#the blush i am torn on for reasons :(

[ahollowgrave]

don't worry @idalenn, she brought options!

[moonselune]

could you write wyll gale and astarion with a clingy very overly affectionate reader :0 thanks!!

a little bit of fluff to soothe the soul x

Gale:

Gale loved your affectionate nature, but it was also the reason his stack of unfinished books kept growing taller. He found it nearly impossible to concentrate on his studies and research with you constantly draped around him.

"My dear, how am I supposed to finish reading this tome if you're always like this?" he asked, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

"Who needs books when you have me?" you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek to his. "I am a font of all knowledge."

"Oh really, tell me then-mmpf" Gale was cut off by a kiss to his lips, you didn't have to answer his question if he couldn't ask it. Gale sighed, a soft smile playing on his lips. He could never stay mad at you. The warmth of your body against his and the way you always wanted to be close to him was endearing.

"I suppose the ancient spells and histories can wait a little longer," he conceded, closing the book and setting it aside.

You grinned, triumphant, and nestled closer to him. Gale would often find himself torn between his love for knowledge and his love for you. But in those moments, with you so close and content, the choice was easy. He'd happily wrap his arms around you, hold you close, and let the world of books and spells fade away, if only for a while.

Astarion:

Astarion adored how much you wanted to be close to him. Your need to be intertwined with him was a constant reminder of the deep bond you shared. However, it also meant that letting go, even for a moment, was always a struggle.

"Must you cling to me so, darling?" he asked one morning, though his tone was light and teasing as he tried to extricate himself from your embrace.

"Yes," you replied simply, your arms tightening around him.

Astarion chuckled, shaking his head. "And what if I have to go out?"

"Then I'll come with you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.

He sighed dramatically, though he was clearly enjoying the attention. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"But you love it," you countered.

"Indeed, I do," he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face and the two of you remained there until Lae'zel dragged the both of you out by your ankles.

Whenever he had to leave, you had a devious response. You would bat your eyelashes, comment that he looked a bit tired and offered him your blood, knowing he could never refuse. He would then return to your arms, and happily suckle on your veins. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, and of course, he couldn't just abandon you after the gracious gift you just gave him. It was perfect.

Until he realised what you were doing.

"I mean honestly, did you really think I was some pup you could train!?" Astarion flounced across the tent and you sat on your bedroll, smiling guiltily. When he caught you, his outrage continued. "Don't smile, darling, I'm very upset at you!"

There was absolutely no conviction in his tone, and you bit your lip before opening your arms to him. "Sorry, Want to kiss and make up?"

"....well, how could I say no?"

Wyll:

Wyll loved the way you were so affectionate with him. Your constant need to touch, hug, and be close to him was a balm to his often stressful life as a hero and protector. He cherished every moment of it, even though it often left him flustered in public.

"My beloved, not here," he would murmur, his cheeks tinged with a blush as you hugged him from behind, your arms draped over his shoulders while he was trying to talk with a merchant in the marketplace.

"But why not, Wyll?" you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck and watching with satisfaction as he stammered and the merchant chuckled knowingly.

He relished in your affection but couldn't help getting embarrassed when others were around. The look of adoration in his eyes, however, never wavered. When you were alone, he was more than happy to reciprocate your affection. He'd pull you into his lap, kiss your forehead, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

One evening, while the two of you were at a formal gathering, you couldn't resist the urge to slip your hand into his and lean against his shoulder. His friends and acquaintances looked on with amusement and envy.

"Y/N, dearest, you're making it hard for me to concentrate," he whispered, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Good, I like it when you're all flustered." you replied cheekily, nuzzling his neck. Despite the public embarrassment, Wyll wouldn't trade your affection for anything.

Little bit short, but hope you all enjoy it x - Seluney xox

[sweetkpopmusings]

hyunjin coworker headcanons <3

a/n: i am determined!!! to finish this series of hcs asap asap asap...so hopefully that happens lol. truly obsessed with the idea of coworker!hyunjin, so i hope you are too :-) pics not mine <3

content: fluff, nonidol!au | wc: 0.9k | warnings: none really! | pairing: coworker!hyunjin x gn!reader | requests: open

office heartthrob!!!

who is a painfully huge dork <3

you learn this immediately. like so quickly that you get whiplash lol

on your first day you witness someone looking absolutely magnificent as they strut through the office

but, right before you can be properly intimidated, he trips on the carpet and acts as though he is having a heart attack even though he catches himself before he falls

who said being dramatic is unprofessional???

not hyunjin that's for sure 

you’re torn between laughing hysterically and asking whether he’s okay, and because of the first-day jitters, your brain manages to construct “you’re funny and okay?”

hyunjin just stares at you, and you’re ready to pack up your things, change your name, and move to a brand new city because why was THAT what i said?! 

then hyunjin cackles, managing to confirm that he’s okay once he wipes the tears from his eyes 

needless to say, 9:30-9:35 a.m. on your first day was quite eventful

from that very first interaction, hyunjin thinks you’re the funniest person on the planet 

the number of times he has fallen out of his chair after you made a joke has convinced the whole office of your comedic genius too :,-)

if hyunjin hears one of y’all’s coworkers repeating your joke, he’ll immediately step in and correct their delivery if it falls flat compared to yours which, in his opinion, it always does

you try to convince him to stop because people could get annoyed, but hyunjin stands firm in the fact that being the most annoying person in the office is worth it because he’s defending your honor :-(

like seriously he’s so dramatic for no reason but it’s his charm <333

it’s lowkey an office tradition for people to buy custom paintings from hyunjin around the holidays

he doesn’t mind the extra cash and he loves getting more practice, especially since people will request things outside his comfort zone

seeing as you’re special and “cooler than everyone else here, except for me, of course,” hyunjin gives you one as a surprise because he’s so thankful to have you at work and in his life <3333

hyunjin practically melts into the floor when he sees how excited you get after unwrapping it :’-)

you obviously display it proudly at your desk for everyone to see and be jealous of

and hyunjin blushes a bit and smiles really big (even if he tries to hide it) every single time he sees the artwork on your desk :,,,-) he’s simultaneously so proud and so honored

trust and believe that any gift you give him will be enshrined on his desk FOREVER

even if it’s a napkin with a drawing from a time you two went to a nearby coffee shop on your break, hyunjin cherishes it more than anything 

he gets it framed so it is protected from “the elements” whatever that means in an office lmao

sometimes he tries to correct you if you’re working on a project together and gets SOOOOO smug and then after fifteen minutes of gloating you look at him and quietly say “hyunjin…”

and he’s standing there like 🤨

when you tell him what the actual answer to the question is,  the man is CRUSHED to find out that he was wrong

almost every time he says, “there goes my dream of being the smartest person in the office”

as soon as you remind him he’s the most stylish and gorgeous person in the office, his pout disappears and he looks at you like 😁and boom! embarrassment at being a little dumb is gone forever

speaking of stylish

hyunjin loooooooooooves shopping with you for work clothes

weather’s changing?? hyunjin has sent you a calendar invite for a post-work shopping trip! work event coming up??? hyunjin has booked a conference room during the workday for you two to plan out your outfits!

he’s down to shop at any store you want, whether it’s high-end or thrifting

even if you can’t find clothes you like, there’s nothing more fun than putting together outfits for each other and cracking up during your fashion shows

any time hyunjin wears an outfit you helped him to create, he mentions it every 5-10 seconds

like so much so that people are coming up to compliment you for your fashion taste 

and you’re just sitting at your desk like ???? thank you ???

it all makes sense when you see hyunjin wearing the sweater vest with teddy bears you begged him to try on

if you’re wearing something he picked out for you, he will walk around to literally everybody and ask, “wow! doesn’t y/n look amazing today?”

he’ll also say to you “whoa! whoever told you to get that has impeccable taste”

you always tease him by saying you can’t remember who you bought it with LOL

he feels so proud to know you that he brags about you all. the. time. 

not just about your fashion–hyunjin thinks absolutely everything about you should be celebrated

there is a y/n fan club at your work and hyunjin is the founder, president, and outreach specialist <333

while he mostly expresses it by teasing you, he thinks you are incredibly smart, talented, kind, funny, beautiful, and perfect in every way

on the morning of your 1-year work anniversary, you find your favorite drink on your desk with a card next to it

in the card is a handwritten letter from hyunjin, outlining all the moments he has loved spending with you over the past year, as well as messages of encouragement and wishes for many more special, shared moments to come 

while you two met because he almost fell flat on his face, hyunjin can’t think of a better thing that has ever happened to him at work because, if he wasn’t so clumsy, he may never have bonded with his favorite person in the world (you <3333)

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｗａｎｎａ ｂｅ ｙｏｕｒｓ♡

♡ Pairing: bouncer!bang chan x stripper!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: You've had your eye on a bouncer who works at your club for the longest time. Tonight may just be the night that you get your chance with him

♡ Genre: smut/angst-ish

♡ Word Count: 1.5kish

♡ Warnings: light violence during fight scene, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, dick riding (in the fun sense)

If years of being a dancer have taught you anything it’s how to pretend to give a shit when you’d much rather be at home vegetating. It’s not that you hate your job. You simply aren’t always in the mood to socialize. But the club’s packed tonight and bills need to be paid.

At least the customers are generous, the music’s tolerable, and your best friend’s scheduled to work with you. Spinning around on the pole, you spot her over by the bar lighting a sparkler inside a bottle of champagne. She waves to you, blowing you a kiss. You blow one right back at her.

A sweet moment's swiftly interrupted by the thud of a body crashing onto your platform. With the music blaring overhead, you hadn’t noticed the fight breaking out behind you between bouncers and a few frat boys who’ve clearly had one too many vodka shots. The frat boy laid out at your feet has blood gushing from his nose, ruining his shirt and risking the safety of your brand new stilettos.

He sees the bouncer responsible for his broken nose headed in his direction and so do you. Both of your heart rates increase for opposing reasons. His because, despite his blurred vision, he’s ready to go another round. Yours because the bouncer in question is Bang Chan or Channie as he lets you call him.

You’ve had an embarrassingly heavy crush on the platinum blonde haired Aussie since your first night working here. Somehow you’ve managed to remain oblivious to the fact that the feeling’s mutual. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of the frat boy sneaking a knife from his pocket.

You stomp down on his wrist, applying your full weight, and you feel something crunch beneath your heel. He cries out in pain, the knife falling to the floor. Now his nose isn’t the only thing that’s broken.  Chan grabs him by the shirt, tossing him into the arms of two other bouncers waiting nearby.

You’ve never seen him this angry before but his rage is fleeting when he rises from retrieving the knife and lays eyes on you. He smiles up at you, basking in your beauty like you’re one of those goddess statues in a museum. Masterfully carved in marble and perfect in every sense of the word.

“My hero” he gasps, hand over his heart. You roll your eyes, “Dramatic much?” Chan takes your manicured hand, kissing it so gently that it sends a chill through your body. “Thank you. I mean it. I owe you one.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand, your gazes lingering on each other as the rest of the world fades away.

It returns with a roar as the fight erupts again. “I, uh…” he stutters, torn between the longing to stay with you and his obligation to fulfill his duties. “Go. Do your job. No slacking” you tease, shooing him away. Chan blushes, grateful that the darkness of the club conceals it, and disappears into the crowd.

Being the professional that you are, you immediately go back to dancing. Your mind’s even farther gone than before, floating somewhere in the clouds treasuring the tingle left behind by his kiss like it’s gold. 

“Absolutely not” you sing, slamming the door to your locker. In the dressing room girls crowd around a half dozen vanities, dashing between clothing racks, hurrying to put the finishing touches on their looks before they’re called to the floor. You, on the other hand, have already changed into a hoodie and a cozy pair of sweats.

The night’s over for you. At least it was before your best friend cornered you, begging to borrow your car. “Oh, come on. Please, please, please” she pouts, “It’s only until tomorrow and I’ll give it right back.” “And how exactly am I supposed to get home?” The grin that spreads across her glitter speckled face is adorable and concerning all at once.

Throwing her coat on, she takes your hand and drags you through one of the side doors where Chan leans against his car waiting for you. With the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled up and a few buttons undone, you get a peek at the tattoos covering his muscular form. Whatever workout this man does has done sinfully good things to his body. 

Your best friend plucks the car keys from your hand, nudging you forward, “You look out for my girl, Bang Chan!” “I’ll take good care of her” he promises, opening the door for you. There’s something sensual about the way he says that. “I’ll take good care of her.” You throw the bag on your shoulder into the backseat, hesitating to get in yourself.

“You really don’t have to do this.” “I owe you, remember?” Unable to argue with him, you hop in and put your seatbelt on.  As sexy as he looks walking around to the driver’s side, you wouldn’t object to being taken care of by him.

You pinch yourself on the arm, shaking off the thought of anything happening between the two of you. He probably doesn’t want it to. Even if he did, you work together. Something like that would never happen. It can’t...

An hour’s passed and you’re thrown across your bed, knees pressed to your chest, breathing like a pregnant woman in a Lamaze class. You have no clue where your clothes went but honestly, who the hell cares? Chan’s face is buried between your legs, slurping at your pussy like it’s the only thing he’s eaten in 48 hours.

Though that may not technically be true, you definitely taste better than any meal he’s had in recent memory. Your bed’s soaked from how wet you are, a year’s worth of anticipation dripping from his chin. He sucks your clit between his lips, circling it with his tongue and pulling away.

He repeats this over and over again, edging you to the point that you’re a trembling, overstimulated wreck. “Channie…” you whine, your eyes falling close as your nails dig into the sheets below. Chan grabs onto your lush hips, lifting you away from him, “Keep them open.

I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you cum.” You pry them open and catch him staring up at you with nearly the same look he had at the club. Only now there’s an insatiable hunger behind those eyes. Grinding you down against his face, his tongue plunges into the depths of your warmth.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” is all you can say when he has you coming apart at the seams. “Mmm” he hums, sensing how close you are by the way your walls clench around his tongue. He flexes it along your g-spot and you’re cumming harder than you ever have. Your body’s twisting, pitiful moans fill the air, fingers grasping at his hair.

This must be what it feels like to have a demon exorcized or to be possessed by one. Either way, there’s nothing in this world like it. Even as your body goes limp, your mind going cloudy, Chan’s still kitten licking your slit to gather every drop of your juices. When he finally stops, he straightens your legs out, massaging them as he trails wet kisses up your stomach.

He takes the hand previously responsible for breaking someone’s nose and delicately toys with your nipples. They perk up for him, making each graze of his fingertip twice as intense. He drags his tongue over your bud. Up your chest. Along your chin. You open your mouth to catch your breath and he’s pulling you into a decadent kiss, laced with the sweetness of your arousal. 

“I knew you’d taste amazing but that was…” he groans, using two fingers to stroke between your folds, “I could stay between those thighs all night.” “You’ll have to come up for air at some point” you tease. Chan wraps his arms around your waist, hooking an arm behind your knee, “Breathing is overrated.”

In one fluid motion, he’s rolled you over on top of him, his thick cock resting against your twitching clit. Your legs are as structurally solid as jello but you manage to prop yourself up on them, fingers running along his length. “Is this all cause of lil old me?” you ask, dipping your thumb in the precum leaking from his tip and licking it off. 

Chan cups your cheek into his palm and you nuzzle it, kissing his palm. “Can I keep you?” You giggle at the question, raising your hips and sinking down onto him. “You can'' you moan, rotating your hips in graceful figure eights that have him ready to implode. A mixture of pleasure and panic floods his system.

It’d be embarrassing to cum this quickly but you’re making it impossible. It takes everything he has to hold back watching you have this much fun using his dick to make yourself feel good. 

Chan gets it, how men can throw everything in their pockets at you when you’re on stage. He’d empty every bank account in his name to have you sit on his face. Just sit there. Not even move.

[chaethewriter]

Voices Of The Nights

(OPLA!) RORONOA ZORO X READER

A/N: I wrote this for a writing assignment— but I imagined it was Zoro while writing this. Might not be accurate to lore but enjoy!!

Word count: 1,8K

she/her pronouns, fluff, enemies to lovers?

This was the worst idea ever. Taking on a job with this asshole was one thing, but also sharing a room with him after spending an entire day of misfortune was another. Everything about him annoyed her. An entire day of his mocking and insults was enough– getting on her nerves until a vein on her forehead was close to bursting. She was looking forward to an entire night on her own, in her own space, without seeing that menace of a swordsman for even five hours.

Was that too much to ask for?

Just peace and quiet?

Whatever.

12:00 am. Her gaze moved to the way his body stumbled through the hallway. It made her blood boil. He had blocked an attack to save her, resulting in a large cut from his left shoulder to his abdomen. His clothes were all torn apart from the sharp of the weapon cutting through his skin. It smelled like iron. The hallways were starting to reek of it. Not surprising with the way the blood gushed out of his wounds like a waterfall. He was far worse off than her, after all.

But why did he do it?

Why did he save her?

Did he think of her as weak?

The way his hand shook as he pushed the key into its lock annoyed her. Everything about him annoyed her. She locked the door after she entered after him, her eyes following his movements, his blood basically leaking everywhere and covering the hotel's furniture.

"Stay on the floor. You're gushing blood everywhere." She threw her satchel from her shoulder as she pulled at his arm to stop him from falling into the comfort of the bed. The pull was so hard, resulting in him falling on his back on the cold hard floor. He hissed out a cuss her way, but she ignored it as she basically gripped onto his top and ripped it in half. Revealing his torso, she had to fight the blush that was tempted to show itself.

"Like what you see? Take a picture it lasts longer... argh fuck.." his face was husky as he spoke, soon growing horse and not soon after coughing fit leaving his throat.

"That's what you get for being annoying, now hold still," her hand made way to his chest, touching around the area as her other hand dug into her satchel. Her fingers danced around his pecs. Only to see where it hurt, of course. No other reason. Her fingers lingered a little too long against his skin, and he seemed to notice the gesture. His lips parted as to say something, but she shut him up by pushing a cloth into his mouth.

"This is going to hurt, big boy.." That wasn't a lie. It's going to hurt like shit. And that much was clear from the way he groaned and moved when the alcohol hit his wounds. He had a hard time staying still, moving on top of his lap to keep him down, "Aren't you used to alcohol in your system? Stay still, you're annoying. I'm trying to be gentle." And that also wasn't a lie, as she carefully tended to his wounds– her touches soft on his skin.

2:30am. He was passed out on the bed, the blood that pooled under him seeping into the wooden floor and drying into his skin. Bandages securely wrapped around his torso with the blanket keeping his warm. It's drying up. They will notice. The water is no use.

How to clean this mess?

At least he will be fine.. her eyes looked from the now red cloth she tried to rub the blood with to the unconcious man on the bed. She huffed out in annoyance.

Why did he need to be such a drag?

Always causing problems for her. Yet she would always be ready to care for him.

Why did she even bother?

She didn't understand how she felt. She walked from the bathroom to the bedroom a few more times with old cloths in hand, wetting them and putting them down on the floor– making her way to his bedside. She took a seat on the bed, more like leaning since she barely had any space to properly sit down.

"Why did you block that attack, stupid? Now I need to take care of you. It's all just a pain in the ass!" Her lip shivered as her hand made its way to his torso, pressing around on the bandages to feel if they're still secure, "wake up, you're not weak, are you? You're delaying our mission..!"

That's just it, right? It's all about the mission. It always was. But her eyes said something else, as they softened everytime she glanced his way. Even if she didn't notice it herself.

4:00 am. She was sat on the floor, her back leaned against the side of the bed– that if she looked to the right, he would be in her sight. Not that she would want to. Only glancing his way to see if he was still breathing. At least four times every ten minutes. Just the right amount of times to check.

That wasn't weird at all.

She just had to make sure he wouldn't leave her here all alone on this mission. Occasionally checking on his wounds to see how the wounds were healing, still telling herself she doesn't care and that she will never care. And so she sat, sitting and waiting wide awake– secretly praying to the gods that he would wake up.

In the meantime she couldn't fall asleep.

She wouldn't.

Not with him unable to defend himself. She didn't want them to judge her for being weak, which is stupid since it's his own fault for bleeding out enough liquid to drown the lands. He would flinch from time to time, the bed creaking underneath him as she felt it dip against her back. She would turn around in an instance, her eyes widening as she slightly shook his arm– but to no avail.

8:00 am. Her eyes were stone cold, staring at the wall in front of her. The same wall she had been staring at for the past hours. If you would cover her eyes and ask her what her surroundings looked like, she could tell you in an instance. Sitting cross-legged with his precious sword in her hands, keeping it safe until he woke up. Her grip was tight, fists balled up into the material, ready to pull the blade out of its sheath. Her head would slowly roll back, finding comfort for her neck as her eyes would flutter shut– this wouldn't last long as she would jolt awake.

She had no idea how much time went by, not until the sun shone bright in her eyes and a voice whispered in her ear, hot breath tickling her skin, "been waiting for me, pretty girl?"

The hairs stood straight as her eyes widened, turning around and basically knocking the handle of his own sword into his face.

He groaned loudly, immediately falling back onto the bed with a loud cough, "what the hell was that for!?" She watched him with a shocked face, dropping the sword (not without him scolding her how she had to be careful with that) to grab at his shoulders, "you can't just- just up and go ahead and whisper like that in my ear?!?!?" She was basically burning up, face growing red.

The heat was radiating off her. Incredibly flustered and speechless, she went and smacked him on his torso, right on his healing injury. "Why did you block that attack for me, you asshole?!" She basically screamed into his face, eyes teary (from exhaustion, of course) as she remained eye contact with him.

He just looked up at her while covering his chest with his hand, an attempt to relieve the stinging caused by her slap. But he didn't answer. He kept his mouth shut and stared into her eyes. This made her blood boil even more, but she didn't know the exact reason. "Answer me!! Don't just shut up like a coward! You blocked me from an axe attack, so act like the man you think you are!"

Was she even making sense?

Calling him names to convince herself that she could care less about him.

Calling him names to make it sound like she doesn't care about him.

Calling him names all along to try and create enough distance to not come to terms with her feelings.

Her true feelings.

"You're so fucking stupid! Mindlessly jumping in front of weapons like you're made of steel?!? Is that head of yours empty?!" She bumped her fist into his head, punching his temple to see if it sounded as hollow as she thought.

"Cut that out." He grabbed her wrist to stop him from knocking at his face, also using it as leverage to pull her on top of him. She quickly put her hands on the bed, on either side of his face, careful not to wound him any further than he already is.

"You're such a nuisance, running that pretty little mouth." If it was possible, her cheeks grew even redder at that statement, "w-well! You're at fault here! Always commenting on anything I do! Then throwing yourself in front of me?! Do you think I'm weak?! Is that it! That's what you think, right?!" She leaned in closer to him, their noses touching as her voice grew louder by the second.

The thought of him thinking she's weak upset her.

Didn't she show how capable she was?

What more could she do?

"That's not it, it's-" but she cut him off, like she did too often. "Then tell me! Why do you mock me? Make fun of me everyday? Think I can't protect myself? Why are you pulling at my heartstrings! It hurts, you know?!"

He was right.

She ran her mouth too often. And he had to shut her up by putting his hand on the back of her head– at least he tried to with the pain shooting through his entire body and pushing his mouth into hers. Sharing a kiss as the sun illuminated their faces.

Let me know what you thought with a comment! <3 thank you sm for reading!

[swallowedbyfandom]

Portia is ashamed to admit she finds herself rattled by her discussion with Penelope. She had not considered how much debt remains on the estate. While the influx of inheritance money was used to settle the immediate debts. There are still many debts that are frozen until such time as a new Baron is named. What money they have remaining from the inheritance will likely not be enough to actually get all their affairs in order. Not to mention all the renovations and upkeep their lands and tenants will require.

Portia has never had to concern herself with business affairs. That is what husbands are for. It is clear she was too hasty in marrying her daughters off. For heaven's sake, she had to explain to Mr. Finch how one goes about consummating a marriage. Penelope is her only remaining child that can be married off advantageously.It is glaringly clear that Penelope has no intentions of looking out for anyone's interest but her own. How the hell did Penelope end up her most promising child?

She may have to find an another husband, for her future security. Someone with children in need of a mother. She shudders at the thought. She needs a man that can help her train her son in laws. She will wait to see if she gets a grandson first. Perhaps the situation with the estate is not so dire.

She spends her time during calling hours torn between watching Penelope charm and navigate the many gentlemen calling and worry over what the future may bring. Decades of tolerating Archibald and she is back at square one. Good lord, will her poor girls end up her here in a few years? She tries to distract herself watching the gentlemen whom seem most interested in her youngest daughter.

The Marquis from Vienna seems throughly taken with Penelope. He arrived early with a beautiful floral arrangement and gifts her what appeared to be a solid silver dessert fork tied with a pretty bow. Her daughter gives him a mischievous smirk and vows to carry it always. She watches Penelope slip it into her reticule. They chuckle like children over it. Portia wonders if this is a bizarre Austrian custom. She has heard of welsh love spoon. However she has never before heard any tales tied to forks. She will have to look into it to ensure it is not improper.

Lord Samadani watches her daughter with keen interest in his eyes and laughter twitching at his lips. She would prefer her daughter not move so far away for marriage. Now that she can see what an untapped resource Penelope is, she does not want to let her go. However with his title, and wealth she would not be able to reasonably decline. He also holds the Queen's favor. She cannot question his character without offending the Queen's taste.

Watching Lord Fife attempting to charm Penelope is deeply disturbing. Her daughter sends subtle glares at him, while he all but pants at her feet. She swears she witnessed him shiver at the scathing tone Penny directed at him when she shot down his invitation to promenade that afternoon.

Her daughter had quickly spat out her denial.

"With the way you are currently panting Lord Fife, I cannot imagine taking you for a walk without a collar and a leash. I am unsure where we would find such accessories to fit you. So I will have to decline."

That scoundrel had released a whimper so obscene, it made her blush. Her youngest daughter seemed confused over the sound. She quickly signaled over a maid and had Penelope escorted to her room.

Unfortunately for Lord Fife, news of his behavior becomes the hottest gossip that evening at every Gentlemen's club. It is also responsible for the fist fight between him and Colin Bridgerton that happens outside the Featherington home. To the delight of all the gentlemen currently awaiting their turn to speak with Miss Penelope, Portia Featherington goes on a flustered, scandalized rant.

"Never in all my years have I felt so violated. How dare you come into my home and attempt to ...to...to bring yourself to climax using my daughter's voice. I run a proper household. I have raised proper ladies. Why the whole of society seems to hold Marina Thompson's sins against me and my girls, I shall never know. I did not ask for that girl and her illegitimate spawn to come into my home and hold our reputations hostage. My husband allowed that! I DID NOT RAISE THAT CHIT! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR HER DISGUSTING LACK OF JUDGEMENT! STILL IT IS MY DAUGHTERS WHOM HAD THEIR MARRIAGE PROSPECTS SUFFER. STILL IT IS THE VIRTUE OF MY GIRLS THAT IS QUESTIONED! STILL IT IS I WHOM IS KNOW AS A SCHEMER."

Portia Featherington to the great horror of the gentlemen watching seems to collapse in on herself.

"JUST BECAUSE WE ARE WITHOUT A LORD DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN ATTEMPT TO DISHONOR MY DAUGHTER. LORD FIFE, YOU ARE BANNED FROM MY HOME. I HEREBY, REJECT YOUR SUIT FOR MY DAUGHTER!"

They all watch Portia attempt to regain her composure.

"Mr Bridgerton, I scolded my daughter when she turned down your marriage proposal. I thought in light of all the scandal we have weathered due to the dishonorable men in our lives, she was being overreaching." She let out a scoff. "I understand now why your association with Lords Fife and Stanton made her question your integrity and honor as a gentleman. Frankly after what I just witnessed I too, have my doubts. Consider this your notice, Mr. Bridgerton. If I see a single hint that you harbor any perversions similar to your friend, I will have you thrown from my home instantly. If you attempt to take any liberties with my daughter I will see you ruined. My daughter may not have a Lord's protection but he has a mother's."

Still visibly trembling Portia turns to the rest of her captive audience. She gives them a shakily tight smile.

"I apologize for the inconvenience gentlemen. I am suddenly feeling quite overwrought. I am afraid I must cancel today's calling hours. I shall allow for callers tomorrow. I also apologize for shouting. I admit that witnessing such a vulgar act committed in front of my unsuspecting daughter was too great a shock for me. I must go tend to my daughter now. I need to find a way to explain what has taken place without compromising Penelope's innocence. My staff will see you out. Good day, Sirs."

She sweeps out of the room, leaving silence in her wake. Men are the lowest of all the life forms, she cannot help thinking. She hopes her performance is enough to head off talks about Penelope's virtue being compromised, by the vile display Fife made. She doesn't have her youngest's talent for feigned vulnerability.

Colin Bridgerton better make use of this opportunity she has just handed him. If he doesn't act to uphold Penelope's honor, she will deny him as a suitor on general principle. Penelope is right. Portia is tired of weak men. An entire room full of gentlemen and not one stepped in to stop Fife's disgusting behavior. Not one stepped in when Penelope's discomfort was obvious. She is done, with the spineless stupidity of man. Her new sons are going to get some damn training.

She trusts that Penelope will marry someone sensible with more than a drop of common sense. That girl is too cunning and manipulative, not to land herself a proper man. Hell, maybe she is better off as a spinster, if this is the quality of men available. Time will tell.

Now she needs to get to a window to see if Colin Bridgerton will do god's work and punch Lord Fife in his damn mouth.

[imfinereallyy]

i'll be sure to come back July 2nd and wish you a happy birthday! but as for now, can i please request from your dialogue prompt list, n. 35 “Please leave a message, after the beep.” with Steddie? ♡

this is such a fun idea and i look forward to reading the stuff you'll create! ♡♡

@spicysix I hope this one is up to your expectations, it was a lot of fun to write! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ I had an angsty idea, if anyone is interested in it I might still write it, but today i needed some good old domestic fluff.

“Eddie, are you being serious right now.? Steve huffed, placing his hands on his hips. Steve loved the man beyond anything, but he could be an immature brat sometimes.

Eddie had his hands over his ears, yelling, “La la la, not listening.” In the middle of their apartment. He was refusing to hear Steve out.

“For the love of god, Eddie! Would you just—” Steve moved to grab his boyfriend's arms to yank them away from his ears. Eddie squealed and ran around the couch.

“Eddie isn’t here right now. Please leave a message after the beep. Beeeeep.” Eddie’s hands gripped the arm of the couch, trying to dodge Steve.

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous!” Steve crossed his arms in a huff. He thought the party being here would soften the blow, and just maybe Eddie would hear him out. But no, apparently, them being here made Eddie extra stubborn.

Steve really loved the damn fool.

“Is there a reason Eddie is being extra weird on movie night?” Dustin and Will walked out of their kitchen. It was Will, surprisingly, who asked. He had come a long way from the shy kid Steve once knew. He was proud of him.

Especially when he called Eddie out on his bullshit like now.

“I will have you know, little Byers, will of the wise, that I am not being extra weird! This is a perfectly reasonable reaction to an absolute travesty of a suggestion! Also, Steve, you love that I am ridiculous! Don't act like you don't.” Eddie collapsed on the couch dramatically, and heaved out a sound that could only be described as a mix between a sigh and a strangled cry.

Eddie should have gone into acting instead of music. Indeed the man would have made a killing.

“I haven’t seen Eddie this distressed since we told him the bat tattoo didn’t make it after the literal bats tore him apart. Maybe it’s serious.” Dustin bit his lip. It was clear to Steve he was torn between choosing sides between him and Eddie.

It was a tale as old as time really, at this point.

Max strolled into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands. “What’s princess crying about now?” She shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

Eddie gasped, “Princess?! I expect the blatant homophobia from Mike—“

A distinct “hey what the fuck!” comes from the bathroom but they all ignore it.

“—But from you Red? I’m devastated.” Eddie gripped his shirt where his heart is.

“I’m bisexual, you dumbass; how can I be homophobic? Besides, that wasn’t a dig at your sexuality but rather the fact you are being a spoiled brat right now.” Max shoved another handful in her mouth as she casually tore Eddie apart.

Steve knew he should defend his boyfriend, but he was a little proud of his kids right now.

“You don’t even know why I am upset! All of you are taking Steve’s side!” Eddie grumbled.

“Dude, I didn’t take anyone’s side. And you haven’t even told us what’s got you so upset.”

Eddie rushed over to grab Dustin by the shoulders. “Oh, Dusty buns, you’re not even prepared. Our dear boy Stevie, just told me…that he’s thinking about shaving his chest.”

The room was silent before Dustin finally said, “Oh, never mind, I am on Steve’s side. That jungle needs to go.”

Eddie fell dramatically into the floor in outcry. Jesus Christ, Steve thought. Why am I into this?

Max put the bowl down, suddenly getting serious. “No, I agree with Eddie; you can’t do that.” She looked Steve up and down; a blush rose as she remained stoic. “Yea, Steve, it needs to stay.”

“Ew, gross! Max! I’m telling Lucas and El you said that!” Dustin scrunched up his nose while Will giggled.

“And? They’ll agree with me!” Max shouted back.

Steve was starting to feel uncomfortable, but Eddie’s smile was wide. It made Steve smile a tiny bit.

But only a teeny tiny bit.

“I agree it has to stay,” Will spoke up with a blush blooming across his face, breaking up the fight.

“No, no! Not you too Will!”

“What? Maybe I just wish I could grow chest hair too.”

“Oh we both know that’s not what this is about!” Dustin tugged on his hair.

Max stuck her tongue out, “Sucks to suck loser.”

The next few minutes, we’re chaos as they all start to place down arguments on what to do about his chest hair. Okay, now Steve was definitely uncomfortable.

“Alright, alright. Enough.” Steve spoke calmly, “I appreciate your concern for my body hair, but please stop talking about it. All of you are my weird surrogate children—“

Dustin leaned over to Max and whispered, “Look mom finally admitted it.” She tried to smother her giggles as Steve leveled them with a look.

“—so it’s a little weird you guys are arguing about it.”

“Stevie, honey. Ignore the children. Actually, just ignore Dustin. And listen to the rest of us. Don’t shave it.” Eddie came up to Steve and rested his hand gently on his chest. His thumb softly stroked the fabric of his shirt. Steve hummed quietly at the gesture; for a moment, he’s forgotten that they weren’t alone.

Steve gently cupped Eddie’s cheeks, before speaking quietly. “It’s just…baby. Baby, i get so sweaty with it.”

Eddie’s eyes filled with mischief. “I know it’s why I like it.”

Steve barked out a laugh as he heard groans throughout the room. Suddenly a burst of noise from the other side of the apartment startled all of them.

“Why are you saying im homophobic? Im not homophobic!” Mike crossed his arms in a huff.

“Until you unlock that closet door, you’re homophobic, Mike.” Max glared.

“What the hell does that even mean!?” Mike stomped.

Steve interrupted before it got out of hand, “Calm down, Wheeler. They are just fucking with you. We know you’re not a homophobe. They are just arguing whether or not I should shave my chest hair.”

Mike scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Ew, why are you guys even arguing about it? It’s Steve. It’s gross either way.”

Steve glared, “Never mind, you’re homophobic for that one. The chest hair stays.”

Eddie screamed, “Victory!”, and started peppering Steve’s face in kisses.

And when the children, who were not really children anymore, started to scream at each other in the background, Steve didn’t even care. Because right here, with Eddie, who made grabby hands at his chest, and his gremlins filling up the place with noise, is home.

***

fluff fluff fluff. also I agree the chest hair should stay.

find the request game here.

[gsstories]

When Autumn Starts

A nearby forest has been mysteriously burnt down two weeks ago. It had happened the day of an eclipse and it just happened randomly! People are worried and keep talking about what could have happened. They had no clue the reason was a small, fiery fairy who held a grudge against humanity…

Right now, he was wandering around the place, seeing how things have changed while he was imprisoned. He was astonished by the cars, the cellphones, everything! He had to see more!

The fairy flew near the window of an apartment at the top of a bakery and looked inside. It was a room that was a pastel yellow color with a nice bed, a study desk with some books, sewing materials, a sewing machine, next to the desk a mannequin an unfinished red suit, and there being a separate desk with three computer monitors, a microphone and a HUMAN was sitting on the chair, wearing cat eared headphones and wearing a hoodie that said ‘I cast gun, prepare to meet god’ and was playing a fighting game on his setup.

The guy couldn’t have been older than 15, had dark skin, long, brown hair, golden eyes, slightly big lips, his hair in a low ponytail and some bangs of hair covering his right eye.

“Uhh, guys? I died again.” The guy said.

From Eclipse’s perspective, he was rather confused. The human died? But he was still moving no? What did he mean by again? Can humans just died and keep moving nowadays? That didn’t make sense…

Now, from the human teen’s perspective, whose name is Daniel, it was like this…

“Are you serious?? We just started this round!” Another male sounding voice yelled, his name being ‘Ax’.

“Are you really that surprised? It’s Aspen we’re talking about.” Another male voice said, named ‘Brutus’.

“You need help next round Aspen?” A third voice with a slight Russian accent asked Daniel, or ‘Aspen’ on stream, this guy named ‘KoKo’.

“I would say no but that’s a big fat lie.” Aspen mumbled.

“Where’d CJ go?” A fourth voice with an even stronger Russian accent asked, the guy named ‘Apollo’.

“Knowing him, massacred a bunch of people already.” Brutus said as they heard evil giggling.

“That’s exactly right!” A fifth voice, one a tad bit higher than the other boys’ said, giggling mischievously, this one called CJ.

“LeLe must love you right now.” Aspen chuckled at this.

“She loves CJ no matter what he does.” KoKo responded. “Fucking simp.”

A comment rolled in the chat of the stream. It read:

LeLeNotPons: ‘Says the one who keeps calling his ‘best friend’ his wife when on stream.’

“Hey, I am not the one who rambles about the merman every chance I get, so shut it.” KoKo argued with the comment.

“Hey Aspen, how do you feel about your husband and sister-in-law fighting?” Brutus questioned the eladrin VTuber.

“Kinda hot on KoKo’s part.” Aspen answered, making Ax start chuckling and soon enough the whole group started laughing. “Am I wrong?!”

Daniel then started smelling something. Something was… burning? But he didn’t have anything cooking and his parents were down in his bakery. Couldn’t be his lil brother, he cannot reach a stove and his sister was with Helena (aka LeLe, KoKo’s sister). The young man turned around in his chair only to find the sight of a kind of tall yet still smaller than him, like barely reaching his leg I think, of a humanoid creature with its head having what looked like red flower petals but still not? The creature’s face and body was half really dark brown, and orange, its cheeks seemingly having what would be considered blush that could only be found on dolls, sharp teeth, mismatched eyes with the irises being orange while the right sclera was a yellow color, almost white while the left one was pitch black. It wore a ragged and torn cloak over its shoulders and dusty red and orange striped pants with no shoes.

Besides the creature, a paper was burning on Daniel’s desk. Daniel and the creature stared at each other for a while the paper just burned.

“Hey guys, I gotta mute myself for a moment, something caught on fire.” Aspen said.

“Only you bud.” Apollo said as the others laugh.

Daniel muted himself, walked out of his room, brought a fire extinguisher and put the fire out before it could spread. He kinda covered the creature with the foam though.

“Alright, now that that’s been dealt with…what the absolute FUCK are you?!” Daniel exclaimed, now freaking out.

“What is this? It’s foamy.” Eclipse wondered, completely ignoring Daniel’s question as he tasted the foam. “Tastes weird.”

“You’re tiny! And cute! But also kind of like you would commit arson! Did you make the paper burn?” Daniel asked as he looked at Eclipse’s form.

“Yes, that was me.” Eclipse said as he grinned.

“Arsonist then, called it.” Daniel mumbled as he held onto his ponytail. “Just- What ARE you??”

“I am a fairy. I thought you humans would be able to recognize us better. Bummer you don’t.” Eclipse said.

“Fairies are fucking real?” Daniel mumbled.

Now Eclipse was looking at Daniel who was having an existential crisis over what is real and what is not. It was rather amusing for Eclipse to see a human in distress like this.

“Okay, uhhh, who are you?” Daniel asked.

“Why should I tell you my name?” Eclipse asked the human, tilting his head a bit.

“Because if I don’t have a name, Imma just call you Mosquito because you came in, decided to freak me out on stream, and the pointy nose also reminds me of a mosquito.” Daniel said.

“Do NOT call me mosquito!” Eclipse growled at the human boy.

“Then give me a name to call you! It’s not that hard!” Daniel said. “It’s either that, Mosquito or Mosco cause you are rather big for a mosquito.”

Eclipse was getting rather annoyed at this human. He’s in the presence of a fairy, a real life fairy, and he dares insult him like this? Humans haven’t changed, he guessed.

“Fine. It’s Eclipse.” Eclipse huffed.

“Thank you for giving me a name. I’m Daniel, nice to meet ya. Why are you in my house?” Daniel asked.

“I’ve been… wandering around the place recently. Just trying to see how things have changed in the human world is all. I haven’t been here in quite a while.” Eclipse said as he took out his wings and flew around the room, staring at everything.

“Oh! Okay, I see. So, you were somewhere else then?” Daniel asked.

“Something like that, yeah.” Eclipse said as he looked at a bundle of plushies of some characters before flying over to the unfinished suit.

A bit ominous to Daniel’s liking but it was fine.

“What’s this?” Eclipse asked as he stared at the suit.

“Oh, that’s a suit someone commissioned me to make for them. It’s still a work in progress.” Daniel said.

Eclipse decides to be a lil evil shit and summons a flame in his hand. However, he was drenched in the foam from before, causing his fire to die.

“Hey!!” Eclipse yelled in annoyance.

“Do NOT try and ruin it, I spent WEEKS working on that!” Daniel said as he glared at the fairy.

“Oh please, like it’ll matter in the end.” Eclipse hissed at the human.

“It still matters to me. Just because you are a magical creature does not mean you are entitled to destroy the hard work of others. Calm your damn shit or I will make you!” Daniel said.

“Oh yeah? And how will you do that?” Eclipse asked with a challenging grin.

“You may not be a mosquito or a fly but I can take you out like such still. I am NOT afraid to swat you!” Daniel said as he crossed his arms.

Both human and fairy stared each other down for a long while, just glaring at each other. Eventually, Eclipse huffed and looked away.

“Whatever.” Eclipse mumbled.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a stream to get back to.” Daniel said as he walked over to his computer.

“What’s a stream?” Eclipse asked as he flew behind Daniel.

“It’s a way for me and my friends to make content for our channel, interacting with our viewers, all that.” Daniel said as he put his headphones on and unmuted himself. “Sorry guys, there was a big ass mosquito I had to deal with after the fire.”

Eclipse scrunched up his face at that but didn’t say anything as he sat on the desk. Daniel glanced at him but didn’t say anything. May as well let the fairy watch.

•

•

•

•

•

•

About two hours had passed and the stream was finally over. Daniel said bye to his friends and took off his headphones. Eclipse was still on the desk, looking curious at what he watched for the last 2 hours.

“What was all that?” Eclipse asked.

“What was what?” Daniel asked.

“All of that! The images were moving… and you controlled it with that… what’s that??” Eclipse asked as he pointed at the keyboard.

“My keyboard? Well, I sometimes use it to play games on my computer but other times I use a controller.” Daniel said.

“Controller?” Eclipse repeated.

“I’m gonna have to teach you everything don’t I?” Daniel mumbled. “Listen, I don’t mind helping you out with all this stuff, it’s very new to you, that is clear. But please don’t burn anything, I don’t want anything important to get damaged.”

“No promises~” Eclipse grinned, making Daniel sigh.

“Okay, whatever.” Daniel mumbled. “By the way, what’s up with your clothes?”

“My clothes?” Eclipse asked as he looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with them?”

“They look rather damaged. Plus you aren’t wearing any shoes.” Daniel said.

“I have not been able to get new clothes in a long time.” Eclipse mumbled.

“I see… Well, your clothes gotta be changed.” Daniel said.

“I am fine like this.” Eclipse said as he crossed his arms.

“Doubt it. I think I have some clothes your size, I do make mini clothes for dolls.” Daniel mumbled as he searched through some drawers.

“I am telling you, I am perfectly fine with what I am wearing.” Eclipse said, blowing smoke from his nostrils.

“Could have fooled me.” Daniel muttered as he found some small clothes. “There we go! Found em!”

“I am not wearing your human made drags!” Eclipse said with a glare.

“Come on, it’ll be fine!” Daniel said.

“No way!” Eclipse exclaimed before taking out his wings and flying out of Daniel’s room.

“Hey hey, don’t fly away like that! My parents could be in the apartment!” Daniel yelled as he ran after Eclipse.

Daniel and Eclipse went through a cat and mouse chase for a while, Daniel occasionally having to save some stuff that was knocked off by Eclipse flying around. Luckily, Daniel’s parents were still busy with the bakery so they didn’t see the scene that was happening at the moment. After a while, Daniel was able to catch and swaddle Eclipse in a fluffy towel, one of those small ones used to dry your hands. Eclipse was a huffy and struggling mess until he eventually gave up. He could have burned the towel easily but it actually felt kinda nice, not like he would admit it.

“Listen, I won’t force you to wear the clothes. At least TRY them and if you don’t like them, ya can keep wearing your old clothes.” Daniel said as he brought back a swaddled Eclipse to his room.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” Eclipse huffed as Daniel unwrapped him from the towel. “You really made these yourself?”

“Mmhmm! I have wanted to be a fashion designer one day so I have been practicing ever since I was a kid. I think I became quite decent at it.” Daniel said rather proudly.

“Right.” Eclipse said as he took the clothes and looked them over.

“BRB, I gotta check on the bakery.” Daniel said as he walked out of the room, closing the door.

Eclipse watched as Daniel left. How odd, he could easily destroy everything that Daniel loved right at that moment when he was gone but he still trusted him? A naive kid. A nice one but still naive.

Eclipse looked back at the clothes.

Maybe he could wait for a few days before causing much damage… The clothes don’t seem that bad anyway.

(This was so fun to write! Fairy Eclipse belongs to @ayyy-imma-ninja, hope I did the boy Justice lol! Daniel/Aspen is my Oc, I love him! Hope you enjoyed this!)

((Bonus: Daniel’s avatar, Aspen, in Autumn form!))

[agattthaa]

Jealous

Paring: Walter/Vyxaria

Word count: 1.848

Rating: T

(Mentions of jealousy)

Summary: Vyxaria didn't feel jealousy. It was time to Walter to learn that.

Based on the idea my dear @ratanslily gave me, I hope everyone enjoys it.

Vincent had been the first to leave, completely uninterested in whatever trouble that she could’ve put herself in already and Walter had already finished to place her things from his house to hers. And still, her door continued to open.

For no reason at all, of course.

Surely the last thing she wished to see after a near death experience was her annoying neighbors and their annoying kids, and still, her door was open. And really, for no reason at all.

Because surely the reason why she kept the apartment door open was to let some air get into the apartment after it was closed during an entire week and definitely wasn’t to see if someone would walk out of someone else’s apartment anytime soon. So, she simply focused on opening the boxes that rested on her floors and picking places for all the stuff she had bought, letting the empty, torn apart boxes in the way.

-Looks like you are having fun.

Of course, her peace could not last that long. The dark-haired woman stranded just outside of Vyxaria’s apartment, her hip resting against the doorway and a sarcastic smirk adorning her lips and Walter stood behind her with a worried face towards Vyxaria. The demon simply rolled her eyes to the scene, getting up from the floor and crossing her arms just under her chest.

-I don’t remember inviting you into my apartment.

-Oh, don’t worry, I’m just leaving. Just thought about coming here to give you a last look. I'm sure you appreciate my gesture of friendship, don’t you?

-You are not my friend. Get out of my house.

If the woman could feel her anger, she clearly did a good job at hiding it, stepping inside Vyxaria’s apartment and walking closer to the demon, the vicious smile still on her face. Walter gave one step forward, maybe thinking about putting an end to the situation, but one look from Vyxaria was enough to stop him. She might have no idea of what they are, but she knew that the woman was not a threat to her. Vyxaria was way too powerful for that.

-You are too angry, poor thing. I just came to say goodbye. Take care of him while I'm gone, okay? And please, try not to break his heart too much.

The woman's smile widened when Vyxaria got more annoyed, so she simply patted the demon on the shoulder and walked out, leaving one kiss on Walter's cheek before leaving the building. Walter looked embarrassed about the entire situation, especially about the little kiss, which only made her more annoyed. When the demon marched forward to close the door on his face, he took a step forward, getting inside her apartment.

Maybe Vyxaria should start walking around in her demon form, because it seemed that those mortals were forgetting who she was.

-Sorry about that. Please, pay her words no mind. It's simply how she is.

-I honestly couldn't care less about what your lover does or what she thinks of me.

-She's not my girlfriend!

He had never been that quick to disagree with her before. She didn't know what to think about that.

-Who is she then?

-She is… all you need to know is that there's no romantic connection between the two of us.

-And why would I need to know that?

-Perhaps you don't, but I want you to know, anyway.

It made no sense until it did. The high blush on his face, the way he was avoiding her eyes even with how close they physically were in that moment and the little smile on his lips.

-You think I am jealous.

It was a statement, she didn't need to ask, she was sure of it already. The red didn't leave his face but his eyes finally met hers, widened more than they ever were.

-Oh I didn’t mean to… It was not my intention…. I just don't want you to have the wrong impression.

She would never admit it out loud, but the stumble mixed with the red that now also tinted his ears and his neck made him look cute. She closed the door, making his eyes open a little wider.

This was going to be fun.

She grabbed him by the the front of his hideous blue sweater and pulled him towards her couch, carelessly throwing him there.

He sat there confused until she climbed on his lap, her legs each on the side of his, almost as if they were holding him into place, and now she was the one with a devious smile on her lips. One that only grew bigger as he grew redder.

-Vyxaria, what…

He immediately stopped talking when she rubbed her forearm on his cheek, precisely on the place he had been kissed minutes before.

-You wanted me to be jealous. Okay.

He was going to try to say something, she was sure of that, but his words died on his throat as soon as she kissed his forehead. Then his temple, and his left eye and his right eye, his cheek, his nose, his chin. Every stop on his face beside his lips.

And the exact place he had been kissed earlier.

Each kiss made him even more shy, and when she pulled back from kissing the corner of his mouth, she noticed he was no longer opening his eyes. Her smile only grew wider.

It was a weird satisfaction. One that she had never thought of having.

She had always searched for the most corrupted souls to feed on. She had gotten used to their disgusting hands and their disgusting taste. It bought her no other satisfaction outside of feeding and laughing when they fell into her illusions. She had never allowed them to really touch her, to really feel her, she had never taken the time to kiss them all over the face just to make them shy.

Not that any of her prey would even behave like Walter. If she had done this with anyone else, they would already been trying to take control and advantage of the situation. Their disgusting hands would be already trying to peel Vyxaria’s clothes away from her body and their minds would be think about ways to use her body to bring them satisfaction. And meanwhile, Walter had his hands perfectly placed on the couch, squeezing his hands tighter and tighter against it each time she gave him another kiss.

So really, it was a very strange satisfaction. Because she would feel disgusted to people's touch more often then not, but now, she really wanted him to hold her instead of the couch.

It clearly wasn't enough.

So her lips made their way past his jawline, biting his flesh as soon as she reached his neck. His hands immediately holding her waist and his eyes opening comically wide.

-Vyxaria!

-Should I stop?

They stayed in silence for just a couple of seconds before he leaned his head to the side, leaving his neck open wide to her. The first bit was already tinting red and making her smile to herself, pressing her lips just besides it and sucking his skin. The man under her let the air off his lungs by his mouth, squeezing her waist and pulling her closer, pressing his chest against her and making her smile bigger. She took another bite, then another, then started sucking and sucking his skin. The first bite already turning purple while the number of red spots only grew wider. His voice was already hoarse from all the sighs and pants and suspires he let out since she threw him on that couch. Each noise he let out only made her want more. More of his sweet sighs, more of the pressure of his hands against her waist, more of their bodies pressed against each other.

-You're going to make my entire neck purple.

-That doesn't sound like a complaint.

To that, he only squeezed her waist again. His hands firmly pressed to it, refusing to leave their resting place. Maybe it was time for her to step up again. Running her tongue against the red and purple spots, she gently bit his skin just above his Adam's pome. That made it. He let a soft moan, hugging her and pressing his hands around her back.

The smile on Vyxaria’s face could only be described as a victorious one as she pulled away to fully look at the scene. His neck was adorned in a thousand different shades of pink, red, marron and purple. His fush still high on his face and his head still leaning to the side, his eyes half closed and he was looking at her, ready to give her anything she could ever ask on that moment, even himself.

Vyxaria simply tapped his shoulder and started climbing of his lap, startling the man.

-Time to go grab the rest of my boxes.

Walter blinked once, twice, thrice, visibly shaken by the lack of her closeness. He took almost an entire minute to process what she meant, making she let out a small laugh when he jumped out of the couch.

-Oh rigth, your boxes.

He almost ran away from her apartment while she sat down precisely where he had been. Each time he came back placing the boxes on the ground, he turned red again when looked at her and she only smiled wider with the spots on his neck turning darker and he making no effort at all to try to conceal them.

Three trips to his apartment and back, and now he only had one small package on his hand. Vyxaria got up from the couch, walking towards him with a smile high on her face and grabbing the package from him.

-This was the last one.

-I see.

He watched her lips carefully as she mouthed every single letter. His entire neck was already marked and everyone would be able to see it unless he wore a very high turtleneck, but he didn't seem to mind either way.

-You have a lot of things to set up, obviously. If you need any help, you know where to find me.

She simply nodded, making a motion to close the door. He made such a pathetic sad face that she immediately remembered a video of a sad puppy asking for pets from it's owner that she had seen a while ago on one of those video apps on her phone. She couldn't fight against the small smile on her lips or the strange feeling on her heart, so she simply placed a chaste kiss on his lips, the only type she had never given.

He beamed instantly, a silly smile on his lips as Vyxaria simply rolled her eyes, closing the door as his smile grew wider when he touched his lips with his fingertips.

And when she turned around to look at the boxes on the floor, she knew that now they were both aware that she had no reason to ever be jealous.

[be-my-ally]

The Return Flight

Big Bunny #2

As always it's super late here, I will re-edit grammar etc tomorrow! enjoy!

Summary: It’s the next day and they’re off on their return flight. Elvis and Bunny get up to panicking and meditating, and then a couple hours of later one of the other bunnies joins them. Idk I just really can’t see elvis missing out on such a prime chance for a teeny lil bit of voyeuristic action. 

I truly tried to wiggle the wrist weights in but alas, not to be today - next time though, next time. 

Warnings: 18+, p in v penetrative sex, handjobs (v), oral (p and v), mentions of drug use, graphic description of a panic attack, f/f touching, elvis is kinda sweet in this one - except for the voyeurism + girl on girl action; TO CLARIFY - this is asked for by elvis + both parties consensually agree however, I am warning about very teeny tiny elements of internalised homophobia + the fact that reader implies she only does so (at least at first) to please elvis - she is not, however, reluctant nor unwilling.

wc: 11.4k

FYI: I’ve updated my bio to say I’m pausing requests - just until I get my inbox cleared down + posted! xx Also!!! I’ve had a couple of requests for a taglist - so this is my official mention of that; lmk if you want me to tag you in future posts! FINALLY found images of Elvis AND big bunny! pictured on the left and top right below!

Your brief encounter with Elvis had been your first experience of anything casual, or meaningless, and you’ve never had to navigate the emotions or situations before. It makes you antsy that you don’t know the correct procedure even before you’d left the plane; what do you even say to him? ‘Thanks for the sex, see you on the flight tonight?’ You’re not proud of it, but you ultimately panic to such an extent that you hide in the powder room until they’ve all disembarked. You’d not realised you’d have to hide from the other bunnies too though; they’d all converged on you as soon as you’d left - desperate for any morsel of information you would give. You’d somehow, thankfully for your dignity and the taxi driver’s ears, managed to prevent them from asking too many questions until you’d all arrived at the hotel where you would be staying. 

You were looking forward to ensconcing yourself in the hotel room, a proper shower and time to relax for the night and day or so before the return flight. That was, however, not to be, and you were thankful that you’d had the chance to at least wipe yourself down before getting redressed on the plane; your sudden lack of tights had forced you back into your dress - unwilling to be so exposed in your bunny corset. Instead of the peaceful night you had planned Daisy and Maggie were forcing their way into the room (of course, they’d have been sharing with you anyway but you can’t say that you didn’t try to run in and close the door on them) with Darla and Michelle close behind; you forget sometimes that even though they may be more ‘senior’ bunnies, they were still only two years older than you. They sit down around you, demanding you tell them everything, wanting you to fill in the gaps between the assumptions they could make from what they’d heard and when things had gone silent. 

“Oh lord, I just don’t know what to do -” You'd said after you’d recounted, blushing, the majority of the details; you’d left out him licking you, or that you think that might have been the first true orgasm of your life. You leave out that you think the hour you spent with him might have made you fall in love, and other ridiculous notions. And, for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a detailed description of him, trying to simultaneously protect him and to keep something just for you; you wouldn’t let them speculate on his size, or his stamina. But you had mentioned that he had a thing for feet, something that had been met with raucous laughter and clapping from the girls when you’d prefaced that with the story of your pantyhose being torn. You were, despite your embarrassment, glad to have these girls around you - you’d grown up in a fairly conservative part of town, and you know any of your close childhood or home friends would have been disgusted with you. They might have let it go - since it was Elvis, or have loudly judged you while silently expressing a level of jealousy but under no circumstances would they have encouraged the behaviour, or been so happy for you. Nor would they have interjected your story with their own, somewhat similar, although far less famous, tales. By the time the conversation had gotten back around to your dilemma with how to deal with Elvis again you were all relaxing on the two beds, piled up and crossed legged like a slumber party. “So really - what should I do?” 

“Just don’t change a thing,” Daisy recommends, “If he wants to make something of it let him, but you have to rise above it all. Seem like you don’t care. “ Maggie offers you differing advice;

“If you want it to happen again, just be all over him, it’s not like you have to worry that he doesn’t like you.” You consider these opposing suggestions, silent, sipping the terrible hotel coffee. Michelle speaks up, Darla nodding in agreement;

“In my experience… you’ve got to subtly let him know you’re there and available, but don’t fawn over him, just … just say hello in a friendly way and it’s all in his hands then. Remember, be casual about it.” You consider this for a moment before agreeing. It does seem to be the way of the least mortification. You try to put it out of your mind for the remainder of the break, taking the time to try and focus on resting and relaxing before you had to be back in the air. 

This time, there’s far less pomp and circumstance around his arrival; and you’re not surprised to see that it’s solely the same group again. Only Darla greets them on the tarmac - the rest of you already onboard and preparing for a quicker departure than last time. This time, you’re all in your little bunny suits, collars and cuffs, cottontails perfectly fluffed - since he’d requested it you all assumed it would save being made to change. This airport was, despite being private, closer in airspace to the larger international airport and your takeoff time was therefore far stricter than any of you would have liked. All knowing that sometimes these celebrities were as difficult to wrangle as herding a particularly difficult group of cats.

So you don’t have a chance to really look at him, take him in, until he’s brushing past you, his thick hands on your hips and waist moving you from where you’re blocking a narrower part of hallway with your body. He doesn’t say excuse me, or ask you to move, just manhandles you across him. You feel then, before you see, the soft plush fabric of his outfit, and when you glance over your shoulder at him you’re a little surprised that rather than the expensive, perfectly fitted, suit he was wearing last time, this time he was wearing a, clearly expensive but nonetheless fairly ordinary, tracksuit - navy blue, low zipper exposing the wide collared shirt underneath - his chest hair peeking out. Your tummy flips seeing him, and you stay very still where he’s put you, struggling to remember what your plan had been. He pats your ass, casually, in the blatantly chauvinistic way that should make you squirm, that implies he could and would do it to any girl at any time - although you hadn’t actually witnessed that yourself, and you’re mortified that at even that brief touch, without any words exchanged your breath hitches and your mind goes slightly blank. He’s gone by the time you try to open your mouth to say something and you try to clear your head by distracting yourself with the take-off preparations. 

Michelle is eyeing you up when you’re finishing checking the door, and she opens her mouth but you’re frantically shaking your head before she can say anything, gesturing to not say a word. She frowns, but complies - a moment later only asking you to help her sort the food out. You do so, happy to disappear for a little while and let the others deal with them for a bit. It’s not long after that the pilots signal for take-off and you sit down briefly as the plane taxies down the runway. You’re distracted enough by the situation you find yourself in; are you making it more awkward not talking to him? That for once the take-off doesn’t bother you at all and soon the plane is balanced in the air, allowing you and Michelle to finish your preparations. Daisy pops her head around the corner a few minutes later saying you’d been requested. 

You breathe in, deeply, as much as you can as a little bunny, plastering a smile on your face and you head out to the forward compartment where the group is sat. You expect to walk straight over to Elvis, but you’re stopped by someone else whose name escaped you - barely greeting you; 

“Look babydoll, last night, you made me the best Mai Tai of my life, and I’m sure you’re all…” he looks sideways, “as well trained as each other, but honey,  I’d really like it if you could do me another one?” You somehow manage to keep your face in check even though you want to scream at his barely concealed innuendo. Instead, you agree, customer service smile on your face, and turn to the rest of the compartment asking if they were all ready for drinks. There’s a resulting chorus of orders and so you head over to the bar to get started. Elvis hadn’t responded, walking out when you’d walked in - he’d gone right into the conference space and one of the boys had mimed a phone to his ear at another's questioning face. You were a little hurt to not be acknowledged but also, truthfully, a little relieved to not have to deal with him for the second. But it wasn’t to last long, upon delivering the other drinks with the other girls to many a relieved sigh,  a different man had pointed through to the conference area, gesturing to the bar, 

“Think you should take the boss a little pick me up too.” You nod in agreement but he hadn’t drank last time and you have no idea what that would mean making so instead you pour a short glass of cola, hoping that’ll do at least, and balancing the glass on the tray, head through the little curtained archway. You try not to show any emotion when you walk through, keeping your face neutral and concentrating on holding the drinks tray, the slight tip of the plane was liable to send a single glass sliding if you didn’t balance it perfectly. You hear him before you see him, curled against the wall with the phone pressed to his ear. His fingers twirling the cord as he looked out of the window, but with how dark it was outside he could only be looking at his reflection. You’d intended your poker face to display that you weren’t going to be the first to crack, to acknowledge anything but now you’re having to maintain it to retain dignity once you hear what he’s saying. He’s sweet-talking a girl, uttering promises and reassurances; 

“No, honey, darling, no - would I be ringing you now? You don’t need to nag me baby, that’s right you’re my baby aren’t ya, ye-ah, put it on your card honey, on my card, yeah that’s no problem… you know I like you in blue…” 

You know you have no claim on him; despite your activities together you’ve barely spoken to him, and you’ve only known the man 24 hours and yet a weird surge of possessiveness fills you. Or is it even possessiveness? Or just plain jealousy? Half the trouble was that you’ve never wanted someone like this — you’d never understood why the girls at school would fawn over a specific boy, it had never interested you. You’d never lain awake wondering what you should wear or how you should style your hair to best catch their attention. But today, just this morning, you’d nipped out to the nearest drugstore to the hotel and frivolously bought a new lipstick; you had no need for a new one, and certainly not in the colour you’d chosen - far flashier than you would usually wear, for some reason certain it would catch his eye, but you’d been unable to resist the temptation of putting on a bit of a show for him. To have that gone to waste, for him to ignore you, preoccupied with worrying about appeasing some other girl? Who wasn’t even there? You were annoyed at yourself, for being hurt by his actions and for doing it in the first place. 

He finally spots you in the window and he turns, waving you over, reaching out a hand for his drink off of your tray. He doesn’t verbally acknowledge you, or pause in his conversation, simply demanding you come closer with an impatient hand raised. You come towards him, dipping to allow him to easily take the glass, and you watch as he immediately tips it back for a gulp and places the half-full glass back onto the tray. He makes a little mmhmm noise down the phone as he turns his attention back to the call, and the girl on the other end. You turn to leave, not willing to simply stand there and wait for him to want the glass again, jumping when you feel him swat at your exposed thigh. You whirl back around, ready to either playfully (or truthfully, actually) confront him - once was fine but twice? But, before you can he’s back giving his attention to the phone again, looking out of the window. You take it as the dismissal he meant it, and you hate that as you walk away you add an extra sway to your walk - bunny tail bobbing with the motion - just in case he’s looking, and that you can feel your slightly smug smile from even that touch.

It feels like hours, but it was probably only twenty or so minutes later when he returns to the forward compartment, settling down into the large sofa-seat in the middle of the cabin. You’re forced to walk past a moment later and he grabs your arm on the way; 

“You look real good today Bunny - very cute.” You wiggle your tail at him and he chuckles; that deep laugh that starts in his chest but ends in his belly. His head rocks and it causes his loose hair to flop about, so different from it’s stiff look from the years prior. You beam at him, pleased to have been so entertaining. He looks you up and down again, still holding onto you,

“Like the lips darlin’. You wear that just for me?” You shake your head no, but he just laughs at you, “Ohhhh, you did it for ol’ Joe over there then did ya?” Feeling the catch-22 you’ve put yourself into you frown, you don’t want to admit that you did do it for him, but god do you not want him to even jokingly suggest you were trying to attract one of the other guys. So you do the next best thing, shaking your head and teasing him back.

“Nu-uh it was for me.” He laughs back at you, his eyes crinkling. When he calms back down he shakes his head in disbelief. 

“ O’course it was honey,” You protest his condescending tone,

“It was!” You gesture down at yourself,  “I don’t put all this on just for you,” He laughs again, eyes crinkling as he crows at you; shouting to the rest of the boys.

 “Ooh-hoo we got ourselves a real-life feminist bunny over here!” He says it mockingly, adding a sneer; “Watch out Ms. Steinem!” He scoffs,  “Now hon-ney, we both know it ain’t true… so why don’t you stop playing hard to get, admit you made yourself all pretty for me and come and sit over here. Right on daddy’s knee.” He pats his lap. You frown, you were a feminist, but his lap did look pretty inviting, and your heels were already hurting and you had wanted his attention. So, you do. 

“I’m only doing this because you’re paying me.” He chuckles again, one hand coming around you to hold your waist, the other coming to hike your legs further up and across him, his broad hand rubbing your thigh as he does so;

“Sure thing honey - you want me to tip you a little extra for whatever we’re about to do in there?” He nods his head towards the back of the plane. You frown a little, you know he’s joking but you’re suddenly a little worried he does think you’re paid to provide him with extra services. ‘We naturally do not tolerate any merchandising of the bunnies.’ That’s what the bunny bible says. Its word is law, so it’s not true that any extra services are expected. But then, when you think about it, you were told to be…nice to him. The annoying thought then registers, less concern about whether what you’re doing is against the rules, that you hope he realises that you’re doing this because you want to and not just because you’ve been told to. You try to shake this thought off, be casual - c’mon be casual, the mantra running through your head as you attempt to push all other thoughts and feelings out. After all, you don’t want him to think you’re not fun, or reading too much in to anything. 

“No-o, that’s, that’s, that’s just an added bonus.” You stroke down the zipper of his jacket, and he laughs again, grabbing your hand and kissing the knuckles.  He spreads your hands in his, assessing them. 

“God, you got such pretty little fingers baby, look at them lil’ nails  - what’s that colour called? Call-Girl Red? Scarlet Tart?” You blush, but you’re able to laugh, recognising that he would only continue to suggest increasingly ridiculous names until you did. He holds you there while he finishes his conversation with the boys, fingers brushing over your skin, until finally, he pats your thigh phrasing an order as a question - “Come through to the bedroom, doll?” You stand up, waiting for him to lead the way to the bedroom at the back of the plane; instead he stands and gestures ahead of him.

“C’mon bunny, hop to it,” He pauses, grinning after his borderline tragic bunny pun as if waiting for a laugh; you comply with a polite giggle even though it’s really not that funny, and take his hand when he holds it out, “let’s go.” When you cross into the bedroom he lets go, leaving you to sit down on the huge elliptical bed while he disappears into the bathroom for a moment. You try to breathe, wondering what he has planned when he returns. 

You have no idea why you’re suddenly so nervous. There’s a rising sensation of breathlessness travelling up your chest, your stomach churning a little. You feel inexplicably sick, and for a moment you worry, as the plane bobs the tiniest bit - the motion normally soothing, that you might actually puke. He’s still in the bathroom, and you’re trying to calm yourself down - what will you say to him when he comes out? He’s expecting something now. You don’t want to miss out on anything, it had been so good last time; you didn’t want this to be the new lasting memory of your, however brief, time together. You try to tell yourself you’re being ridiculous - c’mon now, calm down, you’re fine - it’s not like he hasn’t seen you before - not like you haven’t done this before, why are you doing this - don’t ruin it for yourself - oh my god why are you such a little baby get a grip.  But that clawing feeling is climbing your chest and you’re struggling to swallow - to breathe. You’re ripping off your little bow and collar as hurriedly as you can but it doesn’t make a difference. You sink down lower, practically lying down now, attempting to practice deep breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth. It’s in that moment he comes bounding out of the bathroom - looking you over, as if he’d expected to be ready to pounce; not deal with you still fully dressed (as much as you could be in the bunny corset) and close to tears. 

“Hey - hey honey what’s this?” He sounds panicked, and his pitch only increases at the tear falling down your cheek. You try to speak but can’t; “Just - Just talk to me bunny, what, what’s wrong?”  You whine at him, trying to sit up and look at him rather than peep from your horizontal angle. He makes it easier by sitting by you on the bed and peering down at your face. 

“Nuh-uh-thing,” You finally gasp out, “Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just - just got myself all twisted.” A tear slips out, and you angrily brush it away trying to stem the flow. He looks concerned for a second, patting your arm.

“I won’t - we haven’t -  we don’t gotta do anything baby, you know that? Not gotta do a thing you don’t wanna do.” He sounds unsure, like he’s not had to deal with this before, or like he’s nervous he’s upset you. It only makes the tears fall a little faster - at how nice he’s being to you when you don’t feel as though you deserve it.

“No-o no I know, I want to,  I just can’t seem to stop,” You talk through your hitched breaths, trying to explain. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t breathe.” He hums, looking over at the little table that ran the length of the wall, at the little black bag settled there before patting his thighs and sighing. 

“Right. ‘nough messing about - lemme just get one of the boys to call Dr. -” 

“No! No! No - I want you! I wanna do this!” You roll onto your side, scrambling upright and turning to grip his jacket, twisting it in your fist. “I wanna - Elvis I promise I’ll be fine in a second just need to calm down. Catch my breath.”

“Well, if its just you’re breathing all funny let me just give you a puff of an inhaler; they’ve barely got anything in them, just wet your throat really but- but they do help,” You shake your head and he sighs again, as if unhappy you’d refuse the offer. But then he nods, almost to himself, and taking matters into his own hands - hauls you up to be leaning against this thick, sturdy, chest. The zipper was a little lower than before and another button of his shirt has popped open allowing you to pillow your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you feel yourself come down. Shame creeping up as you become fully lucid at how irrational you’d behaved. You sit there for a little while - maybe as long as twenty minutes, but could be as short as ten. Elvis hums song after song at you, occasionally breaking into a little quiet verse, chest hairs tickling you as he moved. Finally you feel sane enough to push up a little, pulling away.

“Sorry - Sorry don’t know what came over me.” You stare at his chest, avoiding making eye contact. He brushes his hand over your chin, pulling it up to force you to look at him. He’s looking at you with an expression of tenderness that’s almost too much to bear. 

“S’all right doll, told you - it’s all fine.” You give him a tentative smile. 

“I’m sure that wasn’t very …sexy of me, but I do wanna give it another go, please Elvis?” He looks at you hard for a moment, directly in your eyes, as if attempting to judge you were being serious. He clearly decides you were because a moment later he’s leaning over you and moving his hand up your leg. 

But when his hand grazes your upper thigh, travelling upwards you feel yourself tense, suddenly stiff as a board. He kisses your neck, and his hand retreats. He spends a long couple of minutes stroking your arm, kissing your neck - your ears. Before attempting it for a second time. Again he gets most of the way there before you go stiff and tense. He moves his hand back to your arm,  talking lowly and slowly, practically whispering. 

“Now, darlin’ s’ok - we’ve done it before baby.” He’s soothing you like you’re a skittish horse, crooning into your ear, “If you wanna do this I need you to relax for me darling. Can’t do anything otherwise.” You nod, agitated at the accusation that you’re not already attempting to relax. 

“I’m trying Elvis - I want to too! I just, it’s involuntary!” He hums - looking over at the bag again -

“Look, honey, I’ve got some, some ‘ludes you can take,” You frown, you didn’t think Elvis was known for doing disco drugs. “I take ‘em to uh help me settle down baby.” You start to speak, perhaps to question the veracity of this claim or where he gets these from - considering his position on recreational drugs. But before you can he’s talking again; “Don’t get me wrong doll, I’m not - don’t get it twisted - they’re prescribed.” He pauses again - “But they’ll sort you right out, real leg spreaders. Won’t change your mind, if you say you want it you still will but, trust me, they’ll relax your body enough.” You shake your head at him, not admitting that while you would love to breathe the concept of not being in complete control of your body was terrifying, instead taking deep breaths to try and force yourself to relax a little more. 

“No-no, no need for that, ‘m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me - I’m so nervous today - I just, sorry - just need another minute.” He sighs again, and although the irrational part of your brain worries it’s in annoyance you can tell he’s more annoyed about you consistently declining his offers of help. He’s still doing his best to soothe you, delicate fingers firmly rubbing your arms and sides, a constant motion. “I just - I know it’s ridiculous, but I still feel like I can’t breathe properly.” His fingers stop on the boning of the corset, and he taps it - as if he’s discovered an answer. 

“Awh no this is silly now doll, who could all squished in there like that.” He gestures down to where your chest is threatening to spill out of the tightly laced and zipped bodice. You frown, you’re pretty sure it’s mental and not physical but now he’s drawn attention to it you feel like it’s tightening around your middle. You twist to attempt to unhook it yourself - moving forward to bend out of his lap; “No, no darling, let me - I’ll get this thing offa you.” He pushes you further forward a little way, and then with surprising skill deftly undoes the bunny corset. You don’t want to admit it but the moment the hooks fall away you do feel as if some of the air has returned to your lungs. He’s gently and firmly peeling it away from your body, pulling it down and off of your legs - tutting and stroking the little red marks where the seams and boning have dug into you a little - whether because it was just generally too tight or because you’d been contorted into a slightly awkward position. 

“Lord almighty - they doin’ that to you every day?” You shrug, about to say that it wasn’t that much worse than some of your tighter dresses or your panty girdle. He holds it up though, looking at it with distaste, rather than the humour he had the first time he’d seen it off of you -  as if seeing it for the first time. “They should make ‘em stretchier! Or - or - a better lining!” He frowns again, “I’m gonna ring Hef and tell him - it’s not right!” You shake your head, the conversation at least distracting you from your lungs. 

“Elvis - it’s not like I’m meant to be naked right now. How would you supposedly know.” You gesture down at yourself, a little flushed at the realisation that you were, in fact topless and therefore nude from the waist up. He laughs at you, a little condescendingly. 

“You ‘spect me to believe he doesn’t know what you’re up to?” He pauses, “Or that…, bunny, you know, I was, uh, warned that you girls would be… available.” You grimace, it makes you feel like a whore when it’s put like that and you try to return you mind to the point you were trying to make. 

“Well, still, if it’s because of me that the boat gets rocked - I like my job, and it was at your request we’re proper bunnies today and not in our flight uniforms!” He rolls his eyes at you, huffing at the accusation.

“Ok, ok. Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You laugh a little, and you notice your chest bobbing with the motion - it makes you suddenly very aware of your nudity, probably a sign that you’re starting to return to normal, and you wrap an arm around your middle while scrambling to sit properly upright instead of in a semi recline. He looks at you sideways, starting to lean down, 

“Well - now we got that sorted - “ You cut him off,

“It wasn’t about that - it was just, I just got all caught in my head, I think I’m a little messed up; it happens every now and again. It just - anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Could you, sorry, would you pass me my bag from over there?” You nod towards the bag just inside the door, it had been a little presumptuous perhaps but you’d left it close enough that if you had missed the mark it wouldn’t have been tricky to move or hide it. “I’ll get changed now.” He frowns, he’s sat upright again himself, but doesn’t move for the bag, instead pulling your arm around and dragging you to sit over his legs again - he leans back, pulling your head to lie on his chest. 

“Babe - there’s nothing wrong with you… you just gotta, gotta put a little of it into the air, believe it’s happening for a reason.” He pauses, one arm moving up to wrap around your waist, the other stroking your arm, catching on the little cuff that was still there. “You gotta promise you won’t - it’s no secret, not anymore, but I don’t share this with everyone - so you promise you won’t laugh?” You nod, as best you can - he sounds nervous. “My mama, she er, she always used to say I was real special, that I had a gift.” You nod again, assuming this is about to lead into him singing something to you which, while you didn’t think it was going to be key to ending these nerve attacks you keep having, is certainly not something you would discourage. “But, she uh used to say I had the power to heal things, and, and I think its true baby, so will you - maybe if we can; if I can give you some of my ‘nergy and we think about it - real hard - together, we might get somewhere? Just gotta, gotta connect - spiritually. Maybe if I, If I push on you, and we meditate together we might, it might help?” He looks so hopeful and sounds so earnest that, despite your misgivings about the veracity of these claims, you agree. 

“Ok, ok - if you think, if it might help. I just, I do wanna do things with you, I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You won’t baby, you won’t.” He sits down, cross legged at the top of the bed, pulling you around to sit in front of him. He makes no mention of your nakedness, and you’re doing your best not to notice it yourself. “Ok, honey, so just, I’m gonna put my hands here, and you’re just going to breathe with me ok?” His eyes are bright, and his face open, like he’s simply excited to be able to share this with someone. You nod, placing your hands on top of where his are resting on his thighs. “Hold on baby, let’s get these offa ya too.” And he unbuttons your little cuffs, rubbing your wrists where they’d sat, “You don’t hafta, don’t need to think about anything ok darling? You just sit there, and focus on my hands and match my breathing ok? I’ll do all the hard work.” You nod again, and he shuffles himself a little, as if getting himself ready to settle in. “Oh - and I want you to close your eyes.” You look at him for a second, attempting to gauge that he’s being serious and this isn’t some kind of elaborate set-up. He gazes back at you, blue eyes completely calm, and you let your eyes slip closed. He hums a moment later, and then you feel him clasping your hands. 

You can tell he’s focussing his breathing, slowing it down and drawing it out, and you match him as best you can, feeling him spread your fingers and press his palms into yours. It takes all of your attention and sufficiently distracts you from your panic and worry that quickly you don’t realise you’re no longer thinking about anything but the light pressure of his hand on yours and the air filling your lungs. 

You’re entirely focussed on his slow, measured breaths, and your mind is blank - it’s almost a surprise when an immeasurable time later he flexes his hands, whispering at you to open your eyes. You come back up slowly, blinking in the artificial light of the plane, despite Elvis having used the dimmer. 

Although you do, admittedly, feel better you’re still not wholly convinced by his healing properties. What you are grateful for however, is how happy he looks when you open your eyes, as if pleased to have been given the opportunity. And regardless of the ability to heal you, you also feel like something has changed. A shift in the energy between you. 

His hand grasps yours, his fingers releasing you to trail up your wrist, up your forearm, and stroke back down to your palms again, brushing his fingers all the way down to your very fingertips and starting all over again. The motion of it, after the intimacy of the last half hour sends your nerve-endings alight, goosebumps forming over your flesh. You feel completely calm, completely ready for him again, your posture straight but relaxed. He moves his hands further up, brushing against your armpits and you gasp as he tickles you the tiniest amount. Suddenly, you find yourself up on your knees - leaning into him, falling into him. Your hands cupping his face, fingers tangling in his sideburns. He catches you in his relaxed arms, the soft fabric of his jacket rubbing against your nipples. He’s still breathing quite deeply, mouth parted - and it allows you to press your lips against his, tongue rapidly falling into his mouth. His hands spread across your torso, curving around your chest as you lean into him - trying to get as physically close to him as you emotionally feel.

His thumbs twirl in circles and your back arches as your nipples pebble against his soft touch - your pussy suddenly starting to feel unbearably hot in its three layers of tights and panties. You huff against his lips, pulling back to grasp the waistband of them all - determined to simply roll them all down together, saving them from him, and you do so in one motion almost immediately regretting that it left you completely bare while he was still fully clothed. He doesn’t give you a chance for it to be more than a fleeting thought though, lying you back, still focussed on making you breathless with his mouth. He kisses along your cheek to your neck and you gasp as he sucks on the sensitive patch just above where your collar bone joins your shoulder. You try to reciprocate, pushing the jacket off of him and struggling to unbutton the last of his shirt -  exposing his chest and stomach. He bats your hand away when you go for the top of his pants, pulling away from you and he stands up - surveying you. 

“You ready for me, baby?” You squirm a little under his gaze, and you’re not sure where the boldness comes from to reach a hand down, dragging a finger over your wetness, and spreading the folds of your labia open for him to see the glistening stickiness within. 

“I dunno, what do you think?” His mouth gapes at you, breathing heavily, the motion as unexpected to him as it was to you, and as you sink a finger into yourself, moaning while you do, he hurriedly removes his pants - throwing them somewhere, his eyes never straying from your core. He pushes your arm out of the way a moment later, 

“Think you look like a goddamn fucking centrefold - Jesus Christ, bunny, Lord, all for me, Halle-fucking-lujah,” He lowers himself back down, pressing a kiss to your chest, pumping himself a few times before lining his cock up with your entrance. 

He sinks into you, slowly, letting you feel every inch of him that he guides into you. The slight overhang of his belly pressing against your middle as he holds you close, pressing into you as deeply as he can get. You feel every inch of him, every fold in his skin as he pushes in - you know he’s not huge, but it’s been so long that to have something in you two nights in a row, you can feel your entrance ache a little, and inside a slight burn from the stretch. He groans, feeling your tight walls clench around him as you shift, wrapping your legs around him crossing your ankles behind his back. He pants against your ear, kissing the sensitive patch of skin right behind.  He’s encasing you in him, smothering you, the smell of him - he’d clearly showered after his show, the faint hint of neutrogena still clinging to him but his own scent, the mixture of his own musk and woodsy cologne layering over it - surrounds you. It altogether feels as intimate as the meditation did - just his and your bodies entangled together. He rests there, barely rocking into you, slowly, almost tenderly - before dragging himself out, rolling off.

“Gotta let you breathe, mama - wanna get deeper.” The concept seems impossible, but he’s pushing one of you legs to the side, rolling you slightly and clambering on top, straddling your other leg and kneeling down before he’s sinking in again. 

“Oh - shit, shit - how’re you, oh my god Elvis, that’s - I’ve never,” He knocks against your walls, blindly, until he hits the little bundle of nerves inside you causing all thoughts to leave your head, unable to form a sentence past whimpering. You prop yourself up with one hand, holding onto him with the other, it’s new for you - to be able to watch someone’s face as well as watch them push themselves into you. Being able to look at his face, his mouth open, little grunts and moans flowing as his eyes half-close in pleasure is mind-blowing; beyond your wildest imagination. 

“Oh baby, mama, you’re so - oh god, how are you still so tight, you ain’t been properly broken in yet, have you, fuck,” His hips are thrusting into you now, little jolts of pleasure running down your spine and you whine as he hushes you, rubbing a hand across your tummy, moving it up to grasp at your breast. He squeezes, on the edge of too hard, swiping his thumb across your nipple as he pinches it - causing you to clench down on him again, prompting a low groan out of his own mouth. He strokes down your torso, before resting his hand on you, it feels huge across your stomach, heavy and hot almost feeling like it’s burning through you. He slips his thumb lower, coaxing your clitoris out from hiding. 

“Want you to go with me, C’mon now baby - c’mon bun, I’m close,” He slams his hips into you, “Al-most there,” His fingers rub over you a little faster, and your nails of your supporting hand dig into your own hair, the other clutching his arm, as you tumble over the edge, shouting,

“Oh - oh - oh, god, Elvis - daddy, god, fuck that’s - oh god,” You hear him swear, pulling out just in time and spraying over your stomach, his fingers coming off of you, allowing you to come down, your body still trembling for a few moments.  

When you feel like you’re properly back on earth, a few minutes later, you’re still lying back, panting, while you hear him stand and  get himself wiped off.  Coming over to you to gently wipe away the mess on your tummy. He looks over at you, eyes still half-lidded, 

“C’mon ‘lil bunny, time to get back to work.” He pats your thighs and you shakily stand up. Despite his hurry he behaves almost unexpectedly gentlemanly and fetches your bag for you from beside the door. “Ain’t gonna make you put that torture device back on - you can do the leather if you want.” You frown, thinking for a moment - everyone will know what you’ve been up to then, but then you laugh to yourself a little - everyone already certainly knows. You pause before getting your underwear back on, slightly surprised at his speed, looking over at him; 

“You sure you won’t…don’t wanna go again?” He looks a little bashful for a second, 

“ ‘m not, I’m an ole man now baby.” Is all he says in reply, but it does the job in conveying what he meant. You look over at him - not sure that you’d describe him as old, he’s what… 38, 39? But you leave it be - dressing in the little leather coat/wrap dress. As you sit to roll your tights over your legs though he stops you, looking you over. “Bunny? Leave off the hose.” 

“Sure daddy, sure.” You obey, stripping them off again and pulling your boots onto your bare legs - undoubtedly you’ll get a blister but it’s worth it for the pleased way he looks at you and the kiss on the top of your head in reward for your obedience. You nip into the bathroom, trying to sort your hair and touch up your make-up, and by the time you’re ready to come out he’s gone. 

You walk out with your head up, and while you’re greeted with a series of smirks and some whispers you’re not as panicked about it as before, and you’re relieved he came out before you, positive that he took the brunt of any teasing. He winks at you when you pass him, dressed without his shirt now, but otherwise ignores you. This doesn’t upset you like before -  you’re content that only you and him truly know what’s just gone on and that your new, intimate, connection is safe and tucked away just for the two of you. It feels like you’ve been wrapped up in him for days and yet when you look over at the clock ticking away you realise you’ve only been in the air for an hour and a half. You feel a little like you’ve left a tiny part of yourself in that room with him, and that you should feel more vulnerable - more exposed than you do. Instead, you feel calm - your tension almost completely gone and with that you start to feel the possibility that you might actually be able to enjoy the next few hours. 

A couple of hours later, you’re dancing in the disco room - providing entertainment although you’re sure most of them, certainly Elvis, should be sleeping; unsure where the burst of energy from everyone has come from. But still, you’re dancing about with the other girls, playfully messing around, when he - from his sat position, lavender tinted glasses now on his nose, pulls you down to whisper in your ear,

“C’mon bunny, give me a little show - pick one of ‘em.” He gestures to the other girls bobbing around you. You look at him, mouth open, a little shocked at his bold request - so different from the sweet, slow, intimate behaviour from earlier. It’s not something you’re totally opposed to, but….in public? It’s as if he’s reading your mind; reassuring you -

“S’ok, baby, s’just us up here - just me and m’boys,” He pats you on the thigh, “Go on - there’s a good girl.” You stumble forward a little and make eye contact with Maggie - who was already looking over, clearly eager to share his attention. You look back over to Elvis, watching him grin at her, pleased that she seems so willing, “Just wanna watch you two kiss honey, nothing more - don’t gotta be that dirty but just… just a little. Just for me.” You nod, steeling yourself. But Maggie isn’t reluctant in any way, threading her fingers through yours to pull you closer. The tie of your leather dress brushes against her bare thigh, still in the bunny corset, and you feel her shudder against you as you step completely into her space. 

It’s a little strange, kissing her, different but simultaneously essentially the same. The startling difference was the … niceness of it, it was sweet and slow and gentle. Different from the lip biting and teasing of the men you’d kissed. You forget, for a moment, all the other people in the room, it’s narrowed to just the three of you although really you’re putting on a show for everyone, and you open your eyes - watching Elvis watch you. Despite Maggie’s lips on yours - her soft body still pressed against you - your focus is solely on him. His eyes are burning into you, and his legs are spread, thighs thick and inviting. You put a little more effort in, grasping her hair, rubbing down her back, and you listen to him huff a little chuckle when you jokingly squeeze her tail, and slot your leg between hers. You keep eye contact behind her head, watching him swallow, shifting a little to rub a hand over himself - completely unabashed at doing so in front of everyone. The sight of him sat there, looking like a sultan surveying his harem, blue eyes serious and intense, makes your eyes slip closed, and you put all your focus into the feeling of being watched and being kissed. You pull away, laughing as you both sway a little from the force of coming apart - you look over at him; 

“That alright Da-El?” He beams at you, 

“Perfect girls - so goddamn perfect.” He pats his thigh, the outline of his hardening cock almost completely visible, “Why don’t you come over here bunnies, let me have a better look.” You both do as he asks, giggling, as you tumble together onto his lap. It’s messier now, more fun, her hands scrabbling down your sides, and yours cupping her cheeks. You feel so hyper from it all that you almost feel drunk. His hand moves to support your lower back as you lean across to kiss Maggie again, giggling a little against her lips as she almost tips backwards until his arm catches her. 

“God, men fucking dream about this dolls - two little bunnies sat in their laps. But this is just for me ain’t it? Just for me?” His head is tipped back, but he swings it forward to look at you both - intensely, possessively. How a man could be possessive over two women he’d only known 48 hours, on a plane he didn’t even own, was mind-boggling - the sheer confidence required for that kind of thought overwhelming. Yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it, your own head nodding insistently to reassure him. Maggie looks askance at you, but still rapidly nods - the slight lie going unnoticed. His thigh flexes and where you’ve leant forward has hitched your tiny skirt up high enough that you’re now entirely sat feeling the soft fabric encasing his thigh underneath you rub against your bare legs. You can’t help but rock against it, just the tiniest amount. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you three, and instead of the shame you expected to feel, your stomach tightens in arousal at the sensation of being watched. He lets out a little moan, and it only makes you work harder, slipping your tongue into Maggie’s mouth as she pants against your lips. You feel Elvis’  hand slide up your body to the side of your ribcage, his thumb brushing your breast. You pull back, and he gasps as you stroke the outside of his soft trouser leg, gently rubbing the fabric over his cock. Elvis abruptly stands, pushing you both off. 

“Think there might be some important business I need to do in Hef’s office. Why don’t you two run along ahead - gonna need,” he looks sideways, jokingly, playing it up for your forgotten audience, “gonna need a couple of helping hands.” You give what can only be described as a polite smile, wondering what on earth has gotten into you that you were willing to display yourself like that in public. But for whatever reason you’re walking back into the bedroom again - this time following behind Maggie. You’re watching her from behind, and though you’ve seen her in uniform countless times you’re suddenly left wondering if her shape has always looked that inviting to grab - or if the teddy had always revealed so much of her ass. She seems far more at home in Hugh’s private quarters than you ever did the first time, and you realise suddenly that it’s very probable this isn’t her first time back here with a guest. The realisation shoots a burst of anxiety through you again, that you try to immediately brush away, that this whole thing really was just expected of you. 

Elvis shuts the door behind him when he comes in, immediately setting the mood lighting. Before resting his hand on your back and pulling you in for a quick kiss. It’s strange kissing him again now, you expect for some reason his lips to feel rough in comparison to Maggie’s, masculine instead of her soft femininity,  but as always his lips are full and buttery soft a perfect representation of the juxtaposition of his personality. He pulls away too soon and you find yourself leaning into him, eyes still closed, chasing the sensation, pouting when he laughs at you. 

“You good to go honey, or do you need a hand givin’ me a show?” You’re confused by what he’s offering, until you notice he’s holding out his hand two little pills sat in it. “Just vitamins baby,” You shake your head, you’re a little nervous but despite the environment you’re working in you’ve not taken anything yet, and the concept of it scares you more than your nerves. You’re surprised though when Maggie’s hand comes from nowhere, plucking one of them out of his palm and swallowing it dry. He beams at her, “Atta girl.” Maggie giggles at him, 

“Thank you daddy,” and he glances over at you, sideways, again before swallowing the leftover pill. 

He claps his hands, before suddenly, playfully, throwing you over his shoulder and onto the bed. You’re shocked at the display of physicality - not expecting it at all, and even more surprised when a moment later Maggie is thrown in much the same manner, bumping onto the bed and knocking into you. He settles himself up by the cushions, looking expectantly at the pair of you of you sprawled out and he gestures to the rest of the bed. He shifts, settling his hands on his open thighs, the hard outline of his cock almost completely visible through his pants. He clenches them into fists, like he’s trying not to touch. He looks, with his hair wild and his glasses on, so classically - typically Elvis that it makes your heart rate increase just watching him.

“Go on then, pretty little bunnies - wanna see you two - wanna see you havin’ fun. Give me a show.” It’s not a request but a command, and even if you’d wanted to (which you didn’t) you can’t do anything but obey. 

Maggie responds with a “Yes, sir,” as you move to situate yourself, kneeling at the bottom of the bed and she crawls over to meet you. This time she takes control, kissing you, her hands moving over the little leather coat-dress. It feels different having her lithe, nylon covered leg pushing in between yours instead of Elvis’ thick thigh. You wouldn’t go so far to say it’s better, but the friction against your thin panties and the way it allows your legs and thighs to stay fairly close, to clench and move is appealing. You can’t help but rock against her, clutching at her waist -  she laughs into your mouth, pulling your hair a little as she presses gentle kisses down your neck. You gasp, head falling back, before you pull away to lean forward again, catching her face between your hands, you rub against her, drawing her front back towards you - you giggle, whispering, 

“Mags’ I can’t - can’t believe we’re doing this...” Elvis chuckles behind you, clearly you weren’t as quiet as you thought, and that makes you laugh harder. It’s fun and flirty and you haven’t felt this chill about something in a while - the ability to just zone out and enjoy the sensations without having to worry about the future. You start to unbelt your dress, trying to move quickly - frantically, and as soon as you’ve got it unbuttoned Maggie is palming at you, pushing it down your shoulders. She moves forward a little more, and you lean back - letting Elvis get a better look at your newly uncovered skin. She moves her hand to brush against your panty-covered mound and you gasp. Your head falling forward onto her shoulder at the feel, so different from your own fingers or his thick digits, she moves her leg and you’re suddenly humping against nothing - you whine into the air, Elvis interrupting you as you try to pull her back.  

“Sl-slow down girls, get tha’ dress off and go a lil’ slower - there’s no rush. No need to rush now - just slow - slow it down.”  You nod trying to still your hips, gasping out, 

“Ok, ok, daddy - well - we’ll slow -ah- down,” and Maggie pushes you, both of you tumbling backwards. You roll for a moment, the silk of Maggie’s costume rubbing against your skin, the coolness a welcome relief to your burning skin. You suddenly catch, out of the corner of your eye, Elvis shifting, his arm moving at a rapid pace and you don’t know why, considering what you’re currently doing, you’re shocked to realise he has his cock out, that he’s touching himself watching you. You accidentally make eye contact, and you’re taken aback by the look on his face, his lip curling in pleasure. To be watched with such burning desire is shocking, and would be enough to make you shy had you not had this overwhelming sexual confidence come over you from somewhere. You absently think that you should probably help Maggie out of her corset, the pufftail isn’t comfortable to lie in and she was probably wishing for more breathability right now, but before you can offer she’s stroking a finger down you and all thoughts fly out of your head. She looks up at Elvis, questioning something that you can’t hear through your single-minded tunnel vision and hearing, but you manage to catch his reply; 

“No - no, just - just, just over top, honey, not - no, that’s just for me.” And she resumes to touching you over the top of the growing dampness of your panties, you groan at the sheer level of objectification; at being spoken about as if you were just there for his amusement, that you were his. Maggie renews her efforts though, and her fingers quickly, even over the soft cotton fabric of your underwear, find the spot to make you squirm, hips bucking into her. She soothes you, and you wonder if you should be reciprocating in some way but as her delicate fingers push the tiniest fold of fabric into you, you’re lost clutching at the fur throw, the slight friction easing as it gathers up your slick. She moves her finger to circle around your clit, bunching the fabric between her thumb and fingers and rubbing it against you. You somehow manage to blink open your eyes, leaning your head all the way back to look at Elvis; his entire focus is on what’s happening between your legs - it causes a shudder to run through you, and your stomach tightens as you feel your legs start to cramp; 

“Go on baby, hold it for me, hold it - don’t - want you to keep her just there for me - that’s it. Stop stop, that’s just for me.” She pulls her hand away and your back arches as whine, so close to the edge. 

He leans in gripping Maggie’s neck to kiss her and you can hear the wet smack of their lips together, he pulls back, briefly “Don’t worry, honey, don't wanna make you jealous…just wanna say thank you for such a lovely show - that’s alright isn’t it?” You can’t do anything but agree and he returns to her, hands on her neck and head to hold her in place. Watching it up close you can understand why he wanted to watch himself, you wonder if that’s what you look like with him too; all teeth and tongue and lips. You squirm, still feeling the possibility of your orgasm. 

“Now go on, there’s a good girl, run along now, thank you darling - You gonna be alright? You want me to get one of the boys to uh, see to ya properly?” She shakes her head, almost fondly as if laughing that she might need his help to find a willing partner.  “Well - You tell ‘em I said it’s ok.” He sends her on her way like he’s pimping her out for the night, you hate how it makes your core throb a little, and you can’t help but glow at being the very obviously chosen one; not just one night but two in a row. Maggie looks back at you, still lying on the fur throw, winks and leaves - sauntering through the door. When she’s gone Elvis turns back to you, rubbing sweeping circles on your stomach,

“Just wanna get you goin’ again for me,” His hand starts to trail down, and you don’t know what’s come over you but you put your own out - grasping his wrist to stop him wanting him to know;

“Daddy, I’ve never - that was my first time with,” He laughs, 

“Oh, honey, I know, I know. Did you like it?” You nod, and he laughs again, “I’ll bring my camera next time baby, can’t believe Hef’s not got one installed in here somewhere. What a waste.” He tries to move but you hold his hand where it is, causing him to look calculatingly over you, one eyebrow slightly raised. “Was there something you wanted?” 

“I…” You squirm under the pressure of his gaze and the tone of his voice. 

“C’mon bunny, tell me what you want.” You nod, a bit nervous - but you had stopped his hand for a reason. 

“Could you, would you… you know.” He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face when he responds, 

“No, sorry, I don’t.” You whine,

“Ugh - would you, with your tongue?” 

“Ohh - you want me to go back down on you? Have another taste of that sweet yittle bunny cunt?” You wriggle at his harsh wording mixed with his babying tone, but you frantically nod. He grins, taking his glasses off and throwing them somewhere on the bed.

“Well ain’t today just my lucky day.” He manhandles you into a better position, ripping your underwear off, pushing you against the cushions and shoving one underneath your hips -  moving to situate himself between your thighs. He wiggles like a cartoon about to be served at a restaurant - almost certainly to make you laugh and you comply, nervously giggling, mind preoccupied with hoping that you taste alright now that you’ve asked for it. He spreads you open, kissing your inner thigh before moving closer to your core, and you can feel yourself pulse with anticipation.

He tentatively licks you, just a gentle, wet stripe and you immediately gasp - eyes flying wide open, startled at how sensitive you already felt. Although it shouldn’t come as any surprise, you’d been slick and swollen since you’d fucked earlier, and a bit sore since last night. He flattens his tongue, spreading your folds, and moves his fingers in to keep you spread open. Your hips buck of their own accord when he wets his lips and blows cold air onto you, watching you squirm and clench in response. You can feel his smile before he concentrates again his tongue lapping at your entrance. Your legs come up, needing more support to better grind onto him and your hands move down to grip his hair, thumbs digging into the side of his face, his sideburns, while your fingers find purchase in his long strands, gently holding him in place. He renews his efforts, flicking his tongue in your inner folds and he moves one of his hands to brace your stomach down as he moves to lick directly over your clit - your hips thrusting up enough in response for you to understand the necessity of his hand holding you down. You didn’t realise you could become addicted to the feel of something so quickly, but you’re not sure you’re going to be able to live without someone, preferably him, doing this to you regularly. The warm wet pressure builds, and on top of where you were already on the edge it’s quickly building to be almost too much. He pulls back just as you think you’re about to go over the edge and you groan, but he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick. 

“Oh god - is that, is that me on you?” He grins, 

“Sure is baby, sweetest honey from my honey bun-bun.” He licks his lips, and you groan again, your tummy flipping from how close you still feel, 

“Elvis - Daddy - need you, need more,” He leans back down, whispering, crooning in babytalk to your pussy; 

“Oh baby, baby, poor little, yittle, baby bunny - daddy’s gonna take real good care of you now, no more games baby, no that’s right, gonna get you right there,” He presses his lips to your clit kissing it, nose buried in you. Your entire focus is on the sensations as he moves down to spear his tongue into you, so different from a finger or cock and you almost choke from the force of the puff of air you exhale, as he curls it just so; you didn’t even know it was possible to do that and you wonder how much practice at this he really has. 

You can’t bear to look down at him anymore, the sight of his long lashes brushing against you, reminding you of who it was between your legs, watching you almost too much and you throw your head back, eyes closing as he thrusts his tongue in and out. He moves to add his thumb in, rubbing over your clit as his tongue continues to do its job, soothingly licking where you’re sore around the entrance to your hole. Your stomach tightens as he maintains a steady pace and you clench around him, thighs coming to rest on either side of his head, as you rock on his tongue and fingers. It’s not long, only moments when the pressure and movement get you there, body jumping as you crest over the wave of your orgasm. He licks you through it, and it means you just keep going. It’s overwhelming, and not something you’ve experienced before, the extended shaking and shuddering as you jolt around, jumping with every fizzle of pleasure. Finally, he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again, panting as you force your body to relax. 

A minute or so later you’re able to sit up a little more, opening your eyes properly again. You look over at Elvis and he’s got his cock in his hand - you’re tired but you feel like you have to show him some kind of appreciation for the best orgasm of your life so you lean up on your elbows, reaching a hand down to join his, you pump it once or twice before whispering to him,

“Let me Daddy,” and you sink your mouth down onto him. He gasps in surprise swearing

“Lord hav- oh god baby, bunny, oh shit.” as you hum around him, swallowing. He was clearly already very close and it only takes a couple of moments in the hot, wet, pressure of your mouth and throat before he’s warning you, 

“Gonna, it’s, I’m gonna go off baby, it’s - I’m close, real fu-cking close.” And with that he thrusts once, twice, while you hollow your cheeks - sucking down hard and that’s all it takes for him to be spurting into your mouth. You flinch, surprised, despite his warning, at the speed the taste unexpected, but still you swallow it down. “Fuck - fuck, thank you bunny, thank you.” He’s sweet, offering more gratitude than you’ve ever received from a man. You kiss his tip as you pull away and once again fall onto your back. You lie back, panting, and he joins you, curling around you - cuddling into you for the first time since you started this whole thing. You roll into him, enjoying being cradled in his thick arms, trying to comprehend the events of the past forty eight hours and how you’re going to be returning back to your normal life in only another few hours, wondering what Maggie chose to do, when he starts to talk, fingers tracing circles on your arms. 

“You know - my daddy’s - I got ‘im buyin’ me my own jet.” Your brow furrows a little, unsure where he’s going with this - “I uh, I - you’ll still have a cute little outfit, I like - like to dress ma girls up but, but I promise it’ll be … stretchy and uh, I won’t - I won’t assume anything but - but I  sure would like it if you, you would come on board with me?” He perhaps should have stopped there but he keeps talking, “It also - it would mean more time together, bunny, fewer girls around. Well…fewer in uniform anyway.” You grimace a little - so what is he suggesting; you be his on call plane whore? You hate that you want it, hate that you’re so desperate for him, in any way you can have him - to whatever capacity he’s available that you’re going to agree. 

“Of course - that would, that would be a dream come true Elvis, I would love to,” You’re not entirely stupid though. You smile at him, agreeing but not believing - this happens all the time in the clubs too; men promising things that never materialise - the drunker they get the more outlandish the claims; cars, houses, vacations, jobs. You know of too many girls who quit because they were promised a job as someone’s secretary only for the role to never materialise to put too much stock into his question. Besides, you still have two more flights with Elvis already in Big Bunny’s calendar - you were sure there’s more than enough time for him to make the offer again if he was really serious. 

“Wha-what’s your schedule like?… You got a boyfriend?” You pause, uncertain where this is going, surely these were questions that should have been asked yesterday? You suddenly realise that you know he’s seeing someone if only from the overheard phone-call but that you also had no idea if you were turning into the other woman or something. Or if you were just a girl to pass the time with. 

“I - uh, no. No, no-one. I’m not, we’re kept quite busy…” He frowns, kissing the top of your shoulder,

“Would you, you could come watch a show if you, I’ll get tickets for you and the girls if you want?” You smile, 

“That would be lovely, thank you -” He continues, 

“You could come a little earlier if you wanted, I’m playing somewhere new tomorrow, well - uh,” he looks over at the clock, grimacing, “Today. So I gotta check the sound and things, you could come to the rehearsal? I want you there baby,” You register some shock at his last words but nod, agreeing, it sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime and you go to say it but you suddenly realise, from the little puffing breaths on your shoulder he’s fallen asleep practically mid-sentence. You look around for the clock, before you, with some wonder, discover there’s still ninety minutes left of the flight and close your own eyes too. The others can do the stewarding, you’re doing the main job - keeping Elvis happy. 

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hi, can I have some fluff/comfort with a bit of angst please? I have a very bad memory and am quite an anxious person. Sometimes (quite often) not remembering something makes me paranoic. I would really love to get some comfort from a Yautja (male or female, can be a specific like Gawtin or Vic'tao). Thanks!

Remembrance

Pairing: Gawtin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3688

Summary: No matter what you do, you lose something. A pencil you just had eyes on. It's gone. You get up to eat and fill up your bottles. The moment you step out of the room, the thought has been plucked from your mind. Beyond everything, you are growing with frustration. It's starting to pile up.

Author Note: I'm sooooo sorry this took so long to get to. Work has pushed my hours past what I want lately (not that I'm complaining about hours, never). It just leaves with no energy or time to write or have freetime. I will be keeping my asks closed for a little longer. I have a couple personal projects I need to finish first.

P.s. Thank you so much for letting me do Gawtin. I love writing about her!

Masterlist

Ao3

This is not beta read, sorry!

One step into the kitchen and the thought on your mind was plucked out. All you could do was staring blankly at the wooden floors. Thoughts were running wild inside of your brain. What were you doing? There was a reason you had come to kitchen. What was it? You chewed at your bottom and tasted blood. Crap, you had torn open the newly scabbed wound.

Your fingers started to twitch, buzzing with energy. With a disappointed shake of your head, you pivoted back around and marched back towards the extra bedroom. Your art room. Gawtin had gifted it to you when the supplies she had been collecting were piling up. You had felt bad for taking up more of her space in her own home. Gawtin wouldn’t let that pass though, stating this was your space as much as hers. All she wants in ‘return’ was to watch you work sometimes.

Gawtin liked to reference watching T.V. on earth. You retorted with the fact it must be a boring show to observe. She never complained. The amazement in her eyes at each stroke of your pencil or brush made you blush.

Art colorful and bland covered the walls. Some painted, others sketches. The last little bit were colored with pencils. That’s a skill you still struggled and didn’t like to put up those finished ones yet. They weren’t up to your standards.

At this point, you had even forgotten that you had forgotten what you were originally doing before leaving here. You sat heavily down in your chair once more and set down your water bottle. It squeaked underneath your weight but stayed sturdy. Another present from Gawtin, the goddess herself.

Said yautja had left earlier, closely after the morning sun had breached the horizon. Rosy, soft fingers spreading out on the yellow-blue sky. Yautja Prime vastly different than earth. Even when the sun fell below and hid away for countless hours, the forest produced a sweating heat during this season. You’ve come to feel a frustrated anger for the hot season. You weren’t built for this weather, no matter where you lived before.

Being human could have it perks out in the universe. When it came to adapting, you did that well. A biting cold, a jacket would do you good. This heat though. A swim in the lake nearby could cool you, if it wasn’t for your ankles getting bitten off a danger. Come to Yautja Prime where everything wanted to kill you and more!

Don’t kid yourself though. Yautja Prime was extraordinary in its own way. It’s not as diverse to biomes as earth. It holds a constant warm climate over everyone, gripping it in a tight grasp. The humidity was horrible. You’ve taken a trip to Hawaii before. This didn’t compare to that. In the end you wouldn’t trade being here than being back on your planet.

Your stomach growled and twisted. Hungry? How were you hungry? When was the-you were going to the kitchen for food! And to fill up on your water bottle. How in the world were you alive at this point with forgetting things like that? Important things as well.

Some days you wondered if Gawtin truly likes you or a small part of her thundering heart pities you. Maybe she thinks of you like Qui? Small, frail, weak. Nothing more, just to protect you from the harsh world you live in. Well, now it was the universe. You shook your head though to clear those thoughts and stood up from the chair. The once discard bottle returned your hand.

The kitchen was midsize. It fit well in Gawtin’s dwelling. Not too big nor too small. A portion had been changed to fit for more variety for yourself. You smiled at the reminder of how much she loved you before going to the fridge for water.

Unlike Gawtin herself, you’re unable to drink straight from the spring nearby. You learned that the first few days you were here. Never. Again. That was one day you wished to perish to the depths of hell and never come back. Worst of all, it was embarrassing. Right in front of Gawtin. But like the steady Yautja she is, she didn’t waver. She just fretted over you, questioning what had happened. One day you hate to recall.

So, Gawtin retrieved a water purifier just for you. It’s design similar to those back home. Praise the lord. You filled up the metal bottle you had and scanned through the fridge. The goddess herself hadn’t let you know when she would return. It couldn’t be long since she left Qui for a nap. She trusted you to care for the child but knew it could overwhelm you at points. God, you loved that alien so much.

The door was closed with your hip once an assortment of berries in a bowl had been chosen. Nothing poisonous, that you’ve learned of yet. You strolled back towards the art room when you heard the front door slide open.

Instinctually, you twirled around to face the known form at the door. There, in all of her glory, stood Gawtin. Not a thing was out of place on her. Perfect, as always. “Hey, love!” you greeted and changed your path to move towards her. Said alien moved into the dwelling and spread her out.

If you were Yautja, you would take offence at the dominate display. You weren’t though. You bounded over to her and embraced her. Gawtin returned not a second later the action and purred. “It is good to see you, artful one,” she said, voice vibrating with her purrs. She gave one last squeeze then released you. “Hmm, those a good choice for a snack.”

That sparked an idea inside of you cranum. You plucked one of the berries from the bowl and held it up to her. With a skill that takes years to master, she pinches the round fruit from your hands and eats it. How she is able to do that? You have no clue.

.

The pencil. Gone. Poof! Where had it gone? One moment it was in your hands. The next, gone from sight and mind. You had just set it down. It had to be right here, on your desk. You had set it down for one second to grab something else. Now it was gone. A groan vibrated your ribcage as you slid down awkwardly in the comfortable chair.

Why does this happen to you? It keeps happening too. One day… it’s going to escalate. One day, it’s going to be a damn pencil. The next, the child. Said child was more than happy on his spot next to you.

Similar to a cat, you created a blanket nest he loves to curl up in and watch you. Those eyes, just like his father, observed every move made. Maybe one day, he’ll have a little artistic side like yourself. It’ll be overpowered by his mother’s side of hunting and learning to survive. But one day, you would love to see what can create with his hands.

Qui clicked something, small mandibles tapping one another. This drew your attention fully down to him, painting, food, and water discarded. “Wassup, kiddo?” you questioned. He was you responsibility for the moment. His mother placed that into your hands to care for him. Plus, a tiny part of your brain saw him as your own kid. You won’t bring that up, ever. You don’t want to confuse or ruin the little family you had going on here.

All he did in response was garble baby talk at you. You snorted with a shake of your head, unable to understand a lick of what he had said. Almost two years of learning of Yautja for yourself and it did nothing to save you in this situation. “Okay then. Have you seen my pencil though? It has decided to disappear.”

Those big eyes of his stare deep into your soul. Hmm, right. No translator either for him. He has listened to you and Gawtin speak in English, but he first needs to learn Yautja. You made motion with your hands as if you were drawing or writing. This seemed to connect the dots inside of his head. Qui-oky brough up a stubby hand to the side of his head and patted. This confused you. Well, you should save, you must’ve puzzled the child with the motion.

When you seemed to not understand him, he reinforced the patting then pointed past you, by your head. Dumbfounded, you turned to see what Qui was motioning towards. As you turned, he screeched with frustration. Your head whipped back down to him, brows heavily furrowed. What in the world?! You’ve only heard him make that noise twice.

With a grumble, the kid stood up on wobbly legs and stumbled over to you. His tiny hands grasped at the clothing on your legs and pulled. It took you a moment to realize he wanted up. You helped him in your lap. Qui unsteadily stood up and tugged on something tucked on top of your ear. That’s when it hit you, hard.

The pencil. It was right there. The whole time. Your lips pressed together as you chewed at the inside of your cheek. With all of your efforts, you were able to stop tears from springing to life.

Qui held the pencil in front of you with a knowing look that you easily read: ‘I was trying to tell you this whole time’. Out of the years of your life, this was one of the most embarrassing times you have ever experienced. A heavy, hot blush raced up from your neck, all the way to the tips of you ears. “Th-thanks, Qui,” you mumbled and grasped the pencil.

Once he believed you could be left with the pencil, he carefully clambered down. The small Yautja returned to his blanket bed and pulled a pelt over him.

It left you stumbling about with your trembling emotions. In the moment, all you could do was peer at the piece of wood and graphite in your shaking hand. How could you fail so hard with simple tasks? Every. Single. Day.

Forgetting to eat. A normal person wouldn’t do that. Or drinking. How could anyone forget to do that? You. You could. An object gets placed down, for just a second and its lost to the voids of the universe. Like this damn pencil. But that’s not all you’ve lost and found – or not. Canvases, brushes, paint, books, etc. The list could go on and on and on.

Your bottom lip wobble. Your eyes burned. No! You weren’t going to cry. You’re stronger than that. Get over it. Any words of encouragement you gave to yourself wasn’t working. With a push harder than you meant to you, you stood up from your chair and marched out of the room. Moving was good. It helped you work out buzzing nerves.

In most cases.

Not this time.

It felt like moving just made your shaking worse. Why was it so hard to remember things? Such a simple thing part of human life and you can fucking do that. And the kid. You fully heartily knew he didn’t mean any harm but it pushed you over the edge.

All of this was piling over the course the day. Probably the course of the month. This had been getting worse lately. For what reason, you had no clue. It kept nagging at you each time you had remembered what had been forgotten. Such a failure. What was Gawtin thinking when she had to help or see you like this? Forgetting easy things around the house. A cup left in the wrong place. A pelt tucked away somewhere you never had put it.

The front door slides open. Your pacing – one creating a hole into the ground – stopped at the sound. Your head whipped to find the goddess in green standing in the doorway. Those vibrant purple eyes already locked onto the moment she was revealed. Your heart stuttered at the sight of her, haloed by the bright, harsh sun that beats down on this planet.

Her predatory eyes softened. It was like she could read your mind and emotions. She knew what was happening before she even saw you. Her long bottom mandibles clicked against one another, nothing of words. “Tressure.” You don’t know what happened but you flinched as if Gawtin had raised a threatening paw. Your shoulders drew up, face twisted with fear. Why? You had no answer.

A sound you’ve never made heard her make pierced through the tense air. She had whined. Not even when the two of you had sex, has she ever made that noise. You kept that pathetic position, unable to look your lover in the eye. How could you? You were a failure at the most easiest things that you human. Can’t do anything right with your life.

“I’m sorry,” you squeaked and played with the hem of your shirt. It was pointless to hold back a dam worth of tears. The walls crumbling underneath the weight. Tears poured down your face and dropped onto the tile floor. “I’m sorry.” It’s all you could say.

The air shifted with movement. Carefully placed steps stalked their way over to you before stopping right in front of you. There was no other person besides her.

Pads of well worn fingers softly scrapped against the skin of your cheek. You fought against her, not wanting her to see the shame and embarrassment that painted your face. Gawtin always won.

With your eyes still closed -not daring to look her in the eye, you easily felt that heavy, piercing gaze settled on you. The course scaled on her thumb grazed the length of your cheek bone. It felt like it slowly softening you up, coaxing you to open up for the goddess.

And it was working.

“My artist, look at me,” she gently demanded of you. The last of your resistance flowed from your veins, vanished with her words. Kind eyes filled with love and concern peered closely at you. Your heart and breath quickening at first. A dreadful fear filling your body from head to toe. An unreasonable reaction to your goddess in green.

“There you are. What is the matter?” she questioned, usually gruff voice quieted with her demeanor. Your eyes darted away, finding anything and everything to look at. Gawtin’s other massive paw joined on the other side of your face. You sagged into the feeling, relishing in the comfort that settled into your bones. It fought against the terror in your veins. “My ooman, I need you to tell me your problems. I will requifiy them.”

By the grace of god, you loved her so fucking much. Her words soothed over you like a warm shower, washing away every bad feeling inside of you. “I-I,” you take a deep breath in, hold it, then released it. “I can’t do anything right,” you finally relented, letting your greatest fault be known to her. Not that she didn’t know already.

This took the Yautja by surprise. She jerked her head back, trinkets and jewelry attached to her tresses slapping against her back and chest. Her mandibles spread out in displeasure. Then, Gawtin started to push at you, crowding you with her massive body towering over you. Soon, your back met the wall, pressed up against with some of Gawtin’s weight.

“No.” Stern. Firm. There was no arguing with the tone she used. One, a mother would use on their child. “Do. Not. Say. That.”

Heartbreak. Gawtin felt a whirlwind of emotions sweep through her body. Yet, her main focus was settled on you. Always on you. She desperately needed to know why you were thinking that way. What had happened while she was gone and fix it. She couldn’t bare to see you like this, broken and upset.

You kept your mouth shut, closed without a sound. Your eyes set on her only. It was fear that paralyzed you once more but not because of her. Never because of her. You don’t know why you were scared but it held you in a tight grip, unable to move or make a noise. It left you trembling in her hold, pressed against the cool wall.

“Why do you think that?” First, assess the situation. Figure out the roots of the problem and work your way up. It broke her mighty heart to see you like this, shaking worse than a leaf. You bit at your bottom lip, kneading it between dull teeth. “You know you can tell me anything, tressure.”

From the bottom of your heart, you desperately knew that. All the time. She was here for you. Caring and keeping an eye on you. “I… things. I can’t remember where I put things. I set it down and poof, it’s gone forever. Why do you keep me around if I can-“ a course palm settled over your lips, silencing you from saying anymore.

“I bear my heart to you,” she said and ended with your name. That caught your attention. She rarely says it. It was always terms of endearment or others. “I adore having you around. It feels lonely, empty in my heart when you are not nearby. I ache for your presence. Do you understand?” Gawtin removed her hand from your mouth to let you speak.

With a drop of hesitance entering your veins, you dipped your head. “That is my answer. You’re my answer to everything, artful one. You color my life with your love, making me realize that I need you. Forever.” Your bottom lip wobbled again, fresh tears filling your eyes. Her words… They way she spoke. How can she just say that?

“Would you like for me to make an appointment for a healer? They could find solutions to the reason on why you forget so much. And, my ooman, it is okay to forget things. Please don’t get frustrated with yourself. Come to me and we can figure it out. Together.” Gawtin backed off, relenting the pressure that pressed you into the wall. “It is okay to be okay.”

And that’s all you needed to hear.

Tears flowed freely down the length of your cheeks before dropping down to the floor. Gawtin used her thumbs to wipe away a majority of the salty water. “What would you like to do, artful one,” she questioned, voice continuing to low and soft. It felt like it was a brush soothing over the shell of your ear.

“I really want to cuddle, right now,” you answered, eyes darting to the side.

Gawtin dipped her head, thick tresses swaying with the movement. “We can more than happily do that. Let me grab Qui. Then we can cuddle out on the couch,” Gawtin explained and pulled almost fully away from you. Her warmth stolen by the goddess herself.

Your eyes widened. The kid. Qui! Shit, you’ve… forgotten. You are supposed to be watching over him, like a parent. How co- Gawtin nuzzled her temple against yours. Without words, she knew what you needed at the moment. All she needed to do was read your face and bring you from that mindset once more. She grabs at one of your hands and engulfs it with her own.

The tension that clawed through your shoulders was released, falling away like rain. Gawtin began to purr and kissed with her mandibles folded in on the back of your hand. “Qui-oky?” Then she clicked something in Yautja at the child.

Pitter-patter of bare feet slapped against the wooden floors. At the sound, an amused smile graced your chewed lips. Qui appeared in the doorway. Without stopping, he ran all the way to his mother and latched onto her leg. Yautja tumbled from his small mandibles. To you, it sounded all like baby talk. Not a word understood with yourself.

Gawtin bent down, scoop the child off of the ground, and held him in her arms. Qui leaned over to you and plucked something tucked on top of your ear. It was your pencil. He held it to you, in a similar manner compared to earlier. You pressed your lips together and took it back. “Thanks, kiddo.” Your usually soft voice towards him had turned dead. Just another reminder on how you couldn’t function like a normal person.

Out of nowhere, Gawtin grasped the pencil from him and tucked it into a pouch on her clothe belt. Her hand returned to swallow yours and tugged at you to follow her. Without complaint, you shadowed behind the behemoth that she is.

The three of you had settled on the expansive couch. Gawtin was the only one truly sitting on it. Qui had taken his spot between the two of you. You had taken roost on one of her thick, muscular thighs. Your legs straddling her own. You had snuggled underneath her chin, content with the warmth that radiated off of her heavily.

Qui-oky chose to bury himself on the same side as you into Gawtin’s side. She wouldn’t allow you to move either. The two of you stuck against her like this. Not that you were complaining.

A course finger ran up to the base of your skull before threading into your hair. You instantly sagged against her, eyes hooded over. “Good ooman,” she purred softly and scratched at your scalp carefully. Mmmm, that’s the spot. You knew she had to be mentally saying you’re so easy to mess with.

She kept you against her for an unknown amount of time. Nothing else mattered besides your little family. Each one of you had your issues, more than others. None of that mattered to any of you. Just the love that flowed in each of your veins and gulfed everyone.

You may have trouble remembering things. Misplaced items or something just disappearing out of thin air. What you will never forget is the fact that Gawtin and Qui love you with all of their hearts and more.

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has It's Thorns - Part Three

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc (Talia)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, betrayal.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. Not that it is any easier for the soulmate in question. Thus is the fate for Ricky and Talia. Sooner or later, however, life is bound to collide, but what will happen when it does?

author’s note: Unbetaed, and oh the drama.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 Tags are open, feel free to ask to be added.

~~

It was a blur, between what happened in the VIP and the concert, but they were pulled back afterwards to the greenroom right after. She didn’t know if usually the guys would have hung around more like she’d sometimes seen them do, or if the revelation during the VIP had changed everything for the night, but she was willing to bet it was the latter, but she was pulled along, unwillingly, with her bestfriends, towards the greenroom where the band was. Where Ricky was. Where Vinny was.

Ava was holding her hand in a grip that threatened to rip her fingers off.

Talia knew she was nervous, probably for more than one reason, ever since they’d left VIP before the concert started, even over the music, between each song, every moment, every chance she got.. Even when Talia told her not to, even when the boys had told her not to.. Ava had tried to apologize. Apologize for meeting her soulmate. Apologize for finding her soulmate when they were here for Talia, when they were here for Ricky, when Talia had pointed out time and time again, Ricky didn’t want her. He was with someone else.

Before they came to the greenroom though, she’d stopped Ava, and made her turn to her, held her face in her hands,

“Look at me, Vinny is your soulmate. This is your night, be happy, okay? I am. I am so happy for you.”

Her heart was being torn out, but she was happy. She was fucking happy to see her friend finally happy to have found her soulmate. She’d been dreaming about this forever, and Vinny, he was a cheeky fucker from his streams, even if that was all she knew of him. Who knew what he was really like, she hoped he’d look after her girl, if not she’d stomp him.

Talia sighed as Ava wrapped her arms around her in a bone crushing hug, sighing heavily,

“You know, I’m never going to like Ricky’s girlfriend right? Even if she turns out to be the nicest person in the world. She is enemy number one, soulmate stealer, best friend prerogative, you can’t tell me know I will not hear it, so shut up and not another word out of you this time Missy.”

Her laughter was smothered by Ava’s arms crushing her a little more as she squeezed her a little tighter as she spoke.

“Far as I’m concerned, she's a soulmate stealing hussy, end of story.”

Talia didn’t know what she had done in her life to have friends like hers, but she must have done something practically saintly. Before she knew it, she had Kyle and Jordan wrapping their arms around her too, and the four of them were all squished together in a knot of limbs. Of course, this would be the absolutely perfect moment for the greenroom door to open with Vinny, looking like a sweaty mess from the show, with his wild hair, smeared black paint all over him. His grin was so bright as he saw them,

“Well this looks like a party, can I get in on it?”

“Oh, hell no, I’m not getting all that black paint all over me buddy. I’ll stick to my boyfriend.”

Kyle laughed as he let go of the girls as he leaned back into Jordan’s arms however, but smirking,

“Sure Ava might not mind though.”

“Shut up.”

Ava in question blushed as she elbowed Kyle in the stomach earning a massive grunt from him and a laugh from Talia as she hung back adjusting her jacket, a little nervously as she looked at the way Vinny was looking right to Ava before they made their way in. Kyle and Jordan had already tried to get out of joining them in the greenroom, offering to take an uber back and just let the girls stay, but Talia had threatened both of them outright, that if they abandoned her here with Ava alone, she’d tattoo both their foreheads in their sleep. She didn’t want to leave Ava alone, but she was not about to be left awkwardly in Ricky proximity either, so they were here, even if she had to hold them hostage with threat of permanent inked embarrassing tattoos.

Ricky smiled as the new people came in following Vinny, not that surprised that his soulmate’s friends stuck around. He was going to bag on him that his soulmate was a fan forever now, the amount of times they’d joked about dating fans before and now here they were, his soulmate, sucker.

He remembered the day he’d helped Vinny design his personal logo for his site using his soulmate tattoo as inspiration. The idea had been that Vinny could use it to, well, not trick people, but after years of being in the band himself and having to deal with people trying to pass them off as his soulmate, Ricky knew how that felt. With people thinking the logo that Ricky had designed was Vinny’s mark, and had some elements enough that some people actually assumed that got quick almost glances, it made weeding out those faking soulmate tattoos so much easier.

Ava having Vinny’s real soulmate mark was beyond obvious. She was the first person that had ever turned up with the original mark, the only person.

Once they were all in the greenroom, Vinny was moving to sit with Ava, she was smiling, looking just amazed at the sight of him, and it made Talia smile. Sighing, she moved over to the side of the room trying to keep her distance from where Ricky was as she saw his girlfriend come in and hand him a bottle of water. The other guys were here too, Chris, Justin, Ryan, all hanging out, cleaning up.. Taking their makeup off while everyone was talking back and forth.

“I can’t believe I’ve finally found you.”

Vinny grinning as he leaned closer to Ava. Justin threw him some wipes to get him started on removing the black paint already, Vinny probably had a process.. Ava grabbed for them before Vinny did, and started cleaning from one of his arms. Probably took forever to get all of that off with just the wipes, he probably wasn’t cleaning up properly just to stay here with Ava. It hurt, knowing he was going out of his way to stay with her. She was doing everything she could not to look towards Ricky.

“I’m sorry it took so long, might have happened sooner, we used to come to so many concerts, stopped years ago when Talia stopped wanting to meet Ricky, I mean it's kind of fate right, best friend soulmates, me with you, her with him.”

Her giggle was silly, and Talia prayed the others weren’t listening, that too many people were talking for anyone to be paying attention, but she wasn’t so lucky. Vinny and Ava were the star attraction in the room, the prize of the night, and everyone was noticing, and Ricky scoffed as his girlfriend glanced around, before her gaze falling on Talia, obviously assuming, correctly, that Ava meant her, and glared.

“Ava, no offence,  but that is ridiculous, I can’t have two soulmates. Grace here is my soulmate.”

Squeezing his girlfriend to his side with a smile.

With that, there is sort of an awkward quiet in the room, Talia feeling eyes drawn to her, and she just wanted to disappear. The eyes, drawn right to her neck, and she desperately wished she hadn’t worn her hair pulled back today, leaving her rose tattoo soulmate tattoo so clearly visible for everyone to see in the room. She turned her head to try and keep people from staring at her, staring at it. Not that it wasn’t clearly visible on another person in the room, another two people it would seem.. She could clearly see the same tattoo on Ricky’s girlfriend’s neck too. Grace.

The soulmate stealing hussy, as Ava considered her.

After a few moments, Vinny let out an awkward little chuckle, grabbing at another makeup wipe from the packet that Justin had given him.

“You know, I saw something a couple weeks ago, really odd, and boy did it freak me out because I had no idea whether I should even say anything.. I mean.. Plenty of people have normal relationships without any soulmate marks you know. But I mean, with everything happening tonight I figure it’s pretty much a sign right, so here we go-”

While it looked like he was going to use the wipe on his own makeup, instead he reached and was wiping it across the tattoo on Grace’s neck.

“Hey!”

He swiped quickly and she tried to pull away but it was too late, the image on her skin was starting to smudge, whatever she used to seal the image could only work so long, and had probably been working for hours possibly. Oh shit.

“Gracie?”

Rick was looking at his girlfriend, confused, before tension came off of him in waves as she pushed Vin back, and Ava pulled him out of her way, her arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, practically protecting him from her onslaught as she shoved him.

“Hey, don’t push him, bitch!”

“Ava, don’t!”

Grace turned to glare again at Talia the moment she spoke up. She’d done so without thinking, not wanting Ava to get in the middle of this mess, not wanting her friend to get involved with whatever was going to happen between Ricky and his girlfriend. It was bad enough that she’d be exposed, Talia hadn’t known she’d been faking being his soulmate. All she’d known was that they’d been dating, Ricky had never said anything about their soulmate status on his socials with the band, not that she followed him as intensely as she used to, it was too painful. The thought that she’d been tricking him this whole time. That was horrible.

“Ava, don’t!, please, like I’m the only person that's faked being a soulmate, bet you are too, go on.”

Grabbing another of the wipes she threw it at Talia,

“Go on, use it.”

Talia steeled herself, she was used to people treating her like crap because of her soulmate tattoo, thinking it was fake, thinking she was insane in assuming that her soulmate was Ricky Olson. Sure, her parents had never questioned what her soulmate tattoo was, just that she was so sure who it was leading it to. This wasn’t the first time she’d been challenged to prove that it was a real mark, and she hadn’t faked it when she first turned eighteen.

“Fine. How long did you think you could pull this off for anyway? I mean, you’ve been at this for, what, years, right? And it’s still fake? Why not just get a real tattoo and not get caught out?”

Talia lifted the wipe to her neck and viciously wiped at her skin and not only did the mark not smudge, but her own skin, stung a little from how hard she’d rubbed at the mark, and she flinched,

“Careful, T, don’t hurt yourself.”

Kyle said quietly, as he moved over towards her, always the one to take care of the others, not that Talia herself dealt with enough wound care of her own when it came to her clients and tattoos. He just was far more adept considering he worked at the hospital.

“I hate tattoos, besides, I’m not as insane as you to actually get a fake soulmate tattoo, freak.”

“That’s enough. Grace, let’s go, we need to talk.”

Rick didn't sound happy. Talia swallowed as she pressed herself back against the wall, watching him, Grace wasn’t the only one that glared at her this time, only, it was Rick’s glare that pierced right through her heart, that hurt so much worse than his treacherous girlfriend’s. He wasn’t just indifferent to her because he didn’t know her anymore, he hated her. She knew coming tonight would be a mistake, she knew trying to meet him ever again would just be a mistake. 

[tired-teacher-blog]

I've got old cutting scars that I covered up with a tattoo of a red feather. A dedication to everyone's favorite winged hero. Seeing it there on my arm gives me comfort. Like Hawk's himself is protecting me, keeping me from making new scars. He is in every sense of the word--my hero. Makes me wonder how the man himself would react if I could show it to him.

Trigger Warning

First of all let me tell you that YOU yourself are a hero! Taking measures to turn your life around and start anew is a clear sign of how strong you truly are, and I applaud you for that ❤️

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Now, let's see how the man in question, everyone's beloved winged hero, would react to seeing your tattoo and hearing the story of how it came to be.

The way I see it, he would be torn between pride and agony.

When he first asked you about it, it was casual, on a lazy evening as you two were cuddling on the couch or in bed while watching TV. Of course he did notice the remarkable choice you've made regarding the design, and thought that maybe he should tease you a little with a playful comment like, "you really love me that much huh?" or "what an exceptional choice, I am the best after all!"

He said it jokingly, expecting you to join in the fun and probably reply with an equally spunky comment, but when you didn't, he turned around to find a little blush creeping up your face and he was instantly intrigued.

And after badgering you relentlessly, you finally gave in and told him everything. From the cutting, to your choice of the design and the reason behind it, to your desire to stand on your own two feet.

You talked for hours.. and for once, he did not interrupt you until you were finally done, and even then he said nothing.

He simply held you in his arms as you weeped, kissing the top of your head and caressing your back.

A million thoughts invaded his head, all of which were about you, about what he can do for you.

And when you finally stopped crying, he looked into your puffy eyes and smiled lovingly while gently wiping your tears.

He told you he loved you, that he would never leave you for as long as he lives, that he is proud of you and that you are his hero just as he is yours.

He kissed your warm tear stained cheeks, your pouty lips, and your inked skin, admiring not only the beauty of the design, but also of the skin flaunting it proudly.

[rocknroll7575]

The Soldier & The Knight: Part 1

Chapter 1: How Soldier met Knight

"Be gentle love my bones may be made of metal but I've a heart made of glass" - Dally London

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She was with her grandfather as they looked over the city of Atlas and she thought it was the most beautiful sight as she also saw the snow fall from the sky.

"It's beautiful Grandfather," She said with a smile.

He smiled and gave her a nod, "It is," He said, "Your mother tells me You want to become a huntsman, is that true?" he asked.

Hearing his question, she looked down sadly, "I also want to join the military," Winter said, "Are you going to try and stop me like my mother? Or are you going yell at me like my father?" She asked.

He shook his head as he smiled, "No, I'm not going to do anything of the sort," He told her, "I'm going to support you,"

Hearing him say that, her eyes widened and she turned back to him with a shocked expression, "You... you are?" she asked him.

"Of course," He said, "On the condition, you can answer two of my questions,"

Winter looked at him, still confused, "What are they?" she asked.

He smiled, "The first question, why do you want to join the military and be a Huntsman?" He asked.

"I... I want to get out from under father's influence, I don't want him controlling my life, I don't want to be the damsel people see me as," she told him, "But I... I want to protect people, I don't care who they are, human or Faunus, I just want to protect them, as you did," She told him.

Those words hit his heart more than she could ever know, and he smiled at his granddaughter with a bright and proud smile. "That's a good reason, my dear, and I can't tell you how proud of you I am to hear you say that," He said.

She blushed and became bashful at her grandfather's words, "Grandfather..." She groaned while she hid behind her hands.

He laughed at her bashful behavior, "I'm sorry my dear, but it's true!" he cried with laughter, "You've made this old man proud,"

She removed her hands from her face and looked back at her grandfather, "Thank you," She replied, smiling brightly.

"Now then, my second question," He began, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" he asked.

Her expression returned to confusion, "Huh?" She asked, "Grandfather, I just told you that I-"

Her grandfather shook his head, "No, no, no," he cut her off, "That is what you want to do, I am asking you what you want to be, what kind of a person do you want to become?" He asked her once more.

She thought about what he asked and she was stumped. What did she want to be when she grew up? What kind of person did she want to become? Her father was ruthless and manipulative, he only cared for his image and the business he stole from her grandfather and mother. What about her mother? Did she want to become a woman so torn down from her marriage that she didn't even bother with her children, and escaped through a bottle?

No... no she didn't like any of those options. She despised those paths.

But she looked to her grandfather, a man who she admired since she heard about his great deeds to the people of Atlas and Mantle, how he fought for the rights of the Faunus in Atlas, and how he cared deeply for everything in the city. He was the purest and kindest man she had ever known.

And just like that, she had her answer.

She smiled at her grandfather, "Ask me again, grandfather, I have your answer," She told him.

He smiled at his oldest granddaughter and gave her a quick nod. "Winter... what do you want to be when you grow up?" He asked her.

Winter smiled softly at her grandfather, "Kind," she replied.

It had been years since that conversation, and now, Winter was a full-fledged Huntress as well as given the rank of Atlas Specialist, and she was proud of what she had accomplished, however, she wished that her grandfather had seen what she had become. She was sure she had made him proud.

Currently, Winter, along with Penny Polendina walked the halls of Beacon, looking for a room that belong to Penny's... friend. However, the question was, why was Winter with Penny?

Well you see, General Ironwood had tasked her to watch over Penny at her team, team COPR (Copper) in order to watch how Penny acted and blended in with humans and Faunus, and to make her job not seem so suspicious, Ironwood tasked other Specialist and Huntsmen in Atlas over other first-year teams.

She had already let Penny out of her sight and she had caused some damage at the Bullhead Docks, but thankfully the blame wasn't fully on her as Penny had managed to slip her watchful eye, which was quite embarrassing for her. She was furious with the android and wanted an explanation from her, but after Penny explained why she had left without telling her, Winter could not stay mad at her, after all, she had once done the exact same thing when she was younger and still under her father's thumb.

Another reason she was with Penny was that it appeared that the friend Penny wanted to see, a girl named Ruby Rose, who Penny had met when she slipped past Winter, appeared to live in the same room as her younger sister, Weiss. Winter quickly figured out meant that Weiss was a teammate to this Ruby girl, so she agreed to tag along, wanting to catch up with her sister, since it had been months since they had seen each other in person.

Penny walked gleefully down the hallway with Winter behind her. "You're gonna love my friend Ruby, Specialist Schnee!" Penny said with glee.

Winter smiled at Penny's joyous attitude, which she would admit was rather infectious. "I'm sure I will, Penny, and I hope to properly introduce you to Weiss," Winter told her.

Penny nodded with a smile, "Yes, and hopefully she'll be my friend too!" Penny said.

"Hopefully," Winter said, still smiling. 'Hopefully, she is not as... uppity as she was when she left, gods know she needs to ease up, she's not in Atlas and isn't a soldier' Winter thought to herself.

Penny looked at the doors and saw the numbers and quickly realized they were getting close to Team RWBY's Dorm. "Oh! We're almost there!" Penny cried and ran ahead of Winter.

Winter watched as Penny quickly ran ahead of her. "Wait! Penny!" Winter cried as she reached after, but let out a sigh and followed after her, she was just thankful that she didn't try to blast through the hallway with her rockets.

Eventually, after running after the Robotic teen, Winter saw Penny stop at a door, and knew that Penny must have found the door to Ruby and Weiss's room, but must have waited for Winter to arrive to knock, and once the oldest Schnee daughter reached the door, Penny squealed and decided to knock on the door but nobody answered.

Penny knocked once again in case someone was inside and didn't hear it the first time, or because they couldn't reach the door at the moment, but nobody answered the second Knock.

"Perhaps they aren't here," Winter said.

Penny's expression turned to disappointment as her head slowly turned to look at the floor, "Maybe..." She said.

Suddenly, the door behind them opened loudly and they turned around only to see a male blonde teenager with dull white armor and a sword strapped to his side, coming out into the hallway, and he closed his door behind him and then he turned, and his eyes locked onto both Penny and Winter, who were looking back at him, much to his surprise.

"Oh, uh... hi," Jaune greeted with a small wave.

"Hello," Winter greeted with a nod.

Penny seemed to perk up at seeing the boy and waved at him, "Hi! I'm Penny Polendina! Nice to meet you!" Penny greeted

Jaune smiled at her, "Nice to meet you too," Jaune greeted back, "I'm Jaune Arc, short, sweet- ah... forget I said that," Jaune replied with an awkward smile.

Winter felt like was going to try and flirt, but realizing it wasn't proper, or embarrassing, or he actually lacked the confidence, he decided to stop himself, but she decided to ignore that and gave him a kind smile. "I'm Specialist Winter Schnee, very nice to meet you, Mr. Arc," Winter said, holding out her hand.

Jaune shook her hand, "Nice to meet- wait... Schnee?" Jaune asked with a raised brow.

Hearing him asking about her last name, made her raise a brow in suspicion, and began to question if he was going to try and hit on her again or be rude to her. "Yes," She said with a hesitant tone.

But the young blonde looked surprised, "Oh so you must be related to Weiss!" he asked.

Winter nodded, giving him his confirmation, "Yes, I'm her older sister," She replied, "Do you know my sister?" Winter asked him.

Jaune rubbed the back of his head and let out a nervous chuckle, "Kinda," he said, "Her team and mine hang out a lot, though I don't hang around her much... not that I blame her," Jaune muttered the last part.

Winter heard what he muttered and raised a brow at him, and was about to say something, but Penny interrupted her.

Penny moved in closer to the boy, intruding on his personal space, "Are you friends with Ruby!?" Penny asked with a smile and wide eyes.

Jaune was a bit taken aback by Penny's outburst and at how close she was, but he recomposed himself and nodded, "Y-Yeah, I and Ruby are friends," He said with a smile.

Penny gasped, "Ruby is my friend too!" Penny cheerfully cried, "Can we be friends as well!?" She asked Jaune.

Jaune nervousness disappeared and he gave her a genuine smile and nodded, "Sure," he replied, "Any friend of Ruby is a friend of mine!" he said proudly.

"Sensational!" Penny cried as she hugged Jaune tightly.

Jaune let out an oof as he felt like the wind was nearly knocked out of him and Penny's hug felt like he was being hugged by an Ursa. To his shock, the girl before him was putting Nora to shame, but it still felt nice...

Ok, now it was getting harder to breathe.

"P-P-Penny...! To tight! Can't breathe!" He cried.

Penny then quickly broke the hug and apologized before she looked back at him. "Oh, do you know where Ruby is!?" she asked.

Winter nodded in agreement with Penny's question, "Yes, we came here to visit Ruby and my sister, but they aren't here," Winter told him, "Do you know where they might be?"

Jaune thought for a minute, "Well... If they aren't at the dorms, they might be in the library playing games or studying, or they could be at the Combat Class, they train there sometimes,"

Winter nodded with a small smile, "Thank you, Mr. Arc" Winter said as she turned around to walk toward the Library to see if Team RWBY were there, and then check the Combat Class. However, Winter stopped herself and Penny and turned back to Jaune, "Would you mind guiding us there? I nearly forgot that I am not in Atlas anymore," Winter told him.

Jaune nodded with a soft smile, "Sure, and don't worry, I've lived here for a month but I'm still getting lost," Jaune told her with a chuckle.

Penny chuckled with him, as she and Winter followed the young knight as he led them in the direction of Beacon's Library.

As they are walking toward the combat room, Jaune turned to Winter. "I don't think I've ever heard Weiss talk about you," Jaune told her, "Well, at least not around me or my team," he clarified

Winter looked at him, "I don't blame her, many have tried to court me through her or they simply try to get to know Weiss only to get her money," Winter said, "We tend to not try and get to close to a lot of people for those reasons,"

Jaune nodded, "Ah, I guess that's a good reason why she- uh...! N-Never mind! Forget I said anything" Jaune said with a bashful expression.

Winter shook her head, "No, please go on, what do you mean that was a good reason?" She asked him.

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Well uh... I may have tried asking her out a few times," He chuckled nervously.

Winter peered at him, "Really?" Winter asked with a raised brow.

Jaune realized he might have screwed up telling her that and quickly tried to straighten it out. "I didn't know who she was before, I uh... I just thought she was a really pretty girl and I thought I-I could ask her out, you know? I just needed to have confidence as my dad said, but well, she said no, but I tried a couple of more times because I thought I actually had a chance, but after a while, I finally got it through my head that she wasn't interested so I stopped," Jaune told Winter, "I wanna try to be friends with her now and make up for how annoying I was, though, I don't think she wants to try and be friends, and I can't say I blame her," He replied with a nervous smile.

Winter examined his mannerisms closely, a habit she was forced to pick up when too many people tried to get close to her for their own gain, but Jaune seemed genuine. He seemed to be sincere, which really surprised her because most people she and Weiss had met were after their fortune or worse, they wanted something more physical... but that was Atlas, this was Vale. So just maybe... it was possible that the people here were a bit different than in Atlas, and from what Weiss wrote about her teammates, they seemed to genuinely care about her as a person, and not care about her last name. Perhaps, Jaune was also one of those people, she hoped he was, but she could never really know, she has been tricked before...

However, Winter shook her head away from such thoughts and still looked at Jaune. "I'm sure she'll come around, give her some more time and I am sure that she will accept your friendship... she just needs time to let her guard down," Winter said.

Jaune gave her a nod, "I hope so," He said glumly

Penny then turned to him with a look of confusion on her face, "Why do you look sad?" She asked

"I-I don't-"

"I can see it on your face, I'm very good at reading people's facial expressions," Penny told him, "So why are you sad?" She asked him once more.

"I... I feel bad for asking Weiss out so much," Jaune said, "I know that I annoyed her a lot with my attempts of asking her out, and I know I came off as a creep, so I just have a good feeling that I kinda ruined my chances of being friends with her..." Jaune told her.

Penny looked at him for a bit, but she wasn't just scanning his facial expression, she was also monitoring his heartbeat for any signs of lying, but she found none, so she knew he was being honest about his feelings. Penny then gave him a smile, "Don't worry Jaune, I think Specialist Schnee is correct, she simply needs time to... Get the stick out of her butt?" Penny said.

Jaune tried not to laugh but he couldn't help himself, Penny just said that with a straight face, and based on how she sounded, it was just so funny to him.

"PENNY!?" Winter cried in shock as she turned to the robotic girl, "W-Where did you hear such a phrase!?" She asked.

Penny turned to look at her, "Oh, Neon!" Penny said, "She said it was another way to say that someone needs to loosen up, why? Is it wrong?" She asked the specialist.

Winter sighed, "It's... It's correct, but it's a crude phrase," Winter told her.

"Oh!" Penny said with shock, "Sorry..."

Winter just smiled softly at Penny, "It's alright, just try not to say that next time,"

Penny nodded and Jaune regained his composure and continued guiding them to the Library, and continued chatting with them.

Jaune chuckled at her and nodded, and he felt a little better, "Thank you, Penny," Jaune said with a soft smile.

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After a long walk, they arrived at the library and looked for four female teens, unfortunately, team RWBY was not there, so they left to check the combat class, and eventually, after another very long walk from the Library to the classes, they arrived at the Combat class.

"Here we are," Jaune said as he turned to Winter and Penny.

Winter gave him a soft smile and a nod, "Thank you, Mr. Arc," she said.

"It's no problem Win-Mhm, Specialist Schnee," Jaune replied with a nervous smile, "And please, Jaune is fine," He said.

Winter opened her mouth to protest, but she realized that Jaune was simply trying to be nice, so she simply let it go and gave a nod in reply.

Winter, Penny, and Jaune entered the combat class to hear the sound of the fighting occurring, and they walked closer to the arena and saw Team RWBY fighting a 2-on-2 battle, and the girls were with their respective partners. The three watched the fight, and Winter finally got a look at the entirety of her sister's team, and she wanted to know a little bit more but didn't want to stop the fight, so she decided to look for information from Jaune.

Winter turned to him, "Mr-... Jaune, can you tell me a little about my sister's team?" Winter asked

Jaune looked away from the fight and looked back at Winter, "Well, Ruby's the team leader, though she's pretty young, managing to get into Beacon only at 15, she's one of the best fighters of our year and she has this way of Inspiring people," Jaune said with a soft smile.

Winter saw the smile on Jaune's smile and she could tell it was one of admiration, it reminded her of how she smiled when she thought of her grandfather.

"I see," Winter said, "What about the brunette?" Winter asked.

"Her name's Blake Belladonna, she's team RWBY's ninja so to speak," Jaune replied, "I don't know too much about her, she's kind of quiet and not so social,"

Winter nodded, "And the blonde?"

"That's Ruby's older half-sister, Yang Xiao-Long, she's the brawler and a heavy hitter of the Team, she's funny and overall someone fun to be around with, though... she's got a bit of an anger problem," Jaune said with a smile.

Winter nodded, as she turned back to the fight, and as she did, the fight had come to an end, the winners were Yang and Blake. Winter, along with Jaune and Penny, walked down and into the arena, and Winter looked toward Weiss with a smile. "You did well, Weiss," Winter told her

Hearing her Voice, Weiss turned around and saw Winter, as did the rest of her team. Seeing her older sister, Weiss smiled brightly and made her way quickly toward her sister.

Weiss looked at Winter, still beaming with a smile, "Winter, it's so good to see you again!" Weiss said with glee.

Winter still smiled at Weiss. "Yes, it's good to see you again as well, Weiss," Winter replied.

"Hello there!" Penny said.

Weiss looked at her with a shocked face, but before she could reply, a squeal could be heard and it came from Ruby herself as she saw Penny.

"Penny!"

"Ruby!"

The two girls collided and hugged each other as if they were long-lost sisters, however, Ruby lost her balance and the two fell to the floor, and Ruby let out an oof. While that had happened with the two, Weiss turned back to Winter with a bit of a forced smile, trying not to show her embarrassment.

"That is my leader," Weiss replied.

Winter nodded, "Yes, I'm aware," she replied, she then gestured toward Jaune, "Mr. Arc has told me about your team, and I am please to hear how well your team is doing,"

Hearing this, Weiss turned her head away from Winter and toward Jaune, and gave him a peered glare, "Why are you here?" She asked.

Winter was a bit taken aback by her sister's expression and her tone when she addressed Jaune.

Jaune scratched the back of his neck uneasily, "I-I showed Winter and Penny here since they were unfamiliar with B-Beacon's layout," Jaune replied, his tone a bit lowered.

"Well at least your good for something, but I hope you didn't try to hit on my sister," Weiss told him.

Jaune's entire body shrunk in and he shook his head in response.

Yang chuckled as she approached Weiss, and stood behind her but looked at Jaune. "Strike out on the older hotter sister, eh VB?" Yang asked.

Jaune looked down, embarrassed and feeling put on the spot, "I didn't hit on her Yang," Jaune replied.

Winter could tell by Jaune's body language that he was tense, and when she saw his face, it spoke volumes of how embarrassed and uneasy he was, and for some odd reason, recognized the look on his face. She shook away those thoughts and looked at her sister and Yang. "Mr. Arc has made me aware of his attempts to court you, Weiss, and he's expressed to me that he meant to harm in it," She told them.

"I'm sure he is, but still Winter, he was too persistent," Weiss told her, "It really greatly annoyed me, and it took him what felt like forever to get it through his thick skull that I was not interested," Weiss said.

For some reason, Weiss's attitude and words irked Winter, and when Winter thought about why, she realized that it was due to how she wasn't easing up on Jaune despite her letting her know that he feels terrible for annoying her with his attempts of asking her out, and another reason was that Weiss was acting like their father, demeaning someone right in front of them without regard to their feelings... as he did to them many, many, many times.

"Weiss!" Winter cried with a stern voice.

Weiss stopped talking and turned to her sister with a stunned expression, even her teammates were taken aback by her raising her voice.

Winter looked at Weiss with a disappointed expression, "You are being disrespectful to a fellow student that, not only you, but your team may rely on at some point in the future, he's already apologized for inconveniencing you, Weiss," Winter told her, "But worst of all, the way you've talked... reminds me of father," Winter said, her tone slightly angered.

Hearing the last part of that sentence made Weiss shocked and her expression turned to that of sadness, and she looked down in shame, "I'm sorry... Winter," she replied.

'I'm not the one you should be apologizing to,' Winter thought, a little angry that Weiss didn't apologize too she sighed and closed her eyes for a split second before opening them and looking back at her, "Weiss, I'd like to have some time to catch up, when you've cleaned up, give me a call,"

Being told that, Weiss lightened up and smiled back at Winter softly with a smile and a nod, and she quickly made her way toward her dorm room leaving the rest of her team hanging out with themselves.

Winter turned around and looked at Jaune and saw his composure relax, letting out a sigh. She walked over to him. "Mr. A- Jaune," Winter called to him.

Jaune looked at her, and Winter saw that a forced smile came to his face, "Yeah?" He asked.

Winter looked at him with a glum expression on her face, "I'm sorry for my sister's harsh words," Winter told him

Jaune quickly waved it off, still with a forced smile on his face, "I-Its alright," Jaune said, trying to sound normal, "Like I said, I'm pretty much used to it, so I just brush things like that off now," He replied with a chuckle.

Winter was cleaning herself up in the locker room as one of her teammates kept watch for the girls that dumped their drinks on her. "Winter... I'm sorry that they did that,"

"It's alright... I'm used to it" Winter replied with a sad tone as she changed her uniform.

"And to be fair, I kind of deserve it," He said.

Winter sat in her room with a bruise on her left cheek and a busted lip, she turned to the mirror of her vanity and her lip quivered, and tears began to form in her eyes. "You're an idiot for asking, you knew he was going to be angry but you still had to ask," She told her reflection. "You deserved it..." She told the mirror reflection once more.

Winter shook the memories away as she looked at Jaune, "No, you... you don't deserve it," Winter said.

Jaune looked at Winter and when he did, she noticed she looked a bit dazed, "Um, Specialist Schnee? Are you ok?" he asked.

Winter appeared to be taken out of her daze and looked at him and gave him a quick nod, "I'm Fine," She replied, "I was just, lost in thought," She said.

"Oh," Jaune replied.

Winter nodded, "It was good meeting you... Jaune, I hope we can meet again," She said with a soft smile.

Jaune slowly began to form a genuine smile on his face, "Same here, Specialist Schnee," Jaune said.

Winter still smiled at him, "Please, you can call me Winter, You're not a soldier of Atlas so there is no need to address me by my rank," Winter told him, "Now, please excuse me, I and Weiss have some catching up to do," She said.

Jaune nodded, "Of course," He replied.

She gave him a nod, and a small wave, "Goodbye, Jaune," She said as she walked away.

"Goodbye..." Jaune began as he watched her walk away, "Winter," Jaune finished with a smile.

Yang then rested her hand on her fellow blonde's shoulder, and Jaune looked at her and he saw the expression she wore, which was a smug one as she wiggled her eyebrows.

"What?" He asked with a confused look.

Yang chuckled, "You, Jaune D. Arc, got the hots for the older sister, am I right?" She replied with an amused tone.

Jaune glared at her but had a small blush on his cheeks, "I-I do not!" He told her.

"Sure you don't~" Yang replied in a sing-song voice, "But I can't blame ya, I mean Weiss's sister looks like the full package~! Bow chicka bow-"

However, Yang was cut off when Blake struck the top of her head with her book, "That's enough Yang, you already embarrassed him enough," Blake said.

Jaune looked at the brunette, surprised she kind of stood up for him. "Thanks, Blake," Jaune said with a smile.

"Mhm," Blake replied as she walked off, opening her book and reading.

'Though she still seems to be the quiet one,' Jaune thought.

Yang followed her partner and Jaune watched them walk away, and he was about to leave, but before he could, Ruby called out to him.

"Hey, Jaune!"

Jaune turned around and looked at the two girls, one of who was now a new friend. "What's up Cretor Face?" Jaune asked with a smile, teasing his friend.

Ruby smiled and rolled her eyes and her fellow leader, "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me and penny, Vomit Boy," Ruby said, reminding him of his own nickname.

Jaune chuckled, "Sure, I don't have anything else to do,"

Penny looked at the two, "Why did you two refer to each other with "Cretor Face" and "Vomit boy"?" Penny asked the two.

Jaune and Ruby chuckled together, forgetting Penny was not used to their nicknames.

"It's just our nicknames," Ruby told her robotic friend. "I call him vomit boy because he threw up on my sister's shoes," Ruby told Penny.

"It was motion sickness!" Jaune cried with a smile, "And the reason I call Ruby Cretor Face is that she caused an explosion in the court year by sneezing," He told the ginger-haired girl.

"It was an accident!" Ruby said with a smile as she elbowed Jaune.

Penny couldn't help but giggle at her two new friend's antics, "Such amazing stories! You have to fill me in on everything!" Penny said with joy.

Ruby nodded, "No problem!" She cried, and then she realized what had happened only last night, "OH! You guys won't believe what I just learned about Blake!"

The three left the combat class as Ruby told the two (mostly Jaune) about the fight at the shipping docks and what she had learned about her own teammate, however, a part of Jaune's mind couldn't help but think about Winter and how she was a lot kinder than when he first met Weiss.

'She's very kind,' Jaune thought with a smile as he walked with Ruby and Penny.

[larvasmoon]

Portrait of the pale elf (1) - Torn Satin and other things ruined

Chapter Summary : Astarion has opened his tailor shop in the higher city, Carmine Red. There he welcomes all sorts of customers, but more often than not, his clients cross the threshold of his shop for all the wrong reasons … or the most delighting ones.

Warnings : Mention of past abuse. Fear of intimacy. Blood drinking. Biting. Fetish.

Word count : 2,5k

Author's note : This is the first time I'm sharing something I've written, but my love for Astarion as a character has surpassed my fear of posting. So here I am :) You can also find this story on my Ao3, thank you so much for giving this story a chance !

Astarion had always had hands that could either make or unmake, create or destroy.

Hands that were made to kill. 

Hands that had killed so many people that, sometimes, he could still smell the faint perfume of gore on them.

Hands that longed to kill when thirst turned him into a slave once again.

But also, fingers that knew all the secrets of a ‘little death’.

Fingers that remembered how to caress and hold bodies, until they were all but flushed with unshed blood.

Fingers that could raise someone to the height of such pleasure, that they would ineluctably shatter when falling down from it. 

Those very fingertips now strangely belonged to the most successful tailor in all of Faerûn. 

After all of his adventures, Astarion had unexpectedly decided to dedicate his nights to creating the finest garments in all of Baldur’s Gate and beyond. 

He’d opened a luxurious tailor shop in one of the biggest avenues of the higher city. It was a place where Astarion could put to use his wonderful talents for sewing and stitching, ones he had one practiced during centuries on the only pair of miserable clothes he’d ever been allowed to own by Cazador.

It’s name, Carmine Red, was beautifully painted on the storefront in the bloodiest of color. In the window display below, one could marvel at countless shiny and beautiful things. 

Astarion often saw little kids dragging their mothers towards the shop, with sparkly eyes, and wide smiles that had a few missing teeth. "I want this princess dress, please mother !" the little girls would always say, pointing at the most expensive piece he’d ever sewn, all but made of pearls, crystals and shimmery silk. He’d laugh at the way the mothers tried talk them out of such unreasonable idea, before finally pulling away the pouty and frustrated child. 

Other times, there would be a charming lady or a young adonis, shyly approaching his shop window in the dim street lights. Their eyes would wistfully linger on a satin corset, or on gold thread embroided doublets, as if they suddenly entertained the illusion of wearing it. But then, soon enough, they would notice the small price tags attached to the garments. It was always hilarious the way they’d squint their eyes, as if to double check because such outrageous amount of money couldn’t possibly be the true price. And yet, alas, it was, and the beautiful strangers would furiously blush and turn on their heels. They would hastily disappear into the night, as if the fact that they’d even entertained the idea of owning one of Astarion’s creations was ludicrous.

It was one of the reasons why his designs were exclusively coveted by nobles, princesses and even kings. They’d all come late at night in his shop, discreetly pushing the door of his workshop, to order the finest tailored outfits.

Nobody had ever seen anything like it before : the way he would cut dresses in a slightly provocative, yet elegant way. He’d always loved dancing on fine lines, after all, it was his signature. 

Delicate lace would effortlessly fall a little lower than acceptable on the cleavage of a lady. The pale skin of her breast tentatively, yet barely, outlined through the fabric. He would make puffy yet see-through petticoats, just enough for onlookers to make out the shadows of long legs through the modesty of a woman’s attire. The doublets he imagined were always more fitted than they usually would have been in other shops. The cinched waist highlighted men’s small hips while casting light on the width of their shoulders, the fabric all but holding their bodies in the right places. 

There was always something impossibly sensual about the silhouettes Astarion imagined. 

He had one day realized that, the centuries he’d unwillingly spent perfecting his mastery of the sensual arts, had bestowed upon him an incredible knowledge of body anatomy. One small compensation for all his sufferings, but one nonetheless. 

Every good tailor, to excel at his work, needed to first be knowledgable on bodies, on their curves and bones, on their proportions and mesures. That’s exactly what Astarion was : a contemplator of physical forms, and a master of sublimed physionomies. He only had to look at someone once to know what part of their body was the most magnificent, and how to pin, stitch, drape, or sew the finest of silks around it. 

Needless to say that his little business, was doing more than well. He spent most of his nights working on  attires for bals, masquerades, and soirees alike. His payment usually included an heavy purse of money, but also endless invitations to said parties, to admire his creations in the dim lights of ballrooms and palaces.

His new friends were baronesses, duchesses, or dukes, kings or princesses, and he only truly felt at peace in wide reception rooms, eased by the sound of violins, laughters and champaign glasses colliding.

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

That night, Astarion was sitting at his workshop table, working by the candlelights, when someone entered the shop. The little bell on the doorframe rang, and a rush of cold perfumed air entered the room with his guest. 

Jasmine and wood. He already knew who it was without having to turn around. 

Clarissa Tillerturn. 

"What owes me this impromptu visit, darling ?" he asked with his back to her, his eyes never leaving the delicate needlework he was focused on. 

Her dress and cloak shifted around her as she approached him to sit on one of his red velvet meridienne. 

"I need a new ball gown, Asti", she dramatically sighed, lying down on the plush cushions. 

He thanked the god that he was not facing her, otherwise she would’ve seen the way his face involuntarily contorted into one of pure annoyance. The pet name that she had unilaterally decided to give him was atrocious. Each time he heard it, the most vile retorts crossed his mind, but then he remembered what type of client she was. 

She was high nobility and one of his most generous customers, in more ways than one.

So if Clarissa Tillerturn wanted to call him "Asti", then "Asti" it was. 

"For what occasion, love ?"

"Oh but Duke Ravengard’s masquerade, of course ! It will take place in a tenday or so in his manor!", she exclaimed in her usual child-like tone, all but leaning on one of his shoulder with her gloved hand, "I need you to make me look angelic."

Ah yes, that masquerade, he dully thought, the one he was also supposed to attend. 

"That won’t require a lot of work on my part. You already do."

He heard her giggle behind him, her high pitched and annoying voice sounding uncomfortably loud in small space that was his shop. 

When he finally turned, his tape measure in hand, he was once again reminded of the reasons why he didn’t like her in the first place. Everything about her, from her long blond hair to her heady perfume, reminded him of the people he used to seduce for his master. 

She was the perfect kind of gullible, feeble and vain, noble girl that he would’ve easily lured into the dark with nothing but a bag of sweets and empty promises. These days, he was luring her all the same, but for his own benefit, and that knowledge made it almost bearable.

Predators hunt to eat, vampires seduce to drink blood, it was the old ways of this world. Who was he to even try and escape this vicious circle of hunger ?

"Do we really need to measure everything again ? I would argue that you know my body quite well by now."

Stupid girl, he thought, fighting the urge to not so kindly send her on her merry way. He was far too thirsty for that, and far too greedy to deny her heavy purse of money. Astarion forced a smile on his face and took her gloved hand in his to bring her to a stand. 

"I only need to take your waist’s measurements, darling."

When he bent over to glide the lace the tape around her, she pressed a clumsy kiss on his neck, right on his scars of all places. He braced himself before straightening up, and indulged her with a languid kiss he despised every second of. It was a small price to pay, just a little amuse-bouche so to speak, for her to give him what he needed. 

Sweet oblivious Clarissa melted into his arms anyways, pressing herself onto his chest and mewling with each slow and deliberate motion of his tongue.

"Are you sure you are only here to order a dress from me, lady Tillerturn ?" he breathed on her flushed cheek, as she made quick work of getting her out of her cloak, to bare her neck and décolleté to his eyes. 

Say you want me to feed, he silently begged as he looked into her wide blue eyes, I need to feed. 

"Do it, Asti. I want it."

Clarissa Tillerturn had a secret, you see. 

She had a vampire fetish, like a lot of other nobles in Baldur’s Gate.  

Between a few tailored dresses orders, she would regularly let him feed on her as a form of sexual gratification.

It never included anything other than a bite, and perhaps a kiss, on Astarion’s part however. 

"Not on your neck", he frowned, not willing to leave a mark in such a visible place, "Lie down for me, love"

And as though she was spellbound, she did. 

She settled on the scarlet velvet once again, hiked her skirts up her legs, and offered her pale thigh for him to feast on. It was already littered with faint scars near her groin, little punctured wounds he’d left the previous times she’d asked him to feed on her in the last months. 

Her hand shakily reached out of the pink ribbons holding her knee high stocking and she swiftly untied it to reveal more skin. 

"How scandalous darling …", he cooed in this irresistible silky tone he’d practiced for centuries, "What if anyone walked in on us and witnessed me debauching you in such way ?"

Clarissa bit her lips and furiously blushed, her hair pooling around her like a crown of gold. 

He didn’t need any further invitation and quickly kneeled at her feet, expertly bracing her leg on his shoulder to pepper kisses near her femoral artery. 

Her pulse raced under his lips, and he felt like he couldn’t play pretend any longer. 

The moment Astarion bit her thigh, her warm and sweet blood coating his mouth and throat, she moaned obscenely loud. It was the kind of noise people would expect to hear near brothels, not in tailor shops. If he still had a mind to himself, it would’ve worried him, but each and every one of his concern was drowned by the euphoria of feeding. 

Well, almost every single one … 

Each time he fed, from silly clients with vampiric fetishes, or from faceless strangers that offered their blood to him in parties or balls, Astarion was always reminded of her. 

Tav. 

The memory of the first time he’d fed her flashed in his mind. He sometimes wondered if the taste of her was somehow sublimed in his memory, glorified by the longing he would always feel for the only woman he’d ever loved. 

No one had ever tasted as wonderful as her. Some part of him seethed at the fact that no matter who he bit or touched, the ghost of her still visited him. Even after all this time. 

It was better than to be haunted by the memory of Cazador, of course, but he had a special place in his heart for kind of suffering the thought of her revived in him.

A beautiful thorny flower he couldn't help but sting his fingers on. A bittersweet remembrance.

He’d bared himself in front of her, in every possible way, admitting that he could not easily be intimate with someone anymore. And as expected, because he could not pleasure her with his body, she had denied him, rejected him, to offer a mere ‘friendship’, instead of patiently staying by his side. What a fool he’d been to think that what they had was special …

In the end, he would always be just a body to use for the people around him. Nothing more.

Astarion’s fangs involuntarily dug deeper into Clarissa’s flesh as he got lost in his memories. Her hands gripped her petticoat hard, her knuckles all white near his forehead, when he rhythmically sucked on her. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her accidentally rip the precious satin fabric it was made of. It tore and crumpled between her shaky fingers, as she moaned harder and harder. 

"It’s enough darling, I wouldn’t want you to go home bloodless", he mumbled from between her legs, lips and chin dripping with wasted delicacies. 

He carefully licked the wound, before grabbing a scrap of blue satin lying on a table next to him. Methodically securing it around her leg to stop the bleeding, he then quickly covered her with what was left of her skirt, as if nothing had ever happened in the first place. 

"Are you alright ? I could make you some tea if you’d like." 

He’d once learnt from Shadowheart, back when they were camping, how to brew herbs to make Tav feel better after he’d fed on her. It was now a generosity he liked to extend to his very satisfied "victims". 

She was still pink all over, and the scent of arousal lingered around her, but it inspired nothing in him but disgust. 

"No, Asti, I need to be on my way. I have a dinner tonight" she groaned as she sat, and collected herself. 

She hastily arranged her head of golden curls, put her cloak back on, and extended a heavy purse of money that he gladly accepted. 

"I’d like for the dress to be ready on wednesday, is that quite alright ?" 

"Of course, darling. It’s a pleasure to deal with you, as always", he purred, placing a chaste kiss on her hand. 

And with with that she was out in the streets once again. To any oblivious onlooker she was simply out and about, but the faint limp with which she walked made Astarion smirk. 

His smile fell when he looked at the purse of money that was still in his hands. 

Don’t be mistaken, he warned himself, you’re no prostitute, the money is for the dress. 

For a few seconds, the nagging thought that nothing had really changed came back to plague him. 

It often did, when he was all alone with himself, sewing, trancing, or lying in a warm bath. A constant source of doubt and despair. 

He was free, or as free as a slave to vampiric urges can be. His master was long gone. He could roam wherever he pleased, feed from whoever he pleased, make use of his time however he pleased ...

And yet, he was still begging, performing, seducing, in exchange for a few drops of blood, and indirectly, for a purse of coins. 

Some crueler part of his mind even mocked himself, wondering if anyone had ever crossed the threshold of his tailor shop because they were interested in his designs in the first place. 

The voice in his head morphed and merged with the one of his master, and as he sat before the unfinished doublet on his table to start working on it once again, it whispered :

"Still loveless, still used, you pathetic child who never amounted to anything... You are nothing without me, I told you so."

[dayseternal-blog]

OKOKOK I might sound weird but do you have any kinky naruhina fanfics?

This anon has nearly the exact same wording as my most popular fanfic rec ask that I answered in 2021. For some pervy reason, that post has seen the most circulation out of all my fanfic rec lists 🤭 maybe because I sorted it by kinks? Maybe because I included hentai?

Anyway, perhaps the same anon is back for

A New Kinky Rec List ver. 2? 🙈

New year, new additions to the craziest, kinkiest NaruHina fics I've yet read 😳 lol again, majorly inappropriate, these new ones will be sorted by kinks below the cut.

NaruHina Smut & Kink

A reminder that some of these are meant to be read with humor! And these are all rated Explicit.

BDSM

“Down the Rabbit Hole” by @vegebulsoup - Modern AU, One-shot. Despite his protests, Jiraiya takes Naruto out to a hostess club for his birthday and it’s not quite what he expected.

"The sweet, shy, innocent Kunoichi" by @tjtheanimelover - Canon-Divergent AU, Series of One-shots. See Naruto's point of view as he and Hinata partake in some naughty activities

"Bruise" from "Lips, Tongue, Teeth" by @wickermayne - Canon-Compatible, One-shot. Warning: bruise and pain play

CLONES/THREESOME/MORESOME

“After the Bleeep” by @peppercornpress - Canon-Compatible, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto and Hinata agree to try out phone-sex while Naruto is off on a business trip. Things do not go as planned.

“Savage” from “NaruHina Erotica Oneshots” by @makuro767 - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. I am the sun, you know you need me / And you might get burned if you take too much / Don’t get addicted ‘cause, I’m gonna fade you like that rush / Is that blood on me or blush?

"Double Trouble" by vegebulsoup - Canon-Compatible, One-shot. The Seventh Hokage is always using shadow clones to help him fulfill his many roles. He even sends one to help his wife around the house and keep her company. But when Hinata starts killing his clones in the middle of the day, Naruto struggles to keep his composure at work as the clone's memories flood his mind.

"High School AU" from "NaruHina & MenHina Lemons" by Veradux - High School AU, Three-shot. "This can't continue, Menma." Naruto sighed. "I'll invite her over, and we'll ask her to choose one of us."

"New Years, New Beginnings" from "Small Doses" by @chloelapomme - Modern AU, One-shot. Tonight was the night. New year, new beginning. She had finally made her decision regarding the two men that had been gravitating around her, openly flirting with her for a year now.

"Fun With Clones" from "Tales of the Seventh Hokage and the Byakugan Hime" by Nihal Tonks-Lupin - Canon-Compatible, One-shot. They've been married for 3 years now, and Hinata knew her husband better than anyone. She knew she could get him into trouble, but she also knew he would not mind at all. The reward was too great for him to complain about a little public embarrassment.

"Naughty Hinata" by afydith - Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata Hyuga was thought of as the most innocent person in the village, but how wrong everyone was.

"New Tactics" by konyah - Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Her eyes darted to the books on her night table. She absolutely cannot BELIEVE that Naruto had these sleazy books in his library, and in a spot their children could easily access! Even if they were from his mentor - she could tell that he had read threw them a few times from the slightly torn pages.

"Teaching" by Senrab Nomis - Canon-Divergent, One-shot. Hinata wants to learn the shadow clone jutsu, and who better to teach her than Naruto? Now if only he could figure out why her clones aren't exact copies. Surely there must be some reason they keep appearing in their underwear?

STAMINA/MULTIPLE ORGASMS/CUM INFLATION/SIZE KINK

"Valentine's Eve" by v0c SweetKiss - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. With Naruto's love towards Sakura begins to waver, Hinata seized this opportunity to take action.

“Love in all the wrong places” by Pelican182 - Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. She knew what she was getting into, yet didn’t try to stop it. How could she when she’d already become so addicted. [I just found out that the fic was deleted or something. I tried to get it on the wayback machine, but it only had Ch. 1, Ch. 4, and Ch. 5]

"Spit" from "Lips, Tongue, Teeth" by wickermayne - Canon-Compatible, One-shot. They started with her fingers first. “I’m just too big, y’know? Don’t wanna hurt you,” Naruto mumbled between sloppy kisses.

“Hinata’s Plan” by EreborMarkus - Rated E for major hentai smut, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Hinata has been working on a plan for years now, and poor Naruto has no clue. It’s finally time to reel in her man.

"Naruto Hinata" from "Naruto Deserted Island" by Freedom Guard - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. What do you do when you are stuck on an island with plenty of food and water, and the only company you have is a beautiful woman?Naruto is about to find out.

"Hinata Hyuuga, Training Session of Seduction" from "Naruto's Beginnings of the Fox's Seed" by sandkings321 - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. Naruto Uzumaki is a dominating Adonis - blessed with good looks, a strong body oozing with pure manliness and unadulterated testosterone, pure animal magnetism, an unquenchable thirst for sex and a habit of dominating submissive horny women and bringing them into his harem. 

"Icha Icha Paradise: The Jinchuuriki and the Hyuga Heiress" by DarkChild316 - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot.  After a day of playing in the snow, Naruto and Hinata return home to the Hokage Mansion where things "heat up" in a hurry.

SQUIRTING

“Work Relations” from “Hinata Oneshot Series” by tjtheanimelover - Modern AU, One-shot. Naruto and Hinata are both adult film stars who have secret crushes on each other. When they finally get the chance to work together, the results will be explosive.

“Instagram Lust” by conquereddaddyissues - Rated E, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Naruto can’t stop thinking about Sakura’s roommate Hinata. Or asking about her. Sakura does him a favor, & now he can’t stop watching her Instagram stories. Or jerking off to them. Fuck, did Hinata turn him into a pervert?

CHEATING

"Happiness Found" by dreadlord789 - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. The war has been won, differences have been set aside, and Naruto is now Hokage, married to his childhood crush. Though his marriage is far from perfect, he finds comfort in the one woman who has never left his side.

“Runner’s High” (to be rewritten) by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated E, College/Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. She’s an older woman. She’s also married. He’s a freshman at University. Single. She’s the one he wants and he doesn’t see what’s so wrong about that.

DRUGGED/DUB-CON/NON-CON

“Antidote” by tragedyneverends - Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. During a mission, Sakura and Hinata get bitten by highly venomous spiders. They don’t have enough time to prepare the antidote so, to save their lives, they’ll need Sasuke’s and Naruto’s… help.

"don't mind me" from "love incredible" by @ellaroundpanda - Magic AU, One-shot. In which a seemingly innocent box of cookies causes some trouble for Naruto and it's up to Hinata to deal with the consequences... Or, Naruto eats a bunch of cookies laced with extremely potent aphrodisiacs and no one but Hinata can help him.

"Blessed Poison" by @journalist298 - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. After a run-in with a rogue female ninja who hates men, Naruto is infected with a poison that will kill him in 24 hours. There's only one cure. Hinata will do anything to save him...anything.

SEMI-PUBLIC/IN PUBLIC/EXHIBITIONISM

“Chapter 2: Modern AU” from “NaruHina and MenHina Lemons” by Veradux - Rated E, Modern AU, One-shot. Theme: Olympics Swimmer Naruto (22) x University Junior Hinata (19)

"Married Life:Crazy Adventures" by LolaTheSa - Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Come with Naruto and Hinata to see their married adventures.

"Icha Icha Nightly Report" by tjtheanimelover - Modern AU, One-shot. Hinata is a regular reporter for the Konoha News Station by day but is a freaky reporter by night. She will stop at nothing to go all out for her viewers but once her reports get leaked what will she do and how will everyone react?

“Naruto’s New Focus” by @truebkgirl - Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. For 18 months training and missions have been put on hold due to the loss of his arm. Now, Naruto is mission-ready and learns that a number of his comrades have taken on seduction missions… He’s questioning his feelings but never lets his focus waiver. Naruto has a new mission to endure. All he needs now is to figure out if SHE wants to be part of it.

"Peeping Naruto" by randomteenager - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot.  Jiraiya orders Naruto to complete one of the hardest missions of his young life.

“On-Screen” by browniefic - Modern AU, One-shot. In which camboy Naruto’s girlfriend makes an appearance on camera.

PREGNANCY/LACTATION

"Perspective" from "Naruhina Oneshot Prompts" by tjtheanimelover - Canon-Compliant, One-shot. Written for NH Prompts 2022, March 1st- Extra Prompt: Perspective

"Relief (Hinata)" from "VulgarAssassin's Naruto Drabble Dump" by wickermayne - Canon-Compliant, Drabble. Boruto wasn't a hungry baby.

DARK!NARUTO/DEMON/KYUUBI

 “Fifty Shades of Denial” from “Heartbreaks and Heartaches” by @powerful-niya - Crime AU, One-shot. NHPrompts22 Prompt 8: “You know, things wouldn’t be all that different if we were dating.”

"Incubus" from "NaruHina Erotica Oneshots" by Makuro767 - Demons AU, One-shot. It’s not a fairytale love story. It’s not a teenage romance. She didn’t even know if this can be considered romance.

"Friction" by Supercar - Canon-Compatible, One-shot.  It was as if they were no longer just Naruto and Hinata. He couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. He didn't want to.

FURRY/MATING/ALPHA/OMEGA DYNAMICS

Chapter 13 from “NaruHina Oneshots” by powerful-niya - Fox!Naruto x Bunny!Hinata AU, One-shot. In a world where Humanus Hybrid Prey and Predators live and hunt, one fox and one bunny meet unexpectedly.

"The Beastmaster and the Witch" from "NaruHina & Menhina Lemons" by Veradux - Fantasy AU, One-shot. Hinata Hyuga, the Cosmic Witch of the East, is not a typical witch.

"Alpha" from "NaruHina Erotica Oneshots by Makuro767 - A/B/O Canon-Divergent AU, Three-shot. Naruto bit Hinata...that's not a good thing...or is it?

I wrote these:

“Sweet As” from “Needs & Wants” - Alpha/Omega Modern AU, One-shot. Hinata gives Naruto candy on Valentine’s, and he develops a crush early-on.

"Lovesick" - A/O Canon-Divergent AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. She wasn't ready for Naruto to come-of-age. He wasn't ready, either.

AGE DIFFERENCE

“Risk of Intimacy” by browniefic - Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Naruto knows right from wrong. He knows the right thing to do in this situation is to train his business partner’s daughter. He knows the wrong thing to do in this situation is to fuck her against his desk. But goddamn it, he’s only one person.

"Hinata (DILF Naruto)" from "Chicken Ramen for the Pervert's Soul" by wickermayne - Canon-Divergent AU, One-shot. Naruto knew better. “Here you are, Uzumaki-sama.” He bit back a growl, taking the cup of tea from Hisashi’s eldest daughter.

"Lust for Life" by chloelapomme - Modern AU, One-shot. When did one stop being a child? A little kid seeking affection? Was it when they got so much that they eventually had to leave the suffocating love of their parents? Or was it when they never got enough that they asked for more in some other ways?

"Miss Hinata" by Sadistic One - Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Hinata's life had become a custom routine until Naruto joined her company four months ago. Somewhere in month three, Sakura assigns Naruto to be her work husband. That wouldn't be a problem if Hinata wasn't thirty-five and already married. However, Naruto knows this, everyone else knows she's married, so why did he kiss her?

"Dissolve Me" by bunnyhoodlum - Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. He remembers the her before the bad coping mechanisms as he struggles to find the balance between doing what's right and doing right by her.

"Hot For Teacher" by truebkgirl - College AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. Without looking back up to him she says, "I'll be on at 9:45. Don't be tardy." Naruto's smile widens. "I haven't been tardy for you yet, Ms. Hyuuga."

ANAL

"Hole" from "Lips, Tongue, Teeth" by wickermayne - Canon-Compatible, One-shot. Naruto eats ass.

"Fantasy AU" from "NaruHina & MenHina Lemons" by Veradux - Fantasy AU, One-shot. Theme: Naruto (Dragon Emperor, 24) x Hinata (Sorceress Concubine, 21)

I know this list isn't exhaustive, like I'm definitely missing some good ones, but it's getting too long and the post keeps glitching lol. So anon, take a look at my first list and this one for a whole lot of smut!!