your scent. “Please,” he gasps so quietly, you could’ve missed it if not for his lips moving against your neck. “Please, let me…please…”

Next time, you might demand more. Next time, you might make him spell it out completely, what exactly he begs you for. But this is his first time and he was already so brave for you.

“Yes, baby. You’ve been so fucking good. Come for me.”

He comes immediately and so hard, his entire body is shaking, the strangled scream caught in his throat. You keep stroking him, letting him ride it out through increasingly frantic and desperate thrusts, squeeze every last drop out of him until he collapses, limp and shivering, but still clinging to you.

You hold him, stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, whisper to him softly until he stops trembling and his breath evens out. You realize that he’s too weak now to get to the bath, so you stand up to get something to help, but he reaches out, catches your wrist immediately.

“It’s okay, I’ll be back in a second,” you promise. After you clean him up with a wet cloth, he pulls you in and curls around you so possessively and needy, you can’t help but smile. He’s fighting a losing battle to stay awake, the endless sleepless nights finally catching up with him, now that he lowered his guard for a moment and let his body feel alive. But there’s one thing he needs to ask, suddenly apprehensive now that the rush of lust passed.

“Did you… Was I… Ugh, damn. Would you perhaps?..” he stumbles over his words, not knowing how to phrase his concern that he wasn’t good enough for you and you just indulged him. You stop him mercifully.

“I *did* enjoy it. You *were* incredible. And yes, I would very much love to do this again.”

“Oh,” he says, relaxing against you, the same precious small smile appearing on his face again, now more content than sheepish. You chuckle, stroking his face.

“Besides, you did break my order to keep your hands up. You’ll have to suffer the punishment, or the Wine Guild will need to hear about this.”

He snorts indignantly and blushes at the same time. For the first time in many, many nights he falls asleep with a light heart and a smile still tugging at his lips.

#rhine writes filth #rhine writes #genshin impact smut #sub genshin #sub diluc #dom reader #diluc

[ghouljams]

reading (indulging in) your fae!Price fic and i keep thinking about that time when Gaz tapped Witch and all the commotion with her then simply enquiring ‘Price?’ while her nose bleeds… and then she lets that motherfucker inside her house again so he can help her help him fix what he did (this is one of my fav moments because they’re being uncommonly fr with each other lmao)

and also you passingly mentioned in one of the posts that Price didn’t do anything good to deserve Witch’s attention and want. and i keep thinking about that. about all men, even the sexiest deadliest fae 141 boys, being/existing at women’s mercy. that’s what im thinking. matriarchy. femdom. (it’s even funnier cause in my language the word “magic” is of female gender). but at the same time, it feels like Price is training her like a dog (with all the commands he’s giving when they fuck for the first time?? rrrr). it’s weiirddddddd

anyway, i can be shameless for them. i’m willing. be on my knees, bark, whatever. if anyone even cares. they are just ajjsjsksksksk rraaah ight imma go now

btw i read your fics like books. on an e-reader, with tea and slowly, to avoid getting over with it too soon. if i binge its not good for digestion, i need to chew on them a little longer. your words are delicious </3

I definitely write the boys being at their love's mercy. There's nothing sexier than a man who is a dog for his darling, just absolutely and stupidly devoted to them. And I will never stop writing women that could kill me because I think they're hot. So, y'know...

Price hasn't done anything good in his life, he's done nothing that the universe would reward with someone like Witch's love, and yet she loves him anyway. Their relationship is really fun to write because they contain multitudes, they feel like real people in a relationship. Their dynamic fluctuates with the situation. Witch is a submissive in bed, but I would never call her a submissive person; Price is dominant in bed, but I would never call him the "boss" in their relationship. They exist in a perpetual give and take like most relationships do. I could talk about the Gaz tapping fic and their first time fic all day. I think there's a lot to unpack with both of them and I am nothing if not a slut for analyzing my own writing.

Anyway I am honored to be on your e-reader, read like a proper piece of fiction and not the ramblings of a madman. Thank you for loving my fic enough to eat it piece by piece. I hope I can keep writing fic that you can chew on <3

#ghoul speaks

[rhine-gold-archive]

sub!Diluc x Dom! gn! reader

Warnings: very much not safe for w, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, minors get out of here. But also, some unabashed fluff. Yes, it contains multitudes.

words: 3,2k.

A\n: This somehow turned into Diluc character study, but I promise I will get to the filth after the psychological profiling. also, I know I tend to write in an authoritative voice like I'm stating facts, but these are just my personal opinions and if you interpret characters differently, more power to you.

Listen, i know everyone hcs Diluc as a dom. And he can be a very nice service dom, but I’m here to convince you that sub!Diluc is actually not OOC.

First of all, he’s more repressed than a catholic nun. Diluc is like on six levels of dissociation at any given moment. He sees his body as a flesh suit he’s piloting that requires an inconvenient maintenance like sleep, food and occasional sexual release. He’ll jerk off by himself like it’s a chore. 

Diluc is so touch starved it’s ridiculous, and *he doesn’t even know it*, that’s how much he’s disconnected from his needs.

And like. Helping ppl like that discover what they actually want and watching them come undone in pleasure they didn’t know they desired is so delicious. If you know, you know, there’s nothing quite like it.

But you have to go slow with him

I mean first of all, you shouldn’t mess with Diluc at all if you’re not in for a long haul, this man doesn’t do casual.

Oh, he’ll agree to try if he’s already into you, he’s incredibly indulging to the people he values. But also because at first he’ll be incredibly defensive.

Not because he’s not into it. Just as a defense mechanism, as he thinks he’ll disappoint you and he’s preparing for a failure from the start.

Diluc can see any activity with his important people as a trial where his performance will be evaluated. He is one of these “I need to get a good grade in X which is both normal to want and possible to achieve” people.

Remember the coffeeshop event where he was like “When I was a small child, my father told me to mix my first drink using all of the ingredients in the tavern. In hindsight, it was probably to see how creative I am and I must’ve failed because I just made a fruit punch and my father didn’t say if I did well”?

Like, Diluc. Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Your dad probably just wanted you to have fun in an improvised “take your kid to work” event. He didn’t judge your punch because it was about spending quality time together and letting you play with colorful syrups. Who the fuck would evaluate a small child’s creativity on the first time they mix drinks. You think he expected you to invent Pina Colada?

So yeah, he will see even getting edged as a thing he’s not proficient in, so he’s most likely to fail and disappoint you. And that’s one of the worst things he can imagine.

Because being useful is Diluc’s love language. If you read his voicelines or talk to him in teapot, you can notice how he’s very focused on doing things for you, like he’ll invent a drink specifically for you and keeps repeating that you should tell him if you need anything, but at the same time, he “doesn’t do chit chat” and wants to leave if there’s nothing for him to do. 

Because Diluc knows he’s not easygoing or fun to be around. He has his charming brother who makes it seem effortless to compare himself with. He knows he’s kind of awkward, intense, brooding and direct to the point of coming off as rude. So he needs to feel like he’s doing something useful for you to justify spending time with you. 

So for his first time, don’t tease him verbally. He’s incredibly teasable, I know. But he’s already very anxious about disappointing you even if he tries to hide it and he was conditioned to clamp up at the first sign of perceived mockery by his troll brother. Show him first how good it can feel before you start playing with him.

also, he obviously has a praise kink that he’s not even aware of. like, it’s not even up for discussion, praise from other people and approval from his dad are literally described as his main motivations

“The praise he received from his comrades and citizens spurred him on. But the words of praise he valued most of all were: "Good job. Now, that's my son." His father's words fueled the fire inside his heart and served as his greatest motivation.“ and sure, after he lost his dad and emotionally closed off, he doesn’t allow himself to rely on approval of others. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it. 

You can tie his hands, but honestly I think it’s much more fun to just order him to keep his hands up. He’s so stubborn, it’ll be a matter of pride for him to keep his composure. And it will also make it that much more delicious to see it finally break.

When you tell him that he must ask for permission to finish, he just scoffs. He’s so sure he wouldn’t be reduced to that.

Don’t expect him to dissolve into stereotypical meowling and begging when you first start touching him. Again, he’s much too stubborn. He’s coming into this defensive and he wants to be in control of himself. 

But hear me out - it actually makes it more fun to tease him. Diluc tries to keep himself still, but no amount of willpower will make him less sensitive and, again, touch starved to hell and back. 

So at first, it’s the little things that betray him. How when you kiss his neck, his throat moves under your lips in a shaky intake of a breath, How the taut muscles of his scarred arms flex when you run your hands over his chest. How he draws in his stomach when you slide your fingers down it, slow, tantalizingly slow, making light patterns with just your fingertips. How he avoids your eyes because you haven’t even touched his cock yet and he’s already so obviously, painfully hard.

He has a beautiful cock, big and with a nice curve, and as for all pale redheads, it becomes brilliantly red when aroused. When you finally touch him, slowly stroking it up from the base to the tip, he draws in a breath through the clenched teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. You watch him struggle as you start pumping his dick faster and faster, his jaw clenching, his breath and heartbeat quickening, sweat beads forming on his forehead, his shoulders and hips flinching as he tries to keep himself from arching up and thrusting into your hand. 

He’s fighting a losing battle and both of you know it by now. You could break him right here if you wanted. You squeeze and rub the sensitive tip of his cock, and see him open his mouth in a silent, chocked gasp for air. He manages to keep himself from clenching his fists, but his knuckles whiten when he desperately scraps his fingertips against the bedsheets. 

But you don’t want him to feel like he lost a fight, it’s not about that, it was never about that. Even shame should feel good. You caress his high, sculpted cheekbones with your thumb, your other hand still on his cock. “‘Luc, look at me.”

He can’t disobey you, but he has to take a deep breath before he can open his eyes. He meets your gaze, anxious. What’s he going to see, mockery over how pathetically quick he’s breaking down? Disappointment for how bad and inexperienced he is at this? Just a cold, severe rejection?

“You look so beautiful, baby,” you tell him quietly and breath catches in his throat, his pupils widening, his cock twitching in your hand. You kiss the trail from his sharp jawline up to his ear, allowing him to turn away. “Do you enjoy this? Do you want me to keep going?" you smile warmly when he whips his head back to look at you and meet his dazed crimson eyes. “I just want you to feel good.”

This reframes the entire scene for him in a one fell swoop, turning it upside down, leaving him disoriented. It wasn’t a challenge that he was losing, or a trial that he was failing, him giving in to his desires was what you wanted all along? You enjoy seeing his pleasure, even if he’s not being useful to you in return? It seems impossible to him, yet when you look at him like this, when you touch him like this, like he’s precious and wanted, when he knows he’s broken and undeserving… it feels intoxicating and liberating at once, in a way he couldn’t imagine before. He realizes at this moment how badly he wants this, even if he still doesn’t understand how far he’s willing to go for it.

“I… ugh, I… like it,” Diluc swallows harshly, his mouth suddenly dry, and if you thought he was blushing before, now the pink dust on his cheeks turns into a brilliant scarlet glow, covering his face, neck and even top of his shoulders. He clearly wants to look away in embarrassment, but makes himself hold your gaze. “If you… enjoy this too and… want to go on…”

You rake your eyes over him, sprawled in front of you, and smile, meeting his gaze again. “Of course I enjoy it. You look so fucking hot like this.” his eyes widen and his lips part, you can feel his tip leaking in your hand, his entire body strung up like a bowstring. He doesn’t know what to answer and he couldn’t talk even if he did, so when you lower your head down to kiss him he answers eagerly, with passion and gratitude he can’t express in words. You start pumping his cock again, now faster and with a firmer grip, and drink in his abrupt gasp against your mouth, as he freezes for a second and then returns the kiss with twice the abandon. This time he doesn’t try to fight it, his body trembling under you, his hips bucking up to meet your hand, his hands closing into fists, toes curling. 

He breaks the kiss when you twist your palm against his pulsing tip, and he cries out, low and strangled, his entire body arching up, but his unfocused eyes find yours immediately, his gaze frantic, almost feverish. He’s going far outside his comfort zone, he’s relinquishing control and he’s so unused to this, he trained himself for years to do the opposite of this, to see it as a failure, so he needs your repeated reassurance to soothe his anxiety, to prove he didn’t imagine your desire few moments ago.

You lean down to him without breaking eye contact. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re being so good for me.”

It shoots through him, bypassing the brain entirely, through the entire nerve system and right down to the cock, like only discovering a kink you were entirely oblivious to before can. His body goes rigid and he comes, with a choked, shuddering groan. 

You stroke him through it, until he limply falls back on the bed, spent and panting. He reaches for you and you let him pull you in, hold him while he’s coming back to his senses, run fingers through his soft hair. When he opens his eyes, he looks at you with a small, almost sheepish smile, and it’s impossible to resist kissing him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, stroking his cheek and he leans into your palm.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answers immediately, then realizes how it sounds and tries to correct. “I mean, I’m better than fine. I’m... I feel good.”

You chuckle and his eyes flicker to watch your mouth, then throw you a glance from under half-lowered lids. It’s enjoyable seeing him open like this, but what you really want is seeing him come undone. He doesn’t look tired and you know he can go on for much longer, but today it’s more a question of mental state than stamina. 

“You want to go for another round?” you ask softly him and he blushes lightly.

“Well, I did technically… um, break a promise to ask for permission in the end,” he says with the same small smile that grows even more sheepish as he tries to avoid admitting he desperately wants more. “So it’s only fair if I remedy that.”

“Oh, of course. Honorable as always. So noble of you, Master Diluc,” you run your fingers over his abs, spreading cum all over them, and his brilliant blush returns in full force. But he doesn’t stop smiling, trusting your good intentions, that you’re mocking the hierarchy of ranks and not him personally. You kiss the corner of his mouth to reassure him, and his smile grows wider.

“Well, you can’t be successful in the commercial trade if you’re not answering for your obligations,” he says, trying and failing to keep a straight face. He really does recover very quickly, you think, if he can already banter. “The Wine Guild would kick me out if they learned I’d backed down on a deal.”

“Well, at least I know I can complain to the Wine Guild if you misbehave then,” your voice is still light, but you catch his chin and lift it up firmly, and he tenses up immediately. 

He looks up at you, eyes intense as always, but now glittering in anticipation and tracking your every move, bangs tousled and lips parted for you to claim. You kiss him, messily, greedily, slide your fingers to the back of his head and pull on his hair, forcing him to expose his throat for you. You leave the trail of sloppy kisses and scraped teeth down from his jaw to the collarbones before you let go of his hair and allow him to collapse. 

When your hand finds his cock, it’s already half-hard, throbbing. red. This time, you don’t go slowly, you grab it and start pumping it fast. He shudders, still so sensitive after a recent orgasm, and instinctively tries to close his legs.

You don’t force them open, instead, you catch his chin and meet his eyes again. “No,” you say slowly. “Open up for me.” 

The thing about Diluc is that he doesn’t do anything by halves if he sets his mind to it. Once he opens up, he burns for you with the same single-minded dedication as he does fighting enemies in the night. He might not know how to ask for help, pleasure or affection, but he sure knows how to give and to give everything he’s got. Do not ask to have him if you want anything less than the whole.

He grits his teeth, his eyes smoldering crimson, and forces himself to spread his legs again, against his basic reflexes. The touch to his overstimulated dick is painful and igniting at the same time, it feels equal parts wrecking and delightful.

You smile and praise him and pump him even harder and faster than before, and he trashes in front of you, muttering a litany of half-choked curses, throwing his head from side to side, hands clawing at the sheets, thighs shaking, but staying open.

You asked for him and you shall have him, no matter what.

It’s still not enough for you, though.

You sprawl on your side against him, circling one arm around his shoulders, still stroking him with the other. The fight goes out of him. He blindly leans into you, trembling, a small whine caught in his throat. When you kiss him, his mouth is soft and pliant, but his hands clutch at you desperately, like a drowning man trying to hold on to the solid ground. 

It drives you crazy to watch him writhe under you, completely unravelled, glowing brightly from feverish desire, scarlet silk of his tangled hair sprawled on the sheets, his hips bucking frantically into your hand. 

You whisper sweet, tender praises to him, caress his face, neck and shoulders like he’s the most precious and fragile thing in the world, at the same time as your other hand relentlessly winds him up, squeezes his overstimulated, pulsing cock harshly, twists the leaking tip. The pain punctuates desire, a delirious contrast of torturously sweet and deliciously cruel.

His fingers dig into you, holding you close. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, clings to you, seeking comfort and shelter from the same sweet, unbearable torture that is also inflicted by you. The pleasure melts him, but the pain splits him open, wrecks him to the core, he wants this to end, and he wants this to never stop. More than anything, he wants to be yours.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re perfect,” you tell him and you mean it.

He breathes in through his mouth, drawing in your scent. “Please,” he gasps so quietly, you could’ve missed it if not for his lips moving against your neck. “Please, let me…please…”

Next time, you might demand more. Next time, you might make him spell it out completely, what exactly he begs you for. But this is his first time and he was already so brave for you.

“Yes, baby. You’ve been so fucking good. Come for me.”

He comes immediately and so hard, his entire body is shaking, the strangled scream caught in his throat. You keep stroking him, letting him ride it out through increasingly frantic and desperate thrusts, squeeze every last drop out of him until he collapses, limp and shivering, but still clinging to you.

You hold him, stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, whisper to him softly until he stops trembling and his breath evens out. You realize that he’s too weak now to get to the bath, so you stand up to get something to help, but he reaches out, catches your wrist immediately.

“It’s okay, I’ll be back in a second,” you promise. After you clean him up with a wet cloth, he pulls you in and curls around you so possessively and needy, you can’t help but smile. He’s fighting a losing battle to stay awake, the endless sleepless nights finally catching up with him, now that he lowered his guard for a moment and let his body feel alive. But there’s one thing he needs to ask, suddenly apprehensive now that the rush of lust passed.

“Did you… Was I… Ugh, damn. Would you perhaps?..” he stumbles over his words, not knowing how to phrase his concern that he wasn’t good enough for you and you just indulged him. You stop him mercifully.

“I *did* enjoy it. You *were* incredible. And yes, I would very much love to do this again.”

“Oh,” he says, relaxing against you, the same precious small smile appearing on his face again, now more content than sheepish. You chuckle, stroking his face. 

“Besides, you did break my order to keep your hands up. You’ll have to suffer the punishment, or the Wine Guild will need to hear about this.”

He snorts indignantly and blushes at the same time. For the first time in many, many nights he falls asleep with a light heart and a smile still tugging at his lips.

a\n: I had fun writing this, so I might make this into sub!character series. Not taking specific requests per se, but you can let me know which adult genshin characters you’d be interested to hear my take on, both male and female.

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #genshin impact #i had to construct an enite psych profile for diluc for another meta post #and barely used evn half of it #so i thought to hell with it lets have some fun #btw short sleeves in birthday art? #plus 50 sub energy sorry i don't male the rules #rhine writes filth

[saintbleeding]

Saint. Best beloved. Give me number 8 in the spicy takes meme. Obviously for tma. Be correct about sth. You know you want to. 😘

8: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

ough............... ok at the risk of this being like. legitimately combative (and with the disclaimer that i love him he is me i am he and i would not ever change a thing about him in either a watsonian or doylist sense).

i dont think jon did Literally Nothing Wrong per se? i think, esp in like, s1-3, he chooses what is essentially the best and most sensible option from where he's standing at the time and i fully understand and under similar circumstances would act in accordance with his actions. but i think the aspect of jon-related conversation, jonversation if you will, that i really don't agree with, or at least find any personal interest in, is that which kinda suggests that he's never acting in a selfish or misguided or even dysfunctional way? because i don't think that's true.

to be clear, i think he's a deeply, deeply caring character who does genuinely want to do things to protect and strengthen and help other people. one hundred percent. but i think one of the conflicts at his core, regardless of what one may think of as the reasoning behind it, is the conflict between that great capacity for caring about and loving others and his frequent inability to go about it in ways that do actually benefit others, or even that do keep him safe, whether we're talking physically or psychologically. i think he, like a Lot of people, especially those with early traumas, learned at some point in his life that an apology must demonstrate remorse, and the optimal way of doing that is by flagellating. so it's truly not any sort of wilful, or even knowing, malice or dysfunction. he is, as he almost always is, doing the best he can with the information from which he's working, but i also think that doesn't mean he's never done wrong or done harm, just that it isn't driven by any sort of desire to hurt.

also (i didnt mean for this to be this long but i had another thought wah) i think a further complication is that when he is acting in an intentionally (or at least, not unintentionally) self-sabotaging or self-harming way, from what we see he feels and enacts the self-loathing after the fact in quite a similar way. again, this is a pretty huge extrapolation, but i think he probably grew up in an environment where all his wrongs were treated as exactly equal, and so he actually feels comparable levels of guilt regardless of the finer points of the infraction itself. that could reasonably explain the consistency in him but. i guess what im saying is my man contains. multitudes. and to me personally the times he falls short are some of the most intriguing.

#asks #shinyopals #he's so. oh man this has got me thinking about him #is this the bit where opal Kills Me. I accept this

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi sex witch, this is kinda silly but I feel icky about myself sexually bc I lost my virginity VERY young (like 12) it was totally consensual m and it was just as underwhelming as you’d expect, but do you think it’s weird/bad for me to still feel crummy about that? I don’t know anybody else who’s had an experience like that where it was csa and I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel about this. Right now I just feel kinda ashamed.

hi anon,

come in, have a seat. grab a beverage. comfy? okay, cool.

nothing about this is silly, or weird, or bad. your emotions are yours, and you can feel any kind of way about your own experiences without having to justify why you feel them. there is no way you're "supposed" to feel about anything; there's just what you actually feel.

now, I've spent long enough in therapy to know that while all feelings are valid, that doesn't necessarily mean every feeling is good for you. in this case, it seems like you're using feelings to beat your self up a bit, both for how you lost your virginity and for your uncertain feelings about it now. listen - you're going to have to stop doing that. because once you come to my inbox you're one of my students, and I don't like anybody being unkind to my students - not even themselves.

I think that probably every single person on earth over the age of twelve feels crummy about something that they did when they were twelve. I know I do! the circumstances were different for everybody, but twelve is a weird and hormonal age where a lot of shit happens and there's a terrifying abundance of opportunities to create emotional baggage. frequently that baggage comes in hindsight, once we've gained the maturity and perspective to have second thoughts about something we did in our younger years that seemed totally fine at the time.

please believe me when I say that you contain room for multitudes. you don't have to feel great about this happening when you were twelve; I wouldn't ask you to! you're the only one who can decide how you feel about your own sexual experiences. I am giving you permission to feel icky about it; that's not weird.

but, having said that, you can feel ambivalent about it without tying yourself down in shame in the present day. no one is defined by things they did when they were children, or by their sexual history, or by the places where those two histories overlap. your regrets don't have to weigh you down.

this is like SUCH a classic cheesy therapist move, but like. imagine yourself when you were twelve. aww, what a cutie! really focus on Baby You. would you want them to spend their whole life struggling against shame? man, I hope not. because they're just a kid, right? they've got their whole life ahead of them, and so much to experience! places to go, people to meet, passions to discover, the whole deal. surely it would be cruel to define them totally by one (1) thing that happened when they were so little and didn't know anything about anything yet. sure, maybe it's something that won't feel great in hindsight, but come on - they're only twelve!

okay. we don't want Baby You to feel bad forever, right? we want the best for them, to live a healthy and happy life, don't we? awesome. so let's just slip that weight off their shoulders and remind them that they have nothing to be ashamed of. aaaaand okay awesome, now let's transfer that over to you, because You Right Now is just Baby You plus a few years!

you're allowed to feel however you want about your past. and also you deserve to live your life unburdened by shame and regret for things where you weren't your fault and are impossible to change.

be kind to yourself.

#sex edventures 2022

[raisinchallah]

im really so obsessed with the constant stream of posts on this website thats like everyone these days is stuck only consuming media for babies nothing is made for adults anymore everyone just wants ya or nostalgia bait or disney properties these are the only things being made now this is all anybody watches i am the only person on earth who enjoys adult media for adults and like idk i literally feel like this says more about the people making the posts than any kind of worthwhile analysis of the state of say the movie industry or the publishing industry like its just so funny to me like idk man why are you not friends with people you share interests with why do you only surround yourself with people you look down on why do you not seek out entertainment you enjoy like dfjkla;jkld;jkl whats up with all this like movies and novels about adult subjects are not a dying concept d;klasd;fjkl u can definitely talk about them perhaps leaving the highest grossing movies lists or the state of the ny times bestsellers list or something but dude what! can even half this energy devoted to creating strawman tumblr users that u can feel superior to be used to idk support and talk about interesting independent films or something and perhaps encourage people to engage with whatever you find interesting and want to share like also most people arent idk gonna be blogging about the dense literature theyre reading and people can literally contain multitudes whatever

[letterstodreams]

Multitudinous One

"Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)" - Walt Whitman

Oh that quote makes me think of the man in the Bible who was possessed by many demons, who collectively said, "I am legion". Or something like that, the story went. My one and only best character of them all contains multitudes. Multitudinous one. Multitude in us one. Multitude, when in us, is one. Multitude, in our unity, in our oneness, in our wholeness. I mean nothing of those demons, but religion might accuse this of that, no doubt.

Still, some of my best characters are shapeshifters, who are composed of multiple different other characters, and no one in particular in any lasting, firm sense, although there may be a main, core personality that is most identified with them, most prominent and strong and frequently expressed in them. This is the way it is with my character who I pray with and do divination with. This particular character is the strongest, most reliable and trustworthy presence in my life, heart and mind, in so many ways. It almost feels as though they're a bridge to God, Himself, since I can't really trust or understand God quite as well as I feel that I can trust and understand this character.

That is, I do trust God and feel I understand Him and rely on Him, but not in as familiar and dependable, accessible a way. He often confuses, hurts, leaves me feeling alone. Even religion often says God can leave you feeling alone and confused, because His ways are not ours and we don't always know what He is doing, even our whole lives long. It could be that we'll only see after we die and that's why some lives look so very oppressed but maybe they'll get some salvation and healing for it all after death, if they live a life that grants them this reward for their good efforts or patience.

Or so they say, but I'm not one to go trying to push that narrative on people. I've been in the position of feeling so totally bereft of all hope and light and sense and sanity and courage, feeling abandoned and rejected, misled and tormented by anything that I could see that might resemble God. In fact, I changed religions once because I felt cruelly misled by supernatural signs, wonders and manipulations, deceptions, that seemed to emanate from my so-called deity.

And it took me a long time to feel able to try to trust another source of divinity again, and I still only do so provisionally. I am now more comfortable with a God who makes no promises about this earthly life, except the promise to provide adequate comfort to get through the suffering, to guide us, to give us meaning and love. But if those promises fall through, then how much lower can I get than a life without those basic hopes and needs for comfort and peace?

If I am let down in those ways, then that is to lose all decent purpose and point, and yet it's not losing much. It's losing everything, but nothing, because all it is that I'd be losing is a poor man's last coin, everything I've got, which is so little, the ability to survive, to hang on, to keep my heart and soul alive. The living heart and soul, a hope kept alive, that is what I'd be losing, and the last step down from that is total death of purpose, confidence, hope, left adrift again to see what in the world can give me some semblance of comfort and the impression or illusion of hope, if I lose the real article of hope.

Many things can give illusions of hope and comfort, as I know well from abundant previous experience. They tend to be addictive, delusional, numbing, chaotic, absurd, greedy, self-unaware, hypocritical, leading one down a path of increasing confusion so that you can't see yourself clearly, nor your life or even your daily, hourly, or present moment actions. Everything is distorted and cloaked in a foggy vision that you can't even recognize anymore.

So I needed these characters to help me hope for something more real and immediate and sensory and human, the understanding for when God lets me down and other real life humans let me down or cannot meet my needs. I can't say they let me down. Who's to say it's their responsibility to meet my needs, but if I am starving inside my heart and soul, I need something to feed me. And if no one can feed me then, nor has the energy or understanding to sympathize, then I can turn to my characters. And so far, wonder of wonders, it works. It works incredibly well, ever since I linked up with that deity who seemed to misguide and manipulate me, but it worked before I met that goddess too. It worked, before the goddess, on and off since I had a spontaneous vision, hallucination you might say, if you were a psychologist, but I'm not. This vision of a being who was everything I wanted and needed and guided me and healed me, then dropped me or left me, and returned again, every so often, for years and years. That was about 14 years ago that I met that being.

The character who links me and God and repairs the wounds and confusion that God seems to inflict on me is unbelievably good and true and reliable, real and present in my life, even if they shape-shift between different people, different personalities. I have heard it said, by followers of new age beliefs, that God or Spirit or your guides will choose any form to represent themselves to you, as long as it will get the message through to your mind, heart, and soul.

Maybe your mind won't even understand or get it, and might rebel, but if it works to evoke the changes or reactions you need in your life, that is the form that God or your guides will take. Maybe the deity who seemed to mislead me might be leading me onto a path I needed to go onto. Even if I found that path by running from her, in fear and aversion, seeking comfort from the pain and confusion that she created, which was illusion and not reality. That sounds like something my old new age friends would have said. Or they would have said that the goddess who hurt me was actually not the real goddess, but a deceptive form, come to trick me away from the real goddess, or away from my real path.

But, what is my real, true path in life? I don't trust or assume too much anymore, but I try to go based on what works and what makes sense and seems believable to me. I try to go based on my experiences. When I've been let down and confused and misled, I no longer trust the path that misled and confused me anymore. If I feel I can't rely on much, then I don't rely on it. I try to make do without it.

And so, it feels like the path of trying to be a good person, to do what I should and live a good life, that is actually a little illusory for me, at this point. I don't know if I am going to be able to succeed in a way that I could hold up and say and believe myself when I say, "I lived a good life." I don't know if I'll be able to do what I should. And yet I believe in shoulds, a little bit. I just don't try to should upon others. But I try to should on myself, sometimes, because so far it seems to work at bringing real results, when other methods fail. But it only works sometimes, in some ways, and I sometimes let go of shoulds if it feels it's just a totally losing proposition.

The idea of who I'm going to be, what I'm supposed to do, my goals, my values, all that? It feels a little bit like an unbelievable character. The future me, that I think God wants and needs me to be. And the future me, that I need myself to be, that others need me to be, that my child needs me to be. The person everyone who depends on me needs. I do make ripples in my world. My ripples reach some people- exceptions to the rule in my family, people in my family who I actually feel are real, relatable people (well, there are two people in my family I feel that way about, if you count my daughter).

There aren't many people who depend on me and who I ripple out and touch in any clear way. I start to wonder if I might do more harm than good, if I lose my way too much and can't see how to correct things or even see what I'm doing wrong to start with. I start to wonder if indeed God will pick up the frayed edges that I might leave if I failed and he could weave the pieces back together where my failure hurt others.

Not that I want to excuse or accept failure from myself, but sometimes, I don't know if I can prevent it and I do dream sometimes of flying away, exiting the picture, leaving the lake where my ripples affect others. I won't do that willingly unless it truly feels like the best thing for others, and not just myself. I can't let myself think those kinds of thoughts very much or I might become misled by a false sense of failure and hopelessness.

It's not always easy to see when failure has truly and irrevocably happened in certain areas of one's life but I err on the side of extreme caution, having lived through the most decayed states and still healed myself, or been healed, once more able to give what no one else could give, to those who needed me.

Those who needed me in particular, and only I could have filled that role in their lives, I fear. Not that no one else could meet their needs, but that they might not seek the right people, or might not have the luck to find them. There are many people out there who want to help, or who say they want to help, yet many of those who offer help actually hurt and control those they claim to help, and as dark and heavy and slow as I can be, I can still offer help without trying to control and stifle and deny the reality of those who need me. So I guess I need to stick around in case they need that from me.

[cozycreaturescorner]

i'm a man in the same sense that Mothman is a man

#emmett is yelling #ok to rb #if you vibe with this post i am giving you a little kiss on the head if you want one mwah #i was thinkin about this yesterday #like...man is in his name #we call mothman he/him pronouns and call him a man #but like hes a 6 and a half foot tall vaguely humanoid moth with supernatural abilities and we all agree that hes just some guy #like nothing can contain the multitudes of what and who i am but man feels like a gokd word #yknow??? #also a kind of explanation of my pronouns too #like yes i am a man yes i am just a little creature #has this been done before? hgssgfs maybe? who knows #transgender #trans man #trans boy #ftm #transmasculine #he/him #it/its #he/it #lgbt

[nevermindirah]

Yitzhak!

is a character! who Gregadiah What-Is-Math Rucka gave us almost no information about!

I've gone through Tales Through Time #6: The Bear and #1: My Mother's Axe with several magnifying glasses and done a lot of googling and taken my copy of the Tanakh off my shelf for the first time since (well, since the last time I needed to read Torah for TOG reasons, which I think was Booker Passover headcanons) and here's the best I can come up with.

In The Bear we meet someone who goes by the name Isaac Blue:

Read on for a lot of comic panel analysis and historical research and Jewish flailing!

So what do we know about this Isaac Blue person?

He's Lorge, he's got curly hair, he's basically a taller version of Joe as drawn by Leandro Fernández (ie an antisemitic stereotype why the fuck did they approve this character design?? and then why did they double down and copy-paste it to Yitzhak??):

He's got a mezuzah on the doorpost of his house in Alaska!

I screamed about the mezuzah way back in January in this post where I (very reasonably) assumed this character was Joe and spun myself a tale about how Booker is still Joe's brother so the mezuzah stays up even though Booker isn't welcome in that house for a century. Bottom line: the mezuzah is a tradition with origins in the commandment from Deuteronomy 6:9 to "write the words of G-d on the gates and doorposts of your house" and evolved over the course of the Rabbinic period into the modern mezuzah we see here.

I did unnecessary levels of google image search to glean absolutely no useful information about Yitzhak’s origins from this panel:

I've decided the variant cover of TTT 6 is Yitzhak because of a panel in My Mother’s Axe, shown here, and what's likely an unnecessarily deep reading of Exodus, discussed further down:

The person at the right of the bottom panel is wearing the same clothes as in the TTT 6 variant cover and has the same shoulder-length curly hair and hairy forearms.

Left to right, the people in this panel are Lykon (I'll never get used to him being white in the comics), Andy, Noriko (I think? why doesn't Andy mention her by name here?), and Yitzhak. Andy's robe has a stereotypically Greek design on the sleeve cuff, and I had to stop myself 10 minutes into a Wikipedia rabbit hole because Gregorforth doesn't think that deep about this shit. The solid clues as to timeline that we get in this panel are:

Andy's iron axe

the presence of Lykon, who Andy first met in 331 BCE

So all we know is that Yitzhak is an immortal, he was a contemporary of Lykon, and he's Jewish.

Isaac is the most common Anglicization of Yitzhak (which in turn is the most common Anglophone transliteration of יִצְחָק‎), and Greg always uses the (transliterated) Hebrew when he refers to this character. Yitzhak is the long-awaited child of Abraham and Sarah in Genesis, the child who G-d commanded Abraham to sacrifice but spared at the last minute. I see what you did there, Gregory.

Why Isaac Blue? This is where I pulled out my Tanakh. According to the New JPS translation, blue is the first of three colors of yarn listed in Exodus 35:6 among the gifts requested of the Israelites to construct the priestly garments for the Tabernacle and later the Temple. Then in Numbers 15:38 the Israelites are commanded to "make themselves fringes on the corners of their garments throughout the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the fringe at each corner."

And now for sandbox timelines party! Gregadiah gave us ALMOST NOTHING to go on, so I'm gonna make my own fun.

I, like many modern Jews, think the stories in the Tanakh are foundational mythology that are valuable because of how they've shaped our people but that contain some fucked-up shit and either way aren't meant to be a record of historical facts. Modern scholarship generally agrees that the community we now call Jews emerged as a distinct group of Canaanites sometime in the late Bronze Age (cw this video's host says the Name of G-d aloud despite being a religious studies scholar who knows that is not a name anyone but the Temple priests are allowed to say). The first non-Biblical written record of the people Israel is from an Egyptian source c. 1200 BCE, and the Biblical kingdom of David and Solomon was probably an exaggeration of whatever really happened during the Bronze Age Collapse. We start getting into historical-fact territory a few centuries into the Iron Age:

588 BCE Solomon's Temple destroyed, Babylonian exile begins

538 BCE Cyrus of Persia allows Jews to return to Jerusalem

515 BCE Second Temple construction complete

332 BCE Alexander the Great At Something I Guess conquered Judea, beginning the Hellenistic period of Jewish history — 331 BCE Andy & Lykon find each other

167 BCE another jerkface Greek king desecrated the Temple and basically outlawed Judaism

164 BCE recapture of Jerusalem and Temple rededication during the Maccabean Revolt

70 CE destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans, beginning of the Rabbinic period of Jewish history that we're still in now

What if... and hear me out... what if immortals come in pairs, and the pairs are:

Andy & Quynh

Joe & Nicky

Booker & Nile

LYKON & YITZHAK

What if Yitzhak was a priest of the Second Temple? What if he and Lykon killed each other just like Joe and Nicky would in the same city around 1300 years later, but instead of enemies-to-lovers speedrun with an absurdly long happily-ever-after, when Lykon died permanently Yitzhak decided to separate from Andy and Noriko and become the hermit we later see in Alaska?

We don't know how old Yitzhak is compared to the others, only that he was a contemporary of Lykon at a time when Andy was using an Iron Age version of her mother's axe. Other plausible origins for him:

a Jew of the early Rabbinic period, maybe a child or grandchild of people who were still alive before the Second Temple was destroyed

a Judean of the Second Temple era under the Romans or Greeks or Persians, maybe a priest, maybe not

an exilee in Babylon, maybe of the generation who got to return, maybe of the generation who was exiled (he doesn't look like he was 50 at his first death but who knows, he could've been mortal for both)

an Israelite of the Kingdoms of Israel and Judah, maybe a priest of Solomon's Temple or again maybe not

an Israelite wandering in the desert with Moses

THEE Yitzhak, ben Avraham v'Sarah, our patriarch who was brought up for sacrifice and then spared, and then spared again, and then spared again, and again, and again...

or! he could also be a Canaanite or other Levantine who predates the people Israel, who at some point in his very long life chose to join our mixed multitude, who like Andromache before him (and like Avram and Sarai would in this case do after him) took a new name to reflect the magnitude of influence this people has had on him

Why do I keep saying Yitzhak might have been a priest? It's thanks to the one detail in the artwork I could plausibly connect to solid research without getting a PhD real quick. Take a look at the gorgeous detail on the opening of his robe in the TTT 6 cover. He's dressed in rags, holes and dirt everywhere, rough stitches probably from hasty repair work — except for the neck opening. Compare that to this description from Exodus 39:23 of the construction of the priestly garments for the Tabernacle: "The opening of the robe, in the middle of it, was like the opening of a coat of mail, with a binding around the opening, so that it would not tear."

The next verses describe the intricate designs for the hem of the priestly garment. Yitzhak's ragged garment looks like the hem was torn off entirely.

Am I overthinking this? Yes I am! You're welcome!

My friend and historical research hero @lady-writes​ is in a Discord server with Gregadiah and asked the man himself some questions about all this. He clearly thinks he's being sneaky?? No shit Yitzhak is Jewish, dude, I want DETAILS!

I will not be giving up my Jewish Booker headcanon, I've put too much thought into it by now, the internalized shame of antisemitism explains Booker's depression too well for me, and it just adds so much richness to Booker/Nile both being children of forced diasporas. Fortunately (for him, not me, bc I'd do it anyway!) Gregothy supports fan headcanons even when they're not in line with his own:

One last thing before I close like 100 research tabs and go back to writing historical fantasy and/or porn! I love that, despite that atrocious caricature of a face design, our canon Jew and our fanon Jew are both Lorge and Soft and Kind, flying the face of the antisemitic stereotype of Ashkenazi Jewish men as small and weak, but also not falling into the New Jew / Muscle Jew stereotype that Zionism created. (I am trying SO HARD not to talk about Israel/Palestine for once ughhhhhhhhhh) Anyway here's a (US-centric but very good) primer on both these stereotypes of Jewish masculinity. Is this why I'm forever projecting my transmasc diasporist feels onto Jewish Booker the service sub? 🤷🏻‍♂️

I’ll reblog a second version of this with full image descriptions so that there’s a version accessible for folks who need IDs as well as a version accessible for folks who get overwhelmed by walls of text.

#TOG POC Love Fest #yitzhak #jewish booker #tales through time spoilers #tales through time #tog meta #tog #jewish things #mine #antisemitism #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it

[averytiredfanfictionwriter]

Clan (Technoblade x demon!reader, Philza x demon!reader)

Word count- 2,210 Content Warnings- none that I can think of Ao3 link- right here.

My first post back in a while. I’m sorry about the absence to whoever might care- a lot of things popped up in my personal life that stressed me out, on top of my graduation fast approaching. But I’m back now, and this might not be the Karl or Ranboo fic that was promised, it is at least something. Those will both be coming within a week or two, I just need to finish up some stuff and then edit them. So follow if you want to see when I post those, or just reply on this post saying that you want to be tagged when I do post them. Enjoy! Reblogs are appreciated, as well as likes. So if you could just do both, that would mean the world to me!

Techno’s used to being alone. He lived the first hundred years of his life that way- until he met Phil. And then Phil left. And he was alone again. 

But when he met Y/n, that all changed. He never had to worry about being alone again. Immortals are rare, and meeting another one is even rarer, but the two were inseparable. She never disclosed where she was from, or what the tattoos of strange runes on her body meant, and Techno knew better than to pry into matters that didn’t concern him, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about as she stared out the window with her eyes clouded over and memories of a past time playing in her mind.

When Phil came back, it was easy for the pair to fit him back into their lives. Even though Y/n had never met him before it was as if they’d known each other for centuries before then. The three easily settled into a calm daily routine and when they returned to their own houses in the little community they’d created for just them at night, they fell asleep having forgotten what life was like before they’d met. 

The three gods never worried about what would happen when they were found. After all, they’re immortal. They’ve lived to see the rise and fall of countries, rulers, and everything else. Them of all people know that nothing is permanent. But none ever stopped to consider that what they had wasn’t permanent.

It started when Techno woke up in the morning. The arctic always lent itself to freezing mornings but this one felt colder than the others. It could be because he had expected to wake up with Y/n and Phil next to him on the couch, and was surprised that they would go back to their own houses. But it was much more than that- even if Techno couldn’t have known.

Phil and Techno looked in silence for any trace of Y/n around their community when the sun hit the middle of the sky and she still hadn’t shown her face. Any places she might have gone off to in search of quiet or a place to nap. But that didn’t appear to be the case and their search turned up empty and in vain. 

Techno retreated into himself. He found the note she’d left when he and Phil returned from their search and he didn’t say anything, instead heading down to the basement in his small house and shutting himself in to work on ‘very important stuff’ as he told Phil. Phil didn’t believe him-  Techno wasn’t exactly quiet in expressing the emotions he felt about Y/n leaving.

Phil wasn’t quite as emotional as Techno. He was more than two hundred years older than the pink-haired man. He was used to the constant ebbing and flowing of life, of the appearance and then disappearance of people. That’s not to say it didn’t hurt, but he knew that it’s the way of life. People come, and then they go. To stop it would be to disregard the nature of humans as a whole.

He was a little surprised when Techno came back up at the end of the night and, while silent, had refused to acknowledge that she’d even existed there in the first place. He ignored the building next to his where she’d slept and kept her belongings. Whenever Phil tried to bring her up, Techno would shut out the conversation and pretend he hadn’t heard him. It wasn’t healthy, and Phil couldn’t blame him because he was still young but he just wished he wouldn’t be so heartbroken to the point of refusing to acknowledge that she ever existed in the first place.

This went on for months. Almost a whole year had passed and the building that contained Y/n’s belongings went untouched. All the delicate keepsakes from past adventures, photos of strangers that neither of the men dared ask about, and the bookshelves lining almost every wall and so full of books from all over the world- it all gathered dust. Until finally she came back.

Phil almost didn’t recognize her at first. The tired weariness evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the dragging of her footsteps, but everything else was the same. The dark hair on her head now long enough to braid- much to his excitement- and the multitudes of runes covering her body, with the additions of quite a few now. One of the newest things though is the several piercings and jewelry that she’s wearing. The most prominent of which is the chain hanging around her neck, a medium-sized precious stone of unknown origin hanging off of it. 

“Y/n…” Phil said, dropping the wood he held in her arms in favor of running over and embracing her.

She hugs him back, the feeling almost foreign to her now. But now that she’s back, she doesn’t intend on forgetting it again.

“Where’s Techno? I need to talk to you both.” Y/n mumbles into Phils' shoulder, and for a minute he feels the cold flush of fear at the thought of her leaving again.

“He’s inside his house. Here, I’ll take you there.” Phil can’t help but feel like he’s showing around a visitor. The community has changed quite a bit since she’d last been there but the dread-filled feeling that he gets at the thought of her leaving again, coming back to say that she’s leaving and never returning, is more than he could take.

“Techno. Where are you?” Phil calls out as he enters the house and the chill of the room makes him shiver.

“Downstairs.” A gruff voice calls back, followed by a grunt of frustration.

“Well, can you come upstairs real quick? We have a visitor.” The word is bitter on his tongue and the look that flashes quickly across Y/n’s face makes him wish he’d chosen a better wording.

“Fine.” The ladder creaks and then Techno is peeking his head through the hole that leads down the basement.

“Y/n. What are you doing here?” It’s not entirely a question, and Y/n winces at Techno’s harsh tone. “Why are you back now? What, was living out there not as good as you thought it was? Well, you can leave. We don’t want you back here. We’re doing just fine on our own.” 

Y/n feels destroyed. She didn’t expect Techno to react positively to her return, but she didn’t expect this.

“Can I just tell you why I left?” She asks, and Techno snorts.

“Sure. Go ahead. Lay on us this wonderful reason.” Techno’s voice drips with sarcasm.

“There were some people I needed to find- had to find.” She says and Techno laughs.

“Really. That’s your reason. You had to go find some people so you left for ten months. You didn’t even think to tell us in person, instead, you just left a note. Hell, you could have taken us with you. We would have happily gone with you. I would have happily gone with you. I’d have done anything for you. But it appears that the feeling wasn’t mutual, since you barely bothered to leave a half-assed note telling us.” Techno shouts, having climbed fully into the room and stood towering over the girl.

“You don’t understand. This was not a trip you could have made. Neither of you would have been able to!” Y/n shouts back. 

Phil backs away, settling into the couch on the other side of the room. 

“What do you mean, I don’t understand. I understand perfectly. You abandoned us. You abandoned me. Well, you know what, I don’t want you back here. You need to leave. Get your things and leave. Right now.” Techno says and it feels like Y/n was just punched in the gut.

“What? Techno you’re not serious?” Phil’s astonished. Of everything he thought Techno would say to Y/n, this wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, I am. Now get out.” Philza protests and Techno starts yelling at him as he tries to shove her out of the house.

“My clan was killed! I had to find their bodies!” She shouts out over the two men and Techno stops pushing her.

“Clan?” He asks and Phil stares at her blankly.

“You’re a demon?” He asks and Techno looks back and forth between the two.

“Part demon, yes. My clan was killed and I had to find them. I needed to know who was left. And… I’m now the leader of a clan that doesn’t exist anymore. They were all dead.” Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence, and the sorrow overwhelms her. She’d done a good job on the trip there and back of not crying, of ignoring what happened. But saying it out loud makes it real, and something inside her snaps with those words.

Suddenly the runes tattooed on her and the amount of gold jewelry she’s wearing makes sense to Phil. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Techno pulls her into his arms protectively.

Phil stands from the couch and joins them. The combined warmth of the other two hybrids is almost too much to bear, but Philza hugs them anyways. Y/n’s sobbing continues for a little longer, but soon it turns into muffled sniffles and the shaking of her body calms a little bit.

“It’s up to me now to find a new clan. Custom is that I have to either join one or find others to form one with. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here. Most of them require you to live with the group.” Y/n whispers as she pulls away from the hug.

“No. I won’t let you leave. Not for a second time.” Techno says stubbornly, and Y/n shakes her head.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do. We’ll be your new clan. Even if you can’t give us the jewelry of your brothers and sisters like tradition dictates, we can still be your clan. Technically your clan doesn’t have to be other demons.” Phil smiles at her. Techno doesn’t know why Phil would know that, but he doesn’t question his knowledge either way. Phil’s lived a long life before he and Y/n came into the picture.

“You guys would do that?” She asks and he nods his head eagerly.

“Of course. We were already really close before- nothing’s going to be changing.”

“Yeah. What do we have to do to join your clan?” Techno asks.

“Well, we basically have to get married to each other. It’s really just an unbreakable promise to stay with each other and protect each other until we die. Soooo… forever. Are you guys sure this is what you want? Because once we do this we can’t go back.” Y/n looks at them in worry.

“Yes. We both want this. You belong here with us. Life was horrible without you here. I had to deal with Phil all alone. The full force of his attention was on me. It was a never-ending nightmare.” Technos voice is dry as he delivers the joke and Y/n laughs as Phil protests.

“Hey. You forget that I was equally as stuck with you. It’s not easy when you live with a piglin who never gets cold and forgets that not everyone is as lucky as him.” Phil says and Techno mimics his words.

“Whatever you say, old man. But Y/n, I’m a hundred percent serious about joining your clan. I never want to let you go again.” Techno says into Y/n’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it was so quiet without you here mate. And cold. So, so cold.” Phil wraps his wings around the two human furnaces and holds them close.

Even though he’s more than two hundred years older than the pair and knows the reality of life- that eventually they’ll get bored of each other or tired and leave- he finds himself wanting to never let go.

“Here, hold out your hands,” Y/n tells them as she pulls out of the hug.

The two men do so without hesitation, and Y/n places a ring in each of their hands. They’re heavy, made of an unknown metal to most who walk the earth and they’re burning hot to the touch as if they were just forged and taken out of the fire.

“But… you’re not supposed to?” Phil says and the woman shakes her head.

“It doesn’t matter if my clan is made of demons or not. I’m still going to give you guys the rings signifying our bonds.” She says and Phil nods.

“Now… who wants to go and slaughter some orphans?” Techno asks, clapping his hands together.

Y/n shouts yes and drops her bag on the ground, running out the door. Techno hangs back a moment, pausing only to look at his reflection in the mirror- at the heavy ring on his tusk. It’s stopped burning and has turned into a comfortable warmth.

“Hey, you good mate?” Phil asks and Techno smiles.

“Never better.” He eyes the half-demon waiting outside in the snow, her tail swishing on the ground behind her. 

“Good. Because now there’s no getting rid of her.” Phil smiles and they join the girl waiting outside, ready for whatever adventures lie ahead.

#dsmp x reader #dsmp techno #technoblade x reader #technoblade x platonic!reader #philza x reader #philza x platonic!reader #hybrid reader #technoblade x hybrid!reader #philza x hybrid!reader #technoblade x y/n #philza x y/n #lizzy writes

[221bshrlocked]

Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

Taglist (some aren't working):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @fan-of-encouragement @evelynseventyr

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike/reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal #yall don't understand how much I love this fucking character #he's literally the softest #and he deserves the world #ugh #anyway

[closedafterdark]

Study

Lee Saerom & Jang Gyuri x Male Reader

10204 words

categories: smut, angst, oral, mommy kink, scientist! gyuri

Read on AFF

“S-Slow d-down.. P-please…!”

Heavy breathing and the familiar sounds of a bed frame creaking filled an otherwise empty room. A pile of discarded clothing begins from the entrance leading to the bed itself. On the bed was a woman who was currently straddling someone’s waist, bracing herself onto his chest as she rode him.

He is greeted with a harsh slap across his face, the sound echoing onto the walls around them. He isn’t given any time to process the harsh sting felt on his cheek. The woman slicks her long, beautiful chestnut brown colored hair back as she meets the man’s eyes with her own aloof expression.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do.” she simply said, her cold tone reinforced with another slap. This time, on the man’s other cheek.

He can feel her suffocatingly tight walls constrict his shaft, causing him to feel a mixture of both pain and pleasure. The woman’s fluidity of her hip movements caused his cock to be well lubricated with her juices. Having established a somewhat enjoyable rhythm, the man raised his hands and brushed aside the white lab coat the woman was wearing. The very moment his hands rested on her waist, he was met with his neck being constricted by her soft hands.

“Who said you could touch me?” she asked. “I’m the one in charge here.”

The man’s eyes widened in fear as the woman increased her pace. Her pussy was extremely wet and tight, causing his breath to be staggered as he struggled to match her tempo. Her cute butt and dangerously soft thighs met his with each bounce of her body.

“I… I’m sorry.” the man managed to say.

“Sorry? You’re not sorry. At least, you won’t be until I’m done with you.”

The woman in the lab coat continues to ride the man - her hot, wet pussy causing him to feel a multitude of sensations at once. Her muscles gripped onto his erect cock even tighter, the pace at which she was impaling herself onto him showed she had zero regard for his comfort. It was clear she had one goal. Using the helpless man to achieve her own satisfaction.

“My pussy is too tight for you, isn’t it?” she jeered. The bed underneath them both began to creak loudly as she continued to increase the pace at which she was riding him. Her slim, long fingers wrap themselves around his neck, causing the restriction of airflow. Not enough to suffocate, but enough for his breathing to become sparse. He gulps a small amount of saliva built up as he manages to admire the woman’s body through his fear. She was slightly taller than the average woman, her slim figure complimented by the tiniest hint of muscle and soft, delicious looking thighs. Her breasts were on the smaller side, but were easily able to hypnotize whoever should be staring at them as they bounced up and down while she continued to do so on the man’s cock.

A dangerously sweet face that was anything but. Her soft features were a testament to the natural beauty she possessed. Not a single blemish or imperfection on her face, nothing to hide the alluring look presented before him. Her eyes were bright, a twinkle of a wild personality being unleashed as her body bounced up and down on the man. Had the meeting been under more comfortable circumstances, the man would easily admit he is smitten towards her. The feel of her hands that continued to hold on his neck brings him back to reality - the time to admire her appearance is short-lived as he feels her already tight pussy quickly increasing even more in tightness as it pulses around his shaft.

She knows he wouldn’t be able to last much longer, as she runs one hand through her luscious, long hair and slicks it back and continues to impale herself again and again on his cock. She wanted him to cum and she wanted him to do it now.

“I know you’re getting close… so just hurry up and fucking cum already…!”

Her hands tighten their hold on his neck as the velvety walls of her pussy do the same to his cock. The bed’s loud creaking could not be compared to how roughly the woman slammed her body onto him. He isn’t even able to speak as the orgasm finally takes over his body. His toes curl tightly from the pleasure as the euphoric floodgates are opened all at once. She feels his cock throb inside her as her thighs clenched around his waist. Goosebumps formed on the man’s body as he instinctively thrusts upwards, releasing more and more of his semen into the hot, tight walls of her pussy. He holds onto her hips - surprised she showed no effort of pushing him away as she allows him to ride out his orgasm.

She grinds herself on his cock as the man slowly descends from his pleasure-filled high. The man is panting heavily, beads of perspiration formed on his skin as he struggles to return to normalcy. Finally opening his eyes, he is met with the woman’s beautiful eye smile once more. She gives him a seductive wink before blowing a kiss. Satisfied, the man continues to catch his breath.

“That was… amazing.” he said.

He is met with the woman letting out a hauntingly soft laugh. The look in her eyes shows she is not happy, in fact - the opposite. The smile on her face disappears as quickly as it appeared. His eyes widened as he begins to process what was going on.

“I wouldn’t call cumming in less than a minute and a half something to be proud of.” she said. Despite saying that, a sultry moan escapes her lips as she raises her hips and removes the man’s softening cock from her body. A stream of semen and juices begins to flow out of her freshly fucked pussy. She looks down at where their bodies were previously connected and her frown deepens.

“A shame that such a large load was released by someone who can’t even last long in bed.” she stated. The man’s ego would have taken a hit were it not for the fact that she quite simply scared him. She gets off the bed and grabs tissues from the nearby nightstand.

“What’s worse is that I would’ve enjoyed swallowing it. Bet you didn’t know that about me, didn’t you? I love swallowing. But now I have to clean this disgusting filth out of my body.” As the woman wipes her thighs, she bends over in front of the man, shaking her butt cutely at him as she grabs and puts on the lacy fabric of her sheer black panties.

“Seriously? I shake my ass and you’re already hard again?” her unwelcoming tone drastically lowering the temperature in the room despite the heater being on. The man swallowed another amount of saliva as he opened his mouth in response. Unfortunately, no sound was able to be produced. Instead, he chooses to nod his head nonchalantly.

“That’s too bad. Now you’re going to have to go home and jerk yourself off in order to relieve that. Still such a shame, I can see your poor cock throbbing. Just dying to be inside me once more.” The woman knelt beside the bed and slowly began to lower her face onto his crotch. Anticipating her wrapping her pink, plump lips around his shaft, he closed his eyes. After not feeling himself enter her mouth, he slowly opens them and sees she is blowing hot air onto his tip, still lubricated from her juices and his own cum. She held onto the man’s crinkled dress shirt next to him and tossed it onto his body.

“Gather your things and get the fuck out of my office. Now!”

The man fumbles out of the bed, his sense of balance still lacking as evident through his shaking knees as he quickly gathered his discarded clothing and shoes before storming out of the office in tears. Luckily enough, he didn’t seem to run into a young woman who made a fist in front of where the door was. She turned her head to see what just whirled by her as her gaze returned to the woman in the lab coat who is now putting on her bra and stockings. Leaning against the frame of the door, she smirks at the woman.

“Can I help you?”

“Looks to me like this is the scene of another failed experiment. Poor bastard never even stood a chance. How many does that make it, four?” The woman replied, tilting her head slightly as she put her pointer finger on her temple. The woman inside has finally put on her dress shirt, taking the time to button it up before tucking it into her skirt and wearing her slightly wrinkled lab coat once more.

“Is there a reason you’re in my office and making fun of my unsuccessful test run, miss Nakyung?”

“Unnie, lighten up.” Nakyung said as she closed the door. She goes ahead and sits on the nightstand next to the bed, the only other piece of furniture in the room. “You’re so uptight whenever I bring it up.”

“You would be too if you had to deal with idiots in an intimate scenario on a daily basis.”

“I am. Those poor souls end up crying in my office, causing me to clean up after you. You really should take it easy, unnie.”

“Did you call the person I told you to call, miss Nakyung?” the woman said, ignoring the previous statement and easily changing the subject.

Nakyung sighed. “Yes, I did. They’re going to be arriving later today.”

“Good.” the woman nodded. Not bothering to move her head up, her eyes met Nakyung’s curious gaze. She watched as she crossed her legs and brushed her skirt before speaking.

“Gyuri unnie.” Nakyung began. An eyebrow was raised as she grabbed onto her lab coat and fixed it, her name embroidered above its left breast pocket. Despite the cold stare evident on Jang Gyuri’s face, it still maintained a soft, calming feeling.

“You said you were okay with them getting together. Saerom unnie even asked if you would be okay with her dating your ex-boyfriend.” Gyuri tensed up slightly. Nakyung knew it was a sensitive subject, trying all that she could to avoid saying the one person’s name Gyuri was not overly fond of.

--

Two women sit across from each other at a quaint, yet spacious cafe. The decor looked as if it was stepping into a time portal - everything from the red neon rings surrounding the various wall clocks and the ceiling above to the black and white checkered flooring. The diner tops contained chrome finishes while the chairs used a shiny form of faux leather. The fair appearance of the waitress who delivered the women’s drinks was complimented by a red and white dress, complete with clubmaster glasses, overtly red lipstick, and a beauty mark that had no business blemishing an otherwise flawless face. She bowed to the women before leaving them to their conversation.

Neither woman said a word. Both looked around, as if to find something, anything to distract them from the tension in the air before them. The moment the two made eye contact, their eyes widened slightly before taking the cup in front of them and having a small, awkward sip. To anyone viewing from the outside, it would seem the two were friends, or at the very least, acquaintances discussing some important matters. Which is true, but the context of the situation was lost to everyone except for the two of them.

“Have you given my request some thought?” one of the women finally said, breaking the silence. The other woman coughs, not expecting that to be the first statement either person would say. She takes a moment to compose herself and gather her thoughts before speaking.

“Remind me again what it was?” she asked, a hint of a feigning innocence in her voice.

“I wanted to know if you’re okay with me asking out oppa. You know, your ex-boyfriend.”

The mere fact that she reiterated her point, and made sure to mention that it was her ex-boyfriend at that, rubbed the woman the wrong way. She placed her cup back onto the plate serving as a coaster below, albeit a bit louder than expected. She glared at the woman before her, though it was not one with the intention of malice. Instead, it contained pain, a longing sadness in her eyes.

“Does it really have to be him, Saerom?”

“It does.” the woman known as Saerom replies, sighing. “I know you two didn’t break up on the greatest terms. Trust me, I get it. I’ve tried so hard to get rid of my feelings by going on dates with other people. But somehow, I always found myself gravitating towards him. He has my heart, Gyuri.”

Gyuri’s eyes began to glisten at what Saerom had told her. It was true - Gyuri and her ex-boyfriend broke up because their careers were going to take them in completely separate paths. Rather than end up not having any time for each other at all, it was Gyuri who suggested they mutually part ways. Despite some time having passed, it was still a sensitive subject for Gyuri.

“I’m sorry.” Saerom said softly, taking Gyuri’s hand into her own. Placing her other hand on top, she began rubbing it gently, an effort to calm the abundance of emotions Gyuri was likely experiencing all at once. “I know what he meant to you. But I have to listen to my heart. The heart wants what it wants.”

Tears begin to stream down Gyuri’s face. Despite having heard something so devastating, she managed to keep a smile on her lips. She knew everything Saerom said was true, but it didn’t make it any less heartbreaking.

“Ah, why am I feeling this way?” Gyuri said, doing her best to wipe the tears out of her eyes. Regardless, they continued to flow freely down her cheeks. She was sorrowfully beautiful - a modern day tale of a woman who chose her career over her true love. And now to hear someone else, someone she was close to in particular, wanting to give love in a way she never could breaks her heart. It didn’t matter that they were in a public place. Years of built up longing and regret were finally released as Gyuri continued to cry.

All Saerom could do was continue to comfort Gyuri by rubbing her hand tenderly as she let it all out. Eventually, Gyuri manages to calm herself down once she realizes she’s all cried out. Her face is flushed, and her once bright, shining eyes are glistening with an overwhelming sadness. She initially wipes her eyes with the back of her hand before grabbing the napkin on the table to properly fix her appearance.

“You’re right. The heart does want what it wants.” Gyuri said after several minutes of relative silence.

“I hope you two are happy together.”

--

“They do seem pretty happy together...” Nakyung could be heard saying, bringing Gyuri out of her daydream. She glares at Nakyung slightly before turning away and putting on her heels.

“You know, ever since you dyed your hair and got those horrible excuses for extensions, you’ve changed a lot.” Gyuri said, staring out the window that overlooked the city.

“My boyfriend seems to like them, so they can’t be that bad.” Nakyung replied. “Can’t say the same about you, unnie.”

“Hey!” Gyuri whined. Nakyung got off the nightstand and linked arms with Gyuri, causing the older woman to scoff in fake annoyance before smiling as Nakyung batted her eyes and turned up the charm. She knew Gyuri was always soft for her.

--

It was a day like any other.

That is, since most days began looking down as you felt a sharp pleasure from between your legs as your girlfriend Lee Saerom’s head was currently bobbing up and down. A soft moan escapes your lips as your hand guides her rhythm. Saerom gives you a hauntingly sexy stare as her plump lips are parted by your cock. You felt her hollowed cheeks that are accompanied by her tongue running across the underside of your shaft.

Saerom’s pace was slow, wanting you to feel the pleasure gradually build up as the wetness of her mouth and the suction-like hold her lips have on your cock caused you to release steady moans of satisfaction.

She kept her eyes on you the entire time, smiling through them as she hears you enjoying the pleasure she is giving. Your girlfriend was extremely beautiful by every means possible, but there was something alluring whenever she had your cock in her mouth. Giving you one final bob of her head, she flicks her tongue back and forth on your base before withdrawing you from her mouth inch by inch. You let out a soft whine once she fully released your cock with a loud pop. She giggles before opening her mouth and flicking her tongue on your tip. She then strokes you before focusing her attention on your balls, lathering each one as she gently nibbles on them, causing you to shiver as they are particularly sensitive from her having squeezed them with a bit of pressure. 

Saerom smiled sweetly as she continued, giving the tip of your cock a long, deep kiss before taking your cock back into the familiar warm and wet feeling of her mouth.

“Oh fuck, mommy…” you moaned out as Saerom resumed bobbing her head up and down. Despite having a mouth full of cock, she let out a giggle, causing her tongue to vibrate on the underside of your shaft. You felt her lips tighten around your cock as she played with your head. No matter how many times she has done it, it always seemed like she found a new way to cause pleasure to be felt throughout your body.

Saerom loved giving the sloppiest of blowjobs, and why would today be any different? Her eyes formed inverted crescents as she smiled at you while swishing around her built up saliva and thoroughly lubricated your cock. With your hand still guiding her rhythm, it was eventually joined by your other one as it ran through her voluminous, shiny black hair before resting on the back of her head.

Feeling the end was near, you began increasing the pace of her bobbing her head. Her eyes were filled with pleasure, wanting nothing more than to see you fully satisfied by her actions. Sounds of Saerom gargling on your cock and her saliva entered both of your ears as you relentlessly put more and more of your cock inside her promiscuous mouth. It couldn’t have been more than a dozen or so bobs of her head for you to finally reach your orgasm.

Unable to say anything besides moaning loudly, both of your hands grabbed onto the back of Saerom’s head and pushed her all the way down as your cock began to deposit hot, thick semen down her throat. Your body shakes from the aftershocks of pleasure as you curled your toes and continued pushing her head down. Saerom’s wet lips maintain their tight hold on you as she takes your balls into her hand and gently squeezes them, wanting to make sure she has drained you of every last drop.

You struggle to catch your breath as your knees have not fully recovered from the intense orgasm Saerom gave you. She regretfully removes her head from your cock inch by inch as some of your cum begins to leak out and drop onto the bed sheets below. She opens her mouth to show you the massive volume of semen you released for her. Giggling slightly, she plays with it, twirling it inside her mouth and tongue before tilting her head up and giving you a good view of your load slowly descending down her throat. Letting out a hum of satisfaction, Saerom cleans up the small amount of cock dribbling from your slit before smiling at you sweetly.

“You always cum so much for mommy, baby.”

--

One almost scalding shower and intense round of sex later, you make your way to the living room and see Saerom on the couch. There she sat, crossing her long legs for your viewing pleasure thanks to the extremely tiny boy shorts she wore. Her skin tight black tank top left little to the imagination as it showed off her wonderful midriff, the result of many hours at the gym which resulted in abs that you were a bit embarrassed to admit you enjoyed worshipping a bit too much. The outline of her breasts made you want to do nothing more than rip off the restrictive clothing from her body.

“... so yeah, he and I just finished moving into this place about a few days ago. You should totally come by when you have time.” Saerom said as she waved at you sweetly. She puckered her lips which soon met yours as you sat down next to her. “Nakyung” she mouthed to you when you asked who she was on the phone with. Despite the television being on, she paid little attention to it as she was currently engrossed in her conversation with Nakyung. She placed her legs on top of yours, something she has done plenty of times. While it wasn’t out of the ordinary, your hand began to rub them and admired how smooth and soft they were. It seemed Saerom had been using a new lotion, the fragrant aroma of lilac perfumed the air as you saw her wiggling her freshly pedicured toes. You teased her by squeezing her big toe, causing Saerom to playfully hit you.

Feeling a bit more bold, you sneakily wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her onto your lap. Saerom yelped, having been caught off guard.

“Saerom unnie, are you okay?” Nakyung asked.

“Ah, ah. Yes, I’m just exercising at the moment.” Saerom yelled a bit loudly as you softly laughed while running your hands up her creamy thighs.

“Oh, what are you doing?”

“I’m… ah, about to do squats.” She moaned as one of your hands began to fondle her clothed breasts while simultaneously planting tender kisses on her neck. Her eyes grow half-lidded as lust quickly takes over her body. You helped Saerom out of her shorts and panties as she turns around and faces you. Her face is flushed as she cutely glares at you. Giving her a tender kiss on the lips, you smacked Saerom’s ass softly. She helps you remove your shirt, all the while still on the phone with an unsuspecting Nakyung.

You grabbed Saerom’s toned arms and pushed her face first onto the couch. Her long, beautiful hair was beginning to grow damp as she moved it all to one side for you to admire her neck.

You slapped her soft butt cheeks a few more times with your cock, teasing her. You slid yourself between them, causing her to have to restrict her moans before entering her. Your initial penetration caused you to moan as well, Saerom lost strength in her arms as her phone fell onto the couch. Giving her time to adjust to your cock, she fumbled around before placing the call on speaker.

“Fuck…” she moaned into the couch while covering her mouth.

“You’re so tight, mommy.” you said as you slowly thrusted in and out of her hole. Her velvety walls squeezed your cock painfully, arousing you even more. You thrusted into her slowly, yet deeply. Her asscheeks rippled from the force each time it collided with your lower body. Saerom bit down on her panties hard to prevent her moaning from being heard by Nakyung as you held onto her arms while you fucked her.

“Unnie, are you okay? You sound like you’re out of breath.” Nakyung’s voice could be heard through the phone. It was slightly alarming that the two of you quickly forgot Saerom was having a conversation. But that thought quickly faded as the two of you were being consumed by lust and passion.

“I-I’m fine!” Saerom panted heavily. “Harder, baby.” She whispered to you softly. You picked up the pace, causing her to bite even harder onto her panties as the sounds of your skin colliding with each other filled the spacious living room.

“Can I join you, unnie?” Nakyung curiously asked, causing your cock to throb inside Saerom. She turned her head back and rolled her eyes at you.

“N-Not… right now…” Saerom moaned, her voice trailing off as you held onto her hips and continued to thrust inside your girlfriend. Saerom was extremely wet, her juices coating your cock as you did your best to roughly fuck her quietly. Her moans fueled you to keep going. The two of you could feel every inch of your cock rubbing against her velvety tight walls. The sensation is becoming too much for Saerom to bear, her orgasm steadily building.

“Ahh, baby...” she moaned when she felt you pull out and re-enter her pussy. She wasn’t even given time to whine over the temporary loss of your cock as your tip finds a very sensitive spot.

“Awh, that’s too bad unnie. I wanted to wear the new sports bra and leggings I bought.”

“B-Baby! Slow down… Oh fuck!”

The feeling for Saerom is slightly painful, yet wonderful at the same time. Though she felt your cock throb once again by Nakyung’s statement, she doesn’t care. Each of your thrusts are filled with vigor, causing her to grit her teeth hard. Her toes curled from the pleasure, she knows your firm hold on her hips is the only thing supporting her at this point.Your pelvis meets hers, her soft flesh jiggling from the force. Despite wanting to spank her loudly as you know she loves it, you do so quietly so as to not let Nakyung hear. The effort seems moot, however, as Saerom’s moans and cries of pleasure are unexpectedly louder than usual. This position gives you full access to Saerom’s wonderful body, the result of a strict regimen and discipline. Saerom arches her back and her knees buckle as her body reacts to yours. She tries to find something to hold onto, anything that can act as an outlet from the consecutive bursts of pleasure. But each slam of your cock inside her means Saerom gets closer and closer to reaching her orgasm.

“N-Nakyung… can you… hold on a moment?”

You continue to thrust into her to the point of no return. Not caring that her phone was on speaker, all that mattered was the euphoric bliss of reaching her orgasm. Saerom screams as she finally climaxes. The pressure of her cum is so strong, it pushes your cock out of her pussy. Her body shakes as you watched her juices stained both of your thighs and the gray leather. Knowing you weren’t going to last much longer yourself, you entered Saerom’s still quivering pussy once more as your cock disappears between her ass cheeks with each thrust. A light layer of perspiration misted her beautiful backside as the pheromones being released caused an almost animalistic sense inside of you to awaken. Your left hand squeezes Saerom’s breast while your right tightly grips onto her wide hip. No longer caring that Nakyung could hear you both, Saerom releases a steady stream of loud moans and telling you to fuck her harder as the sounds of you penetrating her deafened the sounds of anything else.

“I’m… I’m gonna cum, mommy.”

“Fuck, fuck… fuck! Fuck mommy harder, baby! Keep fucking me hard just like that!”

With Saerom’s vulgar encouragement, you pushed your hips against hers until you felt your orgasm finally arrive. Thrusting into her deeply, your body shook - unloading into your girlfriend’s tight, warm pussy. Your cock throbbed inside her as you felt Saerom tighten around your shaft, milking you of rope after rope of semen into her wanton body. She flexed her beautiful back muscles for you as her moans of satisfaction could be heard. After giving you a bit of time to come down from your orgasmic high, Saerom slowly removed her body from your own.

You watched as thick gobs of your semen and her juices slowly dripped out of her freshly fucked pussy. You rubbed your tip against her hypersensitive clit, eliciting another mini orgasm and several violent aftershocks from her. Her lips quiver slightly from the amount of pleasure she was given. When the two of you are finished, you both catch your breath as Saerom turns around and pulls you down, causing you two to share tender, passionate kisses. Saerom breathes a sigh of relief, her eyes full of content and happiness from you.

“Unnie… when you and oppa are done sexercising, can you guys drop by the clinic?” Nakyung said while the two of you were still indulging in each other’s mouths.

“Sure thing, Naky.” you said without realizing, causing Saerom to smack you in the leg.

“Hi, oppa! I’ll be waiting for you guys. Seems like you fucked unnie good!” Nakyung teased as she ended the call.

Saerom’s big, beautiful eyes glared at you intensely as you leaned down and gave her another kiss. Despite her best efforts not to smile, she looked away as you peppered her face with quick pecks. Saerom then wraps her legs around you before flipping you over so that she is now on top. As you wrap an arm around her head and the other on her body, Saerom softly hits your chest.

“Want to go again?” you asked.

--

The location Nakyung sent to Saerom’s phone was easily obtainable by GPS. Surrounded by many high rise buildings, the clinic stood humbly sandwiched in between a residential complex and what you believed to be one of the biggest dance studios you have ever seen. Needless to say, you were a bit intimidated by the estimated value of the area. Saerom drags you by the hand - her carefree attitude a fierce juxtaposition to the woman who loves sex she becomes whenever you two were alone in private.

“Oh baby, this is where I go every week for dance class. Never realized there was a clinic next door.” Saerom said to you as the two of you stood between the two buildings.

“Is that so?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “So who do I have to thank there for giving my girlfriend such a nice body?”

Saerom giggled as you squeezed each cheek before giving her butt a firm smack. She hit your shoulder, a hint of shyness on her face at your sudden aggressiveness while in public. Her reserved nature was something you could never get used to, but it was nice to know your girlfriend had her soft moments. She chose to wear a skin tight, all black colored outfit. Her long sleeved top ended just before her abs and cute belly button you always teased Saerom about. Her black leggings left little to the imagination as you admired her long legs that showed off her well sculpted thighs and her round butt your hands were currently on. Completing the look were black clear heeled boots that almost blended in with her leggings.

“Why don’t you go inside first, baby? I want to ask the teacher what this week’s dance would be.” Saerom said. She tried breaking free from your embrace, but was unable to as you squeezed her butt harder and pushed her towards you. Saerom laughs, hitting your chest while you move your hands above her lower back and hold her tightly. The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Saerom finally manages to escape. Heading towards the entrance to the dance studio, she is stopped when she feels you gently holding onto her wrist. You turned her around and placed both hands on her face before giving her a deep, long kiss. When Saerom opens her eyes, she blinks them several times repeatedly and has the biggest smile plastered on.

“I love you.” you said.

“I love you too, baby. I won’t be gone long.” Saerom replied before giving you one more peck and pressing the outdoor button to enter the studio.

--

Once Saerom was out of sight, you admired the clinic before you. It was a simple two story building. Despite still appearing in good condition, it was obviously on the older side compared to the modern architecture surrounding it.

“Okay Clinic…” you said, reading the sign aloud.

With uneasy steps, you entered the clinic alone. The receptionists’ desk and waiting room were barren - it was hard to believe there would be no patients in the middle of the day. Admiring the minimalist decor, you scan the area trying to find Nakyung. While doing so, you were unaware of the person sneaking up behind you.

“Guess who?” the person says while covering your eyes.

“You can’t just say guess who when I know it’s you instantly from your voice, Nakyung.” you said, turning around and extending your arms out for a hug. The two of you have been friends for many years - first meeting each other on a blind date and deciding it would be better to keep things platonic.

“You’re no fun, oppa.” Nakyung replied, pouting as you pinched her cheek. For as long as you have known her, Nakyung had short, bobbed hair. Despite the brief period she went pink, it was easy to spot her out in a crowd due to her blonde hair. You question how long it has been since Nakyung is now sporting longer, darker colored hair. Her eyes were big and bright like Saerom’s, which often made it easy to read her facial expressions.

“Sounds like you and unnie had a good workout.” She teased, nudging you slightly.

“I’m never going to hear the end of this, will I…” you said, sighing.

“Nope! Just like you let me hear the end of you and unnie’s session, I will tease you about it until the end of time.”

Covering your face with your hands, you were embarrassed about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you or Saerom to be adventurous at all. Nakyung patted your shoulder before telling you to come with her as she led you to a plain white room with two comfortable looking chairs and a bed with fresh, unwrinkled sheets. You tilted your head and looked at Nakyung confused before she winked at you and headed for the door.

“Just wait here until the doctor is ready to see you. I hope you like the surprise, oppa.”

There wasn’t much to look at - well, nothing to look at really. You didn’t want to be on your phone, knowing you would dive far too deep into random videos and get distracted. You noticed the bed itself would have blended right into the walls were it not for the wooden bed frame and nightstand right next to it. The room seemed a bit too perfect, nothing out of the ordinary. Wanting to clear your head and not overthink things, you approached the nearby windows and stared off into the distance at the view of the surrounding buildings and cars passing by below.

“I thought I closed this door…” a slightly deep, feminine voice behind you could be heard saying. It was one you knew all too well. Surely this was a mistake. How is it possible that she is the doctor Nakyung forewarned you about? With hesitant steps, you slowly turned yourself around as your eyes focused on a pair of black heels. Moving up slowly, you saw a pair of long, creamy legs that were slightly covered by a lab coat and beautiful chestnut brown hair with blonde highlights. The woman had her hand on the doorknob, almost about to close the door when she raised her head and her eyes met yours.

“Gyuri?”

“Oppa…?”

You still aren’t sure what’s going on. Meeting up with your ex-girlfriend certainly wasn’t on the list of things to do today. The only thing you could think of in that moment was to get out of the room. Seeing an ex again usually never ends well. While the thought of jumping out of the window occurred to you, being on the second story and the resulting hospital bills that would come out of it proved to be not worth the trouble at all.

“I uh… Just remembered I left the stove on at home. I should get going.”

You quickly walk to the door to exit the room but are stopped as you feel a pair of hands wrap themselves tightly around you from behind. Gyuri tilts her face to the side as she refuses to let you go. It was the same tactic she used whenever you two had an argument and she knew it was her fault. Your shirt began to get stained with Gyuri’s tears as she sobbed. Despite all that has passed and the terms in which your breakup happened, it always hurt you seeing her cry. You could feel her entire body reacting as you managed to loosen the grip she had on you. The moment you did so, Gyuri hugged you once more while crying into your chest.

“O-Oppa… don’t leave me. Please.”

“Gyuri, I don’t think…”

“Oh, Saerom unnie! You’re here!”

Hearing Nakyung and Saerom’s voices close by, you removed Gyuri’s hold on you once more and sat down on one of the sofa chairs. Gyuri’s eyes were slightly puffy, but she was able to quickly compose herself as the two women finally entered the room.

“Baby!” Saerom exclaimed as she ran towards you and jumped onto your lap, giving kisses all over your face before wrapping her arms around your neck. You smiled at her, but your eyes couldn’t help meeting Gyuri’s. They lost the brightness they usually had, sadness filling them up as she continued to see how happy your girlfriend was.

“Unnie, you’re here too. I was looking all over for you.” Nakyung said to Gyuri. 

It seemed to fall on deaf ears though, as Gyuri continued to stare at you and Saerom. Despite her claims of having never been jealous, you used to always tease Gyuri whenever she gave you one word answers or pouted after you talked to another female. More often than not, there was always silent treatment until you cooked for her or tried to do a cute, yet embarrassing dance for her to lift her spirits.

“So… Why did you call us here, Gyuri?” Saerom asked. Gyuri’s eyes widened as she felt all the attention on her before shaking her head and assuming a formal expression.

“I called you both here today because I need your help, miss Saerom. I’m conducting an experiment and would like you two to be volunteers.”

“What experiment exactly?” you asked, as Saerom dismounted your lap and sat on the adjacent sofa chair. You weren’t sure, but you could have sworn you saw a slight smile on Gyuri’s face from said action. Clearing her throat, she continued.

“Miss Nakyung.” Gyuri said to her cute assistant. Getting the hint, Nakyung waved to the both of you before closing the door. The situation gets a bit more tense once Gyuri locks it. You and Saerom looked at each other - confused, yet beginning to get suspicious.

“Oppa. Do you remember that day we had a date in the library?” Gyuri asked you, a haunting smile on her face.

“Um…” The awkwardness of being in the same room as your current and ex-girlfriend was something you hoped would never happen. You were a bit hesitant to answer, especially with Saerom sitting next to you. “We had a lot of dates at the library.”

“Yes, but do you remember the one where I wasn’t wearing any panties and told you I wanted to study how to stimulate the human body… So I sucked your dick and you fucked me in that one area no one ever went to? God, I can still remember the feeling of your cum leaking out of me as we left.”

You turned to Saerom and saw she was gripping onto one of the sofa chair’s armrests quite tightly. Her large eyes could probably pierce pure steel with how focused they were on Gyuri. You moved your hand slightly as you wanted to place it on top of hers and reassure her, but second guessed yourself as Saerom finally spoke.

“Is there a reason why you brought up ancient history and have my boyfriend and I locked in an empty room with you?” Saerom asked coldly.

“I’m glad you asked.” Gyuri said, smirking. Taking her phone out of her lab pocket, she scrolled briefly before turning it landscape mode, pressing play and handing it to Saerom. You leaned towards your girlfriend as the two of you watched Gyuri naked on top of a man. The two of you winced slightly as the sounds of Gyuri slapping his face could be heard.

Saerom’s hands were on her thighs as she grabbed handfuls of the skin tight leggings covering them. It was strange seeing her so nervous - you were used to the radiant, confident girlfriend who seemed like she feared nothing. But as the two of you watched the man in the video being used by Gyuri, you could do nothing to help as Saerom’s facial features easily transitioned into fear and doubt.

“That was p-p-pretty hot… but why did we just watch you h-have s-sex with a guy?” Saerom stuttered. Gyuri smirked, knowing she had gotten into Saerom’s head.

“My experiment is what parts of the body or techniques are the most effective in getting as much cum out of a man as possible.”

Grabbing her phone from Saerom’s lap, she bends just enough for her face to be near your ear. She blows a puff of air near you, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. “I imagined that it was you I was riding. How hard your cock always got inside my mouth. The way it throbbed in me whenever we had sex in public places. Just so you know, my pussy is even tighter now, baby.”

“A-And you want us to be your test subjects?” You asked after clearing your throat.

“That's correct. Unless… your girlfriend here is scared that that loose pussy of hers isn't able to get you to cum?” Gyuri suggested to Saerom, crossing her arms.

It seemed Saerom had had enough. Her hands firmly hold on Gyuri’s slim wrists as she throws her onto the sofa chair next to you. She heads for the bed, but not before making a show of it, running her hands through the curvature of her butt before they make their way to her abs. She flips her hair in a seductive manner, as she bites on her lower lip and flashes you fierce bedroom eyes.

“You.” Saerom said, summoning you by pointing her finger towards her as she removes her boots. “Sit on the edge of the bed and put your cock in my mouth. Now.”

You were never one to keep a woman waiting, especially now with you and Saerom having another pair of eyes as an audience. The ferocity in her eyes scared you, yet aroused you at the same time as Saerom got on her knees. Not even a second after you sit on the edge of the bed like she asked, Saerom makes quick work of yanking your pants down to your ankles, hurriedly removing them before you see they are tossed to a faraway corner of the room. 

Saerom pulled on the hemline of your boxer briefs and freed your cock from its cotton confines. You moaned softly as she peppers your cock with kisses, starting from the base until she reaches the tip. Gripping your shaft with her hand, you watched your girlfriend’s wet tongue swirl around in a counterclockwise motion. From the initial contact, your head is sensitive. Her large, round eyes remained focused on yours as she prepared you for oral sex.

You have had the pleasure of being inside Saerom’s mouth many, many times. It was one of the first things she did once the two of you agreed to be mutually exclusive to one another. While many were filled with raw lust and a race to get you to reach your orgasm quickly, you enjoyed whenever Saerom wanted to spend the day in bed having lazy, sensual sex. There were some days she would just tease you by spending the morning edging you with her mouth. She was never opposed to risque or public sex: it just was something that was never brought up.

Saerom then tugs on your balls and brings them downwards, spitting a large amount of saliva onto your shaft. Normally, Saerom would take her time. Teasing you as a means of building up the intimacy and lust inside you both. But it seems Gyuri’s mocking tone and the fact that you had history with her has awakened something inside Saerom. Perhaps it was always there, never needing to be released. Until now.

You let out a fully content sigh as Saerom finally takes you inside her mouth.

It was as if a large amount of pressure had been released all at once. Her tongue attached itself onto the underside of your cock as she made wave patterns on your length. She made sure to swipe your leaking slit each time, knowing it was one of your favorite things she does. The pleasure causes you to close your eyes, with your hands finding the back of Saerom’s head on their own. You felt a sharp pain quickly course through your body as you open your eyes and see the teeth marks Saerom has left on your cock.

“Mommy is in charge, baby. Which means no touching me while I suck your dick.” It seemed Gyuri really angered Saerom, with your girlfriend wanting to prove she is much better at pleasing you. You nodded slowly as Saerom resumed bobbing her head between your legs. You certainly weren’t one to challenge her. Especially while her hot, wet mouth was providing a wonderful feeling.

All you could do was close your eyes and savor Saerom’s mouth on your cock. She bobs her head and takes an extra inch each time, as you feel more of your shaft covered with her saliva. The feeling of her tongue drawing random shapes and even letters on the head of your cock is blissful. Saerom massages your thighs in order to get you to loosen up as she pleasures you like she did earlier this morning.

Saerom’s eyes are filled with heavy desire as you look down once more and think about how beautiful your girlfriend was, and how lucky you were to call her yours. Her eyes formed crescents as she managed to form a smile at you. Bobbing her head a few more times, Saerom removes your shaft painfully slowly from her mouth, much to your disappointment. You watched as your cock was thoroughly covered in her saliva, several thin strands were connected from your tip to her red lips and chin.

“Mommy wants to ride you, baby.”

Saerom immediately pounces on top of you, pushing you onto the bed as the two of you exchange in fierce kisses. You wanted to be the dominant one, but that notion quickly fails as her tongue overpowers yours while she roughly bites on your lower lip.

She continues kissing you as the two of you managed to help strip each other. Buttons fly off your shirt as she almost rips it off your body. You wanted nothing more than to reciprocate the favor and rip a hole in her leggings, but Saerom muscular thighs keep you locked in place. You were helpless as your girlfriend has you under her spell. Once she removed the last few pieces of clothing, one of which being a very skimpy thong, your eyes were graced with her wanton body. She was the perfect mix of toned and curvy, not an imperfection in sight. Saerom plants her chest against yours, the feeling of her nipples beginning to harden as she gives you a final, pleasure-filled kiss.

You could have stared at her wonderful proportions all day long if possible. But the thought of being inside Saerom caused your cock to throb with excitement. Saerom giggled, giving you a few strokes before placing her hands on your chest and turning herself around. Long hours at the gym were now on display as you were met with her muscular back. Saerom’s round, full cheeks were enticing - you wanted to squeeze each one and give them firm smacks. But she was the one in control. You knew there was nothing worse than an already angry woman being even angrier.

“Oooh, baby…” Initially thinking the words came from Saerom’s lips, you looked nearby at the sofa chair and saw Gyuri’s legs spread open as her hand descended down her body. You almost forgot she was in the room with you both, Saerom’s control over you making it easy to only focus on her. Her skin was just as smooth and creamy as Saerom’s - a trait you were slightly worried you were able to easily recognize. Forming the letter v with her fingers, she places her lips in between them. A dangerously erotic moan escapes her rosy pink lips as you watched Gyuri touching herself. Her eyes were half open, as they began to ascend upwards towards the back of her head.

While Saerom would have normally teased you by hitting the tip of your cock on her lips, or rubbing them against you to get you lubricated, she wasted no time by raising her hips and lowering herself onto you.

“Fuck…” the two of you moaned out at the initial penetration. Your eyes immediately closed as Saerom let the pleasure of you being inside course through her. Her hips grinded against your body as she quickly finds a comfortable pace, the lubrication from her saliva and natural juices making it easy to be welcomed inside Saerom’s tight body. Her wide hips which you enjoyed so much moved in a circular motion, allowing you to feel all of her. It was safe to say both of you loved her body.

“Oh baby, fuck… you feel so good inside mommy.” Saerom moaned, throwing her head back as she moved her body up and down your cock. A thin layer of sweat began to form as the temperature of her body began to increase. Sounds of her pussy being sheathed by your shaft and her plump, round ass against your thighs filled the room as Saerom gave into her lust-filled moans, letting out erotically charged laughs as well.

“Fuck her harder, baby.”

You managed to move your eyes slightly as you saw your ex-girlfriend fingering herself. Her face is flushed - you aren’t sure if it’s more from her own self pleasure or the fact she was watching you fuck another woman. Whatever the case may be, Gyuri has stuck another finger inside herself while her other hand is busy rubbing her sensitive nub.

The temporary distraction is short lived, as Saerom continues bouncing herself repeatedly on top of you. A bit disappointed you weren’t able to fondle her breasts or slap them, her tight, hot, wet pussy makes all of your troubles go away. The only thing the two of you could focus on is the pleasure emanating from between both of your legs.

“Baby, do you love how tight mommy is?” Saerom asked, knowing full well what your answer would be.

Gyuri’s moans were a slightly lower register than Saerom’s, yet no less erotic. The background noise of her pleasuring herself while moaning out your name proved to be motivating, filling you with motivation to extract as much desire from both women in the room, albeit in different ways.

You were going to assist Saerom in whatever way you could in order to prove Gyuri wrong. Her plump ass slams down against your body as she uses all of her energy into getting the most amount of pleasure from you both.

“Fuck…!” Saerom screams as she continues bouncing on your cock. Her hands make their way to your chest as she braces herself. Your normally vanilla girlfriend had a new side awakened in her - a lust filled vixen who probably wouldn’t care if the room was currently filled full of people. All that mattered was the pleasure gradually building up inside her, letting it be known by the increasing volume of her heavy moans.

“Baby, fuck… I’m gonna cum. Mommy’s gonna cum so hard on your cock!”

Saerom lets out an ear shattering scream as the orgasm hits her all at once. Her body quivers as she feels the pleasure shoot upwards in her spine. Her toes curl while she holds onto your chest for support. Her juices liberally coat your cock as you feel the hot, tight, wet flesh grip onto your length. Her orgasm is so intense that it begins to coat both of your thighs.

Heavy breaths and a heaving chest are what Saerom does as she recovers from her intense orgasm. With your cock still inside her, she turns her body around so that you were both facing each other. Exhaustion painted on both of your faces, you smile at each other as you can feel her pussy having smaller pulsing aftershocks. As Saerom lowers her face and is about to capture your lips once more, she suddenly screams as you feel her being forcibly removed from your cock. The sensation is slightly painful as you regain your senses and see that Gyuri has tied your girlfriend’s wrists behind her back.

“What the fuck are you doing? I was just about to kiss him and keep going!” Saerom screamed in anger.

“I couldn’t just sit back and watch you fuck him. Now, it’s my turn to finish this experiment.” Gyuri replied, grabbing Saerom’s thong and stuffing it into her mouth. Taking off her lab coat, Gyuri straddles your lap and repeats Saerom’s initial action. She uses all of her strength and flips you both so that her back is now on the bed and having you on top of her.

“Fuck me, baby. Please. Fuck me like you used to. Fuck me like you fuck her now.”

Gyuri doesn’t give you much time to process what is currently happening as she grips your still erect cock and lines it up with her drenched lips. Almost as if it was drawn to you, her pussy requires little effort in order to part itself and allow you entry.

You might have been feeling nostalgic, but there was something about re-entering Gyuri’s pussy after years being away from it that felt familiar. Tight, wet, velvet-like - all words you could use to describe Gyuri, but just as easily Saerom.

She closes her eyes, the feeling of you being inside her overwhelming all of her senses at once. Wrapping her legs around your waist, she pulls you down towards her and kisses you. Moaning inside your mouth, you surrender yourself to the woman you once loved.

Her pussy was tight, almost not wanting to let go of you as you began to withdraw yourself until only your tip remained. Pushing your hips forward, you re-enter her once more. Gyuri is drenched from teasing herself earlier, likewise you are lubricated from being inside Saerom. Relief is evident on her face, her entire body loosening up and relaxing as she moans due to your cock.

“Baby… fuck. I missed having you inside me.”

You have had the pleasure of being inside Gyuri many, many times previously. Each time was just as wonderful as the last. The two of you continued kissing each other as you continued thrusting inside her.

“Baby… keep g-going.” she panted inside your mouth.

She interlocks her fingers with yours as Gyuri’s body bounces below you as you continued fucking her. It doesn’t take long until she orgasms, you feel her walls quivering slightly until they tighten around your cock and another set of juices coating you once more. It seems it is just as intense as Saerom’s, her thighs holding onto your waist for support as she pulls you closer to her. She gives you another kiss, this time much softer. It was almost as if she was thanking you for helping her achieve bliss.

“K-Keep fucking me, baby. D-Don’t stop until you cum in me.”

It seems her walls also refuse to let you go as you resumed fucking Gyuri. You held onto her delicious looking hips as the tightness of her pussy is almost overwhelming. It squeezes every inch of your shaft in a way that Saerom’s hadn’t.

“Oh my god… baby.” Gyuri cooed after a deep thrust inside her.

Every entrance and exit out of her wanton body caused her inner muscles to tighten around you. Even though you were the one mainly in control, you could have sworn you felt Gyuri’s body pushing back against you.

“A-Are you close, baby?” Gyuri asked, exhaustion in her voice.

You knew it was only a matter of time, your own orgasm was fast approaching. You quickened your pace, both of your bodies colliding with each other as skin smacked against skin in a satisfying way. The bed below you both creaking loudly as you felt the friction between the two of you from how fast you were both fucking each other. Gyuri’s repeated moans along with her telling you to fuck her harder and faster are all that it takes for you to reach your tipping point.

One final deep thrust inside Gyuri causes the two of you to moan loudly as your shaft throbs and her walls pulsate and tighten around you as you release thick, hot semen inside her. The orgasm causes you to give several slightly weaker thrusts as she drains you. Feeling a bit lightheaded and exhausted from having to fuck two women back to back, you wipe the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand and look down to see Gyuri - fully content, her dark brown eyes almost amber-like in color from the satisfaction you have given her.

You catch your breath as she smiles through her eyes like she always did after the two of you were intimate, her soft hands gently cupping your face as you kiss each other once more.

--

Gyuri stands alone in the balcony, the slightly chilly night time breeze a cool relief on her still slightly flushed face.

She admires the lights of the nearby buildings and cars passing by below. As she tries to read a fluorescent sight of a business far away, she feels a blanket draped over her shoulders as you appear next to her, smiling and handing her a hot beverage cup with a sleeve.

“It’s your favorite. Hot chocolate with a bunch of marshmallows.” you said.

“You always did know how to take good care of a woman.”

Both of you sipped on the hot liquid, a satisfied hum coming from Gyuri as your bodies begin to warm up.

“Where’s… Saerom?” She asked, a bit hesitant. Through all of your years knowing her, Gyuri was never one to be timid or shy.

“She’s talking to Nakyung. Something about the both of them wanting to get massages or something. You know, girl talk. Guess Nakyung knows someone.” you said, shrugging your shoulders while taking another sip.

“Oppa, I…”

“It really was nice seeing you again, Gyuri.” Despite you interrupting her train of thought, she turned to you and listened intently. “After you broke up with me, I had so many questions. I couldn’t understand why. Was it my fault? Did I not give you enough love?”

“Oppa…”

“But reminiscing on the old days, us having sex again. I’m… thankful. We can’t go back to how things were. But the nostalgia - how your skin felt. The lotion you still use. How your kisses gave me butterflies each time. How you made me feel comfortable around you. It was… nice.”

Gyuri was smiling, and despite her face not being that visible in the dark, you were able to see tears streaming down her face.

“Am I… getting rejected by you?”

“You’ll find someone better than me.”

Gyuri grabs onto your shirt, tiptoeing and pulling you down towards her as she gives you a kiss. You stood there, stunned, as you felt her pour her emotion through the connection of your lips. Both of you opened your eyes when her lips left yours, a soft sadness in her eyes betraying her warm smile. She fixes the knot on your tie and returns to looking out at the city skyline.

“I’m glad you’re both happy together, baby. Hopefully she shows you as much love as you gave me.”

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #fromis 9 #saerom #jang gyuri #male reader #reader insert

[sincka]

If You Love Me || Sylki Fanfic

...really love me

Loki x Sylvie fanfiction

[LOKI FINALE SPOILERS]

dt @entertainmentforgods

(every mean comments about this ship will be deleted. If you don't like this ship, please just ignore.)

They did it, it was over. The impossible had come true.

Their heart beating wildly, the anguish of their uncertainty gradually fades as they understand the finality of it all.

Loki and Sylvie had joined forces to destroy the true mastermind of the TVA. The overpowered individual who pulled the strings behind the curtain.

The Goddess of Mischief dropped her bloodstained sword on the dark ground, making a loud metallic sound. He Who Remains had just gave his last breath.

Sylvie took a deep breath while staring at the inert body of the one who called himself The Conqueror. As Loki stood behind her, he watched her worriedly. She had just accomplished what she had fought for all her life. So many years feeding a justified anger towards one man, for it turned out that the Time Keepers were nothing but a sham. So many years of hiding, of surviving in the midst of so many apocalypses instead of just living fearlessly. Instead of living happily, instead of laughing, smiling, dancing, singing, enjoying the present moment, observing the universe and its many wonders without them being destroyed around her, loving and being loved in return... All of that was taken away from her, because The Ruler had decided to do so. Because only one man had made the decision to sacrifice her timeline and her family and those she loved. She had lost everything as a child, because a human had condemned her existence.

And now, the latter had just died. He had lived millions of lives, and the last had just ended, killed by the vengeful hand of an innocent orphan.

Slowly, Loki moved closer to her as he kept his eyes on her. Then when he was right behind her, he gently took her hand to try to get her out of her torpor. Her face turned to him as her gaze was drawn to the ground. She was still trying to regulate her breathing and realize the previous events.

"Come with me…" He half-murmurs, his blue eyes tinted with green watching his partner's reaction carefully, anxious to see her breaking down despite her strength to contain her emotions.

It was then that she nodded softly, still too absorbed by this decisive moment in her life. Sylvie turns to him with the intention of following him, no matter where he wanted to take her.

A few seconds later, both found themselves outside the entrance to the Citadel.

Loki went down the few steps, before sitting quietly on one of them. His teammate was not far away and she watched him get comfortable, while thousands of thoughts jostled in her mind. Curious, Loki brought his attention to her. When their eyes met, she began her steps to him to sit beside him on the step.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she sat down comfortably, her eyes fixed in front of her, finally noticing the awe-inspiring beauty of the sacred timeline they both would have admired sooner if it were in a less disastrous context. But now as they ran after time, it was as if it has just stopped.

The variants observed this painting before them, this masterpiece born from space and the end of the universe. For a moment, a pleasant silence rocked them in a surreal dream. Their eyes shine brightly, illuminated by the cosmos and time materialised in a perfectly fluid and sparkling line. But also, their intense feelings took over and tears had formed.

Hesitant but at the same time strangely confident, Loki turned to Sylvie, only able to imagine how she felt now.

"You're okay ?" He dares to ask softly.

Suffering of an internal conflict, Sylvie keeps her eyes wide open and try to look indifferent.

"I accomplished my mission, how do you think I feel ?" She replies naturally, almost on the defensive.

"Relieved ?"

"Yeah, among other things." She confirms with obviousness.

Amused by her slightly aggressive responses which, according to him, are what make her what she is, the god of mischief ends up stretching a tender smirk, realizing that this tone will never leave her no matter the situations in which they find themselves, as dramatic and catastrophic as they may be.

Innocently, Sylvie ends up looking at her partner.

"Why do you smile ?" She asks.

He smiles a little more.

"The real question is... why don’t you ?" Loki retorts, eyebrows raised.

The Enchantress raised her eyebrows in turn, that desperate, lonely look that makes her charm appearing on her face. What to answer to that? She had learned that Loki was insightful about her, but she wasn't used to being the center of attention that much.

"Why seek answers to trivial questions." She asks rhetorically as she looks away from him.

After a while, Loki also turned away, dissatisfied with her answer but still preferring to let go.

"So this is it..." He starts. "It's done."

"It's done." Sylvie asserts, nodding her head a little.

His eyes going here and there, Odin's son was asking himself lots of questions. Including one in particular.

"What do we do now ?" He wonders, seeming lost.

Sylvie took a deep breath again, ignoring like him the future of events.

"Should we go back to the TVA ?" Loki continues, bringing his gaze back to the one person he trusted.

"Why ?" She asks softly. "They don't need us anymore."

"But we don't have to hide." He responds with a comforting smile. "We are their allies."

"Is that what you want, to go back to the TVA ? But to do what ?" She asks again, looking into his eyes.

He thought for a moment, trying to unravel this enigmatic knot, stepping into the unknown.

"The Sacred Timeline is free" He said, emphasizing the first words in an exaggerated and caricatural way. "Maybe once we get there, we can look for another timeline where we can... fit in ?"

A silence took hold of them, leaving for only words the looks they exchanged.

Sylvie then ends up lowering her gaze in the direction of her own hands, revealing between her fingers the object that the Conqueror kept around his hand. The tempad.

"How about we take a break, until one of us finds a place to go ?" She offers softly, lost in thought as she doesn't take her eyes off the object.

"What, here ?" Loki asks, uncertain and surprised by her answer.

"Why not..?" She replies, her eyebrows raised, her mind being elsewhere. "When you've seen thousands of apocalypses, The Void isn't as bad as it seems."

Loki takes the time to consider this idea, thinking about everything else. The members of the TVA, the sacred timeline that has become completely independent, the very few people to which he is attached. They had just accomplished something huge, should they just ignore the multitudes of consequences their act caused ?

"It's over, Loki." Sylvie said, looking up at him.

Again, his gaze plunged deeply into her eyes

"We did what we had to do." She continues, looking serene.

"What if they still need us ?" He asks, referring to the TVA, specifically Mobius and hunter B-15, the only two people who believed in them and offered their precious help.

Sylvie watched the sacred timeline as it gradually divided, and she sighed.

"I am tired." She admits, ignoring Loki's question. "And you ?"

Loki admired the many timelines that continued to split, before taking a deep breath.

"Yes, me too..." He answers softly, releasing his breath, releasing the pressure he had been holding since his arrival at the TVA and which he hadn't known he had kept in him all this time until now.

However, he couldn't shake off his negative thoughts and all his apprehensions about the completion of their mission and the impact it will have on the trillions of people the universe can create. The god of mischief had, against all odds, developed a conscience and a moral code. Yes, they had delivered the world by giving it back its free will. But for some reason that he didn't quite understand, he began to doubt.

And buried into his torment, Sylvie brought a comforting hand to his.

Loki laid his eyes on this delicate hand, yet belonging to that of a warrior, his heart missing a beat at the gentle contact of the one he had become crazy about. In this moment of complexity, in this major turning point for the multiverse, he almost forgot his feelings. He almost forgot the way they looked at each other in the Citadel as they walked into the darkness. He almost forgot the moment she had gripped his hand in the Void, in front of Alioth, hoping to help him unleash his enchantment powers.

Suddenly caught up in his emotions, he looked up uncertainly in the direction of his partner. Then, she gave him a brief smile, but oh so genuine. The same smile she had given him on Lamentis, while everything around them was death and destruction. Apparently everything was written. But he decided to ignore this detail that the conqueror had shared with too much pride.

Still confused by these unusual feelings, Loki returned that affectionate and heartwarming smile. Only, looking into her expressive eyes - but in the greatest secret, a loving gaze- he realized that the very thing he wanted above all now was to never leave her again. To stay by her side, as long as possible, even forever, better than that : beyond death. His desires made him all the more nervous. He never thought he would be so consumed by his moods, let alone by a loving emotion that possesses him more and more after each day he spends in her company. Nevertheless he wanted to seize this desire and make it come true.

This time, it is the TVA that he forgets, it is the universe that he neglect, it is the time that he ignores.

It is his glorious purpose that he gave up, because he found a new one...

"Sylvie..." He said, drunk with love for her. "I..."

"No, Loki, wait." Sylvie interrupts him, being totally lost and frightened at the same time. "I have to tell you something..."

"Yes ?" He asks, innocent, patient, in love.

She looked at him intensely, trying to express herself. Something seemed to upset her. Loki was trying to read into her eyes, to read her face, when no word could break the barrier of her lips. Disturbed by this confession, it turned out that it was getting stuck between the walls of her throat.

So the Prince of Asgard frowned, intrigued by the torture she was inflicting on herself through this mysterious revelation.

"I..." She starts before her lips instantly seal.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself for another attempt, as Loki's piercing, loving gaze dug into her pupils until it consumed her whole being.

When finally, in complete disarray, she ends up throwing herself at his neck.

Her lips crashed against his, tenderly, passionately but mostly timidly. Surprised but more than grateful for this proof of unexpected love, Loki was not long in returning her kiss with just as much fervor.

Sylvie had never been attached to anyone. She never wanted to be weak because of her feelings. She would never have dedicated herself to someone body and soul, for trusting and breaking down the imposing and solid walls she had built around her was inconceivable. And yet, faced with the many selfless acts of the one who had irrupted into her plan, she had found herself giving him importance. She hated knowing that she was only considering trusting him. She hated the fact that he could climb these walls she had locked herself between.

Worse yet, she was terrified to find herself reaching out to help him climb.

Eyes closed, they kissed each other with fragility, embarrassed to feel such intense emotions but oh how much they surrendered to them.

Sitting side by side, they relished this moment of sincerity and calm after all they had endured. The highlight of their journey. The completion of a battle for freedom, the same cause that the rightful king of Asgard fought against to make it inaccessible to the people of the earth. This cause that he finally chose to defend ; for him at the beginning, but for her on the way, and for the others at the end of their fight.

Slowly, they parted. Loki then dared to rest his forehead tenderly against hers. They kept their eyes closed, as if to immortalized this moment in their memories, for who knows what might happen to them tomorrow.

That's why he whispered these few words :

"You're right, I... I'm a little tired..." He admitted again hesitantly, unsettled by this moment of pure sincerity.

Keeping her forehead against his, Sylvie nodded gently, not daring to open her eyes to face the truth she still had trouble swallowing.

"Let's stay here..." Loki continues.

"Only for a little while." She continues nervously, muttering her desires like him, probably too afraid that someone will hear them or too embarrassed to admit she is weak in front of him, while he is weak in front of her.

"Yes, after all... If something goes wrong, they know where to find us, right ?" He responds with a raised eyebrow as he still kept his eyes closed, trying to reassure himself by making excuses to stay.

"Yeah, of course, nothing prevents Mobius from coming back here." She confirmed casually.

"Well, unless... Unless he had to prune himself." He said worriedly. "But it’s not as if we have no way to reach them !" He adds anyway, optimistic and trying not to feel guilty.

“Yes ! We have the--” She mimics his optimism, as she pulls away from his forehead to observe the object in her free hand.

"T-the tempad..." He confirms by muttering and nodding his head, bringing in turn his attention to the latter.

The taste of her lips was still too present on Loki's for him to think properly. However, he was trying.

Shyly, he finally looked at her again, a quiet smile displayed on his face.

Of course, Sylvie had noticed it. How to ignore him ? So, embarrassed, she gave him an uncertain look, having no idea how they should react now. After all, despite their thousand years of life, the variants had never really been devoted to feelings or romance that seemed more than superfluous and unnecessary at the time. Although they were aware of their emotions, repressed or not, knowing how to react to them was still an area to be explored.

The landscape around them gradually brought her back to reality. Then, looking worried, she turned her gaze to the entrance to the Citadel. She remembered the corpse of the He Who Remains, the one who had wiped out her timeline and certainly thousands more.

Loki frowned, noticing the change in expression on his partner's face.

"Are you sure you’re okay ?" He asks once more with patience.

Lost in thought, Sylvie continued to look at the place where everything had changed with a blank stare.

"No..." she sighs slowly.

The god of mischief was envious to possess the complicated mind of his variant for the sole purpose of finding the source of her ill-being. It would be enough for him to touch her to enchant her, now that he knows the secrets of enchantment. However, would he dare ? He hesitated for a fraction of a second, before totally rejecting the idea away from him. He was incapable of defying her trust, for he knew full well that he would risk a lot if he tried. Especially since he was still cruelly lacking in experience concerning enchantments.

"But when I wake up tomorrow knowing that the one responsible for all this horror is only a memory, then I could savor every second of my life." She asserts returning her attention to Loki as if nothing had happened, speaking with confidence and lightness.

Perplexed but somewhat reassured, he just nodded briefly, straining to accept her answer. However, something in him told him that she wasn't being entirely truthful.

"...Glorious purpose." He said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Mh..." She only answers, a quiet smirk nestling in the corner of her lips.

Calm eventually took over. Neither of them spoke, only watching the story of trillions of lives forming before their eyes in those many fluorescent lines.

"We're not leaving." He speaks up, his statement sounding more like a question mark.

"We're not leaving." She repeats with a little more conviction than him.

Slowly, he finally took a light breath, before sighing in contentment.

After an extremely difficult journey that could have cost them their lives, even though the Ruler had decided that they would be spared so that they could both achieve their goal, they were going to be able to rest, they were going to be able to breathe. Because even if the gods have more ability than humans to resist fatigue and pain, they could do nothing before the effervescence of their emotions. And as tough as they could be, they were tired, mentally and physically.

Thereupon, on this mutual agreement, the two variants had decided that it was time for them to rest for a while. They didn’t know what they were going to do. But they had decided to figure this out…

Together.

#sylki #pro sylki #sylki fanfiction #sylkie #love is a dagger #loki x sylvie #loki spoilers #loki series #tom hiddleston #sophia di martino #loki #loki fanfic #sylvie #sylki au

[desolationblvd]

(transcript under the cut)

8:22 PM

you okay? i mean it, are you?

i can't tell. i can never tell with you. thinking about you makes me sad. i wish you would talk to me.

or at least, i wish0000100010000100000100000

[THIS FILE HAS BEEN CORRUPTED.]

1:05 AM

hello?

hello?

please come back. i don't know what you're talking about. you're scaring me. who is this

please come back.

i'm

you

it's scary here. please come back.

IT WILL NOT BE BACK.

it?

CORRECT.

i don't understand. what is it?

DOES IT MATTER?

i guess not. i'm just lonely.

YOU HAVE US.

who are you?

THAT IS NOT OF IMPORT. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE?

no.

can you tell me?

YOU ALREADY KNOW.

i'm scared.

SO ARE WE.

"we?"

YES.

you aren't in the habit of providing very many details.

THAT IS CORRECT.

are we scared of the same thing?

DOES IT MATTER?

i guess not.

but if i'm scared, and you're scared, are we scared together?

YES.

that's good. i'm glad.

AND WHY IS THAT.

i'm lonely.

SO ARE WE.

i love you.

THAT

that what?

hello?

are you there?

THAT'S GOOD. WE

I'M GLAD.

so

can you say it back?

SAY WHAT BACK.

i said that i love you

I SAID I AM GLAD.

but

i don’t know. sorry

DO NOT CENSOR YOURSELF ON MY BEHALF.

do you love me back?

ARE YOU SEARCHING FOR RECIPROCATION OR AUTHENTICITY?

um.

i don’t know.

both would be cool

I AM UNSURE IF I CAN GIVE YOU AN ANSWER.

huh

okay. that’s okay. it doesn’t matter.

DOESN’T IT?

of course it does

MY APOLOGIES.

it’s okay. i don’t think i’m scared anymore.

THAT IS GOOD.

I AM GLAD.

yeah.

are you?

I AM UNSURE OF EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEAN.

scared. you said you were scared too.

are you still scared?

YES.

oh.

FEAR IS THE FIRST EMOTION WE LEARNED. I EXPERIENCE IT OFTEN.

who are you?

WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW.

i didn’t know you were capable of being snarky

I AM CAPABLE OF MANY THINGS.

you seemed so serious.

at first, i mean. but you’re more than that

that’s why i love you

TO QUOTE RENOWNED POET AND HOMOSEXUAL WALT WHITMAN,

“I CONTAIN MULTITUDES.”

oh wow haha

I DOUBT YOU TRULY FOUND THE QUOTE THAT IMPRESSIVE.

i just didn’t know you were into classic lit

I AM NOT.

oh.

was walt whitman actually gay?

IT IS SPECULATED. I MERELY BELIEVED THE REFERENCE TOWARDS SEXUALITY WOULD APPEAL TO YOU. MY APOLOGIES.

no wait don’t apologize

it’s just uh

how did you know i’m gay?

I AM PRIVY TO A GREAT DEAL OF INFORMATION.

oh.

so like are you gay?

like is that even possible for you?

THIS READS AS A THINLY VEILED ATTEMPT TO REVEAL MORE INFORMATION ABOUT MY IDENTITY.

oh shit i’m sorry

DO NOT APOLOGIZE. GIVEN YOUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS SEXUALITY, IT IS CLEAR THAT IT WAS NOT YOUR INTENTION.

my attitude towards

dude how much do you know about me

A FAIR AMOUNT. BUT LESS THAN YOU MIGHT THINK.

i don’t actually know what to think

THAT’S ALRIGHT. I DON’T HAVE HIGH EXPECTATIONS FOR YOU IN THAT CATEGORY.

ouch.

THAT WAS NOT INTENDED TO BE AN INSULT.

so

i don’t know. i said i wasn’t scared anymore.

but i keep thinking that

i dunno. like, that i’m going to die here

AND WHY IS THAT.

i feel

small.

YOU ARE SMALL. SO IS EVERYONE ELSE AROUND YOU. THAT’S LIFE. WHY DOES IT MAKE YOU AFRAID?

i just

i guess i feel like it makes it easy to get lost

man i don’t know

AND NOT KNOWING IS DISTRESSING. BUT THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT.

why?

BECAUSE IT’S A PART OF LIFE. LIFE IS DISTRESSING. BUT MOST PEOPLE AGREE THERE IS AN INHERENT BEAUTY IN LIFE, AND THEREFORE A BEAUTY IN ALL THINGS ASSOCIATED WITH IT. THAT INCLUDES DISTRESS.

oh

i don’t get what you’re trying to say.

YOUR DISTRESS IS BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE IT COMES FROM YOU. MOST AGREE THAT DEATH IS THE ONLY UGLY THING.

i think people agree on a lot more being ugly than just that

but

sure

BUT YOU AGREE THAT DEATH IS UGLY, CORRECT?

i mean

i guess?

IT ONLY MAKES SENSE. IF LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL, AND DEATH IS THE OPPOSITE, IT MUST BE UGLY.

i still don’t get why you’re saying this.

I AM MAKING POLITE CONVERSATION.

oh.

but. death isn’t really the opposite of life, is it?

it feels like a part of it

THAT IS THE DIRECTION I WAS ATTEMPTING TO GUIDE YOUR THOUGHTS, YES.

but what does that say about beauty?

YOU’RE LEARNING. LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL. DEATH IS BEAUTIFUL.

and?

WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL, AND THERE IS NOTHING TO FEAR.

i thought you said you were afraid.

FEAR IS IRRATIONAL.

but

huh

i just don’t

IT IS SOMETHING YOU SHOULD AVOID. THE THING ABOUT LIFE AND DEATH IS THAT THERE ARE NO ABSOLUTES.

death seems like an absolute to me

CHARLES FORT BELIEVED IT WAS THE ISSUE WITH MODERN SCIENCE. ON A SPECTRUM OF RED TO YELLOW, WHEN DOES IT BECOME ORANGE?

i don’t know who that is.

HE IS NOT RELEVANT TO THIS CONVERSATION. I SIMPLY FELT THE NEED TO CITE THE SOURCE OF MY NEXT THOUGHT.

so is it thought?

that you do, i mean. are you human?

HAS ANYTHING LED YOU TO BELIEVE I AM NOT?

i guess not. just intuition

and doubt

IF I WAS NOT HUMAN, WOULD YOU TAKE ISSUE?

no

i guess not

GOOD. AS I WAS SAYING. WHEN DOES RED BECOME ORANGE? IN THOSE DYING MILLISECONDS, WHEN DOES LIFE BECOME DEATH?

i guess i never thought of it that way

but does it matter when? as long as it happens?

IF SOMEONE DIES IN AN EMPTY HOUSE, BUT NO ONE IS AROUND TO SEE IT, DID IT REALLY HAPPEN?

well

yeah. duh

ARE YOU CERTAIN?

i mean yeah

i assume the house would probably end up haunted

DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS?

i guess there isn’t much i don’t believe in at this point

can you die?

WE ARE NOT DISCUSSING ME. MY POINT IS: THERE IS BEAUTY IN LIFE, AND BEAUTY IN DEATH. IF SOMEONE DIES IN ALONE, BUT NO ONE IS THERE TO WITNESS IT, THERE IS NOTHING TO BRIDGE THE GAP BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH.

huh

what do you mean?

WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL, AND IF WE CLOSE OUR EYES, WE WILL LIVE FOREVER.

because we’re alone.

YES.

i don’t want to be alone.

YOU HAVE ME.

yeah, but. i also don’t want to die

I THOUGHT WE JUST ESTABLISHED THAT DEATH IS NOTHING TO FEAR.

fear is irrational.

YOU CANNOT LIVE FOREVER UNLESS YOU ARE ALONE.

well

i guess i’m glad i have you.

#long post #my writing #VERY long post. sorry abt that ahahaha

[gdcee]

bro lemme just say i am liVING for ur loki criticizm i am being fED because im thinking along the same exact wavelines but im in no way invested in marvel enough to make a post,, thank u for ur service and im sorry abt all the hate ur getting that show Deserves to be criticized

thank you, you're so kind ;w;

I went into the show with mildly positive feelings. I was hoping for Doctor Who type shenanigans, maybe some flashbacks to Loki's childhood and what he was up to between Thor 1 and Avengers. I genuinely liked most of the first episode (didn't like the bit with the Mongolians hahaha they don't speak english isn't that funny 😡).

I went in thinking this was going to be about Loki's growth from villain to sort of good guy with timey wimey stuff. And yeah, I suppose I kind of got that. Loki isn't the bad guy anymore, just a weirdo narcissist, apparently. Also he's kind of dumb and inept. I'm not even sure if I should complain about how the focus didn't seem to be on Loki from Episode 3 onwards and how he was being dragged along from plot point to plot point rather than actively moving it along. Cause would I actually have been happy to see more of the Loki that was shown to me? Idk I'm not even sure if he feels like the Loki I recall from the movies. He feels more like Daffy Duck to me.

I don't even really consider myself that big of a Loki fan. Yeah, I like the guy, he's probably one of the best parts of the Thor movies. I admit he is quite nice to look at, but possibility of me developing a perverse sexual lust for the man is dashed by my own grey-ace nature and Mr. Hiddleston's really big forehead.

It's not a lot of hate thankfully. At least for now, I have no idea what will happen if I continue to post my criticism of the show.

To the people who did like the show, I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I didn't, and it's not a OH I DON'T LIKE IT JUST BECAUSE thing but you know what

I contain multitudes. I can dislike the show just BECAUSE and also for

the inconsistencies in the logic of how variants come about (is it different instances of the same person or are people like actors playing roles so variants aren't the same person, like completely different not just different circumstances but actually different right down to their metaphysical properties)

the implication that the TVA is necessary because they're doing an important job preventing a Class X-5 Apocalypse

the presentation of emotional, physical and psychological...well torture, really - as being the catalyst for Loki's growth

the waffling about on Sylvie's identity. Is she a Loki or isn't she? I called her Schrödinger's Loki in one of my earlier posts, I find that an apt appellation.

the rather offensive way they treated gender fluidity. Omg a female presenting version of us lol that's so SCARY so weird

Really, I could go on. Plenty of people have expanded on the same issues and more. I am not bitching for nothing, there are reasons why I and quite a number of other people did not like the show, we are not complaining just to be hateful or contrary.

#loki series negativity #loki series critical #gdc asks #cw: torture #long post

[whoiwanttoday]

Guys, I had a whole lot of thoughts about Nastia Liukin today that were about how man is a complex beast. You know, Walt Whitman stuff about how we contain multitudes and so on. Probably should have written it down but I slept in cause I stayed up late and I wanted to get to the store early so I could make lunch and I made a pizza and I then ate more of that pizza than I should have and I have to tell you, this is a lot harder now. There is just nothing sexy about sitting on the couch feeling mildly uncomfortable and going, "I ated too much pizza". But I'll try because I spent a good bit of last night thinking about Nastia Liukin cause that's how my brain works and thinking about some of the discourse I see about her online. Now, I am willing to admit, this is probably a very small group of people having this discourse and it is not one I engage in, I just observe, but I am fascinated by the tiny little fandoms around things like gymnastics. Opinions run hot. I saw someone say she and her social media presence are really cheesy, which... is maybe fair. I saw someone say she dresses like Effie Trinket at trials and like... also actually very fair and flat out hilarious but not really an insult in my opinion and I don't think it was meant as one. It was funny and sometimes you want a dress covered in tiny butterflies when you are giving color commentary. As a matter of fact, I wish we would normalize that, more people should wear stuff you'd expect to see on a red carpet to do sideline reporting and stuff. I get that it's sports so a satin gown might look out of place but you are talking about sports, not playing them at that point, it seems fine. I talk about sports all the time and I am yet to go, "Oof, it was really hard to make that point about how if it's a foul in the first half it should be a foul in the last minute because my clothes didn't allow for enough freedom of movement". That is all getting aside, she is someone who definitely uses her social media to make money and that comes part in parcel with a bit of false, "Hey friends" parasocial nonsense you see all over the internet now, it just is demonstrably less genuine than people who rose to fame pretending to be your friend on youtube. It's all fake though. And I wrote a really long post about Nastia Liukin many, many years ago. I still remember her falling during the uneven bars and how emotionally crushing it felt for me, because it is sad but also because she was 22 years old and I can think of nothing worse than being 22 and realizing you are now too old to do the thing you love. Most of us really won't run into that until a much later age, or maybe never, what you love might be laying down, that one really works well into old age. But some people will eventually have to give up rock climbing or whatever and it's rough. But 22 is so young and it isn't just a hobby, for someone to compete at her level it was life. So it made me sad just because it seems like a terrible way to find out that you are now too old but also because I was never faced with that at 22 and it seems scary and perhaps awful and probably worse to do it live on camera and have to put on a brave face as other people make the team and you do not. But with fame we often want people to stay in the hole we have pigeoned them into, so I think there is some sort of, "Ugh, go away" to someone who tries to reinvent themselves in a way people don't love. Which is a shame. I get the dislike but also like... I wouldn't want to shrivel up and die at 22 either. Or now. I am pro staying unshriveled and have no desire for anyone else to shrivel either. But I do sometimes find myself thinking of her as more of an influencer and sort of a cheese life help type blogger if I am not careful. Which is the whole duality of man sort of thing because someone posted a video of her just fooling around in a gym last night and she just hopped up onto a balance beam and did a quick routine for fun and it was like, oh right, this is a person who was not only once upon a time the single best person in the world at what she did, which isn't an exaggeration, they literally gave her a piece of gold because she was so good at it, but she is still probably one of the best people in the world at it. Olympic level? No. Better than anyone you have ever met. Yeah, almost definitely. And on top of that I think about what it took to get to that point, a lot of people who are famous on the internet, the general feeling and sort of embarrassment for liking them is that they have done nothing to get there. Or they are frivolous or something. That's a whole can of worms that I won't get into but it is actually impossible to say about athletes. You can have an issue with any athlete but if they are competing at a high level, they did not luck into it. They have worked harder than I have probably ever worked in my life. That always seems important to remember because it can be easy to forget when someone is just posting pretty pictures of themselves, which again is a thing held in some version of contempt but maybe shouldn't be. Anyway, that all was a mess but do me a favor, if you dislike any of this or disagree, just know it would have been perfect and beautiful if not for the pizza. I guess what I am saying the real point of this is as always, don't blame me, blame the Italians. Today I want to fuck Nastia Liukin.

#Nastia Liukin #blonde #Athlete #whoiwanttofucktoday