#It's a double date chapter

[geothewriter]

Vermillion Seas Cardinal Skies: Chapter 26 - Save the Date

What do a group of teens do when they've just arrived on an island paradise and are stressed to hell and back? A double date! Antics are sure to arise as the couples unwind at dinner.

--

Wow. Okay so. Yeah. Turns out Covid hangs on for a while. Still coughing, but it's almost gone. Thank goodness. Unfortunately, today's update time is SO out of wack. But I made it here!!!

Right. WELCOME BACK Y'ALL! Got a fun one today. :) We're continuing the trend of relatively short chapters compared to my norm, but this is another sweet one. So be ready. Be prepared. We've done it! Oh, and Happy (early) Valentine's Day!

As always, a MASSIVE thank you and a huge shout-out goes to @achillmango for her awesome editing. This wouldn't be as good as it is without you, friend. <3

Now, please enjoy Chapter 26 - Save the Date

Distant calls of a tropical bird, which he’s sure Uncle would recognize by its plumage alone, continuously filter through the nearby open window. A gentle breeze accompanies the natural sound, carrying with it the smell of ripening fruits ready to be plucked from the garden trees he once climbed as a boy. It is peaceful. Despite the sun shining on the opposite side of the house, Zuko has never felt more in touch with his inner fire. He isn't sure what’s causing the deeper connection, but perhaps it is his relief that the girl across the hall is recovering. Maybe it's because he helped. Maybe because she kissed him goodnight. Maybe it’s the quiet. He shakes his head. The early morning meditations are something he’s taken for granted in the past. He hasn’t been able to wake with the sun and truly relish in his routine for several days, maybe even weeks now. He sighs contentedly and continues his deep breathing exercises, thankful for a full night’s sleep. It’s poetic really, that the first time he’s had both the opportunity to do so, and the rested body to act on meditating, that Sokka unceremoniously flings the door to his room open to interrupt him. The other boy’s voice immediately exudes incredulity when he speaks. “Whaat? Not fair!” “What isn’t fair, Sokka?” He doesn’t change his form, and doesn’t open his eyes; this is likely a conversation that could wait for later. “I swear! I got up extra early just to talk to you.” “I’ve been up for two hours already, Sokka. The sun’s been up for three. I slept in.”  “There’s something deeply wrong with you firebenders.” The other boy deadpan grumbles. “Whatever.” When Sokka closes the door but very evidently stays in the room, Zuko sighs and turns himself around so that he’s still seated, but now facing the other boy. “I’m busy meditating, can’t this wait?”  Sokka immediately says, “No. I talked to Katara last night. I need to know. Is it true?”  “Is what true?”  “Gah! It’s like pulling teeth from a moose lion! Did my sister spare Yon Rah, and the people on the ship, and did the thing with the captain happen the way she said it did?” “Do you trust my word over hers? Whatever she’s told you, I’m sure it's true.” “Zuko.” He pauses and glares at him before kneeling on the floor to meet his eyes directly, speaking with conviction. “I just want to know that my sister is okay. I don’t care if she killed someone. I don’t care if she did a bad thing on your trip. I care if she’s okay. And I know you care about her, so tell me. Is. She. Okay.” His promise to Katara doesn’t apply anymore, right? Sokka already talked to her and it sounds like she shared everything with him. It wouldn’t be breaking the promise he made to her. Sokka’s form is locked in a sort of tenuous strain that is almost concerning when he speaks again, breaking Zuko’s concentration. “Look, I know you promised not to tell anyone, but…listen. Just tell me if you think she’s going to be okay? You talked to me at the temple before even going on that adventure. It’s only fair.” Zuko nods his head in defeat. “It’ll probably take some time, but it seems like the nightmares are gone, at least I didn’t hear any screams last night. I think she’ll be okay.” The other boy deflates in what Zuko can only assume is relief at his words. “Thank Tui and La. I didn’t want to have to fight you if she ended up hurting more.” “I wouldn't forgive myself if she did.” A beat, “You can’t believe you'd win that fight, right Sokka?” he adds with a small smile. “I know I wouldn't. But you know what would happen next?” “Suki?” “Yes. Suki.”

“She’d laugh at you, Sokka.” “Well…yeah, but afterward? She would take you down,” Sokka adds with a grin. “How–” He remembers watching her fighting techniques and knows that Sokka is right. “I need to watch her fight, learn some of–” “Now now, best buddy, you leave watching her to me.” He gives an uncomfortable grin, stands, and motions toward the door. “Come on, let's go downstairs and make breakfast for everyone! I have plans to explain!” “Sokka I–”  He knows there’s no food in the house, right? However; Zuko is pretty sure there are some root vegetables and maybe some good fruits in the trees out back in the overgrown garden. They can probably make a decent enough breakfast out of that before going into town for supplies. “Fine. I’m coming.”

Continue Reading on AO3.

[lunarharp]

the scrabblers and their bored boyfriends

[cartoonjessie]

Double Dated - chapter 12, in which Maui and Moana finally clear the air about their past. Or start reading from chapter 1 here. (New chapters get posted daily)

As they were seated on a bench that overlooked the ocean, they were quiet for a while, allowing old memories to wash over them like the waves that crashed onto the beach. And while these memories were still accompanied by the perpetual anxiety they’d experienced on the island, there were also remembrances of something sweeter - affection, even love. It was impossible to say it had all been bad, because that would be a blatant lie. Eventually, Moana was the first to speak up. “Why did you ask us to meet up - especially since, and pardon me for saying this - you don’t seem particularly ready for facing me - or your own emotions?” He chuckled and raised his eyes to the sky as he let out a deep breath, unable to even disagree with her on that. “Something had to change,” he admitted, his voice a little rough. “I was miserable."

[Read more here on AO3]

[my-world-my-stories]

.... Well, I just discovered something. Songbirds And Tigers will soon turn a year old in a week or so...

.... Where the HELL does the time go?!?

[xmicrophonyx]

So we all know how Iku likes putting herself into extreme and taxing situations. Do you think Nemu would like any of the stuff Iku does? Because I think there would definitely be enough strain on her body to keep her awake. (And maybe I want a RiNemIku polycule shhhh)

[hardlypartying]

“There’s, um,” He has never seen her fumble with her words, Rose taps her nails on the metal arms of the chair, “I have your mother’s ring— if you should ever want it.”

Astonished, Rafe cannot find himself able to respond to that. His head is full of cotton candy and his stomach suddenly sits still. His throat bobs with the words that won’t come to him.

“I saw the way you two were today and,” Rose bites her smile and nods at Kiara, “I’ve never seen her like that, or you for that matter.”

“I— it’s,” Rafe’s mouth opens and closes, completely losing all sense of articulation. Words leave his mouth with no idea what they’ll form. “I’m… we—”

Rose grimaces apologetically, knowing she’s just pulled the rug under Rafe. “I understand it’s early. You and Kiara probably don’t want to think about all that but, just wanted to let you know. It was always meant to be yours. I don’t mean to scare you or anything.”

There’s anything but fear running through him. Only the same weightlessness he felt when he broke his leg as the adrenaline pumped through his body to protect his mind from the pain. There’s no pain now, never was, just the absence of any fears because there’s something even more powerful coursing through him.   

Read chapter 17 of Kiara and Rafe’s Comprehensive Guide here

[seriousbrat]

Falls the Shadow, chapter 8 Read on Ao3

THE DARKEST DAYS, a multi-part, canon-compliant series spanning from 1975-1981, covering the events of the First Wizarding War. Follows Lily, Sev, and the Marauders through their final years at Hogwarts to the end of the war, as friendships are put to the test and the Wizarding World crumbles around them... READ FROM THE BEGINNING

CHAPTER 8: For Better For Worse --------------------------------------------

Vernon stammers. “What— that— you— I mean to say—” Petunia shoots Lily a dirty look and then places a soothing hand on his arm. This seems to rally him. “So, you know a few magic tricks, do you? Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Not especially,” James says, grinning. “That was a fairly bog-standard bit of Transfiguration. Of course, transfiguring inanimate objects into living thing’s always got its complications— it’s not really alive, you see, it’s just the illusion of life. The theory’s a bit murky, but there you are.”

From the looks on their faces he may as well be speaking Greek. Lily has to stifle a laugh.

At that moment the waitress returns bearing a tray loaded with their drinks; these she doles out, setting Petunia’s water on the beer mat that had recently been a butterfly. Petunia pushes it away from her with an expression of distaste.

“How’d you get here, anyway?” Petunia asks Lily. “Did you drive?”

“No,” Lily says, taking a sip of lager. “We Apparated. You know, when you—”

“Car at the mechanic’s, is it?” Vernon interrupts loudly, addressing James. “I suppose you drive some rusty, clapped-out old banger, don’t you?”

“Er,” James says, looking perplexedly at Lily. “What?”

“He’s asking what sort of car you’ve got,” Lily says heavily, sipping at her beer.

“Vernon’s got a Triumph Spitfire,” Petunia says glowingly, as if this is supposed to mean something to them.

“Oh, right— well, I haven’t got a car,” James says, shrugging. “I have got a fairly good racing broom, though, the Nimbus 1001— not the latest model anymore, but sound, wouldn’t change it for the world— does nought to seventy in under ten seconds.” He takes a swig of beer, oblivious to Vernon swelling with rage, a vein pulsing in his temple— from the look on his face Lily surmises that his Triumph Spitfire doesn’t do anything of the sort.

[benjineedssleep]

i just saw a blog with sebastian and a cat and i think i need to pick up my long fic again instead of fighting demons zombies with other stuff. i have Ideas ™️ but have several chapters before they can actually come into play. so i need to write. idt i can finish the whole thing before the spring semester starts but if i can finish summer y2 i'll [insert profanities here] and maybe buy myself a concert ticket or smth XD

[hartxstarr]

every so often i go through old posts on the manga blog and add/fix tags. and. i guess. i have to fix their names huh <- someone who just started rereading shikimori

[allylikethecat]

OH MY GOD!!!! The new chapter was so perfect. SHARING THE BED. And a DATE!!!! Omg. Soo excited (and terrified)

AHHH thank you so much for reading! I was worried the "there is only one bed" and "bed sharing" trope was too cheesy but this is my most self indulgent fic and the pure joy that I get when reading the whole "and there was only one bed" thing is ridiculous so I was like it's fine! It's happening!

and yesss Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George are going on a real DATE Fictional!George is ready to try and romance our dear Fictional!Matty! We shall see if he is successful lol He's got a little mental list going, he's like Fictional!Matty likes: red wine, bananas, blue raspberry vapes, tacos (?) and horses let's see what else he can come up with for the date lol Hopefully it goes well!

Thank you SO MUCH for reading and sending in this ask! I'm so happy you enjoyed the new chapter! I know I had a lot of fun working on it! I hope you enjoy the next one (date! date! date!) and that you are having a great Friday and an even better weekend!

❤️Ally

[letstrywritingmaybe]

So I think I probably will write the Guilty As Sin? song fic, so no polling cause I do have it sorta planned out. Did I write the outline down? Of course not, but we will see how it goes. For now I’m just going to continue having TTPD:TA on loop as per usual

A sorta unrelated but related addition: idk what it says about me that since the release the song I wake up in my head is My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys. Today however was The Alchemy 🩵

Unrelated update: I saw that an author I really enjoy posted a kaishi fic some time ago and I was super excited, but… I’m sorry not sorry but even when kaishi is canon I cannot and will not ever stand for the canon ship staying intact. Call me a hater but shinichi is only allowed to be with my queen or he dies alone and that’s final. The canon ship is still such a trigger to me. Any mention of them sets me off, it’s why I try to tag when I mention them too but rest assured, in a Lots of Love production they will never ever be endgame.

[monstersholygrail]

Free Use City Universe

Both arts from: mucknagabe on Twitter

New City, New Life

Chapter One (Hot Neighbor Wolf Hybrid x fem!reader)

Chapter Two (Orc Friend x fem!reader)

Chapter Three (Minotaur Boss x fem!reader)

Chapter Four (Dragon Headhunter x fem!reader)

Chapter Five (Bunny Hybrid Secretary x fem!reader)

Chapter Six (Hot Neighbor Wolf Hybrid x fem!reader)

Fics

Morning Routine (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

The Double Tip (Tentacle Monster x Bartender gn!reader)

Special Attention (IT Robot x Fem!reader)

Sugar Daddy! Minotaur Boss Headcanons

Read the Fine Print (Fox Hybrid History Prof x gn!reader)

Aftercare (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

Surprise Pregnancy (Bunny Secretary x fem!reader)

Selling of Souls (Demon Guard x fem!reader)

Something New (Drug Lord Deer Hybrid x fem!reader)

Productivity (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

Lore

Getting a promotion (Monsters x gn!reader)

Relationship Status’ (Monster Husband x fem!reader)

More on FUC relationships (Monster Husband x fem!reader)

Valentine’s Day in FUC (Monsters x gn!reader)

FUC Speed Dating (Monsters x gn!reader)

FUCC Acceptance Rate (Monsters x gn!reader)

Cheating in FUC (Monsters x gn!reader)

Drug Lord Deer Hybrid Concept

IT Robot Lore

Easter in FUC (Bunny Secretary x gn!reader)

Characters

Hot Neighbor Wolf Hybrid, Orc Friend, Naga Friend, Wolf Hybrid Friend, Demon Guard, Bunny Secretary, Minotaur Boss, IT Robot, Dragon Headhunter,

[maybanksangel]

—

rafe and yourself had a very unique relationship. it’s not that you and him were waiting for marriage, it just didn’t happen yet. you thought maybe you were holding rafe back because you were scared. but trust me, rafe had plenty of experience and would definitely tell you if you were holding him back

while sex isn’t something that has to happen right away, rafe understood your boundaries and waited until you felt this most comfortable before starting to ease your way into an intimate relationship. 

of course, you and rafe had times where you had intense makeout sessions and things got touchy. but it never crossed your mind knowing you put your foot down when you guys started dating that you were still a virgin and you’d like to wait to see how things would go first.

things got touchy, like they always did. groping at the waist, hands on abs. whatever, that was normal for the relationship you guys were in.

tonight felt different.

tonight you had a feeling it was time to step up into a new chapter of your life and finally put yourself out there.

after awhile, the total crazy makeout session comes to a stop.

you look up at rafe, staring into his eyes as he looks down at you.

“rafe, i think i’m ready..”

that’s how you ended up with your back to the bed, your pants already discarded with just your small tight tank top on — and your panties of course.

rafe is already struggling to get his belt off from the built up adrenaline he has inside of him in this exact moment.

now, before he pulled his pants and boxers down, you had never known that rafe had this specific thing. you never thought to ask and he never thought to let you know.

rafe’s pants pool at the bottom of his knees, he then pushes down his boxers to expose his angry, red cock.

a sparkly object catches your eye in a glimpse, you give it a double take.

a fucking piercing. he has a piercing on his dick.

how were you gonna take his cock, while being a virgin, and on top of that take it with a piercing.

“whatcha lookin at hm? ya scared already baby?” he chuckles, pulling your chin in between his fingers and forces you to look up at him.

“not scared rafey, just.. i’m scared of your piercing..” you whine, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

his eyebrows raise up, a smirk appearing on his face. “out of everything you could be scared of, you’re scared of my fucking piercing?” you nodded, shamefully.

“let’s give it a try, okay? you won’t even feel it.”

he lines up with your hole, pushing his way in. the stretching feeling stinging you already, as you let out a hiss.

“hey hey hey, just wait a minute. it’ll feel better once i start movin’.” he stills, all the way inside of you before he thrusts out, and back in. creating a rhythm. you grip onto him tightly, already your pussy was begging for him to come back in.

it started to feel better, you moans filled the room and you could hardly even feel the piercing. it wasn’t poking you, nor was it scraping against you. you were scared for nothing.

“see? i told you didn’t i? that’s my good girl, sweetheart.”

[cartoonjessie]

Double Dated - chapter 8, in which Tamatoa and Simea do a lot of the talking while Maui and Moana do suspiciously little... Or start reading from chapter 1 here. (New chapters get posted daily)

It was obnoxious how well Simea and Tamatoa got along. He had told her all about the names he’d picked for the regular crabs in the marina - those that would probably never return to the wild due to the nature of their handicaps - and Simea had told him the story of how she used to sneak crustaceans she found on the beach into her home - terrifying her mom and aggravating her dad in the process. While Moana remembered the stories to be true, she was still rather upset about how well those two liked each other and how easy it seemed for them to talk. Meanwhile she was terrified to ask Maui how he’d liked his steak or even what type of boat they used at the marina to rescue sick animals. “Say, Simea…” Tamatoa began as they were waiting for their desserts. “Do psychologists believe that knowing someone’s favourite animal says something about the person themselves?”

[Read more here on AO3]

[turquoisedata]

I'm sure most people have read them or are at least aware but What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) was my gateway drug into human AUs. "Why are they human? I don't get it? It's very confusing. But also very compelling. I'll see how it goes. Oh but this is good?* It's probably just a one off this they're human business. Oh. She's written another? Maybe I'll give that a go too"

And now it's 18 months later and I'm fucking obsessed but these two fics still hold a very special place in my heart and I sob repeatedly at Shotgun Wedding and laugh my damn head off at Or Be Nice (and vice versa tbh).

*understatement of the year. I didn't get how good until I re-read, in a good way

Anyway comment on fanfic! (Or) Be Nice, obviously, don't demand or criticise or expect a reply, but tell authors when their work means something to you 💜🥹

Hello! I absolutely love your GO fics. Do you still like it when people comment?

I enjoy commenting on fics but enough people in the comments seem to be saying they're commenting even though you probably don't want them on an old fic that it's got me second guessing myself 🙃

Absolutely no expectation of you answering, obviously, I only want you to know how much those guys mean to me 🤩💜

This question made me log into Tumblr after months and months just to tell you, belated commenter, that I AM ONLY STILL ALIVE because kind strangers occasionally leave comments on things I finished years ago You, too, have the power to cast healing on a distant stranger who is weighed down by All The Worldly Things, who wishes more than anything for time to write, who misses spending time with the characters and the friends and the readers The most powerful are chapter-by-chapter commenters who, out of the blue, make my every hour better for multiple days. Who are you. Where did you learn this alchemy. You are incredible. Do not take my inability to respond for indifference, it's just that my arms are full of all the things in Link's backpack in Tears of the Kingdom and I keep dropping the Hyrule herb (let alone the Master Sword) so I can't do comment replies anymore. Yes please, for Satan's sake, cut through the horridness of every update the world is throwing our way with some raving on a years-old fic. I love it. I love you. Thank you.

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”