#and nauseatingly adorable
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lordsofkobol · 3 months ago
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crookedwesper · 2 years ago
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Win and Team finally got permission to be sappily romantic with each other and ran with it. Like they say I love you so much in the finale I’m surprised their friends don’t get sick of them tbh. They’re that type of couple.
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lonelychicago · 4 months ago
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chimney is not happy with the new 118 development, hen is way too smug; and buck and eddie are nauseatingly in love <3 (and also adorably sleepy)
buy me a coffee 💌
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bookwormjust · 2 months ago
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Imagine: Azriel care during dinner with the Inner Circle
The grand dining room of the House of Wind was alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional playful jab between friends. The Inner Circle had gathered for dinner, a regular occurrence that always promised good food, better company, and the kind of banter that only those bound by deep friendship and countless battles could share.
You sat next to Azriel, your mate, his presence a constant, comforting warmth beside you. The table was laden with delicious dishes, from roasted meats to vibrant salads, and the smell of freshly baked bread filled the air. Conversation flowed easily, punctuated by Cassian’s booming laughter and Mor’s exaggerated tales of her latest escapades.
As usual, you were absorbed in the lively discussions, occasionally jumping in with your own remarks or laughing at something Feyre said. What you didn’t notice, however, was the way Azriel moved with quiet precision, always making sure your plate was never empty. Whenever a dish was passed around, he would subtly serve you first, spooning just the right amount of food onto your plate without making a fuss.
Whenever your glass was even close to empty, Azriel would refill it with water, his movements smooth and efficient. His hand would often rest on your back or gently squeeze your knee under the table, as if to reassure you that he was there, that he was paying attention even when you were caught up in the conversation.
Azriel’s care was so effortless, so woven into the fabric of his actions, that it didn’t even register to you how much he was doing to ensure your comfort. It was just Azriel being Azriel—attentive, protective, and deeply in tune with your needs, even when you weren’t aware of them yourself.
At one point, Rhysand leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched Azriel refill your glass for what must have been the fourth or fifth time. “You know, Y/N, I’m starting to think Azriel’s taken it upon himself to be your personal waiter tonight.”
You blinked, looking up in confusion as the rest of the Inner Circle chuckled. “What do you mean?” you asked, glancing over at Azriel, who merely raised an eyebrow, his expression as calm as ever.
Mor grinned, leaning forward with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Haven’t you noticed? He’s been practically waiting on you hand and foot all night.”
Cassian snorted, gesturing with his fork. “He’s been serving you more than anyone else. And don’t get me started on the water refills. I’m pretty sure Az’s spent more time making sure you’re hydrated than eating his own dinner.”
Feyre nodded in agreement, a soft smile on her face. “It’s sweet, really. I mean, I get it—Azriel’s always looking out for everyone. But with you, it’s...extra.”
Your cheeks warmed slightly as you turned to Azriel, who simply shrugged, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t seem to notice, so I just…did what I always do,” he said quietly, his gaze steady and filled with a gentle affection that made your heart flutter.
You felt a rush of warmth, suddenly hyper-aware of all the little things Azriel had been doing throughout the meal. The way he’d effortlessly made sure you had everything you needed, never drawing attention to himself, always so quietly attuned to you. You reached out, placing your hand over his on the table, squeezing it gently.
“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft but filled with meaning. Azriel’s fingers intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing against your skin in that familiar, comforting way.
“Always,” he replied, his voice just for you, low and intimate.
Amren, who had been silently observing with a raised eyebrow, finally spoke up. “It’s nauseatingly adorable, but honestly, if I had someone making sure I was fed and watered like that, I wouldn’t complain.”
The table erupted in laughter, and you couldn’t help but join in, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. You leaned closer to Azriel, resting your head briefly against his shoulder, and he responded by pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his shadows swirling around you like a comforting embrace.
“Guess I need to pay more attention,” you joked, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “I might’ve been missing out on the royal treatment.”
Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You don’t have to notice. I’ll always take care of you, whether you see it or not.”
And as the night went on, filled with more laughter and playful teasing, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. Azriel’s quiet acts of care were just one of the many ways he showed his affection, and it made you realize, all over again, just how lucky you were to have him by your side.
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rassilon-imprimatur · 2 years ago
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I haven’t sat down with the new Interview With The Vampire yet, but I spoiled myself for how they adapt Armand, and fuck yeah. FUCK yeah, nauseating abuse coding, here for it. 
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wherenymphsroam · 1 year ago
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leon actually has like …. breeder balls. it’s actually so bad. they’re probably so warm n big and hang so pretty. just makes you wanna nuzzle your face into him, mouth at him idly.
and I say that in like … a non sexual context.
(cw: implied ddlg, reader with an oral fixation)
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you just love him so much, you trust him so much. sometimes even just the sound of his voice has you melting into a puddle against him. he’s noticed it, it’s hard not to. but he’s not about to point out your… mouthy habits.
in all honesty, he finds it adorable. how needy you get for him, in the most mundane of situations. go ahead, tug at his jeans when you curl up on the couch to watch a movie. get on your knees under his desk on the rare occasion he uses his home office. he’ll acknowledge you with a stroke of his fingers through your hair and a hum of contentment when your mouth finds his bulge through his boxers. he’ll even help you tug his jeans down, maybe just enough to get at the warmth of his crotch, about mid thigh.
really, he should get hard every time you surprise him with a tap of his thigh or a tug at his belt. but at his age, he didn’t feel the need to be hard, to find your greed overtly sexual.
sure, he’ll press your thighs to your chest and fuck you into the mattress later that night, but this … it’s different. the effect he has on you — the fog that clouds your brain when you lap at his soft cock, the weight of your lashes fluttering, the slur to your speech when he talks to you like that — it’s not something sexual, more often than not. you’re just … safe. he make you feel safe, and he loves that.
however.
on the off chance you do end up getting a lil drunk on him, drool coating your chin, lashes fluttering so sweetly… maybe his dick will twitch in interest. you’re so pretty, almost nauseatingly so. it really does make his head spin sometimes, thinking about how the hell he ended up with such a pretty baby attached to his hip. but to see you so eager, so greedy for him and him alone …. so much so that you’re pushing his fingers past your lips at a moments notice, whining for him to slide his sweats down …
sometimes, he thinks you just might be the death of him.
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codenamesazanka · 1 month ago
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never liked the childhood imagery for bnha. It's cute, nauseatingly so, it's 100% calculated to evoke easy feelings of adoration and protection and sympathy for a character. Which is fine, I'm not against it as a trope, I think it's very cute too!
But that childhood imagery was always Not Real. It takes place in the Past. It was Things That Could've Been. And here, as the official account puts it, Things From Another Lifetime.
But why not this lifetime? Why can't the hand holding and connection and bright colors and healing be in the lifetime the characters are in now? Yeah, it probably can't ever reach this level of Brightness, but it doesn't mean it's not worth it?
But Childhood Imagery + The Conclusion We Got means it was just too late. The time to save Toga was when she was 3 years old. Being 17 means it's all over. Can you save Villains? Yes, but only when they're age 5 or less. So before they became Villains. Before they even become 'misbehaving' children, actually.
So can you save Villains? No.
The satisfaction from Childhood Imagery isn't from solving the problem, it's from a 'what if'.
And that's fine! I love AUs. But I'm not reading fanfic here, i'm reading the canon manga and the story asked 'can the Heroes save the Villains' and the answer is a no. But Maybe In Another Lifetime.
Which is also fine, if we are to take this to mean the Heroes lost and failed. But that is a downer conclusion to give to your heroic protags. idk. Maybe hence the conclusion of 'well, next time then, so just keep reaching out.' But this was the first and only time in the story Ochako tried to reach out to a Villain like Toga so we're starting off not too good, with a total record of 0. Will next time work? Or will it have to happen In Another Lifetime?
(Plus also we don't see that Heroes reach out and save the next crying taboo-quirk 3-year-old. That radio blurb of 'expanding quirk counseling' doesn't count. What does that even mean, 'expanding'? Because more importantly, that wasn't what Toga needed. She needed her parents to not be so emotionally and verbally abusive towards her. She needed a mom and dad that didn't tell her 'we gave birth to something inhuman'. Because her parents couldn't get her into quirk counseling fast enough. They depended on the counselor to 'iron' out her deviancies. What does Expanding quirk counseling solve here? Expand therapy techniques so that the parents can have a quiet child that wouldn't embarrass them so much they have to yell at them that they're subhuman? Is expanding quirk counseling going to do anything about the parents who want those expanded two-hour long sessions, expanded to every day, to 'fix' their child because else they'll have to abuse the abnormalities out themselves?)
(Else they have to lock their kid in a basement? and only when the next disaster comes, the kid can finally escape and get rescued by a guilt-ridden civilian? Instead of a Hero who hasn't done their job of 'saving' at all in this kid's years of suffering????)
Childhood Imagery is so cheap to use. smh horikoshi
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treeba-rk · 23 days ago
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wild life smp with the newlyweds tiny ren and martyn lying in their bed adoring staring at each other because they’re nauseatingly in love
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percheduphere · 11 months ago
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I'm kinda curious, especially since a lot of people have very different views on this: How do you think Loki and Mobius would be in an actual, official, romantic relationship? I kinda think they would keep doing what they're doing but I don't really know what level of romantic stuff they would do. They're already pretty physically affectionate, but would they do that in public since both of 'em are pretty secretive about their normal emotion? They compliment each other but would they use things like honey and dear in a serious way? Etc. So...How do you think this time couple would be like?
I adore this ask because all my headcanons about Loki and Mobius being in an established relationship are SOFT. The best part is, canon supports this.
While I do agree that Loki and Mobius's dynamic will continue the way it has been, I also think a certain level of emotional intensity will be brought into the mix, increasing their general chemistry in front of others ten-fold. The banter, the idea spit-balling, the lack of personal space, the smiles, laughs, and long gazes ... imagine all of that dialed up. Loki loves as hard as he hates and is a hedonistic show off. Mobius has loved Loki since Day 1 and repressed his feelings for long enough. Are they really going to be reserved around each other once they're securely in a relationship?
No! They will be the most sickeningly lovey-dovey couple in the MCU.
WORDS OF AFFIRMATION
S1 had Mobius advocating for and complimenting Loki in private and in front of others. S2 had Loki reciprocating. It is not hard to imagine them becoming fiercely protective of one another on and off the field. Cross one, the other is crossed. They are a two-package deal, and both are vicious when it comes to wielding words on behalf of the other's dignity.
As for terms of endearment, I can imagine Loki calling Mobius "Darling" on spare, particularly emotional occasions. Mobius, on the other hand, still has Don in him. "Sweetheart" and "Honey" are very in-character pet names he would use. Both reserve usage of these names in private as Loki hates blushing in front of others, though Mobius has a tendency to slip when he's multitasking at work.
PHYSICAL TOUCH
The hug in S1E5 seems to have opened the door for physical affection come S2E1. Loki and Mobius (especially Mobius) touch one another with affection, attentiveness, and protectiveness on instinct. Despite not being romantically involved in S2, they move around one another the way two lovers in a small kitchen might. Once in a relationship, they will continue to do this but certain gestures will hold more meaning, in particular: holding hands.
One of Mobius's first gestures of kindness, which Loki initial rejected, was a handshake in S1E1.
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The second time Mobius offers his hand, Loki takes it and uses Mobius's compassion as an opportunity to steal the time twister from his pocket.
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Mobius offers another handshake in S1E5, which Loki declines in favor of a heartfelt embrace that he extends to Mobius and Mobius happily accepts.
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Physically (and symbolically), Loki and Mobius's relationship was founded on Mobius extending a hand and Loki refusing it, betraying it, and finally taking it. I therefore see them holding hands regularly, every day, because holding onto one another is grounding, comforting, and reminds them of these earlier moments in their relationship that they've overcome together.
As these two are not shy about tight embraces in public, I doubt either would feel shy about chaste kisses either. They are so in-sync and adoring of another that it goes without saying that when they have sex, they make love passionately. They communicate with touching just as much as words, so heteronormative "bottom and top" designations are thrown out the window and into the dumpster (where they belong). How they have sex conveys how they feel about one another in that specific moment.
PDA
Among others, I can see them being nauseatingly sweet. We already know what bystanders look like when they tease and bicker with one another:
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And make no mistake that Loki would up the dramatics with PDA just to gross Thor out. Thor making a "barfing gesture" cracks Loki up every time, and Mobius, resigned, goes along with it because who doesn't want to get peppered with kisses?
QUALITY TIME
I haven't seen anyone point this out yet, but it's hilarious to me that S2E3 starts in broad daylight and cuts to evening by the time Loki and Mobius stroll out with cracker jacks in their hands.
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Loki looks a little annoyed but he is going along with it for Mobius's sake. Sightseeing at the World's Fair makes Mobius happy, and whatever makes Mobius happy, Loki will indulge even if he's not interested. Like that key lime pie he didn't eat.
If this is their relationship when it's platonic, then be ready for Mobius to take date night very seriously.
Dinner and a night at the opera? Naturally.
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Eating pastries and drinking coffee while people-watching in Paris? Absolutely.
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Biking side-by-side along the Dutch Coastal Route in the Netherlands? Of course!
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Mobius will take care of all the planning and Loki will enjoy sharing new experiences together. On (frequent) occasion, Mobius will surprise Loki by choosing an activity he knows Loki will enjoy, such as visiting an ancient library or perusing fine clothes at a bazaar.
Point being, these two have always enjoyed each other's company and have fun together. In a relationship, they will actively take time out of their schedule to bond more purposefully!
ACTS OF SERVICE
Both Loki and Mobius are strong when it comes to communicating love through acts of service. Where Mobius is a little higher on words of affirmation, I believe Loki is slightly higher here. Loki pays attention to Mobius's interests, habits, and creature comforts. He will commit to memory the exact way Mobius prefers his steaks, sandwiches, salads, and coffee prepared.
Mobius, for his part, will take care of things Loki doesn't like doing. Taking out the garbage? Done. Washing the car and filling it with gas? Did it while you were asleep. Filling out paperwork? Say no more.
Sadly, I don't think either of them have a talent for cooking. Loki grew up with palace servants. Mobius relied on the TVA cafeteria. They will attempt to conquer the kitchen together, but the end result is always either a fire or a flood. It's okay. Loki can name Mobius's top 5 take-out places off the top of his head.
GIFTS
Neither Loki nor Mobius strike me as big on gifts, but when they feel the sentiment, they give one another meaningful things that only they understand.
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I think Mobius may be slightly more inclined for gift-giving. He knows what material objects mean most to Loki and why. Loki, meanwhile, might feel challenged in this area. Not for a lack of enthusiasm, mind, but because Mobius doesn't have many material desires beyond a jet ski. Loki would like to think he's more creative than getting Mobius a new one once a year.
In short, Loki and Mobius already engage in the 5 love languages. Being together will only strengthen what they do for one another, much to their friends' longsuffering annoyance.
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delirious-donna · 9 months ago
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For You [Hanma Shuji]
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an: Pure self-indulgence as I've been sick the past few days and I'll use any excuse to continue my soft Shuji agenda...
pairing: Hanma Shuji x female reader
warnings: fluff, self-ship coded, reader has longish hair with a similar texture to Shuji’s, fluff, bit of a sick fic I guess, domesticity, soft shuji, suggestive if you squint, did I mention the fluff?
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He didn’t know what to do. That much was evident from the white noise tumbling inside his head and the empty stare that roamed your apartment. Everything was as it should be, and at the same time, nothing was right.
Shuji hadn’t heard a peep from you in almost two days, and that was unheard of before now. He appreciated that you were not overtly clingy. You didn’t need to know his exact whereabouts at any given moment of the day, but you checked in now and then, and for the first time in his life, he looked forward to those moments. So when you went radio silent except for one cursory message in reply to his attempt at humour that you were ghosting him, worry settled heavily.
The smell was apparent the second he let himself in with the spare key you had gifted him months ago. Until now, he hadn’t had reason to use it, but there was no way he would allow another day to pass without knowing what was going on. Sickness–sweet and sour–lingered in the nose, an unmistakable smell.
What he found huddled in a nest of twisted blankets tugged at a heart he had not long grown to realise existed. A mass of tangled hair obscured most of your sleeping face, though he doesn’t miss the scrunched expression etched across your features. Your skin that peeks from beneath your adorable kitty pyjamas was covered in a sheen of sweat, and he could feel the heat radiating from your body when he closed the distance in two quick strides.
You’re sick. 
The rasp of your breathing indicated something was sitting on your chest, likely a bad cold or some infection, and he doesn’t know what to do with this newfound information. Turning, he raised his glasses atop his head to pass a weary palm down his face.
Cuts, scrapes and bruises are things he can deal with. He is well accustomed to peroxide on rags to clean wounds and disinfect any dirt that might linger inside split knuckles. A raw steak slapped over a swollen eye might be considered a bit of a health hazard these days, but he still swore that nothing reduced the swelling faster. Hell, Shuji was even a dab hand with a needle and thread. He had lost count with how many of his exclusively short list of friends he had patched up to avoid the inevitable hospital questions over the years. He had even sewn himself up from time to time.
Hell, he needed to act. Standing here doing nothing was beginning to sizzle his blood.
You woke from being jostled, the haze of your fever dream preventing the usual fight or flight instinct from kicking in. Craning your neck, you blinked and scrubbed at your eyes. There was no way you were looking up at your boyfriend. No way that he had you cradled in his arms in the most delicate hold you had ever experienced.
“Shuji?” 
“Yeah, princess, it’s me. Need you to sit here f’me, alright?” He rasped, voice affected by some emotion you couldn’t quite place.
Cool porcelain met your backside, your body guided upright until you could manage your equilibrium. Hanma Shuji was here, in your apartment, in your bathroom. Rummaging through your medicine cabinet and looking for god knows what.
A bath. He could at least run you a warm bath and rid you of the smell of sweat and sickness from your pretty skin. Methodically, he worked to fill the tub and added a few splashes of some scented shit that smelled familiar from your cabinet. Shuji dutifully peeled the pyjamas and underwear from your body and threw them in the hamper with a mind to run a load for you if he remembered.
Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe your twisted fever-induced dreams had shifted away from the nauseatingly vibrant images you had experienced only a few hours ago to this muted peaceful scene. It was a nice thought, but no, this was reality and not one you ever thought you’d experience. 
A hand from behind your head came into view, a hand you knew immediately, not just by the stark black kanji inked against golden skin but the length of his slender fingers and the slight yellowish stain from the cigarettes he smoked. He handed you a soapy washcloth, which you gratefully accepted, wiping it across your body and sluffing off the grim that had caked you over the course of the last few days.
It was heaven, pure and simple, and when you thought it couldn’t get any better, Shuji surprised you once more. He gently tilted your head back, your eyes met his, and you smiled in adoration at the concentration evident on his face seconds before he began wetting your hair with the jug you kept on the edge of the bath.
“You don’t have to… Shu, I can take care of my hair once I’m better.”
Shuji clicked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment, but he held back from scolding you further for not trusting him with this small task. He washed his own damn hair, so washing yours wasn’t going to be some impossible task. His fingers worked in the suds of your shampoo into a thick lather, digging deep against your scalp and massaging firmly enough to elicit moans of bliss. 
Normally such noises would make him hard, but right now it only raised a genuine smile. This was possibly one of the most intimate things he had ever done for you. Never mind all those times he had rearranged your insides or made slow, passionate love to you. No, this was on a whole other level, and he liked it–more than he ever believed he would.
You must have dozed off whilst he shampooed and conditioned your hair because the next thing you were aware of was being lifted from the bath and wrapped in a thick fluffy towel that draped past your toes. Shuji returned you to your bedroom but paused in where to deposit you, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the mess of sheets that most definitely needed to be washed and changed. Eventually, he planted your feet on the plush rug by the bottom of your bed, one which his knees were intimately familiar with and helped towel dry your body from head to foot.
“Put these on, baby. Imma strip your bed, do you have another set?” He asked with a kiss to your temple, handing you a clean set of yellow pyjamas with little ducks covering them from your dresser drawer. 
Nodding sleepily, you pointed to the wicker storage box in the far corner before stepping into the pj pants and clumsily covering yourself with the top that bagged just enough that you could truthfully forgo the pants if you wanted.
You watched in amusement as the man known far and wide as both a talented photographer and sometimes enforcer for certain well-connected friends changed your bedding. His tall frame made it easy for him to manipulate the fitted sheet into place and wrangle a clean duvet cover on your kingsize duvet. This shitty task would have taken you nearly half an hour by yourself, but he managed in only ten.
“Need to dry my hair,” you yawned, leaning your face on his bicep and gratefully folding into his body when his arm snaked around your waist. He looked lost again, and you took pity on him. This kind of care was not his forte, but he didn’t know that all of this meant more to you than you could verbalise in your current state.
“I’ll wait for you in the living room. Take your time, alright?” With a final kiss to your forehead, he rounded the door of your bedroom and was gone from sight.
Shuji tried to sit still whilst the sound of your hairdryer filled his ears, but he was never one to sit idly by. He thought back on the times he had been sick as a kid with no one to really care for him and the things he would have wished for. In truth, a hot bath, clean clothes and a full stomach were all he ever wanted.
He was no cook, but he got by. A can of chicken soup caught his attention as he scanned your cupboards and set about warming it up on the stovetop. Your bread was still fresh, and he found butter in the fridge. He could do this. He could be the caring boyfriend when he wanted and though he had never felt inclined before, you were different.
You didn’t blow up his phone looking for sympathy or attention–no–you had tried to tough it out much like he had growing up, and it further sparked the flicker of kindred spirit that he felt about you. He wanted to protect you. There was no sense of obligation, and that made the difference. You were the first person he had loved outside of himself, and you reciprocated unconditionally. 
You took the man he was, the boy he had been and loved every part of him, flaws and all. Shuji could do the same for you, and he vowed that the next time one of you fell sick, you’d be living together and there would be no need to guess that something was wrong.
So engrossed in sentimental thoughts that were still rather foreign to him, Shuji didn’t notice the hairdryer cut off nor the sound of your bare feet padding in search of him. It wasn’t until two small arms wound around his waist that he noticed or acknowledged your presence at all.
“What did I do to deserve you, Hanma Shuji?” You sobbed wetly into the shirt covering his back. Your emotions were overwhelming you, head still stuffy from whatever sickness had beat your ass the past few days, coupled with the domesticity of watching him cook for you. Tears streaked towards your cheeks, and you smushed your face deeper into him in an attempt to halt the flow.
He chuckled whilst continuing to stir the soup. “I know a lot of people that would say you must have been real bad in a past life to have ended up with me as a boyfriend.”
You sniffled and mustered every ounce of strength–barely anything–to smack him for that comment. “Shut up, you ass. Don’t spoil it.”
Shuji turned slowly. The amused expression softening in the face of your soppy, pathetic face that he couldn’t possibly adore any more, and he raised a hand to thumb away your tears. Enfolding you fully into his arms, he cooed softly against your freshly dried hair and smiled at the scent that was uniquely you had returned to your skin.
“I want you to know that I would do anything for you. Not only would I rip apart this entire fucking world if someone dared hurt you.” He enthused before his tone softened with a quiet exhale as if he were about to whisper some unspoken secret. “But I’ll also bathe you when you need the help, and I’ll feed you when you’re hungry. For you, there is nothing too much.”
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monstersandmaw · 1 year ago
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Male gnoll x gn reader (nsfw)
Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 
As promised, the modern gnoll story is here!
Content: insecure, squishy, gender and body neutral reader; praise kink from gnoll boy if you squint; penetrative sex, knotting.
There's also very fleeting mention of a young, terminally ill patient passing off-screen. If you want to skip that entirely, skip from: "Halfway through the third time you encountered him there though, he got a call on his phone and his whole demeanour changed." to the paragraph beginning: "Three days later, and you’d been to the gym every day in the hopes of catching him, you hadn’t seen him."
Wordcount: 6934
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You stared at the weights rack and felt a bead of sweat roll down your spine that had nothing to do with your previous sets.
This would be the heaviest you’d ever attempted to chest press, and while it might not be much by some people’s standards — that half-orc last week had really put you off your stride by snorting at you, but we can’t all be built like brick fucking walls, can we? — it was more than you’d tried so far. But you were ready. You just… needed someone to spot for you. Just in case. Safety first, and all that.
But the only people in the weights section were the kind of people who, through no real fault of their own, you tended to find nauseatingly intimidating. Like that troll who could probably bench press one of you in each hand. Or that werewolf who was fully shifted and currently on her hundredth(?) chin-up on the bars. Or that gnoll. He’d been doing slow, measured bicep curls for the past five minutes and you’d been trying not to stare at him. Most male gnolls were a bit smaller than their female counterparts, and tended to be less aggressive and competitive in the gym, but this guy was huge.
You must have looked a little too long though, because his dark, rounded ear twitched and he turned his head to look at you. Instead of glaring at you, he offered you a wide, friendly grin that showed off his massive, chunky teeth and made you a bit weak at the knees. Always good to go weak at the joints when you were about to attempt a personal best in the weights section at the gym…
Fuck.
“You ok?” he asked, setting down a dumbbell that was heavy enough to double as a battleship anchor, and you swallowed.
Now or never.
“I…” you croaked and cleared your throat, looking down at the bench and back up at him.
“You want someone to spot for you?” he asked, stepping a little closer. His paws were massive and while he had clothes on — black gym shorts and a big, baggy, white tank top — he wore no shoes. His claws flexed as his dark, smoky brown pads spread to take his weight, and you swallowed again. He had really adorable freckle-like spots up his shaggy legs too.
“If you wouldn’t mind?” you finally managed to squeak.
At that, he beamed at you and gave a gnollish giggle that seemed genuinely pleased. “Happy to.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled, and took a breath for courage. No going back now.
You lay down on the bench and he came to stand behind the rack. His big, clawed hands hooked under the bar but he didn't take any of its weight as you adjusted your grip and got settled, and prepared to lift it free. He loomed over you, his face serious with concentration. It was a comfort to know he was focused on the task, not gawping around at the other gym-goers. The future integrity of your chest and ribs depended on his concentration if your arms failed you, after all. You had no doubts about his strength though. He really was massive.
Getting your breathing under control, you shoved carefully upwards, and he grinned as you took its weight and began your reps. After five, you felt your arms start to burn, but you pushed on towards ten.
At nine, your muscles shuddered in complaint.
“You’ve got this,” he said in a low, quiet rumble, and it spurred you on to do the last one. You hooked it back in place and met his dark brown eyes. “Nailed it,” he grinned, all teeth and joy. “I reckon you can go up another five kilograms…”
“I’m not sure,” you replied, sitting up carefully and swinging your feet off to one side. The idea of making it heavier seemed overwhelming.
“I’ll spot you again, don’t worry,” he said, reaching for a couple of the smallest weight plates from the rack and slotting them easily onto the end of your bar. “But you definitely had some in the tank. Take a minute, have a drink, and go again.”
His quiet, easy conviction was enviable, but it sparked something in you that had been dormant for a long time. Or maybe it had been smothered into dormancy. Either way, it felt a lot like the echo of self-confidence, though the feeling was unfamiliar these days.
When you set down your water bottle and paused to let your muscles relax after the first set of reps, your eye was caught by a wiry looking goblin doing weighted squats on the far side of the room. She had iron grey hair and looked to be in her sixties or seventies, and you felt the heat of shame flood your cheeks when you realised she was lifting more than you could, at half your height and a fraction of your body-weight.
Seeing where you were looking, the gnoll gave a little snicker and said, “Oh boy, don’t compare yourself to Rose, friend. I’ve seen her outlast full-grown orcs in friendly pull-up competitions, and she can plank for an hour without breaking a sweat. Goblins are made of steel, I swear. Focus on your own journey.”
You laughed, feeling stupidly grateful to him for his kind reassurance.
“Come on. Give it a go?” he said, and you nodded and lay back. “I’ll be here. I won’t let you hurt yourself,” he added.
It was a struggle, but you made it to five before you needed a pause, and he hooked his rough-padded fingers under the bar and took the weight for a second.
“Breathe, and then just five more.”
Somehow when he said it like that, it didn’t seem so bad.
Things got tricky at eight, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through, and when you hit ten and he took it from you, your arms felt like wet noodles, but you’d done it.
“Alright!” he exclaimed as you sat up and cast him a sidelong look. He offered his paw for a high-five, and, embarrassed by his enthusiasm for you, you answered it. The pads of his paws were rough and warm, and his entire hand almost engulfed yours. When you lowered your gaze again, you could just see his little tail wagging back and forth and that finally brought a huge smile to your face. How long had it been since someone was genuinely excited for your achievements?
“Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice cracking a bit. “That was really kind of you. I’m sorry I interrupted your workout.”
“Not at all,” he smiled. “Happy to help, and you smashed it! I’ll leave you to get on, but shout if you need me to spot for you again.”
“Thanks,” you said, but your shyness returned, and you didn’t trouble him again that session.
Three days later, you were back in the gym with your muscles mostly recovered. On the ground floor of the building, there was a huge swimming pool and as you passed the viewing window you could see a couple of humans and a few orcs and perhaps an elf doing serious, focused laps in the swimming lanes, barely making a splash as they powered through the water. This whole ‘fitness drive’ thing was still pretty new to you, and just walking up the stairs into the upper level of the gym where the machines and weights were sparked the same nauseous anxiety in the pit of your stomach that you always experienced at the thought of going to a public gym. You didn’t look like someone who belonged here, with soft edges and extra weight in places it wasn’t conventionally attractive for humans to carry it, and while you weren’t really here to please other people, you were trying to take better care of yourself lately and that, unfortunately, involved exercise.
Your eyes scanned the space and you’d have been lying if you weren’t searching for a flash of honey-coloured fur. There was a large group of orcs messing around in the weights section, so you bailed and headed blindly for the nearest cardio machine, heart pounding in a way that made you want to throw up.
“Guess I’m running today,” you muttered under your breath as you stepped automatically up onto the treadmill. Panic had made you go to this one, and you thought you’d probably look even more stupid if you changed your mind now.
After an overly-long warm-up walk, you cranked it to something manageable and felt your body complain already. You made it to about one kilometre before you had to stop. Deciding to pretend you’d always intended to use it merely as a way to loosen up, you hit the ‘stop’ button and ignored its friendly advice to do a cool down, grabbing your water bottle from the holder and turning around to see if there was enough room in the weights area for you to slink in and do a few reps.
And there, looking at you across the room, was the gnoll from before.
Your heart flip-flopped in your chest, first with delight and then with horror as you realised he must have seen you lumbering away on the treadmill. Fuck.
But when he met your eye, he grinned, showing all his teeth, and he waved. You smiled back, and wove your way through the bristling array of cardio machines to join him.
“Hey,” he said, scratching behind one large ear with his right paw. “I wasn’t sure if you were a regular… I kind of thought I might never see you again.”
“No, I’m usually wheezing away in a corner at around this time every few days,” you snorted.
He didn’t laugh at your self-deprecating humour though, and instead turned his muzzle towards the weights. “You need someone to spot for you again?”
You bit your lip. “Yeah, I guess. You can be my cheerleader again too if you like,” you added with a spur-of-the-moment burst of bravery.
“Gladly,” he giggled, tail wagging back and forth. “You wanna do a few warm up rounds first? I just got here, so I’m kind of cold anyway.”
As before, when you were ready, he came over and stood at the head of the bench, hands ready to catch the bar. It was harder to concentrate this time round, with him looming over you. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, though he had that distinctive hunch that gnolls’ unique biology lent to their kind where werewolves were more upright.
When he took the bar from you at the end of your first set of reps, his fingers brushed yours and you nearly gasped at how velvet-soft his fur was. “Thank you,” you said, and as you sat up to take your short break, you introduced yourself by name.
“I’m Cade,” he replied, and stuck out his hand for you to shake.
Conscious that your palms were probably super sweaty, you tried not to flush hot and make it even worse, and you slid your hand into his. Again, the size of him was striking, and you felt something in your core tighten and start to tingle at the sight of it, let alone the feel of his paw flexing around your hand. His claws were dark and neatly rounded and you wondered what he did for a living. Most gnolls — not that you knew any personally — seemed to have active, outdoorsy jobs, but there was something about him that made you curious.
“Ready for round two?” he asked, and you got back to it with a shy smile. “Ah, come on. It’s not that bad, is it? You might even learn to love it soon.”
“It’s better with company,” you admitted as you took the weight of the bar and looked up just in time to watch his face go from serious to delighted at the compliment. “Not sure I’ll ever come to love it though. Not the way you seem to.”
He grinned and giggled gnollishly — the sound high and bright and a little silly coming from someone so intimidatingly built — and you couldn’t help the way your heart felt a little lighter and your body a little more energised. “I did consider changing careers to become a personal trainer for a while,” he said while you started to count your second set.
“Oh?” You didn’t have the breath to ask anything more articulate, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Mm. I just enjoy helping people out, I guess.”
“What do you do now for work?” you asked in a bit of a garbled rush between reps six and seven.
“I’m a paediatric nurse,” he said, and you nearly dropped the bar on your chest. He reached down and snatched it before it had even dropped an inch, and he shot you a look. “Don’t worry, I’m used to that reaction,” he said with a wink. “I was expecting it.”
“Sorry,” you said. Jeez, what a charmer. “I just… I wouldn’t have thought… you know… I’m sorry.”
“Eh, it’s fine,” he said. “Come on, get to ten and I’ll tell you the rest.”
You pushed through the last three and he took the bar and rested it on its hooks, allowing you to sit up with thrumming muscles in your shoulders and arms. You stretched out and twisted your neck to look up at him from your seat on the bench.
“We have a bad reputation still,” he sighed, “But actually, traditionally, male gnolls are the caretakers in our clans. Historically, the females did all the fighting and protecting, and we raised the cubs and taught them the basics before they went on to train with the females.” He shot you a cheeky look and added, “Statistically, male gnolls are the least likely of almost all species to be aggressive, so despite appearances, we make perfect caretakers. The kids at the hospital love me, once they get past the teeth and the size.”
“I can see why,” you said faintly.
Cade pulled a wide smile and eyed the bar. “Go for three sets this time?”
You did, and when you were done, you thanked him, and then headed to grab a kettle bell to do some other exercises. If both of you kept sneaking glances at each other for the rest of your session, well, at least it wasn’t just you.
Halfway through the third time you encountered him there though, he got a call on his phone and his whole demeanour changed. You’d been doing some lower-weight dead lifts, and as you set the bar down on the mat you watched all the joy bleed out of him; his tail bristled high and stiff, his ears swivelled back almost flat against his head, and his big brown eyes went wide with distress.
“Shit, now?” he hissed, turning away from you. “Fuck. Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can. No, don’t worry about it. Thanks for telling me. Ok, I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up, took a deep breath, and then slowly looked over his shoulder at you. “I… I have to go. I’m sorry. Don’t try any more without someone to spot for you, ok?”
You nodded. “You alright?”
He bit his lip and shook his head. “No, not really. One of my patients is… Uh… Yeah. Not long left, apparently.”
“Oh shit, Cade,” you said, crossing to him. You laid your hand on his fluffy forearm and squeezed the solid muscle beneath your fingers. He seemed to relax just a fraction at that. “You need someone to give you a lift to the hospital? My car’s outside.”
Again, he bit his lip and then nodded. “You wouldn’t mind? I was gonna get the bus.”
You shook your head. “Of course not. Let’s go.”
He was mostly silent for the journey, his knee bouncing as he sat crammed into in the front of your car, but when you approached the main entrance to the hospital, he said, “You can just use the drop-off at the front. Thank you again. I’ll… I’ll see you around, ok?”
You nodded and reached for his arm again. “Take care of yourself.”
He smiled, gave a low rumbling noise that you’d never heard him make before, and then climbed out and strode into the hospital without a backward glance. You looked down at the seat and found a fair few golden hairs stuck to the fabric, and didn’t have the heart to brush them away.
Three days later, and you’d been to the gym every day in the hopes of catching him, you hadn’t seen him. Your mood was decidedly flat as you stepped out into the fresh night air and tried to plaster on a smile when your best friend uncoiled his muscular, python’s tail from the back of the taxi that was waiting at the curb and flung his arms around you. His dark brown skin had a pearlescent shimmer to it and his long, thick brown hair was plaited into a thick braid that hung down his spine. He wore a glittery, black shirt studded with a rainbow of rhinestones that matched the iridescent gleam that seemed to hover over his snake’s tail too, and he had the most exquisitely neat makeup on that you’d ever seen.
“Gods, Mal, you look incredible,” you wheezed as he hugged you.
“You look good too, sweetheart,” he grinned back. “Any sign of your delicious little puppy at the gym today? No, of course not. If there had been, you wouldn’t looked like a kicked puppy yourself. Come on. It’s my birthday. You’re not allowed to mope,” he said, and he practically bundled you into the back of the taxi before going round to the other side and piling in beside you.
He gave the driver the name of the club, and the car set off.
“There’ll be so many beautiful people there tonight, you’ll forget all about this gnoll of yours, I swear,” he practically purred in your ear, and you tried to smile.
“Happy birthday, by the way,” you said, and you drew an envelope from your clutch and handed it to him.
He frowned. “What’s this? We don’t do cards or presents anymore, sweetie,” he scowled, but he did look secretly pleased.
“Couldn’t resist this one,” you shrugged.
The card was nothing very special, just a lame joke about not throwing a hissy fit on your birthday, but it predictably made Mal groan and roll his eyes. “Really, darling? Didn’t we get over the reptile jokes in kindergarten?”
You did manage to muster a heartfelt smirk at that, and waved your hand. “I couldn’t resist,” you said again.
“You’re awful. I love you so much,” he laughed, and tugged you into a sideways hug in his arms. “You’re the only person I tolerate this kind of shit from, you know that?”
“Yeah,” you smiled.
For a long moment, Mal held you and then he let you go and sighed softly. “I want you to be happy, you know?” he said. “You’ve been, like… ‘background miserable’ for ages.”
“I’ll try,” you said. It had been easier until Cade had vanished.
The club was packed already, but Mal dragged you to the front of the line and the two of you were admitted like celebrities and shown to the VIP area of the club. Perks of being with the brother of the owner, you supposed. Yves came over to greet you and his brother and to wish Mal a happy birthday. His present, it turned out, was unlimited drinks for the two of you all night.
For an hour, you and Mal chatted and drank leisurely, and watched the people out on the dance floor that was slightly below your booth, but just as Mal slithered with enviable elegance off the bench and started to make his way towards the dance floor, dragging you along with him, you caught sight of the familiar shape of a gnoll’s ears and froze so abruptly that your hands were torn from Mal’s grip.
“What, Sweets?”
You frowned, trying to make out the figure that was across the space, apparently also being dragged by his friends onto the floor. It was him. It was Cade. You had to laugh, and just as you did, he looked up.
His jaw dropped and he fell utterly still as well, then he laughed and shook his head.
“No way,” Mal breathed, now leaning in to hiss in your ear. “That’s him?”
“Yeah,” you said, and as Cade joined you, Mal — the cheeky shit that he was — gave you a solid shove between your shoulder blades.
You stumbled forwards and Cade shot his hands out to catch you before you planted face-first onto the dance floor. You whipped around the moment he had steadied you, and shot Mal the most venomous glare you could, and then turned back to Cade. “Thanks,” you yelled above the music. “My meddling best friend isn’t exactly known for his subtlety.”
“It’s ok,” Cade chuckled. “It’s good to see you. Sorry I haven’t made it to the gym lately. You find someone to spot for you?”
You shook your head and realised you were still holding his forearms. He hadn’t let go either, so neither did you. “How are you doing? I was worried about you when I didn’t see you after… you know…”
He bowed his head in understanding. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d worry about me, if I’m honest. I’m good. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, even if it was still really sad. It’s part of the job sometimes though. It’s… It’s not my first. But I’m not here to mope.”
“Why are you here then?” you asked, squeezing his forearm gently as someone knocked into you from the side. “You look about as comfortable as I am in places like this…”
His ears were pricked as far forward as they could go, straining like satellite dishes to catch your words above the thundering music, and the urge to make an inhuman squeak rose up your throat like a physical presence. For someone so huge and muscular, he had no right to look so heartbreakingly cute.
“My friends’ house purchase went through so they decided to celebrate and drag me out with them. You?”
“Mal's birthday. His brother owns the club, so we’ve had free drinks for the night.”
“Nice,” Cade laughed. “You want to dance?”
You did, but it wasn’t something you were any good at. Then again, looking around you, there weren’t many you’d have said were actually dancing. Shyly, you managed a nod, and he grinned at you again, and held out both paws. You slid your hands into them and he exhaled, his chest falling noticeably.
“What?”
“You’re so small,” he said. “I… I’m so afraid I’m going to crush you all the time.”
“You won’t,” you smiled, and stepped even closer to him. Close enough to smell the soft musk that rose from his fur. Close enough to see the lights reflected in his coffee-dark eyes and watch the way the pale whiskers on his dark muzzle splayed wide with his anticipation. In the lights you noticed that the white trim of fur along the outer edge of his ears looked like a fine line of silver. “You’re really beautiful, Cade,” you whispered, certain that the music would drown your words, but he pulled his dark lips back in a broad grin and dipped his head shyly.
He turned you in his arms so that your back was to his chest and he stepped a little closer, moving his hands to your waist. You tried to fight the self-consciousness that roared to life like a wildfire in your mind, and when he felt you tense, he leaned down and murmured in your ear, “Is this alright?”
You nodded and leaned back into him, looking up at his pale throat and chest. It was a surprisingly familiar view by now after your sessions in the gym. He was wearing loose jeans that ended at the knee, the way many non-humans did, and he had a black t-shirt on that fitted his muscular frame beautifully. His red-gold mane melted into the dark fur of his ears and the creamy underside of his chin and neck, and you wanted to melt against him and have him hold you forever.
“Yes,” you exhaled. “It’s just been a while, that’s all.”
“We can go however slow you like, but you should know I like you,” he said in a low, inviting rumble. He pressed his cold nose carefully against your cheek and then nuzzled you with his jaw. “A lot. Gods, you smell amazing,” he blurted, as if he couldn't help himself.
That self-conscious heat evolved into something entirely different, and pure want coursed through you instead. You ached again and your body seemed to prickle all over with desire.
His hands drifted a fraction lower, to frame your hips, and his fingers dug into your soft flesh. Above the music you heard him give a long, deep lowing sound; primal and visceral and honest in its appreciation, and it made you shiver.
You lost track of time as you danced together. It wasn’t so much ‘dancing’ as ‘sharing the same space and touching wherever you could both get away with it before it became completely indecent’.
At one point, when you’d turned to face him again, someone nudged into you from behind and a hand wandered over your back, and you flinched closer to Cade. He pulled his lips back and showed all his teeth, and the human who had wandered too close to your corner of paradise shied away with hands raised.
“Didn’t take you for the jealous type,” you said, and Cade growled at you instead.
“I’m not,” he said. “But I am protective. If you want to leave here with someone else tonight instead of me, I won’t stop you.”
“I don’t want to,” you said, placing your hand on the centre of his chest. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go home with you tonight either, but I do want your number and I do want to see you again.”
He smiled, and drew his phone from his back pocket. He twitched his muzzle towards the edge of the dance floor and then offered you his palm, leading you through the jostling crowd towards a quieter spot and shielding you with the bulk of his body when you had to force your way through the crush. You exchanged numbers, and then he looked over your shoulder and said, “Your friend is coming over.”
You turned to find Mal easing his way around the edge of the dance floor. He was moving slowly, carefully, the way he did when he was very drunk and trying not to show it. “Ah, man, I’ll have to get him home safely,” you sighed. “I guess this is goodbye for now.”
Cade nodded. “I’ll see you both to a cab if you like.”
“You are protective,” you chuckled.
“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.”
“No, you’re not,” you smiled. “If you like, you can get on the other side of Mal and see that he doesn’t slither off somewhere.”
The two of you wrangled a very curious and very obvious Mal into the back of a cab, and Cade came to stand with his hands on your waist. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his ears tilted back in a perfect display of meek shyness.
“Yes,” you exhaled.
He lowered his head and brought his muzzle to your lips. His mouth was soft against yours and he pressed his lips against you and then let the very tip of his tongue lave over your lips while his rough hands rose to cup your jawline and hold your face delicately. Cade didn’t spend long kissing you, since it was evident that this was a human gesture for which his body was not really built, but he did move to nuzzle your cheek with the velvet fur of his muzzle before stepping back and breathing out a long sigh.
Before he could say anything sweet or romantic, Mal opened the door and half his tail spilled back out onto the tarmac, and he cursed. “Fuck. I just wanted to say to hurry the fuck up because I’m cold and drunk and I don’t want to sit the back of this cab any longer than I have to,” he slurred, his forked tongue thick with drink. “Sorry,” he tacked on a little late.
Cade chuckled and helped you tuck Mal’s python tail back into the car for a second time, and you shook your head. “I’m so sorry,” you said, and squeezed his arm. “I’ll see you at the gym? And I’ll text you.”
He nodded, and you got in to the taxi next to Mal and shot him a flat look. “That was not cool,” you said. “You only get a free pass because it’s your birthday.”
And with that, you told the driver his address, and then, when Mal was safely inside and a little more sober, you headed home.
A text was waiting from Cade but you saved it for when you were finally ready for bed, and as you lay there in the dark, you opened your messages with a little trepidation.
>> You looked so beautiful tonight. I was *this* close to not going out tonight, but I’m so glad I did. I hope you got back ok and that the birthday boy isn’t going to suffer too much. I’ll be at the gym tomorrow. Perhaps we can grab a coffee somewhere afterwards if you’re going to be around? Night, and sleep well. C x <<
You read it through four times before you replied, and after that, you saw each other every day for a fortnight solid.
It started with coffee after the gym and then progressed to drinks, and then drinks and a snack, and then dinner, and then dinner and a movie, and then dinner and the same movie again because there was nothing else on that you wanted to watch, and then dinner and a stroll along the riverbank while the city lights twinkled around you. Finally, after two weeks of meeting every day, he took your hands in his and kissed you silly on one of the bridges over the river.
He nuzzled you afterwards and let out all these delicious, gnollish noises that made your heart skip and dance and skitter around like a trapped bird in your ribcage.
“I want you,” you gasped as he leaned you back a little way and closed his mouth around your neck, raking his teeth oh so gently across your skin. He froze, and then drew back.
“You mean it?” he asked in an equally soft voice. His dark eyes were huge and his ears frankly adorable as they swivelled first back against his head in uncertainty and then pricked forwards in undeniable hope. His tail rose high and fluffy behind him and you giggled softly.
“Yes, I mean it,” you laughed. “I want you.”
“Now?”
“Not ‘now on this bridge’,” you snorted. “Now as in tonight. Now as in take me home.”
“Yours or mine?”
“Whose is closer?” you asked in a decidedly hoarse voice.
He paused. “Mine, probably.”
“Then let’s go there.”
He held your hand all the way there, and stopped at least five more times to nuzzle you and kiss you.
You’d been to his a couple of times before during your whirlwind courtship, but you’d only cuddled on the sofa while eating popcorn and watching reruns of your favourite shows. This time, you didn't bother with the sofa.
You kicked off your shoes at the door and he backed you towards the bedroom, growling and making those delicious, low-frequency lowing sounds in a constant, rumbling song. He loomed over you, but you grinned up at him and tugged at the lower hem of his black t-shirt.
He tore it off over his head to reveal the coarse, ivory fur of his chest and throat, and you reached for him, watching as your fingers disappeared into it. He growled — actually growled — when you scrunched your fingers and tugged experimentally, and you looked up at him again. He was panting softly, eyes half-lidded with his muzzle tilted upwards a fraction.
“Bed. Now,” you said in an unusually assertive voice.
Cade gasped and then simply picked you up by the hips. You looped your legs around his middle and let him carry you into his bedroom, where he deposited you carefully onto the bed and leaned down over you. It didn’t take you long to discard your clothes and he stared at you in wonder when you lay back again.
He was hard and as he rutted through his jeans against your thigh, you arched your back off the bed and moaned. “Now, Cade. Please.”
You ached all over and you’d never been this turned on in all your life. Every nerve ending seemed to have been dialled up to eleven and every time his rough paws skimmed over your skin, you gasped and jerked and groaned.
“So sensitive,” he purred, leaning back to undo his jeans and cast them aside. His boxers came next, and you tried not to stare at the size of him. You hoped you could take him.
He knelt between your legs and gently bit and mouthed his way up your inner thighs before closing his mouth over you and letting his tongue savour you. It should have been unnerving to have the most powerful jaws of almost any creature on land so close to where you were most delicate, but it sent a thrill up your spine instead. He moved his head between your legs and you let your hand rest between his ears, guiding his pace and taming his ardour a little.
Cade drew back, his eyes glassy and his muzzle wet with a combination of your arousal and his drool, and he rasped, “You taste incredible.”
“I want to come with you inside me,” you moaned. “I want you to knot me, Cade.”
His eyes fluttered and rolled at that and he gripped his cock in one hand as though trying to stave off his own orgasm already. “Fuck,” he grunted. “Fuck, that’s about the hottest thing you could have said to me. I’m really not gonna last long now. Oh fuck, I can already feel —”
“Cade, inside me. Now.”
“You’re sure?”
“Cade…” There was a growl to your voice too.
His cock was leaking all over his hand, all over the back of his fingers, and he wasn’t even working himself. You weren’t going to need any extra help to ease him inside you, but you were going to need him to take it gently.
“Slowly,” you warned as he lined himself up. He nodded, looking nervous and earnest.
The tip of his cock nudged inside you and you groaned and lay back, enjoying the huge stretch of him. Cade, meanwhile, bit back a curse and began to shake all over.
“I can’t,” he gasped. “Please… I…”
“Keep going,” you said, sounding gloriously winded already and he was only a little way inside you. “Don’t stop.”
The gnoll let out a long, lowing groan and then braced himself on both arms. You drew your knees up to help him and he began to pant again. “Fuck,” he cursed as he eased himself further inside you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, I can’t I’m… I’m going to come… fuck, you’re tight. Oh fuck, beautiful, I can’t…”
“Yes you can,” you crooned, though the seduction in your voice was a little strangled by the intensity of the stretch as he eased almost all the way into you. “You can wait for me, I know you can. You’re so good; you’re so kind, Cade. You’re going to make this amazing for me, I know you are…”
At the string of praise, his heavy jaws parted to show all his thick, sharp teeth and he began to shake with the effort of not plunging into you in a single stroke until finally, finally, he was seated inside you to the hilt of his cock.
“See?” you said, reaching for the ruff around his neck and threading your fingers into the depths of the soft fur.
He keened and began to rock his hips. “Please… Please can I move now?”
“Yes, Cade. Let me feel all of you inside me.”
What began as a slow, careful slide of his huge cock inside you hastened to a desperate rhythm in minutes. His hips snapped against yours and you felt the weight of his balls as they rocked against you with each thrust. Cade was whining with each stroke, and you realised that the delicious stretch was growing, and each time he withdrew, it was a little less far.
“You’re going to knot me, aren’t you?” you gasped, drawing your knees up even further so that he hit you just-so with the tip of his cock at the apex of each desperate thrust.
“Mmnn,” he whimpered. “Fuck. I’m so close. You’re so gorgeous. Been thinking about this since… since we danced. Gods, I wanted to fuck you that night. Came all over myself when I got home. Popped a knot and everything, oh fuck, oh fuck you’re so tight I’m going to come, I’m so close, I’m going to come, can I come? Please let me come, beautiful, please let me fill you —”
His babbling, rambling pleas devolved into another gnollish low and he threw his head back, picking up the desperate pace. His hands grabbed your hips and his claws pricked your skin as he pulled you further onto his growing knot with every thrust. Delirious pleasure coursed through you and you barely had the presence of mind left to give him the permission he clearly craved.
“Yes, come for me,” you slurred. “Come inside me, Cade. Fill me —”
With a roar, his hips snapped against yours one last time and his whole body locked up. His lips pulled back from his huge teeth into a rictus of ecstasy and his eyes rolled as he came in huge, shuddering waves, lost to the pleasure of your body as his knot finally swelled to fill you and the sensation of it tipped you over the edge as well. As your body clenched around him, he cursed again and tugged you somehow even further onto his knot. His hips spasmed against you and you could feel him emptying himself into you in waves.
It was a long time before he stopped coming, and even with his knot plugging you tight, you felt some of his come start to leak out around you already, spilling down your thighs and onto the sheet. “Fuck,” he hissed again, and his body went suddenly slack, though his chest was still heaving for breath.
He fell forwards over you and braced himself at the last second on his forearms. You lowered your legs and he grunted as the movement jolted his over-sensitive knot, but you stayed there for a long time.
Gradually, your breathing settled into the same rhythm and your heartbeats slowed, and a leaden satisfaction descended into your whole body. You felt full, and cherished as he held you.
You lost track of time as you lay there together, but finally his knot receded and you felt a lot more of his come start to slide down your thighs. “Making a mess,” you mumbled from where you were half-buried by the soft fur near his ear.
“Mmph.”
“If you’re expecting me to have put on enough muscle to chest press you off me, you’re sorely mistaken,” you quipped, and to your joy, he gave a delighted, gnollish giggle and lifted his head enough to regard you with his slightly unfocused, dark brown eyes.
“You’re really something,” he said, and he let his pink tongue just grace the tip of your nose. “You sore? You want me to run you a bath?”
“Oof, yes please,” you smiled. No one had ever offered to do that for you after sex, and you were indeed a little sore from where he’d stretched you further than anyone ever had.
He lifted himself off you carefully, withdrawing from you and giving a little grunt as his softening cock slid free. He sat back on his haunches and ran his thumbs over the curve of your thighs, staring at where you knew you were probably gaping a bit. It was hard not to feel embarrassment until he murmured, “You’re exquisite.”
Cade leaned over you and fondly raked his upper and lower teeth over the soft flesh of your thigh before laving his tongue over your skin and then finally standing on shaky legs. “Been a while since I came like that,” he admitted shyly as he staggered towards the door. “Think I might skip leg day tomorrow and just chill out here.”
“I’ll join you,” you said. “I may never regain feeling in my legs.”
“I’ll carry you around anyway,” he grinned as he left and went to run the bath.
True to his word, Cade did carry you around his apartment the next day, and your feet barely touched the ground from the moment you woke to the moment you fell asleep in his bed for the second night in a row.
You weren’t exactly complaining though. It was heaven.
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I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like. Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.
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polin-erospsyche · 6 months ago
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Nope that’s it, I’m done, I can’t do it anymore, give me back my sanity and my life please before I die and the reason for my death is this shit
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He’s pulling her in?? She’s running into his arms?? They’re hugging and looking so nauseatingly beautiful and in love??? And then they’re back in season 4???? We’ll get Colin “THATS MY WIFE” Bridgerton???
ALSO after getting a clearer version of this, this shit just gets more disgustingly sweet. LIKE HELLO, THEIR SMILES??? His DIMPLE? What do you mean he has DIMPLES and how did I never notice this before? Sir, mam, no, I can’t take the way you’re smiling at each other.
They’re smiling at each other adoringly and they’re thinking the exact same thing. He’s thinking “thank god she is exactly where she belongs, in my arms”, she’s thinking “I’m exactly where I belong, in his arms”.
The AMOUNT of pure bliss and adoration they have for each other is INSANE! I think I have found my limit. I can take agony, pining, heartbreak, anger and whatever else but THIS? Nope, I don’t think I can do episode 8. Like if I don’t die in between episodes 1 to 7 then I need to be sedated for episodes 8 and any future crumbs we’ll get of them, cause I’m loosing my shit.
Anyway I’ll just live in this clip now until part 1 comes out, wondering when on earth I’ll find someone who I can love and who loves me this much.
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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 4 months ago
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Jump then Fall prt.7
𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔪𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔴 ℑ'𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫. 𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫
Description: Y/N finds it difficult to stay away from Aeron after receiving his love letters. Aeron prepares to negotiate peace with Benjicot Blackwood in an attempt to end the conflict between their Houses and win his fair lady back to him.
Part 6
Warnings and writer's note: Female reader, swearing, angst with fluff, nauseatingly sweet love letters (Aeron is as per usual just trying his best). References events in The Blackwood Knight by Elizabeth :) References to Persuasion by Jane Austen and The Cruel Prince series by Holly Black.
Y/N had become a ghostly presence haunting her fathers halls. Her grief at Aeron's betrayal and the loss of her love consuming her whole. Each day a raven would arrive for her with another letter from Aeron, and she would read it and read it again until the parchment was crumpled, his words barely legible through the stains of her tears, perched in a window sill overlooking the vast expanse of Bracken lands. Her anger had diminished with each day they spent apart until only a pressing feeling of utter despair remained. Each letter Aeron sent stoked the dying embers of Y/N's belief in his love for her until a spark lit the fire anew. Surely he would not be so persistent and penitent had he never loved her, if he did not love her now?
She found herself daily imagining she would see Aeron walking the path to her father's home from her perch, demanding to see her. Would she be happy or angered by his presumption, she did not know. Her dissapointment that he did not come seemed to confirm the former, and yet she could not fault him for respecting her wishes to keep his distance. And even as she felt herself believing his words, forgiving him and so desiring to grant him her love again, she knew she could not when his marriage to Rosyln Tully was was essential to strengthening his House.
So, in her confusion over her own feelings she spent her days reading Aeron's letters, envisioning his brows drawing together in concentration and wishing to smooth the frown which arose as he considered what words would please her. She felt her heart fill with affection at the thought. She found herself letting out a half-hearted laugh as she pondered that Aeron must have asked Samwell for advice and he would surely have suggested all sorts of crude vulgarities in jest, which Aeron would immediately have rejected in abject horror. His words were too sweet, too soft, too full of adoration to be but his own.
My Darling Lady,
I do not know how to express my adoration for you in words that can be contained within the small form of a letter. I have acted selfishly and injured your heart when it is the dearest and greatest gift. I have so much of you in mine own that the thought of any harm befalling you terrifies me, and yet it is I who have harmed you by my infraction. With this raven fancy that I beg your forgiveness on my knees and write myself as your vassal. Your Knight does humbly ask you to rescind your order to part from your side. 
I urge you to come be angry at a nearer distance,
Your Good knight
His letters had began as fitful explanations of his conduct, of his intentions, each one more pleading than the last.
My Sweet Girl,
I entreat you to believe that there is nothing that I want in all the world but your precious love. For me your every action sets my world alight and recreates it from the flames anew. Your smile ever the brightest, your laugh ever the dearest sound, your kiss ever the sweetest. The world is made colourless by your absence and I am filled once again with admiration for your light, my world so much the darker without it. Even if you do not love me, I could not help being entirely devoted to you. Like a heathen it is your star I worship, not that of the seven.
Most fervently,
Your Good Knight
My Dearest heart,
I am reduced to a being that loves you and can hardly bear to entertain any other thought. I love you when I attend my duties, though I have not the heart for them without yours, I love you when I walk the paths we once trod together. I love you when I notice the golden leaves of our tree turn a deep red with the passage of your absence, and when my mind deigns to grant me rest it is of you and you alone I dream.
Ever Yours,
Your Good Knight
Hearing footsteps and turning to see a messenger approaching, she held the crumpled pieces of parchment to her heart and briefly shut hers eyes tightly to ward off her unspilled tears. "Another raven has come for you from Bracken Hall"
Y/N hastily took the rolled up parchment, ripping it open the moment the messenger turned the corner down the hall. Her eyes scanned the contents frantically and her heart leapt into her throat. His plan to treat with the heir of Raventree was rash, feckless, and sure to place him in danger that sent terror down her spine. And should he fail in his bold scheme she could be no more truly his than she was now. How could she selfishly give her heart to Aeron again when the political ramifications may be dire for his House and the Riverlands without the support of House Tully?
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"Still hoping a lightening bolt will strike you down and kill you?"
Samwell waltzed into Aeron's Chambers without invitation, throwing the curtains open to allow some light to enter the room. Aeron lifted his head only slightly from where he'd placed it on his desk. He had yet to hear from Benjicot Blackwood and had heard nothing from his love for more than two torturous weeks.
"I confess I considered striking you down myself when I realised what you'd done you bloody fool. Piteous as you look now my dear fellow, it would be a mercy killing. But you owe it to both Y/N and yourself to fix this. What do you plan to do?" Samwell's tone suddenly turned serious as he pulled up a chair. Aeron sat upright and turned to face his friend.
"I have already done it, or at the very least set my plans in motion. I have sent a letter to Raventree Hall, asking the future Lord Blackwood to treat with me for peace."
Samwell's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "By the seven, I thought you'd turned to madness in your grief. Now I'm certain I was right. The Blackwood and Bracken enmity runs deep my friend."
"I'm aware Samwell. But I have reason to believe The Blackwood heir will be amenable, he is in love with my dear cousin. It would allow us both to marry the ones we love."
"Surely not Edmund?" Aeron shot Samwell a fierce glare at his attempt to jest at such a time and Samwell held his palms up placatingly.
"Right, you must make a success of it then. Does your lady know?"
"I sent a raven yesterday. She has not responded to any of my previous correspondence so I do not expect a reply now, but I still hold hope that if my words will not win her back to me they will help to heal the wounds I have wrought on her heart." Aeron closed his eyes and breathed in sharply, struggling to get his words out as he tried to maintain his composure. A sudden knock at his door sent a jolt through him and had his eyes snapping open to see his cousin Edmund standing sheepishly in the doorway.
Aeron's face contorted in rage. "What do you want?" He had avoided Edmund ever since the banquet, sure he would not be able to control his anger with him for placing more doubt in the mind of his lady all the while aware his anger was misplaced, it had been him who'd sown the seeds of his own destruction. Edmund closed the door behind him before coming to stand in the middle of the room, notably out of Aeron's reach.
"I wish to apologise for my actions in the banquet. In truth my intentions were to warn the lady to avoid her expectations being cruelly dashed should you marry the Tully girl. I see now that I was wrong and you loved her all along. I will help you if I can. I couldn't help but overhear you sent a letter to Raventree."
"Perhaps if you had not been standing silently outside my door" Aeron spoke through gritted teeth, not softened by Edmund's apology as yet.
"What I mean to say is that I have already spoken with Benjicot Blackwood of a potential peace pact when I caught him waiting for our cousin. He is equitable and will want to forge a way forward that will enable him to marry her. Let me join you at the border once you have his reply." Aeron's mouth parted slightly in shock at Edmund's uncharacteristic sincerity and his heart beat wildly in his chest as hope surged in him. If he could pull this off, they could bring peace to the Riverlands and surely Y/N would know that his love for her was true. He'd be changing the very fabric of his lands, the very foundations of his beliefs for her. "So be it, I will send for you when the time comes." Upon his dismissal, Edmund bowed his head respectfully and swiftly vacated Aeron's Chambers, leaving him with a renewed sense of determination.
A raven carried Benjicot Blackwood's acceptance to Aeron's proposed meeting later that day. They would meet at first light on the morrow.
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Y/N had not wanted to leave the comfort of her home at all, nevermind go to Bracken Hall and risk bumping into Aeron. She could not trust herself not to just forgive him on the spot and fall into his arms. But her mother had insisted she get some fresh air and meet her father on his way home from council with Lord Bracken. Y/N knew that her mother was concerned about her wellbeing, moping about her fathers halls as she had been doing of late.
The whole journey to Bracken Hall, Y/N had been racked by trepidation and as she entered Aeron's ancestral seat she expected to run into him at every turn. When she reached the corridor which led to the council chamber she breathed a short lived sigh of relief before the object of all her hopes and fears rounded the corner, halting in his step at the sight of her.
With what looked like a concerted effort, Aeron stayed rooted to the spot and came no closer to her, though the slight upturn of his lips at seeing his lady after so long did not escape her. "My lady, can I enquire..."
"Don't, please don't smile or ask after me." She cut him off promptly.
"I do not wish to impose upon you my lady. But may I not at least enquire as to your wellbeing?" 
She did not know if it was the softness of his tone, as if approaching a startled deer, the gentle concern of his questioning, or the tenderness she could see in his eyes that prompted her tears, perhaps a mixture of all three. Tears flowed from her eyes unbidden and so she brought her hands to her face to cover them from Aeron, turning her back to him to ease her embarrassment slightly at falling apart in front of him. "Oh my love" she heard Aeron call to her, followed by brisk steps and the light touch of his hand on her elbow as he gently turned her to face him. He did not make a move to remove her hands from her face and for that she was most grateful.
Instead he placed one arm tentatively about her shoulders, pulling her into him, her head falling into the crook of his neck as he let his fall onto her shoulder. " I should not be leaning on you like this, not anymore" Y/N sniffled. Aeron held her tighter "You can ways lean on me. It matters not if you decide to cast me aside later. I will gladly comfort you if I can." He said nothing more, just holding her until her sniffles dissipated and her breathing had evened out. But he hastily grabbed onto both her elbows in alarm when he felt her weight slump more forcefully onto him as her legs began to give out. Quickly pulling her to sit on the bottom step of the nearby stairwell that led to his Lord Uncle's Council room, he knelt in front of her and looked into her face with concern, searching for any sign of injury.
Y/N was sure that it was just the lack of sleep and food catching up with her, and her emotional distress that had caused the wave of nausea and faintness to wash over her and send her swaying. "Have you been unwell my love?" By the tone of Aeron's voice she was sure she must look wretched, dark circles drawn under her eyes, which were red and raw from her tears. Breathing deeply and trying to calm the butterflies that erupted from his worry for her, Y/N willed herself to speak. "Could you bring me some wine, I think it would revive me."
Wordlessly Aeron rose back on his feet and dissapeared down the hall, quickly returning with a goblet of wine. Kneeling back down in front of her he handed her the goblet, their fingers brushing together as she took it from him. She blushed under his gaze as he wove one hand around her waist to help her sit up to drink and gently held her elbow in his other hand to help her bring the cup to her lips. After a few moments the wine took affect and Y/N felt much better, although embarrassment quickly washed over her at her actions and she could barely look at Aeron. Lowering his head to chase her eyes, he seemed to be assessing her condition. "I am alright Aeron, thank you for your help." His eyes positively lit up, a small smile spreading across his lips, she knew not why. At her look of confusion, Aeron's smile only grew. "You said my name" he practically sighed out and Y/N felt her cheeks blaze, at which a look of determination lit Aeron's eyes.
"Please do not tell me that I cannot win your trust back, that you will not love me again or allow me to love you, that such precious feelings are lost. Do anything but tell me there is no hope."
His voice was so earnest, his eyes so full of love for her that Y/N could not help but feel her heart concede to him, though her mind told her to remain cautious. Heart pounding, she looked down so he could not see for himself the warring emotions in her eyes. "There is hope." She whispered. She was moved by his efforts to prove his love to her through meeting with the Blackwood heir. She had barely spoken those words before Aeron had pulled her to him oncemore, her head falling onto his shoulder as he half laughed, half sobbed in gratitude and relief. Pulling away, he looked seriously into her eyes. "I will aspire to deserve this chance from you Y/N and I swear to you that I will prove my love to you."
Y/n returned home with her father that evening feeling as if a pressing weight had been lifted from her. She felt the deep wound she'd been dealt on the evening of the banquet tentatively beginning to heal, though she knew that they were not out of the woods yet.
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@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @alexandracgg
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woonhakist · 1 year ago
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your only girl
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synopsis — you see karina as your own personal aphrodite on earth—arguably even more alluring than the goddess herself—but you could never imagine her knowing that.
pairing — yoo jimin x fem!reader
genre — fluff, angst
warnings — one-sided pining(?), the infamous nail painting scenario, mostly just best friend!karina things (but y/n is horrendously down bad), kinda ambiguous ending
word count — 2.3k
notes — i finally did it…..after suddenly feeling the urge to write this for her, i came out with this 🙏 enjoy!
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“what color do you want?” karina asked, fanning out her shimmering, ruby-painted nails. her gaze was glued onto her hands, pure satisfaction in her expression.
“whatever color you want, rina,” you responded, giggling through your words at her intentionally over-exaggerated awe towards her freshly colored nails. “i don’t mind.”
“ooh! okay,” karina clasped her hands together excitedly, tucking her long, shiny black hair behind her ear before digging through the nail polish bin beside her. “i’ll find the best color for you, just wait.”
you hummed in acceptance, staring down as you pressed your palms onto karina’s silky sheets. you silently envisioned different colors on your bare nails, the entire rainbow cycling through your head: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, then purple; all of them over, and over, and over again.
suddenly breaking your color-filled trance, you brought your eyes back up to karina, being met with her nauseatingly gorgeous side profile. you swallowed heavily, your cheeks heating up. instinctively, your hands met each other, taking turns wringing the other hand’s fingers.
there wasn’t a single ounce of makeup on her skin, yet she still had the face of a goddess. she radiated a type of energy that never failed to reel you in, it was like you were eternally hooked on her line. you thought she was above every standardly beautiful face; not even aphrodite could touch her.
“i think i found one,” karina announced, pulling out a thin bottle of shimmery, dull pink nail polish. she shook it gently between her index finger and thumb, smiling widely. “we can match!”
you smiled back at her, your heart pounding. “i have no complaints, that color’s so pretty!”
no amount of times you called something ‘pretty’ could equate to the amount of times you wished you could call her beautiful. even though you already found yourself saying it tons of times, you wanted to say it in contexts that weren’t just complimenting her pictures or makeup.
“even if you did have complaints, i’d still put this on you,” karina joked, beginning to prep the nail polish for painting. “it’s gonna look so good, promise!”
as much as you’d like to be, you weren’t even close to being the only one who thought karina was heaven sent. she was the type of girl that was adored by every passerby and classmate she came across; she was completely the type of girl to be the one you’d see first in a crowd of people.
you couldn’t even fully count the amount of admirers she had on two entire sets of hands. as far as you remembered, nearly every boy in your classes had their heart beating for her. valentine’s days for her were far beyond eventful, and the school’s dance seasons were even worse.
she got far more attention than you ever did, but you never minded; you could barely even care to recall admirers of your own. her attention was the only attention you had ever really wanted; she was enough. you never wanted to be her or be like her, you wanted to be with her.
“give me your hand, y/n,” karina spoke, interrupting your thoughts. she had her own hand out, palm up, patiently waiting for yours.
as soon as you reached your hand out to her, she took it into a gentle grip into her own soft, pretty hand. the pads of her fingers tickled your palm and the back of your hand, awkwardly trying to find the least awkward position to paint your nails. she extended your arm out a little bit more; assumedly for comfort while she worked.
she took the lid-brush out and carefully balanced the topless bottle on the sheets beside her, playing a dangerous game of ‘will it’ or ‘won’t it’ fall with the polish. you let your eyes linger on the bottle for a few seconds, monitoring it as karina carefully shifted in her spot.
“whatever! if it falls over, i can just have you help me wash the blankets,” karina giggles, eyes on your nails. she finally begins to paint the first coat, the cold feeling of the polish spreading through your finger.
you watched her watch your hand, admiring her in the same way everybody else does. you like to think that you do it better, but you know that you don’t. if you did, you knew that karina would have some sort of suspicion, and you didn’t want that.
as much as you didn’t want to be like everybody else, you wanted a special life with karina. you wanted to be what she considered to be her type; her standard. you wanted to be like the boys on the football team that she gawked over, swooning every time and time again. you wanted to be what she wanted, but you couldn’t.
“so, find any new crushes or anything?” karina pried, her voice gradually rising in pitch as she spoke. “you were talking about jaemin from physics earlier, what’s that about?”
you rolled your eyes, sighing at her. “no, nothing new, as per usual. jaemin’s not my type, either—and before you ask why, don’t! i’m just not into him!”
karina laughed and you soon followed her lead, trying your best to keep your hand still for her. she held the polish brush away from your hand as she laughed, but you didn’t want to smudge any of her work.
“so, what is your type, then?” karina settled down, her eyes following as she continued to paint. she was nothing near professional, but you’d pick her over picasso any day. “i don’t think you’ve ever really told me.”
“that’s because i don’t think i really even have one,” you lied, staring at your type right in front of you. “i thought you knew that?”
“well, yeah,” karina tilted her head down and back up, smiling awkwardly. “but, i mean, you can change your mind?”
“that definitely won’t happen anytime soon,” you laughed, and karina fake pouted. she looked up at you, and you could feel your heart skip a couple beats.
“i want to see you all lovey-dovey with someone!” karina gushed, leaning forward for dramatic effect. you laughed for what felt like the hundredth time. “it’s normal for people to want to see their best friend happy like that!”
she only wanted you in the way you didn’t want her to; friendly. you knew it was better than growing apart because of a potential confession from you, but you couldn’t stop your chest from burning every time she talked about someone else romantically. you wanted her to talk about you like that.
“i don’t know, rina,” you shook your head, speaking with purposely amplified uncertainty. “the time will come when it’ll come.”
there was a beat of silence before karina suddenly bursted out laughing, acting as if you said the greatest joke ever told. “wow! how beautifully spoken, y/n. who knew the time would come when it comes?”
you dropped your jaw, instantaneously hunching over to act offended. “hey, i was shakespeare’s ghostwriter in my past life!”
“yeah, right!” karina refuted, leaning forward as her laughter consumed her entire body. “you barely passed english last year!”
she struggled to get her words out as much as you struggled to process them. yours and her laughter was all that you were able to focus on, and it was almost like the pounding beat of your heart was completely inaudible. it was moments like this where you could almost forget how you felt—almost.
in the midst of her laughing fit, karina suddenly squeezed your hand, consequently snapping you back into the moment. your heartbeat rose back up to your throat, replacing your breathtaking laughter. you began to blink at karina slowly, feeling your skin heat up under her grip.
you watched her calm down as you internally did the complete opposite, feeling like you were bound to explode from the heat bubbling up inside your chest. karina put her “free” hand over her own chest, making sure she kept the nail brush away from her shirt.
“jesus christ,” karina breathed out, her last laughs fizzling out. “i swear, i can only laugh like this when i’m with you!”
“i’m not even that funny!” you grin widely, karina returning the smile without a second thought. “maybe the nail polish fumes got to you.”
“stop! you’re gonna make me laugh again,” karina whined, rolling her head back in faux annoyance. “i don’t know, i think it’s just your effect on me.”
you froze. you knew she didn’t mean it in the way you were interpreting it as, but hearing those words from her did something to you. your insides felt like they did a complete turnover, flipping the ‘in’ to the ‘out’ during the process.
“what are you talking about, now?” you questioned, trying your best to sound teasing instead of troubled.
karina shook her head, giving you a gentle smile before continuing to paint your nails. “you know how i like, love you more than life, right? i’m pretty sure that has something to do with it.”
you took a long pause before scoffing lightly, trying to choke down everything that was suddenly fighting to come up to the surface. “why so sentimental all of a sudden?”
karina didn’t respond, opting for finishing your first hand instead. aside from the occasional sniffle, she looked concentrated. her eyebrows were furrowed and her shoulders were tense; you would’ve thought time stopped for a second if it wasn’t for her lax painting.
karina bit her lip lightly, her mouth morphing into a small smile. “switch hands—be careful with the polish, though.”
she let go of your painted hand, and you simultaneously gave her your other one. you took a look at your freshly colored nails, satisfied with the way the pink looked on you. the shimmer was just right, as well, almost catching the light in the same way it caught karina’s eyes.
“you were right, rina. this color looks super nice,” you commented, in awe with your own hand. you weren’t sure if you were in love with the nails or the fact that karina was the one that painted them—probably both.
“what’d i tell you? you have to trust me!” karina scolded, a smile growing on her face for the millionth time. “it shouldn’t need a second coat, either; this polish is just perfect!”
you didn’t know how she could call something perfect when she herself was beyond it. “yeah, it is.”
karina began to repeat her nail-polishing cycle; reshaking the bottle, readying the brush, steadying the bottle on the sheets, adjusting your hand, then finally painting. it was a slow, peaceful minute of silence, letting you bask in the comforting presence of your best friend.
“you never answered my question,” you blurted out before you knew it, breaking the silence.
“what question?” karina mumbled, not completely present in the conversation.
you shook your head, already regretting what you said. “nothing, it doesn’t matter.”
“no, tell me,” karina insisted, glancing up at you then back down.
the watered-down mood would’ve felt uncomfortable to you, but since it was karina, you found yourself smiling. “i was just wondering why you suddenly got so sappy earlier.”
“oh, that,” you could see karina’s silent laugh, her shoulders bouncing lightly. “i don’t know, i just can’t help it; i feel so comfortable around you—i trust you more than anything, y/n.”
you felt a pang in your chest as soon as you heard the word trust; something you knew couldn’t apply to you at all. it felt so wrong; you were lying—keeping such a huge secret from her—yet you were allowed her unquestioned trust.
she lived out her life with you believing that all you thought of her was that of a best friend, but it was so much more. you knew how you felt, but you also knew you could never let karina find out. you practically betrayed her every day, but you didn’t think you could ever bring yourself to come clean to her—even if you knew she deserved it more than anything.
the best you could do was pretend—pretend you weren’t head-over-heels for the beautiful girl who called you her best friend; your only girl. the most you could do was try for her; you didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t. you did everything for her as much as you did it for yourself, but no matter who you did it for, the consequences were all the same.
“did that answer your question?” karina interrupted, bringing you out of your thoughts. she was looking up into your eyes now, her charmingly kind expression resting on her face.
“yeah, it did,” you responded shakily, nodding your head. to your relief, karina didn’t seem to notice your nerves, happily moving on to her next topic.
“okay, good!” she let go of your hand, and you almost tried to chase her touch as she pulled back, reluctantly settling for letting her slip away. she frantically picked up the open polish bottle then carefully screwed its top back on, looking straight at you. “i finally finished painting your nails; do you like them, or do you love them?”
she was almost too excited, her pure joy giving her a picture-perfect girlish look. her clear delight was infectious, subconsciously making you mirror her expression. you found it all too hard to not be overly captivated by her, and this time around, you didn’t even think about fighting it. you couldn’t even look at your nails; all you saw was her.
“i absolutely love them,” you admitted, your eyes only seeing karina.
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pouroverpaloma · 29 days ago
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paloma I have revivified my tumblr from its decade-long sleep to beseech you: please talk about Rolan with me because I have Thoughts® and Feelings™ such as: As the eldest sibling do you think he has an oversized and detrimental sense of responsibility that continues to impact him negatively? like during his apprenticeship, do you think he actively avoided Cal and Lia to stop them from either storming the tower themselves or worrying over him when they were supposed to be enjoying being safe in the city, etc. do you think that sense of responsibility extends to Tav or is Tav the person that makes him feel like he doesn't HAVE to be in charge and on top of everything.
also this is hazelrah on ao3!!! I cannot stop commenting on your fics to save my life
Omg hi Hazel!!! ♥️ both Thoughts® AND Feelings™, what a treat you’ve brought for me
As a preface, I’m of the opinion that Lorroakan intentionally isolated Rolan. That’s one of the reasons Lorroakan didn’t let Cal and Lia stay in his fuck-off massive tower. Narcissism and disdain for others also drove that decision, because he’s an asshole, but I really think Rolan can’t be the first apprentice he’s abused. He knew he could never break Rolan’s will if his siblings were there to support him, and, let’s be real, Lia would clearly kill him with hammers the moment he raised a hand to Rolan. He had to get him completely alone.
As for Rolan—I think his gut knew right away that something was very, very wrong with his apprenticeship, even if intellectually he’d talked himself into staying. I think he did the time-old dance of hiding abuse from your loved ones because you don’t know how to explain it, you think you can’t leave, and you’re frankly embarrassed it’s happening to you at all. Imagine him talking about his apprenticeship back in the grove, right? Now imagine him behind the counter in act 3. The whiplash between his aspirations of greatness and the awful reality of life in the tower must have been extraordinarily soul-crushing, on top of everything else. And he just couldn’t let them see that he’d dragged them all to Baldur’s Gate on a false promise.
All that to say: I imagine Rolan told himself that hiding the truth from Cal and Lia was for their own good, but really, he was ashamed and afraid of failing to make them proud.
Because yeah, he feels way more responsible for them than they could ever know or understand. He’s convinced that he has to earn his place in their family by demonstrating his utility. Rolan is caught in that awful trap of trying to deserve what he already has. It’s a self-defeating cycle because there’s no end state: he already has Cal and Lia’s unconditional love from the very start, so nothing he does can ever make him feel like he “achieved” it. He can run himself into the ground trying to earn their love, but he already has it and he’s too caught up in his own self-loathing to see it.
The thing that finally gets his head out of his ass, of course, is Tav. We see him starting to make the turn at the end of the game, when he’s master of the tower and stepping into his confidence, but from there, I think falling in love really shakes his foundations. It forces him to begin to self-reflect in a way he’s never been emotionally safe to do before.
As for how all of this plays out once they’re together! I think their dynamic is a case of unstoppable force versus immovable object. I think he’s going to devote himself to taking care of absolutely everything for them (because nothing could ever be Good Enough for Tav but goddamn it he’s going to try anyway) and Tav is going to devote themselves to taking care of absolutely everything for him (because Rolan deserves rest and gentleness and adoration maybe more than anyone ever has). This kind of all-consuming care manifests in different ways for each of them, some complementary, some adversarial. They get nauseatingly competitive about it but the sex is phenomenal.
And finally—after a while—he begins to understand that he doesn’t have to handle everything by himself in order to be lovable. He can let go of the reins and let Tav be capable sometimes, and it actually makes Tav happy when he does. Somehow, the sex gets even better.
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son-of-a-top-gun · 10 months ago
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Sky's The Limit Part 3
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we're back baby and things are getting spicy (ish)
Warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of strippers/lapdancing, two horny people who desperately need to get off, shameless flirting, Bradley being a babe as usual, continuation of the bob fucks agenda
Sky's The Limit Part 3
Bradley could tell you were starting to get a little down. As one of the only people who actually knew about the book, he was also one of the only people you can tell about how it was really going. You had been giving hints that it was not going well, but after he catches you lying face down in one of the Hard Deck boothes, he decides that’s enough. It was time for you to have a bit of fun, even just for one night.
“Bradley, it wasn’t what it looked like.”
“I know.” He keeps staring ahead, hands still on the wheel. He had offered to give you a lift to his house, where you were supposed to be having a few ‘casual drinks’. You took one look of the bag of balloons and had known exactly what that meant.
“You don’t have to throw me a stupid party.”
“But this isn’t just any party, baby girl. This is a Bradshaw party, which only get offered to the creme de la creme. Besides, you haven’t even been given a proper welcome to San Diego. There’s no way you can stay here one more day without an official welcome.”
You smile at him. Bradley truly was one of the best friends a girl could wish for. Losing his parents only meant he loved people harder and you loved that about him. You couldn’t have imagined anyone more perfect for your sister, you just wanted them to hurry up and realise they were in love with each other so he could legally become part of the family.
“Ugh fine, But you best make -
“Those biscuits you like. Honestly what do you take me for Ladybug? I’ve already got the ingredients in the back.”
You turn around. Of course he did.
******
Of course the party is perfect. Bradley had cued all your favourite songs, supplied all your favourite snacks (as well as some supposed San Diego delicacies) and invited all your new pilot friends, who you had really become quite fond of. They’d all been extra nice to you lately, which made you wonder what sort of desperate vibes you were giving off. Even Jake had been less annoying the last week, perhaps sensing your stress, making less sassy comments, leaving you well alone when you were trying to write and even occasionally letting you rant about the inaccessibility of online archives. The most surprising thing was that your favourite coffee had been turning up at the Hard Deck every morning before you arrived with a little ladybug drawn on it, along with anonymous notes that had literary motivational quotes on it. You had initially attributed it to Bradley, but he denied it and no one else at the party would fess up either.
The party is in full swing, and you are a couple of drinks in, starting to feel relaxed for the first time in weeks.  You were listening to Phoenix tell everyone about her new girlfriend, which was nauseatingly adorable. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like that about someone. The last guy you went on a date with tried to give you his manuscript to read over the minute you said you were a writer, and after that you swore off casual dating. Which was lucky, because it seemed all the men here were Navy men, which you had sworn off a long time ago.
Without thinking, you find yourself scanning the room. 
Everyone is here, except one particular blonde pilot. You don’t know why you are looking for him. It was just wherever the pilots were, so was he. You had to admit, It was sort of odd for him not to be there. You find yourself wondering if he finally got that hot date he seemed to be begging for. From what the other pilots told you, Jake had always been a massive flirt and had been known to get around most of the women of San Diego. You hated that you were thinking about this so much and took another hefty swig of your drink.
“Hope you didn’t miss me, darlin’.” A familiar voice leans into your ear.
You almost leap out of your skin. “Jesus Christ, Bagman you can’t sneak up on people like that! You nearly scared the pants off me.” He looks down on you with that annoying smile of his and you suddenly feel very cold in your little strappy vest top.
He leans down. “Trust me,  don’t need to scare you to get you out of your pants sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes at him and are about to come back with a witty retort when you see out of the corner of your eye Bradley brandishing an empty bottle. He claps his hands and everyone turns around.
“I think it’s time for a game guys.”
“Really Bradley?” You raise an eyebrow. “Spin the bottle?”
“What, are you scared?” Jake immediately chimes in. You shoot him daggers.
“Only of having to touch you.” You smile sweetly at him as he mimes an arrow going through his chest.
“Can it lovebirds!” Bradley announces, rubbing his hands with glee, “We’re not so basic to play Spin the bottle.” Bradley looks at you and grins. You know this means trouble. “It’s time to play Truth or Dare!”
There is a chorus of cheers across the room.
“Bradley, you are in your thirties.” You tut under your breath, but he ignores it.
He spins the bottle first. It lands on Fanboy first, who chooses truth. 
“Which superhero would you bang?” Bradley asks
“It’s got to be Catwoman right?” Jake is indignant.
Fanboy takes a moment to really think it through, “I dunno, I like to think about what Wonder Woman could do. The lasso could come in handy. What about you guys?”
“I like Batgirl.” Bob offers.
Coyote suggests “Mystique, you know, for roleplaying. It’s basically like having infinite wishes. Also love me a bad girl.” Payback sagely nods.
“How much have you guys all been thinking about this?” You turn to Natasha, who shrugs.
“Jean Grey does it for me.” This made sense, having seen the pictures of her new ginger girlfriend.
They spin the bottle again, this time landing on Bob. He says Truth and you can see Jake already brewing the question, so you jump in.
“How many hookups have you had in the last year?”
“That’s not fair, I was going to ask!”
“Quit your whining.” You turn to Bob, whose cheeks have tinged pink. “Go on.”
“Oh, er, I don’t know, maybe” He starts counting in his head. “Twenty, twenty-five” He looks up. “Are we counting repeat incidents?”
“As in you had sex with them more than once?”
“Uh, yes, I guess.”
“Sure.”
“Because that would bring it up to sixty, seventy- “ You watch as everyone’s jaws go slack. 
“Are you joking?” Jake is stunned. Bradley turns his head. “How?”
“I don’t know, I just like helping people, and I tend to run into women who need help with their coffee, or taking things to their car, or need something tall fixing around the house…” As Bob rambles, it’s cute to see how unaware he is. You lock eyes with Jake, raising your eyebrows to say I told you. Bob fucks.
Third time around, the bottle lands on you. 
“Truth.”
“Oh come on, not everyone can say truth or we are all going to die of boredom.” Jake folds his arms.
“Firstly, I don’t think Bob’s truth was boring at all. In fact I found it very interesting.” You say, throwing a wink to Bob. “But fine, have it your way. Dare.”
This time, Reuben, who has been very quiet, pops up. 
“You have to give Jake a lapdance.”
“What the hell Javy? I thought we were friends.” He shrugs. 
“Just for one minute.
“No way.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Jake sits back.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean Bagman?” There is a chorus of oos from around the room.
“Nothing, it means nothing!” 
“I get it that I’m not your usual type Seresin, but you think you wouldn’t enjoy it?”
“No, just… I mean you seem like the sort who would hate strip clubs.”
You go to speak but bite your tongue.
What Jake didn’t know was that for your last book you had a whole plot involving strippers which meant you spent several days with dancers researching their life. One of them, Brandy, became one of your best friends in New York and had given you many a lesson in lapdancing (to make your writing accurate, of course). But you figured this was a fact best left unsaid. Besides, this was a rare chance to get Jake to eat some humble pie.
“Yeah…But a dare is a dare. Javy…put on Pony.”
You were grateful that the hot weather had meant you had put on a vest and a fairly cute pair of daisy dukes. If you had been wearing a dress there was no way this would be happening. You make a show of stretching while they set the room up, Jake sat on a chair on the middle. You wink at him as you bend over and you see him flush just a little. 
Javy gives the signal for the music. You are kneeling on the floor in front of Jake,.
“Hope you’re ready to have your world rocked Bagman. Bradley, look away.”
“Yes ma’am.” Bradley, seeing you as his honorary younger sister, did what he was told. “You took a deep breath and then a large swig of whisky.
You sat on your knees and let your hair down, slowing rolling your neck as the music starts to play. You try to ignore the hand shaking and slowly look up towards Jake. You expected him to be smug but he’s looking at you with such a look of confusion and pity that you suddenly realise. He genuinely doesn’t think you can do it.  You are suddenly filled with a devilish combination of spite and rage and power. You close your eyes, slowly rolling your body and feeling all the way up yourself, grinding up on some imaginary guy until you flash your eyes open and send him one cautionary wink before slowly licking your fingers. 
You crawl towards Jake and push his knees apart, slowly rising up between them. It’s a good thing he’s wearing shorts right now, his thighs exposed, so you can feel how his skin burns under yours. The look of pity has turned into something else, both fear and astonishment and something darker, but you have no time for this. Your nails dig slightly into his flesh as you rise up slowly between his legs until you are eye to eye. You slowly wrap your legs to the outside of his thighs and slowly start grinding down on his crotch until. 
Oh. 
At least Jake’s arrogance was starting to make sense if all of what you were feeling was true. With this realisation you look up and lock eyes. Jake’s look burns through you like he could devour you whole and you feel him grip onto your thigh, just a little squeeze, and then you suddenly have a terrible physical urge between your legs, when the music suddenly stops.
“That’s one minute!” Reuben calls out. For a moment, neither of the two of you move.
“Guys? You can get off each other you know?” Phoenix interjects. You both leap away from each other. “Although I should say that was phenomenal.” You croak out a thanks before heading to the kitchen.
What the hell was that? You wonder as you pour yourself a glass of water. I guess it really had been a while. Your heart is racing and you steady yourself against the counter, closing your eyes.
“What the hell are they teaching you on that pHD of yours?” Your eyes open to see Jake standing in the door with his arm leaning against the frame. He must know how his arm looks when he does that. You hate how much you like it.
You take a moment and reassume your confidence, laughing a little. “Oh that? Just a little something I picked up back in New York.”
He walks towards you until he’s right next to you on the counter before leaning in. You can feel his hot breath in your ear. “I knew there was something fishy about this pHD stuff. And now I know.” Your breath hitches. Surely there was no way he could have figured it out, could he? Your lapdance scene wasn’t that similar in the book. He looks away from you. “I thought you reminded me of someone and now I know it’s JLo in Hustlers.” He looks over you with a slightly more sincere look. “So are you..you know?” He waves his hand. You can’t believe that out of all the things, the subject of strippers would make Jake Seresin awkward.
“And what if I was?”
But much to your surprise, Jake shrugs. “Everyone has to pay their bills somehow.” He turns back towards you.  “It’s just if you’re not, I think you should seriously consider it. I think you would earn a lot of money.”
“Would you come to my club then?” The alcohol is making you overconfident, so you gently stroke your index finger down his chest.
“Baby.” He now leans his arm on the kitchen cabinet behind you. His face is so close, just above you. You could smell his cologne again and you find yourself wishing you could lick it off his neck.  “I would be there every damn day.” You felt a flutter in your stomach. This was dangerous territory, but it was too late. What would it be like to kiss Jake Seresin, you wondered, leaning forward just a little -
“There you are Ladybug!” Bradley’s voice booms and the two of you pull apart once again. “Hangman, I hope you’re not trying to get seconds.”
The two of you return to the party. You don’t see Hangman for the rest of the party except once where you catch eyes across you the room. You smile at him and he smiles back, before you are pulled back into conversation. When you go to find him again, he is gone.  Weird that he left without saying goodbye. 
When you finally get home and get to bed, you find yourself instinctively reaching your hand between your legs when it happens. Who flashes into your head but a certain blond, handsome and potentially well-hung pilot.
You were fucked.
---
hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you want to be tagged in part four!
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