#which is inconvenient because i have work in the morning …

[wackydoggs]

aqua teen roblox force

[kerosenee-kisses]

change of scenery | itoshi rin x reader

summary: rin is a little irritated about spending the night at your apartment for once. you try to convince him that it’s not so bad 

a/n: this is my first time writing smut/fic, let alone sharing my writing on here eek! i was on a reading ban for the week and this what my brain decided to do with all the free time i had. pretty sure i was possessed when I wrote this. banners by @cafekitsune! thank you!!

cw: 18+, afab reader, pro player!rin, no specified pronouns, established relationship, marathon sex, overstimulation, oral sex, vaginal sex, finger sucking, nipple play, squirting, they just fuck a lot, ok? rin down horrendous for reader

wc: 4.3k

“Stop sulking, Rin.” 

“I’m not sulking,” he says gruffly from his place on your bed. 

“Then why are you pouting, baby?” You rub his calf to coax an answer out of him. When he fails to reply right away, you ask. “Is this because we’re at my place instead of yours?” 

“I just prefer sleeping in my own bed,” he mutters after a while. 

“It’s not like I live in a hovel,” you laugh.  

“I know that. It’s actually...nice here.” 

“So, what’s the problem? You’re acting like I forced you to come over.” 

In the 6 months that you and Rin have been seeing each other, you only recall two other occasions where you both spent the night here. As much as you love your apartment, your boyfriend seems intent on keeping you hostage at his. You’re not complaining; he’s the one with the pro-athlete money. Enough to afford a massive apartment that could fit three of yours, complete with state-of-the-art appliances and exorbitantly priced furniture in every room. Seriously, his mattress alone could cover 4 months of your rent. 

Under normal circumstances you would have been getting a running start to hop onto said mattress right about now but, unfortunately for Rin, you have an ungodly early meeting to lead tomorrow. Which means it’s in your best interest to be at home when you wake up, with all your belongings at your disposal instead of fighting to break free from Rin’s sleepy embrace only to realize you accidentally packed a blouse with a massive stain on the front or forgot your work computer in your other bag. 

When you’d informed Rin that you wouldn’t be going home with him on the car ride after your date, he’d visibly deflated, but didn’t say anything. After 20 minutes of driving in silence, he parked in front of his building after all. Before you could even protest, Rin had turned on the hazard lights and jogged inside. He returned only a few minutes later with an overnight bag.  

“Obviously, you didn’t force me,” he scoffs. “I just like being around you. And since I live closer to the stadium than you, I–forget it.” 

“Noooo, don’t do that. Now you have to tell me! Please?” You say with a super effective pout on your face.  

Rin clears his throat and looks away from you. A bright blush blooms from the column of his beautiful neck, across his high cheek bones and up to the cute tips of his ears. His response is so quiet that you have to move right in front of his face to hear him the second time. 

“I said, since I live closer, I can spend more time with you in the morning before practice.” 

It takes a minute to process what he’s just admitted to you. Sure, he said it with the sourest face ever, but his sincerity makes your heart melt.  

“You are so cute!” A statement punctuated with a kiss to his still pink cheek. “I’m sorry if staying the night here is more inconvenient, but I promise to make it up to you. Is that ok?” 

Rin only nods. You press another kiss to the corner of his lips and retreat to your ensuite bathroom to get ready for bed. 

“Aww, don’t miss me too much, I won't be long! I know you’d rather I stay cozied up to you all night.” 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. “Just hurry up.” 

You can’t help but giggle once you close the door. In Rin’s world, missing 10 minutes of cuddling in the morning would surely spell his demise. And like the good partner you were, you intended to tease him for his dramatics. Only a little.  

After you've showered, you open up your cramped closet at the opposite end of the bathroom. Both racks on either side nearly buckle under the weight of all your clothes. They effectively obscure the tall dresser at the very back. You shove some of your heavier coats out of the way to open the top drawer. From it, you pick out an outfit you’d been saving for a rainy day: a silky orange slip and matching thong.  

You return to the washroom to dress in front of the mirror. The nightdress gives short a whole new meaning. The frilly white hem barely covers your ass, and it’s taken in on the sides to really accentuate your hips. The sheer material adorning your breasts is covered with a delicate lace flower detailing, and a cute orange bow sits in the valley of them. 

“Oh, I’m gonna kill that man dead,” you laugh at your reflection. You feel positively edible in this. Rin won’t know what to do with himself.  

You don’t do much else in terms of preparation. Moisturize your body, finish your skincare routine and brush your teeth. You don’t want Rin thinking you’ve planned anything special at all. Honestly, you want to make him feel a little insane. 

Rin is watching a match on his phone when you emerge from the washroom.  

“Finally,” he sighs, but doesn’t look up right away.  

“Sorry, the water felt so good. I couldn’t bring myself to get out.” You walk around the bed to get to your side.  

He pauses the video mid-goal and his eyes widen as he takes you in, but you busy yourself with getting comfortable beside him. 

“Who’s playing?” you ask, eyes trained on his phone. When he doesn’t answer you look up at him and frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“Is this what you normally sleep in?” he asks.  

“Uh, when I’m at home, yeah.” 

“But I’ve never seen you wear anything like this.” 

“Because I always borrow your clothes when I sleep over.” These days your sleepwear consists of a pair of boxer briefs and an oversized t-shirt. 

“It’s not like I’ve never stayed over here before now,” Rin complains. 

“Both those times were in the dead of winter. It’s hotter now and I’ll definitely overheat with you clinging to me all night.” 

“I don’t cling.” 

“Sure, whatever you say baby.” You lay your head on his chest. His heart thunders erratically beneath you. Loathe as he is to admit it, Rin is easy. Maybe even easier than Aiku. That makes you snort. Yeah right. 

“What’s so funny?” Rin asks sharply. 

“Nothing really.” You offer him an innocent smile. His Adam's apple bobs at the sight of it. “Can I have my kiss goodnight now, please? I’ll probably fall asleep soon.” 

“Seriously? You’re going to bed now?”  

“I’m gonna try to. I want to get to work early to go over a few things before the meeting. I’m a little nervous about it. What reason do I have to stay up?” 

He narrows his eyes at you but puts his phone on the nightstand all the same. Rin readjusts you both so you can lay on the bed and he on his side. He brings one hand up to your cheek and draws closer to give you a lingering kiss. You know he’s hoping you’ll take the bait, deepen the kiss yourself so he can later claim that you were the one begging for it.  

“Thank you, Rinnie,” you sigh against his lips. “I love you, good night.”  

You give him one last peck then make a big show of yawning and adjusting your pillow. You close your eyes even though you wish you could see the confusion likely marring his pretty face.  

He cracks much quicker than you expect. Not even 10 seconds pass before he shakes your shoulder and says “Wait, wake up. I need another kiss.” 

Rin kisses you so intently that you can hardly breathe. Each brush of his lips is an admission of his adoration. You hum contently into his mouth, and he groans, almost pained. He cradles your cheek once more, pushes his tongue into your mouth, desperate to caress your own. He tastes minty sweet, and you feel delirious and lightheaded the longer the kiss goes on. His hand travels the expanse of your body leisurely despite the increased frenzy of your kiss. From your neck down your sternum and over your breast. Heat travels along the right side of your body until he settles on your hip, petting the bare skin there. 

You reach a hand into his soft hair and tug, just enough so you can get a few breaths in. Rin hisses at the sensation and presses closer to you. You smile wickedly when you feel him hard against your thigh. 

“Oh? What’s he doing here–” 

“Sit on my face,” Rin blurts out.  

You blink at him. Not exactly the response you were anticipating, but you’ll take it. He has the grace to appear embarrassed, at least. 

Rin rolls you both so he can lay on his back with you on top of him, chests flush with each other.  

“Please? Just do it.” His hands glide up and down your lower back in a bid to convince you. 

“A third kiss goodnight? Aren’t you the sweetest.” You reach under your slip to remove the matching panties, but Rin catches your hands to hold them in place.  

“Leave those on.”  

“You’re the boss.”  

The heated look he gives you as you crawl up his body strikes the flint of your desire and sets you aflame. Those viridescent eyes track your every move, his willing prey. You settle your thighs on either side of his head and grin down at his very serious face. 

“Hi there.” You push his hair back from his forehead, trace his brow fondly. “I like this view.” 

Rin nips at your thigh, and you yelp. He runs his tongue over the bite before sucking a mark into your flesh. Your breaths leave you with labored exhalations, and your nerves are alight with excitement.  

“Same here,” he says, mystified. His warm breath fans over your cunt and arousal gushes out of you. Rin kisses along your thigh, stopping just shy of the edge of your thong before turning his attentions to the other. He feathers kisses along your skin that leave you twitching. 

“Stop teasing me,” you whine.  

“You know, your patience is severely lacking,” he says, but the set of his brows, the haze over his eyes, they tell on him; he’s even more eager than you.  

Rin kisses you at your core through the sticky material of your underwear then softly licks from your entrance up to your clit. You shudder at the featherlight affection. Another broad lick has you sighing, the next, sinking your fingers in his hair to yank him closer.  

“Fuck,” he groans miserably before he pulls your panties aside and licks your soaked flesh. You moan at the direct contact and briefly rock your hips forward. He gives your clit wet, sucking kisses that have you clutching the headboard hard for balance. But Rin licks and sucks on your poor clit like he has no other option.  

His hands skim over the silky fabric of your dress, gliding from your waist up to your breasts. He massages them gently, pinches your nipples until they are taut between his fingers. Your hips surge forward again, and Rin takes it upon himself to grasp your hips to guide you along his face. Your stiffened clit grazes his nose each time he pulls you forward. Tears prick at your eyes as you cum with a silent cry of pleasure, and Rin contently laps up the release between your legs. He doesn’t let up at all, relentless in his pursuit of your second orgasm. You shakily lift yourself just out of reach and he makes an aggrieved noise in protest. 

“Come back here. I’m not done with you yet,” he says breathlessly. He tries to pull you back down, but you manage to shuffle away from him, just enough so you can turn around to face the tent in his boxer briefs. 

“Let me at least make you feel good too.” You glance at your boyfriend over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with hunger, molten pools of teal lust.  

As you free him from the confines of his underwear, he rids you of yours completely and sets on you at once. Rin grabs your ass and pulls you back down on his face. He massages your cheeks and spreads you open so he can devour you more thoroughly. He presses his desire into you with his fingers, communicates his unfettered want with his tongue on your sex. 

You delicately lap at the pearlescent pre beading on his slit, and more spurts onto your tongue in the process. You lick and kiss along his smooth shaft and you feel Rin’s erratic breathing against your center.  

You wrap your lips around the reddened head of his cock and suck. Rin swears sharply, driving his hips up involuntarily. You nearly choke around the length of him.  

“Sorry, sorry,” Rin says against your thigh. You mewl a bit pathetically when he gently draws your clit back into his mouth and laves his tongue over it. You try your best to match his rhythm, hollow your cheeks once you take him back into your mouth and suck hard. You love the feel of him on your tongue, savor the taste of salt on his skin. You bob your head lower when he starts to moan into you. The vibrations make you twitch, on the precipice of another delicious orgasm.  

When you reach the base of his cock, Rin wraps his arms around your waist and shifts you both onto your sides. He presses his face even deeper into your drenched folds. His one hand splays across the small of your back possessively, his other arm wraps around your bent leg so he can caress your knee.  

It’s taking all your willpower to focus on Rin’s pleasure when he’s eating you out so fucking good. Your stomach spasms in response to the obscene slurps and groans coming from him. You feel like the forbidden fruit, and Rin is in the garden trying to eat the core itself regardless of consequence.  

The fact that he’s so desperate for you to reach your next peak sets you off. Your entire body melts, down to your bones. 

You wrap an arm around his muscular thighs to help push more of him down your throat. The wet warmth of your mouth enveloping him completely has him cumming in tandem with you. The slightly bitter taste of him is addictive, you swallow as much as you can.  

You pull off of him, panting and feverish. Your throat is sore, tears stain your cheeks, and your entire body feels raw. You jolt when Rin leaves one last sultry kiss on your pussy before he sits up. He removes his boxers in one swift motion and pulls your limp form into his lap. The casual display of strength coupled with the look on his face, still so serious with want, is much too erotic for you to bear.  

Rin licks his spend from your chin and your swollen lips before he kisses you. The combined taste of both your arousal is an effective aphrodisiac, you feel like you’re in heat, ready for more of him despite how sensitive you are. You suck on Rin’s tongue, and he bucks up against you, hard. You can’t help but match his movements. Each time the head of his cock catches on your opening you suck harder on his tongue.  

“Rin, please. Ah! I need more.” You can’t wait a second longer, you hold his cock at the base and guide it into you. You’re so wet that he slides in easily, and you both moan once he fills you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, meeting his thrusts fervently. When he really starts to press into you, planting his feet onto the mattress and driving his hips hard and fast into yours you dig your nails into his back and scratch. Rin groans harshly. When you scratch him again, he guides you onto your back, takes your hands and presses them down into the bed above your head.  

He pulls out just to the tip, then fucks back into you with a sharp thrust. You throw your head back into the mattress, eyes screwed shut, and moan his name. You didn’t know he could reach so deep inside you. It makes your head feel syrupy.  

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look only at me,”

You suddenly feel shy beneath his heated gaze, spread open like this. He grips your waist and your hands gravitate to his biceps. He moves slowly; each measured thrust of his hips deliberate in their purpose. 

“Mmm, feels so good Rin,” you whimper. You lock your legs around his lower back and roll your hips against his. You reach for the back of his neck and pull him close so you can suck on his lower lip. Rin fucks you hard. He pistons his hips at a dizzying pace and a drawn-out moan punches out of you. His hands slide to your ass, and he pushes his cock in even deeper. He drives himself into you fervently, and you marvel at his stamina. Despite the sheen of sweat covering his body, he doesn’t seem the least bit tired.  

He breaks your kiss and you whine, chasing after him; a glistening web of saliva connects your lips still. He severs it to lick against the shell of your ear and ask, “Are you gonna cum for me again?”  

Your body locks up, mouth falls open as you scream out in ecstasy. He keeps fucking you through it, but his rhythm falters shortly after you’ve come down.  

Your chests rub together as you both try to calm your breathing. But your nipples harden with every breath you both share, so your lust stays at fever pitch.  

Rin kisses your cheek almost reverently. He sucks love bites into your neck, your clavicle, your breast. Mouths at your nipple through the material of your dress. The friction of the lace paired with the wet heat of his mouth has you panting. He pushes the strap of your nightdress down your shoulder and licks at the stiffened peak. His tongue drags a path across your sternum to your neglected nipple, yanking your other strap down so he can suck on it. You grip his hair so tightly that he moans around your breast. He retaliates by lightly pulling at your nipple with his teeth, and you hiss.  

Rin slowly kisses your heaving stomach, licks along the ridges of your rib cage. More kisses down your hip bone until he’s back between your legs. Rin places each one over his shoulders before he pushes his cum back inside with two fingers. He curls them against that spongy spot that has you thrashing under him.  

“Fuck,” you whine. “I can’t-I can’t cum anymore.” 

Rin spits on your already messy folds and licks it back up with a firm drag of his tongue. Your hips jolt up and you cry at the overstimulation.  

“You can. It’s for me.”  

You gasp when Rin pulls his fingers out of you. He braces his arms around your middle as he lifts himself onto his knees, dragging your lower half off the mattress completely, along his dripping chest, and up to his waiting mouth. Your dress bunches up at your waist; heat flares up your body at being half dressed so indecently.

You fist the blanket beneath you and stare up at him in awe. Being his singular point of focus like this is uniquely intoxicating. You force each shuddering breath out slowly so you can at least comprehend the amount of pleasure you’re feeling. 

“Why are you being so quiet?” He pushes three fingers in and flicks his tongue against your clit. You scream his name loud and clench the sheets even tighter. Rin shudders and leans back further, bearing most of your weight. You whimper when he pulls his fingers out again. But he lays them against your quivering lips and shushes you. He pushes the digits past the seam of your lips, drags your essence across your tongue. You moan around them wantonly. 

“See how good you taste?” His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, and he fucks them back into you, knuckle deep and desperate. Rin wants nothing more than to discover the locus of your desire, and you are endlessly turned on by that fact. You arch up from your place on his chest, chasing his mouth. He sticks out his tongue for you to grind against but it’s not enough. 

“Rin, please,” you whisper.  

“Fuck. Say my name again.” He pulls away once more and you sob at the loss of him. 

“Rin. Please fuck me baby.” 

Your boyfriend paws at your chest and wraps his wet lips around you, slurping lewdly. He scissors his fingers in your spasming heat until lightning seizes up your overwhelmed body. You cum with his name on your lips, an ancient chant, a benediction.  

He lays sweet kisses on your inner thighs as you come down from your high.  

“Oh my god,” you pant. “I love you. You’re so good at that.” 

Rin’s breaths tremble as soon you say it. You shiver when he pulls his fingers from your tight heat. He lays you back down carefully, and kisses each of your ankles as he carefully removes your legs from his shoulders. 

His arousal grows as he takes in the state of you. Your dress only covers part of your midsection. You take in slow, heaving breaths that make your breasts jiggle. The movement enraptures your lover so easily. He settles back into the pillows and assesses you curiously. 

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” 

“Oh, again?” you gasp. 

Rin takes your hands in his and pulls you onto his lap. He nestles his cock back into you, and he admits with a flushed face “I’m in love with you. Of course I want to keep fucking you.” 

Rin doesn’t even give you a chance to tease him before he laces his hands with yours and pounds into you. He knows he can keep you quiet and wring one more climax out of you. 

You brace your hands on his and snap your hips down hard. Your vision goes white as you mindlessly fuck yourself on Rin’s dick. Your rhythm falters but Rin grabs your hips and bounces you in his lap. 

You’re certain you black out when he gathers your slick on his fingers and swipes at your trembling clit. Arousal squirts out of you and soaks Rin’s chest and pelvis. You scream and moan his name as you slump back against his bent knees, and Rin swears under his breath, hurriedly pulling his cock out of you. He fucks his hand furiously and rests his tip on the hood of your clit so he can cum in your pubic hair and on your chest. 

When your eyes meet, the air gets forced out of you completely. Rin’s eyes are mesmerizing. Like the darkest of nights, illuminated by thousands of distant stars. Once Rin realizes that you’ve been staring at him stare at you, he arranges you into the pillows and retreats to the bathroom. He returns with a washcloth to gently clean you up. Rin sweetly kisses along your hairline and at your temple as he does. You can’t keep your eyes off of him as he pulls the straps of your dress back into place. This is a side of him you’ve never encountered before, and it certainly has a heady effect on you. 

“Stop staring at me, creep,” Rin grunts. His face flushes hotly. “You said you were nervous for tomorrow. This helped you relax, didn’t it?”  

“Oh, no. Don’t make it seem like you did me a favor,” you laugh.  

Rin merely turns out the light. He pulls your chest into his, rests his chin in your hair. He rubs your shoulders soothingly, and you drag your fingers up and down the expanse of his back. You can feel where the skin is raised from your scratching and your breath hitches. You wonder if he’ll let you mark him up a second time. 

You’re only half awake when you hear Rin murmur “I like this dress on you.”  

You giggle sleepily against his chest and give him a sweet kiss in the center of it. 

“You really are easy.” 

As expected, Rin is holding you for dear life when you wake up only four hours later. He follows you into the shower when you eventually break away from him, though nothing untoward happens. Nothing too untoward, at least. He was generous enough to lather your body with soap but that’s all you allowed. 

He makes you both breakfast so you can run a mock presentation for him in the meantime. Rin offers insightful feedback as you eat together, and you feel a lot better about leading this on so little sleep.  

“Show those idiots why you deserve a promotion,” he says by way of wishing you good luck. 

“Thank you, love.” You kiss him goodbye and hurry through the door. But you stop short as your neighbor stands just on the other side; hand poised to ring the doorbell.  

“Holy. Shit. You’re alive.” Your heart plummets into your stomach. "I thought I heard you screaming last night, but I wasn’t too sure, you know? I really wanted to come check on you, but I didn’t want whatever got you to get me too. Just know I lost sleep over it.” 

You stand there in abject horror. Words, what are words? Say something! 

“Scary movie,” you supply lamely, and that seems to be enough explanation. 

“Oh, what a relief. I was so worried! I’ll catch you later.” 

You’re still frozen in shock when Rin saunters up behind you. He rests his head in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, kisses the skin there with his smirking lips. 

“You know what, you’re right,” he says in your ear, raising goosebumps all over you. “We should spend more time at your place.”  

[roosterforme]

Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.

Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry

Length: 11k words (what have I done?)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader

This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 

He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.

When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"

"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."

Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 

He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"

The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."

"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."

"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."

You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.

"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."

"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."

Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 

By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.

"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."

Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 

Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."

And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.

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

For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 

He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 

"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"

"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"

"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."

They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.

That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."

"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 

"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."

As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 

Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 

Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.

He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.

On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 

On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."

Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."

A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 

"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."

"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 

"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 

He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."

You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."

"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 

"Okay. Bob."

He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"

When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."

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

You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 

"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."

You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"

"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.

You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 

Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"

"Yes."

The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 

"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"

Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."

"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.

"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."

"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.

"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 

But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.

On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.

I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.

He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 

He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.

Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.

It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."

Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.

He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 

"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 

His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 

"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 

"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 

You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."

Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"

After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.

"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.

You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."

Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."

This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 

"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 

He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."

Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."

He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"

"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."

Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."

Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 

He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 

"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 

Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 

"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.

"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 

You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 

"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 

"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.

"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"

Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"

You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.

Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 

"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 

"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 

"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.

"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 

"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.

"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 

Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.

Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"

You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 

And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."

"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 

But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.

"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"

"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."

"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.

Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."

He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.

"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.

Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 

Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 

"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.

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

Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.

You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.

You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.

You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 

You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 

"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 

The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 

You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 

Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.

"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 

"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."

You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."

Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"

You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 

The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."

You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"

His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."

You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."

He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"

As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."

Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 

You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."

Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 

He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."

He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"

He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."

You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 

As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"

"Okay."

He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.

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

Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.

"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 

"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 

"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."

Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."

Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 

"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"

"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.

Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 

"Lieutenant Floyd."

He smiled softly. "Good morning."

"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.

You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"

He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."

Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."

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

You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.

"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 

"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 

The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."

His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 

Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.

You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 

"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.

"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 

You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."

When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 

Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.

You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"

At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.

"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.

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

It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 

"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."

You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"

He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."

The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."

Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 

As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 

Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"

He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."

"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.

He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 

You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."

It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."

"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."

Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.

He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."

Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."

He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"

You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"

"Yes." 

It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 

Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."

And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 

He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.

Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.

His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"

You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."

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

Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 

Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 

"Is it okay if I taste you?"

All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 

Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 

When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.

Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."

A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 

All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 

"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."

"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 

You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 

The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 

"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"

His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 

His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 

You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.

"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."

"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."

He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."

He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 

You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.

Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."

He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."

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

Six months later...

After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.

As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 

"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.

"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."

Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 

"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."

"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."

"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."

"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 

You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 

This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.

"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"

Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 

You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."

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

Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!

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[imwritingthefout]

after session hangout

basically you fall in love with the dm of your campaign in college: Ford pines, smut ensues

This is crossposted to ao3 so if you wanna go read it there, here’s the link:

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Waking up each day to the same old ceiling was starting to bore you. 

Ever since moving out of your parents house for college you felt like a stranger in the dorm you now called ‘home’, and It didn't help that you refused to decorate it. 

Getting out of your plain old bed, you stand up and push away the blinds with a tug, the light from the early morning sun blinding you temporarily. You glance down at your clock; 6:30am, thursday. The time isn't the part that excites you though, it's the day. Today is the day you look forward to all week: Dd&md day! 

You go to get ready for your morning class, excited for what the future of today may hold. You love dd&md, its been your favourite game since you were a child -even though you had no one to play it with back then, you got creative (no goat was harmed in your past attempts at playing the game).

Your classes went by in a blur. Of course you were taking notes and whatnot, it was important to pay attention! But in secret, you were drawing your character all over the side of your notebook and thinking of strategies on how to defeat the next dungeon your dm set up for you.

And then there was your dm. 

One of the many reasons you adored thursdays was because you got to play dd&md of course, but other than that there was another big reason you liked thursdays.

To put it plainly: your dm, Stanford Pines was Hot. like, capital H Hot. you couldn't get over his warm brown eyes that sparkled with passion whenever he detailed the characters he was playing. His hands that moved with his every word, adding to the description of the imaginary world he was building. God you wanted to feel those hands on you. What would they feel like, intertwined with your own, on your hips while he-

You decided to stop that train of thought. As much as you liked him, you also respected him enough to know that he would probably never feel that way towards you, and you shouldn't fantasise about him like that (even though it was hard not to).

And though he was Hot, that wasn't the only reason you liked him. You liked him because he was smart, compassionate, funny and so very cute.

What can you say? You had a thing for nerds.

As your last class of the day finished finished up, you quickly packed up your things and rushed to the old building next to the dorms that housed your favourite room in the whole campus: the old meeting room you guys used to house your dd&md sessions! 

The room wasn't glorious, it was just an old meeting room that's been out of use for years. But to you, that room was the home of your imagination. It held a special place in your heart, and you were sure it was the same for the rest of your party.

Speaking of which, you saw Fiddleford approach you down the old hallway, little puffs of dust kicking up with each of his steps. “Hey Fidds! You ready for today’s session?” you yelled to him slightly as he approached. “Ready as I'll ever be! You won't believe what I have planned in order to kick that sorcerer's butt!” he gave your shoulder a weak punch and opened the door with his key.

Usually, the old building was out of commission. But since Fiddleford knew a guy who works as campus security and convinced him to give him the key, you had full access to the building to do whatever you pleased. Of course for you, anything just means playing dd&md, not causing a mess and cleaning up after yourselves as much as possible in order to not inconvenience anyone. You knew that other people your age would throw huge parties and wreck the place, but you weren't that kind of person, really. You just liked having a quiet place to play your games and hang out with your friends. Fiddleford was like that too, that's how he got the key in the first place; because his friend trusted him not to mess up the place.

As you walked inside, you saw the table set out just how you guys left it last week: the long rectangular table set up in the middle of the room, with seven chairs set out all around the table, one for each player and one for your dm. A whiteboard behind the dm’s seat that shows the map of the fantasy world you are currently in the middle of exploring, and cork board on another wall with a bunch of graph paper pinned to it.

You walk around the table, taking your regular seat across from Fiddleford. “So what do you think Ford's planning for this session?” you ask Fidds. This is your usual routine: get to the building early, wait for Fidds and ask him if he has any intel for the session since his roommate is Ford. “like usual, i can’t tell you, it'll ruin the fun!” Fidds exclaimed, although the grin on his face told you he likes this familiar back and forth. 

You eased into a casual conversation from there, talking about your days as you waited for everyone else. You liked coming early because then you had more time to talk with Fidds and, of course, with Ford.

You met Fidds on the first day of the semester, when you sat next to each other in the freshman orientation presentation, and hit it off from there. you became friends rather quickly, bonding over the fact that you were both far away from home with no friends in town. You decided to help him move into his dorm after the presentation, and that's when you met Ford.

At first, you were a bit speechless at the guy in front of you. His outfit was the usual scholar's outfit of a white button up shirt with a brown vest on top, but then he was wearing jeans in order to look more ‘casual’ as he put it. His hair was neat and tidy and his glasses framed his face perfectly, at least in your opinion. You introduced yourself awkwardly, and once he introduced himself as Stanford Pines, a parapsychology major with aspirations for 12 phd’s in the next five years, you knew you were in over your head. You can't have a crush on a super-genius! What if he turns out to be an arrogant asshole? But you couldn't help developing feelings for him as you got closer. He wasn't just a super-genius, he was also kind and compassionate, understanding and just a good friend. That's when you decided to just stay friends with Ford, you couldn't afford to lose such a good friend.

Speaking of which, the man himself comes into the room, holding a stack of books detailing the rules and monsters of dd&md, a satin sack full of dice and his dm screen. You can barely see his face behind all of the things he's carrying, and immediately you jump up to help him carry everything. He silently thanks you for the help and starts setting his stuff up while you go back to your seat. “Hey guys, how've you been since last week?” Ford asks you two. “Oh i've been well, you know. Dealing with you every day can be challenging but I manage somehow” Fidds says dramatically and you stifle a giggle. Ford gives Fidds a death glare before turning to you “and how are you?” he asks with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I'm good!” you proclaim a little too loudly and cough to hide your blush “yes i'm good, just the usual classes and such” you say in a normal voice (or at least what you hope is a normal voice, it doesn't help that Fidds looks at you cheekily, already knowing your secret crush on his roomate) “how have you been?” you ask him. 

“Just the usual: doing homework, studying and building up today’s session” you catch on to the last part as a potential way to continue the conversation. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”. “Oh come on now, it wouldn't be fun to just spoil the game for you, would it?” he says and points to you to emphasise his point. “You can't even give us an outline? Something?” you pout a little and Ford gives in “fine… I may have something up my sleeve for today, and I can guarantee you won't see it coming this time! That's all I'm going to say for now though” he jabs his finger at you, trying to seem angry that you caught onto his plans last time, but his little smile gives him away. 

Soon your other party members start filing in and you all start the session. 

It goes as usual, you all mess around for a bit before getting serious. You can confidently say you saw the twist Ford put in this session coming, it was obvious how the wizard was actually a party member’s son, they had so many similarities! After another successful session, everyone leaves for their respective houses, leaving you, Fidds and Ford alone in the room to clean up.

“I can't believe you saw that coming again! I swear you're like a sorcerer in real life” Ford chuckles and Fidds adds “that would also explain how you get here before me every time! I swear I ran to get here today and you still beat me here!” “well what can i say guys? I'm just magical in every way!” you strike a silly but confident pose as Ford and Fidds laugh at your antics. “Oh shoot! I promised my friend i’d go on a blind date today, could you guys lock up this time? Ford you can just give me the keys tomorrow morning if i get lucky” Fidds winks and Ford rolls his eyes “alright, we get it, you can go”. Fidds leaves the keys on the desk and almost sprints out of the room.

You and Ford clean up the mess on the desk in silence before Ford decides to break it “how do you keep predicting my twists anyways? I swear it was supposed to come out of nowhere but you're too smart” you blush a little at the compliment “thank you, i guess i’m just good at guessing twists. But you do make it kind of easy. I mean, a secret relative of someone close? It’s kind of a cliche don't you think?” he pulls at the collar of his button up shirt and you can immediately tell something is wrong.

“Yeah.. I guess it is kind of cliche, but it's what fits the character, don't you think?” he says with a guilty tone. “Ford, what's wrong? I feel like you're hiding something” you get close enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder “you can tell me anything, i wont judge” you add, trying to coax him into telling you what's wrong.

“Well… I guess I brought the secret relative from my own life because… well… I have a twin brother….” the sentence doesn’t completely shock you, but it is still somewhat of a surprise “why do you never mention him? Did something happen between you two?” he chuckles a bit before saying “still as perceptive as ever, huh?” you blush a bit as he continues, looking out into the middle distance in thought

“Me and my brother were really close when we were young, we would do everything together. But as time went on, we grew apart. He didn't like the fact that I wanted to go away to a fancy college, especially because he knew he couldn't follow me there. I was working on a machine to impress the college, but on the day of the showing it stopped working. My own brother sabotaged my future. We had a big falling out over it and that’s why I'm here instead….” you empathised with Ford, but you couldn't help but question some things about his story.

“I know it must have been hard to deal with the fact you lost your ticket to the college of your dreams, but do you really believe your brother would sabotage you? If he loves you, wouldn't he want to support you? Maybe it was an accident and he didn't mean to destroy your project?” Ford looks lost in thought again before replying “i… it's foolish but i never thought of it that way…” he looks at you with thankfulness in his eyes and you can't help but smile up at him “you should maybe sort this out with him? Talk to him about what actually happened and if he meant to hurt you?” 

“God you're right… Thank you! This changes everything! I'm so glad I could just kiss you!” 

….

It takes him a second to realise what he said and blush at the thought of actually kissing you. You just stare at him dumbly for a second until your brain processes what he said.

He wants to kiss you?

Well this took a turn for the better.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask him with hope in your eyes

“Well… yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t i? Look at you” he finds that it's suddenly very important you understand how much he wants to kiss you. “Wow… i- i didn't know you felt the same…” you say softly and look down. He says your name and puts his hand on your cheek and lifts up your face to meet his eyes “i like you. More than as a friend. Would you… let me kiss you?” he looks at you nervously for a moment before you close the gap between you two and kiss him yourself.

The kiss feels electrifying. As your soft lips meet his you put your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You realise he smells exactly how you thought he would; of old books and aftershave. His hands find your waist and rub gentle circles with his thumbs into your skin. You pull away after a little and touch your forehead with his “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that” you whisper gently.

“Me too” and he goes back to kissing you, this time he takes the lead. You tighten yourself around him until your chests meet, his hands move down to your hips and he pulls you onto his lap in one swoop. You gently bite his lip as he groans into your open lips. He then moves down to kiss from your jaw to your neck, leaving the occasional love bite. You sigh at his bites until he gets to your collarbones. “Do you…. Want to do this?” he breathes the question against your skin, the feeling of him against you makes you shudder. “Yes. im sure”. He straightens up from excitement and goes back to kissing you collarbone, now more eager than ever as his hands travel past the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Meanwhile your hands go down to feel him underneath you.

“Someone is excited” you smirk as he breaths heavily against you. 

“Very” his response falls heavy against you as he unclasps your bra (with only a little bit of a struggle) and his hands move to massage your breasts. You moan as he pinches your nipples in between his fingers. You lower your head to bite at his shoulder to stifle another moan from falling out of your lips- “No” he says and moves his shoulder to get you to stop muffling your sounds. “I want to hear you”. The thought of him wanting to hear you like this makes you blush and sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine. “Y-yes’’ 

You intend to start massaging him through his pants but he beats you to it, moving his hand down into your pants. You help him take off your pants and underwear (with a lot of struggle because of your position) and he suddenly picks you up and places you on the table. The cold desk underneath you only adds to the pleasure as he caresses your side before moving his hand down to finally touch you. 

His hand caresses your folds and feels how wet you are, and you moan from the feeling of his thick fingers on your sensitive skin. “Damn, you feel so good” he whimpers at how you feel before kissing your breasts and plunging his index finger inside you. “A-ah~” you sigh as he moves his hand so his thumb is circling your clit. 

He continues pumping his finger inside of you for a second before adding a second one and speeding up the pace. If he continues like this you wont last long. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he stops and goes down onto his knees, his face in front of your core. “Can I please taste you?” he asks innocently, as if his request isn't the most dirty thing you've heard him say. Thinking about it makes you even more aroused -if that's even possible at this point- and you hastily agree.

Not even a second after he sees you nod does he jump into your pussy, his tongue plunging into you and licking you from the inside. His nose bumps into your clit as he moves to taste and lick you even more. Your breath hitches and you moan loudly as he begins sucking at your clit, toying and teasing it with his tongue. “Please F-Ford” you manage to say in between moans. He groans against you and the vibrations send a wave of pleasure through you.

He suddenly brings his fingers back into you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you that sends you over the edge. 

You briefly hear him let out a broken “Fu-uck” as your orgasm ripples through you in waves. Ford helps you ride out your high as he continues fingering you and licking at your clit. You have to push him off of you as it becomes too overstimulating

You try to pull him up to his knees, but he seems embarrassed by something. He looks up at you with his chin and nose glistening from your wetness, a guilty smile on his lips and his glasses fogged up and crooked. You then look down and notice it. A wet spot against his jeans

oh.

He got off on pleasuring you. He turned into a mess from just tasting you, feeling you on his lips and fingers. “That's the hottest thing i've ever seen” you say suddenly and lean down to kiss him passionately. He pulls away “really? You think so?” he looks at you in shock. “Yes! Now let me kiss you” you bring him up and kiss him passionately. He takes the hint, grabs at your hips and grunts. You can feel him already hardening again so you pull at his belt and pull down his pants and underwear. You softly grab him and start moving your hand up and down as he whimpers against your lips. You bring up your hand and spit onto it in order to create less friction when touching him.

“Please Ford- fuck me” you moan into his ear and he leans his head back in pleasure. “But i don't have-” you cut him off “there's some condoms in the front pocket of my bag, please” you emphasise your point by giving his cock another stroke. This seems to fuel him on to run to your bag and get the condom. He opens the packet and rolls it onto his member. He rubs his cock against your folds to collect your juices and as his head rubs against your oversensitive clit you moan. “Please put it inside” you hold onto his shoulders as he follows your request and pushes his tip in slowly.

He slowly pushes himself inside you until he's bottomed out inside you and you both groan. You move your hips experimentally and he whimpers at the feeling of you around him. He slowly starts to pull out and then thrusts back in with a moan of your name. You dig your fingers into the soft skin of his shoulders as he continues thrusting inside of you slowly. 

He continues gently until you decide to whisper in his ear something that changes his attitude completely “harder- please~”. He understands the message and suddenly picks you up and flips you around -while still inside of you- and bends you over the table. You moan at the sudden change of positions but you have no time to get used to it as he starts thrusting into you at a killer pace. He moves his hips sharply into you, with an almost mechanical pace as he pushes your chest onto the table with his broad torso. You can't help the sounds you let out each time he hits that deep spot inside of you. He grunts into your ear at each thrust and it makes your eyes water from all the pleasure.

You're suddenly pushed over the edge for the second time when he wraps his hand around your body and starts playing with you clit. You scream his name as you cum around his cock. His pace stutters a bit and he curses in your ear as he cums too for the second time.

He slowly eases you both down with some gentler thrusts and then exits out of you with a sensual pop. 

You lay down for a little while with your ass out before you gather some strength to get up. As soon as you do, your legs start to shake and Ford catches you in his arms and chuckles a bit with pride. “So…. did you like that?”  

You dead-pan him and say “no. i didn't like that. Of course I liked that you doofus!” he laughs a bit and kisses you again. “I just wanted to make sure!” he says against your lips. You giggle and pull him even closer “well, i enjoyed that a lot” you give him a small peck on the nose and then pull away to put your clothes back on. He disposes of the condom and goes to put on his pants but pauses. “I can't go out with a wet spot on my pants…. What should I do?” he looks terrified at the thought of walking around campus like that.

“Don't worry, i always carry an extra sweatshirt around in case the ac is too much in class” you laugh as he looks at you like you just saved his life “you are an angel!” he comes up to you and kisses you again before going back to putting on his pants. You hand him the sweatshirt and he ties it around his waist in order to hide the evidence of what happened.

He then comes up to you and hugs you. “You know i meant what i said, right? About liking you” you blush and then respond “i meant what i said too”

“Then can this not be a one time thing? I want to -if you’d want of course, there's no pressure if you don't want to do anything more than what happened today but-” you cut him off to spare him from rambling even more “i’d like to go on a date with you, Ford. i want to go out with you and be with you” he sighs with relief. “Great! Are you free tomorrow?” you check your calendar “yeah i should be- do you want to meet up?” 

“I would love that” he kisses your forehead before picking up your bag and the keys to the room.

You go out but as Ford locks the door, he realises something.

“Why do you have condoms in your bag?”

You immediately flush a deep red as you remember the fact that after first meeting him, your horney brain convinced you to put some condoms in your bag. ‘Just in case something happens’ you thought to yourself

“No reason” you yelp out and pull at his bicep so he continues walking and change the subject.

He chuckles at your antics but goes along with you.

He’ll just have to ask another time.

[zo2mess]

Bliss In Vegas

Summary: The team landed a mission in Las Vegas, because what could possibly go wrong in the world’s most innocent city, right? Fast forward through a whirlwind of chaos, and somehow no one got hurt… but you woke up in bed with Adrian, nearly naked, and two ring pops on your fingers.

Warnings: 18+ Brief smut, hand stuff, spit stuff, alcohol consumption, crude language, I guess that’s it? (Morning breath! I’m so fucking sorry, it was all I could think about when I was writing this. Just ignore it exists for a while O_o)

Word count: 4.4k

Masterlist of my works

Note: Adrian in tighty whities with beer all over him made me incredibly feral and ready to finish this little thing I started a few months ago. Eh, it is something I guess? I just wanted to get over it.

And listen, I have never written about any of the other 11th Street Kids before, except for Adrian; apologies if any of them feel weird.

You know the saying? What happens in Vegas…

“Don’t stay in Vegas,” Harcourt sternly noted at the end of her little briefing of the next so-called mission. The fact that they still needed to take care of some stray swarms of butterflies even after terminating the cow was inconvenient, said mildly. “We do our job and go back, no random stops in any of the facilities.”

Those butterfly survivors would eventually die of starvation, but ARGUS was suspicious of large groupings of them in certain areas. They could be spending their last days together as a species, or maybe, just maybe, they’re trying to find a way to stay alive and find a new source of food, which was a dangerous idea.

One of those groups was flying free between casinos and strip clubs in Vegas, Nevada. Really troublesome area to be sending this team. It was practically screaming disaster.

“Why are they sending us? I thought we were done!” Leota protested, exchanging a questioning look with John who was in the same shock as her. Vegas was way out of hand and the last thing she wanted was to spend time away from her wife and furbabies.

“The official reason is that we are now experts on butterflies when it comes to terminating them-“

“The real reason is that we are seriously underpaid and we’re a cheap workforce” Economos interrupted Harcourt in a matter of seconds, saying the real reason for the little trip awaiting you.

Chris with Adrian, on the other hand, were doing their best not to let anyone know how excited they were. You could feel Adrian vibrating out of his skin next to you. No doubt he was already thinking how he and Peacemaker will stop crime, get wasted, and cruise some bitches. The real question was how they would break free from Harcourt's gaze and go astray. “Wait, you guys are getting paid?”

One way or another, this outing in Vegas was bound to be legendary.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The whole mission felt like a dream, after shooting up butterflies it was already too late to be driving back home, so Harcourt allowed crashing at a hotel until morning. You would think everyone felt like you, exhausted after the long trip and crashing little alien bugs, but no.

Chris and Adrian were pretty much excited to be hitting the town, and a person would think Adrian would at least clean his boots that still had alien goo all over them after he cheerily stomped on butterflies all day.

It wasn’t just the casinos, bars, and strip clubs waiting to strip lost souls of all their money. On the lit-up alleys, lined up were hustlers with classic shell games, women imitating peacocks adorned with faux gold and feathers, shady watch sellers, and more or less inconspicuous pickpockets. And just like tigers in a zoo, it was best to simply watch them pacing impatiently in circles—but anyone who sticks their hand into the enclosure quickly loses it.

All these predators, performing various tricks to catch their prey, prove once and for all that human creativity and the desire for money know no bounds.

In the end, you could not just lie in your hotel bed when Las Vegas was right on the other side of your window, teasing and luring with colorful blinding lights and loud music playing from every corner, the better side of Vegas. Plus the second Adrian put on his puppy eyes and whiny begging tone you were a goner.

How could you say no?

And that was the beginning of the most memorable night you did not remember.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

When you stirred awake you felt too hot and cold at the same time, head pounding and the ringing in your ears didn’t make it easier to open your eyes. The strongest hangover you ever had was making itself known, though hangovers usually don’t make you feel you are being pushed into the mattress and making your hand sweaty?

No, no, that wasn’t sweat, was it?

The morning sun shining into the hotel room immediately blinded you when you tried to open your eyes, but you managed to at least get a look at what was causing at least half of your discomfort.

Adrian.

Nearly naked Adrian lying on top of you.

Adrian that was drooling all over your fingers as he sucked on the ring pop on your finger from his sleep.

What?

His frame completely enveloped your body, transferring his body heat to you and making you feel breathless. Adrian lounged in just his boxers and once you looked around your room you found piles of clothes all over the small cheap hotel room.

His jeans on the ground, glasses on the bedside table, His holey socks hanging from the edge of the bed with… your top and jeans? Then whose shirt were you wearing?

Adrian’s room was right next to you, why was he sleeping in your bed?

Too many questions, too little answers.

You tried to gently ease Adrian from your body and roll him to the side, but goddamn, was he heavy. You could try again and again and he just wouldn’t budge.

He groaned from his sleep because of your constant nagging but he didn’t move an inch, at least he stopped sucking on the lollipop, “Stop wiggling, I’m gonna get a boner”. Gods, how could his voice sound so raspy and whiny at the same time?

“Adrian! What are you doing here?” you slapped his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up, which finally worked, he lifted his head while he just barely opened his eyes, blinking away the blurriness of his vision. Those half-lidded green eyes and tousled hair did something for you, it was hard to admit it though.

“I would be sleeping if you weren’t slapping me and making my cock hard” He mumbled nonchalantly and settled back on your chest, nuzzling to your boobs like it was the most normal thing to do. “Your tits are amazing pillow, you know that?”

Another slap. Another yelp from Adrian.

Under different circumstances, you would have enjoyed cuddling with Adrian, it’s not like you were completely resistant to his charm, or whatever that illuminates him, which makes him so enamoring.

But not right now, not when you had no idea how you got to bed, how he got in your bed, why you were almost naked, when your head was pounding, and also…

Why did you both have ring pops on your fingers?

You didn’t notice it at first, but once you did, it made gears in your head turn really hard to put one and one together. You took his hand in yours, studying his blue raspberry ring pop and comparing it to your strawberry one, but other than the fact yours was way smaller and wet from Adrian’s constant sucking, nothing stood out.

And Adrian didn’t even notice something was on his finger until you lifted his hand. Unbothered king. He was getting on the rest of your nerves that remained after the wild night.

“Oh my god! Twinsies!” How was he so cheery in the morning? He must have drunk a similar amount of alcohol as you did, but it seems his body doesn’t believe in hangovers.

When you started pushing him from your body again, he finally rolled off onto his back with a loud huff. What a way to wake up, hangover in a Vegas hotel. The only thing missing was an Elvis impersonator singing under the balcony. ‘Thank you, thank you’ he would mumble with that deep voice as you would throw a few cents at him.

Adrian laid still extremely close to you, shoulders touching and all, and stared at the ceiling with a dumb smile on his face while you were panicking next to him. How did this happen?

“Do you remember anything?”

“Nope.”

“Aren’t you concerned?”

“Nope.”

“Do you think we fucked?”

“Nah, you would have felt it.”

“You mean with that thimble of yours?”

He just snorted, tilting his head to the side to laugh right in your face. You didn't even have the energy to question what was so amusing about his thimble dick. But for that moment of Adrian laughing at you for no apparent reason, it felt like a normal day. Like you were back at HQ, relaxing on one of the worn-out couches with Adrian in his armor beside you, chatting about something ridiculous while polishing his knives and rolling his head to look at you, trying not to smile.

However, it all vanished away when Adrian lifted and knelt on the bed and a bunch of casino chips started falling from his boxers. Chip after chip pooling around his thick thighs. And it looked like he was surprised in the same way you were.

The right question would probably be why he stored his wins in underwear, second, why he went to sleep with them, and the third one…

“How did you win so much?”

“My brother taught me how to count cards, it’s really easy once you get the hang of it. But that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is that I need to exchange these crotch doubloons for real money,” He collected his chips and started admiring them in the morning light shining directly at him. “I am gonna be so rich, dude.”

Those little coins with fluorescent details flooded the room with colorful reflections. Spots of blue, green, red and pink decorated the furniture as well as your skin. If your skin wasn’t already buzzing from Adrian’s touch, you would be able to imagine the light tickling you.

“Come on, we’re going to get even more drunk to celebrate me being a fucking millionaire,” Adrian’s face lit up, what a fucking sunshine, you wanted to punch him in the face when he grabbed the blanket shielding your lower body from his greedy eyes. The cold air in the room was relentless, enveloping your body and leaving goosebumps in its wake. You could not get a break with the dumbass.

“Goddamn, do you wear this pathetic excuse for panties under your suit?” Adrian let out a wolf whistle and stared right between your legs without any shame. “You should have told me that sooner!”

Your panties? What was wrong with them?

One blurry look down and you know exactly what was wrong. “Those are not my panties.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t have white lace panties.”

“Wait, wait,” Adrian leaned extremely close to your crotch, examining the red embroidery that decorated the hem of mystery underwear. “Here it says… Congratulations to the happy couple from Bliss wedding chapel.”

“Say what?” Your eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets. The embroidery was a sign of something horribly dooming. White panties from the wedding chapel really weren’t a good thing for someone who did not intend to get married. And oh, the horror of wearing something gifted from a drive-through wedding chapel.

“What,” Adrian replied to your shocked words with a confused look. It seemed like he did not realize what it meant. Either that or he didn’t care at all about being married to his colleague.

“Ade, are you even registering what that means?” It was like your heart dropped down to your stomach. Did it mean what you thought it did? Were you fucking married? In Vegas? And without remembering anything?

“Oh my god, are you my wife?” He lifted from between your legs, which was fucking painful thing to do when the thing he wanted the most was to be buried between them. His face weirdly lit up, unclear if with shock or happiness, “Am I your husband?”

“No, that must be some misunderstanding, right?” You jolted up, scrambling out of bed with a bunch of uncoordinated jerks of limbs. It was a miracle you hadn’t fallen right on your face. Damn those sweet juicy drinks that weaken your brain!

“We need to talk with others, they must know something, right?” You were more or less talking to yourself, babbling how it is impossible you got married with freaking Adrian Chase without remembering anything.

Adrian was still too absorbed in those chips on the bed and the ring pop on your fingers. One of his focuses meant he won money, the other that he was married, and the third, pretty, pretty thing in front of him was his wife. He completely ignored your panic, it was whatever.

He never was the kind to believe in fate, but goddamn, he must have done something really good to get all of this in one night.

“Ade, are you listening to me?” You almost touched those chips, fingers mere inches away, before you realized that Adrian had these shiny knick-knacks stashed away in his boxers the whole night. Your hand hovered above them, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Adrian watched you with a dumb smile, “Are you afraid of my crotch doubloons?”

“I don’t want to touch something that was near your dick” As simple as that, did he think it was normal?

“So you’re afraid of my dick” His smile widened with every word, he had that stupid expression on his face you still couldn’t look through. You had wondered several times what was going through his mind at those moments when his face twisted maliciously.

“I’m not afraid of your dick, Adrian.”

“Then touch it.”

“Why would I be touching your dick?”

“To prove you’re not a coward.” That stupid face was literally asking to be punched, but would that help your case? He looked abnormally good when he was hurt. “Plus, if we are married, we should consummate the marriage, right?”

“We’re not in the Middle Ages, Ade, we’re not married and I’m too hungover anyways”

Adrian noted in his mind that you didn’t say no because you didn’t like him outright, you said you had a hangover. This could mean two things; That you didn’t like him and hid it behind a lame excuse of drinking too much yesterday, or that you were actually hangover but did like him.

That must be the case. At least he hoped.

All this time, he was hoping you might get the hint that he liked you. He tried to be discreet, sending small signs like he saw in movies and read on Wikihow.

Make eye contact, look down, hold, slowly look back, look away, soft smile, scratch your neck, lick your lips, make eye contact again, wink…

And all this time you thought he was cursing you across the room when he tried this in team debriefings.

Being discreet was so unlike him, but he hoped it might seem normal, not like his usual attempts at flirting. And that was the problem. Adrian Chase, a guy desperate to share his every thought, sending subtle signs? Who could have caught that? Not you, that’s for certain.

“I mean… What is a hangover anyway? It’s when alcohol levels in your body drop to zero after heavy drinking. And one way to remedy that is drinking more,” He knew way too much for his own good, though after multiple horrible hangovers, he needed to know what was happening to him.

“Maybe if you finally got laid you wouldn’t be so cranky all the time, it's like a hangover” He finished his speech with a look that screamed anything but innocent.

Your blood suddenly grew hot, how dare he say you don’t have any game? Your hand shot up between his legs, touching him just like he dared you.

You fell right into a trap.

Say what you want about Adrian, he was stupid but not dumb. He hunts down criminals, he must know a thing or two how to trap his victim, how to get what he wants. Right now, he got you right he wanted. On a hotel bed, dressed just in his shirt and wedding panties and your hand on his dick.

Lucky bastard.

And you… You were a lucky bastard in a way too.

You could fondle his cock any way you wanted. This image haunted your dreams more than once. And what fool would you be if you didn’t take that chance.

Though the surprised look on your face was not something you imagined, when you got a good feel of Adrian ‘Thimble’ Chase. He was already semi-hard, and it made you wonder what caused it. Was it when you were nudging him in his sleep? Or when his nose caught a whiff of you while reading your underwear testament?

Maybe you would have to spread the word that your now husband was Mr. Definitely not Thimble.

You began running your hand up and down over him, slowly but surely making him even harder than he was. Adrian managed to keep his wide and confident smile just for few seconds. One gentle squeeze on his base, one swipe of your thumb over his covered tip, and he was a goner. His sparkling eyes fluttered closed, and this time, when he licked his lips, it didn’t look like he was licking away sauce from pasta at Fennel Fields.

While his hips gently rutted further into your touch, his hands shot to your hips. Strangely, he was slick with his touches, before you even knew it, his fingers were running under the sides of your white lace panties, just oh so desperate to feel your soft skin without anything else in the way.

“Is my tongue still red?” Adrian asked before sticking his tongue out, baring the surface of his tongue colored in deep red. What a weird question to be asking when you’re getting your dick fondled, though at this point you shouldn’t be surprised.

“Still very much red, why are you asking now?”

Adrian just grinned and eyed you up like a predator. Something was stirring in his mind.

Before you could ask him for the meaning of his question again, he lifted his hand with the big ring pop on his finger and pushed it into your mouth.

The second flavor of blue raspberry burst on your tongue you couldn’t blame him for sucking on your ring pop all night and drooling on your fingers.

While you enjoyed the artificial taste coating your taste buds, Adrian stared at you with a slack jaw and soft whimpers falling from his mouth. “Fuck, I wish you were sucking me like that”

Suddenly, he pulled away his hand, making you whine at the loss of your lolly. It didn’t take long before you had something else to focus on with your mouth though.

He practically lunged at you with his lips, pressing them against yours and setting a pace too fast for your sluggish mind. Adrian’s tongue demanded entrance in your mouth and before you could even register what he wanted, he was pulling at your chin, opening up your mouth for his wandering tongue.

You desperately wanted to match his frenzied pace, it was all too much and yet so good.

Adrian didn’t lick around your mouth like you would have expected, no, quite the opposite. He flattened his tongue over yours, making sure surfaces painted in red and blue brushed against each other.

Oh, so that’s what he was doing…

He wanted to combine them. Red and blue create purple. It would be a beautiful symbol for your new, and very very strange, marriage. Purple can, among other things, symbolize mystery, exactly that clouded over last night. It was still a mystery how you two ended up together. Did it matter anyway?

In the end, he was licking into your mouth like a dog. Panting like one, too.

When he pulled away from the kiss, a string of spit connected your swollen lips. Stretching, stretching, and stretching until it broke and landed on both of your chins. As you were reaching to wipe it off Adrian latched his lips onto your chin with unseen eagerness. The main idea was to help you with the excessive saliva, though he only made it worse.

He trailed open-mouthed kisses from your chin, across jaw, over cheeks, and ended by your ear, “Should I prove I’m not afraid of your pussy?” He whispered before licking the shell of your ear. One of his hands trailed the ring pop over your arm, leaving a sticky trail, while the other began prying between your legs.

“Wow, look at that,” He dared to chuckle after he slipped his fingers under the crotch of your panties, feeling your heat for the first time. You believed Adrian would comment on how wet you were for him, for Vigilante. But no, of course not.

“Your pussy doesn’t have teeth like I thought it would!”

And at that moment you promised yourself you will kill him right after he makes you cum. Not sooner nor later. As a simple warning, you tightened your grip you had on him over the boxers that were, much to your surprise, already stained with precum.

Let’s see how happy Adrian will be when he realizes his wife is a praying mantis in disguise.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

You didn’t bite Adrian’s head off after all, he looked too cute after you made him finish in his underwear. That boyish grin, puffy lips wet with your cum after he licked his fingers off with proud bravado, lively eyes that shined almost the same way as his casino chips…

No, you might just keep him a bit longer.

At least he stopped with his nagging while you took a shower together and dressed in clean clothes. All this time, Adrian watched you like a lost puppy, begging for affection. Each time you gave him a chaste kiss, he stopped whining for a mere second.

While Adrian was hungry for more kisses, and undoubtedly something more, you were actually hungry for some food and coffee or green tea to get you going for the day. So you made your way to the hotel’s small dining room.

Adrian threw all his casino chips on the table between breakfast plates and mugs, they clinked against the ceramics almost too loudly for your poor pounding head.

Everyone’s eyes fell on shiny colorful chips, Leota put down her butter bread so she could reach for them, thankfully you grabbed her wrist right before she could get her fingers on the chip lying next to her plate “Don’t touch that.”

She shot you a questioning look but trusted your judgment. No need to tell her where these chips were, especially if they were in the middle of the table and too close to food.

“Did I get married to Adrian yesterday?” You asked without any humor in your voice, eyes flickering between every single one of those guilty faces of your colleagues. Adrian, though, did not care at all about this little investigation. He was too blissful with married life to even question it.

“It was one of the weirdest ceremonies I have ever seen,” Leota cracked first, “You didn’t even want me as your bridesmaid! You chose John!”

Your eyes landed on Economos, sipping his coffee to hide from you, “I did my duty well” was all he added.

Then you took a good look at others, Harcourt kept staring forward, digging her fork in some scrambled eggs. Chris, on the other hand, was already showing Adrian photos on his phone and Adrian was smiling widely, pointing out small details from your wedding and muttering how beautiful you looked, wearing cheap-looking veil you rented and holding a bottle of vodka instead of a wedding bouquet.

You joined him, and all that anger and confusion blurred for a brief moment. You looked happy in those photos. Laughing, chatting, eyes sparkling like they haven’t for a while. Every single photo was suddenly so precious.

Those were your lost memories.

And the way you were holding onto Adrian, so tightly and lovingly… All those small details didn’t escape either of you. Adrian nudged you with his elbow “We look good together”.

And you did. You really did.

Flushed, drunk, happy.

With the promise of the team explaining on the way home, you dropped your investigation of last night and settled to finally have some breakfast. Both you and Adrian get the leftovers in the form of yogurt. “Snoozers losers,” Chris added.

It was like you and Adrian had already synchronized, peeling the lid off, and licking some leftover yogurt at the same time. And in the meantime, everyone around the table could get a pretty good look at your purple tongues.

“See?! See that?” Chris called out way too loudly while pointing at you, “Did you stick your dick in her?”

You nearly choked on your own saliva at that question. Who even asks that? Especially during hotel breakfast? Some people from other tables turned around when they heard it, eager to know what the hell was going on.

But Adrian smiled, lifted his hand and wiggled his digits “Just my fingers.”

A symphony of disgusted noises came from your team, suddenly your yoghurt didn’t look as appealing as it should. But hey, maybe there will be a time when you won’t be able to eat yoghurt without thinking of Adrian and his-

“I made sure the guy marrying you didn’t have a license for it to be legitimate,” Harcourt finally spoke up, much to the dismay of the rest of the team.

“Which was a fucking mistake! You know how hilarious it would be if these two goons were married for real?” Chris chimed in with a booming laugh just from the idea of the night of the outing ending in one happy couple, drunk out of their minds.

Weight dropped from your shoulders upon hearing you weren’t married for real to Vigilante over there. It was like the air finally cleared, and you could take a deep breath of that crisp morning air. You caught Adrian doing the same, sighing in relief.

But if you were for real, it also stung a little. Somehow, while you made your way to breakfast earlier, you already started planning what to do next. Who will move to whom, when you should go and change your name on your ID to Chase, if you should get rid of your coffee machine so Adrian wouldn’t have too much disposal of caffeine…

While you were lost in your head, thinking whenever you were actually happy or sad the dumbass next to you wasn't your partner for real, Adrian simply leaned closer to you and whispered with that dopey smile, “It’s fine. Next time I’ll be marrying you, I want to remember it.”

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations- 38

Aries suns with Scorpio moons can be big adrenaline junkies. They need to do something dangerous that makes them feel alive. They can be extreme sometimes such as fast driving, mixing substances ect. They don’t feel like they’re living if they aren’t experiencing enough intensity. They should learn to focus this energy in healthier ways such as maybe exercising and sports.

Pisces Mercury’s often did art to express their emotions when younger. I’ve seen Pisces Mercurys who struggled to logically explain how they feel so they would draw or make crafts to show what they were feeling. Their emotions a lot of the times are too complex and intense to explain with only words. They work better with visuals. They could’ve also been better visual learners compared to people giving straightforward instructions when in a classroom setting (they are usually very imaginative).

Mars in Scorpios can have a hard time keeping friends and partners because of how intense they can be. When hurt they can say some really scary fucked up things that can make people want to distance themselves away. ESPECIALLY when they get jealous. They can be super cut throat with their words.

Taurus Venus’s usually came from households where they were exposed to really good food. Either they had enough money in their childhoods to afford high quality ingredients or they came from a family who cooked a lot. This can cause them to be natural cooks themselves. Usually indulged a lot as a child.

Aquarius suns either give IT girl/boy too cool for you vibes or they’re complete weirdos with a school shooter vibe no in between.

I believe Taurus suns are way more jealous than Scorpio suns

Leo moons tend to be the most awkward Leo placement. They have this dorkiness about them which most people don’t expect but I’ve seen it a lot. They can also be very childishly dramatic about very minor problems. Any little inconvenience is seen as a tragedy. However they usually are extremely talented in one area (usually art related) I’ve seen a lot of musicians and drama kids have this placement.

I’d love to have a Sagittarius moon yall seem like you generally don’t give a f*ck what people think and I’m here for it. Such a happy moon sign. However your good vibes 24/7 attitude can make others believe you’re insensitive or shallow.

I notice a lack of fire in the chart can cause a person to go into depression easier. It’s harder to be optimistic.

Venus in 2nd house isn’t just about being rich it also has to do with self esteem as well! When these people are really on the right path they can live such a favorable life! These are the girls you see on YouTube who’s morning routine is waking up at 6, eating a balanced breakfast, moisturize and exfoliate and exercise all before 8 lmao. Usually they don’t start making good money until they fix their self worth but once they do it’s like they flow with the universe without much obstacles. But when struggling with your self esteem you can become bad with your money and be very greedy and jealous of others success so be careful!

Venus in 7th house people are so lucky with relationships. It’s like they just slide into romantic relationships so easily & naturally. So many people want to cuff them up it’s insane. They tend to get along with a lot of different personalities. Very diverse people which attracts people to them like magnets. However, they can be very codependent and do poorly when alone.

Pisces suns are either extremely wise or super foolish and immature. They also always look like they don’t know what’s going on whether they actually do or really don’t😭 even if they are listening to everything your saying it looks like they have nothing going on in their minds like they got a lobotomy lmao (sometimes tho they really don’t know what’s going on, especially Pisces mercs)

Mercury in Capricorns are normally super smart. Street wise and book wise. They can come off as intimidating tho sometimes because of how intelligent they come off. They also have a vibe that can lowkey make people feel unwelcome like you’re too dumb to talk to them💀 (similar to cap risings). They tend to surround themselves with people older/more mature than them they can really get put off but younger acting energies.

Sag risings can be SOOO loud. Especially when they get excited or drunk.

Having a Sun in Aries and a Cancer moon seems like the most difficult sun/moon placements to have together. You have this tough exterior and such a vulnerable interior that no one knows about so people usually treat you harshly not knowing it’s really hard for you to take that☹️ also struggles a lot with being vulnerable to anyone.

Every Pisces Mars woman I’ve ever met was so dazzling to look at. They have such an ultra feminine nature that’s almost ethereal.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Priorities

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Illness/comfort

Summary: When Quinn gets a text from you 2 hours before his game, he shows where his priorities lie when he drops it all for you.

Series: Teacher Reader series

Notes: I am not very well atm and I had to drive home dizzy from work the other day, the idea of Quinn being there to help has been stuck in my head so have some self indulgence from me.

A kind of sequel to In Sickness and in Health but you don't need to read that to read this.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

He's already at the rink getting ready for the game in the locker room when his phone goes off. You don't actually ring him, clearly doing that thing you always do where you're trying to not bother him on a game day, instead you send a quick text message. He expects the usual:

'Good luck on the game today, baby!'

Instead, the text he gets has him picking his phone up and calling you back in an instant, worry clouding his judgement and making his hands shake slightly.

'Hey, so guess who's being sent home because she's dizzy and can't breathe? I had my head between my legs for 20 minutes, definitely can't stand and teach. Have a good game x'.

You drop the good luck at the end like he's not supposed to be worried, like you've just casually told him about the weather and not that you we're struggling to breathe.

It doesn't really matter that Tocc is giving him the look, the one he reserves for when he's annoyed at the boys, or that half the locker room have stopped their own pre-game, pre-warm up routines to watch their captain frantically call you. He's pacing back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for you to pick up the phone.

"Quinn?" You sound so incredibly breathless its like listening to an asthmatic 80 year old who's smoked for half their life. Except you don't smoke and you're not asthmatic or 80 which makes the whole situation about 10 times worse because you shouldn't be struggling to breathe. You should be doing better today.

You've been ill, he knows this, a chest infection he forced you to get meds for on the weekend. Meds which should have started working by now, a heavy dose of antibiotics and steroids which were supposed to have helped. You'd felt well enough this morning to go in and give work another go, but he regrets letting you do that now. Clearly trying to stand up in front of teenagers and talk was not something you should have been doing, not when the school day had only started half an hour ago and you were already being sent home.

"Baby, are okay?" You're sitting on the front steps of the school with all your things when you answer the phone to Quinn's worried voice. You keep telling yourself you just need a minute, just a minute and then you won't feel so dizzy, won't feel so breathless. Just a minute and the tingles in your fingers will go and your hands will stop shaking so much. Just a minute and then you can drive home and get into bed.

"Y-yeah, I'm...I'm just breathless. I'll be okay...they're...they're covering my...my lessons and..." You stop for a minute, taking big deep breathes, you sound so laboured on the phone that Quinn can't help but clench his phone tighter in his hand, "and I'm going home now." Your breaths are wheezy, just like Saturday, in fact he's certain you sound worse.

"How are you getting home?" He knows the answer before you say it and he hates it before he even hears it. You're dizzy and breathless and there is no way you should be driving home at all, but he knows you. Self-reliant to a fault, a martyr, always pushing yourself past the point of no return because you think you're fine, because you convince yourself you're fine. Because you don't want to inconvenience anyone or cause more problems. You ask to little of people around you, expecting barely anything despite all you give.

"I'm...I'm going to...to drive."

"No. You're not. I'm going to come get you." You want to protest a lot more than you do if you're being honest. But, you're so tired and it's so hard to breathe and students wandering in late to school are staring at you like you're having a break down. So your protests are relatively lacklustre by your usual standard. That actually worries him more.

"It's...there's like 2 hours before the game...you've...you've got warm ups soon." You hate the idea of him missing warm ups or god forbid the game, all because you were too stupid to realise you shouldn't have gone into work in the first place.

"So, I'll get you, take you home and come back to the rink and play. I'll walk to the school tomorrow and collect your car so you don't have to worry about it. But, you aren't driving, baby. If you even try to get in that car I will being fucking pissed. I love you, you do not get in that car." You know he's serious in that moment, not just because he's very rarely angry at you or anyone but himself, outside of the rink, but because he's got that clipped tone he only uses when he's serious. This isn't a request, it's a direct order and you have no intention of disobeying it, not when you know he's right...not when it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside that he's so insistent about your wellbeing.

"But, what...what if you miss warm ups?" He loves how much you support him and his hockey, he always will, but he hates that your first thought is that hockey should come first. His girlfriend can barely breathe right now and he quite honestly doesn't give a flying fuck if he misses warm ups. The team had to pull themselves together at some point and you came first. Always. If they couldn't manage warm ups without him then what was the point of paying them so much money?

"Warm ups aren't my priority, baby. You are. Do not get in the car. Do not drive. Do not move. I'm leaving right now, okay? Just sit on the steps of the school and take deep breaths." He's already grabbing his keys, not even bothering to change out of his gear other than putting some proper shoes on so that he can actually drive. He knows it'll spark some speculation and rumours, Captain of the Canucks storming out of the arena 2 hours before puck drop in full gear except his skates, but he doesn't fucking care about that right now.

"...Okay...thank you, Quinny. I love you." You say it because in that moment you have never felt so loved, to have someone drop everything, something so important, to come get you...Maybe its the meds, maybe its the breathlessness, the infection, but you feel like crying a little because of how sweet he is even when he's bossing you about.

"I'll see you soon, baby. I love you too."

He doesn't waste time once he hangs up, just turns straight to Tocc and tells him, "I'll be back."

The look he gets is a mixture of disbelief, frustration and confusion and he really can't blame Tocc for it. Not when Quinn is the captain, the player that seems to make a massive difference on the ice, and he's about to run out the doors 2 hours before the game? Yeah, he knows Tocc doesn't want to hear it.

"Quinn, where you going? We have a game in 2 hours?!" He knows he's going to be cutting it fine with Vancouver traffic and getting to your school, the apartment and back to the arena, but he's not letting you drive. He could live with missing a game, losing a game, but he couldn't live with himself if he let you drive home and something happened. His job was to look after you, if he failed at that? What was the fucking point?

"Tocc, I'll be back. I promise. But, right now my girlfriend is unable to breathe and dizzy and I'm not letting her drive home, okay? Sooner I leave, sooner I come back."

Maybe it's the insistence on Quinn's face, the reality that if he was forced to stay he wouldn't play well anyway. Maybe it's that you and Tocc get along and he can see a hint of concern in the other man's eyes or maybe Tocc just trusts him that much. But, he actually agrees to let him go. Not that Quinn could really be forced to stay. They'd have to tie him to the bench.

"Okay, I'm trusting you."

"Thanks."

Quinn ignores every single person he storms past, every employee, every fan outside, every person with a camera that starts asking him where he's going as he starts his car with one destination in mind. Maybe he seems rude, maybe he seems standoffish, but he doesn't really care because right now you are sat on the steps of a school struggling to breathe and he just wants to see you and get you home and into bed.

He doesn't even care that he knows Tocc is going to be questioned about his absence or that he can already hear his phone pinging with notifications from social media, most likely people asking where he was going and speculating.

'Just saw Quinn Hughes storm out of Rogers Arena in full gear, finally got fed up of his team?'

'Um, is anyone else panicking that Hughes just left the arena like 2 hours before puck drop?'

'Captain Lexapro has officially lost it with this team, just stormed out of the arena!!'

He tries his best not to break any traffic laws getting to you, despite the fact he has a lead foot that wants to press harder on the accelerator. But, he knows you'd hate it and you'd worry more about him getting a ticket, so he just grips the steering wheel tighter until he's turning into the school car park.

He doesn't try to park in a proper space, just pulls up as close to you as possible before hopping out. Your head is between your legs, shoulders rising and falling in laboured breaths and he feels like he's been punched in the stomach at how bad you sound.

"Oh, baby..." He's kneeling on the dirty ground within seconds and you try, through broken gasps to tell him he'll get his hockey socks dirty, but he doesn't listen to you, just reaches to pull you into a hug.

"Let's get you home, okay? Tomorrow we're going back to the doctors, okay?" You're leaning your head into his shoulder so heavily that he's worried you might actually pass out. It's like the moment his arms wrap around you, you just give up on holding yourself up. In truth, that's kind of what happens. You just want to lean into him, soak up the comfort of your boyfriend lighting petting your hair and whispering into your ear.

"Don't y-you have...practice?"

"I think I can fit the doctors in around practice, baby..." He doesn't tell you, but he'd forgo practice for you. He doesn't care about anything but how you're doing and you're not okay. Quinn can see that better than anyone.

"Alright, up you get..." He stands first, hands reaching for yours to help pull you to your feet. You sway before him like you're on a 16th century galleon in a thunderstorm, forehead plonking on his chest heavily, "Atta, girl. There we go." He just strokes your hair and back while you wait for the dizziness to pass, he knows each second will make him later to the arena but he's not going to rush you when you're struggling just to stand without fainting.

"Alright, let me get your stuff and then we'll take it one step at a time, baby, okay?"

"O..okay...one step...at a time." He tries his best not to let go of you completely as he bundles your work bag onto his shoulder. Quinn is as quick as he can be with it, before pulling you under his arm and helping you inch step by step towards the car.

It's slow going, every few steps you get a little dizzy and he waits for you to nod before he pushes you forward again. You're drained, dark circles under your eyes and skin losing some of its usual colour by the time you reach the car.

Quinn had purposefully pulled up the car with the passenger side facing you and you're thankful not to have to walk around the car as you brace yourself against the door for a moment. Quinn helps ease you into the seat, reaching over to put your seatbelt on for you and adjust the headrest so you can lean back. It eases some of the weight in your chest.

"Nearly home, okay, baby?"

You just nod, exhausted as his hands cup your cheeks tenderly, spreading a soft sort of affection through your already aching chest. He's so gentle as he looks down at you, fingers rubbing circles in your cheeks, but he looks so worried and you feel so guilty because he shouldn't have to be that worried.

"You've been so brave, baby, you're so brave...soon you'll be in bed and you can watch the game and sleep, okay?" He knows you'll want to watch the game if you're sat at home, mostly because you watch every game he plays even if its on catch up, but also because he knows it'll reassure you that he made it back in time.

You nod again, blinking up at him so tired that he can't help but frown.

"Atta, girl. My brave girl." The kiss Quinn presses to your forehead is short and sweet, not lingering but filling you with warmth and lightness even as he closes the door on you and gets into the driver's side.

You miss his comforting touch and as if he knows this, his hand reaches for your thigh at any given opportunity when it isn't in use to drive. The stability of it, the comfort of just having him there is so welcome and helps you to relax back into the seat as he drives.

It's just as hard work getting you into the apartment, thankful as ever that the elevator actually works, but once you're in, Quinn feels ten times lighter.

"Right, lets get you comfy, baby...you want one of my jerseys or a hoodie?"

"Jersey...the....the black one, please."

"Okay, sit down, there ya go, good girl.." He watches you the entire time from the corner of his eye, scared you'll lean too far forward from how you're hunched over on the edge of the bed. He tries to make the entire thing quick, reaching for his black jersey, the extra big one that he bought home because you liked how it dwarfed you and even dwarfed him.

"Arms up, baby..." He helps you out of your work blouse and your bra, slipping the jersey over the top quickly to avoid the shivers you start shaking with.

The worst part is getting you to your feet to get your bottoms off. Quinn helps you rise to your feet before kneeling in front of you, dragging your hands to his shoulders for support as he helps you inch out of the remainder of your work clothes. Your fingers grip his shoulders so tight that he's certain you might leave bruises but he doesn't really care, just happy to get you comfy and help you into bed.

You're bundled under as many blankets as he can find, plus the heated blanket you got at Christmas. A big jug of water beside the bed, snacks piled high because he is not having you try to go all the way to kitchen without supervision right now.

"You want the game set to go on?"

"Y...yes, please...wanna watch you play." He turns the television on, setting it to the NHL game set to go live in less than an hour now and he knows he's going to miss warm ups at this point. Tocc's probably blowing up his phone and he knows he's cutting it fine...but you look so small bundled up in bed and he actually hates the idea of leaving you alone. He hates not having his family near all the time as a general rule, but in that moment he hates it so much more. If his mum or dad had been near he could have asked Ellen or Jim to check in on you, instead you were going to be all alone and he hated it.

"I'll score for you, yeah? You can watch me score and maybe we'll win and then I'll come and make us dinner. That sound good, baby?"

"Perfect..." Quinn smooths your hair back from your face, tucking a strand behind your ear even as he uses it as an excuse to feel your temperature. Not unreasonably warm which reassures him a little that you're at least not feverish.

He just keeps sitting there next to you, stroking your hair and caressing your cheek to the point that as much as you're loathe to get him to stop and to leave, you have to remind him he can't stay here. He has a game he's already running late to.

"You...you have to go, Quinn...I'll be okay..."

"If you're not, you'll phone 911, right?" He smooths your hair back again, in truth he really doesn't want to leave you there like that. Even as you seem to be breathing a little better now you're lying down. He considers just not going, if they lose they lose...but he knows he can't. He's captain, he promised he'd be back...and you'd be unhappy with him. He might be your boyfriend but the Canucks were your team and you'd likely make him sleep on the couch for a week.

"I promise...just go win for me?"

"Okay, sweet girl." He presses a last lingering kiss to your forehead, before getting up to leave. But, he still lingers in the doorway for a moment until you push him to go.

Once he's out of the apartment he's rushing. Barely any time and honestly when he finally gets back to the arena and gets his skates on he's surprised he's just in time to go out on the ice for the anthem...cold, not warmed up in the slightest, not ready at all to play a game, but willing to.

Tocc stops him as he's passing the bench to get to the ice, "Cutting it fine, Hughes!" despite the gruff tone, Quinn can tell that Tocc is just relieved that Quinn's back in time. As are the guys who all look at him with varying shades of relief as if they'd been freaking out the entire time. Which they probably had.

"Told you I'd be back." Quinn says it with such confidence, even though inside he knows he nearly missed the entire game. To be honest if you hadn't forced him out the apartment then he'd probably have been late at best.

"How is she?" Tocc's voice is soft, concerned and Quinn appreciates it. He appreciates that as a coach Tocc doesn't just care about how much they cost or how well they play, he cares about them and their families too...and you're included in that, ring or not.

"Not good...but safe at home."

"You need practice off tomorrow?"

"Please, I need to get her to the doctors..."

"Done. Now go help us win the game." Tocc gives him a clap on the shoulder before pushing him out onto the ice and just like that Quinn slips into captain mode.

Locked in like he always is even if his legs don't feel as loose and his stick feels a little less familiar in his hands. Knowing you're home safe helps, he can put the thought of you to the back of his mind, knowing you're safe in the apartment, comfortable and surrounded by everything you need.

You find it hard to focus on the game, but force yourself to, determined to watch Quinn play and to see the goal he intends to score for you. Maybe it's silly, there's no guarantee he'll actually score, but you can tell from the moment he's on the ice that it's one of the few things on his mind. Shot after shot after shot, a determined series of attempts that remind you how important you are to him even as you lie wheezing in bed, eating as much chocolate as Quinn put out for you.

It's part way through the first period with one goal already to Vancouver thanks to Petey that the issue of Quinn's disappearance pre-game is raised.

"Quinn Hughes was nearly late to the game today, the captain missed warm ups but that's certainly not stopping him now!" Shortie's voice rings through the room, a familiar cadence that makes you feel comforted.

"No, it's not, Shortie, do we know why Hughes was late?" Dave responds and for a moment you can't quite comprehend that you've managed to cause this much of a ruckus.

"It hasn't been confirmed and you know I'm not much of a gossip..." You have a little giggle a Shortie even as you are the topic of conversation because it's not really much in the way of gossip and it's so silly.

"But?"

"Apparently he had a family emergency, his girlfriend is very unwell and he dropped everything to go get her."

"Well, that's just.."

"Romantic? Sweet?"

"I was going to say so unlike the Quinn Hughes we used to know, the one who only thought about hockey." You think back to Quinn when you first met, how everything had been hockey, hockey, hockey. You hadn't minded, your own love of the sport meant that you could handle it. But, it's true...Quinn had been rethinking his priorities ever since you started dating, where he might have prioritised hockey once, he'd started to prioritise you. You're not entirely sure at what point you became that important in his life, but it made you feel warm and fuzzy all over.

"I think it's a good thing, that's a sign of growth, just like Hughes' shot!" Shortie cuts himself off as you watch the camera pan to Quinn, following his agile movements across the ice as he skips past the other team's players as if it's as easy as breathing, "He's in past the defence, he lines up the shot and an unassisted goal for Quinn Hughes! Vancouver goal!"

You smile wide as you watch Quinn grin, celebrating with his team in a series of hugs before he finds a camera. There's a moment where you know he's grinning at you, for you, a cheeky little wink sent through the screen as if to say 'told you I'd score for you'.

"I suspect that one was for the girlfriend, Shortie."

You watch the entire game, trying not to nod off to sleep between periods. While you can't cheer and you certainly don't have the energy to celebrate too hard, every Canuck goal makes you feel lighter and brings a smile to your face.

The end result of a 5-2 win to the Canucks makes it easy for you to drift off as the game ends and the waiting for Quinn begins.

He's running off a high when the game ends, even more so when Boeser offers to take over press duties so Quinn can get back to you quickly.

The apartment is quiet when he comes in, "Baby?" not a sound comes back in response and he's careful to move quietly through the apartment to the bedroom doorway.

You're fast asleep, breathing heavy but nowhere near as bad as earlier in the day, you're surrounded by chocolate wrappers and he's quiet as he picks them all up and puts them in a bin, replacing them with the puck he scored with on your bedside table.

He tiptoes back to the kitchen quietly pottering around to make some dinner for you while you're still asleep, nothing fancy but protein, carbs and veg. The sort of thing that's definitely boring but also definitely what your body needs right now.

"Baby, time to wake up...I've made you dinner." He's gentle when he wakes you, soft fingers down your cheek as you stir awake, blinking up at him bleary eyed. Quinn helps you sit upright, the tray of food settling neatly in your lap.

"Where's...where's yours?"

"On the table, you want me to eat in here with you, sweetheart?"

He's moving before you finish nodding, grabbing another tray and his plate before joining you on the bed. He spends most of his dinner watching you eat, making sure you're not leaving large amounts and that you're okay.

He's happy about the win, happy about the score, but he's mostly just happy to be back with you and knowing that you're eating and you're okay, if not well.

Quinn's quick to tidy up your trays and even quicker to get back to you and get into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, sliding under the covers with you and pulling you into his arms.

Your cheek rests against his chest, the steady thump of his heart a soothing sound that helps some of the anxiety about being off work ease off. Quinn's fingers caress circles and weird shapes across your arm and shoulder as he tucks you tight against him, legs twined together. Every so often he presses a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, the top of your hair, as if reassuring himself that you're okay and he's got you.

"You scored..." You mumble into his t-shirt, a small smile working it's way to your lips as his hand moves up to run through your hair, stopping at your scalp every now and then to scratch lightly until you feel like purring even if that purr is more of a wheezy rumble.

"Mmm, for you, baby." Quinn smiles down at you, another kiss pressed to your cheek.

"T...the wink?" His smile weakens slightly at your still stumbling breathlessness and the wheeze and crackle that accompany it.

"Just for you, sweet girl."

"I'm...I'm proud of you, y'know?" You smile up at him so sweetly that he can't help but feel certain in his choices today. Yeah, nearly missing a game was rough, and maybe the press are going to be dicks about it and maybe he would have felt guilty if he'd missed the game or they'd lost...but he knows he'd skip a million games if it meant you were being looked after, were safe.

"I know...and tomorrow you're going to show me how proud you are by letting me take you to the doctors again."

"Ugh..." You groan, hiding your face into his chest like that will stop him from dragging you to the doctors. Your stubbornness normally cute but in this moment less so.

Quinn cups the back of your head until your looking up at him, green eyes meeting yours with a pleading stare that makes your resolve tremble and shudder. "Please? I'm worried about you, baby...I was really scared when I got that text from you."

"Yeah?" You hate that you worried him...it's that worry that makes you concede that maybe you need to go back to the doctors and maybe as much as you hate it, you'll do it, for Quinn.

"Yeah. I can replace hockey, I can play another game if I miss one. But, I can't replace you. Let me take you to the doctors."

There's a beat of silence as he pleads with you, eyes soft, worried, gentle, thumb stroking soothingly across the base of your neck and you can't really deny him this. Not when you know you'd feel exactly the same if the roles were reversed, not when he nearly missed a game for you today and went in completely cold turkey to win it.

"Okay...as...as long as you keep cuddling me."

"I think I can do that, baby." You curl back into his arms like the spot was carved just for you and in that moment Quinn Hughes knows that you have fully hit the top of his priority list, no ands, ifs, buts or maybes. You could ask him to quit hockey tomorrow and he'd do it. He'd do anything for you and that should be terrifying, but it's not because he knows you'd never ask too much of him. If anything you ask too little.

[celuere]

lockjaw

pairing: sub!arlecchino x fem!reader

context: when your husband comes home drained of her energy and completely exhausted, you decide to return the favor and give her a nice… treat…

cw: needy arlecchino, faceriding, teasing, overstimulation, there is only one hing that can make the knave scream and it‘s her wife‘s mouth, will be using wife and husband on arle in this one because i see her not minding what of the two you‘ll use on her, she lowkey loosed it idk man

word count: 2.5k

art creds: lilly of the valley

on a rather rainy saturday you were sat comfortably underneath the warmth of your covers, dragging a red pencil over the children’s recent homework. with the clock chiming in for 11pm, the other side of your bed was still suspiciously empty. 

weird. usually she should be home by now… perhaps she is staying in her office at zapolyarny palace tonight due to the heavy downpour, which would be inconvenient. the two of you still had to plan the upcoming vacation for the hearth, a break with the children has been long overdue. you were thinking of visiting inazumas‘s watatsumi island, the cultural aspect and stunning scenery of the inazuman region always appealed you, but given your husband‘s status and the latest events between the last fatui harbinger and the shogun… maybe chenyu vale would also be a lovely destination.

your head jerked up as you were pulled out of your train of thoughts by the sound of a heavy door being shut, followed by some faint fontainian cursing echoing through the halls.

seems like your husband did make it home through the awful weather. you did not bother leaving the comfort of your bed as you already heard the soft thuds of her feet dragging her up the stairs while your gaze was still fixed on the mathematical equation before you.

eventually you‘ll have to give the kids another lesson about addition and multiplication. the old metal hinges of the door creaked softly in response to your husband pushing her way inside. 

„i‘ll get them oiled tomorrow.“, she‘d say almost every time, only to end up forgetting it in the midst of her harbinger work.

but not today.

today you were simply just greeted with a soft, almost inaudible „good evening, love.“. the lack of her usual deeper, serious tone caused you to lift your eyes up from the papers you were currently holding and… dear archons.

„what on earth happened with you?“

„don‘t mention it.“, with her hair dripping wet from getting caught in the weather, down to her… dirty and crinkled clothes… your husband looked like she‘s seen hell. you could swear she looked around five years younger when she left the house this morning. even her hair looked like a mess.

you watched your spouse slowly starting to shed out of her clothed, starting by unbuttoning her silken blazer, you could audibly hear her taking a very deep inhale through her nose, „i wanted to be home two hours ago, if it were not for the glorious ideas of our children.“, by now you could see they’ll steam slowly emitting from her wet strands, gotta put that curse to use somehow.

„what kind of idea required you to come home looking like… a dirty cat...?“, you put the homework aside to focus your attention fully on her as her hands fumbled with the buckle of her belt. what a sight.

„they thought it to be a clever… almost glorious idea to play hide and seek in the forest nearby the town. only to come back with not one but two of their siblings missing.“, your eyes widened as she explained the recent events to you, but just as you wanted to speak up, arlecchino raised her hand and continued talking, „i naturally… reprimanded them and walked with them back to their… playground where i spent the last two hours looking for the rest of these buffoons. with my footwear. in muddy terrain. [name], they will spend the rest of the month helping around in the house. no missions. strict bedtime. the garden is long overdue for a change anyway. and we‘re not getting them the two dogs they have been begging for.“, she clicked her tongue in frustration as she failed to open up the belt before simply giving up and letting her head sag along with her shoulders.

it has been a while since you saw her so fed up. 

„honey… calm down now…“, sighing, you pushed back the blanket that was covering your lower half and rose up from the mattress. crimson eyes fixating your face as you came to a stop before her and slowly started to open up her belt.

„the children learned their lesson… sure, that idea was indeed not of high intelligence but they‘re kids at the end of the day. nobody got hurt and they‘re all safely tucked away in the security of our house now… and that is all what matters.“, your hands slowly pulled the leather away from her pants and placed it neatly over the chair in front of your make-up desk.

„i am very well aware of that, it‘s just… archons above, they scared the living daylights out of me…“, a sigh so deep and heavy left her throat that it had you staring up her for a good few moments, finally taking a closer look at her beautiful face which was laced with exhaustion.

„i can understand that more than well enough… but getting yourself worked up all over again will do you no good, darling. was the rest of your day at least better?“, you hooked your fingers underneath the hem of her pants to tug them down for her.

„don‘t. get me started. not now. not when i‘m with my wife…“, her black hand reached up to tug some of your lost strands back behind your ear.

and something clicked inside your head.

it has been a while since she was on the receiving end. actually… it has been months since then. and seeing how… exhausted she was right now as she got changed into her sleepwear…

before you could stop yourself, your hand grabbed after her wrist just as she wanted to put on her pants. your husband raised a questioning eyebrow at your move.

„something the matter?“

„get on the bed. please… i have just the right idea to relieve you.“, tugging her now gently towards the bed by her wrist… arlecchino did not protest. at all. maybe she was clueless. or maybe she was just too exhausted to care.

she wordlessly watched you crawl onto bed and lay down flat on your back before she sighed, „ma cherie… i would love to take care of my wife, but i really am not in the mood to buckle up one of our various toys today.“

she gave you one of her rare apologetic smiles as she wanted to proceed with putting her pyjama pants on.

„peruere.“

the usage of her real name caused her to look back at you in slight bewilderment. that name was reserved for serious, intimate situations after all. whenever you wanted her to either listen to you or when she had you gripping and moaning into the sheets until your voice grew hoarse and your knuckles white.

„sit. and i don‘t mean in front of or besides me.“, your face showed not a single sign of amusement nor sarcasm as you gestured with one of your manicured nails to your head. you could see her visibly gulp at the realization of what you were implying.

„i… ma chérie, tu ne peux pas t'attendre à ce que je…“

„my darling, you can‘t possibly expect me to…“

„i am. now sit. please… you‘d do the same for me, i‘m certain…“, that seemed to do the trick for her because just mere moments later her pants found themselves discarded on her side of the bed and she making her way up to your face, even if she was hesitant at first.

„don‘t be shy now… come here, gorgeous…“, you allowed yourself to grab onto her hips to speed up this torturously slow process, the mattress sinking down further beneath her weight. she lets a soft gasp out at your grip before you were met with a wonderfully sweet view on the small wet spot that formed on your wife‘s plain red panties.

„excited, are we, hm…?“, you could not keep that teasing grin off of lips even if your life depended on it. seeing the usually composed and dominant woman struggling to maintain eye contact with you was too adorable to not bathe in her embarrassment.

„quit that attitude or i‘ll-“, a sharp inhale followed as you interrupted her by pressing a soft kiss right onto the wet stain on her clothed pussy before you invited yourself to pull the fabric aside.

„i barely touched you and you‘re almost dripping over my mouth… who would think the knave is so easy to rile up…“, your mouth almost started to water at the sight of her slick folds, waiting to be licked clean by none other than you.

„a-are-“, she had to clear her throat, „are you done with torturing me- Oh-!“, a strong hand found its way almost immediately into your hair the moment you pressed her down on your mouth, your tongue gliding up her cunt, gathering her arousal before you almost eagerly swallowed. this woman tasted so unbelievably good and she had no idea. not a single clue of how every small gulp of her fluids snapped the restraints of your self control one by one. sharp nails scratched along your scalp as you finally paid her almost aching clit some attention by sucking her into your mouth, nibbling on the sensitive bundle of nerves and believe it or not. it did not take long until her hips started moving against your face. 

arlecchino peruere tried her utmost to keep her voice down, to not let you know how badly she enjoyed her wife eating the living the daylights out of her pussy, but she gave it all away by how she almost desperately humped your face. one hand keeping your head in place as the other had an almost deadly grip onto the wooden headboard. she did not know how badly she needed this, to just hand over the leash every once in a while. 

and as expected. it did not long for your husbands first high of the evening to hit her like an aquabus. thighs quivering around your head. her juices running down both sides of your face as she rode out her orgasm on your face, but even then she barely made any sounds besides the occasional gasp and „shit“ being muttered underneath her hot breath. 

much to your dismay.

that is why you kept her pressed down. kept her wet pussy right on your mouth as you pressed your tongue flat against her before you let movements of her own hips do the rest as her arousal ran down your throat. 

„fuck…yes…“, the humping slowly turned into a more rocking motion, dragging her whole cunt over your messed up face. you ignored how soaked your own panties were by now. or how you were clenching around nothing. all of that did not matter when the first soft moan slipped past her lips as her second orgasm came crashing down on her way sooner than expected. she was trembling by now. you could even feel the hand gripping your hair shivering slightly and she has the ridiculous idea to try and get off your face. we couldn‘t have that. right?

„you are not going anywhere…“, bringing her dripping pussy back down on your face by her thighs, you knew exactly what do with your tongue this time. 

„ah-!!! hold on-! th-that is not- hah-!!“, a moan from the depths of her throat so guttural bounced off the walls, it sent a fucking shiver down your spine. slipping your tongue inside her obviously seemed like the perfect choice. 

she was so incredibly sensitive, every little move of yours seemed to sent her jolting against you. and she was whining. whining and whimpering, begging for a short break, to just let her breathe for a second when you continued to tonguefuck her, your nose nuzzled against her swollen clit, your whole face was covered in sweat and other bodily fluids by now from her earlier faceriding. 

so celestia help this tortured soul when the wooden headboard seemed to slowly start cracking underneath her literal deathgrip. she could not handle her wife. she couldn‘t handle the overwhelming pleasure sending bolts of ecstasy through her body and she certainly couldn‘t handle the third orgasm you shoved down her throat. you could barely see anything down there other than few black and neatly trimmed pubes, but you were drowning in her.

and did she really think it would stop here?

„b-break- l-love please… i-“, was the knave sobbing right now? sobbing over getting her literal soul sucked out of her pussy? you will never let her live this down. ever.

but in the back of your mind you already knew she will pay you back. tenfold. but that was a problem to worry about for another day. the only thing that mattered now was getting her through a fourth orgasm now. 

clearly, you weren‘t nearly as skilled as her when it came to mouthwork, but you memorized quite a lot from your past experiences with her. for example how to nicely curl up your tongue in an enjoyable manner for her and you didn‘t know if hated or loved it by the way her moan rung in your ears.

pathetic, was she not?

amidst the fog of her taste covering your mind, you could not help but moan into her warmth, pressing your legs together to somehow soothe the almost hurting emptiness between them. it has been a while since you were this down. you are sure that there must have formed a stain on the sheets underneath you already.

and you did not even notice when the juices from her fourth climax dripped into your mouth. you were so fixed, so obsessed with savoring every single drop of her arousal as the poor woman above you tried calming down from the raw energy clouding her mind, lungs burning along with every single one of her poor muscles. her thighs were practically numb by now.

but neither of you noticed the smell of burnt wood filling the room until you finally opened your eyes to look up at your poor husband.

only to see the headboard she was holding onto for dear life simmering and smoking underneath her hand, with a small flame slowly starting to form right underneath, her arm completely drowned in a bloody red.

„m-mh-!!!!“, now slapping her thighs and trying to catch her attention, you were the one getting nervous now.

„hm…? what is it now…?“, she groaned as she slowly lifted her head up- and groaned even more at sight of the destroyed headboard.

„archons above, not again.“, she ran a hand over her sweaty face before snapping her fingers and getting off of your face. the fire simply seized from existence.

with a soft tint of pink decorating her face she looked down at you, crimson eyes screaming anything but soft, „just to be… clear… this never happened.“

„you were a bit too loud for that to be true-“, another snap echoed from somewhere far away, rendering you silent. you just stuck out your tongue to her.

but it was worth it when you watched her try to get out of bed the next morning without looking an old grandma.

[ncteenv]

svt as friends with benefits

s.coups (seungcheol) was very surprised when you suggested it but he didn’t waste any time lmao. he almost never hits you up in fear of being inconvenient but loves it when you hit him up and he’s at the studio (bottom line: studio sex). born to catch feelings. he sometimes have to stop himself from blurting out random “i love you’s” when fucking. you could be going on about how this is a great arrangement because you both get hot sex with no strings attached. and he’d nod but will also be thinking about marrying you.

jeonghan honestly texts you asking to come over whenever he’s bored, which is all the fucking time. he hangs around a lot and says it’s because the members annoy him. truth is, he loves hanging out with you even if y'all don’t fuck. he’s a giant fucking tease and will get you worked up with only words. he loves teasing you in public and doesn’t oppose if you wanna fuck in the bathroom. he’s addicted to fingering, a hoe for hickeys and scratches, and likes subbing more than he cares to admit. decent aftercare, but he would open up to you and feel embarrassed about it later. he’d slowly catch feelings but never confess. your relationship just naturally progresses into a serious one if you let it.

joshua was so shocked when you suggested it he just kind of sat there in silence for 10 minutes. he’s a surprisingly slow lover! very shy but loves eye contact during sex. he likes to just lay with you and watch some funny stuff afterwards so he doesn’t lose this sense of friendship. he probably had feelings from the beginning but doesn’t ever confess.

jun already had feelings going in. you meet his mom like two weeks in and he makes it look completely unplanned. he tries to hold back on the romance in case the feelings aren’t mutual but always ends up making sweet love to you even though you specifically asked him to blow your back out. if there’s like a day for friends with benefits, he will get you roses. he stays the night, and gets you breakfast in bed in the morning. a cuddler. you’ll probably end up married.

hoshi never even suggested anything, just had an impulse to kiss you one night and everything just kinda happened from there. ****#1 nude requester. he loves telling you to come over to watch some netflix and then kissing your neck 0.32 seconds into the movie. oral god squad™. hair puller + ass smacker but he makes it a soft combo somehow. hip thrusts sent from heaven. he’s very considerate if you catch feelings and he doesn’t, but if you both fall then it’s a very chill transition into a serious relationship.

wonwoo rarely ever hits you up but is always available when you do. he will fuck you against the wall on command. touch his thigh and his brain’s already going into alert mode. he’s very nervous but also very romantic somehow. loves cuddling afterwards but never initiates it. he’d catch feelings very quietly and gets giddy if you confess first.

woozi so damn awkward and nervous, you have no idea how y'all got in this arrangement in the first place. but he makes up for it in bed after the first 3 times (he needs time to calm down okay). honestly has 0 idea how good he actually is. he doesn’t like to talk much afterwards, but will cuddle if you ask though. the sex doesn’t affect your friendship that much but strangers will always assume you two are dating. send him nudes and he’ll be at your door in 0.3 seconds. he’d beg for blowjobs/handjobs, and is real fucking whiny. he will probably confess to you and if you reject him he will write 2 whole albums about it.

dk (dokyeom) is a professional feelings catcher and will try to woo you. he’d immediately start acting like a boyfriend and tries to play it cool when you remind him it’s nothing serious. loves making out while lying down and talking about nothing in between kisses. still a great friend and amazing listener and an even better cuddler. he’d get pouty if you have other friends with benefits. most likely to transition into a serious relationship.

mingyu all those muscles are for catching feelings. y'all finish fucking and suddenly he's facetiming his mom. aftercare includes cuddling, caressing your hair and talking about your emotions. he can go for HOURS and likes to fuck you against a wall so he can see his own muscles flex. he thinks he's discreet about it but really isn't. sloppy at oral but that doesn't mean he's not good. if you terminate the arrangement he sends you a 2 minute video that's just him crying and staring at his front camera.

the8 (minghao) if you’re not his lifelong best friend then sorry he can’t be your friend with benefits. he’ll be paranoid about keeping your relationship discreet. acts like he doesn’t know you in public, says it’s “hotter” and “naughtier that way” when confronted. he will not look you in the eyes again if he finds out he’s not your only friend with benefits. he’s surprisingly fond of couch sex. you’re still getting aftershock from your orgasm and he’s already put his pants on, one foot out the door. he brags about your sexcapades to his close friends in cryptic ways, and would gets mad if they act interested. he’s deeply afraid of catching feelings and will probably terminate the arrangement if his heart flutters even a lil bit.

seungkwan loves bickering and then shutting each other up with a kiss. 100% a jealous bitch. he has zero problems with minimal pda but only around your close friends. he’s actually very nervous and shy about kissing but he’s very good at covering it up. he likes to talk a lot afterwards. he’ll definitely expect to get married to you later on.

vernon to this day you have no idea how y'all got yourselves in this arrangement to be honest. he probably hits you up the most when he’s drunk. he’s actually very shy and nervous but he’s always trying different things to please you. oral god squad™ pt 2. he stays silent for 3 straight minutes afterwards but then he says some weird shit and ruins the moment. he might catch feelings if you ride him.

dino loves LOVES L O V E S teasing you in public, oh my god he would be INSUFFERABLE. intense stares, lip biting and everything. also loves fucking in inappropriate places. oral god squad™ pt 3. dancer hips!!! after-sex cuddling doesn’t exist because he just wants to go again. he’s a wildcard when it comes to catching feelings. he might dump you tomorrow or might be daydreaming about marrying you. who knows.

[ssapphosviolets]

Acts of Service

Sevika x gf!reader

Inspired by part of my recent work:

Sevika's job is cruel and grueling, but providing small acts of service makes her feel like a normal person at the end of the day. It's a reminder to herself that she's a lover, that she hasn't lost her way of caring, that she is more than her job. If it was up to her, her girlfriend wouldn't ever have to lift a finger again.

or; Sevika's acts of service

(lowk adhd coded reader bc samesies)

.oOo.

Sevika sighs when she steps foot into her and her partners shared closet, or should she say stepped foot onto her partners clothes. She sighs; not out of annoyance or frustration, maybe a little out of inconvenience, but she's unable to feel any real malice behind it. She's always known, even before moving in together, how forgetful and messy her partner could be.

Messy isn't Sevika's choice of words though. Her girlfriend certainly isn't dirty or slobbish. She just has a tendency to become very easily distracted, often leaving traces of her forgetfulness behind as her brain had already moved on to its next task. Maybe disorganized was a better word. But that didn't seem right either. It's not the first time Sevika has failed to capture her partner in words though.

It's not uncommon that there's forgotten clothes left behind as her girlfriend rushed to get ready for work earlier that morning. Or that there's jackets and sweaters left on the couch and the backs of chairs that had been forgotten about. Or that only Sevika's side of the bathroom sink has more than an inch of visible counter space. Or that there's a pile of laundry sitting on top of the dryer that her partner swore she would put away "tomorrow".

Sevika loves this about her partner. While at first her girlfriend was shameful of this forgetfulness, always profusely apologizing at the realization of her mess, Sevika had done more than enough to reassure her that she really doesn't mind. Sometimes to this day her partner does feel apologetic, but it's no longer from guilt or anxiety, it's more so out of frustration with herself.

Sevika appreciates that it gives her an easy service to do. For most people, coming home from work to almost tripping over a small pile of clothes would be enough to set them off. When Sevika comes home from a long day to a pile of clothes, she uses this task to allow herself a release from that hard and rough front she puts on all day at her job. It took 10 seconds to put away her girlfriend's clothes, and 10 seconds to be reminded of who she really is. She's still a human who has the ability to do no harm. Who is not only capable of loving, but also of being loved.

This mess is an indicator of her and her girlfriend's safety. She's safe, in their own home, where expectations and pressures are non-existent. Her girlfriend is safe, even feels safe enough to leave a mess in the first place. The ability to let yourself be messy around someone is something only a deep trust can bring about.

Sevika turns those 10 seconds into 30 as she chooses to fold up one of her own shirts, placing it on top of her girlfriend's side for when she gets home from work.

.oOo.

While her partner may be forgetful, Sevika always remembered. She never minded having to remember for the both of them. Though sometimes the questions of "Do you know where-?" can get quite repetitive, Sevika knows it's only asked because her girlfriend knows she has it handled. Sevika takes great pride in the underlying confidence and trust that her girlfriend has in her to take care of things.

"Do you know where my lighter is?" Sevika looks up from her place on the couch, where her eyes were buried in a book. "You have probably 10 around the house, babe. Which one?" She easily averts all of her attention towards her partner, not minding the interruption one bit. Not from her, at least.

"I don't know, just any of them?" She hears the opening and closing of drawers as she searches. Sevika sighs and shifts, her hand grasping onto the circular clipper lighter, and she gets a quick flash of pink and grey in between her fingers as she pulls it out. It's one of her girlfriend's lighters, to be exact.

"Here, Hun." She holds the lighter above her head so the girl can see it from behind the couch. She hears the immediate footsteps on the creaking wood of their living room, until the lighter is gleefully snatched from Sevika's fingers. Her partner leans over the back of the couch, pressing a kiss to the top of Sevika's head. Sevika's own hand snakes around to hold the back of her girlfriend's neck, and she tilts her head up to capture her lips before she has a chance to pull away.

"I want that one back though, it's always my backup for when you lose your other nine." Sevika teases, nothing but adoration showing through not only her eyes but her tone as well. She can't hide the smile that graces her dark tinted lips when she sees how flustered the girl gets.

.oOo.

Sevika has a love-hate relationships with mornings. She loves the quiet moments she spends with her girlfriend as they get ready together, but hates when they inevitably have to part ways for the day. So she cherishes every second of their quiet mornings.

She finally rolls out of bed when the bathroom light has remained on for a couple minutes too long, sleepily trudging through their shared bedroom to reach the light. She's met with her favorite sight: her girlfriend leaned over the sink as she does her makeup for the day.

Sevika was never one for makeup, but there was something so attractive to her about watching a partner do it. Maybe it was because she loves the femininity of it, or maybe it was the intimacy of being allowed to share such an important part of a daily routine with someone. She's too tired to really consider the "why's" at the moment.

She takes a step towards her girlfriend and presses her own front to her back, her arms wrapping around the girls waist. Sevika watches in the mirror as her girlfriend's smile grows. "Morning, Vika." Her partner mumbles tiredly, adoringly. "Morning, hun." Sevika responds in a similar tone.

She stays where she is as she watches her girlfriend brush on her mascara, before deciding she should stop being a lovesick little puppy and actually help out a bit. She pulls back only slightly, just enough to reach for the necklace laying down on the counter beside her. The necklace her girlfriend has had for years, that one piece of staple jewelry that she is never seen without.

Sevika wordlessly wraps it around her girlfriend's front, and carefully clasps it around her neck. Her girlfriend had moved on to her lipstick by the time the chain and charm rested firmly against her chest. Sevika grabs her rings next, and once she's sure her girlfriend can finish her task with a single hand, she softly grabs the other in her own.

She slides on each of the rings, knowing the exact placement of each one. She intertwines her fingers as the last ring is in place, and repeats the same process on her other hand as soon as the lipstick is set back down on the counter. Not a single word has to be spoken, but when they lock eyes in the bathroom mirror, a silent appreciation is made known.

[xochiackiller]

Nanami Gets Sick | Kento Nanami

✮ PAIRING: Nanami x Fem!Reader | FLUFF ✮

To hear Nanami Kento tell it, he was never sick.

"Just tired," he insisted, brushing off your concern for the third time that morning.

You’d raised an eyebrow when he refused breakfast—especially considering he’d packed a full bento the night before. You noticed the way he leaned harder against the wall after standing, how he squinted more than usual at his phone screen, how his voice came rougher than usual.

Still, he showed up to work on time, pressed and punctual, suit only slightly askew.

Which was why, hours later, when you opened the door to his study and found him slumped over the desk, fast asleep amid half-signed paperwork, your heart sank.

You stepped in quietly.

The sight was… rare. Nanami didn’t do “slumped.” He didn’t do “unguarded.” But there he was—brow creased in sleep, mouth faintly parted, breathing uneven. His glasses had slipped halfway down his nose.

You pressed a palm gently to his forehead.

Hot. Too hot.

You frowned and whispered, “Kento.”

He stirred, groaning softly. “M’fine… just need a moment.”

“Liar,” you said affectionately.

His eyes blinked open blearily. “You’re supposed to be at HQ.”

“Left early. Something told me someone wasn’t taking care of himself.”

He sighed and tried to sit up straighter. You pushed him back with a gentle hand.

“Don’t make me fight you,” you said. “You’ll lose. You’re weak right now.”

He gave you a dry look, then winced. “I’m not… weak.”

“Okay, tough guy. Let’s get you to bed before you collapse again.”

It took some coaxing—okay, dragging—but you finally got him out of the chair and onto the bed. He muttered about inconvenience and productivity the entire way until you tossed a blanket over him and shoved a thermometer in his mouth.

“38.8,” you read. “Kento, you’re burning up.”

“I’ve worked with worse.”

“And now you’re resting with me, which is better.”

He groaned again, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, mission failed. You worried me into cutting my meeting short, and now I’m here. Making soup.”

You turned to leave, but his fingers caught yours.

“…Thank you.”

You looked back, softening. “You're welcome. But if you try to stand before I come back, I’m tying you to the bed.”

“…Tempting.”

You blinked.

Nanami turned his head, already flushed, and murmured, “Ignore that.”

You grinned, squeezing his hand. “Sleep, Kento. I’ll be back with something warm.”

When you returned fifteen minutes later, he was half-asleep, hair a mess, one arm reaching for your side of the bed in his sleep.

And for once, you let him have it.

You curled in beside him, bowl of soup forgotten on the nightstand.

Because sometimes, the best medicine was just being held.

Even if he grumbled about germs the entire next morning.

Author Note: thanks for reading o(≧v≦)o stay healthy & request are open <3

[madschiavelique]

﹒ ✦ 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟕 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬

✦﹒ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : you pay a visit to eris in zaun, crossing unexpected people that lead to more complications than you'd thought and better conversations than expected

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : fighting, blood, punches (left right left right good night), angst, comfort, lore (insane, i know), idiots content (even more insane, who would have thought), friendly banter - the musical, reader has issues sitting with her own feelings - the opera, child abuse mention, burn injury/scar mentioned

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 16,7k

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : imagine this chapter is longer than the previous one haha... but imagine? jokes aside, it's been more than a month since i updated this fic because holy fuck y'all life got crazy. BUT i am here!! and finally posting a chapter for the fic so that's positive!!! anywho, i hope you'll like the chapter :3

✦﹒ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐘 : the pretty boy @oneoftheextras

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 ．．𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈

You'd already been back in Piltover for a week. A week to get back into the swing of things, a week to get used to the rhythm of school again, a week to lay your trip to Demacia on paper under notes, a week to clean each of your dishes every night and miss the buffet from the hotel.

And a week spent avoiding Viktor.

Ever since your realisation on your return, you hadn't been able to find the strength to be near him. 

In class, you would try to find the table furthest away from his, even if it meant leaving early for the Academy to make sure you found a seat among the early-morning students.

When you would go to the library, you'd cut your visits short if you had the misfortune to see him, stuffing books you weren't even planning to borrow originally in your bag to avoid the inconvenience of having to put them back on the shelves and having him come and talk to you.

When lunchtime would come, you'd make sure you found a place away from everyone to eat your packed lunch, even if it meant not eating with Sky to avoid the possibility of running into him.

At least you found a comfort you didn't expect in the idea that now you didn't have to bump into him in the dormitories.

And today, when Saturday had arrived and you would originally have had to work at the café and run into the inevitable possibility of taking his order, you had given your leave as soon as you got back so that you could meet up with Eris.

On the one hand, you were relieved. If Viktor had come to the café that day, the chances of having to take his order would have been greater, and could have led to a confrontation from which you would not have been able to extricate yourself.

On the other hand, well, you were nervous. Firstly, because he would notice, if he hadn't already, your constant evasion of him, and he would be irritated by it. 

And secondly, Eris's letter had been weighing on your stomach like a stone all week. 

Today was a fine day, the temperature gradually rising, and you regretted having to spend your day moving around Zaun in all black in its depths when you had the chance to bask in the warmth. 

Arriving at the bridge just as the sun was at its zenith, a vibrant yolk watching over you like an eye without a lid, you presented your papers to the enforcers present and managed to cross to the other side of the bank without much trouble. 

Putting your bag on the ground, you took a new pair of shoes out of it, as well as another jacket to pass incognito through the town. You'd gone for a black pair of pants, adding a few sets of belts to the look with a loose white t-shirt.

Any Piltovian who found themselves in Zaun in their usual clothes was sure to get into trouble, or at least be noticed. And in Zaun, that was the opposite of what you wanted to aim for.

Once you'd changed, you put your bag back on your shoulder with a grunt and headed for one of the city's lifts. You moved forward, with a determined step and a heavier, more confident gait.

Your stature was different in your Zaunite clothes, which did less to camouflage the reminiscence of your muscles than the careful outfits of Piltover. 

You watched your surroundings as if something or someone were about to appear, every street corner a target for your eyes, every passer-by a possible enemy.

Reaching the lift, you relaxed a little, the prospect of the journey up and down seeming like a relief. Although Piltover had its share of advances, Zaun's technological facilities could not have been more practical.

You began your descent, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag as you surveyed the streets of Zaun. 

Although the architecture criss-crossed the air, the sun's rays filtered through the city and covered its floors with lights. It felt like such a different place when night wasn't set, when the neons didn't crackle and any street deprived of light looked like the end of the earth.

You let out a breath for a moment. At least you weren't expecting to bump into Viktor here.

When the lift came to a stop on the ground, you shoved a hand in your pocket before stepping forward and walking towards Eris' shop.

You recognised some of the shopkeepers’ faces, offering them smiles and nods of the chin, not having the luxury for a moment to stop and strike up a conversation.

The air was a little heavier, you could feel it already, like a deposit of dust scraping the back of your throat, the impression that your uvula was rubbing against the carpet of your tongue causing you to cough once to get rid of the feeling.

Eris' shop was not far away, slightly sheltered from the main shopping streets. Although the alleyways being further apart than the avenues and boulevard in Zaun could have been a factor in making the less accustomed shy away, you were no longer affected.

You tightened your grip on the strap of your satchel. Admittedly, you were used to the architecture and streets of Zaun, but the idea that you could have been ambushed made your stomach churn. 

Your paranoia jumped to the sky as soon as the subject of this business came up again, and coming back to town after Eris' letter at times led you to think that it was all a trap. Your value had changed, however, in terms of the criteria for admission, a fact which made you feel uncomfortably reassured.

As you passed an alleyway to your left, the sun beat down on the façade of Eris' building, pieces of tinted glass and crystal rays ricocheting off the walls in multitudes of clear confetti. The placement was strategic, the shop lit up like a beacon, calling out to you as if to say that the light had decided for you that this was the place to be, whatever your original destination was.

At its window was a meticulously arranged shelf. Decks of classic Tarots, oracles and new packs of cards were placed here and there between fake green moss mimicking a forest bed set with crystals of various colours.

On the rest of the polished metal shelves were spiritual manuals, statuettes of icons and divinities of all kinds, sage and incense grouped together by carefully knotted threads, candles of various colours, small cauldrons, pendulums and other objects you weren't sure you recognised. 

Next to this large glass shelf was her counter, which she unfolded in the spring, when her consultations, which were too important and private, took place indoors, as they did in the autumn and winter.

Eris was outside, adjusting her little notice of the day with small drawings and embellishments. Her neat handwriting was remarkably precise and clean.

"Don't tell me I'm your first customer of the day?" you questioned as you approached her.

She sighed, not even turning to face you. "First of the afternoon," she stood up, dusting the chalk powder from her hands. "If the days only had you as a customer, I'd end up poorer than I started."

"As if you don't benefit from my presence," you smiled.

"You drive away customers like a scarecrow fends off crows," she passed through the interior of her shop and was back at her counter in a few steps. "What card today?"

You huffed, coming to sit on the high stool facing her. ‘’Shouldn't we start with the thornier subject?"

She rested both elbows on the varnished metal. "I prefer to wait until the next customer arrives."

"The next one?" you asked, frowning. "Why?"

She pulled out her own consultation deck, older and yellowed with age. "Renata is coming today. I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet."

Your eyebrows rose then. It made sense, even if you were slightly anxious about the idea of meeting her. She was an important woman in Zaun who could well turn out to play a primary role in the dismantling of this affair.

But you liked the fact that you didn't have to jump in with both feet. You weren't sure whether you'd prefer to give yourself time to discuss it later by constantly pushing back the obvious, or whether you'd prefer to rip it off like a band-aid.

"So, your card?" asked Eris again.

You had read your card that morning without missing it.

The High Priestess.

Its key words were as follows: She is the plane of your soul. The occult secrets, the guardian of inner knowledge. The authentic voice. The deepest part of your being. Self-knowledge. Silence. Intuition.

Without further ado, you read her description.

The veil of the High Priestess hides the invisible world. The book of your life is the parchment in her lap. A triple-moon crown rests on her head, reflecting the cyclical nature of life. The pillars are black and white, reflecting balance and duality. Her dress is made of water, reflecting the emotions and fluid nature of the material world and the feminine principle. This is the right time to tune in with your intuition, to let your high priestess guide you to gain inner wisdom.

Deep down you were hoping that Eris would be your High Priestess, that she would guide you through this thick fog you were exploring, because quite honestly you weren't sure how to get through it.

She hummed, starting to shuffle her cards as she was so used to doing.

"It's good, right?" you couldn't help but ask

She shrugged, tracing a line of cards on the polished metal. "It all depends on what you draw."

You huffed, watching the river of possibilities spread out before you in many regular waves. You couldn't stop your mind from racing back to Viktor, to what the Tarot was going to say. Approve, disapprove, confirm, prevent, all these possibilities ran through your mind and you tried to shake them off as you moved your left hand closer to the cards.

Why had you even considered the idea of approval when you weren't sure you wanted to let anyone love you? It was probably stupid, maybe you weren't even cut out for love, who knows. Maybe the universe had kept you from love all this time because you weren't meant to meet it. 

What were you even supposed to do? Were you supposed to face your feelings and accept them or deny them until eventually they passed?

You placed your finger on one of the cards and chose it, Eris drawing it towards her and turning it over to reveal the seven of swords.

"Huh," Eris remarked with a frown.

"Something wrong?" you asked, your hand frozen in the air.

"We'll see, pick the next one."

Your shoulders tightened with the tension of doubt about this situation, and you chose your second card, the varnish gliding easily over the metal as your friend revealed the two of swords.

Your eyes met Eris', seeming to observe the situation as her hooked index finger pressed under her nose like a moustache, sceptical. She simply jerked her chin at you, signalling you to continue.

Your hand followed its flight until the last card was placed under your fingers, and it slid down the counter like an additional glass ordered at the bar. She turned it over, and it was the three of wands.

She then brought all the cards together in a single pile and revealed the card lying underneath - the seven of wands.

She remained silent for a moment.

"Things haven't been going too well lately, have they?" she finally asked, her forest green eyes shifting from the cards lined up next to each other to yours.

Your shoulders dropped, slumping as you leaned against the counter and rested your chin on the palm of your hand. "Lots to think about."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered.

You sighed. "Let's read this spread of doom instead."

She nodded, intrigued all the same by the uncertainty hanging over you. Over the years, she had rarely seen you like this, unprepared, or at least unable to know what to do.

"Right," she said, straightening up. "Let's have a look."

She took the first card between her two fingers.

"Seven means 'go all the way'. Here, in swords and therefore the intellectual, it means that all paths are good to get there." She placed the card in front of you again and turned it so that you could observe it right side up. "Whether it's facts, eloquence, even false logic and stratagems, all means are good. After all, the intellect is also what is used to deceive others."

You leaned towards the card, tilting your head to one side. "I... cheat?" you arch an eyebrow.

"Have you ever cheated on a test or anything?"

You shook your head. "No."

"Then it's probably not that kind of cheating that this implies, even though the key word in the Seven of Swords is deception," she confirmed. "This card proves that rhetoric is a purely intellectual art, the art of convincing, not the art of finding the truth, through others as through ourselves." She tapped the card. "Now, let's have a look at this bugger."

As one of her hands pressed against the counter, the other pointed at the minor arcana.

"The military camp he's in is deserted and the battle in the distance indicates that this deceiver is either taking advantage of everyone's attention being directed elsewhere, or he's missing the most interesting thing. In either case, he's working against the collective interest by looking only to his own."

You were observing these details and interpretations. Were you this mischievous character, or did this represent something else?

Had it been just you at the time, with no little booklet to explain anything to you, you would have thought that this card reminded you of yourself leaving Demacia, carrying those swords in your arms like new lessons learned from both Fiora and Garen in combat and social ties.

"His fez, an oriental garment," she continued, "may even indicate that he is not part of the same community as the soldiers in the camp; perhaps in choosing deception you are cutting yourself off from the trust that binds a community together." 

You would have associated it with you landing in this new, foreign land, with the disastrous attitude you had had to cut yourself off from these situations. But you suspected, the more Eris' words rose to your ears, that this was not exactly the case.

"Of the seven swords, two are still firmly planted in the ground," pointed out Eris, "This thief has to give up something, for example accepting that he has to choose between moral values and his own interests. He thinks he's smarter than the others, and it shows, but he's holding the swords by the blade, hence the ambiguity of meaning between ‘deceiving’ and ‘being deceived’." 

She straightened up with the card pinched between her two fingers, twirling it like a butterfly in the air with disinterest. "In couples, of course, it's synonymous with cheating, one lying out of reflex, not being honest about what they want from the relationship, or lying to themselves by persisting in a relationship that's actually shaky, unequal, or indeterminate."

Your thoughts darted back to Viktor and your efforts to avoid him so assiduously during the week, biting the inside of your cheek as it heated up like its neighbour. Why did you have to be so obsessed with him? That he was always on your mind? That he haunted you wherever you went?

"I don't know if this card applies to you," pondered Eris, her graceful eyebrows furrowed, "perhaps it has more of a divinatory aspect about someone from the past around you that you should pay attention to.’’

You weren't so sure, and preferred not to say anything at the moment. She didn't really go out of her way to be honest out of sympathy, always offering the truth no matter what was asked of her.

"Dishonesty, hidden motives, hiding, sweeping the issue under the rug," she listed, enumerating the characteristics of the card as you saw in her mind the gears of her reasoning and years of tarot readings come into play specifically on your case. "It's pursuing your own self-interest discreetly and malignantly, or without others knowing. It's the card of the smooth talker, of the person who has an idea in the back of their head but doesn't express it..."

You were now convinced that this character was really you, escaping every moment to avoid Viktor and therefore your own feelings. You made yourself small on the high stool, the tarot deck didn't seem to give you the grace or respite to hide what you were feeling.

Eris' eyes landed on yours. "Is there something you're not telling me?" 

You weighed up the pros and cons, assessing how much Eris was going to jump on you about this news and how much you would have to suffer the incessant sound of her ‘I told you so's’. 

But, since she was your high priestess today, the great mistress of secrets, she would know how to keep yours safe from everyone.

"I think..." you began.

"That happens?"

"Shut up," you laughed nervously, relaxing a little more. "I think I'd rather talk about it once we get to the end of the reading."

She was intrigued, no doubt, and although she was certainly dying to know what else you were hiding, she restrained herself and straightened up to continue with the reading.

"After this perpetual deception," her fingers full of rings and tattoos slid to tap her fingernail on the two of swords, "we have a meeting."

You came to press the heels of your palms into the hollows of your eyes, letting your fingers comb your roots. "Not again."

"Relax," reassured Eris, "as far as swords are concerned, it's an encounter with the mind, and therefore of two ideas. Only, if the ideas are two, it's because they're not identical; if they're not identical, it's because they're not going in the same direction; if they're not going in the same direction, it's because they contradict each other."

She took the card in her hands, bringing it to face you so that you confronted her.

"Now you're stuck between two contradictory things with no way of getting past them, and since there's nothing you can do about it, you're going to pretend not to see the contradiction because in any case," she pointed to the previous seven of swords, "you were already lying to yourself."

You bit the inside of your gums, suppressing your own shame at believing you had an ‘allergy’ around Viktor or to Demacia that made you feel that way.

She patted the crescent on the card. "The moon is just present enough to understand that it's night, even if the light of the very first crescent isn't enough to see clearly - you don't yet have the means to find your own way, and so you can't move on, perhaps it's even better that you came to me to untangle all this." Her finger passed over the figure. "Behind it, the sea where reefs outcrop and extend below the surface. It's blind sailing, you could be shipwrecked, and that fear is expressed throughout the card - since you can't see clearly, you freeze."

What were you supposed to do after all? You'd never loved before, you didn't know what to do or how to react, so you were stuck in this constant doubt that was eating away at you bit by bit.

"The blindfold represents the refusal to see that the two ideas are contradictory and therefore impossible to hold together." She crossed her arms over her chest to mimic the posture of the figure on the card. "She has her arms crossed defensively to protect her chest or her heart, but she can't stay like that forever especially when she's carrying those two swords." She relaxed her posture and placed both hands flat on the counter. "Basically, whatever happens, getting out of this position will hurt, so either you get rid of both ideas, which can be painful, or you get rid of both to follow a third path, which can be twice as painful."

You watched the character carefully in this landscape of such cold tones, at this edge where she was in danger of toppling backwards. It was a dangerous and frightening concept to have to let down this guard you had spent so much time building up. For your own good, you thought, but was it honestly the right protection?

"So, the two of swords is a representation of being trapped by contradictory ideas," she continued as a conclusion to the card. "For example, values inculcated by education, and personal values that are opposed to them." She shrugged her shoulders and relaxed them with a sigh. "Whatever it is, it's being stuck between a rock and a hard place and not moving for fear it'll get worse. Which is exactly what the seven of swords was telling us just now."

She took the seven in hand with the two, one card per hand.

"The scoundrel on the seven is facing three different directions, his feet are going to the left, his body is facing us, but his head is looking to the right towards the two of swords who may have picked up the two blades stuck in the ground of the seven and locked herself in this lie that is so addictive."

You watched the two cards side by side, their links complementing each other almost disturbingly well. Eris put down the seven of swords, keeping the two in her hand.

"You avoid conflict at all costs, you avoid responding, committing yourself, making a difficult decision to protect your peace. It's a card that shows you thinking that perhaps if you ignore the problem long enough, it will eventually resolve itself. Is that how you feel?"

You chewed the inside of your lip, nodding. What was the point of hiding this when you were out in the open after all. "In sums, yes."

"Hm," Eris hummed, gazing at you as if trying to work out which issue this feeling was about. "Now, this dilemma of being stuck in a balance of power that neither cracks nor moves forward, where might that lead you?"

Her index and middle fingers together, they hovered over the Two of Wands as her other hand set the Two down. 

"Remember the Two of Wands? From our reading during the holidays," she asked.

You racked your brains, trying to remember things that seemed so long ago. "Something about an encounter, evaluating things, desire, reality... applying my own will to the world?"

She snapped her finger, pointing at you. "Good, we're still a bit in that," she placed the three of wands on the metal. "What happens after evaluation?"

You shook your head thoughtfully, frowning. "... Attack?"

"Conquest," corrected Eris. "As you no doubt know by now, wands are the colour of desire."

She rolled up the sleeves of her long-sleeved t-shirt, revealing her tattoos. 

"Desire is a dynamic. It's not an envy - when you get the object of your envy, your craving, well, that's the end of it. Desire, on the other hand, expands and pushes us further and further ahead." She nodded."‘One-night stands happen because you have an envy that can be satisfied before you move on to something else." 

Her eyes lowered to the card, her fingers brushing against it. "When you really want someone, on the other hand, you want to go further, to conquer them. The same goes for a project in the general sense, since it only makes sense if it allows us to grow, extend our influence or give our creativity room to express itself."

Your cheeks warmed slightly. Conquer Viktor? Put like that, the idea seemed ridiculous. You thought back to your overconfidence during the game of the werewolf where you pressed your knee against his.

Eris' fingers ran over the card. "Ships bring back the idea of a voyage that is launched, they leave initiated by the man who watches over them, unless they arrive to bring back news or food from other countries." They drifted over the varnish, gliding over the colours. "The mountains in the background suggest height, domination, success, ambition: this is the greatness that awaits those who know how to take their desire far." They reached the central element. “As for the man, he wears a red garment made up of several pieces. He is not afraid to confront the world, even if it means losing some of his feathers. He wears the headband of the Magician, a symbol of discipline - his mind is firmly fixed on a goal and he doesn't waver."

Could you be that agent of success? When and how could you get out of this heavy contemplation and achieve its stability?

"This is the card of broadening horizons and conquest," continued Eris on a slightly more positive note than the previous two cards, "of expansion, of development, of great discoveries. It's an undeniable form of progress, whether in the field of study, the field of the mind, the field of romance, in short, it's about thinking big and going for it with confidence."

Part of you was happy to know that in the not too distant future, this situation you were in would be resolved. Another, however, feared that the outcome of this victory would be bitter.

"It's daring, courage, but above all having a vision of the bigger picture and realising that things are moving forward." She nodded. "They also say it's managing remote collaborators in commercial activities, international negotiations, or intervening to make a decision."

You had thought about exchanging a first letter with Garen and Fiora, but you didn't know whether you should wait out of politeness and etiquette for them to be the first to write anything, or whether you could put that pride aside and take the first step.

"Alright," clapped Eris, "now the shadow card." She pointed to the seven of wands. "As before, the seven-"

"It's going all the way, I know."

"Good," Eris smiled, "Good. With the seven, the creative three is supported by the stability of the four, so all the conditions are in place to see things through to the end. But to carry your desire through to the end, you have to endure obstacles," she pointed to the Two of Swords, “and problems,” then to the Seven of Swords. "The key word in this card is endurance, perfect for what you've been facing lately if you ask me."

Endurance, you weren't sure you liked that advice, not when you were enduring all this and would have preferred not to have to.

"Let's have a look," Eris pointed at the figure with the tip of her fingernail. "The man is standing on a high place, his two feet wide apart for maximum balance. Like the mountains on other cards," she redirected your attention to the three of wand for a moment, "this height symbolises a position conquered by the strength of the wrist, an achievement, an accomplishment."

"So," you reasoned aloud, "I'm going to triumph in this situation?"

Eris swung her head from side to side like a metronome. "It all depends on what victory would be for you in this case. He has a firm grip on the wand of his desire," she continued, "but his shoes are mismatched. Concentrating on his defence, he doesn't have time to ask himself whether his position is the right one."

Not even you were sure what would be the deliverance. To embrace your feelings for Viktor and set off down a road you'd never travelled before, letting yourself discover what attraction is all about, or to bury this idea inside you in the graveyard of ideas that will never blossom for safety's sake?"

"Here then," Eris clasps her hands together, "if there's one piece of advice to take away from this, it's that you have to stand your ground, prove yourself over time and don't let yourself give in or weaken. It's a defence card, a defence of your position, your values, your beliefs, your point of view."

"Okay," you nodded, "that I can do."

"But be careful," she raised her finger in the air, "this can also be a card that represents being too defensive, feeling attacked from all sides, taking any criticism or contradiction as a personal attack. It's having the impression that you constantly have to justify yourself, that everyone disapproves of your point of view and believing that the world is against you."

"And isn't that the case?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Decidedly, common sense is not a flower that grows in every garden," she sighed. "It can be, but it doesn't have to be. Here, what is suggested to you, is to remain faithful to your convictions without being aggressive and confrontational."

"So..." you looked at each of the cards, "I've got nothing to do?"

"Apart from some personal work, only time will tell," she picked up the cards, starting to put them away. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

You sighed, playing with your fingers nervously. Why was it so difficult to leave those words out? You'd told Eris about Viktor in the past, you'd confided in her everything and nothing, she was your best friend and you trusted her in every way. So why was your heart starting to race just thinking about Viktor?

"I..." you inhaled heavily. 

When you've got to go, you've got to go. 

"I think," your voice got very small, as if the whole of Zaun was expecting to hear the news in the hollow of your mouth.

Your tongue, your teeth, your lips knew that these words carried great weight, that his name in your mouth had a taste that no sweetness or poison could replicate.

Eris watched you, patient and impatient. 

Your eyes found a scratch in the metal countertop, your chest heaving as you mustered all your strength to push those words from your lips. 

"I think I have feelings for Viktor."

You felt breathless having said those few words, letting them live in the air as you kept them inside you. It was like opening the shutters of a room that had been marinating in the summer heat to the winter air.

You were a frozen steak tossed into a hot pan, your emotions rumbling in your heart and your words sizzling in the wild air. You knew that even the fiercest coals eventually mellowed and eventually died down, but you didn't know if you wanted this fire to fade at any moment.

You were afraid of meeting your friend's gaze again, of what her reaction would be. You'd rarely felt so out in the open, the butterflies that used to flutter in your belly now twirling in the air, destined to fly close to Eris' ears and nobody else's for the moment.

When the silence became too heavy, you finally met her gaze. Her eyes were wide, two emerald beads fixed on you as if a miracle had just happened.

"Wow," she managed to say after what seemed like an eternity.

"I know," you sighed, "it's so bad-"

"I don't think I've ever seen you love anyone or anything before," she cut in.

"I know," you buried your face in your hands, massaging your forehead, "I don't know what to do, or who cursed me with this."

"Only mountains never cross," Eris pointed out, "when did you realise this obvious fact?"

"It was-" you began, frowning, "hey."

"What?" Eris shrugged.

"Obvious? Really?’ you questioned, genuinely puzzled.

She huffed, inhaling gently through her nose as she combed her hair with her fingernails.

"I'm keeping calm and I talk to an adult about it."

"But you are an adult."

She watched you in dismay. ‘’ I remain an adult and I talk about it to a calm one."

You arched an eyebrow. "You're not answering the question."

She crossed her arms, her head tilting forward, eyes watching you through her long black lashes before only raising herself with a sigh. 

"You've never been obsessed with anyone in your life. He comes along, and he becomes your only topic of conversation until you mention him in your letters and you can't ignore him. What's more, if Selene herself had that spark of genius, how could you ignore her intractable instinct? And then there's your looks, and then the cards-’

"Okay, I get it, I'm being prodigiously stupid, as usual, no need to remind me,‘’ you cut short, your head jerking to the side as you watched the street. "What am I even supposed to do about this? It's all so weird and... foreign."

Eris stared at you for a moment, and although you knew she was incapable of doing so, you dreaded the thought of her judging you. She seemed to be observing you as if you were a species miraculously rediscovered and thought to be extinct.

"What do you think you should do about this?" she finally asked.

You looked at her, shrugging your shoulders and raising your eyebrows, testing the waters. "... Ignore the matter?"

She sighed as she turned away from the counter, probably to prepare for Renata's consultation. "This isn't a trick question, y'know."

"It feels like it is," you countered.

"Well," she pulled out two more tarot decks, "maybe you should stop considering that everything coming your way is a trap or that people getting close to you is by means of destroying you." She pointed to the deck in front of you that she'd just used. "Remember what the seven of wands said."

"I know but," you paused in your sentence, sighing as you nervously scratched the back of your neck, "it's hard not to think otherwise."

She laid out a velvet tablecloth on the small table inside for her consultations, grabbed an incense stick and placed it in her censer, lighting it with the lighter hanging from her belt. A blue almond sprouted from the stem, but she didn't even blow on it. 

"Look," she resumed, adjusting her emerald velvet armchairs by the table, "apart from the beginning of the year, do you feel like Viktor's intention towards you have been to destroy you?"

If you had to be honest, it now seemed that, looking back, you were the only one who had constantly tried to outdo him. Viktor was just having fun, you were competing for your life.

Eris noted your silence. "He's Jayce's best friend after all, would the golden boy truly hang with traitors?"

"Jayce is naive," you remarked, "he'd be friends with a sunflower if he thought the seeds formed a smile for him."

"Okay not to burst an ego bubble here," she raised her hands in the air as if to clear herself of what she was about to say, "but do you sincerely think someone like Viktor would willingly put that much effort into becoming a friend to you and putting up with your bullshit to then break all this progress by betraying you?"

There was some truth in what Eris was saying, when was there not after all? Viktor had worked so hard to gain your trust, and for you to give him yours. He was respectful, admirable, patient, and it infuriated you how perfect he could be - no doubt somewhere because you wished you could be all those things but couldn't or didn't get any consideration.

Eris planted her palms on the metal counter in front of you. "How bad is it?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow, the corner of her lips stretching upwards as she did so. "Surely it's not too bad since it's Viktor of all people."

"Everything reminds me of him and it's driving me insane!" you quietly tempered, the feeling of having your head roasted by the heat of his name going down to bake your heart. You buried your face in your hands. "Like," you mumbled through gritted teeth, "I need his face really near mine."

"It's like discovering a completely new you," Eris sneered. "I didn't know you were capable of feelings under all this steel that you call a heart."

"I envy everyone you have never met," you grumbled from her teasing.

“An envy but not a desire I see,” she laughed a bit, and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

From her face, amusement faded to leave place for concern. “Aren’t you tired of running?

You sighed, her question was legitimate. During your entire existence, you had ran away from so many things that you could not remember the last time you had stopped this. You had repressed your feelings, fled conflict, pretended things were alright when they were not. And now, there you were. Still running.

“I’ve raced my entire life,” you pointed out, “it’s all I know and all I’m good at.”

“Your legs need rest,” remarked Eris.

You shrugged. “The fear chasing me has no need for rest.”

“But you do,” her shoulder pointed to you, “they all say you have to face your fear to overcome it, so why not face it?”

“Well, that’s the whole principle of fear, isn’t it?”

“There’s only so many places avoidance can bring you to, but the final destination always brands the title of disappointment.” Her shoulders sagged, visibly tired of having to expand this idea to you. “I can only explain it to you, I can't understand it for you.”

Her smile was understanding as her gaze shifted to her left. Her smile went from friendly to professional, and you followed her glance.

From the main street, a woman with an unmistakable silhouette was approaching the both of you.

She was tall, dressed in a tailored suit with incredibly clean white trousers and jacket, her black vest hugging her waist with grace. Her heels clicked in the echo of the street as she walked with the weight of her confidence, two men following her like her shadow.

When the sun hit her silhouette, the gold and metallic contours of her outfit gleamed. Walking around Zaun in an ensemble like that was risky, but you knew that no one would dare approach her anyway.

Because you definitely recognised her. Her long ebony hair, lined with a strand as grey as cigarette ash, swept back from her freckled face, ensuring that anyone who came into contact with her magenta eyes, rimmed with a black sclera, would never forget her.

And so Renata Glasc walked towards you.

As she reached you, her scent caught your nostrils. Peppery, undoubtedly magnolia, with something warm, like the sun warming the raspberry hedges in summer, a fresh hint of curly mint tying it all together. Bewitching was one of the first words that came to mind to describe her.

"Madame Glasc," greeted Eris. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

Her gracefully lined eyes rested on Eris. "Good sunshine so early in the year can only be appreciated. Your cards will agree, I hope."

Her voice was deep, carrying a more sustained and noble accent than you would have expected, one you'd been more used to meeting and hearing when you'd rarely crossed paths with the Kirammans and Cassandra was chatting off to the side with Jayce.

Her fuchsia eyes shifted from hers to yours, and you felt very small under their weight. Eris wasted no time in keeping the silence.

"Madame Glasc, may I present Mademoiselle Phathe, whom I mentioned to you a short while ago." 

Sticking to surnames was preferable. It's a nasty game, even if you were expecting her to make enquiries about you that would go far beyond simply finding your first name.

She held out her hand, and you didn’t hesitate to shake it , maintaining her gaze with a sober politeness. Her grip was firm, but not so firm as to choke your fingers in a tourniquet.

"She has information that will certainly be useful in the case of... Tytos," Eris added.

Renata's eyes crinkled with interest, the pressure on your hand easing until it finally let go.

"So it is you," she remarked, intrigued, "I didn't expect you to be so...’’

You held your breath, trying to remain impassive. Offending a Chem Baron by your very existence was one of the most important things for anyone to avoid.

"Young."

You breathed out a quiet sigh of relief, the unpleasant tickle of anxiety running down the back of your neck.

"Yeah, that's how he preferred his investments."

The hint of sarcasm drew a breath from Renata's nose of laughter, the remark not seeming to displease her. She tilted her head back slightly, not necessarily looking down on you even though she was at least half a head taller, 

"I think it would be good to have a chat after this reading session, Miss Phathe," she indicated, turning back to Eris, "I would not wish to ruin your schedule for the afternoon by delaying this consultation."

"Of course," Eris nodded, turning to you, "if you'd like to you-"

"Don't worry, I'll wait here," your lips pressed into a thin line.

"Alright,’ she nodded, gripping the string holding a jalousie over the counter which she brought around until it covered the metal of it, crossing to the other side of her interior to invite Renata into her shop.

Renata turned to you before entering. "Forgive this rather hasty introduction, but it's preferable to keep it that way for the time being."

You nodded, hoping the gesture wouldn't seem too forced. "Of course."

She nodded, her and her bodyguards retreating into the mystical interior of Eris' shop while you remained outside, pondering the whole thing.

It was true that you tended to take everything as an attack, that you tended to think that danger was just around the corner to take away the life you had fought so hard to obtain.

And now that you'd managed to put your trust in someone new and so revealing inside, it terrified you.

What if he didn't love you? What if the attraction was only on one side? What if you risked hurting yourself even more by loving him and he didn't share that feeling or care?

It terrified you. You'd never had a friendship like this, so evolved, so strong and honest. Whenever you thought you were taking a step backwards, Viktor would grab the sleeve of your shirt and pull you towards him to stop you falling over a cliff.

No matter how hard you tried to back away, no matter how much you tried to pull away and ignore what you were feeling, he would always be there in the back of your mind, never moving, worrying and reassuring you. You were torn between what you knew, the solitude and security of routine, and the unknown, the possibility of being with someone, of breaking away from what you'd always known.

Your eyes roamed the street, letting the sun beat down on you, until they fell on a group of silhouettes not far away.

Had it been any other day, you would of course have remained on your guard and kept an eye on them, without continuing your observation of the group. But something caught your eye, a body among them that you seemed to recognise.

Your blood ran cold, your body freezing in place as the realization slapped you across the face. 

A man was there, in their midst, his paunch protruding from his trousers and his rolls of fat pressing against the straps of his trousers, dripping down the side like rotten dough. He was wearing a huge jacket, the sleeves rolled up over his limp arms. The sun shone on his bald head, the same bulldog head, the same small pig nose, brow and eyelids encroaching on his small, dark, squinty eyes. One of them was whitish, like a half-cooked egg.

Vome.

He didn't meet your gaze, seemingly taken elsewhere, and you hoped he would never turn to you or have the wit to recognise you. How could he still be alive? How-

Your train of thought came to a halt as three of the guys in his group started to move in your direction. 

Bad.

You quickly repacked your things in your satchel, getting up from the high stool to go the opposite way. You couldn't stay put. Even if it meant a chase, you couldn't afford to have them near you.

You could have simply knocked on Eris’ shop door, but couldn’t risk interrupting a meeting with a person as important as Renata if this turned out to be simple paranoia and not an actual threat.

You started walking, continuing straight on until you took the first street on your left. You didn't walk too fast, hoping that this paranoia would remain what it was and not the truth.

You turned slightly, falsely observing one of the price signs in the street, your peripheral vision finding them as they turned the corner.

Shit.

You kept going, faster this time, your heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself not to start running straight away. You turned into another street, moving a little faster, sure to lose them if you took another street or two, hoping-

"Ah! A ghost."

You turned on the spot, the unmistakable voice of the man haunting your thoughts day and night calling out to you.

Viktor.

Present at the worst possible moment.

What you did notice at the time was his outfit. He'd put on Zaunite clothes, just like you had.

On top of a cream shirt with rolled-up sleeves was an asymmetrical blood-red waistcoat, little belts with golden buckles criss-crossed over and around it. Black trousers emphasising his long, elegant legs led to badly polished boots. He fit in perfectly with the décor, and was handsome, handsome, handsome.

He walked towards you, his hand clutching his cane next to him, dressed in a mitten mixing leather and wool.

"I barely see you anymore," he explained in the face of your silence, "I didn't even recognise you at first."

You pressed your lips together and frowned, nervous. "Really?"

"No," he cut in, obviously.

Surprisingly, the very idea of Viktor forgetting you made your heart ache - but you didn't have time for this new panic. You turned to see if they were still behind you, and it was when you saw them pass the end of the street in confusion that you turned back to Viktor and grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise.

He said nothing as you pulled him into the first dark alleyway you found just a few metres from you. Once you were bathed in the gloom, you turned your head towards the entrance of the street, waiting for them to arrive at any moment.

"What is-" 

You didn't give Viktor time to finish his sentence, pushing him forward until his back was pressed against the wall and your palm covered his lips. He looked at you with bewildered eyes, and you tried not to concentrate on the feel of his lips against your fingers.

"You gotta stay quiet," you whispered through gritted teeth, your eyes boring into his.

Your gaze drifted across the open street, every silhouette and shadow on the sunlit ground making your heart race. How could you hear anything other than the beating of your heart in your ears as the stress vibrated through you and the feel of Viktor's skin against yours teamed up?

He towered over you, even in his stillness, his shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm in your peripheral vision. So close, you could smell him more distinctly. His coffee, or maybe rather coffees of the day permeated his jacket, mingling with that smell of hot stone in the sun and the fresh, sharp point of basil.

You tried to concentrate on the street, not giving him a glance even though you wanted to get away from him as much as you wanted to be close to him.

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt Viktor's wet tongue lick the pads of your fingers, causing you to immediately remove your hand from his mouth and take a step back. You watched in amazement as he moistened his lips with his tongue.

"What is going on?" he asked, his accent categorical as he frowned.

You watched the end of the street, breathing heavily as you turned to face him in panic, the feeling of his saliva still inking your fingers as, for a reason that escaped you, you couldn't get yourself to wipe off.

You moved towards him again, trying to breathe more slowly as you kept your voice low. "They're going to hear us if you don't keep quiet."

"Good," his eyes crinkled for a moment, "what's been going on lately?"

You sighed, your tongue forming a tent against your cheek as you looked away from him, lowering your head to the ground. You couldn't get your mind off the Vome men following you, if that was really the case, and still couldn't let your guard down and your nerves.

Perhaps they had passed by in the meantime, perhaps they had turned back, or changed the street, and were therefore allowing you to relax.

You set your eyes on him again, parting your lips to say-

"Hey, you."

You clenched your jaw as you closed your eyes, hoping the moment would dissipate, that the call had come from somewhere else to someone else in a nearby alley. 

You waited a few seconds, reopening your eyelids to see Viktor, whose head was turned towards the street opening. With a sigh, you followed his gaze to find the three men standing not far from you.

"Yeah, you," resumed the same voice, belonging to the one in the middle who was a pale young man, shaved head with a nasty burn eating half his face, the other half covered in tattoos. "What did you have to say to Renata?"

You breathed in, feeling Viktor's gaze return to you. You hoped at the time that he wouldn't get the wrong idea.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, hoping they'd fall for getting the wrong person.

"Don't try to fool me," sneered the latter, advancing towards you with slow steps, the others following him.

One was stockier and taller, with a blond bowl cut that didn't help his ungainly, pimply physique. He seemed profoundly stupid, his only asset being brute strength. If you were going to get the better of him, you'd have to make sure he didn't catch you.

The other was skinny and smaller, his dark skin looking dull and desaturated as his lime-green locks fell over black eyes whose white had turned yellow. He seemed faster, quicker and ready to throw a lot of punches.

These two no doubt complemented each other in their fighting style, and you'd have to find a way of balancing them out if you had to come to blows.

"We saw you outside the other girl's shop with her cards," continued what appeared to be their mini-boss.

You turned slightly towards Viktor, keeping your eyes on the trio as you placed your satchel to the ground. "What's your tolerance for risk?" you asked him.

You didn't see his reaction, simply heard his reply. "‘Risk' is a four letter word."

Your shoulders slumped in dismay. "Phenomenal."

"The best defence is flight," he remarked, "at worst, I die."

"Let's not get to good news like that too quickly," you muttered nervously, sarcasm taking its place again as your legs shifted slightly to one side, preparing yourself for an attack.

"Just tell me what she said, and I'll leave you and your boyfriend with less bruising than you expected."

The appellation boyfriend that he had attributed to Viktor only served to raise your hands in the air, one at your waist and the other rising to your chest. If only these two swords of uncertainty had given you their weapons, you'd know what choice to make to get out of this situation.

"Miss, what is happening?" questioned Viktor.

Your eyes fell on the other two, who continued to advance on either side, trying to surround you. "Just stay back."

"You could have made this easier for yourself by just telling us," sighed the man, "but at least I'll have some entertainment today."

The air remained static for a moment, the two young men standing motionless. Who would strike first? Who would engage in this fight? You tightened your fists so as not to damage them any more than necessary.

And in a breath of clenched teeth mixed with disinterest, their boss confirmed.

"Get her."

It was the dreadlocked who stepped forward first, moving so quickly that you recoiled in astonishment, managing at the last moment to dodge a blow towards the rib he was trying to send.

You glanced at the mass of the second behind him who was advancing, breathing heavily like a bull seeing red. 

"Get her Stex!" shouted the latter.

Your attention then returned to your opponent, this Stex with eyes betraying advanced alcoholism in a body that shouldn't know such pain so early on in life. He was about your age, if not older, and his sparring partner didn't look far off either.

A horrible idea came to you. But you tried to push it away.

This slight distraction cost you a heavy blow to the jaw, quickly bringing you back to reality as your legs made work on keeping your standing while blood mixed with your saliva.

He was quick, efficient, moving as if his body had no mass and he was made solely of springs. When you tried to send him a left hook, he easily eluded it before expelling the air out of your lungs in two strong, fast punches.

Stex sent another swift blow towards your head which you dodged, taking advantage of the fact that his arm was still close to you to find an opening under it at the rib, delivering a swift blow which made him bend over and grunt. His head snapped up at you, nose wrinkled and ready to bare his teeth as he pushed you back towards the wall.

Your back hit the stone of it, your breath caught and you didn't even have time to lean forward to get your head between your knees as Stex pressed his forearm against your throat and found himself a few centimetres away from you.

His furious, bulging eyes were fixed on yours.

"Last chance to speak," he barked.

And as you gasped for air, your eyes drifted to the shoulder of the arm that was strangling you, roving over its skin and finding a detail you recognised. Hidden beneath the ink of his enormous tattoo was the tender skin of a distinctive burn. Your eyes returned to his, and you found yourself filled with hopes and fears.

‘’You were one of them?" you managed to croak.

His eyes widened, the pressure lessening enough for his grip to weaken on you. 

Now.

Your knee shot up and slammed into his liver, Stex grunting in pain and folding in half as you kneed him in the face before sending your fist against his jaw. He fell to the ground and you came to grab his face with both hands, his bottom lip hanging down lazily as one of his eyes was starting to swell shut and you landed a hard headbutt.

He fell to the ground, stunned. He must have been a formidable foe, relying solely on his speed and power of execution, except that once he was caught, it was all over. But the fight in itself wasn't yet.

Your attention returned to the big guy. You'd eliminated one of them, but the other one was still hanging around, and he seemed to be quite upset that you'd dealt with his friend so quickly.

He was charging towards you, and you tried to dodge him, to move to the side in the hope of tiring him out over time with rapid movements, but he grabbed you around the waist and threw you against some shabby old boxes, their wood cracking under the impact of your body hitting the ground and exploding in a cloud of rotting dust.

You ached like hell, gritting your teeth as you felt that the bruises that would form on your body would not make it any easier to sit in class. You opened your eyes again, the big guy had both of his fists raised in the air ready to flatten you.

You rolled onto your side, the impact not hitting you as your eyes landed on a metal bar. Every street in Zaun had its own waste, and for luck here you must not have been far from a pipe factory.

You caught it, coming back to your feet with some difficulty as you turned to face him. He tried to catch you again, but with a well-tuned leap to the side, you evaded him and managed to hit his thigh.

He let out a cry of pain, turning to you like a disgruntled child. You swung the self-made weapon back to prepare to strike again, but as you brought it down he caught it, a displeased pout on his face as he bent the metal of your weapon in one simple motion of his fist.

He laughed contentedly at your exorbitant eyes, your gaze shifting from him, to the bar twisted like a boomerang, to him again, and you gave him a big smile.

He seemed surprised by the gesture, and you took the opportunity to spit in his eye. He stepped back in disgust and started to whinge. Without missing a beat, you hit him in the face with your now twisted bar, making him turn on his side, joining his two hands full of fingers as big as sausages on his nose, which you had apparently just broken from the repeating ‘my nose! My nose!’ that he blurted, and thus allowing you to hit him in the back of the head.

He fell to the ground, knocked unconscious.

Out of breath, clutching the metal in your hand until your knuckles turned white, you inhaled sharply. 

Viktor.

The name resonated in your mind like an uncontrollable echo.

You turned suddenly towards the wall he'd been against before, but nobody was there.

"Fun little show you gave."

You turned around, it was the voice of the man who had started the fight. You swallowed and your heart nearly stopped as your eyes fell on Viktor, his neck caught in the man's forearm as he kept him in a headlock.

He was holding him there, almost suffocating him. Nostrils flaring with anger, you advanced towards him.

"Ah-ah-ah," he crooned, stopping you in your tracks.

Then you saw it, like a shard of the sun in his hand - the blade of his knife drawn, pointing at Viktor's side. 

Your heart sank instantly, your eyes returning to Viktor's as he watched you. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to be under any stress. Maybe he hadn't seen the blade, you thought.

"Now," said the shaven-headed man, "tell me what you said-"

But he never finished his sentence, because in an instant, Viktor had planted his cane in his feet and the next second, with a speed that escaped you, had struck it on the nose of this kidnapper.

The impact sent him reeling backwards, leaving Viktor to extricate himself from his embrace and turn towards him to grip the wood of his cane with both hands, rest his balance on his good leg and send a blow with the pommel into the man's temple like a baseball bat meeting a ball.

He fell with the shock, and Viktor hopped a couple of steps before bringing his cane back onto the ground and repositioning himself neatly.

He turned to you, and for a moment, relief settled in your chest. He's safe and sound. He's all right. Everything's alright.

"Are you okay, Miss?"

And that nickname, which almost made your head spin, took your breath away for a moment, and reminded you of your situation. Without further ado, you gripped your bag from the ground and grabbed his wrist again to pull him out of the street. You had to get out of here while the three of them were knocked out.

You walked fast, almost running, getting as far away from this scene of stress and adrenaline as you could while you still had the strength. You had to get back to Eris' shop at all costs, you had to find shelter, you had to make sure everything was going to be alright.

"Miss, please, slow down."

Viktor's voice was breathless as his hand pulled from your embrace to grab yours, stopping you in your tracks as your steps had become automatic.

You turned towards him, panting heavily, your gaze falling on your clasped hands, and in an instant you already felt reassured.

You took a heavy breath, keeping it locked between your ribs before very slowly letting it go, the relief of being out of that terrible scene helping your arms and legs to relax.

The feel of Viktor's hand was warm, welcoming despite its callus, and anchored you in the moment more than any breathing exercise.

It was also an anxiety that these feelings brought to you – how could he bring you so much hope, so much comfort, so much warmth?

"I know we said we'd race," he exhaled out of breath, your eyes moving from your hands to his own, "but without a warm-up I can't keep up with you.’’

And he was still able to joke at a time like this, to turn the state of his leg, which you'd probably just pushed to the limit with your stress, into a simple joke.

You realised even more how thoughtless you'd been, how you'd neglected his aches and pains during those seconds of racing out of fear.

You looked behind him, then around to see where you were. Just a street away from Eris' shop.

You felt his thumb caress the top of your palm, bringing your attention back to him.

"Miss," he began, and you prayed that his thumb being so close to your wrist wouldn't notice the heartbeat that had made your pulse race, "what is going on?"

The question was so vast, so heavy, so dangerous for him to know. Dangerous not only because sending him this information might add a name to the list of people aware of the affair, but above all dangerous because you dreaded the reaction he would have towards you.

Would he be disgusted?

The question weighed heavily in your stomach, and you tried to soften the blow by swallowing.

"I," you began, then feeling the burn of your lip. 

Split. 

"I cannot tell you everything yet," you breathed out, "all I can tell you is that..."

You looked around again, as if talking about this fact and opening up about it was going to be the trigger for a second attack.

"Some ill-intentioned people are looking to eradicate evidence, evidence-" you inhaled as you regained his face, "that might bring their business to an end."

He frowned, obviously intrigued by how little information you were giving him.

"Are you..." he began, the grip of his hand on yours already softer, "in trouble?"

Your eyes were locked in his, where curiosity mixed with a pinch of concern and one last ingredient you couldn't quite decipher - and it was making you feel warm.

"Constantly," you confessed.

His eyes never left yours, the feel of his skin against yours reassuring you, cradling your heart, spreading a balm of warm orange light on it. 

Sadly, the realisation that you might not be back in time to discuss things with Renata clenched your gut, and you tensed up.

Your eyes fell on your bound hands, you didn't feel like separating them, but you had to before the urge persisted and consumed you. You withdrew your fingers, not without disappointment, which Viktor surprisingly seemed to share just as much.

"I have to get to Eris' shop," you explained, your fearful eyes again checking every street corner and passing silhouette.

"Our day seems to have that in common," he admitted.

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Really? Why?"

"I won't give you an answer to that when my previous questions have been left hanging," he replied, shrugging both shoulders and eyebrows before frowning again.

There was no need to ask about the nature of his questions. Viktor was intelligent, observant, and in your case he had obviously picked up on this detached behaviour.

But how to tell him? How could you tell him that everything in you was filled with him to the brim, like the wallpaper covering every wall of your house that you could only escape by leaving?

You couldn't, not yet, at least not when you were aching all over after such a sudden scene.

"Let's just... head back there," you regained his eyes, not without difficulty or guilt, "please."

He sighed heavily, seeming to chew the inside of his cheek before nodding. Your lips didn't even have the strength to offer him a smile as you both began to walk in silence towards Eris' shop.

Your back was aching, and you could feel the stabbing pain in your jaw, but you didn't let it show. Despite the pain, you were distracted elsewhere.

How much longer would Viktor put up with your inability to open up? When would he find nothing but tiredness and disappointment in this interminable waiting that was failing to bear fruit? When would he give up his persistence, his seeking?

When would he give up on you?

You glanced at him discreetly from the side, wondering what he was thinking, whether he had already begun the process of abandoning you.

But these troubles were put aside when, on reaching Eris' shop, she opened the door and Renata and your friend came out. You noticed the confusion in the Tarot reader's eyes at your absence on her high stool, and then met her gaze which, in an instant, darkened with concern. Renata followed her glance, frowning.

When you reached them, they joined you, cutting the short space between you, Renata's two guards keeping their distance but remaining attentive.

"What happened?" Eris asked, approaching you, her hands floating up to your face to check the damage.

By reflex, your eyes sought out the place where the group from which these three lunatics had extracted themselves to come to you had previously been located - vacant. There was no-one there, no sign of a group like that in the street, no Vome in sight. Your shoulders dropped at the news, redirecting your gaze to Renata, who seemed just as curious.

"A group of three, they seemed to be under the orders of..." your sentence faded a little, turning your head towards Viktor before regaining Renata's gaze, "someone implicated in the case."

Renata's piercing eyes landed on Viktor, and you repressed the reflex to stand in front of him. He had no business here, in a dark case that would bring him nothing but trouble.

"What were they after?" questioned Eris, moving away from you after observing the damage they'd left behind.

"Me, or, well," you crossed your arms over your chest, "the information I had." You turned your head towards Renata. "They saw us talk, and thought they could extricate something off me."

"And," Renata turned her head slightly to one side, watching you like an eagle, "did you lend them this information?"

Viktor lowered his head, chuckled softly to the side, all three of your stares falling on him.

"Did I say anything funny?" questioned Renata, her calm, serious tone almost sending a chill down your spine if it weren't for the fact that it was burning with pain.

Viktor raised his head, his amber eyes falling into Renata's magenta ones.

"I think you could not have chosen a better person if you intend to keep things secret."

He turned to you, his words a mixture of your usual playful condescension and respectful truth.

"The three of them are knocked out in a street nearby," you continued, turning back to the Chem-Baroness. 

"A bit more than knocked out..." commented Viktor, chin pointing to his chest as his eyes seemed to observe the ground.

Renata's eyes went from yours to Viktor's. She was probably wondering who he was, and whether he could be trusted to be here or not.

"I see," she remarked, not sounding angry, but simply annoyed by the news. "Mademoiselle," she addressed you, "in case a simple interaction with me could put you in danger on these streets, I think it would be a good idea to postpone our discussion to another day. What's more," her eyes flicked to Viktor for a moment before settling back on you and observing your condition, "I think you need to get some rest after all this. I want you to have a clear mind for this conversation."

You nodded, surprised at her professionalism and magnanimity. You shouldn't have been, a woman of her standing could well have ordered you to confess everything on the spot if she so wished, but she hadn't done so.

"Agreed," you accepted.

"Good," she confirmed, turning to Eris, then back to you, then to Viktor. "Given the circumstances, I feel obliged to ensure your safety. Outcoln?"

One of her two guards stepped forward, a stocky, athletic man who must have been in his forties. He was easily a head or two taller than you, his broad shoulders seeming to give no respite to the compressed fabric of his shirt. Outcoln, or so was apparently his name, stood in front of you.

"He will ensure that your return is without further problems," Renata indicated. "And for you, Mademoiselle," she continued, turning to Eris, "I'll make sure you have a bodyguard to keep you safe. If there are going to be any more confrontations of this kind, I think it would be a good idea to take a few safety precautions. Needless to say, it's impossible to haggle over this."

You exchanged a glance with Viktor, already dreading a silent return covered by the tension of an unknown third party spying on you. Eris didn't seem any more delighted than you were, but as Renata had just said, bargaining wasn't an option.

"Well, I am very sorry that this presentation had to be made in such a disastrous manner, but I am expected," Renata greeted, turning to you. "I'll send you a letter with information about the date and place of the appointment."

You found nothing to reply but nodded, and with that, accompanied by her second guard, she left.

Outcoln moved slightly away from you, keeping you in sight but letting you talk in private.

"Seriously," Eris was the one to cut the silence, "bodyguards?" She giggled. "That'll ruin my clientele."

"Not necessarily," Viktor remarked, "I was just coming in to do a little purchase."

You turned towards him, his eyes meeting yours. Eris raised her eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Mhm," he confirmed, nodding, "could we...?" his eyes drifted towards the shop door.

"I don't turn away customers that are my friend's friend," she smiled, moving towards the entrance of the shop, turning to you for a moment, "especially not those of my bruised friends who I'm going to give a few things to."

You rolled your eyes, letting Viktor enter before you, glancing at Outcoln who seemed deeply unperturbed.

The interior of Eris' shop welcomed you like a shawl wrapped around your shoulders after a day out in the cold. You would have liked to grab one of the velvet consultation armchairs, pulling it slightly towards you before sitting down, but instead you headed for the back of the shop you knew so well.

"I'll be back there," you signalled, placing your bag on the floor before disappearing from the room, leaving Viktor and Eris free to discuss what he had come here for.

The back of the shop was reached after passing through a curtain of wooden pearls leading to a room with a ceiling whose colour you could no longer see as hundreds of bouquets of dried plants hung from it. On your right, a whole wall of small drawers rose up until they disappeared among bundles of laurel, thyme and pope's coin.

On each drawer was a label indicating its contents, and in your youth you used to enjoy reading them all and opening them to contemplate these special treasures. You remembered each individual one.

Like the drawers at the very top, almost touching the ceiling, which you had to climb up the little ladder to get to that contained bath salts and volatile salts, grains of anis, cinnamon bark and zapota seeds, dried fruits, bunches of little red berries that you crushed between your fingers and rubbed on your clothes to make them smell good as you said affirmations.

On the lower levels were floral and medicinal oils, decoctions, teas in powder and leaf form, sachets of Ionian pepper, multicoloured scented tablets and ribbons, candles, metalised scented sealing waxes, violet oil ink for lovers' letters, varnished rosewood quill holders, exotic feathers as turquoise as the sea flecked with scarlet and gold freckles that curled like strands of hair, small ebony boxes and chests to hold jewellery, elongated wooden incense holders with hand-painted embellishments and more complex enamel pottery as variegated and crackled as a desert.

In the drawers at waist and hip level were the balms and pommades, the bandolines, the brilliantines, the ointments, the creamy soaps made from cut flowers that children in Ixtal were said to soap their bellies with. You knew, without a doubt, that when Eris came here in a moment, she'd be looking for a pot full of animal fat or resin mixed with comfrey and other medicinal herbs that she knew so well.

On the other wall you turned towards, surrounded by a few cupboards, was Eris' work surface where unfinished products lay. She had placed her sewing pad stuffed with nutmeg flowers on her desk, tying a plum ribbon around a small sachet of lavender and embroidering a sigil with a fine gold thread.

In large glass jars to the side of her lamp, with its shade made of tinted glass joined together to form butterflies and flowers, were pots-pourris and bowls for putting flower petals.

You moved towards the latter, taking your place on the stool with a grunt, clearing any utensils from the cushion before letting your arms hang between your legs as you gently placed the side of your jaw that hadn't been bruised on the pillow.

The little click and slide of the seeds under your skin was pleasant as the weight of your head sank slightly, relaxing the tense muscles in your neck and shoulders.

You breathed out gently, thinking back over the whole scene that had just happened, closing your eyelids. When would you rest? 

It had been years since everything had ended, well, supposedly ended, and yet here you were, facing these ghosts of the past. You thought back to Stex, to his yellow eyes, to the soft skin beneath his scarred tattoo. 

You tried not to get carried away, to rationalise. Everyone here had scars, that was nothing new. You had yours, Eris had hers, Viktor probably had some. It was nothing unusual, although it should have been, but you stopped asking yourself those questions a long time ago.

You thought back to the contact of your fists against his dry skin, the muffled grunts from the blows, your fingers clenched against your palm...

Viktor's saliva on the inside of your fingers.

You turned your face to plunge it into the cushion to find the coolness of the jagged, thick crimson arils, hoping that the mace would ease the heat in your cheeks.

Why did he keep making it harder for you not to fall for him?

How could he make such tiny gestures that naturally wouldn't matter and turn them into an emotional loop for you?

The pearls at the entrance clinked in their usual hollow wooden tinkle, and you didn't need to look up to see who had just entered.

"So," began Eris, "rough day for you isn't it."

You let out a long sigh from your lungs, turning your head to the side to face her.

"What can I say," you growled, "they just can't get enough of me."

"I wonder what it is," she smiled "changed your perfume? Put something in your hair?"

"Slept less than five hours last night, my only meal was a coffee and I don't think I even took care of my hair before going out."

"Irresistible routine," huffed Eris, "you sold it to me so well I might just start using it if it gets me into so many new exciting situations."

You smiled, and your lip reopened in burning discomfort, making the skin on your nose wrinkle.

"Where are you hurt?" she questioned.

You readjusted the position of your head on the cushion. "Apart from a few punches in the jaw, the belly and my entire spine clicking back together thanks to the sweet kiss of a wall, I have a bit of a headache."

You could already see her opening the balm-filled drawers with a sigh, taking one of them between her fingers, closing that drawer with a flick of her hip as her free hand reached for one in front of her head and she stood on tiptoe as she flipped through tea bags like files.

During this frantic search, you replayed the scene in your head as the adrenaline drained from your system, giving way to pain.

You breathed in. "One of them had..." you hesitated in your words, staring into space, "I don't know if what I saw is true, but one of them wore his mark."

Eris turned to you, her searching movements slowing drastically as she paid attention to you. 

"You think the guys that attacked you were...?"

"Might have been," you agreed, "I didn't think that was possible, I thought..."

But you didn't know, to tell the truth. You sometimes thought back to that fateful night, to those events so fully etched in the memory of your skin that every glance in the mirror brought you back to the same situation where you came across that black beast in the reflection and could only lower your eyes to face it.

"I don't know," you admitted, the events had not yet decanted sufficiently for you to be able to draw a satisfactory conclusion.

Eris said nothing, simply nodding as she continued her little research.

"How was the reading with Renata?" you asked all the same.

She giggled, as if impressed. "I feel like I've had the epitome of success in my living room."

"Really?" 

"First card she draws," she began as she retrieved from her hand a few packets from which she checked the ingredients, "the 4 of pentacles, in other words, a little too firm a grip on her finances."

"This isn't starting so well," you commented.

"That was her card from the past," she remarked, pointing to the ceiling with a tea bag pinched between her fingers like a small card. "Then, she drew the seven of pentacles, which is the reward for patience and progress. And after that, the nine of pentacles, the true financial independence that allows you to afford whatever you want." 

She closed her drawer, where she seemed to have found everything she needed, before turning to a cupboard not far from you and opening it. 

"As luck would have it, the shadow card turns out to be the Page of Swords, it's full of new ideas and curiosity, so it's about keeping an open mind if you like."

You huffed. "If she could spare me that chance it wouldn't be refused."

"Don't worry, the tide will turn," she commented as she pulled out a craft bag into which she placed all these little things together. "Everything changes eventually, nothing stays static forever."

Your two hands touched, still hanging in the void, your fingers tracing where you'd felt his tongue.

"And Viktor?" you couldn't help asking.

She gave you a knowing look. "Intrigued, eh?"

"Please don't start. I've had a bad enough day already," you grumbled as you closed your eyelids for a moment, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the fact that you'd have to get up from that chair and walk all the way home.

She giggled. "He came," she began, opening a cupboard above your head and grabbing a deck of cards identical to yours, "for this."

You frowned, your headache not improved by the gesture as your eyes moved from the illustration on the tarot box to Eris.

"For a Tarot deck?"

"Mhm," she confirmed, "believe it or not, he's clearly interested. I showed him various models but he absolutely wanted this one. He even asked for a more comprehensive book on Tarot reading."

"Really?" you questioned, deeply surprised.

"Absolutely," she smiled before closing the cupboard door and crossing her arms as she pressed her hip to the desk counter, "I have my theory as to why but unfortunately I don't think your disillusionment is ready for it."

"Nor my tired body," you breathed heavily, painfully lifting your head from the cushion to take a step towards the immense challenge that was simply standing up. "I have to go, otherwise I might fall asleep right here."

"You? Sleep?" she giggled. "And I thought your superhuman abilities went beyond your physical body."

"I know," you replied in the same tone as you pressed your palms against her work surface and pushed on them with two trembling arms to get up. "So it would seem that miracles have their limits."

You managed to get to your feet, legs wobbling. The adrenalin had finally given way to tiredness, and you followed Eris out of the back of the shop with an undecided step. She passed you the bag she'd filled with lots of little treatments, and you didn't need to ask how to use them, out of habit from years ago.

Near the counter, Viktor seemed to be observing the shelves and his surroundings. Eris returned to the checkout as you came to stand by the entrance. She announced the price, but Viktor made no comment as he took out his wallet and handed what was due to her. He didn't even wait for her to give him the change and tell her to keep it, simply took the bag, wishing her a good day and joining you at the exit.

"I'll write to you," you said to your friend before leaving, Viktor following close behind.

Outside, you found Outcoln, who hadn't moved a particle of dust. You exchanged a look with Viktor.

‘’Did you have nothing else to do here?" you checked with him.

"No, you?"

You shook your head. "No."

Great. Now the situation seemed awkward.

He simply nodded, staring off into the distance before him. "Would you... like to go home together?"

You almost laughed, and he turned his frown-covered gaze back to you. "If you think I'm going to let you walk home alone after what happened, you're wrong."

The ghost of a smile passed over his lips before he started walking, and you exhaled a heavy breath with difficulty. You were afraid of making a false step, of saying something stupid, of making the situation worse. 

You reached his level, walking at his pace until you passed Outcoln and he began to follow you at a sufficient distance for you to be able to hold a conversation without being overheard if, by chance, you started one despite what you thought was a climate of tension and uncertainty.

But Viktor's curiosity won out over the silence. “When I came to the café today, you weren't there,” he turned his head towards you as you walked to what appeared to be the cable car station. "Why did you come here today?"

"Regular Tarot reading with Eris," you replied, looking straight ahead.

He did the same. "Those happen often?"

"Every now and then, when there's time."

"What did it say?"

You earned his gaze as you turned towards him. "Curious?"

"Why would I be asking otherwise."

He had a point. "Personal things."

"Troubling things?"

"Sort of," you sighed.

"Huh," he frowned, his gaze taking in the arrival of the cable car in the distance, descending through the cable linking it to the surface. "You also came to see Renata, didn't you?"

You lowered your head. "Yes."

He glanced back, watching Outcoln, still as inflexible as ever. "I see."

You finally reached the cable car stop, which was deserted at the time and was not carrying anyone in its gondola. Silence returned as you waited for the vehicle to arrive, and its weight pressed down on your shoulders more than you would have preferred.

What was he thinking? He was from Zaun after all and was undoubtedly aware of Glasc's personality, so did he disapprove of you making contact with her? Cogitations can only take you so far, and sometimes you have to act.

So you plucked up your courage, turned to him and stared off into space.

"Does that make you see me otherwise?" you asked.

You felt his eyes on you, and your chest tightened in anticipation. He stayed like that for a while, until the cable car pulled up and its doors opened. Then he turned towards the entrance, and your eyes finally found the strength to rest on him.

"It just adds more to how surprising you are," he conceded before stepping inside. Your shoulders slumped as you climbed in after him.

He moved towards the back of the chamber, taking a seat by the window. "You're not going to desert me from such surprise, right?"

He sat down and watched you, standing hesitantly in front of him. He tilted his head to one side, and the afternoon sun beat down on his cheek.

"Even if you asked me to leave your life yourself," he began without taking his eyes off you, "I think the only thing that would make me desert you would be death."

Your heart skipped a beat, your lips parted in surprise. You hadn't expected such determination, such loyal determination from anyone about you. You didn't know to what you owed this unshakeable conviction and, dazed, since you knew that Viktor didn't bother to lie, you couldn't think of anything to say in reply.

You simply sat down next to him as Outcoln entered the pod and sat down on the exact opposite side from you. You were remarkably surprised by the persistent respect for privacy and private discussion that Renata's men had shown so far, but you had no doubt that secrecy in this kind of business was the key to any good business.

It didn't take long for the cable car to set off, automatically closing its doors before taking off without much ado. You hadn't taken it for a while, avoiding the less popular corners of the city in preference for the hidden lifts, but you had to admit it was a pleasant experience. 

Viktor was looking out, and you were looking at Viktor. The sun bathed his face, his amber eyes under his thick eyebrows fixed on a point on the horizon, the angle of his jaw cutting a straight shadow across his clothes in which you were so unaccustomed to seeing him in. Every beauty spot you'd memorised from the night of the return from Demacia hadn't moved from your memory, even the one on the muscle connecting the back of his jaw to the hollow of his collarbone.

You shifted your gaze, afraid that its unconscious insistence would reveal more than was necessary about the flood of thoughts that was invading you. You bit the inside of your lip, inhaling softly.

"All I can tell you is that-" Viktor immediately abandoned his contemplation to meet your gaze, and you almost lost your breath to see those two suns resting on your eyes, attentive to what you had to say. "We are investigating something that some would rather keep secret."

He seemed intrigued, but didn't seem to be rushing you into your explanation, remaining patient with what you decided to pass on as information or not. You looked away.

"It's part of the reason why I am the way I am, and it might bring some much bigger dangers than what happened back in the street. And," you inhaled heavily, "I don't want to put you in danger because..." 

You felt your heart in your throat, turning towards him for a moment, not holding his gaze that seemed impossible to escape, like some wind was reaching into all the places your clothes couldn't protect every time he looked at you.

"...Because I care for you, and," your eyes fell on Outcoln in the distance, "you don't deserve to be in any of this."

There was silence again, and you could feel Viktor's gaze on you. You were going to have to face him one of these days, weren't you? To be able to look him in the eye without fearing that his stare would be filled with bitterness towards you?

You straightened up, grunting under the pain of your back, before looking up again. In his eyes, you found gentleness mixed with surprise. You weren't in the habit of proclaiming aloud, even if it wasn't so loud at the time, that you cared about someone, and if your eyes didn't betray you, it was also pride that was in Viktor's eyes.

He simply nodded, like a silent thank you for having warned him about this, and you felt reassured.

"I suppose there is no way for me to help you out with this, right?" he asked.

"For now, no. Later..." you thought for a moment about the expertise Viktor could provide. "Maybe. But I don't want to drag you into all of this. It's ugly and terrifying and I don't want to push this onto you-"

"But would it help you?" he cut in.

"What?" you replied, dumbfounded.

"If, somehow, you tell me about it all someday-"

"Not somehow, when I tell you this," you cut in.

This answer made him frown as a smile stretched the corner of his lip. Yes, definitely pride.

"Alright, when you tell me this," he corrected as you nodded in agreement, "and I provide my help, do you genuinely think it would be useful?"

"What do you mean by 'provide' your help?"

He raised an eyebrow, clutching his cane in his hand and raising it a little in the air until the handle was level with his face.

‘Think my cane can't handle more broken toes and noses to its name?" he asked.

You look falsely offended. "I would never insult it that way."

His grin intensified, contagious on your own lips, his eyes settling on the cut they were bearing for a moment before lowering his cane and looking straight ahead.

"You do seem to forget that my previous position was that of the assistant of a councillor," he remarked, turning back to you, "and that my big hearted friend is not only romantically entangled with a councillor but childhood friends with the daughter of another."

"Just make sure your big hearted friend doesn't hear about what you saw me doing today," you nodded. "I can't imagine the freak out he could get."

"Right," he agreed, "what will you tell him tomorrow when you come and that he remarks the state of your lip?"

You shrugged. "Tell him I saw Eris and that her cat got a bit too excited about playing with me."

"Eris has a cat?"

"A little black menace with knives at the end of his paws more than a cat if you ask me, Onyx' the name."

"Like the stone?"

"Yes, something about the virtue of said stone that's all about bringing strength and support in hard times or something like that."

"Is his name fitting to his temper?"

"I don't think a worst decision has ever been made in the history of bad decisions."

Viktor chuckled, and you followed him.

"You got any pets?" you asked.

"Got one at home."

"Really?" you remarked, surprised.

"Yes, a puppy, a lovesick one at that. His name is spelled I-D-I-O-T but it's pronounced Jayce, something to do with language standards that I don't quite get."

You couldn't help but giggle. "It's a brilliant name, very original."

"Thank you," he nodded as if someone was finally acknowledging a debating point he'd been trying to make for ages, "I'm very proud of it, it has such a powerful meaning."

It was when the cable car began to slow down that you realised you had reached your destination. The doors opened and you got up to leave, followed by Viktor. When you both arrived outside, Outcoln called to you from inside the transport. He told you that you were in safe territory and that you no longer needed his services here. You thanked him and started walking with Viktor.

You stopped a moment later to remove the accessories from your outfits that were no longer needed to better fit the Piltovian fashion. As you took off your jacket, Viktor took off his red waist coat, removing the belts that hung over his hips, leaving him wearing just his cream t-shirt with the long sleeves rolled up. 

You changed your shoes, stuffing everything into your bag again. The air was warm enough that, like Viktor, you didn't need to cover up any more than that.

And so you resumed your journey towards the city.

"I take it you won't be working tomorrow as well with your wounds?" he asked.

"I don't think I will," you sighed, already thinking about the fact that you'd have to make a detour before going back to warn them.

"Then," Viktor continued, "what do you say about coming to the apartment?"

You turned towards him, pausing for a moment in your walk, leading Viktor to turn towards you.

"You're finally inviting me there?"

He shrugged. "We finished unpacking most of our boxes," he said as you returned to his level and started walking again, "and we can finally walk without much difficulty. Didn't think the floor was actually duo coloured like that for a while." He raised his eyebrows, as if he'd come a long way. "So, yes, I think it is time for you to come to see it. Plus," he turned to you as you turned a corner, "if you're not working at the café tomorrow and I have to endure anyone else taking my order, I might just do the most dangerous thing."

"Which would be?" 

"Making tea."

You couldn't help but smile, and you realised how much you'd missed this. Those incessant jokes, your shared understanding, that ability he had to effortlessly play the same games as you and always push your sarcasm further.

And you'd deprived yourself of that, robbed yourself of such simple happiness.

"Would tea be worse than Jayce's coffee, though?" you asked.

Viktor seemed sincerely to be weighing up the pros and cons of this question, and in his contemplation on the subject, as unserious as he was but as serious as he made it out to be, he was beautiful.

"No, not worse," he finally concluded.

"That bad?" you giggled in surprise.

"You've never been miserable enough or coerced into drinking it, you wouldn't know."

"And you were?"

"Miserable, yes, coerced? I'd have drawn out what few tea bags we have at the flat by now for a slower poisoning."

"You hate tea that much?"

"I don't hate it," he admitted, "but tea doesn't keep me awake, not for work, and I don't have time to have time, not always at least."

You walked slowly, not only because you did not wish to overwork him with his leg which you had so suddenly abused during the afternoon, but because you savoured the moment.

"Some things I want to take my time with, others I'm indifferent to," he confessed.

"I'll make sure your time is well spent tomorrow by making your coffee then," you suggested.

"Finally, a moment when I can take the time to enjoy something," he smiled.

Far too soon for your liking, you arrived not far from a street adjacent to your café, and you had to cut the conversation short.

"This is where we go our separate ways today," you sighed, arriving at a crossroads.

Viktor looked around, calmer than usual that afternoon, before finding your eyes again.

"I only realise it now, but it seems that for the third time, you've come to my defence, Miss."

"It's not my fault you always end up getting into trouble," you remarked.

"What can I do," he sighed, "I always find my saviour this way."

Your heart warmed in your chest as the prospect of him looking forward to seeing you took hold. It was so strange, so new to see such a feeling shared. The idea of him willingly putting himself in danger to see you, however, was less pleasant.

He looked at you for a moment, a light breeze passing through the branches of the trees under which you were standing, spring having already brought back the flower buds of the fruit trees ready to blossom, letting themselves be lulled for the moment by the waltz of the wind and the leaves.

"For tomorrow, prepare your time," he advised, a gentleness in his eyes. "It's important."

"Alright," you nodded, feeling almost unable to tear yourself away from the moment. 

He nodded. "Come around about ten, Jayce will probably be awake if I'm not already," he frowned for a moment, "you know the flat number, don't you?"

You nodded, and his brows relaxed. 

"Good, then," He took a step to the side. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss."

"See you tomorrow, Viktor," you greeted back.

He began to walk slowly home. It was a nice day, the sun was warm, he was going to take the time to take his time.

You turned into the street and found yourself pensive, almost forgetting the pain in your back. Part of you wanted to continue this discussion, but another part was worried about how it might have turned out if it had gone on a bit longer.

If he hadn't asked more questions about why you had avoided him so much, it was because he probably thought that this investigation had started as soon as you got back and that your distance was due to the fact that you didn't want to involve him.

You only partly liked this idea, because you didn't want to stick to this lie, but on the other hand, you didn't know if you had the courage to admit anything to him about your feelings for now - you had, after all, still to make a choice about what you were going to do with your feelings.

You had always known that your soul was so hermetically sealed that it seemed almost forbidden to obtain the love you never had, so much so that the prodromes of this incurable obsession had seemed abnormal to you at first.

You had encapsulated so much in your life before throwing it away so you wouldn't have to live with it that you had this fresh, free place for beautiful things that you could supply and fill.

So, perhaps, why not start your life now?

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

✦﹒ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt @enoojnij @stilinskisensation @emlovesya @soupsaurus @luvreadingfics @the-valars-sapphire @solbringer @adorabluesposts @pxszels @nerolovesseongjiyuk @cyberwears @cryptidcut @seohaepeachyun @danielsbackupglasses @2hiigh2cry @16novvs @cicadastoner @patchs-curiosity-corneriosity-corner @w41k3r-94290 @minniiv @roku907 @lumilarity @peachy-writings @disturbyn @ddandelionfluff @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @notyuralycat @glenn-slayer @k07ume @hexb0nes @ravngers @fushirika @glenn-slayer @watergirl13girl @graveyardtrain @theuclid @catspook @mildly-discouraging-future @nataliea @frogbuggy

[devilish-cherry]

gojo relationship headcanons ♡

ᨳ♡₊➳ gojo x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ my other works

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: poll results are in and everyone's favorite menace won. i had the absolute best time writing these lmao i hope you all enjoy, and thank you to everyone who voted in the poll! also this is my 100th post which is wild. thank you all for sticking around while i post unhinged feelings about fictional men 🩵

₊⊹. gojo is the type to yell your name dramatically across crowded places just to wave enthusiastically and point at you like you're a celebrity. strangers stare. you die inside.

₊⊹. whenever you call him 'satoru' in a serious tone, he immediately gets suspicious. "who died? are we fighting? did i leave the stove on? wait. did nanami finally snap?"

₊⊹. you once jokingly said you could never date a guy who doesn't cry at movies. gojo, offended by the insinuation, forces himself to cry watching finding nemo. he's sobbing. ugly sobbing. "he misplaced his son..." he croaks, wiping a tear with a stray kit kat wrapper.

₊⊹. gojo's love language is physical touch. if you're not touching, he will fix that immediately. sits on your lap. leans over your shoulder. once nuzzled into your side and muttered, "i have to recharge. you're my emotional powerbank."

₊⊹. he once got jealous of your dog. your dog. "he gets cuddles all day and i get, what? a single forehead kiss? this is rigged."

₊⊹. gojo is physically incapable of passing an arcade without trying to win you a stuffed animal. you now have an army of plushies he insists are your "children" complete with backstories and family drama.

₊⊹. if you leave your phone unattended, you'll return to find dozens of extremely zoomed-in selfies of him making dumb faces saved on your phone. "you're welcome for the new wallpaper."

₊⊹. if he notices you're tired, he immediately insists on carrying you bridal style. doesn't matter if you're in public, grocery shopping, or in the middle of crossing the street.

₊⊹. he routinely calls you ridiculous pet names just to embarrass you in public. expect gems like "my precious cinnamon bun," "divine snuggle muffin," or simply "sweetest bean of my life." when strangers stare, he just winks at you and whispers loudly, "they just wish they had what we have."

₊⊹. gojo insists on celebrating absurd anniversaries, like "three months since we first shared a spoon."

₊⊹. you forgot to text him good morning one time. one time. that day, he texted you, "Feeling ugly and unblessed. Might perish. Hope you're well."

₊⊹. he leaves sticky notes everywhere, from your fridge to your bathroom mirror, filled with overly flattering comments and crude doodles of himself crowned king.

₊⊹. gojo genuinely believes every single minor inconvenience you experience is an attack on his person. the coffee machine breaks? obviously the work of a cursed spirit. traffic jam? definitely a conspiracy by the higher-ups.

₊⊹. he sends you photos from random places captioned "Thinking of you. <3" you'll open your phone to see a zoomed-in pic of a traffic cone. or a pigeon. or nanami with a blurry rage face in the background.

₊⊹. gojo is touchy. like, casually-throws-an-arm-around-your-shoulders-and-slowly-morphs-into-a-koala levels of clingy. you've had full conversations while he was literally hanging off your back like a six-foot toddler.

₊⊹. he genuinely sulks if you laugh harder at someone else's joke, muttering dramatically, "guess i'll just retire now. comedy career over."

₊⊹. he casually gives you extravagant gifts with absurd reasoning. "here's a diamond-encrusted pen. because you scribbled a heart on a napkin once."

₊⊹. when you compliment him in public, he always loudly gasps like a scandalized debutante. "oh my god, stop! you're going to make me blush. you're embarrassing me in front of my adoring fans!" the fans in question are confused bystanders and one traumatized child.

₊⊹. when you're sad, he gets oddly quiet. he sits beside you and lets you lean into him. no jokes. just warm silence and the occasional thumb stroke over your hand. he doesn't need to say much. you know he's there. always.

₊⊹. he will purposely steal your spot on the couch then dramatically offer it back as a grand romantic gesture.

₊⊹. one time, gojo accidentally sent a ridiculous lovey-dovey text intended for you to nanami. he still hasn't recovered from nanami's deadpan, "Wrong person. And seek help."

₊⊹. whenever he cooks, it's either a michelin star worthy masterpiece or a fire hazard waiting to happen. he proudly calls it "experimental cooking."

₊⊹. if you're walking together and someone hits on you, gojo will not play it cool. he'll put both arms around you like a scarf and start loudly talking about your shared bank account and imaginary child.

₊⊹. once, gojo woke you up at 3 a.m. because he had a dream you cheated on him. "it wasn't even real, and i'm still emotionally wounded. comfort me. pet my hair."

₊⊹. he claims he can "feel when you're sad" from miles away. you once tested this by sighing loudly into your tea, and approximately 4.3 seconds later, he burst through the window like a disney prince on crack.

₊⊹. you caught him talking to himself in the mirror. not just talking. arguing. "no, you're too powerful and sexy. stop it. no you stop—" you walk in. you both freeze. "...this is a private moment," he says. you never speak of it again.

₊⊹. he thinks you're the funniest person alive. you told one mildly decent joke at a party. he laughed for five minutes. cackling. wheezing. nearly crying. everyone else was confused. "i'm dating a comedian," he gasped, holding his stomach. he references the joke in random conversations like it's a cultural landmark.

₊⊹. despite his eccentric behavior, gojo quietly cherishes every moment with you. behind closed doors, away from prying eyes, he softly whispers, "you might just be the best thing that's ever happened to me."

[champagnetommy]

hold me, console me

Two months after the break-up, Buck gets an interesting call in the middle of the night. 1.4k words, fix-it, fluff and humor, on ao3

Buck had just face-planted onto his bed, after a long, long day of hectic calls, followed by non-stop baking, when his phone rings. He doesn’t move an inch at first, considering letting it go to voicemail, but he turns his head to the digital clock on his nightstand-Tommy’s - and registers it’s 1 a.m. He figures it could be important.

Through bleary eyes, he glances briefly at his phone screen, it’s an unknown number. Huh. He slides his finger over to answer and mumbles a tired, “Hello?”

“Evan.” He’d know that voice anywhere. It’d been haunting his dreams and every waking thought since—

“—Tommy?”

Tommy chuckles nervously on the other side of the phone. It’s staticky and echo-y; Buck wonders where he is. “Uh, yeah, it’s me. I’m so sorry to do this, the only phone numbers I have memorized are yours and my captain’s and I do not want to call him for this. Oh god.”

“Are you okay?” Buck can’t help but ask. If he’s in trouble, he needs to get to him as soon as possible.

Tommy sighs, exhaling heavily, before answering. “Erm. I- I need you to come bail me out. Please.”

That’s the last thing Buck was expecting. He must have been quiet for too long, because, then, Tommy’s in his ear again.

“Evan?”

“ Yeah, sorry, I’m here. How, why are you…” He’s not quite sure where to start, really.

“I’ll explain later? I don’t have a lot of time to talk at the moment,” he says drily. “Again, I’m so sorry to inconvenience you, I- I don’t want to be a bother. But, I’d appreciate it, if you could help me tonight. I know I don’t deserve it—”

“— You’re not an inconvenience, Tommy,” Buck says quietly.

Tommy clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. Good, a small part of Buck thinks.

“Which precinct?”

***

An hour later, Buck pulls up to the precinct Tommy instructed him. He’s definitely awake now, and burning with so many questions, and he’s unsure wether he’ll get the answers to any of them. As he walks in, he’s relieved and thankful it’s not Athena’s station. He thinks Tommy probably is, too.

He makes his way to the appropriate desk and greets the officer with his most charming- not too much- smile. “Good night- er morning?”

The officer, Cortez, her badge says, doesn’t look very impressed, but then again, it could just be the fact she’s on night shift.

“I’m here for Tommy- Thomas Kinard. I believe he was brought in earlier tonight.”

It’s like a switch is flipped, because Officer Cortez actually cracks a smile and her eyes widen in realization. “Huh, so you’re Evan.” It’s not a question. “Your guy’s a real charmer, you know?”

Not my guy, not anymore, he thinks. He doesn’t say it, though. “Uh, yeah,” he chuckles, instead. “Sounds about right. Do I need to post bail? I’m not really sure how that works.”

“Oh, no you’re fine,” Officer Cortez shakes her head. “The guy he punched didn’t press charges, and he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on, seeing as he was brought in, too. And there were witnesses that vouched for your guy. We just needed someone to come pick him up.”

Tommy punched someone?

“Right,” Buck swallows, trying not to betray the fact this is all new information for him.

Officer Cortez gives him a kind smile and then turns to type and click on her computer for a couple minutes. Buck rocks on the balls of his feet, feeling jittery and like his skin itches, as he waits.

“Ok, he’s all set,” she says a minute later. “Let me go get him, I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later, Tommy’s walking over to him, the officer right behind him. He looks tired and a little sheepish, but otherwise uninjured, thankfully.

“Hi.” He says meekly, ducking his head and raises a hand to rub the back of his neck.

Buck thought he’d be angry the first time he saw him, after the breakup, but instead he feels a knot loosen in his chest. “Hi yourself.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

Officer Cortez looks between them, amusement etched on her face “Alright you two, this has been fun and the highlight of my night, but out you go.”

“She won’t run away with me, can you believe that?” Tommy mock-whispers conspiringly, like everything’s normal, like it’s just another day and they’re not standing in the middle of a police precinct because he punched someone.

“In your dreams, Kinard! Now leave, before I change my mind.”

“Yes ma’am,” he salutes with two fingers and motions for Buck to follow him out.

“And talk to your Evan!” She calls to their retreating forms.

Tommy groans in embarrassment.

Once they walk out of the main doors, into the night air, Buck stops and rounds on him. “So. You punched someone.”

Tommy freezes for a second and then nods. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Can we not—”

“— No. You called me in the middle of the night to come bail you out, so we are doing this now, actually.”

Tommy’s shoulders stiffen and then relax, slumping as he inhales and exhales deeply. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said.”

Tommy clears his throat. “Right, okay, well. I was at a bar, I was— doesn’t matter, but when I was leaving, I saw this asshole harassing a couple, two men. They were just having a night out a- and this jackass was hurling slur after slur, cornering them in.” He takes another deep breath. Buck notices his hands shake a little.

“Anyway, I stepped in, told him to leave them alone and go on his way. Next thing I know, he swings at me, misses of course. I, uh, swung back and lightly decked him. He was drunk, tripping over his feet and honestly, sent himself to the ground.”

And Buck believes him, knows him, despite everything. “And you got arrested?”

“Yeah, we both did. There was an officer nearby, but the couple and some other bystanders explained what happened. He said he still had to take me in and here I am- or was, I suppose. Not my proudest moment.” He stares at he ground, as if afraid Buck would be angry or disappointed in him.

“Tommy,” he says softly, “hey look at me.” He dares to reach out and gently tips Tommy’s chin up with two fingers.

Tommy eyes him wearily, vulnerability and trepidation achingly evident across his ever-beautiful visage.

“You punched a homophobe,” Buck iterates.

Tommy’s expression morphs into confusion. “Yeah? That’s what I—"

Between one moment and the next, Buck leans in and cuts him off with the press of his lips. It’s as chaste and brief as their first kiss, and it’s absolutely everything. He disconnects their lips, but only moves back far enough to rest their foreheads together.

“God you’re so— I missed you,” Buck mumbles into the scant space between them. “So much.”

“Evan, sweetheart, I missed you too. You don’t know how sorry I am, for leaving, for everything—mmph!— Buck kisses him quiet again.

“Come home with me.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Just to sleep. I think it’s been a long day for both us. We can talk and argue and yell tomorrow. I-I just want to sleep next to you again, hold you.”

Tommy smiles at him, much like the way he smiled at him after accepting his invite to Maddie’s wedding, all soft and awe-struck.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” This time, Tommy’s the one bringing him in for a kiss.

All too soon, their bubble is interrupted by the intercom mounted near the precinct doors. “Gentlemen, as heartwarming as this is,” Officer Cortez says firmly, but not unkindly. “I suggest you move along, lest this turns into public indecency and then I’ll have to bring you both in.”

Their faces turn red, as they mumble quick sorry’s in unison. Tommy pulls Buck by the hand, down the stairs and toward the parking lot. The knot in his chest loosens further.

“And congratulations!” Officer Cortez shouts happily, voice carrying into the nearly empty lot.

Everything’s not magically fixed. They still have difficult conversations to face, fears to work through together and separately, but Tommy’s hand is warm and sure in his and he’ll sleep curled up next to him again, for the first time in months. And Buck’s ready to fight for them, to make it.

It’s a start.

[inkskinned]

we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."

we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."

we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.

we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.

we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.

we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.

do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.

i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.

we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.

and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.

tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Office hours.

Pairing: modern!Javier Peña x f!reader Words count: 3059 Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI

Summary: You should concentrate on work. But you can't do that with the charming bastard you share the office with in front of you. Why not find a more fun way to spend your office hours? Tags: porn with very little plot, modern setting (they have computers and chats), POV second person, reader is described wearing a skirt, blouse and heels & having pussy and breasts, no other description of her is given, Javier is an unhinged menace and has a filthy mouth but so is reader, dirty talk, teasing, improper use of office chat, cockwarming, masturbation (f!receiving), pet names, slurs, pussy pronouns, mention of a sex toy, no Spanish because I don't really want to butcher another language since I am doing this extensively with English 💀, squirting, sexual activities in a public place, no age gap, age unspecified so it’s up to you (they’re both in their 30s in my head), the work they do is not specified so you can imagine what you want. I think it’s all? If I realized that I forgot something I’ll add it right away.

A/N: This is the second time I've tried to write Javi P and I'm terrified but because it came out on its own in a frenzy: here we gooo. I'm ovulating and I'm horny af. LOL It probably doesn't make sense, I don't have a beta reader, I reread it myself but my eyes are tired, English is not my first language so I ask your forgiveness if you find mistakes. I hope you like the dirty talk of this thing, I feel like it came out particularly well…fingers crossed.

You should really focus on your work, you have a deadline to meet tomorrow and you're still behind. And you certainly can't focus with a certain coworker in front of you. When they decided that you had to share a big office you secretly decided that your boss was an idiot. How productive could you have been with Javier Peña sitting at the desk in front of you? Obviously your boss expected you both to be adults, capable of controlling your own instincts. What you thought instead was that it would be the hell that it actually is. Because Javier is a charming bastard and you have had a crush on him since day one and he's definitely the type to flirt with all the women in the office.

You hate his guts and you fight practically all the time over any little inconvenience, but the creeping attraction between you, that feeling of always being on the edge of a cliff, that constant urge to provoke him to see which one of you would crack first never left. 

And today, when he showed up in yet another shirt that left his chest partially exposed-because the bastard in question wasn't the least bit interested in buttoning the last few buttons-and those damn skinny jeans straight from the ‘70 that on anyone would have looked silly and anachronistic but on him did nothing but send you into a frenzy of desire, you felt it might be the last straw.

Appropriate office attire does not exist for him, he only wears a tie for meetings with your boss but the rest of the time he dresses as he wants and apparently no one says anything to him. Fucking great, just what you need, seeing his chest displayed right in front of your eyes all the damn time.

You never even liked mustaches but now you couldn't help thinking how much you wished they would rub against your folds as he lapped at your cunt. You dreamed of him carrying your scent on him for the rest of the day, dreamed of kissing him and tasting you on his tongue.

You dreamed of getting up and going to sit on his lap as you continued to type the report you promised your boss and his cock rubbed against your thighs, your panties, and even better your bare pussy. You thought about it practically all morning and got so wet that you risked wetting your office chair, so much so that on your lunch break you had to hide in one of the bathroom stalls and take them off, to store them in a bag inside your purse. 

But now you are naked under your skirt. Which is even worse and makes things even harder for you. You jotted down in your mind that it was time to think about bringing a change of underwear with you. Now the fact that Javi was on the other side of the room was even more unbearable than before, setting you on fire. The temptation to do something stupid and make yourself a needy fool was eating you up. 

Javi looks up for a moment from the documents he is working on, casting one of his typical glances at you, big brown captivating eyes that stare at you many times during the day, only for a few seconds at a time. Minutes of each day flow so slowly when he is in front of you. You really shouldn't think about him; you're here to work. In theory. And you need this damn salary if you don't want to live without electricity or run out of food. The selfish asshole in front of you however doesn't seem to care that you will probably be fired soon and end up under a bridge, because he continues to tease you in any way he can. One day it's a quip about your nail polish, the next about your overly revealing blouse, the next about the length of your skirt. And then there are those glances, sometimes accompanied by a wink, mischievous smirks, a tilt of his head, little things that no one ever notices but you. He never pushes the envelope, but oh, by now you know he wants to. A week ago he asked you if you wanted to have a drink after work, and you said no, absolutely not, never mix business and pleasure, it was a very strict policy in your department. 

You regretted it right away, but what else could you have done? He's not someone you can trust.

He didn't push further, of course, which made you even more impatient, nervous, incredibly horny.

It's a challenge now, you have to have him. And you have to have him before your female colleagues, at least the ones on your floor. You always notice how they look at him, languid and sweet eyes, lip licks and lower lip nibbled, hair moved behind their ear, every time he walks down the hallway of your floor, there is no lady who doesn’t stop working at least for a moment to marvel at him.

It’s late now, the sun has long since gone down, almost everyone around you has been gone for at least 30 minutes, but you have been distracted all morning and now you have to catch up. You hoped he would leave with the others but he stayed here. You’re doomed at this point, you can’t even think straight anymore. You know there’s some other colleagues three offices ahead, down the hall, whom you saw five minutes ago when you got up to get a cup of coffee. As you reread what you wrote, with your eyes fixed on the computer screen, you can't get him out of your mind, feeling his eyes on you, heat blazing under your skin. You turn toward the door in a clumsy attempt to avoid his gaze, realizing that you have closed it.

And well, after all, you've been working hours, maybe you can take a little break. Just five minutes. And what better to do in those five minutes than tease Javi? 

You don't mind playing and playing with him seems almost natural and physiological given his constant attempts to sabotage your self-control; perhaps you could try to sabotage his a little without risking too much.

So you open your legs. Just a little bit, just enough to show him that you're not wearing panties. 

And you look at him, without saying anything. Javi licks his lips, you know his eyes have caught in full what you wanted him to see. His jaw tenses, his hand clenches into a fist over the papers he is examining. Little imperceptible reactions that you crave like water in the middle of a desert. 

Until the chat banner you use to communicate with colleagues lights up on your desktop. 

“I can smell you from here.” it says. The sender is obviously that bastard you share an office with. 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” you quietly type. 

After a few seconds another message appears.

"Your delicious pussy, of course, you tempting little slut." You turn to look at him who is totally deadpan.  

You click your tongue and type, “You should be thinking about your work, not my pussy, you know? Highly unprofessional. I should go straight to someone in HR and report you”

“Oh yeah? And so you want everyone to know that you come to work without underwear. Typical greedy slut behavior." 

You lean against the desk, pretending to be shocked at first, looking at him with disappointment. A small smile creases the corners of his mouth, a hint of teeth between his lips, his eyes fiercely twinkling, he is convinced he has made you uncomfortable. 

Smiling in turn, savoring the taste of victory, you lower a hand between your legs, grazing your now totally soaked folds.

His eyebrows rises slightly, his eyes fixed on your fingers moving slowly over your outer lips. 

You type “I think you like what you see” With your other hand. 

He swallows, lowering a hand to his jeans in turn. You lean against the back of the chair to get a better look and clearly catch the tent that is growing under the crotch. He bites his lower lip, one hand moving up and down over his bulge and the other typing on the computer keyboard. 

“I bet you don't have the guts to come over here and make my cock feel that tight pussy of yours.”

Okay, you think, if you want to play dirty that's what you're going to get. 

You look around, listening to every little noise from the other rooms, the office seems empty and quiet. 

You close your eyes, just a moment, before grabbing some papers from your desk, getting up and walking toward him, swaying on your heels. 

What you've been dreaming of doing all morning is about to happen, you feel yourself floating like in a bubble.

He unbuckles his belt and pulls down the zipper of his jeans, freeing his huge shaft as he stares at you.

He turns his wheeled office chair toward you and you straddle him. 

He grabs your hips gently pushing you down on his cock, the tip grazing at your folds “such a slut” 

“If anyone here is a whore it's you. Do you think I don't know that you're getting off with half the accounting department?”

“Mh, maybe you should inform your pussy, she seems to have lost the memo judging by how much she's dripping on me.”

He holds his cock with one hand as you lower yourself onto him, looking down to where your pussy and his cock are coming into conjunction.

“Oh please shut up, I don't give a shit about your office banter.” 

You drag this out for months, days upon days of longing and teasing and nights spent in bed imagining that he was the one sucking you off instead of your toy.

You lean down holding his shoulders and whisper in his ear, “Stuff it all in.’” and you start rubbing yourself against him, feeling his huge dripping cock all inside your cunt. He stays still. 

You moan lightly and he shushes you "you have to be quiet honey, do you want us to be caught? Do you want them to notice that you are cockwarming me instead of working?”He places one of his hands on your mouth, your stifled moans vibrating on his fingers as you grind until your cream is leaking down his balls, his jeans, making a mess on his chair.

“Christ, you’re so fucking wet” he murmurs thrusting a little and starting to hump his whole dick inside, he reaches your clit with two fingers and starts moving them slowly in circles over it “she’s squeezing me so right, baby, I can go on for hours just like that, stuffing you full with my cock” His other hand is resting on your hip, just above the waistband your skirt and he holds you close to him. 

He pulls out a little and pounds it back in, making you writhe and moan “Fuck yeah, you hear it? Your noisy sticky little cunt gushing for me? It’s like a fucking symphony” he whispers 

Your whines vibrate on his fingers “oh baby, you really have to learn your manners. I said keep quiet.” He removes his hand from in front of your lips and sticks two fingers in your mouth “suck these. Maybe you'll learn to be quiet with your mouth full. Or should I fill that one with my cock too?”

You suck them greedily, feeling the taste of your pussy spread over your tongue. “That’s right, baby, just like that”

You hear the main floor door slam, the last people have also left, you are now alone and his cock is buried inside you.

“Jesus, look at the mess you’ve made on me, sucking my cock in like the desperate little slut you are… you wanna come, huh?” 

You nod, as your tongue swirls on his digits, licking and sucking enraptured by your taste and his gaze locked on yours. 

“Yeah, I bet you want this cock to pound you senseless, am I right?” 

You nod again, feeling your heart raging behind your ribcage. 

You never felt so desperate for anyone, the way he’s torturing you, his cock deep down inside you without moving an inch, your pussy drenched, his precum smearing all over your walls mixing with your fluids. 

You feel delirious. 

“I know baby but not here.” He whispers mischievously and your eyes are almost on the verge of tears “you can come tho, let me help but you have to be very quiet for me, okay?” 

You think the office is empty, but you can't be sure, there are so many rooms and someone could still be inside.

He slides his fingers out of your mouth and puts them back on your clit, starting to rub it gently. They are coated in your saliva and slide pleasantly over it, sending you almost over the edge. 

“Look how swollen she is, poor little cunt, she wants to come so badly, isn’t she?” his low hoarse voice gravels in your ears as he pinches your clit and begins to jerk it off faster. 

You writhe trying to stand up a little to ease your numbed legs but he pins you down on his cock digging his fingers in your hip “nah, you stay where you are, honey, gonna come full of me and at the pace of my fingers” 

You bite your lower lip hiding your face in the crook of his neck “no, look me in the eyes, I want to see that pretty face while you come like a whore for me”

One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck as you force yourself to look in his eyes. They are black with lust and desire, pupils dilated and fixed on yours in a frenzy.

His fingers move faster and faster, his cock throbs inside you.

“Come apart for me, babe, let me feel your greedy cunt squirting for me, come on” 

His words are enough to send you over the edge, you come copiously squirting on top of him as he doesn't stop rubbing your clit.

“Yeah, baby, just like that, you’re so fucking beautiful right now” 

You strive to keep your eyes on him but eventually throw your head back overwhelmed by the heat spreading inside you, enveloping every cell in your body and pulsing uncontrollably in your veins. 

It’s too much, it’s all too much and he didn’t even fuck you properly yet. 

You collapse onto his shoulder, holding onto his neck, panting against his skin “Fuck” 

“Yeah, baby, I know, that’s what you wanted huh? Coming full of me like a bitch in heat?” 

You look into his eyes and whisper, “Oh, no, I want so much more.” 

“Oh yeah? What else do you want?” He grins.

“Take me home. Now.” 

“Ask nicely, baby” 

You huff “Take me home, Javi, please” 

He chuckles “Hungry little thing, what do you want me to do for you once we get home?” 

You sigh and then looking into his eyes defiantly whisper “I want you to fuck me, I want you to fuck me so hard that I scream, I want the whole neighborhood to hear me. I want your cock pounding inside me all night”

He clicks his tongue and replies, “So cheeky asking me to take you home and fuck you while my cock is still inside you.”

“That’s what I want, do you think you can do that for me?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. 

“Of course. You chose the right man for the job.” 

He slaps your ass before you stand up and fix your clothes as best you can. His jeans are completely covered in your juices and his cock still rock hard, you hope that no one is really there or they will notice what you have done.

“Here, put this around your waist,” you say, handing him your black cardigan. 

He looks down at his jeans, laughing. “Damn, you made a real mess. I think I’ll have to get rid of that chair, too.”

He wraps your cardigan around his waist so that the sleeves hang down the front, almost completely covering the dark, wet stain.

“Let’s get out of here” 

You take a deep breath, turning the doorknob down and looking out into the hallway, you look left and right and there doesn’t seem to be anyone “come on, let’s hurry” you say waving and he chuckles behind you. You walk out the door in silence, walking down the hallway to the front door.

You press the elevator button while he pinches your ass “stop it” you hiss. 

You enter the elevator, side by side, and as the doors are about to close, a hand reaches between them, stopping them. 

Your boss enters and looks at you in surprise. “Oh, you’re still here?” 

You’re screaming internally as you struggle to keep a poker face and reply calmly “Yes, of course. I had to work on that report and Javier offered to help me out.” 

Your boss nods, completely unaware. “Good, I expect it to be on my desk by tomorrow morning.”

You nod, lying, “yeah sure, definitely, it's practically over.” as you hear Javier stifle a laugh. 

You turn to give him a disapproving look as he covers his mouth and looks down to quell his giggles.

You arrive at the lobby in the longest elevator ride of your life.

“See you tomorrow then, have a good evening” Your boss says as soon as you three come out. 

“Good evening” you babble thanking God he didn't notice anything.

“Oh shit, that was a close call!” Javier laughs as soon as your boss gets in the car.

You slap him on his shoulder “does that sound funny to you? Come on, take me home and make me forget that I just risked losing my job”

“I can’t wait, honey,” he puts his arm around your waist as he walks you to his car. 

Sure, you don’t know what’s going to happen and you don’t know if it’s worth it but you can’t wait to ride him on a bed and forget your name too.

general tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @almostempty @lovely-vamp-princess @pedrostories 🌹