#surprisingly nothing spicy

[sheena-is-a-punk-rocker]

Sometimes a guy just needs his girlfriend to yell at his psychiatrist

So, there's a lot of quinnflag content about Rick taking care of Harley but not nearly enough of the reverse, so I'm fixing that. Harley being Rick's mental health advocate. Got the prompt over on AO3 and technically it was supposed to be the reverse but this is what you're getting instead.

Harley comes back from her lunch date with Ivy to an eerily quiet apartment—which immediately puts her on edge. “Rick? Baby? You home?”

She hears a sob coming from the TV area and finds Rick, curled up in the fetal position in the tiny bit of space between the couch and coffee table. He’s clearly in the middle of a panic attack—shaking, hyperventilating, hands clamped over his ears.

She immediately goes into Doctor Mode and reaches out to touch him just as another firework (or gunshot, who can fucking tell in this god forsaken neighborhood) goes off from the alley below the open window.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he yells, and she immediately pulls her hand back—trying not to feel hurt by his outburst.

She knows this has nothing to do with her and everything to do with his own trauma—both from the Corto Maltese mission specifically, and the rest of his time in the military.

“Okay, I won’t touch ya,” she says gently. “But baby, you’re having a panic attack. I need you to breathe.”

“Leave me alone, Harley!”

“Nuh-uh. Not goin’ anywhere until ya breathe for me.”

She coaches him through some deep breathing exercises and slowly, he stops shaking and his breathing regulates. She rubs his back soothingly and this time he doesn’t protest. “You okay now, hun?”

He shakes his head vigorously and then says, “Please… I just need some space.”

It breaks her heart but she does as he asks, wandering into the bathroom to grab his meds for him. She frowns when she shakes the bottle and realizes it’s completely full. He started seeing his psychiatrist six months ago.

After that night when he finally broke down and told her about Jotunheim, she’d helped him get set up with a psychiatrist and therapist but after that she butted out—recognizing that he wanted to be able to handle it himself. It suddenly occurs to her that he may have been so focused on her mental health bullshit that he’d neglected his own, and it makes her heart sink.

She goes back into the living room and Rick’s nowhere to be found. She’s about to panic when she hears him say, “In here, Harls,” from the kitchen.

He’s hunched over the sink, head in his hands, but straightens up when he hears her footsteps. He holds his arms open and says, “C’mere.”

She breathes a sigh of relief and hugs him tightly.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he mumbles, voice hoarse.

She pulls back to look at him and brings her hands up to cup his cheeks. “Baby, you have nothin’ to apologize for. Let’s worry about you.”

She braces herself for the very difficult conversation they’re about to have. “Why haven’t you been takin’ your meds?”

He tenses up and immediately tries to look away but her grip remains firm. Finally, he sighs and closes his eyes. “I was on them after coming back from Qarac, just before Waller put me in charge of the squad. And uh, not gonna lie, the side effects were brutal.”

“So ya stopped taking ‘em.”

He nods. “I asked Dr. Parker to put me on something else but she won’t. So I just… haven’t been taking them.”

Harley rolls up on her toes so she can press her forehead to his, “Thank you for being honest with me. Now will you please let me fix this for ya? This was literally my job at one point.”

When he nods in response, she smiles and then grabs his hand—pulling him towards the living room. She gets him settled on the couch with his head in her lap and asks for his phone.

--------------------

Rick dissociates and focuses on the feeling of Harley’s fingers carding through his hair. He manages to catch bits and pieces of the conversation.

She starts out sounding professional. “Yes, I’d like to discuss a mutual patient with you, Rick Flag.” A pause and then, “Who am I? I’m his fuckin’ girlfriend, you d-bag, and you’re terrible at your job!”

He manages a small chuckle at her antics before another sudden loud bang makes him freeze up. The asshole neighbors have been setting off fireworks all damn day.

Harley pauses in her ranting to grab his hand and bring it to her lips for a gentle kiss. “Stay with me, baby.”

“That’s Dr. Quinzel to you, bitch,” she yells into the phone. “So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna take him off the meds he very clearly told ya he didn’t wanna be on, and you’re gonna prescribe these instead, and no, don’t argue with me.”

By the time she’s off the phone with his psychiatrist he’s half asleep and she seems to be in a much better mood. “How you doin’, hun?”

He doesn’t answer the question and instead tugs on her hand. “Come over here.”

She takes the hint and rearranges herself so she’s laying right on top of him. He wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck. The smell of her shampoo and her weight on his chest helps ground him. “I love you,” he mumbles.

She pulls back to smile at him. “I love ya too, baby.”

Baby. He likes when she calls him that. Before he can say anything about it though she’s kissing him. He deepens the kiss and snakes a hand up her back under her shirt.

As much as he would very much like this to progress further, exhaustion hits him like a freight train and Harley picks up on it. She boops his nose. “Get some sleep, hun. We can continue this later—I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

His eyes drift shut as another firework goes off—and this time he doesn’t even notice.

[affableramen]

Big spoon | Small spoon | Genshin Impact men | Wriothesley | Capitano | Neuvillette | Alhaitham | Dottore | Pantalone

Big spoon: Wriothesley, Capitano, Dottore

Little spoon: Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Pantalone

Wriothesley, Dottore and Capitano contain spicy parts.

Wriothesley

Big spoon. This man is anything but submissive. He is the one to start touching you at the intimate moment.

Wriothesley loves a good amount of physical touch. Be it a cold autumn evening or snowy winter night he’d very much like to have you pressed close. His muscular chest is so hot, it almost burns your skin, and you find yourself craving still more of his warmth.

You like the smell of bitter coffee mixed with leather coming from him. The rough, but passionate touches of his calloused from the fights hands.

Wriothesley has a habit of sleeping naked, and every inch of his hot burning skin is felt by you.

“Come here”, the duke doesn’t ask, he orders. You climb into the sheet and pull the blanket while staring at him expectantly. “Turn around.” When exposing your back to him, you feel hot breath blow against your hair. “You smell delicious.” He is not a beast, he doesn’t want you scared, so Wriothesley gently, gingerly snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest.

“You like that?”

“You certainly are very warm, my duke”, you respond playfully.

“Then we should cuddle more often.”

Capitano

Capitano is a big (in all ways) man, with big hands that are surprisingly very gentle to the touch. It is his bed routine to climb into the sheets and hold you close until the both of you drift away to sleep. His long obsidian hair tickles the sensitive skin of your back.

If Pantalone is a tsundere, trust me this man is even more tsundere. Cap is strict, reserved and collected, and it is usually an accident, a word slipped from his mouth that you hear a compliment. He is more a man of action. You know that he needs you because of his body language. He is very perceptive, he is wary of the world around him, and he is very good at physical touch. And that being said, the cuddles Capitano gives you are just perfect. They are full of heat, passion and affection, of course.

He has a habit of sleeping naked, so you are aware of every part of his body touching you even if this was not his intention in the slightest.

“Hmph…” he grunts. “Don’t move too much.”

You giggle to yourself, knowing damn well that he is already flustered. And you are flustered too.

Neuvillette

Monsieur Neuvillette is a solitary and private person. It’s rare that he gives out affection. But with you, he is ready to put some efforts into a sustainable relationship. However he is a small spoon. He is too shy, too reserved and too introverted to hug you first. And let’s be honest - he is quite used to you being the one who initiates activities.

The morning and night cuddles are very important for monsieur Neuvillette. He might even think that something is wrong between you if you do not snake your arms around him in the bed. He is very aware of your moods and reaction, and he memorises things about you quite often.

Being a little spoon Neuvillette likes the feeling of your proximity. The hands that wrap around his waist, given the height difference between you. He likes sensing your breath on him through the fabric of nightwear. You touch him incredibly gently and he responds with equal gingerly stroke over your fingers.

“It feels nice”, he says quietly, embarrassed admitting. “Would you have objections to falling asleep like this every night?”

He is very soft.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is a small spoon. But not because of submissiveness, rather of his cold, detached nature. He was grown by his grandmother and grew up surrounded by books. He knows nothing of good doze of affection. And you were the one who taught him that.

Alhaitham is not touchy-feely, he prefers his inner world and intuition above everything else. That being said, he will pull you into deep physiological conversations quite often. But you are the one who makes him grounded. You bring him back into the reality with your soft hands.

As the two of you lie in bed before sleep, you spot him reading his book as usual. You gently remove the book from his fingers, getting a surprising reaction on his face.

“Oh?”

“Let’s cuddle”, you do not let him finish the sentence. “I’m feeling lonely tonight, while you are one muscular man in my bed.”

“Don’t beat around the bush. What do you want?” He asks, his tone not rough, but irritated.

You slowly snake your arms around him, and Alhaitham lets a quiet huff of satisfaction.

“Don’t need to be so gentle, I’m not a porcelain doll. Hug me tighter.” Unlike his usual attitude, he asks you.

You do just as he says, your chest flush to his back as you wrap your hands around his chest, and your legs around his hips.

“This is not better than the book I rejected, but pleasant still.”

You playfully push him.

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Fine, fine. Just tonight, I’ll be yours.”

Dottore

Big spoon. When is in love, he is a yandere. He will pull you to his chest as tight as possible and will not let you go. He will make sure you are his. Dottore will bite your ear, sucking the wounded area gently as his hands roam over your shoulders, stomach and hips. This man is entirely touch-starved and with you he wants to compensate the pleasures he denied himself in due to his tough scholar responsibilities.

The faint scent of mint is coming from him. You love it when he is close. He always smells refreshing. Though Dottore is not one to be soft with words, and his declarations of love are often blunt, the softness in his night touch when the both of you prepare to sleep, tells a different story. You love the subtly feeling of him being vulnerable when you’re in private.

“What, are you cold?” Dottore asks half-mockingly, noticing your goosebumps.

“It’s getting freezing in the evening.”

“Is this body alone not enough to heat you?” He whispers into your ear and then, what seems to be gently, takes your hand in his.

“My, you are freezing indeed. My apologies.”

Dottore grabs the edge of the duvet and pulls it up, the biggest part of it on your body.

It’s incredibly difficult for him to conduct his emotions properly, and you understand it perfectly. You do not ask for more. He genuinely wants you in comfort, otherwise his indifferent nature wouldn’t even bother.

Pantalone

This old man is a little spoon. You should never expect open attraction from him, especially the physical touch. He won’t reach out to press you close to his chest. No, no, no… He is both lazy and cold for it. A banker that is nearing menopause is expected to be nothing but an incredibly aloof and grumpy bastard. Even to his lover, his heart will melt only after considerable amount of time, that is if you’re lucky enough.

However, when he finally gives in, pushes away all his righteousness and indifference, he becomes a very soft old man. As the two of you lie in the bed prepared for sleep, he suddenly breaks the tranquil silence with his velvety, sultry voice.

“Hug me.” You find yourself dumbfounded. “I said, hug me”, Pantalone repeats. “Please”, he says quieter. You wrap your hands around his waist gently, listening to his calm, gentle breath. Judging by the movement of his body and a pleased sigh coming from his lips, he enjoys such intimate proximity with you immensely. He pulls the fuzzy blanket over the both of you, so afraid that his cold fingers might disturb you.

“Didn’t know you were the little spoon”, you say, happy with how things are. Pantalone responds with a grunt, obviously irritated or, perhaps embarrassed?

“No… Just sleep already.”

This is such a tsundere thing of him to say.

Yes, Pantalone’s definitely a small spoon.

[tojisrealwifey]

Crybaby — f. toji (pt. 1)

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: When you realize your husband might still be hung up on his ex-wife.

・❥・requests : rules

・❥・characters: fushiguro toji.

warnings: mdni, 18+, kind of angsty, smut, degrotary terms (slut, bitch), saying the wrong name (whoopsy), drunk sex, very very very slight anal penetration, you are megumi's step mom, age gap, Toji's ex-wife's name is Rei, half-assed proofreading.

・❥・wc: 2.1k

・❥・masterlist

・❥・crybaby masterlist

Your ears rang with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the bustling of the crowd. Your arm circled your husband's as you walked through the festival.

The event was coming to an end, which called for everyone to gather for the fireworks. You excitedly made your way to the benches with Toji in tow.

You were surprisingly quick, even with your kimono weighing you down. You were not one to dress up for festivals but you had just wanted to look and feel pretty for your husband today.

You were having the best day. Your mouth was still burning from the spicy yakisoba you had slurped up earlier, so you were delighted when Toji handed you a plate of dango for the two of you to enjoy.

Settling yourself down on one of the stair benches, Toji takes the now empty plate away and sets it down beside him. 

You hug his arm close, leaning and nuzzling into him. A hummed slightly, feeling content with the evening.

It wasn't long before the first firework exploded into life. The sparks fly as if they defy gravity with the subtle deafening ringing they bring.

The colors of each firework erupt into intricate shapes, sweeping the crowd in their wonder.

You couldn't look away at the beginning, not risking to miss the sight. But after a while had the urge to make a comment on the fireworks.

You turn to look at Toji, only, his sight isn't parallel to yours. His thin lips held a smile as his eyes were trained on someone else.

A woman sitting way ahead at the front. She was cheering with her friends, the radiant light displayed on her skin. The muscles of your cheeks twitch, not being able to stop the frown from embedding itself.

You felt the uneasiness bubble in your stomach when your eyes ghosted over her features.

Your chest felt heavy, not really knowing why. Sure, he was looking at another woman, doesn't mean he likes her, right?

He is just admiring something else, there's nothing wrong with that. You do so too, it isn't really a big deal.

No need to make it a big deal.

Goosebumps spread across your body, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden.

The fireworks show was over, yet, his eyes hadn't left her, and yours hadn't left him.

You softly shake his arm making him look at you, and seeing your glum face made him concerned, not that he showed it.

"You okay?" He asked plainly.

"My stomach's upset, I don't think the dango was prepared well."

"Oh? I feel fine though. Sure it wasn't something you ate before the festival?" He asks, taking his arm out of your hold and touching your back.

"Could be. Can we leave? I think I just need to sleep it off."

"Sure, let's go." He stands up, taking your hand in his as the two of you start walking away.

You take one last look at the woman he was staring at, making sure your eyes weren't deceiving you.

And your heartbeat only faltered noticing her uncanny resemblance to Toji's ex-wife.

Toji sat on the couch enjoying the music playing on TV as you took a bath. It had become a custom.

Despite the fact you took longer to clean yourself up, you would always shower before him.

It used to be the other way around when you first moved in together, but while Toji would be in the bath you would end up falling asleep, Toji not having it in his heart to wake you.

So he insisted that you shower before him while he could catch up on other things.

Like right now, getting daily updates from Megumi.

"Where's mom? I want to say good night to her as well." Megumi's voice comes through from the phone. 

"She's in the shower. How was college today?"

"Good. Tired though."

"Then sleep ya lil' shit."

"Not before I talk to Ma."

Toji grumbles.

"She just went, it might be a while."

"I'll wait."

You on the other hand were scrubbing every part of your body with a subtle harshness. The stinging cold water rained on you, the coolness calming the overwhelming thoughts of your brain.

This wasn't something that bothered you usually.

You loved your relationship with Toji, and you loved him. You loved Megumi as if he were your own blood.

Yet there was always something off, something uneasy that always radiated off of Toji.

And you knew why.

You always enjoyed the stories Toji would share about his past, Rei, and baby Megumi. Listening happily to him describing the husband and father he was before you came in.

You loved listening about Toji's last wife because you liked the small twinkle in his eyes, and how a smile would form on the usually stoic Megumi's face.

You understood and accepted the love he had for her. And you knew if she hadn't succumbed to her illness, the three of them would be a happy family.

And you wouldn't be here.

You had an unspeakable amount of respect for the late Rei, but just sometimes you wished it wasn't like this.

Because you would catch Toji trying to remind himself that she's not here anymore, and it's the most heartbreaking thing.

It was the first time the 12-year-old Megumi accidentally called you 'Mom' and you remembered catching Toji's crestfallen face from your peripheral vision. 

It had only been 2 years into this relationship, so you were caught off guard when Megumi did so.

You were really happy, but catching the look on Toji's face made your head fill with doubt.

4 years after your relationship, Toji finally got on one knee. So why did he hesitate before slipping the ring on your finger?

You still remember your third date with this man. It was a month after you both met and had invited him home for dinner.

He had declined but later changed his mind. Despite his dislike for alcohol, you both shared a few cups of wine.

Wine lead to dinner...dinner lead to more wine...and wine lead to talks. During your conversation, he had let it slip that his ex-wife had died 3 years ago today.

And before you knew it, he was moaning her name as he fucked you.

Your face was pressed into the pillow, letting out guttural moans at Toji's thrusts. You could feel the veins of cock against your walls, and your eyes rolled back, never having experienced something like this before.

"Ngh~ Yes! Please don't stop!"

"F-fuck you like this bitch?" 

He gives you a harsh spank, making you stick out your ass more and push against him. He suddenly halts, and his strong hold on you means you stopped too.

You manage to crane your neck and look back at him, taking note of his dazed look.

His face was pink and he looked completely out of it, and you couldn't tell if he was drunk on wine or your pussy.

His fingers brushed against your virgin entrance. Your breath hitched when he put pressure against the muscle.

"Relax. Had anything here before?" He asks, bringing his hand to his mouth and spitting on it.

"N-no..."

"Thought so." His wet fingers smoothed over your hole, simultaneously slipping his cock out, making you whine.

He crouches down, bringing his lips to where his fingers were, giving you a slow lick. 

You flinch at the foreign touch.

"Toji~" Your voice sounded like you were crying.

"Shhh, won't do much, baby. Just enjoy this." His tongue finally pressed against you, your hole flexing against him.

His tongue pushed in slowly making you move away from him from embarrassment.

"I can't Toji... 's too much!" You cried against the pillow.

His hands engulf your body, holding you close.

"Shhhhh...it's okay. She liked it too, so you'll learn for me, okay?" He slurs.

There was a flicker of discomfort from his words, but before you could question it, his cock was in you.

His thrusts were faster than before, hands working your chest as they painfully pinch your nipples.

"Hngg! R-right there! There! Toji!~"

"Such a fucking slut. Taking a cock that's too big for her. You're squeezing me out of you, nasty bitch."

"Fuuckkk~ Please! Please! I'm s-so close- Ahh!" 

Never had you had anything so deep within you before, your body absorbing every bit of pleasure that this man could give you.

"Yeah? Gon' cum f'me? Fuck cum baby. Wanna feel your pussy cum on me."

Toji's hand leaves your chest and finds your chin. He cups your face and brings you close to him, lips on your cheek as he grunts in your ear.

Your vision goes blank and you can hardly process Toji's moaning.

"You're so good Rei. So fuckin' proud of my wife. Clenching me so good. Gonna give you another baby, yea? Want my cum Rei?"

And you stupidly nod during your high, blatantly ignoring his calls for his ex-wife.

"Want your cum! Please Toji!"

You gasp out desperately. His hands find your hair, and he is once again pressing your face into the mattress.

Your body is shivering as you leave the shower, hand desperately wiping your face to soothe your red face.

Chewing on your lip, you sat on the bed contemplating your decisions up until now.

Did you make a mistake?

You did, didn't you?

You remember that night, just how pathetic you felt when you came to your senses. 

There had been a slight ringing in your ear after the session. You would joke in your mind that it was a siren, warning you of this budding 'relationship'.

Toji had made you feel a satisfaction like no other, yet it had left you feeling a sense of malaise.

Neither of you addressed it the morning after. You wanted to say something but were unsure if he had retained any memory from the night before.

So you let it go, just giving an excuse like 'he was grieving' or 'we're not even official, it's fine' and 'we were both too drunk'.

And something like that never happened again, but you still can't help but think if every time you both get intimate, is it really just you on his mind?

Toji is caught off guard when he enters the room, the concern now evident on his face. 

You had been behaving distant since the end of the festival, but seeing you spaced out, sitting at the edge of the bed with only a towel around you as your nails worked to peel off the chapped skin of your lips, something was very wrong here.

"You chill, babe?" Toji asks, Megumi still on video call.

You don't even flinch when you hear his voice. You just simply stop picking at your lips, look up, and smile sweetly at your husband.

"Mhm...just worrying about Megumi." You lie.

"Well, he's on call, waiting for you."

"Oh! Gimme!" You stand up quickly, pretending as if there's nothing wrong as you snatch his phone.

Seeing Megumi's.....your son's.....face lifted your heavy heart. You walk to the right side of the bed and settle yourself on the floor, back supported by the bed.

You look back once more, smiling at Toji.

"You should take a shower. And be quick, or I might just fall asleep before you." You grin before turning your attention to your...son.

Thinking of Megumi as your son had started to feel uneasy, especially in front of Toji.

"Hi, baby! How are the dorms? Have you been attending all your lectures? You shouldn't miss any." You start.

"Yes Ma, I have. They are interesting but the teachers are old and boring." You let out a giggle at his response. As you speak, you hear the showers turn on.

"You know, you can skip a few lectures here and there, just don't let it affect your credits. I won't tell your father."

"I heard that!" Toji's voice is muffled yet his words are clear, clear enough to reach Megumi. 

You and Megumi let out a chuckle at this.

"Yeah yeah." Megumi lets out a yawn and you 'aw' at the sight.

"Go to sleep, honey. It's late." You say, secretly hoping to end the call early.

"Mhm, I'll talk tomorrow, Ma."

"Sure. Night baby. Muahh!" You lean forward to give an audible peck on the camera.

"Good night." Megumi smiles subtly at your actions before hanging up the call.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

You stand up from your seat on the floor, placing Toji's phone on the nightstand.

Walking towards the bathroom, you drop the towel on the floor and open the door.

From the looks of it, Toji had just finished cleaning his hair. So, without wasting time you crept up behind him.

Your hands find his back, slowly smoothing them over to the front. Toji had seen you enter so he wasn't surprised by your touch.

Your right hand that settled on his chest was now trailing lower and lower. Toji watched your hand intently, his eyebrows furrowing.

Just before your hand touched him, he had intercepted your trail by clutching your wrist in his hand.

He turned around, your wrist in his hold as he looked at you with a confused glare.

"Why are your hands shaking?" 

[huboi]

. SOFTY | 🎀

╰┈➤ summary; jjk men being big softies for you <3

╰┈➤ includes; gn! reader, possibly ooc characters, pure heart melting fluff, mentions of eating and drinking

╰┈➤ a/n; yes I’m aware I haven’t posted in years, I’ve been in a writers block for so long bro😭

GOJO SATORU

man’s already a huge softie, very smitten with you

even before you started dating he was all over you like an overexcited puppy when it’s owner comes back from work

when you guys started dating, nothing really changed

read as; gojo somehow managed to become even more clingy

LOVES PDA

dw tho, if you don’t like pda then he’ll respect that, as long as you guys can cuddle when you’re in private he won’t complain

if you are comfortable with PDA, prepare to hold hands 25/8

also he loves cuddles

kisses are a huge must, wether they’re short and sweet or long and spicy

GETO SUGURU

he doesn’t act very happy when you’re not around

only time when he’s happy when you’re not around is if his girls are there

when he comes back from his shenanigans he just snuggles you

will keep cuddling you even if you need the toilet

“suguru im gonna piss myself istg” “no you’re not”

even though you are a sorcerer, he wishes to keep you away from his sorcerer shenanigans

he doesn’t want you seeing his ‘ugly side’ to say the least

it’s as if a switch goes off in his brain when you come into the picture

“I will kill every non sorcerer there is😡😡😡” “hi sugu poo😙” “hi baby🥰🥰🥰”

KENTO NANAMI

he’s a serious guy, and so when he sees you, he just low key switches personalities for a sec

“hi honey, you ok? have you eaten, drank some water….” he tends to ask you these questions a lot, but dw he’s just concerned for your health

no PDA, the closest you’ll convince him to do is hand holding

in the privacy of your home, he’s a huge snuggle bug (you didn’t hear this from me)

loves kissing your face, he doesn’t know why, it just comforts him

one time you interrupted his time with yuji, giving him his lunch as he forgot it, and he, surprisingly, ended up kissing you on the cheek

yuji was stunned (the boy was too stunned to speak)

SUKUNA RYOMEN

when people think of the sukuna, they think of homicide, murder and all things negative

what people don’t see, is that when his s/o wants a certain food, he’ll get them they’re food no matter the cost

doesn’t matter if you want something fancy or simple, he’s gonna get it (you have to plead with him to not kill anyone)

no promises though (he ends up simply paying for it)

low key begs you for hugs, when you point this out he claims he ‘demands’ you for hugs and that he never begs… yeah right

you are the most protected person out there, sorcerer or not

you claim he reminds you of a tiger, but he acts like a simple house cat when you’re in the picture

he disagrees with a huff and arms crossed against his (phat titties) chest

you notice a slight blush on his cheeks, but you don’t say anything

© content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

[withloveajaxx]

so baby let's keep this secret

𓂅 genre: modern! childe, scara, al haitham, xiao x gn! reader

𓂅 warnings: hints of making out in scara's part + childe's part is a hint of suggestive teasing

𓂅 summary: secret relationship with the genshin boys

𓂅 note: this is my first time writing for scara and haitham so,,, apologies if i mischaracterize them or they seem out of character :"D comments on their characterization are greatly appreciated ^^ but yea, that's it hehe, hope u enjoy this fic n have a wonderful day!!

CHILDE

tbf a secret relationship with childe isn't a secret to anyone at all because mans is whipped for you, but we gotta give him some credit for holding himself back from kissing you 24/7.

a "secret" relationship with this man is basically minimalized pda with a huge amount of teasing.

he absolutely loves to be the sole reason why your cheeks get red and you get all flustered in public.

when people ask you what's wrong and you can barely get out a blatant lie, childe already has a smug, yet somehow charming smirk on his face.

he's not good at hiding how whipped he is, but he does surprisingly well hiding his touches from the general eye of the public.

like whenever he's in a restaurant with you, he always makes it a point to sit beside you. he is never sitting anywhere else.

secondly, his hand is always on your thigh or fiddling with your fingers beneath the table. he simply cannot resist touching you in any way.

and finally, if he's being a little bitch… he'll slyly sneak an arm around your waist, squeezing it gently. i can bet my life he's lifting your shirt up slightly to rub your exposed skin to get you all bothered.

he's absolutely ravishing you when you get home though. spoiling you with kisses, cuddles, and anything you ask from him <3

ngl, with how touchy feely he is, i don't think people are gonna take that long to figure out what's going on between you two. the "secret" relationship is unfortunately a 5/10 in terms of success.

SCARAMOUCHE

you cannot tell me this man wouldn't take your relationship to his grave. 10/10 in this secret relationship 💀

unlike childe, he can keep his eyes and his hands off of you in public. he has a lot of self control and no amount of your teasing is going to get him to expose you guys (unless you pull out the tears or some begging then maybe). but like childe… he is absolutely obsessed with you when yall have a little private time.

this is where it gets spicy but i can just imagine scaramouche just reaching his limit from holding himself back from you after a long day, and he's just ready to break when you two are behind closed doors.

after all, he is a man of little patience isn't he? when you two get to his place after a long day, he doesn't even wait for a split second until his lips are slotting themselves against yours for a heated kiss.

he has you pinned against the wall beside the door, one elbow beside your head while the other slides down to rest on your hips.

when he parts the fairly passionate kiss his lips are still hovering dangerously close to yours. he doesn't even take that long to catch his breath, diving in for another kiss until he hears abrupt knocks at his door, and a voice he knows distinctly belonging to childe.

cursing under his breath, he holds a hand over your mouth, making sure you're hidden from the direct line of sight of the door before opening it to reveal the ginger headed man.

"make it quick, dimwit. i was in the middle of doing something," scara hisses venemously, eyes narrowing at childe. poor childe chuckles in nervouseness, scratching the back of his neck. "is that so? sorry, didn't know, maybe i'll come back later."

"yeah, whatever. just scram." and with that, the door is slammed closed and sacra's undivided attention is back on you again.

"c'mon," is all he says, taking your hand in his before leading you to a more secluded space in his apartment where no one and nothing can interrupt him from having his time with you.

ALHAITHAM

i think he'd be pretty good at keeping things lowkey. he acts the same towards everyone with some exceptions to you, so i'd say 10/10.

definitely not touchy in public (nor in private to be honest), but he's definitely into the little moments.

little moments like making eye contact from across the room and sending you the slightest hints of a smile.

or even grazing your pinkies together when your walking side-by-side in thr middle of the campus hallways.

there are bits of physical affection here and there, but the main thing that gives this man away is the quality time and acts of services that he does towards you.

hatiham doesn't spend nearly as much time with others as he does with you. you're always with him whether it be in the library studying, in a coffee shop while he reads a book, or in museums looking around and scuptures and paintings.

it's especially in crowded places like museums and coffee shops where he does small actions of adoration and affection.

like when you guys go on study or book dates, you'll feel his eyes on you when you're trying to write something down or read something.

when you look at him to ask you what's wrong, he's simply staring at you with a soft expression that screams nothing but admiration and love. it's quite endearing really, to see his ears turn the lightest shade of pink afterwards.

"do you need something, haitham?" you ask, the smile he loves so much gracing your features. he gently shakes his head, reaching his hand out on the table to take yours, "no. nothing. i was just admiring you, is all."

XIAO

there's a constant redness of his usually pale cheeks is a dead giveaway to your relationship, and he's pretty protective too so i'd say a 6/10.

whenever you catch xiao staring at you, his cheeks and the tips of his ears immediately burn red, and he whips his head around so fast.

people always notice and his friends always tease him for it, but he can't help such a reaction when what he thinks is the most stunning person is looking right at him.

or whenever he looks around the room to search for you only to find that you're already looking at him… his cheeks are literally on fire.

the adorable glow on his cheeks isn't the only sign he gives though. mind you, this man is very protective over you.

he wants to make sure that absolutely no harm comes in your way, and he'll do anything to make sure of that. he doesn't care if your relationship would be exposed that way, all he cares about is your overall safety and wellbeing.

he's the type of man who pulls you closer to him while you're crossing the street or walking by the road, having his hand on you in some way in case anything happens.

the type of guy who brings random stuff like bandaids, hair ties, and sweets for you just in case you need anything.

he's also constantly asking how you are through text, just in case you need him to do something or in case you need him by your side for whatever reason.

my favourite part about secret relationships with xiao is the kind of dates you'd have. he's definitely the type of man to do homey, indoor dates. he'd build lego bouquets for and with you, he's sit for hours bingeing movies or series you like, relax and read a book with you, or even just nap and cuddle. even though your dates are mostly at home to keep away from the prying eyes of others, he's sure to make it something you'll always love and never regret.

© withloveajaxx 2022. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.

[sincerelywhistler]

Freelancer!

More headcanons (ft. Gavin) under the cut!

^ and a Pinterest board bc I have a problem

- Hux calls them Skipper

- Matching heart hip tattoos w/ my Gav design & dyed the tips of their hair pink to match as well teehee

- Can get pretty nasty academic burnout and bouts of executive dysfunction

- Boba shop employee

- A dancer! Has a tiktok where they post choreo clips to and throwing it down to whatever songs are trending

- Big softy. So!! Cuddly!! World cold and harsh, Freelancer’s arms so warm and safe

- Gay awakening was Danny Phantom

- Chronic “lol” user while texting, and it gets on Damien’s nerves because nothing is even “lol” worthy about making dinner plans so STOP ENDING YOUR SENTENCES WITH LOL WHATS SO FUNNY BRO

- Filipino 🇵��

- Spicy foods = best foods. If their organs aren’t melting from the inside out then what’s the point??

- Pokémon sweat tbh

- Dr. Pepper addict

- Coffee hater, but they’ll drink it anyway if they’re desperate enough. They call it “dirty bean water” which both confuses and delights Gavin immensely

- Gave Gav a pair of cat ear headphones for the holidays, but they lowkey like how they look on him a lil too much so… that’s a pandora’s box situation for another day

- So many stupid and silly bumper stickers on their car (“Please don’t watch me park, I have performance anxiety”, “I break for roly-pollies”, etc.)

- Their favorite book genre is fanfiction on AO3

- Thus, shamelessly, they get some of their best ideas of how to rock Gavin’s world from smut fics

- Calls Gavin “playboy” when they’re being suggestive ;)

- Half of their paycheck would go to DoorDash if they got their way

- Has that natural aura where everyone can’t really help but crush on them a bit

- Lets Gavin change out their dexcom <3

- Has a collection of fun tape and/or transmitter stickers for said dexcom

- California born and raised

- If there is a DAMN rowing crew, they’re on it. Was quite exceptional on their high school team

- Can surprisingly be an efficient morning person (unless there’s a pretty incubus curled up at their side, then you’re playing by Cat Rules. Can’t move until the cat does first)

- Scared of heights, you’ll never find their ass on an airplane

vibe check Miles and take a peek at their pin board

[sgiddings]

hello friends and fans! (let's try that again) here's some spicy jossam headcanons before kinktober ends hehe :3

josh has some pretty intense - let's just say - fantasies. even prior to officially (finally) getting into a relationship with sam, he'd always dream, and daydream. to say a part of that didn't play into what he put sam through that night would be an outright lie. sam hiding while he searched around for her only elevated the excitement for him, getting to talk to her like that was one of his fantasies realised.

which leads into the aspect of roleplay between them, josh collects horror paraphernalia, and that of course comes with a ghostface costume. almost every horror aficionado has one and josh is not an exception to the rule. sam can work up a sweat and josh can haul her over his shoulder in one swoop, it's kind of hard for sam not to giggle when he does so since their comparison in size is such a stark difference, but just because she's tiny doesn't mean she can't throw the punches, and josh loves to see her put up a "fight".

when it comes to intimacy in general josh doesn't really have many notches under his belt, maybe one or two fumbles in the dark just to have it in the back of his mind that he's had the experience (even though he desperately wanted it to be with someone else, and we all know who that person is). intimacy with anyone else but her was difficult for him, and awkward. people never to be seen again. sam had always been under the impression it would've been plenty more despite the fact he'd never had a partner before or ever spoke of having one, and information like that would've been something that'd be mentioned in passing. they told each other almost everything, they couldn't really hide their goings-on well from one another. sam, surprisingly to josh, was the virgin between the two. she always had secretly wanted her first time to have been with him, and she was glad she'd waited it out and had rejected the advances of others.

their first time is sweet, passionate, emotional and a touch desperate. sam's scared that it's going to hurt - but josh makes sure to cater to her every beck and call, her every need. it doesn't need to be something rough and unaccommodating, he takes his time with her, and takes things at her pace, all josh ever wants is her pleasure and satisfaction, nothing else matters. he kisses her as if he'll blink and she'll vanish, he kisses her with an unspoken plead behind them - please don't leave me. i love you. there is an urgency due to how long they both have wanted this, but simultaneously they have all the time in the world for one another. tears are shed - their love runs so deep that they can't help but cry that first time.

he always makes sure that sam comes first, it's a rule that he lives by and not once has he failed, nor does he plan to. he has determination like no other.

josh is good with his hands, and knows how to tie a rope exceptionally well. shibari is an art form that has always fascinated him, so why not try it out with his girlfriend? at first sam wasn't so sure about it, there were so many knots to be made in the ropes and she wasn't too certain that rope digging into her bare flesh would be that great a time, but she was willing to hear josh out and try anything with him once - within reason, of course. in the beginning it's a little claustrophobic, but she eases into it, and the way josh calls her his little rope bunny is enough to burn her cheeks - forget the rope burn. when his voice drops an octave and he's talking to her like that, her whole body is alight.

absolutely no one is surprised when sam's sporting a new hickey, mark, bruise, whatever. josh likes to mark his territory and make it a point to show off to the world that sam is his girlfriend. sam bites back, she sure as hell can litter him with marks and josh gets off on it, whether it's him leaving marks on her or her leaving marks on him. she's equally as territorial about him, and that's the way they both like it. a mutual obsession with one another, an all consuming love.

sam has a thing about josh's hands, he catches her staring at them all the time; staring at them when he's working at something, staring at them while he's drumming his fingers against the kitchen counter. she can't help but reach for them during intimacy, without so much as a thought, kissing and sucking at his fingers with her mouth, so gently and sensually that it drives josh to insanity.

in comparison to their entire friend group, they are by far the "freakiest" couple. they don't have to know the particulars, that stays between josh and sam, but that doesn't stop the girls from hounding sam. emily tells sam that if she needs handcuffs to borrow, she's got just the set for her - to which sam flushes pink all over. handcuffs are too tame for them, but again, their friends don't need to know that. sam and josh aren't particularly open about what they do, either, but the imaginations of their friends run rampant whenever there's new hickeys and marks to be spotted.

matching halloween costumes always results in them having a bit of roleplaying fun.

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - Positions

(Warning - NSFW!)

{Thank you BugBiteWrites on AO3 for the inspiration!}

The Papas love to fuck! But Lucifer knows they have their own style… (my HCs of the Papas’ favorite sex positions and other sex preference HCs)

Primo

Loves cowgirl - he’s old and kinda frail (but still surprisingly strong somehow), so this is the most comfy for him

Has a strong grip on your hips as he helps you grind on his lap

Spooning - wants to lay on his side and slowly fuck you before bedtime

Very into cockwarming. Wants you to sit in his lap and will calmly scold you if you disobey and try to fuck him (“Now caro/cara we talked about this, mm?”)

Content not to orgasm himself, and takes pleasure in teasing you or getting you off

Takes his time with foreplay, knowing your orgasm will be much more powerful that way

Definitely a pleasure dom

Secondo

Fucks you from behind so he can push your head into the mattress and use your body as an anchor

Also into cockwarming (as a punishment) and will leave you high and dry in the room if you disobey him by trying to fuck him

Loves throatfucking you

Loves cowgirl but will pummel you from below

Mostly a dom. Once in a blue moon he likes to be commanded

Total brat tamer, but don’t test him because he’s not afraid to forgo his own pleasure to teach you a lesson

Loves edging you with a vibrator or his hand, laying on the bed with your back against his chest while he reaches around to your front

Most of the foreplay happens in his lap, with his hands exploring all over you

Will overstimulate you because he loves watching you squirm and be powerless

Takes aftercare very seriously if he fucked you rough, or if you just look like you need it

Terzo

Doggystyle - wants to see your ass in the air so he can spank it and watch it jiggle

Also wants to get pegged or topped in doggystyle

Any position where he can go deeper and feel bigger

Spooning for when he’s lazy so he can reach around to your front and stimulate you further

Avoids face-to-face positions in his casual encounters because he has a fear of intimacy and that feels way too personal

When he’s in love, however, he wants to face you so he can watch your body react to him. He’ll watch your face contort in passion, getting off on just how good he can make you feel and he’ll study your body’s reactions so he knows just what to do to get you off

Likes to switch positions a lot to keep things spicy

Making sure you cum together is a goal of his

Not a brat tamer because he IS a brat

Very into trying new and complicated sex positions; has several copies of the Kama Sutra

Copia

Laying on your sides facing each other so he can look into your eyes and whisper sweet nothings to you

LOVES missionary; he doesn’t care if people think it’s overrated

He just wants to look you in the eyes when you cum

Definitely cries after sex

Whiny and needy; wants to be held and comforted and likes having his hair stroked while laying against your chest

Prefers to only have sex with someone he cares about but he’s had a couple of flings before

Says “I love you” when he cums

Wants you to eat his ass from behind so he can feel vulnerable and exposed, knowing you’ll take good care of him

Always wants snacks after fucking and chugs a whole glass of water or a Juicy Juice box immediately after. In fact, he usually leaves water on his nightstand for this (he chugs water after masturbating too)

Nihil

Car sex - let’s face it, he’s had a lot of practice back in the day

Whatever it is, he wants it to be rough and quick

Usually fucks against something - wall, desk, couch, …toilet (he’s definitely fucked while on the toilet - don’t lie, you’ve seen the photo, you were thinking it too)

Likes reverse cowgirl so he can see your ass jiggle

Likes motorboating

[xxnashiraxx]

Pairing: Astarion/f!Tav ~ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia) Word Count: 6,774 Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Inappropriate Use of the Tadpole, PiV Sex, Riding, Oral (Female & Male Receiving), Fingering, Masturbation, Slight BDSM, Restraints, Gagged, Blindfold, Melted Candle Wax, +Some Soft Astarion, Porn Without Plot, Slight Fluff, Biting Summary: Ofelia's mundane evening is interrupted by a certain vampire utilizing the tadpole to entice her to his tent during dinner. She takes the bait, ending up biting off more than she chew... literally. ˖ A fun, all porn no plot oneshot featuring Astarion and my longfic main character, Ofelia set during Act 3 but completely separate from the main fic!

divider here 🩸

AO3 | Song Reference: No One Like You - Scorpions

Ahh, the final installment is here!! These were all so fun to write!!! I had such a blast making these this month- it made for some great practice for the main fic, and also helped me explore their dynamics for once they're in a more trusting and happy place later on in the story! ❤ This was seriously such a fun time- I couldn't have done it without the encouragement and inspiration from some of the coolest and most talented people (@khywren, @pinkberrytea, & @verbenaa to name just a few!)

Now, please enjoy this one- it's a bit shorter than the others (for my sanity). It'll be back to my regularly scheduled programming of With Stars to Fill My Dream updates after this, and look forward to a fun one-shot for Christmas where Ofelia shares the tradition with her companions! ❤ (Spicy art WIP for a scene in this fic at the end!)

Tags: @zozoparsnips ❤

Prompt 1 | Prompt 2 | Masterlist

Girl, there are really no words strong enough,

To describe all my longing for love.

I don’t want my feelings restrained.

Oh, babe,

I just need you like never before,

Just imagine you’d come through this door,

You’d take all my sorrow away,

***

Ofelia stares into her soup, slightly groggy.

The day had been long, full of fighting through a disgusting sewer looking for Jaheira’s old comrade- who turned out to be surprisingly nice, but it was still a sewer. Ugh. The bath she’d taken still didn’t feel like enough. Despite everything, her companions manage to find entertainment in the form of Scratch performing tricks to which they happily clap and cheer in their little camp beside the harbor.

“Is it not to your tastes?” Gale murmurs, hushed tones doing nothing to mask his question from the others around the campfire. She smiles softly, stirring the clear broth and noodles.

“No, it’s really good… I’m just a little tired from the day.” He offers her an understanding smile before Karlach knocks into him from behind in her bid to have Scratch chase the ball she holds aloft.

Ofelia pushes her utensil around the bowl, mind wandering to their resident vampire as vague loneliness distracts her from truly joining the others. Astarion had gone to his tent long before dinner was served and with a chaste kiss, he left her beside the fire, a glimmer to his eyes and a lingering touch on her shoulder. She had wondered if he wanted her to join him, but she hadn’t been sure. Usually, he’d just ask—this time he didn’t. So she’s stayed, catching herself almost falling face-first into her food a few times.

As the rest gather closer to the campfire, listening to Jaheira and Minsc tell stories of their old adventures, Ofelia starts to feel it. It begins as a tingle in her belly and a gentle onset of warmth that unfolds over her face and abdomen, making her feel overheated and flustered. At first, she blames the broth, wondering if she’s starting to get sick until the sensation settles between her thighs and she inhales sharply.

“Ofelia? Is everything alright?” Shadowheart asks, but Ofelia doesn’t reply. Her heart starts to race, sweat breaking over the back of her neck, and she shifts in her seat to stifle the feeling but it’s no use. An ache, stunning in its force, unfolds below and she sets her bowl down on the ground with shaking hands. The tadpole chitters in her skull- a familiar throb beginning at her temples and she instantly knows what’s happening.

She feels him, his motions, the air puffing through his flared nostrils as his teeth anchor over his rolled-up shirt, long, deft fingers palming the hard bulge over his pants. She feels it as if she is him and she tenses when he unties the laces and lets his cock spring free as a quiet sigh of relief pours from his lips.

“U-uh yeah…” Ofelia looks up at Shadowheart, eyes misty and cheeks red. The half-elf frowns, holding the back of her hand over her forehead, and Ofelia jumps at the contact.

“You’re feeling a little warm…” Shadowheart continues, but Ofelia’s lost in the feeling of Astarion finally stroking himself, she can feel his stomach tightening and his fangs digging through the fabric into his lower lip as he holds back a soft moan. Sensations build across her skin, her forehead feverish and her mouth dry. She shifts on the log, holding back a soft whine as heat pools between her legs and the feeling of him swiping his thumb over the wetness gathering at the tip lights her nerves on fire.

She feels him set a slow pace, driving himself mad at the gentle rocking of his hips as he fucks his hand. Ofelia bites her cheek hard, eyes squinting shut as the sensations of relief clash with her unrestrained desire- frustration causing her to twitch and dig her nails into her arms. She tries to reach out, but there’s a strange wall up between them keeping her strictly in receiving territory.

“Ofelia…” The blunt edges of her teeth almost cut the tip of her tongue off when her jaw snaps shut. His voice in her mind, chanting her name, is the gavel that seals her fate. She fights the urge to make a sound of discomfort, more of his pleasant sighs ringing in her ears as she stands abruptly.

“I… don’t feel well. I think I’m going to lie down.” She says through gritted teeth as Astarion quickens the pace of his movements, her body flooding with a rush of heat that spreads from her core outward. Shadowheart looks vaguely troubled, as do the rest who’d looked up at the quiet commotion, but no one interjects. Ofelia manages to slip away, thanking whatever gods that Astarion had put his tent as far from the fire as possible- yet still very much in hearing range. She throws open the entrance to find him smirking up at her, the culprit in hand glistening gloriously in the candlelight. The sight makes her knees weak.

“You… did you do that on purpose? How come I couldn’t get through?” Her voice is hushed but measured and dangerous, his smile deepening as she steps fully inside.

“How else was I going to get you over here?” he murmurs, soft and seductive. She carefully lowers herself to her knees beside him as he idly moves his hand back and forth, maintaining eye contact as they remain connected. She can feel the twist of his fingers and the subtle flex of his wrist. When a soft groan echoes in her mind, she opens her eyes to blink in confusion.

“Was that only in my head?” His grin deepens, hands abandoning their task to unclasp her corset and tug it off completely.

“Correct,” He reaches up and pulls her down till her lips crash over his and he devours every little breathless sigh and tremble of her body. “We haven’t touched like this in so long… we’re too close to everyone…” She hums at the words in her head, soft as she can, unable to linger on them as the slightest touch of his lips to her neck sends chills down her spine. He undoes her bra and her nipples stiffen in the chilled air, unable to restrain the gasps that slip past her teeth as his fingers barely brush over them. She’s so sensitive… doesn’t remember ever feeling it this intensely before.

Perhaps it has been a while for them… they’d not done much else but fight through the Lower City for the last few days, and before that, it had been fighting to get to the gates and through Gortash’s Steel Watch. Which hadn’t put up much of a fight, since they’d been allowed entry at the cost of a sham deal. Her eyes widen at the mental count she’s gone through, the number eighteen shining in her vision as his soft tut slices through the realization.

“Eighteen gods damn days and I haven’t been inside you for a single one of them. I feel like I’m dying,” He growls. She flushes hard, lips parted as she holds his ruby eyes in her gaze. They pierce right through her and he uses the connection to withdraw the scene playing within, lips ticking up at the corner to reveal his pretty fangs.

“No snooping,” She pouts, her cheeks rising in temperature as his hands move to enact the craving she’d accidentally let slip.

“Please, you were leaving that exactly where you hoped I’d find it.” She squints her eyes shut and holds back a noise, unwilling to tell him out loud what that gravelly growl just did to her. With a light chuckle, she knows he’s very aware, and one hand nudges her thighs apart so he can dip between them and lightly run up the seam of her through her clothes.

“Mmmph!” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, heat surging through her veins at the light touch. It’s enough to leave her trembling, eyes snapping open to zero in on him through the haze around the edges of her vision.

“I barely have to try and you’re already so wet for me… tssk tssk.” She whimpers softly, letting him do it again, and another gush of wetness dooms her further, making denial impossible as she bites down on her fingers to stifle the moan.

Shakily she lets him guide her onto her back on the blankets, heart fluttering as his cool digits caress the plump skin of her belly to rest at the waistband of her pants. His eyes linger over hers as he sits up, moving smoothly through her vision as he gently prods her knees and she complies by propping them up. Once he’s pushed them apart, he sits between them, those painstakingly perfect curls of his now tousled and lying in soft sweeps over his forehead and ears. Cute and messy- just the way she likes.

“Everyone’s still awake and just outside…” She whispers, though her eager pants and the waves of longing growing within push the concern aside. He tightens his grip on her legs, leaning down ever so slightly, and as he hovers above a wicked smile unfurls over his pale pink lips.

“And?” Cheeks aflame, she brings her hands up to rest over her bare breasts, obscuring the stiff peaks from his sight, and his eyes glint with disapproval. “Hmm. Seems like I’ll have to use them after all.” Before she can open her mouth to question him, he’s reaching for something beneath a cushion in the corner, and her eyes widen in realization when he pulls it and its companions out from their hiding place.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d like this sort of stuff,” She smirks, watching his smile deepen.

“Oh, but your eyes lingered a little too long on them in that shop window, and I assumed. Do feel free to tell me if I’ve made a mistake.” Her entire body roars with heat at the sight of the pretty, silken red rope as he beckons for her to give him her wrists.

“Astarion… this is dangerous. What about everybody?” She murmurs, obeying his command as she weaves her fingers together so he can restrain her properly.

“Use the tadpole.” She cocks a brow, focusing on the sweet divot between his brows as he focuses on the task of now tying her forearms together. Her eyes dip further, taking in the bunched-up fabric of his shirt sitting above his narrow waist, and further still until they find the flushed head of his cock and the soft bulging veins that decorate his shaft, saliva pooling in her mouth as she pictures her tongue following the thickest of them from root to tip.

“Naughty,” He chides with a laugh, pinching her nipple as punishment, and with a soft gasp he finishes securing her arms.

“Use the tadpole how?” He sits back on his heels, admiring his handy work, before pulling his shirt off to discard behind him.

“Watch, feel,” She does. His long pale fingers move down the front of his body, gleaming like alabaster beneath the soft golden light. He winds his talented hands around the base of him, trousers slipping down his thighs, and her eyes follow the gentle fist he makes as he drags it up once, lashes fluttering shut as a soft groan enters her mind.

“Wow…” She breathes, and his lips tick up to expose the sharp points of his fangs as her voice mixes within their shared connection. His eyes open, narrow crimson irises tethering to hers, and she shifts and squirms beneath him, desperate for relief as he pumps his hand back and forth faster. Every stroke draws a soft noise from him, breath stolen from her lungs as she lies captivated by the glistening fluid he spreads from the tip over his twitching shaft, the lewd schlick schlick sounds as he pleasures himself in front of her leaving her shaking all over.

“Astarion,” She warns, pinching him with her knees. He laughs under his breath, pausing in his motions to reach forward and slowly drag both her underthings and pants off. She lies there naked, need pooling in her core, and he shuffles his pants off before reaching for one of the other items he’d retrieved earlier.

“Lift your head up, love.” She complies, stealing a kiss from him before silk covers her eyes and he ties it securely in the back.

“Hmmm full of surprises tonight, aren’t you.” She smirks, not knowing if he’s still hovering over her or if he’s leaned back again courtesy of the blindfold.

“Do you trust me, Ofelia?” She frowns at the odd question, shaking her head.

“Of course, why?” She hears a light hum, bubbling out of his throat before his hands run over her hips. It makes her jump, not expecting the contact, and angry waves of lust grow ever insistent against her skin.

“Good. Just remember- the tadpole, darling,” She nods, still mystified, as his fingers begin to work soft breathy sighs from her lips. They caress her cheeks, dance along her neck, stroke the pillowy swells of her breasts to linger over her stiff nipples, before descending further. She gasps when his tongue moves to lave over the places his hands have been as he starts to spread her thighs, gently squeezing the plump flesh.

“Nng… Astarion…” She rolls her hips up into his hands, redirecting the noises she’d like to be making into demanding whines that flow through the stream binding their minds together. His voice is smooth and soft as velvet as he coos back, lips idling below her navel as he kisses her there.

“Good girl,” She spasms as his tongue gathers the juices leaking from her core to flick lightly over her clit, teeth digging into her lip as she fights the urge to voice her reactions into the night air. Her hands strain against the rope, wanting madly to touch him, to do anything, but it’s no use. The material digs deliciously into her skin, her breath coming out in ragged bursts as he does it again and the spark of pleasure that flashes between her legs and behind her eyes almost blinds her.

 “So pent up… so wet… and you taste so sweet.” Her head thrashes from side to side as he resumes his gentle laps over her soaked core, fighting to keep still beneath his strong hands. A few sounds slip from her lips, strangled and soft, and she feels him drag his fangs over her skin in a warning.

“Please go slower…” She pleads, swallowing each whimper that threatens to pour over her lips. It’s so hard… so hard… and he’s ignoring her request, the tip of his tongue pushing the hood back to expose the sensitive nerve as he sucks it roughly. Her hips jerk and her legs tent around him, muted moans escaping her control.

“I thought I told you to keep quiet.” The growl in her mind leaves her thighs trembling and she startles when she feels his fingers grip her chin, a touch on the stern side, as a piece of damp cloth gets pushed against her mouth. She opens up, stifling another groan as her teeth dig into the smooth cotton, tasting herself on the fabric as a shiver pulses down her body at the realization, and every nerve lights up anew.

His mouth closes around her tender bud, sucking lightly just as his fingers sweep over her thigh to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Every light touch feels magnified, her eyes closed beneath the blindfold yet straining to get a glimpse him. She bites harder down onto the fabric when his fingers find her slick entrance to lightly trace the fluttering outline, her muscles seizing and her hips grinding against his mouth in an effort to gain relief. He’s been teasing her thus far, even his lips bathing her in only the daintiest of glances. A growing whine builds in her throat, spilling into his mind through the tadpole, and his pleased hums thunder in her ears as she rests her bound hands over her stomach.

“Please, Astarion,” Her tone is desperate, far past the notion of dignity. When she’s with him, there’s no outer shell. He dismantles her with practiced hands, slow and sweet, and it's both agony and bliss to be known this way.

He plunges his middle finger in to the knuckle and she throws her head back against the cushions, teeth digging into the material further dampened by her saliva as the flames threaten to burn her alive. She utilizes the connection, making sure he can hear every noise she wishes she could voice aloud, and his soft laughs carry through the air in reply- not unkind, but frustratingly smug. He adds another digit and curls them perfectly, her muscles tightening and her impending climax looming closer as he flicks his tongue over her clit.

“Do you think you could be even sweeter and come on my fingers, darling?” She inhales sharply, feeling her walls clench around him in response.

“Yes… anything you want… yes,” He kisses her stomach softly, fangs leaving treasured impressions against her skin, and his free hand tugs her closer before curling beneath her leg, face fully buried between her thighs. Her heart throbs in her chest at the attention, arms extending as far as she can reach to tangle her fingers in his soft hair.

He pumps his fingers in once, twice, mouth latching on fully to suck and lick and push her closer, and suddenly before she can fall off the edge, his face and head leave her grasp. His digits work faster until withdrawing completely to replace his mouth and before she can adjust to the change, the swollen head of his cock is plunging inside, pleasure snapping like a whip over her as he thrusts to the hilt.

“Astarion!” She complies with his request, though he’d been the one to change the terms. Her entire body curls in, the intensity of white-hot ecstasy stealing her breath and raking over her with sharp claws. Her mind lists, falling from the connection before his tadpole latches back on forcefully and she’s gazing at her sweat-slick body through his eyes, watching her chest rise and fall in an effort to come back down.

“Beautiful,” His voice is reverent and soft in the tent, her vision dimming back into the welcoming darkness of the blindfold as he strokes over her waist. She sighs, still riding out the aftershocks of her climax as he throbs inside her, and she feels his hands close around hers before dragging them up above her head. She lifts a brow, curiosity crossing the bridge between their minds, and he clicks his tongue.

“You'll see…” She waits impatiently as his movements cause him to sink even deeper, and she gasps as she adjusts to the stretch. He does something to secure her hands before his warmth leaves her, raw and aching in the space where he’d been.

“Oh, you really planned this out,” Humor laces through the words she projects to him, and with a punitive flick to her nipple, she quiets with a yelp, fire burning hot in her belly at the action.

“Don't sound so surprised,” His tone sends shivers down her spine- deep and flaring with warning. She decides to test her luck further, pulling futilely at the rope around her hands before letting him hear the laugh she wishes she could make.

“Sorry darling,” She chides, hissing as he drags his length out of her. She mourns the loss, but her smile around the gag in her mouth widens at the possibility of where he may end up next. “Just didn't expect this level of forethought-”

“Silence,” He growls in her ear, pulling her underthings out of her mouth much more gently than she'd expected as his tongue sweeps over the wetness left in their wake. “Even gagged you still keep talking. Seems I'll have to shut you up some other way.”

She whimpers with anticipation, only having a second to rub her thighs together once he's left his place between them before the fat head of his cock presses against her grin. She greedily opens her mouth, groaning as he slips inside, and his echoing moans fill the tent with almost alarming volume.

“Thought we were being quiet?” He fists her hair and tips her face to get a better angle, her soft cry smothered by his shaft, and she blissfully dissolves into the feeling of him filling her as his hips move in barely subdued snaps.

“Hells, enough woman. Now be good and stay. Quiet,” He punctuates the last word with a growl and a sharp thrust, slick gushing from her at the sound of his voice. She hums in delight, rosy waves of devotion mixing with the peel of want that crackles through her mind. He strokes her cheek in approval and she trembles at the contrast in comparison to his deep thrusts.

“Alright, pet?” He coos, voice rushing through her and hard to fully grasp as it trickles between her thoughts. She tries to nod, wanting to see the way his hips move as he rocks them back and forth, hunger sharpening into heady desire and he chuckles in reply.

“Suppose you deserve a reward for taking me so well, darling.” She shudders and her cunt clenches around nothing, longing for him in two places at once.

She blinks when he pulls the blindfold up to rest over her forehead, awash in his pale glow as he moves in the candlelight. Every undulation of his body fans hot flames of desire burning low in her abdomen, dangerous and all-consuming. She could stare at him all day- all night. She's especially hypnotized by his spit-soaked length disappearing beneath her nose as her fucks her mouth, her vision going blurry with tears as he starts to rock deeper.

“Gods, look at you,” The words exude awe and barely restrained lust, ragged and restless as they echo back to her. She hums, hollowing her cheeks and swirling her tongue and he hits the back of her throat at last with a shift of her jaw, broken whines spilling from him.

“Fuck,” He hisses outloud, voice barely a whisper as he pulls out enough to let her catch her breath. His face is devastating, screwed up in pleasure and flushed full of the blood she'd given him before dinner. With a loving swipe of his thumb, he gathers the drool covering her chin before pressing the tip of his cock back over her lips.

“Can I feel it too?” She whispers, watching his ruby eyes darken into tiny slivers.

“Gods, yes… Open,” He commands, and she does, their connection strengthening as he pushes inside again.

A bolt of pleasure sparks between her legs at the odd sensation of his entry, and she feels faint at the disorienting pulse of want throwing her into the fire as she discovers firsthand just how lovely her own mouth feels wrapped around him.

“Don't… move for a second,” Her voice rings back, sounding embarrassingly depraved, and she shudders at the way lightly flicking her tongue over the tip feels. He crowns her head with his fingers, lightly scratching at her scalp, and a fever breaks over her skin as he drags himself out before gently pushing back inside.

“Ofelia… this may not be a good idea,” She releases him with a soft pop, feeling their link slacken until only intentional thoughts remain shared.

“What’s wrong?” She speaks low, watching his brow furrow as he releases his lower lip from beneath his teeth.

“I… your bleeding over… gods, it feels new. I won’t last.” A smug grin tugs at her lips and he exhales in sharp rasps.

“Would that really be so bad?” He sighs, stroking her hair, before shuffling down her body. No matter how much she whines in protest, he ignores her, knees caging in her legs as his elbows rest beside her shoulders.

“It is when I’ve got more planned,” She rolls her eyes playfully, huffing a laugh when he tugs the blindfold back down and affectionately pinches her cheek.

With her senses rendered to four once more, she strains for any indication of his next move as she feels him sit up, backside resting against the tops of her thighs as his heavy cock bumps her stomach. She twists her arms until the silk closes around her wrists painfully, letting out a shuddering sigh at the feeling as she lies in wait.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Astarion murmurs, finally, and she tenses in anticipation of what he’s alluding to. She doesn’t have to count the seconds for long, a drop of heat landing on her right breast to singe her before cooling against her skin.

“You didn’t…” She rasps, feeling the web holding her thoughts aloft begin to fray at the seams. She writhes and moans, inhaling sharply when his palm covers her mouth and a few more drops spill over her chest.

“You make such lovely noises for me, darling” He whispers, thumb caressing her nipple as wax drips across her sternum. She catches a finger in her mouth and nips at him, earning a gravelly growl as he presses two digits against her lips. She sucks them in like her life depends on it, teeth closing around a bite every time he spills more.

The sting of the rope and the molten fire trickling down her breasts shred her mind into ribbons, lungs heaving for oxygen as she tries to hang on. She can hear him everywhere, cool breath tickling her skin as he whispers filthy affections into her ear. Her body simmers beneath the pain of the wax and the lightness of his touch as breathing normally becomes a herculean task.

She weeps beneath the fabric covering her eyes, tears sinking into her scalp as a few scorching drops roll down the plump planes of her stomach. Every sear against her skin has her softly pleading his name through the tadpole, surprised to feel their bond strengthen as breathless whines spill from his lips and he experiences the melted bliss of the wax as if it were grazing his skin.

“You look lovely…” He whispers to her, a fresh drip landing on her clavicle to pool against the hollow of her throat. She reacts to him with feeling alone, pulling at her restraints as she rolls her hips against him.

“A-astarion…” Her voice barely passes from her throat, nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

“Ofelia,” He croons, both hands back on her body now. He must have set it down or blown it out, and she sighs in relief as he drifts over the cool, hardening liquid against her skin. “Like you’re covered in blood,”

She startles when the blindfold slides off, disoriented and struggling to keep his face in view as everything blurs together. Through her daze, she looks down to appreciate the deep wine hues of the wax covering her body like pretty splatters of the sanguine liquid he’s so fond of. He leans down to softly cradle her face in his hands and she gazes up at him, eyes glancing off his flushed cheeks, his pupils eclipsing the pools of flaming red as he captures her lips in a kiss full of sharp teeth and earnest, sweet sighs.

She shivers when he moves her thighs apart and sinks between them, cock sliding against her wet slit before dipping further to brush her clit with each pass. Her fingers twitch, longing to pull free and touch him everywhere, but the slow torture of him doing whatever he likes to her has her drunk on the feeling.

His to mold, his to take. His, his, his.

His hands run up her arms and she feels the rope slacken, allowing her to remove them and linger over the pretty red marks crisscrossing her skin. Her affectionate eyes find him and he kisses her again, breath stolen from her lungs as her body yearns to press against him, like this forever if she were allowed. Her arms wrap around his neck and he slides inside her slowly, little noises mixing on their tongues as he bottoms out and they both exhale in relief.

“You always feel so good, Star,” She murmurs in his ear as he presses his nose against the side of her face. A rumbling growl vibrates against her chest and she smiles, feeling him kiss the drying tears near her temples. “So good,” He groans and finally thrusts, hard, earning a sweet gasp in return.

The inferno burns hotter in her belly, every drag against her walls leaving her desperate for more of him to cling to, to kiss, to touch. The bruising grip he has on her hips leaves her dizzy in the wake of his tender kisses, and she strengthens their bond to share the feeling with him. His pace stutters to a halt, each muscle rippling in a struggle to hold back as his eyes fall shut and he bites his lip to suppress the guttural noise catching in his throat.

“You can’t,” He pants, moving involuntarily and she watches a full-body shiver run through him at the sensation.

“Let me,” She pleads, propping herself up on her elbows to gain leverage, and with it, she pushes him down on his back against the soft blankets. She clambers on top of him, wanting him back inside, but she represses the instinct to softly caress the planes of his chest. He shivers, looking up at her, and once she confirms his consent, she moves her hands over her breasts and touches them like he does.

“Nng… Ofelia…” He whines, hands slipping over her hips. The way his features twist in pleasure and his body curls towards her has her mind spinning, flush with the feeling of him.

She wants to make him feel just as good as he makes her feel, wants him to enjoy every moment, as she always does, forever grateful that he'd chosen to share the pain of his past with her and trusts her with it enough to embrace her in this way. She'll hold it all in her heart, for as long as he'll have her, and longer still if he chooses to bury any of it with her once she's gone.

“You're not going anywhere,” He mumbles, eyes stuck on her. She smiles adoringly, running her fingers over his lips before she sinks to kiss him.

She can hear her heart race through his ears, sharpened by his abilities. She runs her hands up his arms, worshiping every square inch with soft fingertips and eventually her mouth, too. Every noise that he makes sinks her deeper, reveling in the way it all reflects on her body and sends tingling pleasure across her skin. The Astarion she knows, with his haughty attitude and snide remarks, falls away beneath her touch and she can’t hide the pride that tears through her mind, knowing it’s all because of her. Every sigh, every twitch, every whispered plea washes over her and it’s almost hard to tell which moves are his and which are hers.

“Ahh… ahh… slow…” He murmurs and she nods, hovering over him, shaking from the promise of having him inside and wanting it so badly she can hardly breathe. She closes her eyes, sinking her teeth into her lip until the flesh splits beneath them when he finally slips in.

“Gods…” Their voices mix within their minds, and she’s looking up at herself and looking down at him, uncertain which sets of eyes she's supposed to be seeing through. Her vision spins and she grows dizzy, mind melting into pleasure as she forces her hips down in one quick thrust that has her sight leaving her in a flash of light followed by the sweet darkness of her fluttering lashes.

She sways astride him, the sounds he’s making loud and frantic, his entire body pulsing with need and blinding sensation. There’s no way they’ve managed to hide their affairs from the rest of camp by now, but that thought drifts from her mind and vanishes among the unbearable heat building in her core.

“Are you okay?” She whispers, reigning in her sense of self as much as she’s able to while laboring under the feeling of his cock swelling and pulsing inside her. She can’t look at him, eyes shut tight as her thumbs brush over his chest, trying to soothe him into a reply as the ghost of her touch drifts over her skin.

At an unspeakable urge, she opens her eyes to lock onto his, and she digs her nails into his skin at the look he gives her. His hands tighten over her hips and she reaches for the stool behind him, letting her breath out in a rush as he lifts her and slams her back down against him.

“Star!” She tastes iron in her mouth, eyes trained on his and thoughts lost to the void as she rides him. With each thrust she loses the dividing line distinguishing their bodies from each other, feeling the insistent demand to take him deeper, harder- anything to get to the edge. The impressions of his fingers adorn her skin in violet petals, each thrust leaving her trembling as she chants his name in her head. Her gaze seeks reprieve within his as he tangles his fingers in the hair at the base of her skull while the other hand rests over her shoulder, pulling her close as they chase the building heat unraveling them.

“Love…” His voice is raw when he opens his mouth, her fingers tracing his cheek as she tightens her hold on his waist to slow to a less energetic bounce. “I love you.” She blinks in surprise, the phrase rare and sweet in her ears- one he never utters frivolously. Thoughts of him dapple her vision, a recollection of every moment she’s felt so sincerely in love with him. She melts into a breathless laugh, smitten beyond the point of no return as they fade back into precious memories, edges tinged in hues of warm pink.

“I love you too,” She sighs, kissing him once before peppering more over his jaw and down his throat. His answering groans have her walls constricting around him as he pulls her against his chest, deep thrusts propelling them closer and closer. She licks a stripe up the side of his neck, reveling in the twitch of his cock inside her before she nips him.

“Ofelia!” It’s just as sweet as she’s always pictured when her teeth sink into his flesh, her neck throbbing at the phantom pain. He stills, lust and roaring heat dancing between their connection as his nails sink into her hips. She reaches down, stealing his hands to intertwine with her own, and rises to resume the punishing rhythm as she dredges wounded cries from deep inside his chest.

The band tightens, walls fluttering when he angles himself and hits the spot that has high-pitched moans marking each upward drive of his hips as she stares into his eyes. His smolder with approval and his hands slip from her own to cover her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and drawing little breathy whines from her mouth. Gods… she could ride him all night.

“I won’t stop you,” He huffs with a smile and she laughs, ending on a needy whimper.

“Need more…” She pleads and he wraps his arms around her back, stealing kisses from her mouth, before stilling her movements and readjusting their bodies. Once he’s settled, she’s perched in his lap, holding onto his shoulders for balance as he lifts her once, holding just the tip inside, before thrusting up.

“Hells…” He sighs, expression contorted as if in pain. “Come for me?” Her eyes fly shut and she nods madly, fireworks bursting behind her lids as one hand snakes between their bodies to rest where they’re intimately connected. Deft fingers slide over her aching clit and she digs her nails into his back as her thighs begin to shake.

“Astarion… I’m so close… please.” She begs, whimpering beneath the soft swirls of his fingers. His face nestles against her neck, fangs hovering over her skin in a vow to pierce and drink and she silently compels him forward, craving the intrusion and the overwhelming maelstrom it provides. Bitten and dizzy, she cries his name, falling apart as he strokes over her and her climax bleeds onto his mind.

His strangled shout is lost amid the flood, following right behind as he spills inside her. He presses them together, shivering and sweaty, the mental thread between them finally severing as they drift in and out of coherence. She caresses his hair, fighting for breath as his lips brush over the punctures in her neck before pulling away.

Heavy-lidded, he appraises her form before softening and she smiles sleepily at him, hooked on the pretty blush covering his cheeks and the blood smeared at the corner of his mouth. As her hands move to his jaw, she grazes the delicate points of his ears until shivers wrack his body and her mouth widens in amusement. He grumbles dramatically before pulling her down to cover her smile with a passionate kiss, hands fisted into her hair as she rocks against him.

“Maybe we should go without for a month next time if this is what I get for it.” She laughs at the disdain on his face, humming softly as his hands run over her breasts and gently squeeze.

“Over my dead body,”

“Star, you are dead.” He lays her on her back, stiff and swelling inside, and she makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat as his lips drop to the shell of her ear.

“Mmm, not happening. I think I'll have you again now,” His teeth catch the tender lobe and her breath hitches, the sweet rolls of his hips drawing more hoarse moans from her mouth.

“Wait… do you hear that?” Astarion stills at her question, quirking a silver brow.

“What?” She shakes her head, listening for any noise but not even the lapping of the water against the docks is audible.

“I don't hear anything…” Embarrassment washes her face in a sheen of scarlet and he laughs.

“I heard Gale cast it thirty minutes ago. Not to worry dear, you can scream as hard as you want when I make you come again. No one will hear.”

“Ughhh!” She covers her face with her hands, shame like a brand heating the surface of her skin. “That’s so humiliating!” He chuckles and resumes his thrusts, apparently serious about going again, and she sighs as her hands fall onto the cushion beside her head.

“Don’t be such a prude, they’ve all heard us before.” She rolls her eyes, gradually forgetting her discomfort as he brings the stars close again.

In their own little haven, separate from the rest of the world- the Absolute, her complicated heritage, and the looming fight to finally free him from his master- the silence shields them from it all. She loses count of how many times they fall apart, the spell from before crumbling before he’s finished with her, but that doesn’t stop him. She holds fast, his neck muffling her sobs as he draws out their bliss with every soft-spoken word and move of his body. He hovers above her when he’s spent, and even as she’s rapidly losing the fight to stay conscious, the smile won’t leave her face.

“We have to get up in a few hours,” Ofelia mumbles, trying to swat him away when he goes to pinch her cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’re regretting it all,” He laments, expression breaking into those big wet eyes she both loves and despises, mostly because he uses them to get his way.

“Of course not… but I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow, so if I ask you to carry my pack I don’t want to hear it.”

“Deal,” He noses at her neck, soft and sweet as he finishes cleaning them up, and when they curl together under the blankets she presses kisses to his lips.

“What do we do once this is all over… no more tadpoles?” Her question is hushed, posed in such a way that it could lead to a multitude of answers.

He stares at her, wrapped up in his arms, and he brings a hand up to rest against her face. Cool marble against a sun-soaked beach.

“I don’t know. But at least we’ll be together.”

***

Guys- I HATE DRAWING HANDS but please look at this WIP I'm working on. 👉👈

[sometimesanalice]

Like I Can (Part 3)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

(All’s well that ends well❣️ Enjoy!)

You’d been on edge all day. 

Having slept terribly the night before, you’d woken up early and giving up on the idea of going back to sleep had ended up at a sunrise yoga class, hoping that some movement would help you clear your mind. By the end of the hour you were even more frustrated than you were before you arrived, the poses feeling unnaturally forced instead of flowing seamlessly as they usually did. 

So much for some goddamn inner peace.

Work was even worse. You had arrived to find that the espresso machine was broken. And whoever made a pot on the ancient drip machine, that was undoubtedly pulled out of a dingy storage closet somewhere, clearly hated everyone else since it tasted like tar. You could barely focus enough to clear out your inbox, when your work nemesis started breathing down your neck about a proposal that wasn’t due for another two weeks. 

Time was dragging on. And every time you looked at the clock thinking it had been at least an hour since you’d last checked, were continually shocked to see that barely fifteen minutes had passed by. Thankfully it was Friday, so your boss didn’t care when you called it a day and left at lunch. It was better for everyone this way.

You had tried painting your nails, but didn’t have the patience to let them dry and smudged them trying to open a package of crackers. Ignoring the crumbs that got everywhere as you ate them while working the cotton pad over the remnants of your pretty pink polish. Your new favorite show didn’t hold your attention like it usually did and you found yourself mindlessly scrolling on your phone, missing most of the plot you’d had to restart it. Twice.

Not even the scenic drive along the coast to the restaurant you were supposed to meet your date at had done anything to alleviate your nerves.

You had been surprised at the choice of location when you had received the text message with the information about this particular date. As much as you enjoyed going to the Hard Deck, you were very much looking forward to drinking something other than a beer. Sure, Penny could make a mean spicy margarita, but sometimes an overpriced aesthetically pleasing cocktail just hit the spot better than anything else. 

But most of all, you were thankful for a change of pace and the privacy this offered you. You had never been one for the spotlight, and dating on display had left you feeling drained.

You’re sitting in a surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker dining chair on the outdoor patio of the new trendy fusion restaurant you’ve been dying to come to. From your spot tucked away in the corner you can see the ocean waves rolling in and back out again. The golden rays already promising a stunning sunset later in the evening.

The foliage of the giant potted monsteras and birds of paradise made the terrace feel like a lush oasis, and contrasted stylishly against the large painted terracotta tiles on the ground. The pergola that covered it was dotted wisteria amongst the other climbing greenery, and numerous oversized hanging rattan sconces. The dainty lights woven throughout reflecting off the wine glasses on the table.

This was exactly what you needed. Too bad you couldn’t let yourself enjoy it, the twisted knots in the pit of your stomach had served a constant reminder of your nerves all day.

You had used this date as an excuse to finally buy the deep green floral dress you’d had your eye on for ages. The gentle drape of the neck was subtly sophisticated, while the high slit on the side added some serious sex appeal. 

There was nothing wrong with a little retail therapy you had told yourself as you’d swiped your credit card. If you looked good, maybe it would help you to feel good.

In all honesty, it probably had a little too much sex appeal since you couldn’t stop fidgeting in your chair trying to get the silky dress cover up more of your thigh that was currently displayed rather provocatively. It felt like the more you tried to get it to lay right the more of your leg was exposed. 

It probably didn’t help that you couldn’t stop the restless bouncing of your leg. You weren’t usually an antsy person, leg bouncing had always been more of Rooster’s anxious habit than yours.

Maybe you’ll feel less exposed once you draped the linen napkin across your lap. You’re tempted to do it now, but you don’t want to disturb the artfully laid out tablescape before your date has arrived.

It had been three weeks of back to back truly terrible dates. You could see the finish line now, but you couldn’t say that it wasn’t wearing on you. It had sounded like fun in theory, but now you weren’t so sure you would said yes again if you were offered a do-over. 

You were tired. 

Tired of going through the motions with men who could hardly be bothered to do the bare minimum. Tired of trying to sell the best version of yourself. Tired of putting on a show when all you wanted to find was an easy kind of love.

And this particular date had you more on edge and anxious than any of the other ones you’d gone on.

Even if you were pressed, you could not remember a single thing about the guy Payback had set you up with on your most recent blind date.

That evening you hadn’t even bothered trying to put together a cute outfit for the meeting. Instead, the only real effort you’d opted to put in was painting your lips a bright red as an attempt to psych yourself up for it. You didn’t usually wear such a bold color, but when you did it never failed to make you feel more brilliant.

And while you couldn’t remember anything about your date, what you did vividly remember was the fight you got into with Rooster that night.

You had been coming back from the restroom and on your way back to your date when you had bumped into him rounding the corner. 

“Sorry, that was my fault,” he’d said as he reached out to steady you with hand going to your waist, dropping it once he realized it was you. “Oh, hey.”

Glancing over to your date who seemed absorbed in some game he was playing on his phone, you figured he wouldn’t miss you if you spent a few extra minutes away to catch up with Rooster.

He had been acting really distant lately, taking a couple days to respond to texts rather than a couple of hours like it usually took him. Natasha had told you about the rigorous training they were being put though, and you had assumed it probably had something to do with that. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between you two.

Rooster was already pulling away from you and taking a step towards the bar when you reached out grabbing his wrist to keep him with you. Looking around for a quiet place to talk, you’d heard him sigh behind you, but still held on to him as you made your way to one of the high-top tables in the corner by the empty stage. 

You’d stopped and let go as you turned towards him, only to find him already looking at you with an expression that landed somewhere between expectant and exasperated. The cuffs of his shirt straining around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Well?” he grunted out.

Was he mad at you? You couldn’t think of any recent arguments you’d had recently that would explain the harsh tone he was using with you. 

“Is everything ok? I feel like you’ve been really off lately. You know I’m always here for you, right?” Your hand was already reaching out to touch him, but you resisted the urge not wanting to further agitate him.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m surprised you even have time to talk to me with all these washouts you’ve been wasting your time on. You’re the one with the busy social calendar, not me.” He was looking over the top of your head avoiding your gaze now, the bitterness in his voice had stunned you. 

“Seriously? What is the matter with you?” 

He’d never been so intentionally callous with you before and it hurt. 

“Listen, if there is an issue me dating the people your friends have been setting me up with, you need to let me know,” you’d said pointing a firm finger at him, your anger rising. “This was supposed to be a fun no pressure situation, but I don’t want to be in the middle of this if things are getting heated between you guys. It’s not worth it to me. But you don’t get to ignore me for days and then claim that I’m the one avoiding you.”

He made a noise of frustration as he dragged both hands through his curls. You could see the flex of his jaw as he’d clenched his teeth together.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he ducked down to that his eyes were level with your, and you could see the remorse in them. “You’re right, that was shitty of me to take it out on you. I’m just… tired.”

You’d simply nodded at him, feeling like you weren’t on the same page as him didn’t sit well with you. “Phoenix told me about your new training program, it seems intense,” your voice sounded small even to your own ears.

“Yeah, the training,” he’d sighed out pausing for a moment as he weighed his words, rubbing at his chest, “It’s taking a toll on me, but that’s my problem. I mean it, I’m sorry.”

“Are we good?” you searched his eyes, your friendship with him was so important to you.

“You and me? We’re good, kid. Always.” He’d reached out and squeezed your shoulder before heading back to where the group was gathered together pretending like they weren’t just watching your argument play out. 

Needless to say, your head was somewhere elsewhere entirely as you made your way back to your date. You’d felt bad being so distracted, but your mind just kept playing the argument on repeat. It was like your brain was trying to pull apart every little word to decode something that you didn’t think was there.

After Payback’s friend had left, you rejoined everyone else around the pool table. You couldn’t tell if the mood was off or if it was just you reading into things, since they hadn’t been prodding you with questions like they usually did.

Natasha was in the middle of giving you a glowing review of the man she had been bragging about since she first offered to set you up, when Rooster came to sit with you both.

“He’s just your type. He’s an engineer, so he’s smart. He’s got that whole glasses wearing and floppy hair thing going for him. And he’s funny. Rumor has it that he talked back to his Rear Admiral one time and got away with it because the guy had found him amusing. I fully expect you to name one of your future children with him after me.”

Rooster had surprised the pair of you when he stood up so violently that he almost knocked over the beers on the table. 

“What the fuck, Bradshaw?” Nat had exclaimed as you both worked to rescue the teetering bottles from becoming casualties from his sudden movement.

You had no idea what he was going to say as an explanation for why he’d jumped out of his seat the way he did, but what he ended up unexpectedly announcing instead of answering Nat’s question had sent you into a tailspin.

So now here you are in a restaurant you’d be dying to go to, fidgety and anxious in a probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative dress for a first date with the guy who Rooster was willing to break his long-standing rules for to set you up with.

To say you were feeling the pressure was an understatement. No one knew you like Rooster did. He’d seen you at your best and at your worst. He wouldn’t just pick any random guy he knew, he would be picking the one who he thought would be the best for you.

The thought should be comforting, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness.

You pick up your phone again and double check the time in the text that Rooster had sent you with all the details for your date with his friend. 

It was either that do that again or moving the ever-so-slightly crooked gold salad fork back into place.

You’re about to open Instagram for the third time since you sat down, turning when you hear a throat clear purposely behind you.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

For Rooster, when you’d first agreed to participate in the bet with his friends those dates started off as annoying inconveniences. Just inconsequential disruptions that got in the way of his time with you.

You were his best friend and at his bar, yet he felt like he’d hardly seen you these past couple of weeks- or at least not as much as he would have liked. 

Sure, he got some time with you here and there at the end of the night like when you had late night tacos on the beach. Or when he’d taught you his favorite pool trick, well more like attempted to teach you, he loved how stunningly bad you were at the game. But he felt like he was competing with these idiots his friends had picked out for your time and your attention. 

He wasn’t used to sharing you. In the past, if you had a date that conflicted with something spontaneous he wanted to do or something that the group had planned together, more often than not he could get you to move it or cancel completely.

He’d never been above a little bribery to get his way, he knew what you liked.

You going on dates wasn’t a new concept to him, but seeing them paraded in front of him was a different story. And he was getting really tired of watching you from across the bar while feeling like you were out of reach.

The more of them you went on, and the more he heard Natasha crowing about having the perfect man for you the more agitated he felt. The worse that feeling in the pit of his stomach got. 

The evening of date for Payback’s pick, they’d all seen you walk in through the doors of the Hard Deck wearing that shade of red lipstick. You’d wore it so well. His friends had immediately started speculating about what it meant. Phoenix had called them all idiots, and while he couldn’t claim to know anything about make-up and those things, he did know you didn’t just wear that color for no reason. 

He had vague memories of his mom putting the color on when they’d go greet his dad, at least he like to think those were his memories. Or maybe they were just something he’d created in his head from all the time he had spent looking at old photos of his mom and dad together, her smile always outlined in the color. His favorite was the one where his dad’s cheeks were covered in bright red lipstick kisses as he smiled indulgently down at his mom while a young Bradley was propped on her hip clutching his prized F-14 Tomcat. He had that one framed on the end table next to his couch. 

And seeing that color on you for a date with this random guy had rattled him.

He’d felt so terrible later that evening when he took those feelings out on you. Hating himself as he lashed out at you. Hating himself as he saw your face fall and the hurt in your eyes. Hating himself for being the person who made you feel bad.

And the crux of it all was that you weren’t wrong, he had been deliberately distant by being slow to reply and ignoring texts from you. He wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d hoped by creating some space that it would help him to try and get his head back on straight. 

He’d let you assume that he was tired from the new training program they were being put through. What he didn’t tell you was that he was already outperforming everyone on the team, and that he hadn’t had to do any extra push-ups in a week and a half. 

He was tired because he hadn’t been sleeping, and he couldn’t sleep because every time he tried to close his eyes all he could see was you on these dates. Replaying them in his mind’s eye wondering what the outcome would have been had they not gone so terribly wrong each time.

The what-ifs swarming around his brain day and night like agitated hornets.

While he had been quick to apologize for being a dick, the sharp pain that settled behind his sternum wouldn’t subside no matter how much he had tried to rub it away.

He didn’t know what was more unbearable, the idea of losing you to a chance encounter of circumstance. Some meet cute courtesy of the universe that he couldn’t see coming until it was too late, when it’s already too far out of his hands and out of his control. To see you grinning that smile so bright, the one so wide it made your dimples appear, as you introduced that guy to him. 

Or sitting here night after night analyzing every little thing as you date the people some of his closest friends had picked out for you. Watching and hoping that these dates would just be funny stories you told on drunken nights out rather than the story told at your wedding about the night that everything changed when you met your person. Of having to be happy for you even as you pull away from him.

His ears were ringing and he’d felt his stomach drop. 

He could see it now, a day when your life ran parallel to his rather than entwined as he was used to. Of you with a partner. With children. Of him as ‘Uncle’ Rooster, demoted to the rank of ‘longtime friend of the family’ rather than a core member of it. 

The thought of it making him feel sick. 

All evening he had been moving around like a ghost completely lost to the thoughts in his head, but now it felt like he’d been shocked by a live wire. He’d pretty much jumped out of the chair he had just settled in, almost knocking the beers in front of him off the table completely. 

“I want in, I’ll do it,” he’d blurted out, interrupting the conversations that had continued on around him while he had been spiraling. “This whole thing has been a complete shit show. I can’t watch this anymore. I know a guy, I’ll set it up. I’m in.” 

His hands were sweating as he hoped no one would call his bluff. He’d made it a point to actively avoid looking at you. You had such an uncanny way of reading him. 

“I don’t know, Bradshaw. You’re a little late to the game, aren’t you? I’ve been saving the best for last, and I’m ready to collect my winnings.” He’d expected some shit from Hangman, but he never would have guessed it’d come from Phoenix. 

Feeling his anger flare up, he reached into his back pocket and fished out a $100 bill from his worn leather wallet, double the original entry fee. He slapped it down on the table, leaving no room for any further discussion, “I’m the one setting her up for the next date.” 

He’d caught a look between Hangman and Phoenix, but he couldn’t be bothered to read into it as he tried to keep his temper in check.  

He wouldn’t lose you. Not to someone who didn’t deserve you, especially when he already knew the person who could make you happy.

“Alrighty,” Jake had drawled out, as he pocked the bill. “Looks like we have another player. I look forward to taking your money.” 

He’d extended his hand out and they’d all shook on it, reaching Phoenix last her grip firm and her smile sharp. And that was that. 

Now he was here at the new popular restaurant he’d heard you talking about a few weeks ago, his feet cemented to the tiles beneath him just gazing at you. 

He could tell from where he was standing behind you that you were nervous by the way you were opening and closing apps without truly looking at anything. He knew it was a habit of yours when you were feeling anxious, something for your hands to do as you tried to distract yourself.

He had sweet talked the hostess over the phone into reserving the best spot on the outdoor terrace, and you looked so beautiful sitting there wearing his new favorite color. Your hair is held back by a delicate golden clip on one side leaving the line of your neck exposed, the sea breeze picking up a few wisps.  It makes his teeth ache with want.

He knew you were gorgeous, he’d stared down enough men at the Hard Deck to know that others thought so too. However, he’d never let himself sit with those thoughts for too long, not trusting himself to keep his mind from wandering. 

You were his best friend. 

And best friends don’t think about how the other would look so perfect in their bed, that pretty green dress forgotten on the floor. 

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look under his arm.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look with his ring on your finger.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you are for him.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect he is for you.

Him.

It was a good thing he didn’t want to just be your best friend anymore. 

He’d already done too much thinking, done too much waiting. He wasn’t going to miss his moment. 

Taking one more deep breath, he made his way to you.

“Rooster? What are you doing here?” He was the last person you’d expected to see when you turned your head to see who had been trying to get your attention, “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Did he get emergency orders? Did your date get in an accident? 

Your anxiousness was quickly morphing into panic, you’re already half way out of your seat when he puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb stroking the skin there reassuringly. 

He is standing there looking completely at ease, as if he belonged there, “Nothing’s wrong, sweet girl.” 

And there it was again, you hadn’t been sure if your ears were playing tricks on you the first time he’d said it. That simple term of endearment silencing the alarm bells that were going off in your head, the edges of the lush restaurant softening around everything except him.

“Your mom always called me that,” you say softly. 

You cherished all the memories you had with Carole, the woman who had been such a significant figure in your life for so long. You knew your mom still sent Rooster a cake every year to celebrate her birthday from whatever bakery was closest to wherever he was stationed. 

“I know, I remember,” his voice so warm and deep, “She loved you.” 

He says it so simply, so sincerely. As if his presence here hasn’t just completely untethered you and sent you adrift in a sea of bewilderment.

The writhing snake that had made a home all day in the pit of your stomach finally disappeared, only to be replaced with the fluttering of wings that you were desperately trying to ignore. 

You’d been so shocked when Rooster had exclaimed that he was going to set you up with someone, your mind had been whirling so much at the time you could barely focus on anything that had been said in the aftermath of his announcement. Maybe you had missed some caveat he’d come up with for his participation in the bet? That could make sense, considering how adamant he had always been in the past about never getting involved in your love life. 

He was standing there looking so good in his best short-sleeved button up shirt, the one that was scattered with vibrant palm leaves that fit snugly against his body. And wearing the white slacks that usually had you looking anywhere else in the room to avoid acknowledging the way they clung to your best friend’s thighs and ass. If only he knew how weak they made you. 

There just has to be a logical reason for why he’s here, but the soft smile on his face was rendering your brain uncooperative. 

You were getting tired of feeling like you were missing something that should be so obvious, “My date is supposed to be here soon, are you going to hover in the back like you have been at the Hard Deck? Or are you just planning on pulling up a chair and third wheeling up close and personal?” 

“Why would I need an extra chair,” he asks as he pulls it out and eases his large frame down onto the wicker seat, “When mine’s already free?” 

You move to open your mouth when the waitress arrives, asking if you had your drink orders selected. 

“I’ll do the Bourbon Sidecar. You feelin’ like a gin, sweet girl?” You just nodded at him mutely, still desperately trying to catch up. “And the Clover Club for her, please.” 

It’s what you were planning on ordering to calm your first date jitters before had Rooster arrived and sent you into a complete tailspin. He hadn’t even looked at the thick textured cardstock of the drink menus that were strategically placed just to the right of the golden soup spoons on the artfully laid out table. 

The butterflies were threatening to break free from the tightly locked cage you had attempted to shove them in. 

The waitress took down the drinks, and you watched her as she crossed the patio pausing to tap away on the screen of their POS, trying to give yourself a few more moments to collect your thoughts. 

“Bradley. I don’t understand, what’s going on?” He’s sitting there looking so secure, so steadfast, so sure. 

His cheek ticks up, “I like it when you call me Bradley. Why did you stop calling me that when you moved out here?” 

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Why did you stop calling me Bradley when you moved out here?” he asks again, leaning in. How does he expect you to answer a question, when your mind is going 1,190 miles an hour? 

“I don’t know,” you start with a halfhearted shrug. “You’ve made a name for yourself in the Navy, you are ‘Rooster’ to everyone here.” You open your mouth to say more, before closing it quickly.

“There’s more going on in that head,” you feel his foot reach out tapping against yours under the table, before leaving it there a steady presence. “Tell me.”

You know you can tell him anything, but this feels different.

The intensity of his stare has you fighting the flush you feel spreading across your cheeks.

It wasn’t something that you’d ever given much thought to before, but you know if you answer truthfully now that he’s asked you it’s going to leave you feeling more exposed than you’ve ever been with him. 

You sit up more fully in your chair deciding to be brave, “I mean, we haven’t really truly been in the same place since we were teens, and things are so different now. It was easier to start calling you ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ like everyone else, because it didn’t make me feel like I was piece from a different puzzle trying to force myself into a new picture. I wanted to fit into the life that you’ve built here, to feel like I still have a place with you as you are now.”

You’re actively fighting to keep your eyes on his. It would be so easy to look away or to laugh off your confession, but for whatever reason, you don’t want to take the easy out. 

“I never knew you felt like that, but I wish I had,” the look in his eyes is softer than anything you’ve ever seen from him before. “I like being Bradley to you, I want to be Bradley to you. You aren’t just a piece to me, you’re the whole picture. You’ve always had a place here, exactly as you are you are now.”

It’s never been like this between the two of you. It feels like you both are saying too much and not enough all at the same time. As much as you find yourself wanting to sink into these intoxicating yet unfamiliar feelings, you know you’re still holding yourself back.

God, he is so handsome. You had been right, the sunset that was just starting was stunning, but the way golden beams were hitting the lightened strands of his curls was spectacular.

You’re almost too afraid to ask, but it’s unbearable not knowing, “Why are you here right now, Bradley?”

Of course, the waitress chooses that moment to return with the drinks. 

She sets them down in front of you, the skewered raspberries sitting daintily on the side of your glass are suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room. You vaguely hear him saying you both need more time and that he’ll flag her down when you’re ready to order. 

He waits for her to leave to attend to her other tables before turning his heady gaze on you once again.

“I thought I’ve been making my intentions pretty clear here, sweet girl.” 

He takes a sip of his Sidecar before continuing, the slight bounce of his leg the only thing giving him away that he might not be as self-assured as you’d originally thought, “I’m here for our date.”

There’s no hope of containing the butterflies now. You’re a lost cause. 

“Bradley.” You can only imagine the emotions he is reading on your face. It would absolutely break your heart if this was some kind of bad joke.

“He’ll never love you like I can.” 

“What?” you ask sounding every bit as dazed as you feel.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says shaking his head slightly, huffing out a little laugh at himself, “I got ahead of myself.”

You watch as he resituates himself in the chair, wiping his hands on the front of his slacks before restarting. 

“Watching you on those dates has been hell, I don’t want to be jealous of some guy you gave a second glance. I don’t want hold back, not when we can be so much more,” he reaches across the table, taking your hand between his two large ones, “I thought having you as a friend was enough for me, but how am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that I could be the one who makes you happy and then do nothing about it? That I’m the only one who can love you the way you deserve to be loved?”

You’ve always known he’s cared for you, that was unquestionable, but to be loved by Bradley Bradshaw? It was something you’d never let yourself imagine, let alone dared to hope to for. It had been kinder to spare yourself from the heartache that came with hope. But now? With him sitting right here in front of you saying you could have him like this?

Was this how he felt flying in his F-18 every day?

He gets up and rounds the table coming to your side, hooking an ankle around the tapered leg of your chair pulling you out a bit. You’re suddenly very thankful for the probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative for a first date dress you purchased when you see the way his rich brown eyes turn molten as he gets a glimpse of your exposed thigh.

He settles into a crouch before you, his warm hands seeking out both of yours, “You don’t need Phoenix or anyone else to set you up, because he’ll never love you like I can. Let me show you how good it can be. Let me be it for you, sweet girl.”

The man in front of you is everything you could have ever possibly wanted for yourself. And to be the one who could get to keep him forever? There’s no doubt in your mind, it’s worth everything.

You’re sure you will have to have a more serious conversation about what this means for the two of you, but that can wait for another time when he’s not in front of you with his eyes so earnest. So hopeful. To another time when he’s not wearing his heart on his sleeve as he patiently waits for any kind of response from you.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now. 

So easy to learn what that mustache would feel like against your skin. 

To learn how his lips and tongue would feel against your own. 

To learn how his mouth would move with yours.

But what’s a couple more hours when you’ve had years to build up to it.

“Well then, Lieutenant. I guess you better show me how it’s done,” you bring your hand up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking along his cheekbone. “But I’m warning you now, I fully intended to give you as good as I get.” 

Being on the receiving end of a Rooster smile was something special, but it had nothing on the beaming grin that Bradley Bradshaw is giving you now. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” he says as he lands a lingering kiss on your cheek before standing and pushing your chair back in for you. “You’ve always known how to keep me on my toes.”

He returns back to his surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker chair, stretching his leg to rest it against yours. When the waitress comes back you both end up picking your meals at random, having been too absorbed with each other to actually bother reading the menu. 

You’d barely eaten all day because of the knots in your stomach, and now you were starving. Thankfully, Bradley at least had the commonsense to ask the waitress to pick her favorite dish as a third entrée “for the table”.

It feels the same in many ways, he knows what to say to make you laugh and what to bring up to get you fired up. And you know what questions to ask to keep him talking and how to push his buttons just right. 

But it’s also different when he doesn’t bother to hide his knowing smirk every time he catches you looking at his lips. And it’s even better when you don’t bother trying to hide yours when you catch him doing the same.

Afterwards, he takes your hand in his as you slowly make your way to the parking lot, his fingers lacing between your own. He surprises you when he leans against the Bronco, murmuring something about not wanting to let your pretty dress get dirty. His long legs extended wide as an invitation for you to come stand between them, his strong hands stroking the silky material of your dress on your hips as you step closer. 

You’ve been ignoring the pull low in your stomach all evening, the tension between you two the most luscious feeling you’ve ever experienced. The combination of his heat, his woodsy smell, the headiness of his gaze on you almost too overwhelming. 

Almost.

Your hands settle on his broad chest, playing with the button of his shirt now a bit nervous. Your faces closer than you’ve ever allowed them to be before. If what you’re hearing is the sound of the waves or the roaring of the blood in your ears, you couldn’t say.

You know he is waiting for you to make the first move. You see the moment when he’s about to say something, knowing him the words would be wonderfully reassuring and perfectly Bradley.

Why would you want to talk when his mouth was already waiting like a question. Why would you want to talk when you could learn what it’s like kiss him instead?

So you do.

When your lips meet his for the first time it feels like the sweetest kind of devotion. 

bradleybradleybradley

His mustache scratching satisfyingly at the skin of your upper lip. His mouth tasting like the Sidecars he sipped on throughout the night and something that was just fundamentally Bradley. 

Your hand moves on its own to stroke the side of his neck, your fingers seeking out the line of the longest scar that adorns his skin there from that night all those years ago. 

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as he licks his lips before bringing his face down to yours again. Your other hand tightly clutching his shirt in anticipation.

He’s always been so in tune with you, so when he tilts your head just right before leaning into the kiss it feels like a homecoming. 

thisthisthis

One of Bradley’s hands makes its way up your back, pressing you closer to him as the other bands more securely around your waist. And when his tongue skims your lower lip, you sigh into his waiting mouth thankful for his strong grasp on you. 

Nothing your mind could have imagined would have ever come close to the perfection that is Bradley Bradshaw’s mouth moving against yours. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right.

When he pulls away, you’re both over fighting back the smiles that feel like have been permanently fixed on your faces all evening.

“I’m don’t want to call it a night yet,” he tells you, as he brushes the hair back from your face. His smile turning playful, “What do you say, kid? Wanna go get some milkshakes?”

“Depends,” you reply cheekily, “Can I drink it in the Bronco?”

Wrapping both arms around his neck you draw him back in towards you again.

“Anything you want, sweet girl,” he promises against your lips.

The next night at the Hard Deck, you entered the bar with Bradley’s arm draped your shoulders. 

His team whooping loudly when you pull him in for a kiss as he handed you a Blue Moon. They’d declared the drinks were on Bradley that night as they’d swarmed you both in celebration. Maverick pulls you aside to give you a warm hug, whispering “I knew you’d get here” in your ear before releasing you.

Now that you had let yourselves cross that line from friends to more, the pair of you are entirely too aware of the other. Never content to be too far away from the other. Your eyes like magnets, each seeking out the other to find them already looking back.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he has his hands on your waist. Nothing neighborly in the way his hands rub your shoulders. Nothing platonic in the way he rests one hand on the back of your neck, his thumb making teasing circles.

And there’s nothing friendly about the way you run your hands through his curls when he’s at the piano. Nothing neighborly in the way you slide your hand into his back pocket. Nothing platonic in the way you rest your hand on his chest, your finger tracing the line of his collarbone. 

It has always been so easy with him, even as you explore in this new area of your relationship.

You’d been orbiting around each other all night, when Jake yelled out to heckle you both about indecent exposure, threatening to call his cop friend if Bradley didn’t “get his ass over to the pool table in the next thirty seconds.”

He’d peppered your face with kisses before you’d shooed him away, laughing when you realized he had swiped your beer and had taken it with him.

“So you and Bradshaw,” Natasha states as she settles down next to you.

That makes you smile.

“Yeah, me and Bradley.” 

How could you have possibly thought you’d want anyone else other than him? You were a goner from the moment you’d turned and saw him standing there at the restaurant. Your golden boy.

You turn towards her, putting a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry that you didn’t get a fair shot at the bet. I really do appreciate the effort you all went through. I mean, Bradley would have had it in the bag anyways. But still–”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waves a hand, cutting you off, “We had a team meeting and changed the rules of the bet anyways. I still won, so it’s all good.” Her smile was nothing less than mischievous. 

“Wait, what?” 

“We could all see from Rooster’s reaction during that disaster of a first date with all the dogs that he was completely hung up on you. We didn’t want to wait for him to figure it out, so we decided to adjust the terms a bit to help him out,” she laughs at your clearly baffled expression. “We reached out to the cringiest people we knew and set you up with them instead. And then took bets on how long it would take Rooster to get his head out of his ass and go get his girl.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” The revelation has you bursting out in laughter.

“Yep, well except for Bob. His date was a genuine accident, bless him. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even bother reaching out to anyone. I was betting on Rooster getting it together before I needed to step in,” she explains while wearing the most self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Of course Natasha Trace had bet on him. On you.

You couldn’t wait to tell Bradley how you had both been so absolutely played by his team. 

You loved these people. You loved your life here in San Diego. 

“I’d apologize for putting you through all that, but it looks like it worked out well in the end,” she says knowingly nodding her head towards him. 

You’re fully watching him now as he bends over the pool table looking amused at something that Hangman says. 

Bradley looks up catching your eye and shoots a wink in your direction, a grin taking over his whole face. You already know you’re wearing a matching one.

“I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

Thank you so much for all the love on this one! I’ve loved sharing this journey with you all! Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone! 

If you want to know what happens next for these two you can check out my masterlist! 

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge!

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) as always for being the ultimate hype girl! 

Taglist:

@sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks @artemissunn​ @hey-assbutt35​ @mayempress​ @eddiemunsonreader @averyhotchner​ @caatheeriinee07​ @rileyanntoinette​ @lublycho

[asexualsinner]

More Ghoul Headcanons: Kitchen Edition

Mountain

Hides his snacks on the top shelf to avoid the others stealing them

Has to use a recipe when cooking

Likes hearty meals like stews

Is an excellent shadow, will assist any of the other ghouls or Copia when asked.

Likes to just be in the kitchen

Is the embodiment of a pioneer woman mom

Loves to bake

CanNOT handle spice

Thinks cayenne is spicy

Favorite food is chili and drink is tea

Favorite snacks are fig newtons (yes he knows that they're made with wasps, he thinks it's funny)

Carries epi pens on him for the others

Rain

Is obsessed with making smoothies

Isn't allowed to use the stove after using water on a grease fire

Nearly burned half the abbey down

It's fine, he prefers salads anyway

Do not trust this ghoul with a knife he will find a way to hurt himself by accident

Is just a disaster when in the kitchen

Favorite food is smoked salmon thanks to Dew

Fancy ✨bitch✨ that puts mint and fruits in his water

Is the only ghoul to like Kale

Has a high spice tolerance

Takes forever to do the dishes bc he'll play in the water instead

Dew/Sodo

Favorite snacks are seaweed sheets and Takis

His taste buds went "weird" after his transition

He can't decide what he likes anymore, spicy? Fish? So he decided on both. Sometimes neither

Loves to smoke foods, begs Mountain for dried wood flavors for it

Dew learning to smoke properly was heavy trial and error, some things were edible some were very much not

His favorite changes weekly, but ATM it's smoked veggies and tofu

Is a big garbage ghoul, will throw everything together on a plate and eat it

Drinks coffee but doesn't like energy drinks

Has moderate spice tolerance

Will try anything once

Surprisingly one of the better cooks in the pack

Is lactose intolerant. No this doesn't stop him. Why would it?

Doesn't need a recipe, cooks from memory or guesswork

Has everything labeled and dated

Swiss

NO spice tolerance

Tries to compete with Dew, Cumulus and Rain and it never ends well

Loves comfort food!!! Give this ghoul Macncheese or pierogies and he's happy

Can follow boxed instructions or strict recipes but tries to "improve" them

Survives off of Redbull

Doesn't know the difference between a chef's knife and a paring knife

Thinks bc he's a multi ghoul he can pull pans out of the oven without mitts - has been treated for burns multiple times

Hates doing the dishes

His go to snacks are gummy worms or jerky

Will eat expired food thinking it'll be fine - it never is

Is a 3am fridge raider

Phantom/Aeon

Loves pancakes, absolute favorite food though is fettuccine Alfredo. Has to be fettuccine noodles, spaghetti isn't the same

Has texture issues with food

Absolutely hates ground meats, the texture is bad

Has a sweet tooth

Is a surprisingly decent cook, can manage without recipes

Baking is beyond him

Mistook baking soda for sugar once and Mountain banned him from baking ever again

Doesn't like eggs

Is allergic to peanut butter

Favorite snacks are Oreos or rice crackers

Enjoys cranberry juice

Can't have caffeine - gives him headaches

Aether

One of the better cooks in the pack

Is one of the only ones that can finish the dishes without distractions

Is allergic to citrus fruits

Has an app on his phone to scan packages for ingredients

Will practically drink soy sauce he loves it so much

Favorite snack is cucumbers and Italian dressing

Prefers strawberry jam over grape jelly

Doesn't like seafood

Favorite food is deer chili - shares this with Mountain

Wears gloves when cooking to avoid cross contamination

Cumulus

SPICE QUEEN

Has done every spice challenge possible, downs it like it's nothing

Like Swiss, can read box instructions but don't trust her past that

Has burnt frozen pizza before

Favorite snacks are tortillas and ghost pepper salsa

Eats jalapenos like candy

Needless to say she terrifies others

Favorite food is homemade ramen - she begs the others to make it for her

Package ramen isn't the same

Likes to do the dishes and help out in the kitchen

Does need a step stool however

Favorite drink is hazelnut coffee

Aurora

Junk food junkie

Favorite snacks are Skittles and kettle cooked potato chips

Prefers vitamin water over regular water

Likes to make quick easy meals like grilled cheese etc

Eats at the oddest times, breakfast is 2pm and dinner has been at 4am for her

Leaves her dishes in the sink like a gremlin

Has been banned from eating in the living room

Gets easily distracted while cooking

If she puts her mind to it, can make really elaborate dishes for the pack

However she makes a huge mess of the kitchen when doing so

Cirrus

Can identify spices/ingredients after tasting things once

Is also lactose intolerant, takes lactaid frequently

Loves Korean BBQ

Likes differing temperatures (cold food that's spicy, mints, etc)

Loves blackberries and celery

Is a very good cook, can make most things after trying them once

Her favorite drink is bubble tea

Has medium spice tolerance, like spicy flavor rather than the heat

Would rather dry and put away the dishes than wash them

Has a massive sweet tooth like phantom

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Peony - Steven Grant x Reader

Peony (Paeonia) - Shame, bashfulness

Summary: A slight comedy of errors forces reader and Steven to admit and act on some spicy feelings.

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader

Word Count: 1790

Warnings: Reader is AFAB/Female presenting/has breasts, Steven being adorably embarrassed and awkward, use of "tits", male masturbation (non-explicitly described), excessive euphemisms for masturbation, discussions of masturbation, lots of kissing, making out

Day 10 coming in with some more spice! I love the Moon Boys and thought I'd give Steven a chance to ramble his way into our hearts.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are always appreciated! ❤️

You were scrambling to clean your flat as you waited for Steven — he was coming over to watch ‘The Mummy’ which, surprisingly, he had never seen. After your shift, you’d come home with the full intention of cleaning but had fallen asleep on your couch instead, only having woken up five minutes ago when he called to ask what you liked on your pizza. Your heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness as you gathered all the dirty clothes on your bedroom floor and chucked them into the closet. You’d gotten rid of the lingering trash on your coffee table, taken care of the dishes in the sink, and spot-cleaned your bathroom. 

Nothing like the panic-induced cleaning of a woman whose work-friend-turned-crush is on his way over. 

Looking down at your outfit, you realized you were still in your work attire — pencil skirt and fancy-ish blouse, both now wrinkled from your nap. You stripped off your blouse and bra and were halfway off with your skirt when you heard something ‘slap’ against the floor behind you. 

Without thinking, you spun around and saw Steven in the doorway, mouth agape and a pizza box at his feet. It happened so fast — you seeing him, his eyes glancing at your bare tits, back to your face, and his hasty retreat with a steady stream of ‘I’m sorrys” falling out of his mouth. 

“Wait, Steven!” you shouted after him, grabbing your discarded blouse and trying to chase after him, but he was already gone. You sighed heavily against the door to your flat, tapping your forehead against it.

Part of you was horrified — Steven had just seen you half-naked and not in the sexy way — while the other part of you was excited. Steven had seen you half-naked! Perhaps now he would make a move or, barring that, let you know he liked you as much as you liked him.

But that’s not what happened. The next day you saw him at work, you waved but he grabbed the phone, fumbling it and pretending to be in the middle of a call. 

When you were on your break, you headed toward the gift shop but just as you got there, you caught sight of Steven dashing around the corner with a box full of stuffed Basts. 

By the time your shift was over, you’d had enough. You strode up to the gift shop counter, trapping him behind it. He had the temerity to look scared of you, so you softened your approach and spoke quietly so none of the people milling about would hear you.

“Look, Steven, you saw my tits, big whoop,” you said, “I’m not mad at you or anything, there’s no need to avoid me. We’re still friends, yeah?” 

He ran a hand through his thick curls and sighed. “‘M sorry, course we’re still friends. I just…I wasn’t expecting…those when I walked in.” He gestured to your chest and you laughed.

You playfully punched him in the shoulder, “Well, I hope you learned a lesson about knocking next time. And, hey, thanks for the pizza.” 

He laughed and the tension between you evaporated. It had always been like that with Steven - easy going, honest, like nothing was too complicated that you couldn’t laugh your way out of. 

“You still haven’t seen The Mummy and we need to remedy that as soon as possible,” you said semi-seriously. 

“Tell ya what,” he said, “Why don’t you come to mine tonight and we’ll watch it. You bring the pizza this time.” 

“It’s a da- plan.” You stopped yourself before you could say ‘date.’ 

_____

In your excitement for the evening’s activities, you ended up being about ten minutes early to Steven’s flat. He’d texted you his front door code and said he’d leave his door open since you’d be coming with your hands full. Half-jokingly, you knocked softly on the door before letting yourself in. 

Steven’s flat was unlike yours in that it was one big room divided by his overstuffed bookshelves and piles of even more books. The only room with a door was the bathroom, and that was little more than a curtain. You were surprised you didn’t immediately see him, but you heard a grunt coming from the bedroom area. 

You put the pizza on the kitchen table then made your way toward the noise. 

When you got closer, you saw Steven was facing away from you on the far side of his bed. He looked to be stroking something in his lap—oh. 

Oh.

You didn’t manage to silence your gasp when you realized what he was doing, and he jumped up in shock, yanking his gray sweatpants up so you didn’t see anything. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh, God, sorry!” you said, covering your eyes. In your haste to turn away, you managed to smack your elbow into the corner of one of his bookshelves. Pain shot down your forearm because of course you’d managed to hit your funny bone. You gripped it, hissing at the pain with your eyes closed and tripping over one of the book piles and ending up splayed out on the floor.

Steven cried your name and dashed over, helping you sit up and checking you for injuries. He helped you stand up, making sure you were steady before taking a step back. 

“I didn’t see anything,” you insisted, crouching down to help him pick up the books you knocked over. 

“You don’t have to-” 

“I knocked, I swear!” 

“Please, don’t worry-” 

“I’m so sorry, Steven,” you said, looking up from the small stack of books you’d balanced on your knees. His brow was furrowed, cheeks red with embarrassment. 

“No, love, I’m sorry. I knew you were on your way but I couldn’t help myself. Not like it’s an ongoing issue, like compulsive or anything, but I couldn’t help but remember yesterday and, well,” he paused, gesturing toward your chest again, “and I didn’t want to greet you at the door with a raging hard-on so I thought I’d just, y’know, take care of it real quick but then you walked in and now I’m…rambling. Here, I’ll take those.” 

He reached for the books you were holding and you handed them off. He set them on a different stack a few steps away and rubbed the back of his head, facing away from you again. 

“Wait,” you said, brain finally catching up with what he was saying, “You…you were thinking about me? While you were…shining your statue?”

Steven let out a bark of nervous laughter, “Shining my statue?”

“Yeah, you know, shining the statue, flogging the dolphin, spanking the monkey, playing with the one-eyed snake, having a me-some.” 

You both burst out laughing at that. When you calmed down, he was shaking his head in disbelief while he fiddled with the too-long sleeves of his jumper. 

“So um, I brought pizza,” you said, motioning to the kitchen table, “if you still want to watch the movie. But if you’d rather I go, I totally get it.” 

“No!” he blurted, one hand reaching out to catch you even though you hadn’t moved an inch. “Let’s watch the movie, yeah?”

The two of you moved in sync, gathering plates and the pizza before settling on his bed, his laptop between you as he queued up the movie. You ate in companionable silence until Evie was bargaining for Rick’s life in the prison when Steven hit the spacebar and paused it. 

You turned to him to find him already looking at you. The look in his eyes was sheepish, as if he didn’t want to say something but knew he had to. Your nerves kicked in — was all of this a bigger deal than you thought? Had he been stewing on it? Your instinct was to diffuse tension with humor but, as you’d been told by more than one ex, sometimes it felt like you didn’t take things seriously as you should. 

“What’s up?” you asked. 

“I, uh, I didn’t answer your question.” 

You tilted your head, confused. “What question?” 

“About thinking about you while I, uh, wank.” 

“Oh,” 

“Cuz I do. Think about you. Not that I see you as just a sexual object, I think you’re absolutely brilliant but you’re also dead sexy and after what happened at yours it’s like I, I can’t get you out of my head so I thought avoiding you would make it go away but that just made my massive crush on you way worse-” 

He wasn’t just rambling, he was rambling about how much he liked you — how he stroked himself to the thought of you and thought you were brilliant and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. But the most important part was that he had a crush on you, too. 

You cut him off with a kiss, having heard more than enough.

Gentle at first, allowing him plenty of room to pull away if he wanted, but he pressed his lips against yours instead. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your neck, the other sliding around your waist. 

You brushed your tongue against his lower lip and he opened for you, licking into your mouth in a way that made you clench around nothing. Fuck — you had caught him fucking his fist to the thought of you half-naked. That thought plus his hand wandering under the hem of your t-shirt had you incredibly wet, almost dripping. 

Eventually, you came up for air. Steven looked gorgeous, lips slightly swollen from kissing and his blissed-out expression. You wondered what he looked like as he came, a smile forming on your face as you realized you would find out if you kept going. 

“Whatcha smilin’ about?” he asked, running a hand over your hair and letting it rest on your cheek. You turned your head and kissed his palm as an answer, then moved to the sensitive skin of his wrist. 

“You,” you replied simply. 

“C’mere,” he said, his hand on your hips pulling you over so you were straddling his lap. He sat up and kissed you again, hungrier this time, his hands roaming freely along your back, over your breasts, along your arms. His lips left yours and he kissed along your jaw, down your neck. Heat spread from every point of contact, leaving you wanting more but not without a little teasing first. 

“Steven,” you whined, “what about the movie?” 

“Sod the fucking movie,” he growled against your neck, one hand reaching over to slam his laptop shut and coming back to rest on your ass, pulling you against him. 

“Gonna show you what I’ve wanted to do to ya since we met,” he promised, and you bit your lip to keep from beaming at him.

[creepypasta65]

i really wanna know the creeps’ spice tolerance and why!! thank you! :3

Thanks for the question!

The Creeps' Spice Tolerance:

Low Tolerance:

Toby, Tim (MH) and Brian (MH):

They never really grew up eating spicy food, so they never got used to it. Also, Toby was raised eating German food, which is mostly not spicy, and he finds pepper to be spicy. Whenever Tim eats spicy food, it gives him a tummy ache. Brian also gets sick from eating spicy food.

High Tolerance:

Helen (BP), Ben, Jeff and Jane:

Helen was raised eating Asian cuisine, often having spicy dishes, which helped him build a spice tolerance. Helen eats spicy Buldak noodles like it's nothing. Ben can surprisingly handle Buldak noodles and spicy chips. Jeff has eaten Takis and Hot Cheetos since he was a kid and poured hot sauce on everything he eats. Jane loves spicy food and eats her sushi with a lot of wasabis.

Have a nice day/night :)

[prying-pandora666]

The Gaang’s Favorite Foods

Aang is an ovo-lacto vegetarian. He still consumes milk and eggs, just nothing that requires killing an animal. Being more used to getting nutrients from a variety of plant foods including nuts and seeds, supported by nutrient rich bison milk and whatever eggs they eat in this world, Aang’s diet is surprisingly diverse and not as restrictive as it first seems. People have and still do eat this way. He loves egg tarts!

Sokka is a growing teen boy, used to a high-fat diet of primarily fish, mollusks, large ruminants, marine mammals (and their blubber), full fat milk, eggs, blood, etc, and only minorly supported by additional foods like seaweed, berries, tubers, perhaps the occasional imported flour or rice. He is going to need a LOT of animal meat and fat. Especially organs. The cookbook says he loves dried salmon collars.

Katara is also a growing teen girl, and considering what starts for girls around her age, she probably also has higher iron requirements. Heme-iron (from meat) is the most easily absorbed, and if it’s what her body is accustomed to, I imagine there’s going to be a lot of cravings there too. It’s possible she slowly converted to a vegetarian diet eventually, but there isn’t actually anything in canon to say that Katara and Aang didn’t just maintain different diets. The comics and cookbook say she likes soups and stews including sea prunes which are actually a type of mollusk.

Toph comes from a wealthy family. Although most of the Earth Kingdom relies primarily on staple grains (rice mainly, but also others), she likely had a decently diverse diet compared to others. Including plenty of meat (beef, chicken, duck, pork), a variety of vegetables, and even luxury items like refined sugar. According to the cookbook, she doesn’t like to eat her vegetables, which implies she had open access to meat for most of her life. She is fond of tea eggs.

Zuko comes from the wealthiest nation which is also in a tropical climate. He’d have access to a plethora of fruits the others had never even heard of! Tropical fruits, berries, coconut, and all the different dishes you can make with them. The nutrient-rich volcanic soil would also lend itself to farming, giving this country plenty of fresh vegetables and staple grains. However, culturally they seem to be a meat and seafood loving people, and spiciness is critical! Being a prince, Zuko would have even more access to all of the above than the common person. According to the cookbook, his favorite snack is sizzle-crisps which is basically fried and seasoned pork belly. He also sneaks Komodo-chicken to his uncle in prison.

BONUS:

Azula, like Zuko, is royalty in a nation blessed with great diversity of fruits, meat, seafood, and fresh veggies. We know she attended a harsh military academy which puts its students through rigorous survival training. Azula knows how to live off the land and likely can survive off of whatever petty things she can forage or catch. But being royalty, she is more accustomed to having whatever she desires prepared for her. She seems to have a bit of a sweet tooth, which can happen when you give a teen unfettered access to luxury goods like sugar. With her nation’s relatively advanced stage of industrialization, certain more processed foods and desserts are available to her. She is fond of cherries and in the comics she is a fiend for mochi!

[realityinsuspense]

one step closer | chapter 3: a broken bowl

--summary: "me and him? in one apartment? yeah, right. nothing is going to happen." ~~ two strangers living together. not talking and just going about each other’s lives. that was your plan. that’s how you’ve always done things, and you’ve gone far doing so. so when you have to suddenly move into a new apartment with your new roommate, you expect almost nothing. almost.

--pairing: mingi x fem!reader

--genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, a little angst, #mingi is cold and standoffish, #eventual mutual pining

--a/n: hey all!! sorry for the slowest update in the world ahfdkafkdj but here is chapter 3! enjoy, and if u would like to be part of the tag list pls let me know :) i just started one hehe

words: 5.2k

~

chapter 3: a broken bowl

Life at the apartment continued on as usual. With the now split chores and clear communication between one another, you and Mingi settled back into that routine. And it was great! Peaceful—just how you liked it. And you’re sure Mingi liked too.

It was Wednesday evening. You were back at the apartment after another busy day of work and you were absolutely exhausted. You were also starving as well, so you headed to the kitchen to prepare an easy meal for dinner: instant ramen—the spicy kind. The thought immediately made you salivate. As you gathered two packs of Indomie from the pantry, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket: an incoming call from Hongjoong.

It’s been a while since he’s last called you, and you missed him, mentally noting that you had to get lunch with him soon. It was an easy decision—you wanted to talk with your best friend. But before pressing the green answer button, you glanced at Mingi’s door from the kitchen. He’s home early today surprisingly. Knowing he’s behind that door and could possibly enter the kitchen at any moment, you quickly run to your room and grab your headphones; you wanted your conversation to only be heard by you of course.

You pressed the button, and you were greeted excitedly by your best friend.

“Did you get San’s invite to his birthday party?” Hongjoong asked immediately. You grabbed a big pot and filled it with water.

“Yes. Trust me, the amount of times I’ve heard about this party already,” You smile to yourself and adjusted your headphones.

“Ah, this guy…I am looking forward to his birthday nonetheless,” You could tell Hongjoong is also smiling on the other end. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him too.”

Funnily enough, Hongjoong was also friends with San and Yeosang. He happened to attend the same University as the best friend duo, where they were all classmates for four years. It was only a coincidence that you all so happened to become friends. What a small world, you remind yourself.

“Oh you know San, he’s doing great! Yeosang too…And what about you? How’s your friend?” You teased. The last time you spoke with your best friend, he admitted he was slowly developing a crush on his long time neighbor. It excited you—romance gossip was always the best. You couldn’t help it, as a hopeless romantic yourself.

“Oh stop! Nothing much has been happening,” He laughed . “But I would say, we’ve been talking more and more.”

“What if you invite him to San’s?” You suggested. “I would love to meet him.”

“Ahh, yeah, but I think it’s maybe too soon for that,” Hongjoong said. “But I do want you to meet him one day. He’s great…”

“I can’t wait!” You exclaim. The water on the stove is boiling now, so you dump your noodles in and start separating the packets of seasoning.

“Well, what about you? How’s your life these days?” Hongjoong’s voice rings through your headphones as you carefully stir in the noodles.

“It’s been going good,” You chirp. “Nothing much going on either.”

“Hmmm…how is your roommate by the way? You haven’t told me much, except that he’s a mess.” He chuckles.

“Well that situation has been fixed, but honestly…” You ponder this. How is Mingi?

Ever since the chores incident, life at the apartment has been sailing smoothly again. In fact, you might even think the conversation even improved the atmosphere of the apartment. It felt a little bit more comfortable living there. Moving pasts the silence and nods, you guys now greet each other with a “hello” or “good night” here and there. The air feels less awkward and less tense. Both your schedules still work out, except you notice that recently, he’s been coming and staying home earlier than his previous hours…But you don’t think about it too much. You guys still manage to work it out! Again, you guys still keep to yourselves. Everything is still separate and unknown. Strangers, but not really strangers. Unraveled mysteries. Roommates. That’s what it feels like.

“He’s okay. We really don’t talk much though. We kinda just focus on our own things, you know?”

“Mmm…” You hear Hongjoong’s tone shift slightly. You could tell that it’s his turn to do the teasing now. “That sounds so boring!”

“Hey!” You chuckle. You turn the stove off to the perfectly cooked noodles. “It’s fine by me. I’m just here to live okay.”

Now, where is that strainer?

“Interesting,” Hongjoong says. “So… is he cute?”

“What?!” You exclaim a little too loudly after opening up the cupboard above you. You spot the large silver straining bowl, all the way on the top shelf stacked on top of your other large bowls. Did I really put these here? “What’s up with that? San asked the same thing.”

Hongjoong laughs in response. “Well, you are a single woman living alone with a man. That’s like a couple living together, no? And God knows how long you’ve been single for. I mean-wait, is he single too?”

“I don’t know about all that!” You quietly “yell” into your phone, your voice a low murmur. This is the last type of conversation to have especially since Mingi is just a room away. You glance at his bedroom door again, happily still shut.

For some reason, you feel your face flush. You felt a little embarrassed at the mention of your almost nonexistent love life once again, this time a bit more direct. And to have this thought about Mingi? Of all people! It was absurd. While you loved romance gossip, it wasn’t an exception when it came to you. Now you were finding yourself giving this little speech of justification once more. “Co-ed roommates exist you know? Besides, maybe he does have a girlfriend. But anyway, me and him? Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. And even if there was ‘something’—which there won’t—that would compromise our contract. I’m just here as his roommate to live in.”

You gently push yourself up onto the kitchen counter, your eyes locked on the stack of bowls.

“Relax, I’m just joking,” Hongjoong defends, but you could hear him grinning like crazy. “But, I don’t know…shouldn’t roommates at least bond?”

“Bond over what?” You were leaning over the cupboard, with your arm almost reaching the bowl. If you knew any better, you probably would’ve gotten a chair to help you instead. But you were too distracted, and for some reason, willingly determined, as if you knew that it was entirely possible for you to reach such height. Your fingers just barely brushed over the cool bowl holding the strainer. What you should know, was that willingness did not always equal logic.

And your desperation for reaching for the bowl at the top shelf backfired. Your fingers tried to grab hold of the bowls, but the weight made you feel unsteady, slipping out of your grasp.

CRASH

“Fuck!” You ducked just in time. But the stack of bowls toppled over and shattered on the floor, a big pile of broken ceramic pieces scattered everywhere. And of course, the strainer lying on the floor as well, perfectly unharmed.

“What happened?!” Hongjoong’s voice rang through your headphones. You carefully landed both your feet on the floor, worried of stepping on any broken glass despite the house slippers.

“Oh shit,” Your eyes went wide after scanning the broken pieces—intricate designs of blue were shown throughout. “Ugh…this isn’t good. Hongjoong, I’ll call you later, okay?” He obliged, and you promised to update him. You stood in shock at the mess in front of you.

These bowls weren’t yours.

They were Mingi’s.

And you broke them.

A million thoughts were bursting and running through your mind. Why did I think these were mine*? Why was I so distracted? I should’ve known better. Maybe I’m just really exhausted? Ugh. No excuses. Oh he’s gonna kill me. These looked really expensive. What do I say to him?*

Hurriedly, you begin to sweep the damage that had been done. But barely just starting to clean up, you hear the sound of his bedroom door opening. Fuck. At that moment, you so badly wished his life schedule didn’t change all of a sudden and that he wasn’t home. But there’s no point in hiding. He was going to find out eventually; it’s time to face it.

Your heart rate picks up as you hear the shuffle of footsteps get closer to the kitchen; you painfully continue sweeping the broken mess.

“What was-” Mingi begins as he enters the kitchen. His relaxed face turns tense at the sight of the scene before him, looking down at the broken bowls. “What the hell happened?”

You jolt up and duck your head down in apology. You suddenly feel his eyes glaring into you.

“I’m so sorry, it was an accident! I-I thought that the bowls were mine and I stupidly tried reaching for them and then I..dropped them.” Your words felt pathetic, your body feeling hot with embarrassment. You gingerly lifted your head to make eye contact with him.

You were scared out of your mind for some reason, that same intimidating feeling returning.

Silence. You scan his face for something. But his expression remains tense and indifferent, his dark hair falling just above his dark eyes. It’s hard to know what he’s thinking. But there’s no doubt in your mind—he has to be pissed.

“I can buy you a new set, I-” You blurt out at an attempt to break the painful silence.

“Don’t bother,” He says coldly, his tone full of anger and disappointment. “This further proves my point. I know we live together, but we really can’t bother with each other. Otherwise shit like this happens. The chores was already enough, and now you’re breaking my stuff.”

The words slap you in the face, and you can’t help but feel silenced. It was an accident! You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t find the courage to. You would never break those things on purpose. He must be upset; they must’ve been important to him. But even so…

Even if he was speaking the truth, it still felt mean.

It still hurt.

Mingi picks up some remaining scattered pieces where he stands and throws them in the trash bin. You continue to clean up as well; it feels like you’re holding your breath the entire time until both of you finish cleaning the mess. You were ashamed.

After you hear his bedroom door shut, you let out a heavy sigh, feeling a mix of disappointment and anxiety. Your noodles have gone cold.

—

That entire night, you were fueled with guilt. It makes sense to be upset about broken dishware, but it’s not like you were completely ignoring the problem. Nor were you were trying to break them on purpose. You took responsibility, apologized, and offered to purchase a replacement. Yet, Mingi refused. You began to feel worse after realizing how well you two were finally cooperating, and that living together became easier and more comfortable. He even made stronger efforts in keeping the apartment clean.

The next morning before you left for work, because you couldn’t go on without action, you slipped a small envelope of money underneath his door. It was for the bowls.

Mingi’s being upset with you bothered you to the core.

Well rightfully so, you did just destroy a very nice ceramic set of dish ware. And it didn’t look cheap, so it must’ve costed a fortune. Maybe that’s why he seemed to mad.

It only makes sense to replace it then. Besides, it would be rude of you not to. It was a gesture in your nature and out of courtesy. It was something you could do to fix the problem. But you were unclear of what Mingi wanted. What could he possibly want? What could I possibly do to fix this?

And as you were on your way to work, you felt your phone vibrate. While you were expecting a text from Hongjoong (who you updated on the situation afterwards by the way), you were surprised to find a new message from your roommate. What great timing, you thought to yourself.

song mingi (roommate): don’t need the money.

Well that was fast. But the text made your stomach churn. Seriously, this guy is so blunt. You chose to ignore the message, guilt creeping into you once again. Your thoughts followed you to work, clouding your upcoming busy day.

“That’s weird,” Yeosang scrunches his eyebrows together. “Who gets that upset over a set of bowls?”

Once again, you confided in your work friends. It was lunch time at your guys’ usual table, and you were stirring the spoon in your bowl of soup mindlessly. You were relieved it was finally lunch time, because the whole incident and text message was bothering you all morning.

“Agreed, that was totally unnecessary,” San says, eyes glued to his phone.

“Just forget about it y/n. It was clearly an accident! You’re too nice for your own good.” Yeosang presses.

“Yeah y/n, don’t stress about it too much.” San added.

“But I can’t!” You groan and throw your head into your hands. Yeosang sighs seemingly in defeat and takes a bite of his burger. “I feel guilty out of my mind.”

Just when things were starting to feel okay. Just when Mingi showed some kind decency towards you, it had to go south immediately. Things were just starting to feel comfortable and at ease. You two were finally cooperating as roommates, greeting one another, and being accommodating to one another. It was a peaceful coexistence that has once again been jeopardized—this time by you. Who would’ve thought living would become even more difficult.

“Well, if you feel that bad. I think you should just get him the new set.” San says, finally looking up from his phone, his expression bright and gentle as always.

“Should I really?” You ask weakly. It was just the push you needed.

“You really don’t have to y/n…” Yeosang smiles his comforting little smile. “But we know you, and you probably will anyway.”

My friends know me well.

—

You head back home after stopping by the market after work. Luckily, it was still open, and you picked out a similar looking set—a porcelain white set, except with tiny green floral detailing this time. It was cute, but not as beautiful as the original. The reminder made your stomach sink.

You’re sure this wasn’t as expensive as the original either, despite the sales lady claiming its value. But, you hope that it’s the thought that counts—this was your apology gift. Whether he’ll accept it or not. You only feel right doing this. And it was your fault, so you wanted to take responsibility.

Despite your fears to face Mingi once again, you knew you had to muster up the courage to properly apologize to him. Otherwise, you both couldn’t go on living this way—all tense all over again. Disrupted peace. Awkwardness, discomfort. A step backwards.

You wanted to resolve this as smoothly and quickly as possible. And enough with the overthinking!

We’re roommates for crying out loud, you thought, trying to hype yourself up as you head up your apartment building. Again, you feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. Be more confident, y/n. You’re gonna apologize properly, and then he’s going to take this damn set of bowls whether he likes it or not! You’ve been agonizing in guilt for the past few days, so he better accept this apology!

We WILL be peaceful roommates again!

After opening the apartment door, you hear sounds in the kitchen and make your way there immediately. He’s home.

“Mingi!” You bravely announce, entering the kitchen. You felt a little stupid, but you couldn’t stand the tension. “I-”

But before you could even continue, your eyes land on your roommate leaning against the kitchen counter, and you suddenly feel your face grow hot.

Shirtless?!

Mingi looks up at you with a questioning look, his pink lips pouted. “Hm?”

Standing before you, was an even more revealing Mingi. Only wearing his signature pair of sweatpants, his lean and toned physique stood out—defined abs and muscles, and.. you tried not to stare for too long, but it’s so hard not to take in. The sight was…something else.

You feel embarrassed seeing him like this, but he clearly didn’t. You could barely make out your words, the courage and hype you built up all of sudden gone.

“I- uh,” You awkwardly say. “I bought you this for you.” You place the shopping bag on the dining table. Mingi approaches slowly, and you feel your heart beating faster as he walks closer to you. He peers into the bag and sighs.

“I told you, I don’t need-” He starts. ”I’m sorry!” You interject abruptly, finally making eye contact with him. “I’m sorry! I messed up. I broke the dishes. I broke our deal. As your roommate, it only makes sense for me to do this. I’ve been feeling horribly guilty, and I am really truly sorry.”

Mingi remains silent as he glares at you, his eyes unreadable. His dark eyes scan your face, and you hope to god your face doesn’t look as red as it feels. It would be even more embarrassing.

“I-I know it won’t replace the old one, and I know ceramics can be kind of expensive,” You continue on after he says nothing, spilling your jumbled words incessantly. “Especially the ones you had, which I’m sure were so beautiful by the way. So it must’ve been frustrating. I know it’s a hassle to get new pieces like those. And…and this new set isn’t the same, but it still has some little details on it! They’re green though—but still, very pretty! The lady at the market agreed with me. So maybe it can-”

“y/n,” He says sighing, stopping you. “It’s fine.”

“No! It’s not fine,” You grab the shopping bag from the table and try to shove it into his hands, taking a step closer to him. You look up at him now, his eyes wide—probably shocked by your sudden actions. Gosh, you think, unbelievably close to a shirtless man like this. “From now on, this won’t happen again. It was just a stupid mistake, I swear. So please, just take this as my apology.” You bow your head in shame and at an attempt to stop looking at him.

After a beat of silence, you feel him gently take the bag from your hands.

“My mom made them for me,” Mingi says quietly. “Those bowls.”

You slowly look up at him once more, suddenly taken aback by the comment. And most importantly his tone—a tinge of sentiment.

“You’re right. These won’t replace the old ones,” He says before you could even respond. “But they’ll do for now. I accept your apology, thanks..”

Mingi places the bag on the dining table once again, and returns to the kitchen counter to continue preparing whatever he was making.

“O-okay, yes,” You manage to say finally. “Thank you, good night.” ”Night.” He says without looking up.

A wave of relief washes over you, and you silently head to your bedroom. You were glad that he’s forgiven you, but also feel bad to know that you destroyed his mother’s gift to him. Now that you know that fact, it felt strange. Isn’t that even worse? At the same time though, Mingi didn’t seem too angry or upset like he was previously. And talking to him this time felt a little different.

Maybe your apology was so great, he felt compelled to do so. Anyhow, you were sure that things would get back to normal again. But your mind lingered about what he said. His mom?

We don’t usually bring up things like that, yet tonight…

You shook your head, deciding not to read too much into it. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

In your room, you glance at yourself in the mirror.

Your cheeks were bright red.

Great.

~

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tags: @hwaskookies @chicksmoothie

[live-laugh-legolas]

what are the spice tolerances of the fellowship? who snacks on ghost peppers without any reaction and who thinks black pepper is too spicy?

I was literally thinking about this the other day.

The Fellowship’s spice tolerance

Aragorn:

-He’s not great with spice

-He doesn’t get dramatic about it but his mouth is on fire

-The only reason he’s not great with spice is just not having it often

-He spends so much time in the wild; he’s not Sam who refuses to eat unseasoned food even in the middle of nowhere

-He is used to the blandest of bland food

-If he is served spicy food he will power through it because he’s too polite to ask for something else

Legolas:

-I will never give up my hc that he has literal grave mouth

-He will eat anything and be fine

-He might feel a bit of spice if he had a ghost pepper or something

-But he is less bothered by the spice and more just doesn’t get the point

-“why would I eat something that hurts?”

-He prefers to munch on poisonous berries he finds as they all walk that made Boromir have to shit every 15 minutes for a week

Gimli:

-I kinda wanted to say he isn’t good with spice because I could totally see him with the whole physical reaction to spice

-But he probably is the type to add hot sauce to literally everything

-So maybe he still gets real red and his nose runs

-But best believe he’s chowing down and having a great time

-Would risk his life for buffalo wings

Boromir:

-Surprisingly not bothered much

-Maybe not ghost peppers but normal to high levels of spice are fine

-However

-His mouth may be fine but his body is going to explode

-Don’t bother him about an hour later; he’s shitting literal fires of Mount Doom

-Send aid

-Never learns though and will continue to eat spicy food

Frodo

-It’s this one right here

-He’s the one who will munch on ghost peppers casually

-He likes the taste

-A ghost pepper is nothing to him

Sam:

-Not good with spice at all

-He gets all red in the face

-Nose running so much you would think the elvish river horses were coming

-He likes the taste; but he has a very strong reaction

-He would really like Flaming Hot Cheetos but it takes him a week to get through a whole bag

-And yes he’s crying the whole time but he won’t stop

Merry:

-He can tolerate a moderate amount of spice but he doesn’t really like it

-And I mean he doesn’t add spice to anything just for the sake of adding a kick

-He suffers through it a little but he does love Indian style food

-That shit rocks even if his mouth is starting to go numb

Pippin:

-I am indecisive about him

-On one hand I think he’s a sensitive little guy

-But he also loves to eat and won’t let some spice get in his way of a good meal

-So I’m going to rest on he is literally crying from the spice but won’t stop eating it; he’s hungry

-He won’t back down from being challenged to eat a ghost pepper

-Possibly needs medical assistance if he has too much spice

Gandalf:

-Nope

-Doesn’t even like mustard because he thinks that is too spicy

-Literally dies and comes back as a different version of Gandalf that’s how dramatic he is

-If it smells a little spicy he won’t even try it