#thank god i've been cutting my own hair for quite a while so i know what i'm doing but. so short

[outlying-hyppocrate]

OH FUCK IT'S 3AM AND I HAVE ROYALLY FUCKED UP

[pink-lizard-diaries]

Heyyy this is my very first FFXIV fic!

After reading around a bit, I noticed that most people think the narrative moves past the events of "In From the Cold" awfully fast, and I happen to agree. So I wanted to inject some extra drama/angst (and wolgraha) into this scene, because what else is fanfiction for?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Thank the gods, she’s awake!”

If Anzu was awake, she certainly didn’t feel like it. Her every sense was murky, sounds swirling in a distorted haze around her, the world blurry and dark as she tried to open her eyes. She ripped off a glove and felt for the scales on her face and the horns on either side of her head, then gasped out a sigh of relief—she was back in her own body at last.

Her entire body shivered and tingled, whether from the cold of the snow she lay in or the shock of her soul returning to its rightful vessel, she wasn’t sure. She tried to raise herself up a little on her arms, but they trembled and buckled beneath her, bringing her back toward the frozen ground.

“Steady, now.” She felt G’raha’s presence beside her, his gentle voice like a warm tonic to her addled mind. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “How do you feel?”

“Like…myself,” she mumbled. “I think.”

“That is well,” Alphinaud chimed in. “You gave us quite a fright.” He knelt nearby with nouliths drawn, inspecting her carefully. “For a mercy, you appear to be unharmed.”

Unharmed perhaps, but she didn’t feel well…nor entirely right, despite being back in the correct body. There was a strange thrumming throughout, an eerie vibration that echoed around her various limbs and organs. With great effort Anzu raised herself to her hands and knees, fighting back a rush of dizziness. “Is everyone all right?” she asked. “Did I…hurt…?”

“No one is hurt, thanks to you,” Alisaie cut in. “And you aren’t to blame for whatever that madman was doing with your body, so don’t even start with any apologies. I won’t hear them.” Alisaie flashed her a cheeky smile, but somehow Anzu just felt worse.

“I presume you heard Fandaniel’s little speech?” She glanced up to see Y’shtola regarding her with concern. “‘Tis good to see you returned to us, but we cannot afford to tarry for long. I’m afraid we have another primal to slay.”

Anzu noticed G'raha inspecting her, and felt his grip on her shoulder tighten just a little. "Mayhap we should give her a little while to recover," he said, looking up at Y’shtola.

"I've no doubt it was a trying ordeal, but she is unharmed and her aether is perfectly normal," Y'shtola insisted. "We could all use a rest, but we haven't the luxury at present."

While they spoke, Fandaniel’s words crept back through Anzu’s mind, and as she struggled to make sense of it all, a wave of nausea overtook her. She sank back to the ground and retched as her stomach betrayed her.

“Anzu!”

When she was done being sick, she realized G’raha was still beside her. He held her hair to one side and slowly rubbed her back as she coughed and took deep, shuddering breaths. Anzu felt an overwhelming rush of affection for him, and squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to cry.

Whatever doubt or uncertainty she’d had about her growing feelings toward him these past few moons were swept away in the tide of her emotions. She loved him, so much that she thought her heart might burst. She was sure of that now. But she didn’t want him to see her like this. Not again…

“She clearly isn’t well,” G’raha spoke again, but there was a harsh edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “I know the situation is dire, but we cannot ask her to fight in such a condition. We must give her time to—”

“There isn’t time!”

Everyone went quiet. Anzu’s heart pounded against her chest, shocked at her own outburst. She hung her head and made tight fists in the snow. Images of their close call darted past her eyes again and again, of G’raha and Alisaie cowering before their attacker—before her…

“I have to…we have to stop them,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. She looked up at G’raha and saw his eyes full of worry, his ears pulled back. He seemed as if he wanted to speak, but was lost for words. She tried to smile. “I’m all right…” No, that was a lie. “I’ll…be all right. I promise.”

The distress did not leave his face. He stared at her for a long moment, lips parted as if about to speak, but in the end he said nothing and nodded resignedly.

Anzu pushed herself to her feet, letting G’raha and Alphinaud steady her on either side until she was certain she could stand on her own. The other Scions crowded around her, expressing relief at her safe return and offering words of encouragement. Then, they began to make for the pavilion at Camp Broken Glass to plan their attack on the Tower of Babil.

Anzu walked carefully down the cobblestone path, watching her footing so she wouldn’t slip on any hidden ice. The strange hum throughout her body had finally subsided, like a tuning fork gone still, but her stomach still roiled. She felt rotten for yelling—it was unlike her. Remembering the look on G’raha’s face was nearly enough to bring up whatever was left in her gut.

“Anzu.” She snapped back to reality and turned her head, and there he was, as if her thoughts had summoned him. “A moment, if you would…”

“G’raha…I-I’m so sorry, I…” she sputtered, but he put up a hand to stop her.

“All that matters is that you are safe.” He appeared calmer now, but there were still lines of worry around his eyes. “Just…take care you do not strain yourself beyond your limits. Please. I…”

He paused, as if trying to decide how to continue, but it seemed the words would not come. Instead, Anzu nodded silently in response. She was still exhausted and shaken from the day’s events, her thoughts too jumbled to make sense of at the moment, even were there time to speak them. But the last thing she wanted was for G’raha to worry over her any longer.

His expression softened. “Thank you. There is more I would say, but mayhap it is best left until the current crisis has been resolved.”

She wondered what it was, but supposed she would find out later. She nodded again, and forced another smile, trying to make it genuine. “You don’t need to worry,” she told him, placing a hand on her chest. “I won’t let you all down.”

G’raha seemed pained, somehow. “…You never could.”

They resumed the walk back together in silence, and the weight of G’raha’s words settled like a stone upon her heart. Even after he had nearly died at her hand, his faith in her was as unshakeable as it had ever been.

She only hoped she could live up to it.

[halsinsbiceps]

A Great and Sudden Change - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 of AGaSC is up on AO3!

Thank you all for your love on The Dance of the Dryads! I had so much fun writing it.

Fic below the cut.

In the end, there was more bloodshed than even Halsin expected. After they regrouped with the others in the demolished courtyard and shared their plan, they reentered the temple to take out the leaders. Halsin scurried along with them in the form of a rat, sticking to the shadows and staying out of sight until he was needed.

Priestess Gut was easiest; Astarion was able to get her alone in her chapel and slide a knife between her ribs, and she went down without a  sound. Dror Ragzlin was more difficult, as the huge hobgoblin was surrounded by goblin disciples while he attempted to speak to a dead Illithid. The racket from the ensuing fight was enough to catch the attention of the remaining goblins in the temple, as well as the third leader Minthara, a frightening drow warrior who tore through the room with steely resolve. She managed to down Gale and Wyll with little more than a touch, then went head-to-head with Lae'zel. The two fought hard, matching each other blow for blow until Karlach ran up behind the drow and took her head off with a single swing of her ax. The githyanki gave Karlach a nod of approval before charging back into the fight.

They finally stood victorious, bloodied and panting, but alive. Shadowheart healed Gale and Wyll before tending to her own minor wounds. Enelya and Halsin also shared their healing powers with the others before they carefully picked their way back out of the temple, scavenging for gold and any other useful bits as they went. 

Outside the celebration had dwindled; the drumming and piping ceased. Many of the goblins lay passed out in the mud, but several still sat captivated by Volo's rambling attempts at a ballad. A quick cast of Sleep from Gale sent them into slumber, and the infamous rogue turned to them with a deep sigh of relief. 

"Gods be good. I've never been short of words, but I was nearing the end of my extensive vocabulary." He did a double take when he saw Gale and his eyes widened in recognition. "Gale of Waterdeep! What tides of misfortune find you here?"

"I might be inclined to ask you the same, Volo," Gale replied, crossing his arms with a wince. His face was mottled with darkening bruises. "But knowing what Elminster has shared with me about your adventures, this is hardly a misfortune for you, is it?"

"I - erm - well, no,” Volo admitted with a sheepish chuckle. "I heard rumblings of this Cult of the Absolute, and came to investigate nigh on three days ago. I am, of course, documenting the entire escapade, which Elminster will find most interesting, no doubt. Perhaps you might allow me to accompany your group, and we can share notes?" He raised a thick eyebrow.

“I’m afraid that decision falls to our fearless leader." Gale glanced at Enelya. "Enelya, this is Volothamp Geddarm, renowned rogue and explorer extraordinare. Volo, I would like to introduce you to Enelya, druid of Tall Trees and fellow adventurer.”

“The High Forest, eh? I spent some time there on my travels. Your circle was…less than welcoming, if I recall.” Volo bowed at the waist, doffing his feathered hat as he did so. A head of dark hair matching his extravagantly groomed mustache and beard was beneath, as well as a combed-over bald spot at the crown of his head. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Enelya. I would be most obliged if you would allow me to join your party.”

"Why not?" Enelya replied with a small shrug. “We could certainly use someone with your investigative talents.”

Volo beamed at her as he put his hat back on his head. “Most excellent! You will not be disappointed, my friend.”

They found quite the collection of alcohol scattered about, much to Karlach's delight, as well as some well-charred pork. Halsin was quick to point out the roasted dwarf alongside, and separated it so as not to make cannibals of them all. By the time they were satisfied with their pickings, the sun was beginning its descent into the mountains. They slipped away as the goblins began to awaken from Gale’s spell.

Enelya waited until they were well clear of the temple to approach Halsin. He had kept his distance since leaving the worg pens, but Enelya knew she needed to tell him what had happened in the grove sooner rather than later.

As they settled down on the riverbank near the blighted village to clean themselves and make camp, she steeled herself and made her way to where Halsin crouched near the water. He watched her come closer, an uncertain look in his eye. She stopped several feet away, outside of arms reach. 

"We need to talk." 

He nodded and stood, looking down at her knowingly. "Very well. Would you like to find somewhere more private?" His voice was low and ever so slightly suggestive.

Enelya shook her head as a flush bloomed up the back of her neck. "No, it's…not about us, Halsin. It's about the grove."

Halsin's brow furrowed at her words and his hands settled at his hips. "What's happened?" he asked. 

Enelya clasped her own hands behind her back to keep from fidgeting. "When we got to the grove yesterday, we discovered that Kagha enacted the Rite of Thorns almost as soon as you left. It was interrupted, thankfully, but…"

Halsin held up a hand to stop her, worry darkening his eyes. "Are the tieflings safe?"

"Yes, they are. Actually, a tiefling girl was the one who interrupted it. She tried to take the Idol of Silvanus." Enelya bit back a smile to think of the girl’s resolve, scared as she was in the aftermath. "Kagha very nearly killed her, but we got her out. We led them all to the chapel on the river."

Halsin shook his head and swore softly under his breath. "Kagha…I should have known something was amiss. She was all too eager to assume my duties, and was dismissive of my instructions as well," he said. He regarded Enelya solemnly. "Thank you for putting a stop to it."

She bit her lip before continuing. "I'm afraid there's more." 

Halsin crossed his arms and looked down at her with a quirked brow, waiting for her to elaborate. She took a breath before continuing.

"During our confrontation, Kagha directly quoted Faldorn's Canticle."

Halsin's brows furrowed even further, folding down over his eyes like a thunder cloud. "To suggest Kagha is cavorting with shadows is a heavy accusation, Enelya."

"And not one I make lightly. Nettie and Rath are looking for evidence, but between her actions and her words, I'm all but certain."

Halsin glowered at her a moment longer. She watched the muscles in his jaw flex as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. With a defeated sigh, his brows lifted into a pained expression. His shoulders sagged with defeat. "I believe you," he said softly. "We have been at odds lately, Kagha and I. She has been needling at me to do more to protect the grove and ensure its isolation from others. I believed she wanted me to exercise more caution when dealing with traders and the like, not seal our home away." He shook his head. "Why couldn't I see it?"

Enelya heard his voice crack and her breath caught in her chest. "I'm so sorry, Halsin," she whispered. 

Halsin nodded and ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking around anxiously. "I should go," he murmured. "If only to make sure the ritual hasn't been completed. I've neglected my duties long enough." He looked at her thoughtfully before continuing. "Enelya, if I had known…"

"You are not to blame for this, Halsin. For any of this." She began to reach out to lay her hand on his arm - her usual way of comforting people - but hesitated. Halsin's gaze flickered to her hand, then back to her face. She let her hand drop. 

He looked doubtful, but offered her a small, sad smile. "Even so…you do not deserve this." He sighed heavily. “I will go ahead now and handle Kagha, and make sure the tieflings are well. Please find me when you return to the grove. We have much to discuss, now more than ever."

"Halsin.” Enelya fixed him with a stern look. “You know that, even if she doesn't complete the rite, and even if she isn't a Shadow Druid…I have to inform the Emerald Enclave of what she’s done."

He frowned, but nodded again. "I suspected as much. While I have certain…reservations, I understand you must do your duty, as now I must do mine." 

Halsin hesitated, then stepped closer to her. “...may I touch you?” he asked. His eyes searched hers; looking for what, she did not know. 

Or maybe she did, and she just didn’t want to admit it.

Her heartbeat quickened. Her skin tingled with longing for the drag of his hands over her body; for him to pull her against him and never let go;, to push his damp, curling hair from his neck and burrow her face into the crook of his strong shoulder. She flexed her hands against her thighs, wiping the sweat from her palms. She tore her eyes away from his, instead focusing on the trees behind him as she shook her head.

“I don't think that's a good idea," she said softly.

Halsin immediately stepped back, much to her relief and frustration. She watched him turn away, hunching over as his body rippled with golden light. He fell forward onto his hands and knees. Fur sprouted along his back and arms, and in a burst of liquid light Halsin transformed into the large cave bear Enelya encountered in the worg pens. He gave her one last look before he turned and thundered away into the woods as the sun slid below the mountains, and she turned back to the clearing with a heavy heart.

She didn't ask the others what they'd learned from their own searches at the temple until they were gathered around the fire, eating what little dinner they had managed to scrounge up. Gale told her there wasn't much, but they did get an odd note from one of the goblins who believed it to be some sort of poem written by the same dwarf who had been roasted - one of the adventurers who had gone with Aradin.

‘A son of Selûne fell here in the dark below,

And we sealed his grave in her holy Glow

May the full moon never touch the stars once more,

May darkness never conquer the Moonmaiden's Door.'

Enelya read the poem aloud, her brow furrowing. “Looks like they found the door, at least,” she said, studying the notes in the margins. “‘ ...the moons turn…’ Interesting.” She held the poem out to Gale.

Gale nodded as he took the paper back from her, tucking it into his robes. “It seems we must return to the temple if we want to investigate this Nightsong further. But, I believe it is imperative that we take the time to prepare ourselves properly this time. The way this poem is worded, I suspect it will lead us to the Underdark.”

Enelya turned to Shadowheart. The cleric had already loudly complained about having been in the shattered temple of Selune, meaning it to sound scathing, but Enelya saw the flash of fear in her eyes. Whatever the reason, she remained the most knowledgeable about the sister goddesses and would hopefully be able to shed some light on this riddle.

"Do you know what any of this could mean?" she asked softly. “Anything about the Nightsong, or this puzzle?”

"No," Shadowheart said coolly. "And I don't intend to find out either." She stood and walked away.

Enelya looked back at Gale. "Well, that was helpful," she said, a tinge of sarcasm lacing her words.

He offered her a lopsided sympathetic smile. "We're all feeling a bit on edge tonight, it seems. Give it time, and once we are rested, we might tackle the problem with fresh minds and better outlooks."

The group finished their dinner in silence, either too tired or too wrapped up in their own issues to converse. Enelya helped Wyll clean up what few dirty dishes and empty bottles there were and retreated to her bedroll. Before she could rest, however, Enelya could feel the blood and grime from their adventures at the temple caking her skin. She slipped away to follow along the stream, climbing over rocks and roots to find a quiet, sheltered stretch of calm water in which to bathe and meditate for a moment.

She finally found a small pool at a bend some ways upstream, separated from the river by a fallen log. Tall white birch trees stood sentry along the embankment. Here, away from the noise of others, Enelya finally felt like she could take a full breath.

She kneeled at the water's edge and loosened the clasp at her throat, pulling her robe down over her shoulders to settle at the tops of her breasts. She dipped her hands into the cool water and brought it to her face, splashing and running her fingers over her neck and shoulders, sluicing the dirty water off her skin.

She caught sight of herself in the rippling water. Besides the streaks of grime running down her face, she looked herself, if a little worn around the edges. Her eyes were still the same dark brown they were when she’d checked her appearance in the mirror before leaving her rooms in Baldur’s Gate. Thick honey-blonde strands framed her face, as well as the faint tattoo that swirled in pale green vines along her hairline, down high cheekbones and a square jaw before trailing down her neck to disappear over the curve of her shoulders.

Enelya knew she was not considered beautiful in the conventional elven way. Instead of a lithe, willowy figure, her body was robust and athletic; her facial features were strong, rather than delicate. She had inherited her father's height, growing quickly in her adolescence to tower above her peers. It had often caused her grief in her youth, but when she learned of Mielikki and how she walked the forest, tall and muscular and proud, she began to take pride in her body and what it could do for her. As an adult she fully embraced her full, shapely figure and powerful muscles that allowed her to hunt and fight. 

And now she was going to lose it.

She studied herself a bit longer in the water. No gray skin, no orange eyes. No tentacles or gaping maw full of sharp teeth. 

...yet. 

Enelya shuddered and splashed her face again, swiping at her image in the water until it was beyond recognition. 

“Mmm, I’ve been wondering where those vines lead…”

Enelya quickly pulled her robes back up over her shoulders and stood, clutching the fabric closed at her throat. Astarion sauntered into view in just his shirtsleeves and black leather pants, his armor discarded back at camp. His pale skin seemed even more so in the faint moonlight. He smirked as he crouched to dip his hands into the water. 

“My my. Modest, aren’t we?” He wiped his face with his wet hands. 

"I was enjoying a little privacy," she replied. She pulled her robes tighter as a cool breeze swept along the stream. "Did you follow me?"

"Well…yes," Astarion admitted. He rinsed his hands and stood. "I saw you sneaking off, and I decided it was as good a time as any to have a private conv…I'm sorry, are you ignoring me or is something the matter?"

Enelya didn't answer. Her widening eyes were focused on the water, still rippling slightly from his intrusion. Astarion followed her gaze, where her reflection stared back up at them…

But not his. 

"Shit."

Before Enelya could react he was clamping a hand over her mouth. She grabbed at his arm to pull it away, her blunt nails scraping at the flesh of his forearm. He grunted in discomfort, then pushed her backwards until she felt her back press against a tree. She screamed, but his cool palm muffled the sound. She could feel her heartbeat spike as she stared at him in fear. 

"Shh," Astarion soothed her. His eyes were wide as well, but not with fear. If anything, he looked amused. 

"This is certainly not the way I hoped to divulge my secret, but it seems there is little on this adventure of ours that is going to plan," he said with a sigh. His eyes pierced hers. “Now, I am going to remove my hand, and you will not scream. Yes?"

She nodded.

He removed his hand from her mouth, but kept her pinned against the tree. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and Enelya saw the pointed tips of his canines shine in the dim light.

"I don't know why I didn't realize it earlier," she muttered. Astarion laughed, fully showing his sharp teeth now.

"Don’t be too hard on yourself, darling. I've been traipsing about in full sun, wandering through rivers. You couldn’t have known."

Enelya's eyes narrowed. ""How have you been feeding? Did you hurt anyone?"" she demanded. 

"Gods, no! I'm not a monster ," Astarion scoffed. "I managed to take down a boar last night, weak as I was. I usually survive on rats, kobolds, whatever I can get my hands on. These past few days have been…challenging, to say the least. I could use a reliable source of blood." He gave her a pointed look then, and her blood ran cold.

She shook her head vehemently. "No. I won’t do it."

He quirked a brow. "So quick to answer...but your heart is pounding so wildly, your blood pumping hard through your veins." His pupils dilated as he spoke, nearly overtaking the red of his irises. He looked…hungry. He dipped his head towards her neck and inhaled deeply. “Gods, I could eat you up .”

Panic began to curl through Enelya’s body. She pushed against his hold on her to no avail. Gods, he was strong. “Astarion, please…”

“Please, what?” he purred. He nuzzled at her collarbone.

She pulled her head and neck away from him as much as she could. Her hands fisted into his shirt. "I am a druid , Astarion. I can't let you drink from me. It would go against everything I believe. If I were turned, the Emerald Enclave would…"

"First of all, I cannot turn you," Astarion interrupted. He pulled away from her with an impatient huff, her rushing blood momentarily forgotten. "I am a thrall. I do not have that power. This would just be a favor , something to help me get by. Secondly, I can't believe you are still bowing to this ridiculous Enclave. They should be thanking you, after everything you did with those Shadow Druids."

Enelya froze, unsure she had heard him right. He couldn't mean Kagha, could he? They didn't even know about that yet. 

Druids , he'd said. Plural. 

But there was no way he could…

Astarion took that moment to pull a bag from his belt and dangle it in front of her. It took her a moment to recognize the magically shimmering green pouch she'd purchased in Baldur's Gate. 

Her Bag of Holding.

Her mouth went dry. "Where did you get that?"

"I found it dangling from a tree." He tutted and pulled it from her reach as she grabbed at it. "Finders keepers, I'm afraid. I followed you out here to give it back, but I've changed my mind, now that we know each other's secrets. We would prefer to keep those to ourselves, wouldn’t we?" He smirked at her, his eyes glinting coldly.

" My secrets do not endanger anyone else," she said. "How do I know you won’t hurt any of the others?"

"I beg to differ; your decisions clearly put others in danger in the past," Astarion hissed. He pressed his arm more firmly against her shoulders. "You got that druid killed . Why should we even trust you?"

Enelya moved before she even realized, his words stoking her insecurities just enough for her to summon all her strength and push against the vampire. He stumbled back, then grunted in surprise as she tackled him. They rolled in the mud, wrestling for control until Enelya pinned his arms beneath her knees and pressed his own dagger, pulled from his hip in the struggle, against his throat. 

Astarion froze, then threw his head back with a high-pitched bark of laughter. His white hair was streaked and clumped with brown.

" That was impressive, my dear. Now what? Are you going to slit my throat?"

"I will if you threaten to blackmail me ever again." She dug her knees into his biceps and brought her face closer to his. He grunted with discomfort, but kept his eyes focused on her. "How…how dare-" The words caught in her throat, so she grit her teeth and pushed away from Astarion.

He giggled anxiously as he sat up. "That wouldn't have worked anyway. You'd need to drive a wooden stake into my heart to kill me. I'm surprised someone so… abhorrent of the undead didn't know that."

"Well, you're the first vampire I've ever encountered, so forgive my lack of knowledge," she bit back.

“It’s hardly uncommon knowledge! Have you never read a book?” 

She glared at him, then sighed and looked away. Her glare smoothed away into a frown. “Look…you’re right. You have no reason to trust me, especially knowing what you know. I need to come clean to the others about my past, and obviously you need to feed. Since I’m not about to let you sink your fangs into my neck, Enclave or no, let’s just have it out with everyone right now. I’ll be clear of conscience, and you’ll be free to tear out any wayward throats we come across.”

“Ah, so we just all share our secrets and braid each other’s hair?” Astarion asked, flinging his arms out from his sides. Sarcasm dripped from his words. Then, after a moment’s thought, he responded a little more pragmatically. “Actually, it’s not the worst idea I’ve heard. Fine.” He fetched the discarded Bag of Holding from the shallows of the river. He held it out to her, but when she moved to take it he didn't release it. 

“Tell me what happened, first,” he said quietly. “With the Shadow Druids.”

Enelya looked away, chewing the inside of her cheek as she summoned the words to explain what exactly did happen. It all blurred together, as if it were someone else’s story of which the details she was simply trying to remember. Astarion waited, still gripping the pouch.

"They killed my parents," she said slowly. Her chest tightened, anger and pain duelling within. “I wanted revenge, and I got someone killed. I don't need to justify my actions to you, but…suffice to say, I'm paying the price.” She looked at him again, but his eyes were focused on his muddy boots. “I'm sure you already know exactly what that price is."

Astarion nodded silently. When she pulled at the bag, he looked up suddenly, still not relinquishing it to her. 

"Do you regret it?" he asked softly. His eyes held a strange clarity, a sadness that took Enelya by surprise. 

She held his gaze. "Only that someone died because of my decisions. But for going after the people who hurt me; who hurt my family?” She shook her head. “Never."

"Good." Astarion finally let go. Then he stood and held out his hand. She took it and allowed him to help her to her feet. As she steadied herself in the mud, Enelya winced and lifted a hand to her head as a dull ache throbbed to life at her temple. 

"Are you alright?" Astarion asked.

"I must have hit my head…but I don't feel a lump or any- AGH!" She hit her knees with a cry of pain. Her head began to pound, a cold sweat breaking out along her brow and a sudden wave of nausea washing over her. Saliva flooded her mouth as her stomach churned. 

Behind her eye, the tadpole thrashed.

"Enelya." Astarion crouched before her, his own face a shade paler than it had been just a moment ago. His crimson eyes were wide with fear this time. "We have to get back to camp, now ."

She nodded and tried to stand, but fell back under shaking legs. Another attempt resulted in her collapsing against Astarion. "I can't," she whimpered. Panic was flooding her body for the second time that night, now accompanied by the same wracking pain she felt earlier outside the temple. She willed herself to take deep breaths in through her nose and out her mouth. 

A pair of strong arms suddenly slid under her knees and around her back, and she felt herself being lifted.

"I've got you." Astarion grunted as he shifted her in his arms, but he kept her aloft as he clambered up the path back to camp. "Gods, you're heavier than you look."

She chuckled weakly, then moaned when another wave of pain and nausea hit her. She thought she could taste blood.

" Fuck ," Astarion swore as he stumbled, the sensations seemingly taking him over as well. A watery line of blood trickled from the corner of his own mouth; she reached out to swipe at it lazily with her thumb. "I think this is it."

Camp was chaos. Enelya's mind was too hazy to make out what anyone was saying, but as Astarion deposited her unceremoniously onto a bedroll near the fire, she could see Lae'zel holding Shadowheart against a tree while Wyll shouted at her. Karlach cradled herself near the treeline, flames bursting from her as she rocked. Gale coughed into his hand, then stared in horror at the blood coating his fingers. Volo was nowhere to be seen.

Above them all, the night sky deepened into navy purple. Stars were sprinkled against its dark tapestry, softly winking at her from the heavens. A cool autumn breeze blew and chilled her feverish skin. The wood in the fire crackled and shifted, settling down into the glowing coals. 

What a beautiful night to die, Enelya thought dreamily. 

As her vision faded, her only sadness was that she and Halsin would never get to have that talk.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

back at it again with the 2 billionth joker request 🤭 I keep getting ideas LMAO

after you made that post about him being abandoned by his mother & having a child of his own he can't bear (or bare idk) to leave I've been thinking about it for quite some time now, a scenario where the s/o is giving birth and once the child is here he cried with child 🥲

how dare you make me write this with my own two hands-

DISCLAIMER: This piece is accompanied by a section of lyrics from the song “Piece By Piece” by Kelly Clarkson! I don’t own the song, don’t claim to, and am not profiting off this piece at all.

piece by piece, I fell far from the tree I will never leave [him] like you left me and [he] will never have to wonder [his] worth because unlike you, I’m gonna put [him] first.

When JOKER gets the message that (Name) is in labor, he’s surprised his heart doesn’t burst right out of his chest.

He’s there within minutes, and he thinks he would have been there in seconds if it were physically possible. Nothing else really matters right now, except being there to see his child come into the world. This is the moment he’s been waiting his entire life for! He can’t miss it…

All he can really do as he crouches there next to his beloved, holding their hand, is pray that it’s an easy birth. He’s heard so many horror stories of births that last a full day or more, and imagining his darling struggling through that, being in so much pain, just to bring their little baby into the world, is like torture. Especially because, well, there’s nothing he can do to prevent it or make it easier.

“Ye got it,” he murmurs in what he hopes is a supportive voice as he lets (Name) clutch his hand. It’s his good one, just so their agonized grip doesn’t risk breaking the prosthetic. (He can just hear Doc’s scolding of, “You didn’t realize they could break your hand while giving birth?! Imagine trying to squeeze out a tiny human and see if just the thought doesn’t give you ungodly strength! You have to be more careful!”)

The other hand, what he’s always thought of as his ‘bad’ one, runs gently through their hair. “Ah, ye’re doin’ so good, my love. It’s… it’s gonna be jus’ fine, alrigh’? I’m ‘ere, an’ ye’re doin’ a great job, jus’ breathe.”

Breathe they do, in between wails of pain. Speaking of Doc, he should probably be here to help things along, but… Beast is doing well enough as a stand-in midwife. Much as Joker is thankful to Doc, the idea of it being just family to witness the birth of their child is more appealing to him. If anything goes wrong, they’re close enough that they can rush (Name) over to the medical tent.

It seems that for the first time in his life, God has decided to answer Joker’s prayers. Things don’t drag on for too much longer before Beast pops her head up to speak to (Name). “Alright, c’mon! Give us one more big push, sweet’eart, I think that’ll do it!”

“It hurts so bad,” (Name) sobs. “I don’t know if I can take it!”

Beast gives them a pat on the leg. “Yes, y’ can! Y’re doin’ great, jus’ give us one more push ‘n’ it’ll be over! Deep breath, ‘n’… push!”

The rest of it is a blur, and Joker can imagine that it all doesn’t matter to (Name) too much either, not once the baby is actually here. Beast, bless her heart, works fast — cutting the umbilical cord, helping (Name) through getting the afterbirth out, cleaning the screaming infant up. After their baby is delivered, it feels like the rest of the process takes all of ten or so minutes.

Joker stays with (Name) as they hold their son for the first time, and he notices that Beast quietly slips out to let the new parents have their moment of privacy. He gives her a grateful smile before turning back to his partner. He continues to praise them in a low voice, that they did so well, that finally their little boy Ellis is here, that this is such a beautiful start to their family, that he’s proud of them.

At last, (Name) gestures for him to move closer, toward their arms. “Here, my love. Come hold your son.”

Just those words, your son, are enough to bring tears to his eyes. Despite the fact that he tries to hide it, he feels so much, all the time, and a lot of those feelings are distracting or unpleasant.

This is the best possible mix of emotions he could be overwhelmed by. There’s some worry tingeing it all, but he doesn’t want that to ruin the rest of it.

He reaches down, both hands shaking, and gently takes the baby in his arms. All Ellis is doing is crying; with an air of amusement to his thoughts, he decides he can’t blame the little one. Coming into existence must be just as hard as continuing to exist.

“There’s my wee babe,” he coos as he straightens up. Cuddling this tiny life against his chest, looking down at this incredible child he helped to create, his thoughts suddenly turn to something else.

… His mother. He doesn’t know if his father was any different, but the little he knows about his mother is enough to make his head spin.

She left him, a baby, and he doesn’t even know how. Did she leave him on someone’s doorstep and knock, ensuring that he’d be taken care of, because she knew she couldn’t take care of him? Did she leave him in some box in the gutters, rain-soaked and next to the filth of London’s streets, because she didn’t know where to go?

Did she want him? Or was he just… a mistake? An accident?

Even if he was, people still manage to love babies who weren’t planned. Hell… he and (Name) didn’t plan Ellis. They weren’t trying to get pregnant.

And yet, he still loves his son. He loved this baby for so long before Ellis even arrived.

Now that Joker has his baby in his arms, looking down at this small person who’s less than an hour old, he doesn’t think he could love his child more. But he knows he will tomorrow, and the next day, and every day after that until he dies.

The thought of just leaving Ellis somewhere and walking away, never coming back, makes Joker feel physically ill. Tears are rolling down his face before he knows what’s going on, because his thoughts are a jumbled mess as he tries to make sense of his past.

How could she leave him? Aren’t mothers supposed to be the first one to love a person, even if it’s not quite instant? Didn’t his mother have some kind of responsibility to make sure the life she brought into the world was cared for, even if she didn’t have any good options to take care of him herself?

He can’t imagine leaving Ellis on a doorstep or in an alleyway or wherever his mother left him. He can’t imagine not feeling a sense of duty to ensure his child has everything he needs.

It wasn’t so black and white for his mother. That’s something he can understand, at least a bit; the little he knows about her is that she was a prostitute, a line of work that all but ensures a woman will end up pregnant, and a line of work most people look down on. It wasn’t as if she could just walk up to someone and hand them her baby and say, “I need you to take care of him because I can’t.”

There just… there had to be something she could have done, hadn’t there? Anything other than washing her hands of her child entirely?

He tries so hard not to be bitter about it. Those thoughts just run wild sometimes, wondering how she left him and if she ever loved him at all.

The bad ones have taken root in his mind like weeds in a garden, convincing him that she threw him away. That she left because she saw she’d given birth to a baby with only one arm. That she was disgusted by him, that she left him somewhere to die instead of leaving him somewhere that gave him a chance.

And if his mother never loved him, then who else could? If the person who brought him into the world saw something so wrong with him that she abandoned him, what could anyone else see in him that was worth loving?

The part of him that wants to hope pushes back with, (Name) did. They saw someone with a sweet smile, a kind heart; someone loyal and devoted who’s willing to do anything for the people he loves. They saw you and they loved you and they will love you until the stars burn into ash. And now they’ve given you a child to protect.

Whatever else his life will become, whatever similarities he shares with his mother, he will not walk away from his baby like she walked away from him.

He doesn’t care how hard life gets. He doesn’t care what struggles he’ll face. He doesn’t care what he has to do.

Abandoning his child just isn’t an option for him.

Ellis will grow up knowing that he is loved, and he won’t ever have to guess whether his parents wanted him. He won’t have to wonder if there’s anything wrong with him.

By this point, even Joker doesn’t know if he’s crying or laughing as he rocks Ellis in his arms. Both, most likely.

“Papa’s ‘ere, Ellis,” he whispers to his child. “I’m ‘ere. ‘N’ I always will be. I ain’t never gonna leave y’. I promise.”

This might be the only promise he fully keeps in his life.

But by God, he is going to keep it.

[kindlystrawberry]

hey ben :) if you're up for it, how about a platonic dylas and margaret for [ forehead ] a gentle kiss on the partner's forehead, conveying care and affection ?

different ways to kiss someone inbox game (accepting!) Hi, sorry this took me so long!! I've had a busy week. That being said, I've been SO EXCITED for this because I absolutely ADORE writing platonic Dylas and Meg, and I don't feel like I do it enough. So here you go, hope you like it!

"I don't need to be babied!" Meg protests, her own voice sounding way too nasally and petulant for her own ears. To be fair to her voice, her nose is currently stuffed with what feels like ten tons of mucus right now, not that that means anything for her overall health thank you very much.

"Uh-huh," is Dylas's response above her. His ear twitches with obvious annoyance, but otherwise he doesn't say anything as he readjusts the way his arms are looped under her knees and back.

"Will you just--" she tries to swat at his chest, but misses because there's suddenly three Dylas Chests swimming in her field of vision and the elf can't manage to hit any of them. They sway as he finishes climbing the stairs of the restaurant, and Meg is suddenly hit with a wave of nausea, making the rest of her sentence come out weakly. "Set me down?"

"Gladly." Dylas pushes open the door to Porcoline's room with his shoulder and sets her on the bed.

It's an awkward shuffle as Dylas tries to pull the sheets out from under her and then settle them across her shoulders, all while Margaret tries to shove him off. It's childish, she knows, and in a few days when she thinks back on this moment with more lucidity and less feverish haze she'll absolutely be mortified at her own behavior.

For now, though, her muscles ache, her skin burns, everything feels absolutely awful, and her head feels like she's swimming through an ocean of Wooly cotton.

She's also feeling absolutely horrified at the idea that she's forcing Dylas, of all people, to take care of her, that she's leaving so many people alone when they need her.

"I need to--" Margaret starts trying to crawl off the bed, but with firm hands Dylas presses her back into the mattress. His serious face comes swimming into view, messy eyebrows pinched with what she knows is a look of both anger and concern.

"Will you just lay down and rest?" His voice comes off harsh, but the worried pinch gets deeper in his brow as he lays a palm across her forehead. "Gods, you're burning up. Let me go get a bag of ice from Porco..."

"Porco needs my help," Meg cries out, though her voice is already getting softer as exhaustion pulls heavily at her eyelids. "Too many customers... he needs... I need to..."

"You need to rest. Come on. You're not gonna be any help if you puke in people's foods." He adds, with a grumble, "Even if that guy at table 4 deserves it..."

Meg lets out a whining noise that she's barely aware she's making, and then is surprised to feel a broad palm stroking her hair.

She just manages to glance up, and sees Dylas making the most awkward expression known to mankind. And elvenkind. And dwarven--

"Just-- will you relax?" He huffs through his nose, the noise sounding quite horse-like. "You're always taking care of us. Shut up and let us take care of you now. Arthur'll be here with Jones in a few minutes with some medicine, alright?"

She opens her mouth to protest again, but is cut off by a slightly wet sensation on her forehead. Dylas is pressing an achingly gentle kiss to her forehead.

For just a second she's six years old again, crying in Daria's lap that she's ruining their parents big dinner party because she got sent upstairs for looking absolutely awful, skin clammy and feverishly hot. Daria's sitting at her bedside, claiming that she needs Meg to lie still so she can paint her; A Study in Rainbow Fever, she claims she'll call it, her ultimate masterpiece. Later on, Meg realizes it was just a ploy to get Meg to lie still enough that her body could fall asleep. At that moment, though, it worked. And just as she was drifting away, she felt her sister pressing a kiss to her forehead, as sweaty and gross as she must have been.

Time swimming around her like thick soup, Meg blinks.

Dylas is pulling back from her now, the blush dusting his cheeks that always shows up whenever he shows any sort of affection to his family. But there's something soft there too, a sense of care laced through that worry, and it's the last thing she sees before Meg finally manages to drift off.

[thebramblewood]

Thank you to @venriliz for tagging me! I'll tag @thecrumblingisle, @sweetbeagaming, @cactusblossom, @simatomica, @10000dreams, @solarlemonade, @lotuso3o, @cinnamonferns but feel free to ignore! I know it's a long one.

1. What’s your favorite sims death? Oh my god, I forgot the running with scissors death in TS2 existed until @venriliz mentioned it, but that made me remember I once killed off an unwanted legacy heir using that method. :/ Don't ask me why I couldn't just move him out and leave him to his own devices. Anyway, I think death by cowplant is pretty classic.

My LEAST favorite Sims death is freezing because I had a really traumatic experience in the second generation of my legacy where my Sim Phoebe made the bright decision to host a birthday party for one of her housemates at the Bluffs in Windenburg in the dead of winter and everyone decided to start swimming and like three people froze to death, including the birthday girl. It remains a horrifically vivid memory to this day, lmao.

Putting the rest under a cut!

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Maxis Match for the most part. I find that anything alpha just ends up looking too out of place unless it's closer to the Maxis side of the spectrum.

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? If it fits their lifestyle, I'll have them work out/eat healthier, but I try not to interfere otherwise.

4. Do you use move objects? Absolutely, it's permanently activated!

5. Favorite mod? MCCC is obviously essential, as well as anything that makes CAS better looking and more efficient. I also wouldn't play without Sunblind these days! I can't get enough of those gorgeous sunrises and sunsets.

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? I think I got City Living and Seasons at the same time. I was kind of a late adapter to TS4 but fell very quickly down the rabbit hole.

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? I want to think I pronounce it like LIVing because I know that's technically correct, but I think half the time I still pronounce it like aLIVE in my head.

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Oh, this is so hard... If we're going solely on Sims who originated in CAS, there aren't really many options! Most of my Sims have been born in-game. I am really proud of Helena, and I think everyone can tell how attached I've become to her. Hmm, I need to make more Sims, I guess.

9. Have you made a simself? Noooooooooo. The Sims for me is very much an escape from myself, so I don't think I ever will.

10. What sim traits did you give yourself? I would probably give myself music lover, perfectionist, and socially awkward.

11. What is your favorite EA hair color? The lightest blond, I think? The one that looks almost platinum and isn't quite as yellowy as some of the others.

12. Favorite EA hair? That short choppy hair from Cottage Living (the one the Creature Keeper has). For a while, I was absolutely eating up every single variation I could find.

13. Favorite life stage? If I'm being honest, young adult. I find that my gameplay is most varied and interesting when my Sims are in that stage because they're traveling, meeting a lot of people, trying new things, etc. Once my Sims settle down and start a family, it's easy for me to forget places and people outside their home lot exist and everything becomes more routine.

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? Me, a builder? That's a funny joke. I'm definitely more in it for gameplay and storytelling. I'll do everything I can to avoid building a lot myself. I don't mind redoing interiors, but it takes me forever, so I try to limit how often I do that, too.

15. Are you a CC creator? No. I've done a couple very basic recolors/edits for myself. We're talking kindergarten level stuff. I don't really have the willpower for learning anything more complex right now.

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? Sim squad is such a weird term to me. I do still feel like a bit of an outsider in the Simblr community at times, but I also have a handful of mutuals who I've enjoyed connecting with, and it always makes me happy to see them in my notes and on my dash!

17. What’s your favorite game? The only games I've ever been heavily into are The Sims and those Nancy Drew computer games... I think you can guess which one is my favorite. But if we narrow down the franchise, The Sims 2 has a very special place in my heart.

18. Do you have any Sims merch? No.

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? No, and as someone who can't stand hearing or seeing recordings of myself, it would be a nightmare.

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? I've honestly wondered about this myself! I don't think it's really changed so much as become more refined. I don't make a ton of Sims, so I don't think I have an obvious aesthetic style. But my play style has definitely changed in that it's more storytelling-geared, which does mean I spend less time actually using gameplay mechanisms and more time setting up. My visual style (e.g. composition, editing, etc.) has definitely evolved a lot even over the past few months.

21. What’s your Origin ID? Going to pass on this one! My sister and I share an account, and I don't upload anything on the gallery anyway.

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? Oh, so many! I will download basically anything that sforzcc or softerhaze upload. My absolute favorite hair creators are simstrouble and okruee. And I've been using a ton of stuff from awingedllama and leaf-motif when decorating lately. But those are just a few that come to mind.

23. How long have you had a simblr? I only just started my Simblr back in January or February. But I've been on Tumblr itself way too long to admit out loud.

24. How do you edit your pictures? I try to let Reshade do the heavy lifting, but I also like using a few of these actions in Photoshop to make them pop a bit more.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? City Living because San Myshuno is one of the only worlds that really feels "alive" to me and I think it does festivals best, and Cottage Living because it's the complete opposite but the slowed down, quiet, countryside aesthetic is so serene and relaxing.

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? I don't trust EA to do it right, but all I want is bands and another super dense and populated urban world and more apartments! I would also never like to see another world inspired by an American suburb again.

[blood-and-wine-ao3]

Chapter 8 link!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48321235/chapters/147228001

A tattoo artist and his stressed father started walking out of the parlor, the avian priest nervous and twitchy, and the human artist masking his anxiety with an awful poker face.

"Tom? Everything okay?" Aimsey's voice rose from their station, worried tones threading their voice for the second day in a row.

"Yeah, fine, be back later," Tommy replied, but Aimsey didn't quite miss the shake in his voice.

"Y'know, if you need anything, anything at all, I'm down the phone and down the road,"

"I know. Thank you, Aims."

Tommy opened the door, pushing it for Phil to catch as he stepped into the street again. His body buzzed with nervous energy, the painted grin on his lips starting to fade.

"Tom, what's wrong?" Phil pressed as they began walking through the streets. "Clem's fine, isn't she?"

"Clem's fine."

"Tubbo?"

"Fine,"

"Bill?"

"Fine,"

"Niki."

"We both know what you want to ask."

The silence stretched between them, the sounds of the city doing nothing to relieve the pressure.

It felt like years passed until Tommy caught sight of someone with bright pink hair and it spurred his mind into speaking.

"How's, uh, how's Techno nowadays, Dad?"

"He's fine. Me and your mum talked to him yesterday, actually. He's really enjoying the Arctic."

"I'm glad, he deserves to be happy."

The pair of blondes turned a corner, walking towards a park as silence once again stretched its limbs as the third person walking with them.

"....This isn't the way to your place."

"Got a new place," Tommy huffed, opening the gate and again pushing it for Phil to catch.

He focused on his pace, left, right, left, avoid the dog shit, left, right, left.

"Toms, are you sure we can't talk about this here?" the priest asked, stress punctuating each syllable of his sentence.

"I'm sure. We don't want- people might hear," the artist cut himself off, trying to be as vague as possible in reassuring his father.

Right, left, tree root, left, right.

"Tommy, you're scaring me," Phil sped up a bit, walking alongside his son rather than trailing behind. "Seriously, you're freaking me out here-"

"Just wait until we're at mine. Please. Then ask as much as you want."

"Alright, I trust you."

Tommy tried to swallow the lump in his throat, lost in his thoughts as he walked.

He really should tell Phil before they got there. What if he reported them?

He's their father, he deserves to know before it hits him in the face. How are you supposed to break this to someone gently?

Empty Coke can. Left. Right. Left. Right.

"Tom? We're at the end of the park."

"Right. Okay. Come on."

Tommy took the lead again, trying to create some kind of confidence, to still his shaking hands, to quiet his worried breathing, to soothe his stinging eyes.

Again, they drop into a strange city silence, distant beeping cars and nearby avian wingbeats forming the backdrop for the duo's worried thoughts.

"TOMMY! I've been looking for you for so long and it was raining and I hid in a bus stop and Wilbur's breathing all funny and you need to-" The distant, familiar voice of a mottled moth drew closer, cutting herself off when she saw Phil.

"Why's Phil here? Tommy? What's going on?" Clementine asked, her usually upbeat voice solemn and stressed.

"Gods, why the fuck is everyone asking me what's happening all the fucking time? I'm not fucking Big Brother, I can't see everything constantly! Can you both just shut the fuck up for 3 seconds while I sort my own head out before I deal with yours?" The boy snapped, spinning on his heel and facing the moth and the man.

Hurt and worry painted creases across Phil's face, Clem's antennae perked in shock. Greeted with Tommy's face twisted by anger and fear, the three fell into stunned silence.

After an eternity passed in a second, the shorter blonde turned again and started walking, pacing quickly to the point Phil was near-jogging to keep up.

They streaked down streets and darted down alleys, eventually arriving at Tommy's dilapidated apartment building.

Tommy fumbled with his pockets, purposefully letting the keycard slip through his fingers.

Delaying the inevitable.

"That was- bad of me. Sorry." He stammered, his hands shaking so much he wasn't sure if he was fumbling the keys on purpose anymore.

"Should I- should I fly up? To check on Wil-"

"Please don't." Tommy said out loud. "You're going to- both of you are going to need me."

He grabbed the keycard, turning again. Clem had perched on Phil's hat, antennae drooping, and the man's expression was the same as before.

"Tom? Your hands are shaking," he pointed out, fidgeting with his rings.

"Yeah, I know. I just- Please don't call the ISAM," He looked down at his shoes, gripping the card with a white-knuckled grip.

"Tommy. Why the fuck would I be calling the ISAM. Do you have a fucking unexploded bomb in your bedroom?"

"No! No." He turned around again, tapping the card on the terminal and opening the door to the building.

They stepped in, each step suddenly an uphill battle, as the emotional concrete of Tommy's regrets filled his shoes and slowed his steps.

Between the thump of the men's steps, it was so quiet you could hear Clementine flutter her wing, all three terrified to make a sound.

Tommy's eyes burned as they walked up to the lift, pressing the call button with shaking hands. Phil faltered in his steps, unsure about what had made Tommy so scared.

The lift rattled open. As usual, it smelled like piss and mould, but Tommy wasn't sure if he could take the extra time up the stairs. The last thing he wanted was a breakdown on the stairwell. They walked into the lift, Phil tensing his wings off the ground and bunching them up so they didn't touch the walls, floor, or ceiling of the metal box.

Tommy didn't blame him.

He pressed the fourth floor button, and the lift doors closed. It started its ascent to the nightmare above, all three beings in the slightly rusty box questioning why they were going into the apartment.

After a small eternity passed, the lift shuddered to a halt, and the door bing-ed open, with Tommy and Phil stepping out of it as soon as they could.

To Tommy's resigned dismay, the door to Apartment 418 was parallel to the lift. He grabbed his keys, jingling in his trembling hands, and stepped across the hallway, taking a deep breath.

He opened the door, beckoning for Phil to enter. Clementine alighted from Phil's hat, fluttering through the apartment to stand on her vivarium, and Phil walked in, giving Tommy a look.

Tommy left the door open behind them, letting out a shaky breath as he slipped off his shoes.

"Dad? Would you mind taking your shoes off?" he muttered, his voice tiny and barely audible.

"Oh, yeah, of course-" Phil replied, taking off his sandals and placing them next to Tommy's. He took off his hat, placing it on the coffee table. "Isn't that Wil's rule? Normally you don't care."

"Yeah, but it'd make him happy."

"Where is Wilbur, anyway? Isn't he at work?"

"He's started taking night shifts," Tommy murmured. "Dad, sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Clem, stay where you are."

"Tommy, what's wrong?"

"Wil was on his way home from work about a week ago. I can't remember exactly, everything's a blur-" he choked back the lump in his throat, his eyes flooding with tears, threatening to spill.

"Tom," Phil asked gently, "Is Wilbur okay?"

He let out a sob, hot salt streaking down his face as Phil tensed.

The priest stood up, wordlessly crossing the rest of the apartment.

"No, Dad wait, let me-"

Phil opened the bedroom door, freezing in his tracks.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #147

Have you ever drawn or painted a self-portrait? Painted, yes, but only because it was an art class assignment.

Do you know anyone in a relationship with someone who’s old enough to be their parent? It's possible, idk.

Do you know any narcissists? I sure do.

When was the last time you spoke to someone in a different language? I read a quote on the screen while watching Dark (it's German) with Girt because he wanted to know how it was properly read. I tend to fuck up on pronunciation a lot myself because I overthink it and for some weird reason I've never figured out am also just very awkward about speaking a language not everyone here understands, but I did pretty damn good that time, lol.

When was the last time you took a picture with your pet(s)? With a pet, it's been a hot minute. I just don't like taking photos featuring myself.

Which shade of foundation do you usually buy? I don't wear foundation, even in the extremely rare occasion I put any sort of makeup on.

Have you ever dreamt of someone you barely know? Yes actually, those are so weird.

What would you consider your defining feature? Well, I'm pretty sure people are gonna notice my weight first.

You kiss: boys or girls? Boys and girls and everything inbetween.

What you wish your living situation was: Girt and I in our own place with the pets.

One color you’d never paint your walls: A bright yellow, for one.

A (normal, not manure etc.) scent you don’t like: Gasoline, tar, freshly cut grass.

One kind of alcohol you won’t drink: I will never, ever, ever put beer in my mouth because of my dad.

An actor you think has no business acting? I don't know shit about acting, don't ask me.

A food you won’t eat: Beans is one that people tend to not get at all, like I can't chew or swallow them.

An animal that scares you: Centipedes, especially big ones. They're very cool visually, but way too fast and their bites are legendary.

What’s the stinkiest pet you’ve ever had? Well Teddy and his diaper towards the end of his life, when he had UTIs non-stop. Have you also smelled a cat's litterbox? Especially when it's in your BEDROOM? God help Roman's shits sometimes.

Have you ever seen one of your friends get arrested? No, that'd be upsetting.

Do you put sprinkles on anything? No, I hate sprinkles.

How do you like your steak? Medium well.

Long hair on guys: yes or no? YES I fucking LOVE long hair on guys

Bring anyone dead back to life, who would it be? Steve Irwin.

How many siblings does your mom have? Three.

Have you ever met a mainstream band? I've never met a band, period.

Would you ever meet someone you met online? I've done it before and there are some more I would meet, even want to meet.

Is your last name extremely common? I mean, I don't think extremely common, but it's certainly not rare.

Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? No, it didn't even feel funny the first time I did it after living the vast majority of my life thinking I was straight.

What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? lol nothing

Would you rather donate time, blood, or money? Probably time.

What’s a pretty bird? All owls. Such beautiful, majestic animals.

Besides sleeping, what do you do in bed? I used to do literally everything in bed for years, I lived in it and it caused the muscle atrophy in my legs, but thank GOD I finally stay out of it as much as I can. Now I really just sometimes read or do ✨couple things✨ in it.

Is the last person you called attractive? I think my mom's very pretty, but I'm definitely not attracted to her, that'd be problematic.

What does your name mean? "Of Britain." So boring, lol.

Do you know how many people your best friend has had sex with? Yes.

Is the last person you kissed mad at you? No.

Do you believe teenagers can be in love and stay in love? Absolutely.

If you have a Facebook, when was the last time you changed your profile picture? It's been quite a while.

Are you a stoner? No.

What is the last gift you received and from who? Haha Girt ordered it back in like, October, but within the past week it got here: a Mira plush that Konami released that I casually shared on Facebook just because it was super cute and Girt decided to buy it immediately, lol. She's an adorable shiba inu with a headset that originates from a joke ending in Silent Hill 2 where she's behind all of it at a big desk with tons of buttons and levers, and it became a trend in the game after that.

What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25/h, proven unlivable <3

Is there anyone that you’re mad at right now? No.

Do you feel like different alcohols have different effects on you? Not that I've noticed.

Did you change anything on your Facebook page today? No, I seldom do.

How many significant others have you had in your WHOLE life? Only three that were even remotely significant.

Have you ever purchased condoms? I didn't.

Let’s say you had a baby with the last person you kissed? Not in our foreseeable future, it'd break my heart but I'd abort it because we are not ready for that and there's already an insane overabundance of children that need parents. Also going through a traumatic experience like pregnancy would be for me (I have a wildly strong phobia of it), getting it out, and then not keeping it would ruin me, I know it would.

Do you have someone you can spill your heart out to? Mom, Girt, Mazzy, and Tez I'm all comfortable doing that with.

Your ex shows up randomly at your house, what do you say? None of them know where I live, soooo that would be concerning.

Is there a person that you would do absolutely anything and everything for? No; I wouldn't kill someone just because my mom asked me to.

Does sex mean love? Definitely not for everyone, but I would only do it with someone I love.

What was the last thing you posted on Instagram? A picture of the Mira plush I mentioned earlier.

Do you consider yourself a nature person? Absolutely, but I wish I could spend more time in it. Hyperhidrosis is NOT fun and dehydrates you so fast with severity like mine, and plus my legs still have healing to do before I can be outside without a place to sit nearby.

Will you keep your last name when you get married? No.

Do you like fish or chicken more? Chicken, I don't like fish.

What scares you more: snakes or spiders? Out of the two, a spider is more likely to scare me. I love snakes, but I'd obviously be alarmed if I like, suddenly noticed a rattlesnake beside me. I'm still getting comfortable with spiders, though of course my FAVORITE spiders are the ones everyone's scared of haha, tarantulas. I'm more scared of things like funnelwebs, the smaller guys that have bites that will kill the shit outta you real fuckin fast.

Do you think that texting on a date is rude? Unless it's an important text, yes, especially early on when you're getting to know each other.

What’s your favorite memory with your last ex? Showing up at her house on her birthday when she had no idea whatsoever it was happening. Parents brought her into their room as a distraction for me to go into hers and just sit at her desk; her face lit the fuck up when she saw me, and it definitely hurts to remember, because that was genuine joy. I don't regret ending our friendship (it was already over), but I regret how I went about it.

What is the oldest online account that you still use? Uh probably my primary deviantART. Or Facebook? idk

Have you ever had Christmas carolers come to your house and sing for you? No, I'd absolutely hate that.

What country does your favorite band hail from? Ozzy's from Britain, Rammstein are from Germany.

What’s the worst thing about being male/female (whichever you are)? The prejudice that comes with having a uterus, add on that the government is super into controlling YOUR fucking body part.

What is your favorite documentary? The Meerkats from 2008, everything about it is fucking beautiful, I consider it a favorite movie beside TLK.

Who crosses your mind the most? Girt.

Ever got stitches? Yes, in my chin when I fell right on it and got a concussion, and then after my cyst removal surgery.

If Hogwarts was a real school would you attend? Because it would celebrate the work of a raging transphobe, hell no. This woman has LITERALLY said that it's her fucking income that is enough validation for her, I'm not engaging in a damn thing related to her.

Do you like fireworks? They're pretty, but I'm against their usage because of how often the remains just turn into litter, they're a fire hazard, and above all they can be a trauma trigger to people and even kill small animals with how fucking scared they get.

Is respect given or earned with you? I give everyone a baseline level of respect which will grow or shrink depending on you.

Are you any good with Photoshop? I think I'm decent, but I am absolutely no pro, there's tons of stuff idk how to do.

The political spectrum. Where do you fall? Somewhere on the left, idk my exact label.

Do you use a top sheet? No, they annoy me more than anything.

Do you know what any of your close friends did yesterday afternoon? Girt's my best friend, and Mom and I went with him and his family to lunch at Red Robin for Mother's Day. Neither of us had ever been there before, and I was really impressed, but way more than anything I just liked being together as a family, I don't see his enough, and I even got to meet his best childhood friend finally.

[dear-departed]

"We should try that." (Beelzebub)

I had fun writing this, give me feedback, please. I feel like it was okay, but it's definitely been a while since I've written anything smutty, so maybe cut me some slack lmao.

Beel being out fav tit man as usual

Warnings: Smut, just smut. Face-sitting, MC is afab, but no pronouns are mentioned.

Word count: 1.8K

Watching a movie with Beel is always relaxing. The constant crunching of popcorn takes some time to get used to, granted that not many people have a constant stream of it going throughout the film, but regardless, he’s very nice company. He doesn’t make remarks at every corner, he’s an awesome pillow, and he doesn’t mind your constant wriggling or snuggling closer.

Well, it would have been relaxing. It should have been. But then again, you should have known better than to borrow a movie that Asmo of all people recommended. Beel doesn’t seem too bothered, a little red in the face, yes, but part of you wonders if he’s even paying attention. His eyes seem hazy, a little glazed over.  

It’s not like you should be super embarrassed seeing this sort of thing around him, after all, the two of you had been dating for quite a while, and of course, as most couples have, the two of you had also been intimate once or twice. But still, this was supposed to be relaxing, not arousing. Maybe a part of you feels guilty, what if he’s uncomfortable and just doesn’t want to say anything? Or what if he’s grossed out that you would dare show him something like this? It’s not like you can just stand up and change it, that would be so awkward and... 

It’s not like, just porn, no, but it is certainly very mature. 

“We should try that.” You’re ripped from your thoughts by your dear, ginger-haired boyfriend pointing at the screen, looking down at you with a light, nervous grin playing on his lips, his face now a darker shade of red. 

Upon looking at the screen, you see the woman on screen straddling what you presume is their lover’s face, seeing as the camera doesn’t pan down that far.  

“We have done that, Beel.” You say, smiling nervously in return. And that’s true, he had eaten you out before, and truly, he’s a beast at it. It's like his jaw never tires.  

“You’ve never sat on my face before, though.” 

Something arousing begins to brew in your gut, while your heart also slowly sinks to your heels. Oh god, that sounds so enticing but at the same time, so nerve wracking.  

“Wow, huh... you wanna try that?” You ask, looking deep into his violet eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you see from those god-forsaken mirrors in his head is your own, red face, gently illuminated by the dim light of the T.V. 

His brows furrowed a little, his head cocking to the side. “Only if you want to. Why do you look so nervous?” Dammit, it’s like he can smell the doubt dripping off you.  

“I dunno, it just feels like it would be a lot different in real life than on screen. You know?” You began to fidget with a lock of your hair, your nails raking through it as a way to distract yourself from your overwhelming thoughts.  

“We can try it, and if you don’t like it, or if it feels bad, then we’ll stop, and then later, we’ll think ‘well, we didn’t like that before, so maybe we won’t try it again’. Does that sound okay? If you don’t want to, that’s okay too, MC.” He nodded his head once, awaiting your input. 

“Yeah... that sounds okay. I’m willing to try that. I feel safe testing this out with you. Thank you, Beel.” You leaned forward a little bit, taking his plush cheek into your hand and beckoning his face forward, to which be obliged happily, placing one hand on the back of your head and the other hand on your waist. 

He brought your back to the floor slowly, the control that he had to lower and raise you as if you were nothing to him was absolutely impeccable. His large hand that was placed on your waist made a slow trip up and down your side, before two of his fingers lovingly fiddled with the waistband of your pants, slowly wiggling them down your hips. 

As he did this, his lips latched onto your, caught in a passionate, popcorn-flavored kiss, the faint taste of whatever soda the two of you had drank prior to this still light on his mouth. His other hand made the same familiar descent down your body, helping to tug down your pants. 

After he got the fabric about to your knees, he lifted the fabric of your shirt up, breaking your fervent kiss temporarily so that he could get it over your head. His eyes slowly drifted to your exposed chest (let’s be honest, who the hell wears a bra at home?). 

He caressed your hip, rubbing his callused thumb across your tender skin as he trailed it up to your chest, giving one breast a brief squeeze before he made his way further up, his index and pointer finger pressing on your collarbone before he held your jaw in a firm yet delicate grasp, tilting your head up just a tad. 

He leaned down, his lips making themselves at home on your neck. He ran his warm tongue along the tender skin of your throat, paying extra attention on where your jaw met your neck. When he felt the goosebumps begin to sprout up beneath his touch, he knew he was at least doing something right. 

He was always so intimate, no matter what the two of you were doing, always putting your comfort and pleasure above his own. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if most of his fun was just watching you enjoying yourself.  

He kissed down along your collarbone, then the valley between your breasts and down your stomach. Finally, he stopped, sitting up to finally pull your pants off completely. 

He stared at your underwear, his gaze directing itself back up to you. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Beel.” 

He leaned back down, planting a thoughtful kiss right above the waistband of your underwear, his warm breath tickling your skin as he whispered. ‘Thank you...”  

Balling up your underwear and pants, he tossed them to the side, grabbing ahold of both of your hands and pulling you to sit up. He briefly paused, seeming to be processing something. He turned his head, reaching for a half-empty bottle of water, taking a brief sip of it and swishing it around his mouth, then, he swallowed it. After doing this a second time for good measure, he set the bottle down and turned back to face you, smiling a little. 

“Okay so... I’m going to lay on my back, and I’m assuming you’re going to scoot yourself over my face?”  

“That sounds about right” You croaked out, throat a little dry from the number of gasps and sighs you let out from the previous kiss session.  

He nodded again, lowering himself to lay on the floor, his eyes hungrily trained on you as you gathered your wits, crawling a little closer to him. After mustering up enough courage, you began to shimmy yourself over his face, your clit perfectly aligned where his tongue happened to be.  

Leaning forward, you gently pressed your hands on to his chest, which had thankfully been bare since the two of you had started the movie. After all, his man-tits made gorgeous pillows. 

Just barely hovering over his face, he began to experimentally kiss and suck at your core, just as vigorous and hungry as you remembered it. Perhaps a little more sensitive in this position, because the sensations coursing through your body were absolutely delectable. 

He grunted softly, his hands making their way to your thighs, he pressed you down a little more. “I can take it.” He assured, coaxing you to put a little more of your weight into his face.  

Moans escaped your slack jar, tongue lolling out and head rolling back a little. Small appraisals fell from your lips as he slurped away, occasionally grunting against your heat. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, his thumbs rubbing the tender skin as he continued to eat you out, progressively getting more and more desperate. 

His tongue flicked back and forth across your clit, relishing in the way your body tensed up each time his warm tongue brushed against the ball of nerves, the way your breath hitched every time you felt that shock of pleasure rides up your body, making your brain foggier by the second.  

Eventually, he began to gently suck on it, sending into a surge of ecstasy. “B-Beel!” You gasped, gripping onto his massive man tiddies abs. 

He withdrew one of his hands from your thighs, holding it out in front of you and making a grabbing motion with his fingers, signaling for you to grab his hand. He squeezed yours gently when you grabbed onto his, lacing his fingers with yours.  

That moan that naturally fell from your lips was enough to let him know that he was doing the right things, the way your hands gripped him telling him that you were nearing your high. 

Experimentally, he pulled his mouth away from your clit, blowing a gentle puff of cool air onto it, feeling as your muscles clenched after being so relaxed.  

As quickly as he pulled away, he latched on again, beginning the same routine of suckling on your twitching ball of nerves, sending you shooting to the top again. In the midst of your pleasure, your legs began to tremble, your moans getting louder as the seconds ticked by. Twitching, your hips lifted up and off his face a little. In a hurry, he pulled his hand away from your, grabbing ahold of your thighs again and pushing you further down onto his face, coaxing you to carry out your orgasm. 

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, your throat getting tight as every nerve in your legs and core felt as though they were on fire, shooting pulses of pleasure and dopamine that went from your brain all the way down to your ankles. 

He slurped up your pleasure as if he were starving, moaning into your core at the taste alone. He released your thighs from his grip, leaving red marks where his fingers were.  

You shimmied back off his face, much clumsier than when you first got on his face. 

He sat up, running his long tongue around the outside of his mouth, savoring the taste of your release. “Did you like it?” 

“Y-yes.” You fell back to sit on your butt, your shaky breaths telling him more than your words could, but regardless, he wanted to hear it. “We... we should do that next time, too. If you don’t mind.” 

“I’m glad you liked it too, I loved it. Almost as much as I love you. Maybe because it has to do with you.” He yanked the thin throw blanket the two of you had been cuddling with over the two of you, snuggling into your side. 

Needless to say, the two of you will definitely be incorporating face sitting into your sex life.  

[qierxing]

Obligations

Yan! Zhongli x Reader

Word Count: 2,837

How long can a man talk before he runs out of air?

Scratch that. How long can this man talk before you decide to strangle him?

"...as such, the rivers, plains, and mountains that are said to have been the remains of what is left of the dead gods remains…."

The intonation of Mr. Zhongli's voice nearly puts you to sleep at the ornate dining table, and if it weren't for the fact that you were at an esteemed establishment (even if you two were in a private room), you surely would've face planted and fallen asleep right there on the mahogany wood. But you don't, because it would be an insult to the very man (and the food) who invited you on this outing.

Mr. Zhongli is a respectable man and apparently, a good friend in your family's circles. Even though you've never met the man till now, even you're aware of his shining reputation; aunties giggling on how he's so charming and polite, cousins admiring his knowledge and strength, and other relatives likewise praising him to high Celestia and above.

And he is, you suppose, very handsome. His face is beautiful; high, defined cheekbones, molten amber eyes that glow warmly, pretty curved pink lips and nose to match. A good face, your auntie would say if she was here. An auspicious face.

“And that is how the geography of Liyue came to be...”

You're sure anyone in your position would be swooning over how his voice flowed like the trickling rivers that ran through Guili plains, but you just wished he would shut up at some point. Not even the delicious spread of food at the glass carousel wheel could distract from his tirade, and that was saying something.

Speaking of, why did he order so much food for only the two of you?

'In Liyue, you can always eat till you drop!' A saying that always echoed among the locals, and still holds true today. But even then, the intricately painted línglóng porcelain holding the remnants of steamed egg soup, roasted duck, squirrel fish, and more and more food, are way too excessive, even if he wanted to impress you.

You idly push around the Tianshu meat on your plate as he continues to drone on, wondering when you can politely excuse yourself without being rude.

-

"So, how was the dinner?" You internally groan as your mom's barely concealed excitement in her voice shows.

"Mama, we just sat there and talked." Well, Zhongli was the one doing most of the talking. But you weren't about to say that, not when you know a lecture awaits that answer.

"Isn't he a very handsome man?" Your mother's eyes gleam dangerously and a resigned sigh leaves your lips as she barrels on confidently. "Doesn't he seem like the perfect husband?!"

"Mama, it's ten in the morning…" What you wouldn’t give to eat your congee in peace.

"He is a respectable man, and quite knowledgeable to boot."

"Not you too, Baba!"

Your father merely chuckles as he continues reading the daily newspaper, and you roll your eyes as he continues chuckling behind the printed pages. Your mother swats at him to finish his porridge, turning to you with a frown on her wrinkled face. You brace yourself, knowing exactly what is coming next.

"[First Name], you're already of marriageable age, you should be looking for your future spouse! Your parents are growing old and when we die-"

"I will be perfectly fine without a husband." You cut her off, rubbing at your forehead. It was too early in the morning for this talk.

"Aiya, I don't want our only child to be by themselves! We will never know peace once we pass away, so much worry-"

You tune the rest of the lecture out, not even having the energy to refute her worries.

When you leave the house to take a walk, you meet the infamous Mr. Zhongli again.

"What a coincidence, I am also taking a walk to clear the mind. Would you perhaps like to join me?" And trapped by societal politeness, and the fact that this man did order you a three course meal the previous night, you agree.

So it's to your surprise that he does not immediately initiate dialogue as the both of you stroll leisurely through the stone gardens in Yunjin terrace, and a comfortable silence falls.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind." You turn to meet his gaze, and then away. Your frustration burns at you in the remainder of the morning's argument, but it dissipates at his concerned face. It is not his fault, you reason, that your mother wants you to court him for a possibility. For fortune. Despite the man's shortcomings, he is nothing but a gentleman.

"I don't want to pry but...I have heard that talking about your thoughts might ease your mind?"

You pause for a long time, breathing out your nose as you close your eyes.

"My parents want me to marry you." You've never been one to mince words, much to your mother's dismay at trying to teach you etiquette. "They think that you're a good match. And they're paranoid about me becoming a spinster."

There's silence for a moment and you open your eyes to not a face of disgust or shock, but rather one of musing.

"And you, [First Name]? What do you think?"

You turn your gaze to the water.

"Honestly? I don't know. I don't know you well enough to make that judgement. I know my parents are worried, but I don't want to get married for the sake of not being alone. I think it's rather selfish, to wish that solely for your partner."

The words tumble out of your mouth, one after another and you wonder how it is that it's easier to confess this to an acquaintance than your own parents.

"I was under the impression that people often like to pursue lasting romance in their lives. It's interesting to see this is not always true." Zhongli hums, hand coming to stroke his chin thoughtfully.

"Perhaps? I don't know. I've always been content with my friends." Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. "Who knows? Maybe I have yet to meet the right person."

Zhongli hums again in response, seemingly in deep thought with a small frown pulling at his lips. A silence falls once again, and an awkward atmosphere falls upon the both of you.

"Oh yes, I never did thank you for the delicious dinner last night." You note offhandedly, half distracted by the swimming carp in the clear pond water. The water trails are hypnotic, and they help take your mind off the stressful morning you had.

"It was nothing. For my friend's precious child, that was the least I could do." He modestly replies, and you deadpan. It was nothing? A three course meal at Xinyue Pavillion, nothing? You know that squirrel fish did not have a low price tag.

"Regardless, I'm very thankful for your generosity." After all, not many tolerated your blunt, forthright personality, least of all the potential suitors your mother always brought before you. The memory makes you feel guilty at the irritation you had back then at the dinner. "The next time, I insist we have dinner at Wanmin--I've heard their black back perch stew is to die for. My treat."

He hums, and turns to you with a heartbreaking smile, a far cry from his previous countenance. "Is that a promise?"

You raise your eyebrow, "What are you, Morax? Yes, it's a promise, unless you hate fish, I guess."

His amused chuckles are soft but light a warm hearth in your heart.

-

Your mother is growing more daring than you remember.

She shoves you out the door as if you're some kind of fancy wrapped gift to offer to Mr. Zhongli, and there's a manic glee in her eyes as she eyes you and him standing together like a couple.

"[First Name] has been looking forward to this, haven't you, sweetie?"

The Liyuen hanfu she forced you into were a different cut than the modern cheongsam dresses of the current trends. Archaic, if you dare call it that. While some traditionalists still donned hanfu, it was not as common to see it in the streets. When she was shoving you in the under robes, she muttered about how it was something passed down in the family. Which explained a lot. These days, hanfu like this were something of a rich antiquity.

You sigh deeply, tugging your translucent pibo around you tighter as you decide to humor her, if only to get her to stop embarrassing yourselves and leave faster.

"Yes, quite."

Zhongli hums, and when you turn to face him, you're almost unnerved at how his eyes sharpen and scan over you, pupils slit like a dragon's. The moment is gone in a flash and he merely smiles at you gently before taking your hand in his gloved one.

"In that case, shall we get going?"

The nightlife of Liyue is in full swing and Zhongli tugs you closer, and there's something intimate in the way he presses you firmly into his side, the warmth he exudes sending pleasurable tingles down your body.

"Do forgive me for being so bold, [First Name]," He addresses you so tenderly, that you blush when you look back up from your joined hands, "You look absolutely radiant tonight."

How is it this man manages to say such an embarrassing thing so smoothly? What is his secret? He doesn’t seem like the playboys that often loiter around the downtown area of the harbor. You look away, unable to meet his eyes that reflect the lanterns and make his pupils glow.

"T-Thank you, Zhongli, you're too kind."

His eyes never seem to leave you, even when taking in the lovely scenery of Liyue at night. For the bright lanterns glitter and glow on the ocean waves, but his own pupils are glued to your being when you look in your peripheral.

“Is there something on my face?” Tearing your eyes away from the street in front of you, you turn to meet his gaze straight on.

He merely smiles.

“No.” He pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture innocuous, but leaving a burning trail where his finger tips touch your skin. “I believe we have arrived.”

Thankfully you can excuse the burning in your cheeks and neck away with the spices that the Li cuisine favors. If anyone asks, it was the black back parch stew making you look flushed and out of sorts. Never mind the fact that Chef Mao looks quite amused at the fact you’re sputtering in response to his cheeky questions about you showing up with a man to your favored restaurant.

When you look up from checking to make sure your hanfu didn’t get any stains, Zhongli is uncorking a white bottle and pouring it into your cups. At your questioning look, he replies, “Dàqūjiǔ. The Li technique ferments wheat for about two to three months. This one in particular, has a fine aroma after being fermented for a while.”

“Hoh…” You chuckle at his explanation, “You really do know everything.”

“Hardly. I cannot say I know as much as the regular scholar…nonetheless, to good fortune!”

Echoing his cheer, you raise your cup and drink.

The alcohol burns your throat, and you’re reminded of your low alcohol tolerance. Yet, your fellow friend refills your cup just as easily, and who are you to refuse him? By the time you’re on your fourth cup, your world is spinning and you’ve developed a headache.

“Ahaha…wow...everything...is...moving…” You slur incomprehensibly and slump onto the bamboo table.

“Oh dear, we best get you back. In this condition, you’re too vulnerable.”

“No way...if I go back with you...my mom….she won’t let me…!” You raise your head from the cool table, but the effort of doing that makes you groan.

Zhongli all too easily picks you up bridal style, and after bidding goodbye to Chef Mao with a hefty bag of mora, he walks down the now empty streets of Liyue.

“Won’t let you what, dear heart?” He hums, stroking your face gently with the pad of his thumb.

“Won’t let me...let...us...ugh…”

“[First Name], do you like me?”

“Mmh...yeah…” Is all he gets, but the stilted, jagged answer is enough for him. The content smile that breaks his face belies the haunting glow of his molten eyes.

-

When you step out of the door of your bedroom, you're accosted by your sobbing mother.

"Ma-Mama?! What's the matter?" You frantically ask, pushing at her shoulders.

"Oh my sweet child, oh I'm so happy for you! When were you going to tell me, you brat?!"

"Tell you what?!"

"That you're marrying Zhongli, sweetie! Oh, this is such a momentous occasion--"

You're too shell shocked that you do not hear her next words. What? Marry? Zhongli? What on Teyvat was going on--

"--Hurry up, he's waiting for you in the living room!" You're snapped out of your daze when you're ushered hastily into the room, casual robes and all, right in front of the very person you had so many questions for.

The door shutting behind you does not muffle the excited chatter from your parents and you wince when you hear your mother excitedly bantering with your father. Turning and meeting an intense gaze, you feel like you’ve stepped into an arena with a monster.

"Zhongli, why are my parents under the impression we're marrying?"

His golden eyes crinkle in delight at your blunt words, "Because we are, my dear heart."

D-Dear heart?!

"I don't understand."

"What is there not to understand?" You step back as he rises from the cozy armchair he was given. It only just occurs to you how ridiculously tall this man is, and he towers over you, like a mountain.

"I believe we share a mutual attraction. After all, last night only proved it." He leans over and you flinch as he gently cups your face with a small smile.

"We've only known each other for a couple days!" You protest, leaning your face out of his hands. His smile dips into a displeased frown, hands falling to his sides.

"Why need more time to prove what is already there?" He tilts his head. “If this is a matter about your dowry, I’m sure I can help--”

“This isn’t about mora! Zhongli, this is moving way too fast--”

“Is that so? If I’m correct, I believe that your family’s come upon some hard times, no?” And you’re left breathless, struck silent. “Not down to the pits, but just one little slip and...well, your father’s business is already taking loans, isn’t it?”

Your teeth are grinding so hard against each other to the point where it echoes in your head.

“Marry me, [First Name], and you won’t have to worry about any of that. After all, I’ve always had enough good fortune to share. Are you so willing to crush your parent’s hopes and dreams for their child?”

“I-” Your mother’s tears on her weathered face come to mind, wrinkles from stress deeply indented in her skin. Your father, weary, veiny hands covered in scars from hard manual labor, shoulders slumped from his strength sapping. And you realize with a bone chilling fear that this man, this man was threatening to destroy the very foundation of your life.

He smiles upon seeing your uncertain visage, gritted teeth, clenched fists and trembling body.

"You'll look beautiful in red and gold."

-

How numb you feel!

Having to sit there while being dressed, being fawned over by your cousins, cried over by your mother and aunties, and your father and uncles chuckling over your good fortune. All the while, you cannot bring yourself to bring even the fakest smile to your face, only being able to muster up a sheepish smile, but it is of no concern, as everyone seems to mistake it for a shy front for a person about to marry their true love.

At least that’s how your mother is spinning it to your giggling aunties. And even when the festivities are over, you know that this is not the end.

Bare fingers trace your cheeks and lift your veil as a chaste kiss is placed on your lips.

This was supposed to be a day of joy.

Said fingers begin to trail down your body, and more sobs begin to shake your body. When you think about it, this might be the first time you felt his skin touch your own. Zhongli has always dressed conservatively, even covering his hands with his gloves. Thinking about it longer makes your skin crawl.

This was supposed to be--

Zhongli hums appreciatively into your collarbone as he slips your wedding garb off your shoulders, your world collapses and dims, with only a haunting amber light as your guide.

[marvus-xoloto]

I don’t know if you’re taking requests but I just had my sister cut my long hair despite my gut telling me not to and I hate it and I feel so ugly , my hair is my comfort and was wondering if I could get a comfort fic with Mallek reassuring reader they’re not because I’m having a hard time convincing myself, I’ve been crying for like 2 hours now

i am always taking requests! It just takes me a while to write them sometimes lol ;-;

so sorry to hear about your hair <3 I hope this helps even a little bit! also sorry it took so long to post lol. i used this prompt as a warm up and forgot to post it

___

It was bound to happen sooner or later on Alternia: absolute disaster.

You like to think you'd made you peace with the idea. Brutality? Well, all trolls are bastards, you're used to it. Violence? It's just foreplay on Alternia, and these funky little ant people want you so bad it makes them look stupid. They better start calling you cordyceps 'cause you got these bitches going to lengths once they've got you on the brain. And drone strikes? All you have to say to that is: you've befriended worse. Murder clowns; weeaboos and gamers; a verified nice guy, even. Drones got nothing on a heated gamer moment.

So what gets you in the end... it's the overconfidence, surely. Your sudden courage; you think it happens with an "oops" or an "uh-oh."

The important part is: it happens at all.

Because here's the thing they don't tell you about Alternia: even you- with your pal-ietal lobe, your cerebell-chum, your god damn penchant for being just the friendliest little guy- are alone with me, myself, and I at the end of the night. All you've got is that dude in the mirror who only talks back when you're at your most sleep deprived.

And that dude in the mirror has one fucked up 'do.

Fuck.

___

The solution is obvious: you've fucked youself over with Occam's razor, may as well use it. Who else do you know has fucked up hair?

Well, all of your troll friends. Tagora especially comes to mind. But who else has intentionally fucked hair?

Mallek lets you into his hive without a word about your impending flop era.

It might be thanks to the hood drawn up over your head; thank god for Mallek's hoodie.

"What's up?" he asks. You're still learning to read him; his smirk never quite reaches his eyes, but then again, neither do any of his other expressions. "If you're planning on robbing the hood, I'd appreciate if you didn't display my sign." He flops down on his sofa, grabbing another slice of pizza and handing you the blue plastic plate as if your hands aren't shoved anxiously in your hoodie pocket. "Or at least rob something really cool and subversive. You know, flushed affirmation day is coming up-" it isn't, "-and I've always wanted a Namaaq original."

His desperate attempt to act like everything is cool means so much; you almost believe it, with his smudged eyeliner and his dichotomous face.

"Already stole everything I wanted," you say, sitting gingerly on the edge of the couch, pressing your fingers to his chest. It's a small comfort; his heart beats so slow where yours is beating in a near frantic state.

"Just the one? You know I've got about five more?"

"Hearts?"

He smirks again, but this time his eyes join the party with a little tilt-o-whirl and the light that comes with it. "Hoodies." He takes a bit of his pizza, chewing through a smile.

He gestures at you with his half-eaten slice. "So what's the deal tonight? Breaking and entering? Defamation of property?"

"Defamation of person, maybe," you say. And with a thrill of anxiety, you pull the hood down.

"Damn," he says. He chews down the crust. "You look fucked up."

Well, he didn't have to say it. Damn gamers and their blunt demeanors. Tears sting at your eyes; maybe this was a mistake.

Mallek looks suddenly very distressed, running his hand through his own hair and eyes wide. "Fuck, I didn't mean it like that." He's panicking now, which at least is endearing enough that you can momentarily shove aside your upset. He looks around wildly, before handing you another slice of pizza. Another blue plastic plate. His white flag, his peace offering.

"Help," you say, in a tiny, mousey voice. Because it's the only thing you can say without falling to pieces.

___

It takes some manoevering, three more slices of pizza, and a few paragraphs of skipped exposition before you're sat in Mallek's gamer chair, with Mallek's hands in your hair, and Mallek's razor buzzing away behind you.

It's terrifying; hasn't your look suffered enough?

"You're going to get my hair stuck in all the noo- crevices," you catch yourself just in time.

"Yeah, well I've got a fan."

"Human hair is finer than troll hair."

"Heh. Got a leafblower, too."

"Do you really?"

"Yeah." You turn around in his chair to really look at him, give him a hard left face to the face. "Really," he repeats emphatically. "How do you think I got around before I saved up enough allowance for a hoverboard?" He jerks his horns to one of several piles of junk that litter his hive. You wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't pointed it out; a leafblower connected to both a skateboard AND a flamethrower. That is indeed Alternia's stupidest- and, possibly, deadliest- private transportation.

You're shocked. "Does it work?"

He scoffs. "Does it work? Do you feel any hair in those crevices?" He kicks at the seat; several meals worth of crumbs rain down.

You do, regretfully, find yourself suddenly aware of tiny bits of your cut hair in your own crevices. You wonder if he'll let you take a shower, or if he's going to try to prove a point with that leafblower.

"Your deflecting," he says, grabbing you by the top of your head and straightening you out. He clicks on the razor and you must visabley tense, because his hand on your head goes suddenly tender. "What's the big deal? I've been cutting my own hair for sweeps."

"What if I look stupid?"

"Do I look stupid to you?" He fluffs up his hair with his off hand, looking like the world's sexiest cockatiel.

There's silence between you. Mallek's face is so transparently pleading with you: please laugh, please feel better.

"It's just..." you trail off, fiddling with the hem of your stolen hoodie. "I've always been a person with hair that was a certain length, and-"

Mallek interrupts you with a swipe of his razor against your scalp.

"Hey!" your hand jumps to the clean shaven spot; it's fuzzy like a kiwi.

"You'll learn," he says, pitching his voice low, "to be the person with this length hair." He pulls the last lock out of your face before shaving it, kissing you on your now exposed scalp. "Or this length hair," he tickles you on the jaw with the lock of hair he just shaved off. "You're gonna look so punk, babe."

And so it goes. He doesn't shave your whole head; just a small part of the side.

"Did I ever show you my first shave?" he asks, wiping down his blade once he's finished.

He doesn't wait for your answer, shoving his palmhusk in front of you. The picture is of preteen Mallek, complete with lime-green soda tab necklace and striped arm bands and shaggy, wavy hair with a shaved patch right at the side, all right angles.

"Wow," you can't help but laugh, "I always knew you were a square." You trace the perfect, ridiculous edges of his hairline on his palmhusk screen, and he hits the lock button.

You're forced into eye contact with your own reflection.

It's not bad- the haircut is very troll, with wild bits sticking up at odd angles- but, well...

You turn in your chair.

"So, matching tattoos next?" He offers.

It's not you, not really...

But you smirk the same way he does: all mouth. Your mouth. On his.

You think you can find a way to be this person, right now. You'll grow into it, and if not? The hair will grow into you, eventually.

[sammykiszkasunusedshoes]

label off the bottle

pairing: Josh kiszka x F!reader

warings: dirty talk (???), drinking, fluffy Josh, swearing, cheating ex, Lil angsty

A/N: this is my first fanfic on here so my apologies if it's horrible ! The grammar also might suck because I'm writing this all in one go and praying for the best. I'm so sorry if this bad. Please leave feedback!!!!

Word count: 1.6k

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

Smoke looms the building as the strong smell of liquor and cheap perfume makes the air even heavier. There's clashing body's everywhere as you excuse yourself through the crowd trying to find the group you came with. You knew coming here wasn't a good idea, but the thought you'd see him here? That wasn't something you'd expect. Yes, it's been a month since you and Owen had called it quits. But it still hurts to see him around. Especially since you just saw him with his tongue down the same girl's throat that you had caught him with the night you had called it quits. Thank God for the boys and Ronnie. Without them you'd probably still be a hermit in your room. But right now that's what you wished for. You just wanted to leave but you didn't want to ruin their night.

As you finally found your way through the sweaty crowd that danced to the wall banging music, you found where your group was hiding. Well, you wouldn't say hiding. Of course they were sitting where the booze was. As you walked over to them and pulled your skirt down from the hike you just had to make to get over to the kitchen, Josh smiled up at you from his seated position. He grabbed your waist and sat you on his lap hugging you tightly to him. You laughed and ruffled his curly hair playfully trying to get away from him. But in reality you wanted to stay exactly where you were. You always were close with Josh but your heart wanted to be closer.

"There you are mama! I thought you left me here all alone!" Josh dramatically nuzzled his nose into your neck. Of course he was drunk, but he was usually like this, Josh is a pretty touchy person. It's just his way of showing he cared. But you wanted the touch to mean more, not just as a best friend type of way but a lover.

"oh Joshy, I'd never leave you alone. That'd be horrible! How else would I get home?" You smirked at him as you got up off his lap. You reached over Josh to grab another beer.

"You only use me for my super cool jeep" Josh pouted as he ran his hand up your side while you leaned over him. He quickly brought his hand away and looked across the room at Jake, who as you guess was smirking right at Josh. Jake knew all about Josh's feelings for you and has told Josh you felt the same. He just doesn't believe it.

"y/n!!! come here, it's our song!" you squinted your eyes closed as Ronnie screeches drunkenly as some song you two danced to once at a club started to play. she grabbed your hand and pulled you to the makeshift dance floor.

"tsk tsk tsk brother… when are you finally gonna make a move Josh?" Jake chucks his empty bottle in the trash as he grabs another.

"I don't know… she only sees me as a friend jake- I don't want to ruin anything" Josh slurs as he looks down at the beer bottle in his hand. He slowly picks at the label trying to peel it off as he sighs. "She's my best friend and always has been-"

"And she's always been in love with you Josh. You're blind as a fucking bat if you can't see that." Jake cuts his twin off as Josh rolls his eyes dramatically.

"And you're blind as a 'fucking bat' to even think she sees me like that Jake! She's had countless boyfriends and I've tried to make her see that I want her but it doesn't work! She gets hurt then moves on and I'm still friend zoned!" Josh rips the label off the bottle and tosses it on the floor. "I've accepted that I'm just a friend to her."

Jake rolls his eyes and scoffs at his twin brother getting swallowed by his self pity. "Oh c'mon Joshua. If you don't own up to your feelings soon. You're gonna lose her for good."

"Lose who for good?" You lean on the wall looking between the two identical boys as you picked at the label on your bottle. Just as Josh had done to his a minute ago.

Jake looks at Josh before rubbing Josh's shoulder as he walks by indicating that now's the time to man up. Josh watches Jake walk past, biting at his lower lip before looking back at you.

As you leaned against the wall Josh studied you. He started at your legs, slowly looking up. Scanning over your black leather skirt, to your sage green tank top. God his thoughts were spinning like a record as he took in your beauty.

He stood up and scratched the back of his neck. He smiled like an idiot as he walked closer to you. "Whattttt we weren't talking about anyone pretty mama!" He tried to play off his conversation with Jake earlier.

You crossed your arms as you gave him the 'mom look' you were so well known for. "Joshua, don't lie to me" you scolded.

Gosh, even drunk, Josh still bucks at his knees when you scold him. It's honestly a turn on for him. "Mama I wouldn't lie to you" he said in a sing-song voice as he kissed your cheek and giggled.

"Josh, I'm serious! I hate it when you leave me out of things." You pouted and pushed him away playfully.

Just when Josh was about to say screw it and own up to his feelings, the man Josh would strangle with his own hand walks up to you, as if he owned you.

"Baby, it's been so long…" Owen. The ex that broke you completely came to you and grabbed your waist.

"Don't touch me Owen-" you pushed his hands away and back up towards Josh. "And don't call me baby." You crossed your arms.

Owen rolled his eyes and grabbed another beer. "Oh shut it, Y/N. Accept a man's affection." he slurred.

Josh swore he growled like a savage animal. He grabbed your hand and looked at you sweetly. "C'mon babe, let's head home." He hoped you would play along so he could get you away from your asshole ex.

You nodded and followed Josh outside to his truck. You tilted your head at Josh as you heard him mumble things under his breath angrily.

"Josh, why are you mumbling?" You asked as he scoffed.

"I don't understand how you've let yourself date such… such assholes! You deserve better but you don't let yourself have better! It's stupid Y/N! God- it hurts me to see you let yourself settle for cheating assholes like that. You're so… so goddamn blind!" Josh ran his hand through his hair as he laughed at his anger.

Oh you were ticked. How could your so-called best friend just… just snap at you like that? "Seriously Josh? I'm blind? It's not like I'm some lie detector when it comes to men! God your not any better than those assholes right now. And I try to do better Josh! It's hard when you can't get the one you want to realize you want them!"

Josh scoffs, "oh trust me y/n. I know exactly what it's like. Do you know how stupid it is to get friend zoned by you everyday? I do everything in my power to get you to realize I love you but you're so caught up with that stupid ex of yours!" He waves his hands around as you look at him blankly. "Shit- I'm… no I didn't mean-" Josh stammers with his words. He just confessed everything to you.

"You… you, Joshua Kiszka like… me?" You looked at him in disbelief. He laughs at you and grabs your waist, pinning you against his Jeep. "Like I said. You are so fucking blind mama. I love you more than life itself, and it's so stupid it took this long for you to realize." He brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you with dark eyes.

"Now tell me mama, it's only fair…" Josh smiles and leans in closer. "How do you feel about me?"

You were not expecting tonight to turn into this… pinned against the love of your lifes vehicle. "I uhm.." you searched his expression, he was drunk but definitely sobered up from the screaming. You shake your head and close in the space between you two. His soft lips connect with yours and he suddenly goes completely still before he melts into you. Running his hands all over your body. It's a dream come true for him.

After what felt like years of kissing, you finally pull apart to catch your breath. You look at him between your eyelashes and laugh softly. "Josh I've been in love with you for- god knows how long…"

Josh kisses you again, and again, and again. This was all he's ever wanted, what's he's wished for every birthday when he had to blow out the candles you begged the twins to do since its a 'tradition.'

While you two are smiling at each other you hear cheering and hollering from behind Josh, you look over to see Ronnie, Jake, Danny, and Sam clapping away before Sam hits Danny's shoulder. "Pay up bitch! I told you it would happen!" Sam does the grabby hands as Danny scoffs and grabs his wallet.

"I'm never letting you go, just so you know that mama." Josh pecks your lips once again as he smiles. He's finally found his euphoria. Finally found his reason for life. He's finally got the prize.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Pumpkins, Paint, and Maybe a Date

Word count: 4150

Warnings: none, just tickles and fluff

I couldn't possibly leave Thor out of the fall fics, so here he is! I lost the prompts for this one in my asks somewhere, but thank you to those who suggested fall fic activity ideas!

I've got one more coming with Steve x reader based on another prompt, so stay tuned! In the meantime, please enjoy some well-deserved love for Thor 😉

You’d been a whirlwind of excitement since the moment you woke up.

The Avengers’ Halloween party was fast approaching that evening. This would be your first year in attendance, as you’d joined the team only months ago. But you’d heard the others’ grand tales of Halloween parties in years’ past – stories of the elaborate costumes, the extravagant food and drink, the wonderfully chilling décor… it all sounded so exciting. You had a fantastic costume of your own picked out just for the occasion, and you couldn’t wait to show it off.

When Tony had requested assistance with setting up the decorations this year (or, rather, Pepper made him ask so she wouldn’t be left with all the setup last minute), you had been more than willing to offer your services with pumpkin carving. Truthfully, you weren’t all that skilled in the art of carving pumpkins, but when you’d found out a certain blond-haired God of Thunder had already volunteered for the task, you’d jumped at the opportunity to spend a bit of extra time with him.

Carving pumpkins was messy business. You knew better than to attempt such a task indoors, so you gathered your supplies and headed out to the small courtyard, spreading out across the patio table. You’d planned to head back inside once everything was set up to find your carving partner, but you found you didn’t have the need.

“Ah! There you are!”

Your heart skipped when you heard Thor’s voice from the doorway, turning around and offering him a bright smile. He returned it with one of his own, his blue eyes twinkling as they scrunched up from the pressure in his cheeks. Something about that smile always made you weak in the knees.

Thor had become one of your first friends when you’d moved into the compound after joining the team. His sarcastic and boastful sense of humor, coupled with his boisterous and outgoing personality, drew you to him early on. You’d developed a heavy crush on the elder Asgardian prince. But you were shy and reserved, and he was carefree and bold. While this was part of what you loved so much about him, it made you hesitant to let him know how you felt. He was a bit out of your league, after all.

“Are you ready to make some Jack O’ Lanterns?” you asked excitedly as he walked over to join you at the table.

“Is that what you’ve decided to name the pumpkins?” he asked curiously.

You chuckled. “No, it’s what Midgardians call pumpkins with faces carved into them!”

“I see! What an unusual title!” he chortled. You shrugged.

“Have you ever carved a pumpkin before?”

“I can’t say that I have! But I am a fast learner,” he insisted with a wink. You felt a prickling of heat in your cheeks, turning your face away to hide any color that may have sprung to your cheeks. Sliding one of the pumpkins toward Thor, you rounded the table to stand in front of your own pumpkin to demonstrate the proper technique.

“So, you have to scoop out the pumpkin guts first,” you began, picking up your carving knife and beginning to slice a round hole in the top.

“This is beginning to sound quite violent.”

“They’re not real guts! It’s just what we call the seeds and gunk inside the pumpkin.”

Thor laughed heartily. “You mortals certainly have curious names for your vegetables!” He took the other carving knife from the table, mirroring your movements and cutting his own pumpkin open.

“So, once you have a hole cut in the top…”

“How unusual!” You glanced up to find that Thor had already finished slicing a hole into his pumpkin, his large hand completely concealed inside the vegetable. He withdrew his hand, a large handful of stringy orange pumpkin goop laced with seeds encased in his palm.

“Ugh. This is my least favorite part – it’s so slimy and gross, isn’t it?” you asked, cringing.

“Nonsense! I’ve slain monsters with much ‘slimier’ innards than this. This is nothing!” Thor boasted, slapping the handful of goo onto the newspaper laid out on the table before returning his hand into the pumpkin to grab another.

“Well… great! You can gut them, and I’ll cut the tops off for you? I, for one, find the pumpkin ‘innards’ pretty gross.”

“Oh, come now! It can’t be that terrible for you, can it?” he asked, a teasing edge to his tone as he held out a handful of orange pumpkin slime in your direction.

“It doesn’t look gross, I just don’t want to touch it,” you elaborated, taking a step back as Thor moved his hand closer to yours where it rested on the table. He laughed, placing the handful down on the newspaper to add to his small pile. “Here – this one is cut open, so you can do it next. I’ll work on cutting into another.”

The two of you worked in comfortable silence for some time, save for the occasional slap as Thor dropped another handful of pumpkin onto the table. Pepper had purchased eight pumpkins for the occasion, and by the time you were cutting into the sixth one, your hand was beginning to grow tired. Still, you didn’t want to trade roles and subject yourself to –

“AHH!” You jumped back suddenly as a large blob of pumpkin slime fell onto the back of your hand that was braced against the table. The sudden deep, rumbling laughter told you exactly who was responsible. “Thor! What was that for?”

“I didn’t want you to get too far ahead of me!” he insisted, “I’m only on the fourth pumpkin, and you’re cutting into your seventh!”

“So you… slime me?!” you exclaimed indignantly, wiping the back of your hand off on the newspaper. “It isn’t meant to be a race!”

“I should hope not – my task is clearly much more cumbersome than yours! I’m working twice as hard as you are!”

You gasped theatrically, trying to fight the silly grin that was threatening to spread across your face. “How dare you insinuate I’m not working hard! I’ll have you know that my hand is cramped from dragging the knife through the pumpkins!”

Thor’s face fell, looking at you with an air of concern. “Is it, really? Please, allow me.” He held his hand out, palm facing up, motioning for you to give him your hand. Your face began to burn, but you suddenly didn’t have any words left in your mouth, so you hesitantly placed your sore hand in his. His skin was warm against yours, roughened from the centuries of training as a warrior, yet still with a certain softness. He placed his other hand over yours, turning your hand to rest palm-up in his before gently kneading his thumb into your sore hand.

“Oh, wow, that does feel better,” you noted in surprise. Truly you’d never thought about the tension you carried in your hands, but Thor’s careful but firm touch against your palm felt wonderful and… oddly relaxing. You let your eyes drift closed for a moment, just enjoying the sensation.

That is, until something cold and slimy dropped into your open palm.

“AUGHH THOR!!” you scolded, jerking your hand from his and flinging the pumpkin goo down onto the newspaper as he doubled over with laughter. “That wasn’t very nice! Lulling me into a false sense of security before… betraying my trust!!”

“I apologize, fair maiden – I could not forego such a wonderful opportunity when it presented itself so plainly!” he snickered. You narrowed your eyes playfully, glancing down at the pumpkin guts sitting on the table beside you. Bracing yourself for the slimy texture, you scooped it back up in your hand and flung it at the unsuspecting Asgardian. It struck him in the arm before sliding off onto the ground. His head whipped up to look at you, icy blue eyes wide with an incredulous smile on his face, jaw slightly agape in surprise.

“Did you honestly just face your fear of pumpkin innards to throw them at me??” You nodded, a haughty grin spreading across your face. “You should know better by now not to start a war with the God of Thunder, maiden!”

“Oh, no- HEY!!” You ducked as he snatched up a fistful of pumpkin slime from his pile on the table and hurled it at your head, barely moving your face in time. “Now that isn’t f- THOR!”

He was laughing maniacally now, knowing he had the entire pile of pumpkin goo on his side of the table as he began chucking more handfuls at you. You blocked your face with your arms and crouched to make yourself as small of a target as possible, waddling as quickly as you could in this hunched position toward the door to the compound to try to escape.

“Now, wait a moment! We – aheh – we aren’t finished carving pumpkins!” Thor cried, chasing after you. You shrieked at the sound of his heavy footsteps drawing nearer, standing up a bit straighter to run more quickly. As you reached for the door handle, a set of strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind and dragged you backward, ignoring your protests. One of his hands, you noticed, was closed in a fist where it rested against your belly.

“Thor! If you have more pumpkin guts in your hand, I swear to all your gods – wait, uh-uh, no, NOHO!” You yelped and struggled against his hold as he grappled with you to try to get ahold of your wrist in his free hand. You were thankful he was at least not mischievous enough to try to shove it down your shirt or something, but you weren’t about to let him get away with forcing you to touch more pumpkin slime. You clamped both hands down around his fist to prevent him from opening his hand, holding fast despite his tugging at your wrist with his empty hand.

“Gods, for a mortal you are quite strong,” Thor grunted, latching his hand onto your other wrist. His fingertips prodded into your belly where your arm was pressed tightly to your body. The unsuspected touch made you crumple and suck in a sharp breath. With your arms slightly weakened for just that brief second, he managed to pull your hand off his and force the pumpkin guts into your hand.

“EW!” you yelped, stumbling away from him now that he’d released you from his grasp. You made a big show of wiping your hand off on the newspapers, trying desperately to prevent him from thinking about why you might have reacted the way you did when his fingers brushed your torso.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want Thor to know you were deathly ticklish. In fact, you wouldn’t have minded all that much if he’d suddenly wrapped you up tightly in his arms and tickled you to pieces. Still, the innate sense of self-preservation took hold in this instance. If he was going to find out how ticklish you were, it certainly wasn’t going to be because you’d willingly offered up the information.

So, when he returned to the table to continue carving pumpkins, still chuckling about having succeeded in forcing pumpkin into your hand, you weren’t sure whether you were relieved or disappointed that he appeared none the wiser of what he did. Rolling your eyes and scolding him for his antics, you took your position across the table to continue working on the Jack O’ Lanterns.

Thor found the entire process of cutting faces into the empty pumpkins quite thrilling, to say the least. After demonstrating for him on one pumpkin, he took to carving an elaborate, dragon-like face on the next – far more detailed than you could ever achieve. You tried to pass off the task of carving to the Asgardian, but he wasn’t having any of it, insisting that your skill was just as good as his. You knew that was a lie, of course, but you humored him anyway, carving a couple more just to make him happy.

“Oh, wow it’s later than I thought it was!” you exclaimed, anxiously looking at your watch. “After we bring these inside I have to go get into my costume for the party!”

“The festivities begin in another couple hours, do they not?” Thor asked curiously as he scooped up the box filled with the Jack O’ Lanterns to bring inside.

“Yeah, but my costume requires a lot of costume paint.” You gathered the carving materials to clean them up, following Thor into the compound. “It’s probably going to take a while, especially by myself.”

“What costume will you be wearing this evening?”

“It’s a character from a movie, you probably haven’t seen it,” you explained. You were going all out on your Red Queen costume from Alice in Wonderland – full-on face paint, poofy red wig... everything. After hearing about some of the costumes from years past, you knew you had to go big to be able to measure up to the rest of the team. You were pretty excited about it.

“Well, I may still be able to assist you if you provide a photograph,” he offered. You nearly stopped short.

“You want to help me get ready?”

“Well, certainly! It is my fault that this carving task took longer than anticipated, after all.” Thor grinned sheepishly. “Allow me to make it up to you!”

“Well… alright, yeah, I could use some help!” You weren’t about to pass up an offer from Thor to spend more time together. “Let’s bring these pumpkins to Pepper and then I’ll show you the costume paint I bought for tonight.”

Before you could process what was happening, you were seated in your room in front of your vanity mirror with your costume paint gathered around you and a hulking Asgardian god ready to assist with painting your face. Even thinking about it, it all seemed insane. But Thor was ready and eager to help, and there was no part of you that wanted to say no to him.

“Alright – this is who I’m dressing up as,” you explained, showing Thor a photo of the Red Queen on your phone.

“Ah, that should be quite simple, then! I hope you’ve purchased a large quantity of white paint!”

“Oh, don’t worry…” you insisted with a laugh, pointing out the five tubes laid out beside you. “I’ve got it covered.”

You tied your hair back out of your face and popped open one of the bottles of white paint. Before you could reach for the brush, Thor scooped it up off the vanity and took the open bottle of white paint from your hand.

“Oh, you don’t have to do all of it –“

“Please. I feel as though I owe you a debt for chasing you with the innards of your pumpkins earlier.” Reluctantly, you relented, motioning for Thor to pull over the chair from your computer desk so he wouldn’t have to kneel to reach your face.

You were suddenly acutely aware of Thor’s eyes fixed on your face as he lifted the brush to your forehead, beginning to apply the white paint in long, sweeping strokes. His brow was furrowed ever so slightly as he concentrated on his work, his mouth set in a flat line. Both of you were silent for some time while he finished applying paint to your forehead, moving down to your temples before turning his attention to the apples of your cheeks. You feared he would feel the heat that had blossomed in the skin he was coating in white, deciding it would be best if you started talking to break the silence and distract from your nervous excitement.

“So, what are you going as?” you asked.

“My costume?” he asked, continuing to paint as he spoke. “I’ve decided to go as Hercules!”

You nearly snorted, trying with difficulty not to smile too hard and mess with Thor’s painting. “Hercules? Like, the god?”

“Why, yes, of course.”

“Do you not see the irony in that?” you laughed.

“I thought it quite fitting, being a strong and powerful god myself!” He rewet the brush with additional white paint, sweeping the brush across your left cheek. “In fact, I tried to convince Loki to dress up as Hades!”

“HA!” You couldn’t help it this time, you let out a bark of a laugh and doubled over. Thor moved the brush just in time to avoid poking you in the eye. “I – aha – I’m sorry, I just got this image of Loki with blue flames for hair and… oho my gohod!”

“Yes, I thought it would be quite amusing! However, he declined, unfortunately.” With you sitting more still and composed, he returned to his task, swiping paint along the length of your nose. You tried not to scrunch your nose at the sensation.

“Well, that’s a bummer. I’d have paid to see that,” you chuckled. “But you’ll make a fantastic Hercules, I’m sure!”

“Thank you, kind maiden!”

You both fell silent once again, Thor focusing on applying the paint to your chin and jawline while you sat and fantasized about what Thor might look like in his costume that evening. It was a brilliant idea, you had to admit. Hilarious, but brilliant. And you were certain he’d look incredibly handsome too. You were beginning to wish you’d gone the Greek goddess route. Maybe next year. Then you wouldn’t need to worry about so much costume paint…

You stiffened suddenly when the soft bristles of the brush passed just underneath your jaw line, sweeping from your ear to your chin. Oh, no. You hadn’t thought this through. If you were applying the paint yourself, it wouldn’t bother you so much, but with Thor dragging the soft bristles along the delicate skin of your neck, you had to bite your tongue hard to keep from giggling and jerking away.

No longer were you thinking about Thor’s costume – the only thing you could focus on was the ticklish sensation of the brush swiping along the left side of your neck. He gradually worked his way down from your jaw to your collarbone, the sensation only growing more unbearable the closer the brush came to that spot where your neck became your shoulder. You shut your eyes, trying desperately to block it out so he wouldn’t figure out –

“Are you alright?” Your eyes snapped open to see Thor gazing at you in concern, paint brush still poised in his hand.

“Hmm? Oh, yep! Fine! Er, I can take over from here though…”

“Nonsense! I’m already more than halfway finished! I promise you that I’ll leave the detailed work to you,” he insisted with a wink. You had to fight back a groan, knowing you couldn’t argue with him without either giving yourself away or making him feel bad. So, you steeled yourself and allowed him to continue, throwing every ounce of your concentration on preventing a smile from breaking out on your face.

But when he slid the bristles up under your chin, you couldn’t help but giggle.

Thor’s brow furrowed, tilting his head in confusion for a moment before realization dawned on him. An unnerving grin spread across his face as your own face began to feel like it was on fire.

“Am I tickling you?” he asked plainly, swiping the brush lightly along the underside of your jaw. You shrugged your shoulders as much as you could without getting paint on your shirt.

“Thohor!!” you whined, giving him a pathetic, pleading look. He laughed heartily, taking your chin in his free hand.

“You have to hold still, or I won’t be able to finish!” He swept the brush down the center of your neck from your chin to your collarbone, and you shuddered with a rapid stream of giggles flowing from your lips. It was obvious he was doing it on purpose now, making certain to keep his touch light to elicit louder giggles as he applied some paint just below your right ear.

“Ahahah THOR! Now you’re TRYING to tickle meHE!” You tilted your chin down to block more surface area, jerking it from Thor’s grasp.

“Lehet me finish!” The bristles brushed along your collarbone, and you squealed, throwing your hands up to grab at his wrists. Thor sighed, shaking his head as if it pained him and placing the paintbrush down on the vanity beside him. “Perhaps you need to let it all out of your system!”

“Wha- AHH THOR NOHO!” His large hands latched onto your sides and dug mercilessly into the soft skin. You grasped feebly at his wrists, knowing it wouldn’t do you much good to fight him but instinctively trying anyway.

“I’d suspected earlier that you might be ticklish, when I’d accidentally poked you right… here,” he observed teasingly, shifting a hand to scribble under your navel. You crumpled into yourself as you had earlier in the day when he’d caught you off guard, this time releasing loud laughter now that he already had you giggling. “I’ll admit, I did not realize just how ticklish you might be! You’re quite adorable!”

You whined at his comment, uncertain what else to say. That, in addition to his fingers traveling up your ribcage on one side while the other hand continued clawing at your belly, deprived you of coherent sentences anyhow. He wormed his way underneath your arm, suddenly shifting his other hand to flutter at your neck in one of the few spots that he hadn’t yet painted.

“AHAH THOHOR I NEED TO FIHINISH GETTING REHEHEADY!!” you protested, laughter pitching up in octave as his fingertips drilled into your upper ribs mercilessly.

“I’m helping you get ready!! You need to let out all the giggles so we can finish!” he insisted facetiously. He suddenly shifted both hands back to your belly, scratching into the sides not far below your ribs. You threw your head back in ticklish agony, only serving to earn a bright laugh from your assailant as he finished tickling you to pieces.

“IHI… THOHOR… MEH-MEHERCY…” you hiccupped, muscles growing weak with laughter. He threw in a few more ticklish prods to your belly before relenting, grinning fondly at you as you gasped to catch your breath.

“You are delightfully ticklish, why have I not learned this sooner?” he asked honestly.

“I don’t go around announcing it,” you quipped, rubbing the ticklish tingles off your sides. “And also, I… never mind.”

“No, go on, please!” he urged, watching you intently. You sighed.

“I’m… still sort of shy.”

Thor frowned, looking at you with concern in his eyes. “Do you not like that I tickled you?”

“No! No, it’s not that,” you insisted. Damn his directness. “I just… well, today was the first time I felt comfortable joking around and being silly with someone on the team.”

“I understand.” Thor placed a comforting hand on your knee. “Well, I am glad that I could bring that silliness out of you, then. I quite enjoy that side of you.”

“You do?” you asked timidly. He nodded, a bright, warm smile on his face.

“I’m afraid I must go get ready for the party myself,” Thor lamented, rising to his feet. “You’re probably better off taking it from here, I’d wager.” He pinched your side gently for emphasis, making you jump and squeak. “I’m excited to see how your costume looks when it’s complete!”

“I can’t wait to see yours!” you agreed, grinning. “I guess I’ll see you at the party then?”

“Yes…” Thor’s voice trailed off a bit, his eyes fixed on you with a certain hope behind them you hadn’t seen before. You tilted your head, urging him to explain what he was feeling. He slipped his hand into yours, nearly making you jump in surprise. “I do hope you’ll do me the honor of a dance this evening?”

An involuntary, giddy smile tugged at your lips. “I’m sure I could arrange for that.”

“Excellent!” He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I will seek you out later this evening, then.”

“Uh… y-yeah, l-later this evening!” Your voice trembled as he released your hand, grinning and winking at you before leaving your room to get himself ready for the party. You collapsed back into your chair, unable to wipe the giddy grin from your face. Thor wanted to dance with you. He loved your playful side. He’d just tickled you for a solid five minutes and spent a good half hour helping you put on your costume makeup. When you’d woken this morning, you’d never have anticipated the day to be this eventful before the party even began. You couldn’t wait to catch up to him at the party and see where the evening took you.

And you were right – he looked damn good in that Hercules costume.

[sweettodo]

best friends dad.

levi ackerman x freader.

includes : dub con - [ age gap ] , smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting. pretty much porn with no plot.

wc : 2,7k

a/n, thank you for 600 followers !!! <33 i love every single one of you.

••

She's your best friend, your closest ally, your soul sister.

She has been there with you through thick and thin, since youth, you two took showers together as children, ate off the same plate, went on countless vacations, share the same clothes. What would your life be without her?

Your behavior prevails to be horrendous.

It catches you when you're alone, or when there's nothing to distract you. Creeping up, lingering around your soul- guilt- quite the foe.

You lay on your bed, shame depleting you the more you remained in silence, left alone with your thoughts. Staring at the soft white ceiling, the sun scarcely pouring through the cracks of the shades, rendering it impossible to fall back asleep.

It was eating you alive, it was driving you nuts, you were so selfish. It was too late to go back on this.

And this isn't even the worst part of it all...

Your fathers are best friends, also close since childhood. Being neighbors, your mothers were close too, you all were practically family.

Hence, it boils down to one thing- one simple, and easy question.

That being, why was your 'second father' mere inches away from you, naked, barely covered by a sheet, and sleeping in your bed?

Yet, as disgusted as you are with yourself, you're turning to face the sleeping man, placing a small kiss below his ear, his arms instantaneously fastening around your frame, pulling you closer to his body, he loves when you wake him up like this, you're both accustomed to this routine.

After all, you did sleep in the same bed more often than you'd like the admit.

Living alone in your apartment made it easier for the both of you to be with each other, though your best friend resided here, she was at college, living in a dorm out of state for extended periods.

He told his wife and other children the ridiculous excuse, 'I'll be back in a week or so, on business' and he'd come straight to you. Always. With take-out dinner, a duffle over his shoulder, and a plethora of condoms in his pocket.

Call it disturbing, but it's almost perverse to give his wife kudos, 'no wonder you tied the knot.' because shit, you wish you could.

No one knows about the infidelity, so it was fun to sneak around; since becoming an adult, that's when family dinners with the neighbors took a turn, your body filled with a mix of excitement and angst almost every Friday.

He always sits next to you, to your right, hand secretly placed on your thigh under the tablecloth. He finds himself unable to resist your body.

The second you turned eighteen he was ready to pounce, he couldn't take his eyes off you.

He's so good at what he does, he knows how to sneak around, he always plays his cards right, he knew you couldn't resist the temptation; the temptation of your best friend's father.

•

How it started was almost too cliché.

•

"Hey, is y/f/n home? We're supposed to be getting ready to go out, she's not answering my texts."

"She's not home, likely caught up at work."

You nod, "how about you come in and wait?" he allows you in, "what's the occasion?" he laughs, plopping down on the couch, you sit on the other side, placing your dress, makeup bag, and shoes on the floor beside your feet.

"A friend's birthday dinner, she just turned eighteen." He smiles, looking back at the television, "she's always making us late." You chuckle, your phone going off at the same time, Levi watching your thumbs frantically respond to the disappointing message.

"She won't be off for another few hours." Levi sighs, "I'll just hang out in her room until then."

"You can stay down here, you're not in my way." He quickly replies, you accept his offer and slip off your shoes.

"How's your mom?" he changes the topic, standing and walking out of the room towards the direction of the kitchen, "and your dad."

"Both good, how about you and-"

"Good." he interrupts, returning with a glass in his hands, likely a glass of whiskey, that was his go-to.

Oddly enough, you felt unsettled being alone with him, something inside of you remained nervous, but not necessarily a bad sentiment.

You didn't spend much time with Levi alone, most of the time it was with your father and y/f/n, so you sat quietly, both watching the screen mounted on the wall in front of you.

Little did you know, he was feeling the same way, awkward and nervy.

"Do you need to get ready at any particular time?" he cuts the silence.

"Uhm, I didn't expect to wait, because I have to shower."

He hums in agreement, "you can shower here if you want." You didn't even bat an eye, standing and saying 'okay', trotting upstairs towards your best friend's room, dropping all your belongings on the floor.

Leaving the room, you're opening the linen closet to retrieve a towel and head straight for the bathroom.

This was your second home, why leave the bathroom door locked while you showered?

His leg tapped in anticipation, he knew now was such a perfect time, he had to do something about how he was feeling.

Levi told himself that this feeling would pass, he was disgusted in himself.

The first time he found himself with his hand wrapped around his cock, making himself cum to the thought of his daughter's best friend.

He had never thought about you sexually, it was almost like a switch was flipped when you came home, stumbling drunk with his daughter the night of your birthday to avoid your own parents, you were now an adult, and that's when things changed.

He thought about you in so many twisted ways, and the fetish only grew- it grew day by day, month by month.

Now, you were only a few months shy of nineteen, in college, in your own living space, independent, he loved it; and every day, he prayed to God he'd stop feeling so guilty about his vices.

But he was trapped, stewing on his thoughts before he went to bed at night, on the way to work, waking up in the morning- he only thought about you. He needed to do something.

He found his feet quickly moving up the stairs, entering his bedroom, and pacing, this was sure as hell a tough dilemma, but he knew he could get you to see it too.

"Levi, I- uh, need some help."

Like it was a blessing, a foot in the door, he's now knocking before you allow him in, you stand there only in a towel, hair wet and your body dripping with water, "the thing won't turn off, I'm sorry."

He could barely swallow, "I'll fix it."

The hot steam made him overwhelmed, the fresh smell of the strawberry-scented body wash that you had after your shower was sending him into a frenzy.

You stood there, watching him turn the hot water off, you acknowledged how close you were to him, naked except for the towel, he was so close to your legs, your wet body.

He stood straight after fixing the faucet, wiping his hands on his shirt, "thanks."

You step around him, down the hall, and towards your friend's room, "y/n," turning, Levi's there, in the hallway, a few feet behind you, "I need to talk to you."

He knew now was the only time he could fix this disgusting fixation he has on you.

You pursued him, you followed him straight to his bedroom, you allowed him to close the door behind you; you felt his hands grab your own, pinning them above your head against the wall.

You allowed him to kiss you, you kissed him back, and you savored the taste of him. It was almost like you didn't allow your mind to register what you were doing.

"I've been meaning to do this." He breathes, catching up on his lack of oxygen.

You didn't say anything, your towel was coming loose, his free hand encircling around the small of your back, pulling you against him, "Levi." You uttered, his head dips down, kissing your lips as he's whisking you off your feet and onto his shared bed with his wife.

Your legs wrap around his waist, his elbows propped up beside your head, his tongue swiping across your lip, you do the same, what the fuck were you doing?

You pull away from him, "Levi- this is bad." Hand pressing against his shoulder, pushing him off of you gently, "this is so bad."

He moves his hand through his hair, "no one has to know."

"I gotta' go get dressed," yet your legs don't move, "fuck- fuck this is bad, she's gonna hate me."

"No, no she won't," he objects, pushing you onto your back, "you want it, don't you?"

Your stomach was doing backflips, nauseated almost. You saw his tight body, you've always loved it- like a father.

You felt his cock between your legs instants earlier, you didn't comprehend just how willing you were; how wet you were between your legs.

"Let me show you," throwing off his shirt, "don't worry, no ones gonna know,"

He sees the look on your face, stunned.

"Don't you trust me?" your head was spinning.

"I do."

Your head is pushed onto his pillow, making sure he doesn't strip you of your towel just yet.

The feeling of performing something so bad, so disturbing, so sinful, it was driving you nuts, your stomach twisted, filled with butterflies as you saw the man strip in front of you. This was really happening.

"Open."

Your legs open, but you hold your towel down, feeling his eyes bore into you, "you can show me."

His hands open your legs, gasping, he's kissing you again, laying between your legs with just his boxers severing the direct touch.

"God, this fucking body."

The towel slipping down your chest, his hands instantly cupping your tits, the now, cold droplets of water from your shower making your nipples twice as hard, he smiles, "you've always been so beautiful- so innocent too, you know that?" his hands trail down your sides, feeling your flesh in his palms, up to your thighs.

You felt so dirty, you wanted more, you wanted him to touch every inch of your body, you wanted to feel secure and full, "you want me to touch you don't you. You want it?" he sees your pleading eyes, he sees how hungry you looked, he brings his hand to your beck, squeezing your jugular, "say it, use your words.”

“I do, but y/f/n, Levi.” Your words meant one thing, but your actions were proving another. You didn't know how much you needed this- how much you longed to be touched by a man who helped raise you.

It made you sick, but fuck, it felt so good, “you want it, just as I do,” he pulls back, taking his hand and forcing open your mouth, “here.”

He wet his fingers with your saliva, ripping the towel that barely covered your lower half. “Look at how pretty, so wet too.”

You hiss, his finger pressing down against your clit, your thigh spasming from the harsh pressure against your nerves, “I’m gonna make you cum, you want that, right?”

“Yes, please make me cum.” You plead, his thumb still pressing hard against your bud, “f-fuck!” your legs slamming around his arm.

“Open those legs, I didn't say you could close them.” He commands, getting a better look at your pussy, his hand moving down the threads of his boxers with his free hand, cock springing from his constraints.

“Spit.” He steals more alive from your tongue, using it to lubricate his cock; he was thick, girthy with few veins decorating up the bottom to right below the tip. His chest heaving, hands pinning up your thighs, your legs wide open for him to see.

You whined, his throbbing tip teasing you by soaking up your slick, he was so painfully hard- the way he knocked against the tight hole in front of him.

“You want my cock? You want your other daddy to fuck you, huh?” You nod, eyes begging with every ounce of your entity.

You nod desperately, “please- fuck me.”

He obeys, gripping your thighs, pressing them upwards as he’s leaning down towards you, slowly sliding past your entrance.

Splitting you open, immense pressure brings you to screams, your eyes screwed shut as you spit out the man's name.

“Can barely fit- fuck.” His shoulders lax, cock seeping deeper into your pussy.

He pushes back and forth into you, the sound of your pussy juicing around his cock filled the room as you two take in the feeling of each other's touch.

“S’big- so big, Levi.” Your tongue lols out, he takes it as a welcome to capture your lips, sucking on your tongue as you mewl against his mouth.

He pulls away from you, “say my name,” he groans, “say it, what's my name?” his cock filling you so well, you could say many things; tears brimming your eyes as he's stabbing your cervix with his tip.

You wail, gasping for air, “daddy- please harder!”

His hips piston into you, slamming against yours as he's speeding up, cock ramming into you senselessly, harder thrusts when he hears you call him by his name, fucking you stupid.

“Go on and cum all over my cock, you're so close- fuck- you keep squeezing me-” he can barely contain himself.

But he keeps pace, the sweet spot in the depths of your pussy being abused, pussy squelching with every rut of his wide hips.

You're so close, inching closer towards release, a mantra of his name rolling out of your mouth, you feel so full, packed to the fucking brim.

The weight of his body on top of yours, cock reaching impossible lengths inside of you, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest glistening with sweat, “so good, creaming all over my dick, yeah? You love it.” He boasts, you whined, mouth agape.

“So close- daddy- so close.”

“Do it, you're so tight- fuck, can't get over it.”

The coil in your stomach tightening, your body going numb as he rips an incredible orgasm out of your weak body, “that's right, squirt all over my cock, God this pussy s’ fuckin’ amazing.”

He slowed down, bearing his high, watching as your cum drips down your pussy, his thighs and stomach soaked with your essence as it drips down his thighs. Amazed at the sight, he continues to steadily fuck into your convulsing walls, you're body shaking from the debilitating orgasm.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your eyes surrounded by a starry white, wet noises driving Levi closer to climax, the sheets below the both of you soaked, “open those eyes.” He commands.

You open your eyes, legs squeezing tighter around his sides, “you’re gonna swallow my cum, right baby?” he sees you nod your head, needy to taste him down your throat.

He provides you with a few strong thrusts, before slowly pulling out of you, your hand quickly wrapping around the base of his cock, rolling out your tongue like a whore.

You take his tip on the pad of your tongue, swirling around, his eyebrows scrunching from the sensitive touch, “fuck, so fuckin’ perfect,” hand coming down to caress your head before dipping his fingers between the- still wet hair from your shower.

He twitches, releasing his load in your mouth, the salty taste tainting your tastebuds, he watches it coat your tongue, catching his breath as he's seeing you swallow every drop of cum, his thumb strokes across your bottom lip, smirking.

“Look at the mess you made, now I have to clean these sheets.” Gripping your hair between his digits, he's pushing your head down to look at the damp sheets, you gnaw on your bottom lip.

He pushes you back down on the bed, sloppily kissing your red and swollen lips once more.

“That cunt is just as good as I thought it was.”

[padfootagain]

The Adviser

Hey! I'm writing this little fic for @musicallisto's event! I'm using her prompts 4 and 29 for Caspian :

4. “Can you stay with me?”

29.“Their hands on your skin…”

I'm also including a bit of the drunken confessions trope for this one!

I hope you all like it, tell me what you think about it, and thank you again Clara for hosting this event! This is just pure fluff, you know me, it's soft hours time!!!! We love cute clichés here!

Pairing : Caspian x reader

Word Count: 3597 (I've proofread but I've been writing for four hours and my brain is fried, I am so sorry if there are more mistakes than usual, forgiiiiiive meeeeee!!!)

You shouldn't have been drinking like this. Deep down, you knew it was a mistake. But what choice did you have? It was the only way to forget what this princess what doing at that moment.

Her hand was on Caspian's arm, and you didn't fail to notice the way her fingers slipped down the length of his velvet sleeve to brush against the skin of his wrist. You took another large gulp of liquor, but the image was already printed all over your eyelids when you closed your eyes and tried to blink the sight away.

It was more than you could stand. So much more than what you were humanly able to stomach. And the worst part of it all, really, was that none of this was Caspian's fault. He didn't even know about how you felt for him, so how could he have guessed that him letting her touch him like this, being so close to him, were hurting so.

But it did hurt. God, it hurt so bad.

The room was full of noises and conversations. You were celebrating the signing of a new commercial agreement between Narnia and their neighbours. It was exciting, and all the politicians that had been involved in the elaboration of the treaty and its negotiations were now enjoying a much-deserved celebration. The treaty had been signed earlier in the afternoon, and hopefully it was the first step towards a friendship between the two nations.

And you should have been celebrating as well, because after all, this treaty was your baby. You had written parts of it, you had worked for months to convince lords that this treaty was a good thing. You had worked and worked relentlessly for so long on this project. It was your baby, in a way.

When you had begun this adventure, you had envisioned yourself in the position you were finally in now. With a signed treaty resting on the king's desk in his study, and surrounded by lords, princesses and other important political figures, drinking wine and eating pastries and laughing as the future seemed a little brighter than it was before.

What you had never imagined though, was that during the months you had spent working closely with the King of Narnia, you would fall madly, desperately, hopelessly in love with him.

You wanted to slap some sense into your own head for falling for him the way you had, but it would be useless. There was nothing you could have done to avoid it. And every time you looked at him, you were reminded of this cruel truth. Nothing could have prevented you from falling in love with the king, not even yourself, not even him. Nothing, no one, could save you now.

Sometimes, it was driving you mad, really. The way he was so kind, and a little shy around you. You forgot that he was even a king, then. He had a way to make you feel safe by simply smiling at you. There was something in the way he walked, in the way he held himself, that would have betrayed his rank if he had tried to hide it. He was so… inspiring, in a way. More than that, he was magnetic. When he walked into a room, it was clear who he was. A mere glimpse at him, and even if one had no idea what the King of Narnia looked like, they would have recognized him. But then he would blush in the most precious way when complimented, bending his head as if to hide his reaction, and there was so much hesitation in his polite smiles, as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Maybe it was that contrast that had make your heart melt. The way he was the most charismatic man when you saw him, and the kindest when you talked to him.

Yes, yes, that was it. Or at least, part of it. Maybe it was the starting point of it all. Then, every single detail that made him unique had sealed the deal, and your heart was his, for good.

At the end of the day, though, no matter how much you loved him and how friendly and kind he was to you, he was still the King, and you were merely a representative. There was nothing special about your ancestry, even if your position now was quite high in the government. But you were one of the King's advisors, that was all, and every time you looked at one of these princesses throwing all their charms and manners at Caspian, you really couldn't hold it against him to fall for them and not you.

If he had known these inner thoughts of yours, he would have been adamant at contradicting you, at telling you that you were just as special as they were. But he was busy talking to one of them, and you were busy drinking. It ought to be the way things were meant to be, right?

After a couple more glasses of wine, your head was starting to spin and Caspian seemed to finally notice that something was off with you. He frowned hard as he saw you reaching for the nearest wall to keep your balance, while you lifted your glass to your lips again. You finished all the alcohol in one gulp. It wasn't like you though, to drink like this…

At first, he thought maybe you were simply letting loose more than usual in celebration for the treaty, but you didn't seem happy at all. On the contrary, your features were twisted in one of pain. Were you sick? A wave of fear rushed to his heart, crushing the little organ in his chest. He hurried to excuse himself and leave the princess he had been talking to. He was aware it was barely polite, but if you were unwell, he didn't exactly care about the etiquette. In fact, all his thoughts were set upon you and his worry now, he couldn't even realize what he was doing as he crossed the room in just a few long strides, ignoring people in the crowd trying to intercept him as he passed by.

You hadn't noticed him approaching, you had settled your attention on the marble ground, in an attempt to avoid seeing Caspian talk with the flirty princess that had been clinging to him for the past hour. Only when his brown boots appeared on the floor right before you did you notice his presence. You looked up in a jolt, your hair growing with fear and apprehension, while your quick movement made your head spin even more than before.

"Your Majesty," you mumbled, trying to stand a little straighter. "Can I… do anything for you?"

Your words were slurred, obvious sign of your intoxication. Caspian's frown only deepened.

"I was about to ask you the same question, you don't seem to be well," the king answered.

"I… I am perfectly fine," you lied.

"You seem to need a bit of fresh air," Caspian insisted. "Let me accompany you to the gardens."

You didn't have the strength to fight against him or argue in any way. Besides, Caspian was right, you did need a bit of fresh air to clear your mind. So you let him take your arm, assuring your balance, while he guided you outside.

The afternoon was slowly dying out into the early evening. The sun was still quite high in the summer sky, but the heat it released had diminished as the hours passed by. A salty breeze was blowing through the roses in full blossoms and the branches of the tall oaks that offered their shades to the visitors. It was quiet though, most of the inhabitants of the castle being either busy with their daily tasks, or at the reception. It was an easy task for Caspian to find a quiet spot for the two of you to walk by.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, noticing your steps were a little steadier, even if he still kept a careful hold on your arm, just in case.

"I did need a bit of air, indeed. Thank you. I feel better," you nodded.

You tried to give him a smile, but it was harder to hide your feelings when you were drunk. It seemed more like a wince, instead, and Caspian fully turned to you this time, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the narrow path in between the bushes of roses. He remained silent for a while, the noises of the wind in branches and the bees buzzing in the flowers the only sounds you could hear. And in this quiet place, staring right into the king's dark eyes was even more hypnotizing than usual. You were suddenly very aware that the two of you were alone. And very aware that his hand still rested on your arm too…

"Are you sick? What is wrong?"

Under his insisting tone, you recognized worry. If Caspian had tried to hide it, he had failed miserably.

"I… am quite fine. I think I simply celebrated a little too much…"

"You seemed sad back there," the king shook his head, cutting you off because you could finish your lie. "You did not seem to be celebrating at all. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I guess… I must be very tired. The negotiations were difficult and…"

"Why are you lying to me?"

You merely stared at him, not knowing what to answer.

"I know you are lying. I know you. Why will you not tell me what is bothering you?"

"It… is nothing…"

"Is it why you drank too much?"

"I am not drunk…"

"Yes, you are. You can barely stand."

"I can," you replied, even if it wasn't true. You knew that if Caspian suddenly let go of you, you would probably fall down in the roses, and the thought of the many thorns cutting your skin wasn't particularly appealing to you.

Caspian's frown slowly disappeared though. From worry, his expression changed to one of sadness and hurt, but you didn't understand why.

"I am your friend, Y/N. Why will you not tell me? I could help…"

You let out a bitter laugh. The liquor was taking the better of your judgement, for you would have never answered him this way had you been sober.

"My friend? As if we were friends…"

Caspian stared at you with the most puzzled expression you had ever seen adorning his handsome features.

"What do you mean? Of course, we are friends."

"We are not friends. You are the king, and I am… a commoner working for you."

There was so much hurt passing through Caspian's eyes, but you didn't feel guilty. It was true, after all. And the sight of this woman with him… with her eyes all over him, and the way she leaned towards him…

It was more than you could take…

"I thought we were more than just that by now," Caspian answered in a low voice.

"How could we be?"

"Why did you drink so much tonight?"

"Because I cannot take it anymore… I… these feelings I just… I can't fight them…"

"Feelings? What…?"

But then it dawned on him, only, not completely.

Of course, a question of heart would explain your sadness and your drinking tonight, such behaviours that were so out of character for you. He wasn't particularly good at hiding the way his heart broke in his chest at the thought that you loved someone else, though. He had to be thankful for your inebriated state that made you fail to notice his reaction when it was written all over his features.

He opened his mouth to ask who this was about, but you spoke first. The wine was making your mind blurry, your thoughts turning into a whirlwind, bumping into each other and making your usual filters lift. In any other circumstances, you would have never said any of the words you were about to utter, but then, liquor and broken hearts make confessions tumble easily.

"I cannot do this anymore. I want to resign."

"Resign? What…?"

"I cannot handle it. Being around you all the time…" you went on, barely realizing Caspian was trying to speak. "And today seeing her… her hands on your skin and…"

Your voice broke, and you lost your balance for good. Caspian was still here though, and he managed to catch you in his arms right before you would fall to the dusty ground.

His brain was repeating again and again your words, trying to analyse their meanings…

Did it mean that… you… was it about him, then?

"I will take you to your room. You need to rest. Come on…"

With the gentlest gestures, he guided you back inside and to your room, crossing empty corridors and avoiding people as much as he could. No one else but him needed to see you like this.

He helped you settle in bed, and only then did he notice that you were crying.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

He brushed your tears away. He had never touched you this way before, and it made his heart pound in his chest like it had never before. He let his fingers linger a little longer on your cheek.

"You must rest. We will talk about this in the morning."

He gave you a warm smile before turning away, but you held him back, catching his wrist before he could walk too far away. He turned to you again with a puzzled look.

"Can you stay with me?"

Your voice was barely more than a whisper, uncertain and fragile. He was used to hearing it loud and confident while you discussed amongst politicians and advisers, it was such a drastic change, it scared him. It was evident you needed someone to take care of you at that moment, and Caspian wouldn't have let anyone else do it in his stead.

He should have gone back to the reception, but how could he leave your side now?

So, he dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat down, offering you a reassuring smile. He held your hand in his, giving it a soothing squeeze.

"As you wish. But you need to sleep now."

"Are you angry?"

"No, I am not. We will talk about it tomorrow. Now, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

You did as ordered, and fell asleep as soon as your eyelids had fallen. The warmth of Caspian's hand on yours was the last thing you remembered before surrendering to slumber.

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

Your headache wasn't the worst thing that happened when you woke up. Nor was your nausea, or the disgusting taste that lingered on your tongue. No, the worst part of waking up was the note you found folded by the side of your bed.

Caspian would be waiting to see you in his office.

If parts of the previous day were a little blurry, you still remembered perfectly your conversations with the King.

He would ask you to resign. Or he might even fire you altogether. He could have asked you already for someone to pick up your things and carry them out of the castle… but then, Caspian was a kind man, and you weren't altogether surprised when you picked up an outfit to dress up and found all your belongings exactly where they belonged.

After your behaviour, there was no other alternative. You had been disrespectful, and you highly doubted that the king would appreciate working with someone who had romantic feelings for him.

But your pride made you decide that you would resign first. You would not let him throw you out of the castle. If you had to leave, which was painful enough already, never to see the man you loved again, then at the very least, you could be spared the humiliation of being pushed away. At least, you would be the one leaving.

You made your way to his office, at last. Taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. Your heart missing a beat when you heard Caspian's low voice answering on the other side. You walked in.

Caspian welcomed you with a smile, he was sitting at his desk, his back to the stained-glass windows that painted colours all across the room. The light coming from behind him made the image ethereal, a vision you could have summoned in one of your dreams…

"Good morning, Y/N. Please, take a sit," he invited you. "Are you feeling better?"

You struggled to swallow, cleared your voice. His voice made butterflies tickle your belly, but you ignored the feeling. You ignored how much you wanted to comply and approach him. This was not the time. Now was the time to be strong.

You remained at a safe distance from his desk, refusing to sit down.

"Your Majesty," you tried to keep your voice steady, but couldn't help the slight shake that accompanied your words. "I am well, thank you."

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted him, raising your hand to silence him.

"Please, your Majesty… let me speak."

He nodded, letting you continue. You took a deep breath, and finally gathered the strength you needed to speak again.

"I…My behaviour yesterday was… unforgiveable. And I am aware that I have crossed a line. What transpired last night is the proof that I can no longer work for you and serve Narnia at the best of my abilities as your adviser anymore. It is why I would like to resign. I would be very thankful if you would agree to allow me to stay in the castle for one last week, to allow me to look for a new home. My resignation will be effective immediately, and I can write it down, if you want me to."

Caspian remained silent for a moment, before slowly standing up, and walking towards you. His hands behind his back, he only stopped when he was but one step away from you. You stared at him, waiting for his reaction, completely motionless.

"I agree that… your confessions from last night make it impossible for us to continue like this. Things cannot remain the same now."

You fought with all your might to refrain your tears, that merely gather at the corner of your eyes, but didn't fall. You didn't flinch, nor did you back away though.

"I do think that you need to resign from your position in our government. I would not be… proper… to have my advisor be…"

"I will inform the rest of the staff immediately," you interrupted him. Which was incredibly rude, interrupting the king… but you couldn't take it. You couldn't stomach the pain that it would make you feel to hear him say the words he was about to utter.

It was enough that he didn't love you. You didn't need him to say it out loud.

You turned on your heels, but Caspian didn't let you step away. He caught your wrist before you could move away, and you turned back towards him, your eyes growing in surprise.

"I have not dismissed you, yet," he told you, quirking an eyebrow.

"I apologize, your Majesty."

Caspian gave you a smile. You wondered what was worth smiling for though.

"I thought we had agreed that there was no need to call me this way when we are alone."

"Things have changed."

"Not nearly enough, yet."

It was your time to frown.

"There is no need for you to move out of the Castle."

"But I…"

"Would you like to take a walk in the gardens with me this afternoon?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely confused.

"I… don't understand…"

"Did you mean what you said? Yesterday? Or did I not understand you right? I thought you said you had feelings for me."

You nodded, unable to answer, fleeing Caspian's gaze.

"I did… but…"

"Well, I am asking you if you would like to take a walk with me this afternoon."

"But I… why?"

His smile grew fonder, and you noticed the way his fingertips were shaking when he reached to hold your other hand.

"I… was hoping you would… like to spend some time with me," Caspian added, hesitant this time, a little shy, pinker shades appearing to colour his cheeks. "Not as my advisor but… as… a friend…"

"A friend?" you repeated, stunned.

"Or well… maybe… maybe more than a friend."

"But I… I am…"

"I feel the same way."

He had said the last sentence as fast as he could, forcing the words out like he would have pulled an arrow out of a wound. In one, quick motion, before the strength and courage would fail him.

Your mouth fell open.

"You… you do?" you stuttered, out of breath for some reason. You only just then noticed that you seemed to have forgotten how to breathe altogether.

"I do. And well… I am afraid that you need to resign, for it would be impossible for me to court one of my advisors. But as you have done so, I thought… what about a walk?"

There were a thousand thoughts swarming in your head, and most of them were going against Caspian's idea. Most of them told you this was impossible.

But you chose to simply ignore all of them, and answer what your heart was desperately begging you to say instead.

"Yes. Yes, a walk would be lovely."

[miss-smutty]

Forbidden

Chapter 3

A/N- Evey couple of chapters you will get Professor Hemsworth's POV and this is the first one 🥵 I really wanted to write his story and hear his thoughts too.

Summary- He can't get her out of his mind, the girl in the coffee shop. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 2.9K

Pairing- Prof!Hems X Reader

Warnings- Age gap (OC is 20) student/professor relationship, swearing, dirty talk

18+ Only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th Sept 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle @help2700 @presidentpotts

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chris Pov

My Apartment was silent as usual, empty like always when I arrived home from work, throwing my coat and bag on to the sofa and slumping down next to them.

I couldn't stand the silence, it taunted me and brought back memories I'd rather not remember. I'd thought about getting a roommate but still hadn't gotten around to posting out an ad, the idea made me nervous. Although I hated being alone, living with a stranger would be even worse. I turned on the TV to fill the expanse of the large empty room that I'd work so hard for but ultimately meant absolutely nothing to me.

My mind began to wander back to this morning and the chance meeting with the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. She'd taken my breath away and made me so nervous that I'd used some cheesy chat up line. I'd known at the time it would come back to haunt me tonight, no wonder she ran out of there as soon as she could. Thats why I hesitated, my hand brushed against the small of her back when I was about to ask her for her number and it took away my sensibility. I leaned in like I was about to kiss her, thank god I stopped myself though, how ridiculous would that have been?

I'd spoke to her for no more than ten minutes but somehow felt like I'd known her all my life. Asking for her number wouldn't have been the most unusual thing but she was in such a rush and I didn't want to make her late. There's absolutely nothing more I hate than tardiness.

I still couldn't get her off of my mind, she was beautiful, long dark hair that flowed down her back and the most piercing green eyes I'd ever seen. I couldn't stop looking into them, framed by dark eyelashes that made the emerald green pop even more. It's been a long time since I'd met a woman that made me feel as nervous as she did. The only thing is, she was young, much younger than me and I'd be fooling myself to think I'd actually stand a chance with her. Even if by some miracle I did, she deserved more than what I could give her, I was a mess, even after all this time I was still living in the past.

**********

I woke up feeling like a teenage boy again, a tent of my erection in the cotton sheets sprawled across my middle. I'd dreamt about the girl all night and honestly nothing about it was innocent. I rubbed at my eyes and stretched my muscles before finally getting out of bed, I had my first Junior Comms class to teach today and of course, I couldn't be late.

To say I was dreading today would be an understatement, I'd made a deal with the Dean to teach the Comms class because none of the other professors were willing and I was desperate for a job. I was hoping that if I exceeded expectations during my first semester I would finally get to teach psychology like I'd planned in the first place. Of course that meant being on my best behaviour and a lot of arse kissing, which I would do, albeit reluctantly.

The air was crisp this morning as I set off walking towards the university, luckily for me I didn't live to far away from the campus and the walk would help distract my thoughts because God knows they needed distracting. They always did.

Before I knew it, I'd arrived at the halls, looking up at the architecture of the building and realising my idea to walk obviously hadn't worked. I'd barely paid attention the entire time and it was only muscle memory that had gotten me to my required destination.

I held onto the door handle of the lecture hall and took a deep breath before stepping in, the room erupting into wolf whistles was not what I expected but admittedly better than what I was thinking. I scanned the room and my students, rolling my eyes at the girls lining the front row, their eager faces taking me in. 

The class was full of typical students, the usual cliques you see at every educational institution. The jocks and cheerleaders, the nerds and oh fuck. The air was almost knocked from my lungs when I spotted her sat at the back of class. The girl I'd been talking to in the coffee shop yesterday, the girl that had been on my mind and in my dreams ever since. She was here, right in front of me which meant she was my student and younger than I'd actually thought. Fuck.

Even though she was now out of bounds I couldn't take my goddamn eyes off of her, the way her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders. I could feel my cock tingling when my eyes fell to her low cut top and that unreal cleavage. I pulled my eyes away from her so as not to draw attention and focused on preparing for the lesson, leaving the students to whisper for a while longer while I recovered my composure.

Like a magnet, my eyes unwillingly kept finding their way back to her and she looked uncomfortable, squirming in her seat. I was making her uncomfortable and I still couldn't stop myself, I frowned as I subtly watched her cheeks blush and realised she's probably embarrassed because she'd been flirting with her Professor. Of course she'd be embarrassed, I was so much older than her but was it wrong that I didn't feel one ounce of awkwardness at the fact I had been flirting with a student?

All I could think about as I watched her tits bounce as she moved In her seat, was burying my face in her cleavage and I knew I had to look away before my dick reacted. The last thing I needed in a class full of students was to be walking around with a fucking erection.

I could stand there and watch her all day but certain students had stopped talking and they were waiting for me to speak and I'd almost forgotten why I was here In the first place. I really needed to get my head in the game, being infatuated with a student would definitely not get me the promotion I was looking for.

I pushed my hands in my tight pockets, hoping to stretch the fabric a little so my semi-hard dick wasn't so apparent, then my eyes were drawn to her again and she was talking to Jake. That pissed me off and I could feel my jaw tensing as I cleared my throat rather forcibly, hoping to get the attention of the whole class at the same time as distracting her from the rather friendly conversation she was having with another guy. A guy her age at that.

"Now I've got your attention, we're going to use our first session to get to know each other a little better. You'll be doing quite a lot of speeches so it's best if you feel comfortable with one another. I'll start by introducing myself." I looked at her again, gulping hard when I saw her with the end of her pen in her mouth and the way her lips wrapped around it. Fuck. "So, I'm Professor Hemsworth and I'm originally from Melbourne in Australia." I looked to her and she smiled, remembering what we spoke about yesterday.

A student started with the typical Australian stereotypes although I'm actually surprised no one told me to throw another shrimp on the Barbie. I laughed along anyway, I'd been expecting it, it's literally the first thing anyone who isn't Australian says when they first meet me. So when I told him it wasn't very original I meant it, I'd heard it a thousand times before and I'll hear it a thousand times again.

I told the class a little about myself before informing them they would do the same, it didn't go down well, the room filled with groans. I looked to her and she looked downright terrified, I sympathized for her, it wasn't easy speaking in front of a room full of people but was the best way to break the ice.

"Claire Abbott." I called, watching the blonde at the front stand, nervously. She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger as she smiled at me, I knew what she was doing. I quickly glanced at the girl from the coffee shop as she rolled her eyes at the blonde at the front, I smirked back at her, amused at her tolerance for predictable girls.

"I erm… I don't know what to say?" The blonde said, looking at me questioningly.

"Just anything about yourself that we might find interesting, the first thing that comes to mind."

"Well I own four horses and I'm the cheer captain." I had to stop myself from laughing when she rolled her eyes again but the smile soon disappeared when I saw Jake lean over to speak to her and the way she laughed at him made my blood boil. I was seething, not because they were speaking instead of listening but because she was speaking to him instead of me.

"You two at the back, we'll wait for you shall we?" I called them out, my voice more stern than I expected. I was pissed off that Jake would easily be able to get to know her and I couldn't. She stared at me, her eyes wide, she was surprised I'd called them out in front of everyone which made me even more pissed off because that probably blew my chances even more. What the hell am I thinking? What chances, I need to remember I'm her fucking Professor.

She sat silently through the rest of the class, I still couldn't keep my eyes off of her and thankfully neither could she. She looked flustered and I liked it, I liked that I could make her feel that way without even touching her. She was so goddamn hot I could hardly concentrate on what the other students were saying.

When I glanced down at the sheet of names in front of me and saw Jake's name my jaw clenched.

"Jake Hudson." I couldn't help narrowing my eyes as he stood up, I just knew he'd say something cocky and I was so fucking jealous of him right now. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, I needed to keep my cool, especially in a room full of students and her. If she knew what I was really like she wouldn't look at me the way she did.

"Hi, I'm Jake." I bit onto the inside of my gum, that bit of pain keeping me grounded. "I'm also from Australia." He gave me that fucking cocky half arsed smile I'd been waiting for and the adrenaline shot through me. I was thankful no one noticed apart from maybe the one person in here I didn't want to notice. She was watching me carefully. I had to loosen my tie a little as he continued to speak, I was burning up with rage.

I'm glad class was almost over, I needed a stiff drink and I needed it now. I looked at my sheet of names again and there were only a couple left, I wondered which one was hers. I needed to know her name. Fuck. I needed to know everything about her.

"Jessica Watson." She stood up. Fuck, Jessica, it was a cute name and fit her perfectly. I was mesmerized with her and the way she spoke as she tucked her long hair behind her ears. "These last couple of days have been pretty eventful for me." She looked right at me, what was she going to say? "I'm living the life of a romance novels heroine and I'm excited to see what the next couple of days bring." Oh fuck. Was she talking about meeting me? Or Jake? I like to think by the way she studied me as she spoke, she was talking about me. This was wrong, so wrong but why did it feel so right? I forgot there was anybody else in the room, my cock twinging as I pictured myself fucking her on this desk. I needed to stop thinking like this, it's unprofessional and completely immoral. I shook my head and turned back to the class.

"I hope we all feel a bit more comfortable with each other now, some of you shared some pretty revealing things." I looked at Jessica. "Some of you, not so much." Then raised my eyebrows at a group of guys in the middle of class that had used thier time to inform everyone about the party at their frat house this weekend. "I'll have a schedule for you all next time I see you, anybody that has any questions can see me after class, everyone else is free to leave." I looked at her one last time, hoping she'd use this opportunity to come and speak to me.

I sighed when I sat back at my desk and a group of girls took their opportunity, I wasn't in the mood for it but answered their questions anyway. I didn't take my eyes from Jessica, especially when Jake started speaking to her again. The girls in front of me were taking up my time, trying to flirt with me instead of asking relevant questions and I was over it.

"Do you actually have any questions about the course ladies? I have other things to be getting on with if not." I was a little short with them without actually meaning to be. I just wanted them out of my goddamn way so I could see what was going on with Jessica and Jake.

The girls finally left, more like stormed off but I couldn't care less right now. She was still sat at her desk which means she waited until I was alone which has got to be a good sign. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence driving me insane so I cleared my throat and she blinked like I'd woken her from a daydream. What was she thinking about?

She packed up her things into her bag slowly, I could tell she was buying herself time but I felt relaxed now we were alone, in fact I felt excited which was completely ridiculous. I felt like a damn teenager.

"Did you need to talk Miss Watson?" I was amused and I needed to break the ice before the silence got the better of me. I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest.

"I erm…" She walked towards me, down the stairs, looking at her feet. She was unsteady and looked nervous as hell, was she going to tell me to back off? "I wanted to apologise, I had no idea you were a Professor." She stood at the bottom of the stairs, I was glad she wasn't too close. I don't know if I'd be able to control myself around her and lord knows I had to. The atmosphere was tense, neither of us really knowing what to say or do, all I could think about was ripping off her clothes.

"There's no need to apologise Miss Watson, I also had no idea you were a student but I was hoping to bump into you again. Funny how things work out isn't it?" I cocked my eyebrow at her, testing her, seeing how she would react to my comment. Something changed and she didn't look quite so nervous anymore.

"I think fate can be rather cruel Professor Hemsworth." The way she called me Professor stirred something deep inside me, a hunger I didn't know I had and when she moved closer to me I began to feel nervous.

"Oh really? Why is that Miss Watson?" She was so close now, I could smell her sweet scent of coconut shampoo. I wanted to touch her badly, I didn't though. I didn't dare because I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to stop myself and I must restrain, she's my student after all. It's wrong. It's forbidden.

I still couldn't stop myself from flirting, like an uncontrollable impulse and as soon as I opened my mouth to try and be professional I would just go right ahead and flirt. She was so outrageously attractive but the kind of attractive where she didn't know it and didn't flaunt it, which I found even more endearing.

"I was hoping to bump into you again too, only now the thought of what could've happened will have to remain a fantasy." My restraint was really being tested now, she was teasing me, egging me on and the fact she'd also been fantasising about me made it extra difficult to resist. I had to loosen my tie again, I needed my fingers to be busy so I didn't touch her. I had an internal conflict going on inside my mind and it was like torture, if this was day one of class how the hell was I meant to survive the whole semester?

"I better get to my next class, we can't have anyone thinking I'm your favourite now can we?" Fuck sake. I ground my teeth together, I was glad she was leaving, I couldn't take the tension any longer but at the same time I knew, with distance the desire would only intensify. She turned to leave and I couldn't stop myself watching her hips sway as she walked, her ass was so round and bouncy, it hypnotised me and that's when I knew I was in deep trouble.