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

[wackydoggs]

aqua teen roblox force

[bedlamsbard]

Now I'm just mad and that makes me sad. :/ I really do try incredibly hard not to hate things in this fandom, which doesn't always work out because, you know, feelings, and I don't want to think about hating things! I want to think about things I like!

[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.

[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.

[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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[narizaki]

video  calls  &  sick  days  ―  s. kiyoomi

tags   manager!reader,   gn!reader,   fluff,   sickfic,   post-timeskip

notes   wc is 1.5k,   thanks for 2 hunnid enjoy :p

over the few months you’ve been sakusa’s manager, you’ve ingrained daily video calls into your schedule. 

it wasn’t hard to tell that sakusa thought calls were inconvenient, to say the very least. the slight tick of his eye and the clench of his jaw were difficult to miss, even if he bit his tongue in the name of professionalism. you understood, really. no one would want to be disrupted early in the morning, especially when they’re someone who has a carefully crafted routine like sakusa — which is why you insisted on aligning these calls with his schedule, instead of deciding for him. it seemed to satisfy the spiker enough, seeing that he appeared much less tense almost immediately after. 

however, you’re starting to regret not bringing it upon yourself to dictate a time — especially when the back of your eyes are burning and it’s hard to breathe because it’s six in the morning and you’re sick.

“good morning, sakusa,” you groggily greet. you internally cringe at your voice, scratchy and making your throat hurt. you’ve opted to have your camera off just this once — you prefer to keep it on, as it makes these exchanges a little more humane, but you think your appearance is far too unfortunate for someone else to see right now. your hand runs through your hair, and you wince when your fingers get caught in a knot. 

sakusa’s camera is on, however, and the sound of pots clinking against one another fills the air around you. when he re-enters the frame, he’s focused on the meal he’s making, only mumbling a short greeting back. 

you take a swig of water and clear your throat, hoping that it helps with the ache, before beginning with sakusa’s schedule for today.

“let’s begin,” you start, “you’re free until 1 this afternoon, where you have a promotional shoot with hinata, bokuto, and miya. it should last until 3 or 4, depending on how long they take to prepare the four of you.” your words are curt and straightforward, and you hope that sakusa doesn’t notice. typically, you’d attempt small talk with him, but you’re currently trying to savor the last of your voice. 

“knowing miya, he’ll probably manage to drag it until 6 in the evening,” the spiker grumbles, and you can’t help the raspy (and tired) laugh that leaves you. a cough follows soon after, and if sakusa wasn’t able to tell that you were sick before, he definitely can now.

you watch as his eyes flit to his phone, a questioning look on his face. they roam around the screen for a moment, and you nervously wait for his reaction.

“are you sick?” sakusa bluntly asks. his eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s stopped stirring whatever he’s preparing on the stove. despite the fact he can’t even see you, you abashedly look away from your screen.

you’re tempted to deny it, but you know it’d be a futile attempt anyway. so, you relent, sighing out an affirmation. “yes, i am. i won’t be present at the shoot today, but you can expect the other three managers to be there. if you need anything, you can call me.” 

“no, i’ll be fine, but you shouldn’t be doing anything if you’re sick.” sakusa replies, turning away from his phone to move his food onto a plate. selfishly, you allow your eyes to rack down the wide expanse of his back, appreciating the way his compression shirt hugs his figure. it becomes clear that you were staring for too long, though, when sakusa turns back around, plate in hand and waiting for your response.

you have it in you to feel the slightest bit embarrassed, even if he can’t see you. 

“sorry,” you sheepishly murmur, “i can assure you that i’ll be okay, sakusa. i’ll be working from home today.”

“again,” he says, voice a tad harder than it was before, “you shouldn’t be doing anything if you’re sick. even if you’re working from home. is that everything i have on my schedule for today?” 

you’re not sure if sakusa’s being so insistent out of genuine worry for your health, or if he’s concerned that you’ll get him sick if you come to work in your state. “sakusa, i promise you that i’ll be okay in a day or two. and even then, i’ll make sure to wear a mask,” you say, assuming sakusa’s worried for his health. “moving on, though, i believe that’s all on your schedule for today. tomorrow you have your shoot with calvin klein, but i’ll remind you tomorrow morning. you have some pr, too. i believe a brand sent you pickled plums, which are your favorite, if i remember correctly?” 

you watch as sakusa shakes his head, sighing through his nose. “i’m not worried about me. i know that you wouldn’t get me sick. but if you keep on working instead of resting, you’re going to get worse, and you’ll be out for longer.” 

you’re beginning to become slightly irritated — a mix of tiredness, sickness, and sakusa’s nagging (even if it comes from a good place) beginning to annoy you. regardless, you try to pay no attention to it. once you’re done with this phone call, you’ll rest for another hour or two before doing whatever work you can from home. 

“i’m glad that you’re not worried about yourself, but as i said earlier, i’m sure i’ll be fine. i can take care of myself, sakusa,” you curtly reply, hoping that the spiker leaves the topic alone. 

thankfully, it seems like he does, because he relents and asks you to give him the pickled plums later on in the week. a few minutes later you’re greeting sakusa goodbye and hanging up, slouching into your mattress and performing a futile attempt at staving off the ache in your temples. 

you wake once again hours later to the incessant sound of your doorbell ringing. it’s certainly at least mid-morning, considering the way sunlight is filtering into your room, making your eyes ache. 

you stumble over to the door, paying no mind to your appearance and throwing the door open. to your surprise, sakusa is standing in your doorway, impatiently waiting for you to let him in, a plastic bag in hand.

“sakusa?” you gape. if you were being completely honest, he was the person you were least expecting to see right now — especially because you’re sick. he’s staring at you incredulously, like it’s not insane for him, out of all people, to willingly be around someone else while they’re ill. 

“you’re sick, right? i have soup and medicine,” he grumbles, “are you going to let me in or not?” 

you blink, before barely coming to your senses enough to open the door for him to step through. he does so immediately, taking long strides towards your dinner table to set the food down. then, he turns to you, and you have to resist the urge to curl into yourself. your head is pounding, you can hardly breathe through your nose, and you’re sure you look absolutely terrible right now. fuck professionalism, i guess, you sarcastically think. you’re not sure if you’ll ever allow yourself to live this moment down, even if you spend hours trying to forget about it.

“you didn’t…have to do this, sakusa,” you murmur, still somewhat in shock. and it seems that he’s just full of surprises today, because sakusa laughs, and you’re as surprised as you are annoyed because he’s laughing at you. 

“you’re my manager, i can’t have you dying on me,” he nonchalantly replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “now get back to bed. i’ll prepare the soup for you and get you some medicine.” 

you’re tempted to cuss at him, but decide that your entire body is far too weak to stay standing anymore, so you listen and make your way towards your room. sakusa doesn’t take very long, coming back with the items he promised and a damp towel — where’d he even find that?

and you think you’ve never seen sakusa so gentle before, placing the towel onto your forehead and handing you the warm soup. you eat it all in one go, not having realized how hungry you truly are, and graciously take the medicine sakusa offers you once you’re done. 

“...thank you, sakusa, you didn’t have to do this,” you say, feeling rather guilty that he took it upon himself to take care of you. 

sakusa only scoffs in reply. “you basically decide my entire life. everything would be thrown off-course if you weren’t able to work for even a week.” 

his response makes you laugh weakly, and you promise him that you’ll be back and better soon. 

“i have to go now,” sakusa says, glancing at his phone. you nod, remembering about the photoshoot you reminded him of earlier. 

he awkwardly stands still, before his hand comes to rest on top of your head in a strange head-pat. sakusa’s face is slightly flushed pink, an obvious show that he’s flustered.

“feel better soon,” he mumbles, and you thank him with a smile.

(sakusa was ten minutes late to his photoshoot. when asked why by his teammates, they gave him teasing looks when he said he dropped a few items off by his sick manager’s house.)

(he thinks he may hate his team.)

[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.

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Pick Your Romance Starter- Dark Fae Addition

Plot/Story: Oh no, you've fallen into the Fae Realm through a circle of mushrooms. How convenient, I mean inconvenient! And look, there's some hot Fae men wanting you're attention...how so very clique. But they're not all flowers and sunshine. That would be too damn easy, wouldn't it?

Warnings: Dark Fae, slight non-con touch, blood, 10k words

Notes: The dry-spell has finally worn off and I present to you a little morsel of writing.

Poll is 'here' (Patreon) and here (Tumblr)to choose which character is written for first!

Poll has been finished! Hezirus got the pick. Here is another poll to choose what type of spicey story you want with him.

This is all based on a world built together with a friend. The characters are OCs of mine we play with and use in our stories together. And for your amusement, and torture for my friend, I have started a series where you pick which one I write for first.

This will be a heavy female x male character story. I apologize to my MxM and FxF readers. But I do plan on making these three fuck eventually. Just because it's fun. 

And by all means, give me ideas and feedback. I crave the attention!

Enjoy!

The sharp iron-like smell filled your senses and you felt yourself falling. The warm night air turned bitterly cold and the light from the street disappeared into a wall of black. You blinked. The wind whooshing around you was as loud as a hurricane; before your feet slammed onto stone and you stumbled into something hard and cold. And everything went unnaturally quiet.

You opened your eyes. Blinking rapidly to remove the haziness from your vision as you reached out, calling for your friend. It was dark. Too dark for your eyes just yet.

Your fingers found the cold bars of something circling you. Your hand followed it until you pushed away and stood on your own two feet. Swaying a little, the alcohol still affected your body even as the adrenaline coursed through you.

Finally, after some more blinking and squinting into the dark, your eyes adjusted. And horror filled your stomach as you looked around you.

You were in a cage. An iron cage in the center of a dark room. The floor, the pillars, the walls, all made from gray, smoothed stone. Dust layered the ground like a blanket around your small prison. And thick, but empty, cobwebs lined the corners of the room.

It didn’t look like anyone had been in here for…a very long time.

Your eyes caught the faintest touch of blue light on the floor and you looked down. Finding a glowing ring of sigils carved into the floor, fully encircling your cage. And everytime you moved, the strange letters pulsed with energy and that sharp smell filled your nose once more.

Something in you whispered that it was the same diameter of the mushroom circle you had jumped into… And with that thought, horror filled you. It had happened. It actually…worked. But not in the way you expected.

You don’t know how long you stood in that cage for, calling out into the darkness. It was long enough that the effects of tonight's drinks had worn off and the feeling of dehydration was starting to kick in.

The cold of the room settled on your skin like ice. And you tried to huddle up as much as you could, trying to preserve as much body heat as possible. But the cold iron and the freezing stone was sapping away at your warmth like a hungry beast.

Eventually, just as you started to think you’d be in this dark room forever, a door opened. One you didn’t see at the far end of the room that spilled bright, warm sunlight into the shadows. Making the twilight scatter and your eyes hurt from the blinding rays.

“Well, well, well, I thought all my little traps had been sealed off.” A velvety voice echoed from the doorway. The very sound settled on your skin like the breeze of an autumn afternoon. “What a surprise, indeed.”

Something shifted to your right but when you looked, only darkness stared back. Hiding behind a stone pillar, escaping the bright morning light.

You blinked until the sunlight stopped blinding you and the stranger approached. His boots echoed in the empty room as he closed the distance. His face silhouetted by the soft glow of the blue circle at his feet.

He was handsome. Very handsome. The type of handsome you would take a second glance at because you weren’t sure if your brain properly processed his face. His hair was a slight mess, a dark but silky tangle of blonde and deep brown. Matching a gaze that was fixed, but curious. And you felt every inch of your skin alight with a cold fire when those copper coloured eyes raked over your body. Not an inch of you was left untouched by his gaze. And it left you a little breathless when he smiled.

But your mind was racing. A voice deep within your mind was telling you to run. To hide. Get away from this man and never look back.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” The man asked. The softest curl of a smirk twitching the corner of his lips.

But you didn’t give it. You weren’t stupid. And you remembered what happened. You jumped into a ring of mushrooms and suddenly you were falling. Even if you could blame this on a drunken dream, you still didn’t give this man your name.

When you didn’t reply, the smirk stretched fully across the stranger's face. “Ah, so you’re smart. That’s cute. I haven’t had a smart one in a long time. Come along, then. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re exactly what I need to make up for my little blunder last night.”

The cage groaned around you and three of the metal bars slid into the ground. Allowing you a doorway to step out of your small prison and into the stream of light from the door.

The stranger didn’t look at you as he led the way out of the cold stone room. But still addressed you as you stepped out into the light. “My apologies for leaving you in that cold room all night. We had a little…accident, and I was busy until this morning.”

The man led you into a long corridor of more stone. Though the temperature was vastly more welcoming than the room, it was just as empty and just as dusty. You passed many doors like the one from where you landed. Some were left open, revealing more empty areas with a single cage. Others were closed but something dark marked the metal entryway. It looked suspiciously like old blood.

If this stranger saw you staring, he didn’t give any move to answer your unspoken questions. He led you up a spiraling staircase and a door of heavy carved wood and granite, creaked open before he touched it. Opening up into a sprawling room of many desks and shelves and cabinets.

“Clean her.” The stranger said. And from beneath the desks, dark tendrils launched towards you. Black, clawed hands wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Icy cold fingers latched onto your throat, squeezing just enough to silence the scream of fright from your lungs. Iron strength yanked you forward, making your attempts at fleeing fruitless as you were dragged towards a large basin.

More arms of shadows rose from the stone floor and you watched as steaming hot water was poured into the tub. Buckets of water manifesting from darkness and then disappearing when dropped to the floor.

You didn’t get to take a breath before you were lifted and then dumped into the basin. Hot water burned your skin and drenched your clothes. You gasped for air, but a cold hand slammed your head back under the water and you felt harsh bristles scrape over your bare skin. Something sweet smelling poured onto your hair as your head was yanked back out of the water for a brief moment

You coughed and spluttered, barely getting a breath in before you were dunked back into the water.

Your clothes were torn away. Despite your best effort to keep them against your skin, the material ripped apart under the strength of these shadowy limps. You wrapped your arms around your chest, obscuring the man’s beautiful gaze from seeing too much.

His smile was too sweet. Too wide as you were finally released and you turned your back to him. Your skin burned from the brush and soap. Your hair felt silky and smelled like a field of freshly bloomed flowers. But you were completely bare in front of him.

“That’s much better.” The man said. Leaning against a desk nearby. His molten gaze took in every inch of you before he waved his hand and a shadow presented him with a dress. “Wear this. It suits you much better than…whatever else you were wearing.”

When you didn’t get out of the tub, the man sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he turned around so he was leaning against the desk with his palms on the surface of the table. “I won’t look. Go on, try it on.”

You hesitated. But already the water was starting to get cold and you couldn’t sit in here forever. Curled up and shivering. You sighed heavily and carefully slipped out of the water.

Another shadow appeared beside you with a towel. But it didn’t allow you to take it. Instead, it dried you off, harshly rubbing the soft material against your body until your skin felt sore from the material. But dry.

You grumbled a curse towards the man and snatched the dress from the floating shadow.

Surprisingly, the man kept his word and didn’t turn around. Until you were in the dress and staring down at yourself in horror.

The material was thin…extremely thin… You might as well stand in front of him naked without the gentle glimmer of the sparkly dress. And it was very tight. You could see every curve of your breasts and hips, down to your thighs before the dress spilled out around your feet like a bronze ink spill. The only saving grace to this material was that it darkened around your chest and lower center. Refusing to give a full, clean picture of your body that was hidden beneath the dress.

It didn’t stop the perked peaks of your nipples from the cold air. And the stranger hummed a low sound in his throat as he adjusted the sleeve of the dress and picked at some imaginary lint on your waist.

“Much, much better.” The man said. He started to circle you. His eyes scraped over your body as you stood frozen under his gaze. He picked at the dress and the shadows appeared with trinkets and jeweled chains. Your wrists were wrapped in silk and your neck was decorated by a thin, delicate silver chain with topaz stones resting warmly against your neck. A belt of lace loosely circled your hips and your cheeks were assaulted by a dusting of red. Giving you a small blush before cold hands grabbed your face and the man stepped closer.

His forefinger lengthened, growing a black claw that came to a dangerously pointed tip. And you tried to yank yourself away from him but the shadows held you firmly in place. You could only watch in growing horror as the dark talon descended towards your eye…and cautiously drew a line along your upper lashes. Then the man delicately did the same on the other. Giving you a perfect dark eye-liner flick.

The man then stood back. His other hand held your chin as he tilted your face back and forth, admiring the touches he did to you. The shadows relaxed when you did. And you allowed this stranger to do what he wished with your face.

“What’s your name?” You asked him. Finding this close proximity with the handsome face was filling your chest with sharp flutters. You could see the finer details. The sharp, pointed ears. The tattoos under the collar of his shirt and the dusting of gold along his face. Perhaps a decorative choice?

“Jackal Borcalas, Royal Archivist and Spy Master of the Wilds” His smile was predatory. Proud. Cocky. As if the widening of your eyes gave him a sense of smugness. “But Jackal is fine, sweet thing. And yours?”

He said it so casually you almost willingly gave it to him. Like carrying on a normal conversation. But you clapped your mouth shut and glared up at Jackal. Rewarding yourself with a laugh from the Spy Master.

“Ah, well, you can’t blame a man for trying.” Jackal said, shrugging. Then his hands moved from your face down to your body. Adjusting chains and bracelets and anything else the shadows had placed on you.

But you found his hand barely touched you. His fingers brushed over your hips but didn’t linger for too long. The pads of his fingers glossed over your perked nipples but his eyes didn’t stray any longer than they needed. His attention was too focused on his task that you doubted he even knew where he was touching.

“Gorgeous.” Jackal purred. And despite the hungry look in his eyes, you sensed the genuine compliment behind his words. Or was that just a…Fae thing to get you comfortable around him. “Now, a few things before I throw you to the wolves.”

You felt the blood drain from your face with his words. And that wicked smile returned, alongside the cold touch of shadows as they wrapped around your legs and started moving them. You felt like a doll on strings, puppeteered after Jackal as he turned and exited the room.

Your captor led you into more corridors and halls. Many stone steps and coloured glass windows that bathed you in greens and golds and bronze. You didn’t get to look around. The shadows had you transfixed on watching Jackal’s back as he walked through…wherever you were.

“If you want to live through the day, you will follow these rules to the absolute letter. Do not look directly into his eyes. He gets…crabby when you do it for too long. And keep your hands off of him unless he places them somewhere. He doesn’t like to be touched. Do not turn your back on him unless he tells you to do so, and for the love of the Moon, do not touch his horns. Just…keep your hands to yourself unless you’re ordered otherwise.” Jackal said all this while he led you towards a massive metal door. The shadows relieved their hold just enough that you could finally look around you. But your gaze was transfixed on the entrance before you.

Towering above you was a grotesque, twisted display of melted weapons and armor. Swords Maces Axes Shields Any and all kinds had been liquified against the doors. You spotted helmets and chest plates carved through with spears. All dented, all worn, from battle.

“Oh, and also, for my later entertainment, keep yourself alive.” Jackal whispered, looking over your shoulder at him. “We haven’t had a human here in…centuries. So try to make your stay last a little longer than a few minutes.”

With a wave of Jackal’s hand, the war-torn doors opened with an ear-clawing sound of metal on the stone floor.

A blast of heat slammed into you as a voice as deep as thunder growled from within a dimly lit room. “What do you want, snake?” Your very bones vibrated with the voice. And a knot of fear coiled in your stomach as Jackal entered the room.

The shadows had you follow him and you entered a room that was more like a throne room. It was a vast space of furs and blankets. Blazing fires were cradled in braziers along the walls and candles flickered on hanging chandeliers made of bone and skulls. The scent of sulfur and burning meat filled your nose and you tried not to gag as you passed a body laying on the floor. Three deep gashes tore up the person’s back and blood pooled around their limp body. Their face twisted in agony and terror.

Jackal didn’t even look at it. He continued to stroll into the heated room towards a pile of furs and hides.

“I brought you a gift.” Jackal said. His voice echoing in the massive room. Mixing with the heavy breathing of something huge in front of you. The shadows didn’t let you go. They kept you firmly in place behind Jackal.

Something sniffed the air. And you felt the very air around you shift with each deep breath. You started shaking as the tiled floor trembled. The blast of heat came closer and closer. The heat in the room roared and you felt like your arms were being scorched by a blazing fire. Your ears popped and the tremble through the floor halted, but you heard the distinct sound of bare feet stepping over tile towards you.

And then Jackal stepped to the side and you were suddenly staring at a broad chest of muscle and scales.

The shadows released your head. Allowing you to look up, almost craning your neck all the way back, to meet a burning red gaze of a man. He was massive, much taller than 6ft and broad, rippling with muscle. Scars streaked across his arms and chest, giving a stark pale contrast to his dark complexion. A creature of war and battle.

But what was more terrifying was the plating of black scales that protruded from his dark skin. Horns swept out from atop his head. Splitting apart thick, shiny black hair that was braided amongst the crown of thick spikes. And his gaze was heavy. Watching. Calculating.

Jackal tsked harshly and you quickly dropped your eyes. Remembering what Jackal had said only moments before.

The man in front of you growled, a deep rumble that rippled through you like thunder. “A human?” A voice of stone sounded surprised. And you flinched when a massive hand wrapped around your waist, his fingers almost completely encircling your hips, and yanked you closer.

Black scales filled your vision as the man buried his nose into your hair. You felt him take a deep breath and the growl turned into something like a broken purr as the man laughed a cynical chuckle. “Is this your way of saying sorry, snake?” The scaled man snapped at Jackal. Releasing you before stalking over to the much smaller man.

Despite their size difference, and the display of bared teeth from the other man, Jackal remained perfectly calm. His hands resting behind his back as if he was having a casual conversation with someone.

“This is my way of mending my mistake.” Jackal replied slowly. “Hezirus will want her for himself. But I thought you should get some time with her before she’s claimed entirely. I thought it would be a nice…treat, Maahes, from me to you. From a friend.”

That word brought a snarl out of Maahes. Like he didn’t like how it sounded coming out of Jackal’s mouth. “Watch it, snake. You almost cost me my territory last night. A morsel won’t make up for that blunder.”

“Then let it be the start of my amendment to you.” Jackal titled his chin down in a submissive display. And whatever rage Maahes had, seemed to melt away. You felt the sharp tang of something hit your nose and suddenly the beast in front of you roared.

Claws raked through the marble pillar where Jackal had been standing moments before. Then you felt the shadows retreat and Jackal was standing in the doorway behind you. An amused smile across his lips

Maahes roared again, crimson eyes glowing with a surge of anger. “Keep your filthy magic out of my head!”

The doors slammed closed with a thunderous bang as Jackal laughed. Leaving you alone with a creature that was practically shaking with rage.

Your eyes swooped to the floor when the beast looked at you. You heard the click of claws as he approached. Two dark tree trunks entered your view and you realized he was standing right in front of you. He at least wasn’t naked, wearing a loose pair of dark trousers. But the thin dress did very little to make you feel protected at this moment.

“What is your name?” Maahes asked. You didn’t respond, cowering in front of him. The beast snarled and a rough grip wrapped around the underside of your jaw and forced you to look up at him. You kept your gaze from staring into the pools of rubies, looking at the scar that carved down his neck and to his collarbone. “I am not a Fairy, sweet morsel. I won’t use your name against you. What do I call you?”

You felt him lift you a little. Until you were standing on your tiptoes to stop him from choking you. “(y/n)” You managed to say. And the grip released you.

“Get me a drink, (y/n).” Your name rolled on his tongue like he was tasting you through those words. It sounded awfully sinful to hear it. And you quickly hurried over to the table by the dead body. Where an array of goblets and bottles were laid out. You choose the largest cup and fill it with an amber liquid. You had to carry it with both hands to ensure it didn’t spill and didn’t strain one arm too much. Hurrying back to Maahes, who had returned to lounge on the pile of furs. Which even his massive frame seemed to be swallowed by the vast mattress of pelts.

The beast rumbled. But it wasn’t an aggressive sound. You almost thought he sounded pleased as you carefully climbed onto the furs and offered him the wine. He took the cup from your hands. And as he pressed the wine to his lips, his free hand lashed out and took purchase of your hips before you attempted to step away.

You couldn’t fight him. The amount of strength beneath those fingers alone was enough to pull you towards him with barely any effort.

You found yourself flush against his side. His scales, rough and jagged, pushed painfully against your soft skin. And once you were positioned how he wanted, the hand moved down to cup your ass. His talons caught on the material of your dress as he squeezed hard. Making you wince a little.

“How did the snake manage to catch you?” Maahes asked. Placing his cup precariously on a position of the bed as he moved so he was on top of you. His nose scraped against your neck and you felt his teeth playfully pull at the silver chain around your throat. “Trapping humans was outlawed centuries ago. Did he say some pretty words and you were suddenly here? Or did you fall through a mirror?”

His words were surprisingly teasing for how rough his hands were on your body. The pads of his fingers were calloused and coarse, sweeping along your thighs before moving you so he could settle between your legs. He was massive above you. Obscuring the ceiling and bone chandeliers with his mass.

You explained what happened. Recalling the ring of mushrooms on the side of the walkway on your way home. The stupid decision to test fate and jump into the circle. Laughing, thinking nothing would come of it. And then accidentally said ‘we’ jumped in, and those crimson eyes pulsed intensely.

“There’s two of you?” Maahes asked. Glancing at the door as if Jackal was about to come through it again with another person. You said you didn’t see your friend in the cage and the man shrugged. Returning his mouth to the hollow of your neck. His lips sending goosebumps along your skin as his hot breath bathed along your chest.

It was a long moment of licking and hard nips along your neck before Maahes changed position. Burying his face against your breasts. Even through the dress, you could feel his mouth hungrily take in your left nipple and rake his tongue over the peak.

“No matter. I’ll feast on you first before I worry about someone else's pet.” You felt him shift against you and something huge and hard pressed against your clothed core. Then Maahes raised his mouth and a burning hot tongue seared along your neck, carrying the smell of wine and meat along your flesh, up to your cheek before your lips were harshly trapped between Maahes’.

Your struggling only seemed to amuse Maahes. As you tried to push him off and twist away from him. But just as he forced your lips open with his tongue, the doors to the room blasted open in a cold gust of wind. The flames around you simmered out under the gust and the chandeliers swung wildly above you.

Maahes growled and tore his mouth from yours. He poised above you like a beast protecting a kill. Thick arms caging you against the bed as the sound of his snarl ripped through you. You could feel the vibrations through your core, from where his covered bulge was firmly pressed against your core.

You turned your head, peering around Maahes’ arms to see a gorgeous man standing in the streaming sunlight. Like an angel, wings of bronze and gold framed his tall figure and a thick set of arms were crossed over his chest. Lines crinkled his perfect brow and long chocolate brown hair was kept away from his face by a gold crown of gnarled vines and flowers.

“Maahes,” The man said the beast’s name like a warning. But his tone was playful, teasing. “What have you got there?”

Maahes’ snarl crumbled into a softer sound. But he didn’t move from atop of you. His talons ripped into the furs as his hands turned to fists beside your body. “She’s mine.”

“Not anymore she isn’t.” The angel said. Stepping into the dark room, closer to the creature that was bent low over your frozen body. “I caught her scent on my way to breakfast. I don’t know how Jackal got her, but she’s a guest in my palace. I won’t have you break her on her first morning here.”

Soft, bronze eyes fell upon you and his smile softened. But those warning bells in your head were singing again. Even more so than they had with Jackal. “Give her to me, Maahes.” The man said, his wings opening a touch to make him seem so much bigger than he was. “I won’t ask again.”

The beast above you growled deep and threatening. You braced for something to happen. Another gust of wind. A fist. Claws. Something.

But then the heavy, hot weight of Maahes disappeared as he crawled off of you. And you scrambled off the bed to stand beside the winged man. Hiding behind him as his wing opened to protect you from Maahes’ heated gaze. “Good boy.” The crowned stranger said. A very careful smile placed over his lips. “Do not let me catch you playing with her again.”

Maahes’ gaze lowered to the furs. But you could see the tension in his body and the thick, throbbing vein that was protruding from his neck. He bowed. “Yes, Prince Hezirus.”

That seemed to be enough for the…prince. And he turned, his wing shifting to envelope you in a warm embrace against your back and guiding you out of the room.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind you both. And the wings of the prince moved to lazily return to his back. A different type of heat simmered in his gaze when the prince turned to you. A striking difference from the softness he offered you before. “Now, human, you will tell me how you got here. And why you’re…dressed the way you are.” Despite the quizzical tone, Prince Hezirus’ eyes were just as hungry and heavy as Jackal’s when you first got dressed. You instinctively tried to cover yourself but a narrowed glare from the person in front of you made you halt.

Your arms dropped to your sides as you explained everything. But this time, you kept the ‘we’ out of it. Only insinuating that you alone jumped into the very obvious Fae trap.

“But you know our customs,” The prince hummed. Tilting his head like how a dog did when it was intrigued by something. “You won’t give me your name. You even called the circle a trap. So…you knew what it was.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. The drunken stupor of a joke was now very obviously a suicide sentence. “I didn’t think it would work.” You argued. “I was…drunk.”

“Superstition has kept your people alive longer than you’d think. You should start listening to your fable stories, there’s a reason they exist.” The prince began walking and you hurried to follow. The tall man, possibly as tall as the beast on the furs, didn’t shorten his strides to let you keep up. Instead, you had to fasten your steps to almost jog alongside him.

“Where am I?” You asked. Finally looking at your surroundings. There were large paintings that covered the towering walls. The ceiling looked like marble with many hanging candles and torches to illuminate what the sun couldn’t. Massive glass windows bathed your walk with the prince in color. But at least this time you could see the shapes of beasts and battles and fields of flowers as you passed them.

It was all very beautiful.

“You’re in the Fae Wilds. My kingdom.” The prince replied. His chin tilted up with pride as he spoke. “I am Prince Hezirus of the Wilds. Son of Queen Melusine, the Lady of the Forest. You’re in my palace in the deepest forest of our kingdom. My…holiday home, I guess you would call it.”

You stalled for a moment to peek through one of the windows. Spying the grounds of the estate that sprawled out in grassy knolls and flowing creeks that sliced through lush gardens and tumbled through the gnarled roots of mountainous trees.

There were people working in the gardens and some walked the earthy paths through the estate. Someone even started flying into the branches of a nearby tree. With wings like an insect.

A soft cough from the prince made you turn. Finding him standing by the cliff of a long stairwell that led down and into the center of the palace. You quickly hurried back to his side and started descending next to him.

“It’s beautiful.” You said. Unable to keep your eyes on one thing at a time. A man walked past you both, bowing deeply to the prince before walking briskly away. His features reminded you of a rat.

“Thank you. But you will have time to see everything soon. I want you to join me for breakfast.” The prince said. And you followed him down a corridor and into a grand hall. A long table was presented before you. Its surface was chock-full of plates and bowls of food. All steaming, like the dishes had just come out of the oven.

At the end of the table sat a beautifully crafted chair of twisted roots and vines. The cushions looked as soft as clouds and a plate of sourdough bread, bathed in eggs and bacon with a drizzle of white sauce, was sitting awaiting the prince.

Hezirus waved his hand and a chair pulled itself from the table next to the prince. And Hezirus gestured for you to sit, before he flicked his hand and the chair pushed you snugly against the table. A plate was placed in front of you by an owl-faced woman and the prince seated himself in his chair.

Leaning his cheek on his fist, propped up by his elbow on the table, he watched you curiously. “Please, eat. Enjoy.”

The smells of everything laid out in front of you was maddening. Your stomach twisted in hunger and the slight hangover that had plagued you with a headache, wished for water. But you didn’t reach for any of it. And watched the prince take his gaze off you just enough to take a bite out of his egg smothered bread slice.

“So now you start to believe in your fables?” The prince asked. An amused smile twitching his lips as he chewed. “I do not need to charm you to keep you here, lovely thing. You may eat freely. This food is not poisoned and untouched by magic. Other than what is needed to prepare certain dishes.”

You still didn’t reach for anything. Not even the water. Which sat chilled in a glass pitcher in front of you. Like it was teasing you. You shook your head. “Thank you. But I’ll skip breakfast.”

The prince’s eyes flashed gold and suddenly you were reaching for the water. You tried with all your might to stop yourself from pouring a glass, but your hands worked just like they did when the shadows had hold of you.

Puppeteered.

Helpless.

You tried to cry out as your fingers brought the glass of water to your lips. But your body defied you. And you sipped cleanly, without choking, a long draught of water down your parched throat. Once you had placed the glass down you felt your body return to your control and you stood. Almost knocking the chair over as you jerked away from the table.

“Like I said, I do not need to charm you to make you stay.” The prince said. As if you had asked about the weather. So casually glossing over what he just did. “Your tales of us are true…in some sense. But we hold more power than we allowed you to believe. Please. Eat. You look like you’re about to pass out. And I won’t tell you again. You won’t like it if I have to do it myself.”

It was true. You could feel the edge of your mind falling into a dizzy spiral. And the thought of you passing out in front of him made the hunger turn to fear. You shook your head, clearing it, and sat down before your legs gave out. And begrudgingly served yourself some pancakes.

And it was the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Whether it was because of hunger, or the Fae chefs, it was delicious. Even the fruit you ate was sweet and juicy. Perfect. Also too perfect.

But if you didn’t eat, you were sure he’d probably force you too. So, you gave in. As much as the logical side of the brain was screaming at you to stop.

The prince’s gaze never left your lips as you ate. His eyes were persistently on you, even as he devoured his own breakfast and poured a cup of something that smelled strongly of coffee.

“Did Jackal explain anything to you before he shoved you into a room with a horny Drake?” The prince asked. An eyebrow raising when you told him of the rules Jackal gave you. And you added on that you were meant to be a treat, as a means of amendment from Jackal.“At least he wanted you to live through the morning. And yes, Jackal made a small mistake last night. Maahes exaggerates, it wasn’t so bad he’d lose his territory. He’s just angry he lost a bet at all. You were lucky I found you before Maahes went too far. I do enjoy it when Maahes is rough with me. But your delicate body would snap apart the moment he pulls down his pants.”

The rush of heat that exploded in your body, crawling up your neck and into your cheeks made the prince chuckle. “That’s adorable. But also very dangerous. Don’t do that around Maahes. If he gets whiff that you’re into things like him, you’ll be chained to his hips and riding his cock until your body breaks.”

You tried to argue. Maybe say something that it wasn’t arousal, but shock at the prince’s choice of words. But the prince shot you a look that silenced your rebuttal before it began. “I can smell it on you, pet. Don’t even try lying to my face. It won’t end well for you.” His words carried a threat that made your skin crawl with a chill. Even if his tone was light and teasing. Something in his gaze had your heart racing.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked. You wanted to know, so you could at least brace for whatever was about to happen to you. How many books have you read about similar scenarios? You had the hot, sexy men part ticked off. A strange, weird place in the Fae realm, checked. But this wasn’t a romance. You were just left to the mercy of a creature with scales. Given a hint at the power that could make you do anything the man in front of you wanted.

Your life very much was in danger right now.

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet.” The prince said. Leaning back in his chair as he regarded you with a critical eye. Like he was appraising a piece of art. “But I’m sure you’re asking if I’m going to kill you. Eat your bones. Turn you into a…I don’t know. What do we Fae do to humans? It’s been centuries since I’ve talked to one. But you never forget the scent.” The prince breathed in deeply and released it slowly with a long sigh. When his eyes opened, his pupils were blown wide like he was intoxicated.

“Such a delicious fragrance. It used to drive me mad in my youth. The lust. The hunger. Oh, fuck, the sex…” The prince finally looked at you again. As if suddenly remembering you were there and had asked a question. “No, dear pet, I am not going to kill you. Some of my court might try. But I’ve already ordered them that you are to be untouched. Left only for me to squeeze.”

He flashed you a smile that made his already handsome face become even more beautiful. “Anyone that tries to force themselves on you will meet my wrath. You are welcome to wander the palace. I do suggest staying as far away from Maahes as possible. And don’t go into the gardens until-”

“If I may, Hez.” The sudden voice of Jackal made you jump as he appeared by your side. Seeming to appear out of thin air as he joined you at the table. Sitting to your right. “I suggest we keep her caged until the staff and court get used to the scent of her in the estate. Already there has been enough unrest that Maahes has had his fill of Fae blood. She will be safer in the dungeons until you solidify the order for her to remain untouched.”

The prince played with the fabric of his tunic as he thought over Jackal’s words. His eyes following the line of your neck to your shoulders and then to the material that smothered your breasts into a perfect soft mound. “You make a good point, Jackal. However…because it was your trap that brought her here, she is your responsibility.”

Jackal’s jaw twinged as he glanced at you. “Hez, I cannot afford to be distracted from my work. I cannot continuously check on her in the cells-”

“Then have her in your office until you ensure she won’t be touched down there.” The prince smiled. A sense of amusement flashing over his face as he winked at you. “Jackal will take fine care of you until I have time for you, pet. Stay close to him and do what he says.”

A sharp scent ripped through your nose and you winced as your mind latched onto the words the prince spoke. An order. An order given by a Fae prince laced with…magic.

“I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try and run from me.” Jackal said. Sighing heavily as he took a sausage from one of the plates and took a bite from it. “Come on then, Lily. Time to watch me do paperwork for hours on end.”

“Lily?” Hezirus asked as Jackal stood. You felt your body follow suit. But it wasn’t anything like the cold touch of shadows or the constricting power from Hezirus. You wanted to follow Jackal. You were told to do as he said, and damn well you will do it.

“It’s not her name.” Jackal assured the prince. “She’s as lovely as a lily. So, that’s what I’ll call her.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that suits her.” Hezirus said thoughtfully. Tilting his head as he looked you up and down again.

“Well, she’s your pet. You pick a name for her.” Then Jackal smiled viciously and tapped the tip of your nose. “Or are you going to introduce yourself?”

When your glare was the only reply they got, the two men laughed and Jackal clicked his tongue. You followed him like a puppy on a leash, up many staircases and through many corridors. Until you found yourself back in the room you started in. Where the basin had now been emptied of water but the room still smelled of the shampoo in your hair.

“Sit.” Jackal ordered. And your body slumped into a wooden chair by a large desk. One that was covered in many long pieces of parchment and piles of books. A few empty ink pots were put to the side. While a stack of new ones awaited to be used. “You might want to get comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

You looked around. Attempting to get comfortable in the wooden chair next to Jackal’s desk. Much unlike the plush, armchair-like seat he possessed, the wood was hard against your ass and the surface cold to the touch.

A few minutes passed as Jackal opened a few books and arranged them to stand in small holders to keep them open. He arranged paper out in front of him and then opened a thick, leather bound book by his left hand. You tapped your fingernails against the wood of the chair. Already insane from the quiet of the room.

“Can I have a book or something?” You asked. And Jackal scoffed a laugh.

“I doubt I have anything here that you can read. It’s all documents and spellbooks; all in languages you can’t read.” Jackal waited for you to argue. But when you didn’t give a rebuttal about knowing more languages than one, he left it to rest. “If you’d like to pass the time, you’re more than welcome to pass the time on me.” The smile was playful. Menacingly teasing as he smirked at you when your cheeks flushed pink.

“You’re not going to order me to do that?” You asked scornfully. And Jackal shrugged, plucking a quill from its seat in an ink pot and started writing.

“I could. Since Hezirus gave you the order to do whatever I say. Or I could force you to do it with my servants. But it’s not as much fun when the giver uses teeth and tries drawing blood every second.” At the word ‘servants’ the shadows from beneath the desks nearby came alive and crawled over the floor towards you. You pulled your dress away from the curious clawed hands and the room filled with whispered laughter as you gasped in horror.

Jackal tsked and the shadows scattered. Returning to being nothing more than dark spots under the desks. “Now hush, I have to concentrate.”

You must have dozed off somewhere after the third hour mark of sitting and doing nothing. The room was bitterly cold now and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position when a touch of fire brushed over your thigh.

You jerked awake. Startling when you came face to face with Jackal. Who had turned his chair towards you and was sitting almost directly between your legs. Both of his hands were coiled around your right thigh. Molding the cool skin with his fingers so gently that it almost tickled.

“Get your hands-”

“Shush, I’m thinking.” Jackal barked back. And the harshness of his voice froze you in place. Or was it the order to do as he says? You had no idea, but you knew that you were helpless in that chair as he squeezed your leg like he was kneading dough into shape. Scraping his palm along your skin through the velvety material of your dress. You had to lean back as he lifted your calf and draped your leg over his lap. You were left completely open to him in this position. But Jackal didn’t seem to notice.

He never went any higher than your upper thigh. His eyes were distant, staring at your chest but not actually paying attention to the shape of your cleavage. It was just the last place he looked before his thoughts trailed off.

You kept quiet. At least welcoming the warmth from Jackal’s lap and touch over your chilled skin.

Any longer here and you were going to freeze. You’d even welcome the harsh treatment of the hot bath just to warm you up. The dress was useless against the breeze that blew in from the open window. And the sun was beginning to go down.

Shit…have you already been here the entire day? No wonder your back was killing you.

Jackal startled you by humming and dropping your leg from his lap. Non-delicately letting your bare foot slap against the stone and you shuffled back onto the chair. He returned to his desk and started feverishly writing something down.

You stayed silent. Kicking your leg over the other to try and savor some of the tingling warmth from Jackal’s fingers. You hated how tenderly he had touched you. Because your core kind of enjoyed the attention.

The sky outside was pitch black and somewhere in the castle, you heard distant screams. It had started some hours ago and had long since lost its pitch. But the volume was still there. Telling you of the absolute agony that was ripping through someone.

“It’s no one you know.” Jackal assured you. Seeing your worried expression. “Maahes told me that there was a second human that jumped in the trap with you. And so far, I haven’t found them. Even if someone already claimed your friend, there would be traces of her. When a Fae consumes or fucks a human there’s…changes.”

That was at least comforting. But hearing such visceral cries turned your blood cold and nausea twisted in your stomach.

They were cut off rather quickly some hours after nightfall. And you weren’t sure if the silence following it was worse or better.

Jackal leaned back in his chair and stretched. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the toned body beneath the fine black tunic. But you tore your eyes away just as Jackal glanced at you.

“You’ve been rather quiet…Oh, right, I told you to shush. You can talk now. I don’t need to think for a bit.”

“I was going to say to get your hands off me.” You snapped. Suddenly finding an urge to speak now Jackal told you so. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

“But you’re so soft and warm.” Jackal practically purred. His arms hanging over the back of his chair as he stared at you. And this time, he really stared at you. With an intensity that had you looking away and a fresh wave of heat flooding your center. And that little nibble of his bottom lip was an added unfair flare.

“You’re disgusting.” You mumbled.

“I’m sure you'll change your mind eventually.” Jackal chuckled. The molten copper turned sharp once more as he returned them to the desk full of freshly scrawled paper. “If you were literate I’d have you read these so I can rest my eyes. But you’re unfortunately not that useful.”

“I can read.” You hissed and Jackal rolled his eyes. Lowering his arms so they came to rest on the desk.

“Can you read dwarvish?” Jackal asked. Then he clicked his tongue when you huffed a curse at him and turned your head away again. “Like I said, illiterate. Shame…it would have been cute having you sit on my lap while you read this over.”

“Fuck off.”

Jackal laughed and sighed. The breath was heavy as it filled his lungs. “I better get you to your cell before I let your arousal do anymore to me. Get up, little flower. And stay close. Maahes is wandering the halls looking for a chance to drag you under him again. And Hezirus is busy ensuring the court doesn’t devour you through the night. So, I’m all you have keeping you alive until we get you to your cage.”

You stood before your mind could think of doing so. And then you were walking beside Jackal through the palace, a step behind him. “What is stopping Maahes from…getting in my..cage?” It sounded weird to say. And you dearly hoped it wasn’t going to be a cage in the middle of a room like the one you appeared in.

“Hezirus.” Jackal replied, as a matter of factly. “Our prince holds alot of power. And not even a Drake as powerful as Maahes can disobey his orders while in his own home. He’ll try to lure you to his bed chambers, or the floor, I’m sure. But as long as you keep saying ‘no’, you’ll be safe.”

“That’s all that is stopping him from…you know…”

“Words hold more power here than your world, sweet flower. And Hezirus has explicitly ordered your words are the rules to your body. So, be mindful when speaking to anyone here. It might save your life.”

You trailed alongside Jackal as he took you deeper into the palace. Down even more stairs and corridors, until he stopped outside of a steel door. You weren’t stupid. This was a dungeon, deep under the palace. You could smell bile and filth from the other locked rooms. And the air was cold and thick.

But there were no guards here. Only the flickering torches along the walls and the soft, pained whimpering of the other prisoners.

“I had your cell cleaned before I brought you down here.” Jackal said. As if his words made it all better as the door to the cell opened without him touching it. Revealing a cramped, dark room. A cot was pushed into the corner. Merely a wooden pallet with hay stuffed into the crevasses and a thin blanket covering the splintering wood.

The pillow looked thin and splotched with gray marks.

“I’m going to freeze down here.” You said. Pulling at the stretchy material of your outfit. “This is barely going to keep me warm.”

“That’s Hezirus’ problem, not mine.” Jackal replied.

Then a hard cold force slammed into you and you stumbled into the cell. The door creaked shut and you heard a lock click into place. You rushed to the door as Jackal opened the little slit, allowing you to see his copper eyes through the darkness.

“Whenever Hezirus remembers his pet is down here, I’m sure he’ll provide you with all the best luxuries your little human body needs.” Jackal said with a roll of his bright eyes. “I, however, do not have time to babysit you at every minute. So, you’ll sit down here, in the dark, like a good girl until things settle. My servants swarm this place, so you’re safe. Just don’t make too much noise. Or you’ll attract some unwanted attention. Get some sleep, little flower. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

You beat your fists against the door as the slit slid closed. Calling after Jackal in a colorful array of words and sentences. Some even got an impressed whistle out of the spy-master before you heard his boots disappear.

You retreated from the door when someone screamed from a nearby cell. The whispering laughter of shadows echoed through the darkness in response.

You went to the cot. The wood creaked under your weight as you curled up against the corner of the room. Gathering the thin blanket around you. Ignoring the itchiness from the hay and tried very hard not to think of bugs crawling in your hair or down along your arms.

You tried to stay awake. Something was moving beyond the cell door but it never came any closer. Someone would scream or start crying. Another would start begging. Only to be silenced by a harsh hiss that made your blood run cold.

You curled up tighter and closed your eyes. Hoping the sun would scatter the shadows when it rose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Continuation: Prince Hezirus: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Patreon)

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[writtnbyhan]

Let me take care of you.

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

TAGS: sickfic, idol!han, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1927

PROMPT: "and just when were you going to tell me about your [injury/illness]?" You're sick and Jisung is worried -- That's the plot.

warnings: mentions of being sick (reader has a cold). Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: i don't know where this came from. I had something very different planned for today's post but this came to me in a vision and now i can only think of jisung taking care of his s/o, he's so baby and he's probably so good at taking care of people !!!!! i just wanna be in between his arms !! being cared for !!!

Okay, here’s the thing: you knew you were getting kinda sick. You knew from the way your body ached when you first woke up, from the sore throat and from the general feeling of being unwell. However, you decided it was not a big deal, and that was obviously your first mistake.

It was Jisung’s kind-of-free day, which meant he only had to go to the studio with 3RACHA to work on “some stuff”, as he put it himself, refusing to elaborate claiming that it was a surprise. You knew they were probably working on music for the next comeback even when this one wasn’t even out yet, and that’s why Jisung wouldn’t come clean, wanting to avoid your reprimanding from overworking themselves when they finally have some free time from the studio, only having to comply with the schedules related to the comeback.

On these days, he was usually only busy for a few hours before they got distracted with something random and therefore decided to call it quits, going home and relaxing for a few hours before moving onto the next scheduled activity. Today, Jisung didn’t have any of those, only going to the studio and then straight back home. You didn’t want to ruin what little time together you were getting these days, and you weren’t actually sick yet, so it wasn’t anything you should worry about.

You woke up alone, the other side of the bed unmade from when Hanji woke up, earlier, and went to the gym before the studio. He spent most nights with you, cuddling to make up for the time you weren’t capable of being together due to busy schedules and responsibilities. Everything ached, and the only thing you wanted to do was cover yourself with the sheets and sleep some more. But, you couldn’t do that. You needed to take a shower, clean up a bit, and force yourself to feel better. “Just for today, tomorrow we can be sick,” you told your body as you got out of bed, frowning and closing your eyes when the light coming through the window was quick to cause you a headache.

Shower first, you decided, going for the warm water and hoping it’d help with the pain on your body. It did, luckily. You then brushed your teeth, noticing on the mirror that the bags under your eyes were darker and more noticeable. Yes, you were obviously getting sick. Tomorrow. You were getting sick tomorrow, because today you had to spend the day with Jisung and cuddle with him watching Ghibli movies, it was a need.

After breakfast, you took some ibuprofen and sent Jisung a quick text.

“good morning, baby. hope everything’s going well at the studio, missing you already :)”

Putting your phone down after that, you set out to clean up the apartment, taking more ibuprofen whenever your body was being inconvenient to you.

“hello cutie, we’re actually wrapping up for the day!! going home in 30, love you.” You read the text when ten minutes had already passed since it was received. With a smile on your face, you sent a quick reply, knowing it wasn’t necessary given that he was already coming home, but also knowing that he would sulk if you didn’t reply to his “love you”.

“love you too<3 will be waiting with the popcorn ready.”

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and conditioning the living room for

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and setting up the living room for your movie plans, bringing all the blankets you could find (which was not actually necessary, but you were starting to feel cold so you thought it’d be better to have those around) and the pillows from your bed.

As you were placing the popcorn on the table with some juice, the door opened, and in came the squirrel-looking boy that was able to put a smile on your face instantaneously, even when you were feeling so ill.

“Hello, my love!” you said, dramatically, bringing a hand to your own chest as if to hold your heart. “I thought you’d never make it, I was left missing you for too long!”

He smiled with that heart-shaped smile that made your heart do spins. You felt dizzy just by looking at him (okay, maybe that was the cold you probably had, but you decided to convince yourself it was Jisung’s fault). “My lady, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, shall we begin with our plans?”

You giggled, skipping towards him to give him a kiss on the cheek and drag him to the couch that was currently surrounded by blankets. You chose one and threw it over both of you, getting comfortable in between your boyfriend’s arms with the remote in hand.

Halfway through the first Ghibli movie of the night, you began sneezing.

“’m sorry” you mumbled, getting up to grab some tissues and noticing you felt much more sick than in the morning.

You should tell Jisung, you knew that. But he’d worry, and you didn’t want to cut your night together short.

So, you didn’t. You grabbed the tissues and got back into his arms, kissing his hands when they were in front of you. Jisung freezed when you did that, and you frowned — it was a common gesture between the two of you, why was he reacting like that?

His hand went quickly to your forehead.

Oh, that.

Jisung gasped.

“Baby, you’re burning up.”

He sounded worried, and you sighed.

“I know.” You said. You didn’t actually know you had a fever, but you didn’t want him to make a fuss. You wanted to watch movies together, and cuddle, and sleep. And okay, maybe you had a headache and that had made you grumpy, which was something that always happened when you were sick so Jisung was used by now to your complaints about his caring.

However, despite knowing you always reacted badly to feeling unwell, that comment had made him frown, looking at you while his hand was still on your forehead.

“You knew?” he repeated, clearly agravated by what you had just told him. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me? When you collapsed in the hallway or while I was being forced to bring you to the hospital?”

He was being dramatic, of course, but the sincerity in his worry and his concern made your heart soften a little, so you directed your eyes to the floor, blinking to try and ease the headache that had formed from looking at the screen for too long.

“I didn’t wanna worry you” you mumbled, voice soft and shy. He melted a little at that, his anger dissapearing almost as quick as it had made his way forth.

“Baby, you need someone to take care of you when you’re feeling like this. We could’ve just cuddled in bed so you were more comfortable, and I could’ve been checking on your temperature and your medicine. What hurts?” he asked, giving a little kiss to your forehead before letting his hold around you loosen, clearly having plans of getting up.

You whined at the lost of his warmth against your back, your eyes filling up with unwanted tears at the cold and the loneliness you suddenly felt.

“Hannie…” you cried out, looking up at him, who looked almost bewildered. When he met your eyes, a pout formed in his face. He extended his arms towards you, now standing in front of the couch, and hugged you so you could attach yourself to him like a koala would to a tree. Your hold was weak, so he made sure to keep you safe with one hand on your back while he wrapped a blanket around you as if you were a baby. You knew the plan was to get you to your shared bed so you could cuddle more comfortably and drift off to sleep when you needed it. Problem was: you had needed it for about 15 minutes by now, so hiding your face in his neck and letting his warmth envelop you, you were quick to fall asleep against him, not minding his movements or the sounds around you.

You woke up when it was already dark outside. A wet cloth was on your forehead and you were now in bed, your boyfriend’s hand on your waist and Ponyo playing in the background. You looked to your bedside table and found a water bottle and some pills that you knew you didn’t have in your house. You knew Jisung never wanted to leave your side when you were sick, no matter that you were asleep, so you were sure he had those delivered or asked one of the boys to pick them up for him.

You turned around, letting the wet cloth fall off so as to hide your face in his chest. You felt better after sleeping, and you were sure your fever had subsided because you no longer felt cold, but your throat was still sore and your eyes still stung with the light.

At your movement, Han directed all his attention towards you, kissing your forehead and tightening his hold on your waist.

“Hello, sleepyhead. You need to take some medicine, I asked Chan-hyung to bring it here because all you had was some ibuprofen, and you were running out of it. How are you feeling?” he asked, his free hand caressing your hair and making you feel a lot more relaxed, even when your back still ached and your throat hurt.

“I’m okay,” you settled for, your voice coming out raspy and probably revealing what you were hiding. He chuckled, and you knew he knew what you just said was a lie, so you sighed. “I’m feeling a lot better, but my throat still hurts and my body aches. It’s probably just a cold.” You mumbled the last part against his chest, a subtle way of saying: there’s no need to worry this much.

He nodded, which you knew because you felt his head moving above yours. “Probably. Please, take some medicine so you can feel better faster.”

You did as he asked, taking the pill he was offering you and drinking from the water bottle he had uncapped and handed to you. You smiled at him in thanks, after wincing from the bitter taste of the pill.

“Sorry for ruining or movie date.” Your eyes were sad and he knew you were sincerely sorry. A pout formed on your lips as you thought of when you would be able to have the next one, knowing it’d be difficult to plan out given that the comeback was so close.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby,” he said, equally as sincere. “It’s not your fault you got sick, and I don’t mind taking care of you — I really like it, actually. Plus, I got to watch the movies while watching you sleep, so… I really don’t mind. I just want you to be okay so we can have more movie dates.”

You blushed at his words, feeling soft and just wanting to kiss him — you both knew you should not do that, for he couldn’t get sick now because he had a lot of presentations and performances to do. You pouted.

“This is so unfair, I want to kiss you so badly,” you complained, and he laughed, kissing your cheek.

“I know, baby, me too. So, take your medicine so I can get all the kisses you owe me.”

[chaoticbardlady99]

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader) Part 5, MDNI 18+

Synopsis: Finally out of the Underdark, the group takes a rest day. You and Astarion go swimming. Astarion shows you his scars. "No shoes, no shirt, no service" ends up working out pretty well for you.

CW: SMUT, virginity loss (not glorified), PiV, Oral (F! Receiving), Dead Dove

*can be read independently

Author Note: Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all the love and support!

Part 4: Part 6 : Master list

 You could not be more grateful to be out of the Underdark and away from Minotaurs or to have a true rest day. 

On the other hand, you are borderline loopy if you are being entirely honest with yourself. Your entire body feels excruciatingly heavy and you kind of just want to sleep. 

 It’s been a really long and difficult trip. You are over it- mostly because you really don’t want to go to the crèche. Shadowheart and Lae’zel have been like two toddlers throwing tantrums back and forth regarding the whole thing and at one point you lost your marbles.

“You!” You pointed at Shadowheart, “STOP BEING A RACIST JACKASS!

 You turned to Lae’zel, “AND YOU! Stop threatening her with a good time!”

 You and Astarion went on the hunt for Blackberries. It was initially just you going, but he asked if he could go with. He was rather shy about the whole thing and you are still trying to figure out what his feelings towards you are- which is also very confusing and tiring.

  A hand wraps around your bicep, interrupting your thoughts, and Astarion just barely pulls you before you walk off a larger rock and go tumbling to the ground.

 The only one who has taken any real notice in your emotional distress is Astarion, but you don’t know he realizes that and that he is very hyper aware of your needs and potential stressors. It’s part survival technique and also part absolute obsession with how wonderful you are. He feels like a giddy school boy and it’s weird. 

“Darling,” he scolds you, “why didn’t you say you were dangerously tired?”

“I’m fine,” you fib, not wanting to inconvenience him with worry.. 

 Astarion rolls his eyes and takes his bow and arrow off his back. He straps them to you before guiding you up a rock. 

“Well?” He asks with a shrug.

 It takes you a moment and you blush extremely hard. You can’t keep doing this to yourself- it’s getting pathetic. 

“I am fine, really, I -“

“Says the person who damn near walked straight off the cliff,” he chastises you again, “besides, I drank our last elixir of giant hill strength so I might as well put it to use.”

 You eventually agree and you are grateful that he carries you on his back with ease. You wear mostly light armor- preferring to be able to move swiftly to support healing your companions or fellow selunite’s. 

 Astarion smells like his cologne with a hint of salt. You can hear his barely existing pulse thrumming through his skin. Sometimes it’s odd to realize your blood is what runs through his veins right now. 

 It feels oddly intimate and dare you say… special? 

 You had woken up this morning to a very frustrated Astarion. He had reported that his hunt didn’t go well so you offered your neck. 

  Astarion hasn’t fed from you in a while so when his teeth broke skin- he had to be very mindful of his every action. You, on the other hand, were fighting off the faint moans that you refuse to let escape your lips while he feeds.

 You have no desire to sexualize him- it’s the intimacy of the act itself. Nothing more, nothing less. You haven’t been touched in a while and you haven’t touched someone in a while- not in that way anyway.

 Your hands had tangled in his hair and you were about to let him bleed you dry. He thankfully had enough restraint for both of you. 

 You thought everything was black and white- unrequited love at its finest. 

 The kiss is confusing and you keep trying to convince yourself it’s merely because he was caught up in the heat of the moment or you imagined it. The proximity isn’t helping and all you want is to do it again.

“Star?” You murmur.

 Astarion perks his ears up, “hm?” 

 “I need a nap.”

 He rolls his eyes and smiles, “well, maybe someone wouldn’t be so sleepy if someone asked for help every once in a while.”

 “I-I… ask for help,” your voice going from indignant to a grumble. 

 “You are disgustingly selfless,” he remarks, “you should do something for yourself for once.”

 “Like what!?” You exclaim, “should I try mushrooms again? Is this what you are suggesting?”

“Absolutely not,” he tsks, “I prefer when there is a smile on that lovely face of yours and I saw far more of your frown than your smile during that whole debacAle.” 

 You are so grateful he can’t see you blush like a schoolgirl right now. You wouldn’t be able to explain yourself. 

 You look around in the environment and try to come up with something fun you can do to fill your cup- which, surprisingly enough- you do so rather quickly. 

“What if we went to that waterfall?” You offer, “the water was clear and the area was cool. It would be a great way to cool off.”

“You mean the water down the insanely large cliff?” 

  You nod and are suddenly being put down- Astarion puts both hands on his hips and leers at you- then shrugs.

“Fine, but no falling or drowning- please. I don’t need oxygen, but I have no idea if I can swim or not. “

 Your original excitement wanes and turns into a different kind of excitement entirely. You cast Feather Fall and are quickly leaping over the side of the cliff- you love your silly flying magic- both flying and feather fall. You are one of the few clerics you know that actually knows how to cast fly, but you typically prefer to use a potion to avoid having to concentrate on it. You have fallen a few times before because you forgot to keep focusing. 

 Before you know it, you have dragged him towards the shallow part of the pool of water below the waterfall. Astarion looks like he may be sick, but you are certain you can teach him how to swim if he doesn’t know how to. 

 However, what you didn’t think about was the lack of swimwear. 

 It can’t possibly be that big of a deal. You are both perfectly mature adults and it’s not like seeing your friend in his underwear is that weird.

 Sure he kissed you, but he hasn’t said anything else since or tried again. It was probably an accident- even after everything he said. You know he isn’t someone to shy away from what he wants.

Besides, you try to see this as a positive rather than the excruciating negative it actually is, he isn’t even attracted to you so you don’t even have to worry about how you look! Your hair can get as mussy as it needs to be!

 You begin to get rid of your armor and Astarion almost seems to get taller suddenly- you look over and raise an eyebrow at the obviously shell shocked man.

“What? You can’t swim in your armor- you would be stuck at the bottom,” you exclaim as if the man in front of you is gawking because you are using common logic, “and I would drown- which I certainly do not want to do.”

 He blinks several times- almost too fast to be human, if you are being entirely honest with yourself, before he snaps out of it and puts on his usual confident smirk.

“I am glad we can agree on something for once,” he teases, you don’t notice the amount of effort he is putting in to not looking further from your face, “but if you wouldn’t mind turning around while I strip into my un-“

“Oh! Duh!” You feel wildly embarrassed, “I am so sorry- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Gods I didn’t even think about that before I began- I will do better next time.”

 Flustered, you turn around and slowly submerge yourself in the water to get used to the coolness of it. It’s significantly colder than the water near Emerald Grove and you really miss it. You really liked the weird harpy beach (after the Harpy’s were removed) and the sand had been soft. 

 Maybe you should travel back some time. You are certain Karlach would be absolutely thrilled to go back after her and Wyll had their “epic cannonball” competition. Gale had cast feather fall, but it still didn’t stop the belly flop Wyll performed to hurt any less.

 That was a fun day, you think to yourself, I wish Astarion had been there, but still. I think these are the first people I feel like I belong around. 

 You smile to yourself and take a deep breath. 

 You are very proud of yourself for stepping up- you feel eons away from the person who woke up on the Nautiloid and significantly more confident in yourself. 

 You are a smart, funny, and charming individual. You are someone worthy of love and you are grateful to have boat loads of it now. 

  The water splashes from behind you and you wait for several moments. You begin to feel a bit worried when there is some silence and then teeth chattering begins. 

 You turn and Astarion is hugging himself- leering at you with his lips set in a pout.

“It is MISERABLE IN HERE!” 

 You giggle and cast a warming cantrip that Gale taught you. The water becomes significantly more comfortable, but Astarion still groans and complains. 

“What if I just watched you swim?”

 “That would be weird, Astarion.”

“Is it?” He questions, “mothers and fathers watch their children swim and don’t join them all the time- if my memory serves me correctly.”

“Are you saying you’re my mom?” You snort and relish in the way his entire face turns pink- his ears especially.

“I- NO!” You have never seen him this flabbergasted before, “I have no desire to be your mother.” 

“Oh, so you are my dad then?”

“Ye- NO!” 

 You throw your head back with mirth and laughter. It’s fun on the rare occasion that you catch him off guard first. Astarion is usually making you trip through sentences. 

You wipe away your tears and your face hurts from smiling. You feel like your face may split in half when you look at his face. He looks equally as happy and he is still embarrassed- it makes him look softer and he blinks very slowly. 

 His lips… look… so… kissable!!!!

Swimming! You scream at yourself, you came to teach him how to swim, not imagine making out with him!

 “Alright,” you submerge yourself until you are neck deep, turning to face him, “I believe in you peepaw!”

 Astarion glares at you and you give him a shit eating grin.

“I am going to fucking kill you,” he yells over the waterfall.

“PROMISE!?” 

 Astarion rolls his eyes at you before nervously looking down as he watches the rest of his upper torso disappear. Another drool worthy aspect of him that you, begrudgingly, will never get to see outside of this capacity again.

 Shadowheart saw him in that capacity. 

 It’s almost enough to derail you and want to run back to camp.

Almost.

  Where you are up to your neck, Astarion still has quite a lot water clearance. 

“Look at that!” You wipe away a fake tear, “they get older and older everyday.”

“Oh will you knock it off with that already!”

 Astarion splashes you in the face and you sputter- spitting the water that got into your mouth out. 

“EEWWWWWW!”

“HAH!” 

 It takes a few more childish splashes before you eventually get to the initial matter at hand. However, you didn’t anticipate it taking thirty minutes to convince him to even doggy paddle.

“Maybe Scratch would be a better swim teacher,” you scratch the back of your head, “maybe he would demonstrate better.”

 Astarion is tight lipped and you have noticed that he refuses to turn around in front of you or allow you to get behind him. 

 Does he have some kind of nasty mole or something?

 No, you shake your head, it’s not your place to ask. 

 “What if we tried a backstroke?” 

 Astarion takes to that very quickly-  becoming faster than you even. 

 Everything is going “swimmingly” (Astarion splashed you again for that one) and you are pretty bummed that you have to leave. You are getting tired and your stomach is growling so loudly he can hear it.

 “Wait,” Astarion pulls you back before you get out of the water- it is now just below your shoulders while Astarion almost has his entire torso above water.

 Don’t look. Don’t stare. Don’t look. Don’t stare.

“Yes, Star?”

 A ghost of a smile flickers on his face, “I- I want to show you something.”

 You are a bit confused, but nod anyway. Astarion grabs your hand this time- a shock to your system- and pulls you out while looking at both of your hands. He refuses to look your way and he seems to struggle with letting go. 

 He closes his eyes with a shaking breathe and turns around, his fists are in tight balls and you are beginning to worry there may be a creature that wishes to consume you coming out of his back at this rate.

 Thankfully, the situation isn’t that dire, but you still take a sharp breath. 

 You can see why he didn’t want to turn around earlier. The scars are so precise and deep- it looks horribly painful. You cannot imagine how long it took for this to occur- considering he has vampiric healing. 

 The skin has been healed over a thousand times, but your heart feels broken when you think about how many people have taken advantage of his situation and never stopped to ask how they could help. Those who dug their nails into his back or found beauty in his scars- only wanting to enjoy his body and chase their own pleasure.

 You aren’t sure what you should do. You want to touch them and soothe every emotional and physical wound- even the ghosts of them- but you aren’t sure that would be accepted considering the nature of the scars. You want to tell him you think the world of him- that you love him and nothing could ever change that. Hells- you would kill Cazador tomorrow if you could- but you don’t think that would help either.

 You have never felt this angry in your whole life.

“A gift,” he says solemnly before his voice is flooded with venom and embarrassment, “from Cazador.

“He composed it over the span of a night,” his shoulders slump, “he made many revisions as he went.” 

 You recognize the language and it makes your stomach turn. 

 This soul swears no oath by fire 

Nor words does he speak

In the realm of death

“Do you know what it is supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I have never seen it. A poem or something like that.”

 A poem? That isn’t right. It’s poetic, but it seems more of a contract or curse.

 You shake your head, “this is Infernal and while it reads like a poem- it’s certainly not a poem.”

“What!?” He turns around and looks at you with panic, “infernal?” 

  This leads to drawing the design out of the dirt on the beach.

“What in the hells did he do to me?” 

 Astarion’s fear and horror soaks into your bones. You look down at the looping design. 

 It makes your own skin crawl and the message itself worries you deeply. It makes you worry that Astarion will never ever be free, but it wouldn’t make sense. This is a devil’s contract- you aren’t sure people can use those to bind themselves to someone.

“Karlach and Wyll may-“

“No,” he interrupts, “let’s keep this between us for now.”  

 You erase the evidence quickly and you are admittedly a bit surprised by the statement. 

“Doesn’t Shadowheart know? She may-“

“Shadowheart hasn’t seen them.” 

“I think she- wait really?”

“Yes.”

“But you-“

“Barely- neither party was enjoying themselves.” 

 Oh.

 Your perplexed mind must be showing on your face because Astarion smirks at you with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh please- I may be a worthless elven whore, but I-“

“Do not say that,” you cross your arms and Astarion’s sentence stops in it’s tracks, “you are not ‘worthless’ and you are not a ‘whore’ either. Even if you were- of your own volition- there is nothing wrong with that. Sex work is a very valid form of work and as long as you are happy, I will be more than happy for you.

“However, that is not the reality of the situation.” You feel your frown settling further into your face, “what happened to you is cruel and horrific. No one deserves to be treated that way- especially not you- and I can assure you that the Priestess and I are going to have serious words about including vampire spawn and helping them when I return to the temple! I am embarrassed on the behalf of the entire damn clergy.” 

 Astarion’s eyes soften significantly with a bit of warmth and humor. He also looks authentically surprised by your passion regarding the subject. He nods and turns away- continuing to get dressed and you do the same. 

 You aren’t necessarily thrilled with yourself because you neglected to think about what you are going to wear to sleep. You have a few pairs of camp clothes, but now they are soaked adjacent and you still technically have a tent mate. 

 Unless he decides that this is all too much? It feels like there has been a lot more emotionally intimate moments between both of you and you worry from time to time. It helps that you don’t have the pressure of a romantic bond, but you don’t want to make him feel trapped. 

  You walk back in silence- stretching and yawning as you go. 

 There is so much to do tomorrow. Laundry- big time. Probably need to try to secure more food before we cross the border… at this rate, we never know when the next time to restock will be.

 Ugh- especially with the Shadow Cursed Lands. We probably need to secure more blood for Astarion too. Oh and finding a way to store it so it doesn’t become disgusting. Maybe a few Restoration scrolls. I know I will be the primary source of food for him. 

 “You are thinking awfully hard over there, Darling.”

“I am just thinking about my chores.”

“Chores?

“Well, for one, I need to wash my clothes. I didn’t think about that before we went swimming. I am also trying to figure out the food situation- we are going to need to figure out how to store blood for you and try to collect as much food as we can before entering the Shadow Cursed Lands. I want to begin preparing for that now so we don’t run into trouble later. Hungry bellies and life threatening circumstances never end well.”

“Y-you don’t need to worry about me, Darling,” he stammers, “I am sure I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, but I want to help. It will stress me the hells out if I know we don’t have something for you to eat or at least several potions so I can recover because you starving is not an option!” You exclaim, “and could you imagine Shadowheart and Lae’zel interacting while hangry? I like living, thank you very much.” 

 Astarion snorts and shakes his head, “I don’t know- I think it would make for a rather fun evening. My money would be on Lae’zel.”

“Really?” You are genuinely surprised, “my money would be on Shadowheart only because Karlach may get involved. Otherwise- Lae’zel all the way.”

“What if we made them ‘hangry’ on purpose,” Astarion offers, “we could see exactly how the situation goes? For research purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” you say, “just for research…”

 The two of you hatch a plan- the next day, you will refuse to take breaks and Astarion will throw a fit if you try. This means the two women won’t be allowed to snack throughout the day and Gale always takes forever to cook. 

 At some point, Astarion intertwined his fingers with yours and you notice, but you just hold on tightly. You really don’t want him to let go and it feels natural. You don’t notice the way he is looking at you or how he has to pay extra attention to the environment while he listens because he has almost tripped a couple times. 

 The walk home is calm and peaceful. You chatter back and forth about the various theories you have regarding Gith culture and the oddness of the crèche.

  Once you finally get back to camp- you practically skip to your tent to get out of your wet clothing. 

 It’s not until after that you realize you have made quite the error by getting caught up in your to-do list without informing Astarion that you don’t necessarily have clothes- your laundry situation is far more dire than you mentioned- and he may want to sleep in his own tent tonight. Your laundry didn’t just magically do itself in the last 10 minutes.

 You groan- thankful you have at least found a pair of underwear that are clean, but what are you supposed to do about a top? You also can’t go out to the campfire exposed. 

 “Darling- I think I may have left my-“ he coughs suddenly, “shirt.”

 Your arms cover your chest by instinct although you are turned around. 

“Oh- uh- ya um probably over there,” you sound even more awkward than you feel, “I am probably going to spend time here for the rest of the night. Didn’t really think about the laundry situation.

“I suppose that means I will see you tomorrow-“

 As if on cue- a shirt is pulled over the top of your head and you naturally put your arms through the holes. He spins you around with his delicate fingers leaving the ghost of his presence along your hips.  

  Blood is rushing through your ears. You feel far too warm and you just try to focus on the floor as he ties the laces up the front of his shirt. 

“There,” his voice is thick with an emotion you don’t know, “I suppose we are both stuck in here then. No shirt, no pants, no service, or whatever nonsense. It’s never stopped me though, but I can imagine you are no more ready to die than I am.” 

“What do you mean?”

 Astarion looks at you with a roll of his eyes and takes off his cloak.

“Oh please.”

“What!?” 

  Astarion guffaws at you, “Gale would explode if he had the opportunity to see you without any pants. It would be instantaneous.”

 Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. That’s nonsense and absolutely silly.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” you huff, walking to your pack to get your brush, “I think it would be more so him dying of shock that I have skin to show.” 

  More silence as you brush your hair- styling it the way you prefer and praying to Selune that it dries correctly. Also that you don’t fall asleep so prematurely that it dries weirdly. 

 You are distracted though. You very much like how you look in Astarion’s shirt and it is very nice of him to be lending it to you. 

“I’ll make sure to wash your shirt with my laund-“

“I would prefer you didn’t,” he muses, “I rather like it when my clothing smells like you in your natural state, Darling.”

 You run straight into him as you turn around in your confusion, his fingers tilting your chin up until your eyes meet his.

 Ruby eyes send a massive infernal wave through you- this is how you imagine Karlach feels after consuming a soul coin. 

 You burn for him- whether he lights you on fire or sends electricity through your body. Only, you feel powerful in the way he looks at you. 

 It’s a somewhat possessive look, but not in the way you would have anticipated. It’s lustful and wanting, protective and gentle, heartbreak and hopefulness. Maybe even a bit of a fear. 

“Would you be with Gale like this if he asked?” 

 You shake your head wordlessly. Your cheeks are flushed, your heart is thumping erratically against your chest, and blood is rushing in your ears. Your entire body is quivering in anticipation.

 Astarion pulls you to him, his hands lightly on your ass. You can feel his finger curling- wishing to leave fingerprint bruises on your hips and thighs. You want him to so terribly it hurts.

“And Wyll?”

“No,” you say breathlessly. 

“Halsin?”

“Not without you.”

 He stops and chuckles darkly, “don’t threaten me with a good time, Lover.”

 You try to hold still as he kisses along the curve of your jaw- his other hand has become tangled in your hair. You want him to feel in control and to feel like he can stop if needed.

“What about the others?” 

 Gods- you can hardly believe he is serious right now.

“I only want you, Astarion.”

  This is not a confession you wanted to share ever again, but it’s out there now and you suppose it’s better to get your second rejection over with now than later. He’s probably just teasing anyway. 

 Only, it never comes- in fact- his fingers only seem to become more fidgety as they glide across your skin, sending shockwaves to your core. 

 You are in a trance and his grin is beautiful. Astarion is certainly a predator and you have quickly turned into helpless prey. You are right in his trap. 

 The whole world seems to just… stop. Your heart beat is thundering in your chest and blood roars through your ears. You wonder if he feels this way too- is this a universal experience or one sided? 

 His fingers travel along the curves of your face as if he is painting you, but his eyes are intense- it almost feels like he is trying to memorize you and your features. 

 Your breath hitches when his thumb swipes across your bottom lips, parting them ever so slightly. 

 You allow your eyes to meet his, and you have never wanted to be kissed more in your entire life. Something in the way he looks at you tells you that he feels the same. 

 It’s a silent consent- he watches your every move as he leans in and your eyes flutter shut the closer he gets to you. 

 The anticipation is killing you and you try to contain your huff of frustration, but you are desperate. This feels like a dream. 

 Astarion’s lips send shockwaves through you when he finally makes contact. 

 Every movement is slow and tender- your face is still cradled in his hands, but you aren’t sure where to put yours. Astarion seems to read your mind and his hands travel south, gently guiding your hands to rest on his chest before returning to your face. 

 You have kissed people before, but not a single soul could hold a candle to Astarion. Not that they could anyway, but this is just… incredible. 

 His lips like honey and wine are dizzying, you feel like a delicate work of art in his hands, and his skin feels like porcelain underneath your fingertips. 

 Astarion guides you to the ground, your hips straddling his, and one of his hands tangles itself in your hair, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other remains firmly on your hip and you feel exhilarated by the idea of the fingerprint bruises that are certain to be left behind. 

 One of your arms is propped up next to his head- helping you keep balance so you don’t fall on top of him by accident. The other slides in between both of you and rubs along the outline of his cock- you swipe your tongue along his lower lip when he moans, taking advantage of the temporary dominance. 

 It’s short lived- he pulls you back by your hair and you have to put your hands on his chest to keep from embarrassing yourself. The last thing you want is to topple over on accident and have the, “yeah so I have a dirty V-Card and haven’t gone all the way, but it’s no biggie! I am sure this whole position thing will make sense eventually!” Because that seems to just scare off men. 

 The hand that had been gripping your hair is now paying an artfully close amount of attention to your clothed clit, pushing away the fabric, and one finger slides inside you with ease. 

 You bite your lip so hard you draw blood and you basically growl- you don’t want to alert the entire camp to your activities. This is meant to be a private moment and yet, you could not be more embarrassed.

“I-“ you are blushing red, his finger still moving slowly inside you, “I’m- sor- just wanted-“

 Astarion has you on your back- sucking, nipping, and lapping at the blood on your lower lip. He reinserts his lithe finger inside of you- his thumb taking it’s sweet time to hit every single nerve followed by a second finger that makes you briefly see stars.

“I don’t want to hear you ever apologize to me over something like that- it’s a noise I would rather like to hear from you again,” he nips your lower lip and you groan, “you are absolutely divine.” 

 You are a moaning mess against his doll like lips and your core is tightening so much it’s bittersweet. You want your release so terribly and you are lost in the way his fingers feel inside of you. Astarion curls and scissors his fingers- eventually adding a third that makes your toes curl in pleasure.

 He begins to make his descent down your body- kissing along the vein in your throat and along your collarbones. 

 Every inch of your skin is littered in kisses or has been love bitten by the time his cold tongue circles your sensitive clit. His fingers continue their rhythm- occasionally changing speeds to either tease or ruin you. His other hand is holding your hips down- your thighs are holding his head in place and you have no idea how much he is enjoying being buried between your legs. 

 He really, really made a mistake going with Shadowheart. You are incredible- exceptional even. The way you are fighting to keep your moans quiet as the camp begins to stir to life makes his cock twitch painfully against the already strained clothing. It doesn’t seem to matter how much friction he provides himself with- all he can think about is being inside you, filling you to the brim, taking you and making you his once and for all. 

 When you finally have the wherewithal to look at him- you are taken away with the way he looks at you. It’s the same way a priest looks talking about his God. 

 You guide his face back up to yours by weakly grabbing his hair- evidently your mind is in the same space and wanting to feel entirely consumed by him. You bite his lower lip and the growl he releases tips you over the edge- stars explode behind your eyes and you feel the rush of bliss numb your entire body. 

 A low pitched whine leaves your throat when he removes his fingers. He chuckles, but you feel so incredibly empty. It feels wrong. You are desperate to know him in every way, if he wants that.

 His eyes are still blown with lust, but you can see the adoration for you that Karlach so often talks about. You are smiling like a schoolgirl as he slots himself between your legs and begins to kiss you again. 

 Astarion’s cock is hard against the inside of your thigh and your breath hitches- the implication of the next act suddenly hitting you. 

 It’s happening and with someone you care about. Only, it makes you freeze, because it’s happening and it’s with someone you care about. 

“Is everything alright, Darling?”

 Astarion is looking at you with concern and you are quick to assuage him- gently guiding his face down to yours and kissing him deeply.

“I haven’t quite- reached this step yet- if that makes sense, but I PROMISE I WANT TO,” you are trying to save it before it crashes and dies on the floor, “if you want to- that is. 

 Astarion looks a bit surprised- maybe even a little shell shocked. What do you mean you haven’t quite gotten to this step? Are you trying to tell him you are a virgin?

 It makes sense, but a part of him is worried he may be opening the proverbial Pandora’s box and you will only want him for sex now. 

 But this is you and… he can trust you. He can enjoy you. He can indulge safely.

“I very much want to,” his voice is low and thick with lust, “I want you so terribly it hurts.” 

 The act is far more beautiful than you could have ever expected- it feels like putting together two pieces of the same beautiful vase as if it wasn’t fixed or reunited until this exact moment. 

 His movements are slow and careful- he takes his time to ready you completely. Astarion kisses your whimpering lips and his hands are intertwined with yours. 

 It’s odd for him to be entirely in control, but he also loves every second of it. He loves how consumed with you he is.

 Astarion’s eyes are boring into yours with every movement of his hips and every time you blink- he is still watching you with hooded, lustful eyes.

 His own eyelashes flutter and Astarion’s eyes are fighting not to roll back- he wants to see every single second. Astarion wants to enjoy every moment of you.

 You are technically his first too- to an extent. You are the first person he feels something for and wants to be with. 

 Your pulse thrums through his cock and his chest- it’s intoxicating and enduring. You are so real- so undeniably wonderfully alive and it allows him, even if for a moment, to feel like he is alive too.

 You mewl against his mouth, you weren’t expecting so much pinching at the start, but you found it went away quickly- your arms are now wrapped around his neck and he rocks inside of you with a slightly faster pace. His lips coax even more sighs and gasps- his own becoming intermingled as you continue to indulge in one another. 

 You feel utterly full- disgustingly, beautifully, perfectly full. You are on cloud 9 or you may have died and gone to heaven. 

 This feels right- exactly what you had been waiting for. 

 Astarion is experiencing the same emotions- he can barely keep his composure as you kiss him. The mewls and keens that leave your lips are some of the most melodic sounds he has ever heard and you are all his. 

 You feel perfect- he likes the feelings of your hands on him, even if it’s still a complicated feeling. 

 Sex has never felt sacred or safe- he has never been able to forget himself in a way that wasn’t dissociative and here he is, entirely lost in the moment.

 Entirely lost in you.

 He is gasping and sighing shamelessly into your ear with each thrust of his hips. Astarion is fighting to keep is release at bay and it’s a lot harder than he thought it would be. It usually isn’t, but you are a lovely wonderful treat. 

“A-Astarion,” you murmur his name like a prayer with every moan, as if he isn’t the one worshiping you right now. 

 Your heels are digging into his back and your heart beat is erratic. He kisses and nips your neck- struggling with his self control. You smell incredible. 

 When he goes to move away from your neck- one of your hands holds his head in place and he growls in response. Astarion means it more of a warning than anything else- he will end up biting you if you keep him here any longer. You are far, far too tempting.

 You seem to read his mind.

“I-you can- if you want,” 

 It happens so fast, neither one of you really expects it when he sinks his teeth into your neck- his body responds for him and begins to thrust into you erratically. Astarion has both of your hands pinned above your head again and you- in all your inexperience- are trusting him.

 The sounds that leave his mouth as he feeds and ruts inside you are animalistic and oddly enduring- your adrenaline and lust flows through your body. 

 Astarion’s mouth begins to feel warmer as you grow colder and his movements seem almost even more fast and distant with each second he takes from you, but you find you don’t mind. You should, but you don’t. 

 Your cries are guttural, hushed, and filled with pleasure- your legs are shaking around his waist and he can feel your life essence getting weaker and weaker. 

 It is becoming harder and harder to move away with each gulp of blood he takes, but he knows he needs to stop before he kills you on accident. 

 It feels physically painful to do so- not even necessarily because he is hungry, but because it made him feel truly connected to you on every single level. Astarion has never been given the pleasure of doing that before. 

“You,” he kisses all over your face as you look up at him lazily, “are so lovely and you have been exceptionally good for me, my Dear.”

 Astarion rolls so you are on top of him again- he knows you need a second to recover and he thinks you may rather enjoy this. 

 He props you up with his core and legs- using his hand to help himself get back inside you while you weakly keep yourself upright. You are a blissed out, wanting, whimpering mess when you finally are sinking back down on him and your hands are on either side of his head.

 Your eyes are blown wide with lust, blood drips down your throat and down your chest, and Astarion wants to remember this moment forever. You look euphoric and your eyes are glossed over from the haze of blood loss and pleasure. 

  Astarion moves his core up and done- thrusting up into you while one of his hands keeps you from moving and the other is tangled in your hair. He wants to see you orgasm- he wants to watch your face when bliss takes you again. 

 It’s beautiful when it does. 

 Your face is peaceful with pleasure, but your eyes are filled with adoration for him, not just lust and hunger-sated. 

 There is no boredom or false infatuation. No Cazador or  looming death right now- just the two of you in your little sanctuary together. 

 A mixture of your rush and his seed coats his navel and it may be the most delicious feeling in the whole world. The sound of your bodies is positively filthy and he is thankful you are still caught up in your haze because there is no way no one didn’t hear the events that have transpired in your tent.

 He pulls you down to his chest, your legs are shaking around his waist and he’s slightly worried he may have done too much for your first time. However, you are lazily kissing his cheek and along his jaw so you certainly don’t seem displeased.

 “Thank you,” you whisper, “this is what I envisioned my first time being like.”

“What do you mean?” He whispers back, unsure of why that is. Did you envision being with someone experienced? Beautiful? Easy to manipulate into sex?

“Being with someone I care about,” you lay your head on his chest and yawn, “with someone I consider my closest and most favorite companion. My friend and…”

 It surprises him immensely and he honestly has no idea how to express his gratefulness, but he is able to respond in a somewhat normal way.

“One and Only Lover?” He offers flirtatiously, “exceptionally charming Vampire? Your deviously handsome rogue?” 

 You sit up weakly, rolling your eyes and place a kiss on his chin before curling back up.

“All of the above.”

“Thank the Gods- I was worried I was going to have to kill Wyll after all.”

 You snort and just shake your head. Your breathing evens out and his hands are playing with your hair- as is the normal routine. 

 The normal routine. 

 Astarion’s smile is massive- he feels happy tears begin to stream down his face and he wipes them away with his free hand. 

 This is his new normal- having sex with you, a person he wants to be with, and cuddling afterwards. He even gets to drink from you.   And he already can’t wait to be with you in such an intimate way again.

Tag list: @preciouslittlebhaalbae @xxgrimripp3rxx @alice4wonderland2812 @therobishow @m1ster1e @tragicdruid @katsutoria @aristenfromwarsaw @avabjorna36 @frankie-mercury @golden-baby

[achromatophoric]

Pre-Wenclair. Wednesday approaches Enid between classes.

Wednesday: Enid, are you perhaps the bubonic plague?

Enid: Whuh?

Wednesday: Because you make me feel absolutely wretched inside.

Enid: Wh-What?

Wednesday: Was I not clear? The sight of you incites chills. Your very presence fogs my mind and lingers like chronic pain.

Enid: 😦

Wednesday: Fever. Malaise. Gastrointestinal disturbances. Symptoms often associated with the flu. Simply put, you make me sick.

Enid: I-I— I’m sorry?

Wednesday: You should be. It is all terribly inconvenient. And worst yet, your infliction hounds me even in sleep.

Enid: 😧

Wednesday: Because of your virulent existence, I awaken each morning to a nauseating mess. Like discharge from a ruptured bubo of the plague’s etymological origin.

Enid: O-Oh god. I— how could—

Enid: *sobbing*

Enid: I-I have to go. I’msosorry!!

Enid: *runs away in tears*

Wednesday: *confused*

Yoko: *steps out of hiding* WHAT the EVER loving FUCK was THAT?!

Wednesday: I was merely following your advice.

Yoko: By equating our sweet and lovable Enid with a fucking PLAGUE!?

Wednesday: Yes. Your explicit instructions were to tell her how she makes me feel.

Yoko: Well, yes! But not— I meant in a nice way.

Wednesday: I do not do ‘nice.’

Yoko: Sweet baby Tepes— Fine. Then how about the sexy innuendo? I did NOT hear a sexy innuendo.

Wednesday: *offended* Are you as deaf as you are dumb? I both opened and closed with innuendos of a sexual nature.

Yoko:

Yoko: How are the Black Death and a fucking popped boil innuendos?! AND HOW ARE THEY SEXY!?

Wednesday: I very specifically said ‘bubonic’ plague, not the Black Death. And while both are certainly filled with pus, a ‘bubo’ is a swollen lymph node, not some common boil.

Yoko: 🤢

Wednesday: *sighs* I should not be surprised. For your information, both bubonic and bubo are derived from the Greek βουβών, meaning ‘groin.’

Yoko: *processing*

Wednesday: *waits*

Yoko: Uh— hang on, lemme get this gay. You asked if she was a GROIN plague?

Wednesday: Correct.

Yoko: And that you were so down bad infected that you dream about her?

Wednesday: Of course.

Yoko: And in the mornings, you— OOOooohhHH! *smacks forehead*

Yoko: Mess. Bubo equals groin. So you have…?

Wednesday: *faint blush* Nocturnal emissions.

Yoko: 🤨

Yoko: 🤔

Yoko: 🧐

Yoko: Okay Addams, you get an A plus on intent, but we’re definitely gonna have to work on execution. Got anything else?

Wednesday: The propensity with which she invades my thoughts is not dissimilar from naegleria fowler, or perhaps the cystic stage of trichinosis spiralis…

[flyingwargle]

july fanfic recommendations!

i read an obscene amount of fanfic last month with some that i must share with others, hence this post. i still over >100 fics to read so maybe this will be a monthly series? we'll see.

some fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

rotten work & other things worth doing t. 3k. atsumu and sakusa clean atsumu's bathroom together. that's it, that's the fic. lots of hurt/comfort and love and affection <3

The Sakusa Complaint Jar t. 3.6k. hilarious take on the swear jar, especially as atsumu learns he's more down bad for sakusa than he thought.

Appease and Assuage t. 5.1k. sakusa has a bad day and atsumu is there for him. very soft and raw with sakusa feeling off-kilter, and atsumu knows exactly how to help him.

come, morning light g. 5.2k. sakusa gets sick and tries to push atsumu away but eventually lets him in. very soft and domestic.

Here Is Your Verse m. 15.52. 2/2. atsumu ends his fwb relationship with sakusa because he caught feelings. they end up reconciling in the end.

when you hear hoofbeats t. 42.4k. 14/14. university au slowburn where sakusa has eds and he gets into a relationship with atsumu. be aware of the chapter warnings because it gets heavy but has a happy ending!

Stockholm Syndrome Isn't Real e. 50.2k 8/8. side sunaosa(komo). au where atsumu is a pro athlete but osamu is secretly a hacker and atsumu is kidnapped in his place. love the action, tension, and everything about this.

sunaosa

slip of the pen t. 6k. suna channels all his pining into award-winning books and osamu has never read any of them. the pining is top-tier in this.

moonsick m. 7.8k. fwb to lovers in suna's pov. is it really a sunaosa fic without one of them being emotionally constipated?

in the mood for love m. 8.3k. friends to exes to friends to lovers pipeline. i love the prose and osamu's thoughtful narration.

Litany in Which Certain Words Are Said t. 10.9k. 5 times osamu says "i love you" and 1 time suna says it back. oohh the yearning in this is top-tier!

a type of hunger m. 9.1k. i love the exploration of suna's hunger in this as an athlete and feeling like he's falling behind. good thing osamu is there for him <3

An Inconvenient Espionage e. 26.6k. 5/5. side sakuatsu. spy au, assholes to lovers. good action, good spy work, good tension 👀

somewhere to lay the flowers t. 25.6k. i've read a healthy amount of bastigod's works and trans suna has me in a chokehold. i also love magical realism and the mythology in this was woven wonderfully. suna's daughter is also a delight!

iwaoi

stumble into the sun e. 3.6k words of iwaizumi discovering that oikawa has a praise kink. it's also very soft and lovely.

Press '1' to Get a Call From Your Drunk Best Friend t. 5.4k. a drunk iwaizumi spills about his love and appreciation for oikawa. it's hilarious and fluffy and one of my favorites <3

HIPS DON'T LIE e. 8.1k. iwaizumi overhears girls talk about how good oikawa is in bed and is given a live demonstration from the man, himself.

i wanna ruin our friendship t. 18/18. oikawa comes to terms that he's in love with his best friend. features heavy themes, read the chapter warnings before proceeding. there's a happy ending!

bokuaka

Tell Me, Eurydice (How Could I Not?) t. 6.3k. lovely prose from akaashi's perspective about bokuto becoming captain and the idea of akaashi being his vice captain.

hoot if you've heard this one before t. 5.2k. bokuto and akaashi lose contact and find each other in university at a cafe that akaashi owns. lovely reconciliation fic and relationship recovery.

papers (the special, laminated ones) t. 5.3k. bokuto's parents have a tradition of laminating all his special papers and he isn't allowed to get them until "he's ready." i loved how sweet and fluffy this was, especially with his relationship with akaashi <3

Spaces aren’t Voids 7.2k. bokuto had every intention to propose until he lost the ring. a very fun and fluffy fic of a marriage proposal that doesn't quite go through but things go well in the end.

To Have and to Rail e. 12.4k. this is more humor than smut about akaashi's scientific exploration to match bokuto's stamina in bed. it doesn't go as well as he hopes (of course. good luck, akaashi)

onigiri miya: brand ambassadors (applications closed) g. 4k. bokuto is kinda slightly jealous of how close akaashi is to osamu because he's obsessed with onigiri miya. hinata feels the same way with kageyama. so what do they do? become brand ambassadors for osamu. absolutely hilarious and fluffy!

Kiss Me (Like You Wanna Be Loved) e. 56.6k. 27/27. oh the pipeline of strangers to roommates to fwb to lovers, i love it so. equal parts hurt/comfort, fluff, with the perfect amount of nsfw.

kagehina

soft serve t. 9.6k. hinata and kageyama drive an ice cream truck to fundraise money for karasuno's volleyball club. that's it, that's the fic.

Meme of the Day g. 4k. kageyama accidentally turns hinata into a meme. very fluffy and cute!

miscellaneous

yachi hitoka stop being so relatable challenge t. 4.1k. i loved this exploration of yachi being known and getting closer with the karasuno boys. she's such a precious cinnamon roll <3

north is everywhere. t. 12.1k. an exploration of kiyoko's development through high school, from being a manager out of obligation to continuing out of choice. also ace rep!

summer rolling down a cheek gen. 13.2k. a beautiful character study of kenma after the spring tournament as he thinks about the future and what comes next. beautiful prose and introspection.

[babybatss-blog]

DOMESTICS

Sirius black x reader, 1100  words

summary: all you wanted to do was cook Sirius some chicken for dinner, but perhaps things don’t always go your way.

c/w: established relationship, alcohol consumption, swearing and crying, argument between Sirus and Reader. Practically just tame, basic relationship angst that turns into fluff :)

The classic casual Friday night is always a big step in any intimate relationship. Stepping out of uncomfortable outfits and delicate table foods into comfy hoodies and junky snacks creates a whole new level of intimacy with a partner, and can be quite nerve wracking for at least the first few instances. 

But you and Sirius are way past that.

On the first date, you stayed the night at his for two whole days. You met his best friends on that second day, and he met yours just four days later. James said you were funny, and Lily said Sirus was smitten. He admired your comfortableness with him while you appreciated his lack of care towards your groggy state every morning, and a week in you both shared your deepest traumas with each other. On some random Wednesday your parents turned up unannounced in your apartment, which is when he met them both shirtless and slightly hungover (though he concealed the latter expertly).

So, two months later it is entirely expected to have Sirius lounging on your couch, watching some Netflix overproduced action show and as you cook dinner. Usually he prefers taking control of the kitchen because he “likes to spoil his girls”, but he did not impose when you insisted it was your turn to give him some love. The kitchen smells like a variety of spices and mouth-watering flavours, and despite the simple dish you are preparing the kitchen looks like a professional chef is making a world-famous meal. Plates, pots and pans are spread around, ingredients spilled on any and all surfaces and your state decreased to completely dishevelled, huffing and puffing at every slight inconvenience to come your way. “This needs to be perfect for him.” You think, anxiously managing every element with not a moment to spare. Unbeknownst to you Sirus has now snuck over, and softly places his chiselled chin on your shoulder as you peer over the cooking meat.

“Looks raw.” He states nonchalantly, arms creeping around your waist. “I know. It’s not done yet.” You explain bluntly, words leaving your mouth slightly more harsh than you intended. But you don’t take them back, as your focus is entirely taken up by the meal in front of you.

Wait, I thought it was done? What’s it meant to look like if it is done? What does it taste like? What more does it need?

He soon releases you, walking away to the bathroom as he calls out. “Sorry for not wanting to be poisoned I guess!” You huff, opting to not fight back in fear of putting too much energy into something that doesn’t really matter in the scheme of things. You and Sirius are both painfully stubborn when you want to be, and are often laughed at by your friends for getting in ridiculous arguments. Once, you needed to go on a walk and clear your head after the two of you debated which Barbie movie is the best.

As he returns from the bathroom he subtly side eyes the chicken, seeing you have now placed it on a plate ready for serving. Against his better judgment, he calls out, in a half cough half word amalgamation which complains “still raw”. Would it be smart for you to reply? No, of course not! But do you do it anyway? Obviously!

“WELL WHY DON’T YOU COOK THEN MR PERFECT?!” You snap, eyes erratic and wide as you face him. He scoffs, hands placed on the kitchen counter opposite you.

“I’d be happy to, but you didn’t fucking let me!”

”Didn’t let you? I’m not your mother, I’m sorry I wanted to do something nice for you!”

“Well it isn’t nice if I’m too sick to go to work tomorrow!”

“Relax hard ass, you start work at three!” The argument quickly escalates past the point of reasonable, as Sirius’ arms flail widely about and the vegetables are left to burn in the oven.

In a closing statement you call Sirius a “spoilt brat” and he storms off, slamming the bedroom door behind him so he can no longer hear you if you try to apologise. Tears well in your eyes as you look around, realising what just happened truly as your brain finally processes. How can your worst argument be about some stupid chicken? You rush to repair the damage of your distractions to the meal, pulling the vegetables out of the oven as your salty tears fall within. You can barely see through your exaggerated sobs, mad at yourself for all manner of things.

Why did you let his simple comments go to your head? What if he’s right, and the meals a disaster? Will he despise you now for going so off the handle? Is this the last night of your fleeting romance?

You quietly serve up the food as these thoughts run through your head, wiping away gushing tears and snot as you go. Once it’s done, you tentatively go over to the closed door of the bedroom and knock a few times. You hear some shuffles, and the door is opened to reveal an unimpressed Sirus. “Sorry…” You mumble, eyes glued to the wooden floor between you. He pushes past you in silence, grabbing his plate and sitting down on the plush couch. As much as you would like to beg for forgiveness and list all the reasons you should stay together, you don’t deem that important when he pats the space next to him to sit down, handing you a sympathetic yet weak smile. “I know you didn’t mean it.” He finally gets out, eyes drilling into your still shy figure. “I just was trying to help.” “I know. But I didn’t want you to have to worry. I wanted to spoil you; you know?” His hand falls onto your thigh, the other placing the chicken in his hungry mouth. You join him in eating the meal, and reluctantly admit what you wished wasn’t true.

“It’s not fully cooked.” You pout, tears still glossing your eyes. He chuckles, placing his plate down and enveloping you in a hug. “That’s fine gorgeous. UberEats it is.” You pull back and quickly peck his lips, a smile forming on both your faces as you respond.

“Only if it’s Mexican.”

“Deal.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 22

part 1 | part 21 | ao3

“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.

He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.

Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!

“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must.”

She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”

“He said he ran out of laundry.”

“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”

Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”

“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”

“Because you did something to spook him!”

“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.

“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”

She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”

He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.

“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”

She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”

“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”

“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”

“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.

Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”

“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."

"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"

"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."

Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.

"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."

"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."

"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"

"Yeah, that's a no."

“It’ll be fun!"

It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.

"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."

"So ask a friend!"

"I am, dipshit!"

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.

She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"

"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."

"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.

"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."

She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."

—

part 23

tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。AKADEMIYA GOSSIP — ALHAITHAM.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 alhaitham’s attire elicits a response you’re not all too happy with through the akademiya

☽ contents ⋮ gn! reader, jealous! reader, mentions of girls taking an interest in alhaitham but reader is unspecified, you sit on his lap, sfw + fluff

☽ notes ⋮ you had jealous haitham. now have jealous you

personally, you think alhaitham needs to get rid of that awful skin tight top of his. it’s an outrage—it’s unfair, really, always serving as a distraction for you with his sculpted abs and defined pecs taunting you at the most improper of times.

but that’s not even the worst part—recently, there’s something much more concerning than the distraction of his (very well-maintained) physique.

“you know, i think they should consider giving you a work uniform for this position,” you mumble, and there’s a slight pout on your lips that makes alhaitham pause as you gesture at his attire, “this isn’t very appropriate for a high position such as grand sage.”

he raises a brow, putting his pen down.

“acting grand sage,” he corrects, “and are my fashion choices not up to your standards?”

“that’s not the problem,” you mumble, “your terrible eye for clothing is your problem, not mine.”

“well, that’s wonderful to hear. i wouldn’t want to inconvenience you with my lacking aesthetic,” he says sarcastically—because everything is always a quick witted reply with him, and you send a glare his way through a huff.

“the problem here is the way your clothes fit.”

this time, there’s a very visible and very deep pout on your face—if alhaitham wasn’t as good with self control as he is, he might even have marched across the room and kissed it off by now. instead, he only gives you a quizzical look before he turns back to his…endless pile of papers.

“and what do you mean by that?”

the question alone is all the encouragement you need to dramatically fall back on the couch you’re seated at, arm falling to cover your face as you sigh with a little more emphasis than you really need. it’s so like you—so typical to bring out the theatrics, and it’s so like him to roll his eyes and mumble about how you’re over exaggerating.

and yet, somehow, it works. everything about you and alhaitham works—even as you glare his way while he rolls his eyes, even as you whine about everything while he always has that same dry tone, even as you jump to conclusions while he thinks through everything meticulously. somehow, it always works—which is why you refuse to let those filthy, home wrecking girls from the akademiya come anywhere near your (slightly irritating, but very attractive) boyfriend.

“today i overheard two girls talking about your abs. two! only archons know how many other people have been talking about them—”

he clears his throat, cutting you off and silently hoping you don’t notice the slight blush on his cheeks as he mumbles, “well, there’s not much you and i can do if other people—”

“and just imagine if they’ve stared at your tits! this is horrible—”

“i don’t have tits,” he hisses, “why must you always insist on calling them that—”

“oh no,” you croak woefully, cutting him off as you ignore him, “they can’t have your tits. you have to stop wearing that tight shirt, our relationship depends on it,” you insist.

“you can’t be serious—”

“in fact, i think you should just wear the akademiya robes. they won’t be able to stare at much of anything if you wear those.”

“and if they stare at my face?” he raises a brow, lips quirked slightly in amusement even has the lingering flush of pink still grazes his skin.

and he looks beautiful like that—soft rays of sun kissing the silver strands of hair so they look golden, flowing over his skin and letting shadows nestle into the sharp slopes of his cheekbones. you can’t see from where you are, but you know there are flakes of gold lit up in those teal eyes of his—the same eyes you glare into when you’re mad, the ones you meet first thing in the morning, the ones you can’t look away from as you whisper i love you like a secret you’ve held onto in this life and the last.

you crinkle your nose, clearly distressed at the idea of people fawning over his features, and he can’t help but smile gently at the sentiment.

“you’re right,” you nod, “you face is also very attractive. maybe you could—”

“i think you’re looking too deeply into this,” he says, making your face twist into a scowl.

“this is serious,” you hiss, and the way he blinks at you like you’re crazy earns him a harsh glare, “have you not listened to people speaking of you? grand sage alhaitham looks soooo handsome today,” you mock in a high pitched voice, “i think his muscles look larger than yesterday.”

“i don’t concern myself with akademiya gossip,” he shrugs, “as long as it causes no trouble for me—”

“well this time it will cause trouble for you,” you narrow your eyes, “acting grand sage or not, you aren’t immune to sleeping on our lovely living room couch.”

and you’re stubborn like this sometimes, irrational and just a little flawed in your logic, but alhaitham finds his chest constricts anyway, finds that even when he can’t make sense of you, that faint thrum of his heart tells him he doesn’t need to. so he rolls his eyes, holds out an arm for you that makes you scoff even as you instantly make your way over.

and when you seat yourself on his lap, arms twisting around his neck as his settle for your hips, you faintly think that the akademiya girls would lose their minds if they saw you like this—like you’re the earth’s core pressed to his hands, like you’re the center of his entire universe.

“it’s a bit unfair to punish me for what other people say,” he hums, making you huff.

“and it’s unfair walking around like this when you’re heavily committed in a relationship,” you accuse, poking at his chest as he chuckles.

he presses a gentle kiss to your nose, lets his eyes close and his breath exhale softly as you cup his cheeks. and even with the endless pile of paperwork on his desk and that meeting he’s forced to join after this, alhaitham enjoys being the akademiya’s grand sage just a little bit if it gets you worked up like this—if it gets you to pay a little extra attention to kissing him and tugging him closer.

and when your fingers slip into his hair, and his thumb rubs circles into your hips, there’s an unspoken truth between you that makes you smile to yourself.

i love you, you think.

i love you, he knows you know.

© saetoru do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[pyrodolls]

yandere tomas vrbada x reader hcs

warnings: stalking, tomas is kinda disgusting and creepy here, regular yandere tendencies, some implied nsfw but not smut

summary: hcs of yandere smoke x (gender neutral) reader

a/n: he’s yandere in this story he’s supposed to be ooc btw. usually i dislike when people make smoke submissive and stuff but i get it now. anyways this was fun to write :3 i love you all go drink some water

tomas could not get enough of you. just being in the same room as you makes his heart beat rapidly. your scent was addicting like a drug, you always looked breathtaking, and you also looked so cute while you slept!

in fact, one of tomas's favorite hobbies is watching you sleep. it's not creepy, because your window isn't locked! he's just inviting himself in. he loves grazing his fingers over your skin, your sweet delicate skin, and he almost feels as if it's sinful. as if he doesn't deserve to be in the same room as you. as if he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as you.

his heart jumps out his throat every time you speak to him. even the smallest conversations mean a lot to him, and he'll go to bed that night thinking about it, completely overthinking anything he said to you.

"hey tomas!" you greeted, walking by him.

"oh, uh, h-hey!" tomas stammered.

that's it. that was the whole conversation. and yet he went to sleep that night wanting to skin himself alive for stammering. he thought he was such a fool for not engaging enough with you. maybe if he spoke to you more, you'd pay more attention to him.

he needed your attention. he needed your validation.

even if it was negative. he just needed you to look at him.

if you looked at him in awe, he'd explode into a million pieces. if you looked at him with disgust, he'd have to excuse himself to take care of something in the nearest restroom.

tomas was also a bit of a.. hoarder. every object you have ever touched and left behind, he picked up and kept it. he tries not to pick those objects up with his bare hands, scared that he would ruin it.

that also means he sometimes takes some clothes of yours. only the ones you don't wear often, of course! he would never be an inconvenience to you and steal your favorites. he knows which are your favorites and which ones aren't.

tomas likes to sleep with your clothes right next to him. breathing in your scent as he falls asleep is a euphoric feeling to him. his heart shatters every time they lose your scent, but he keeps it anyway just because it used to belong to you. but no worries, he'll return it once you two are married!

he finds it very tempting to profess his love to you- but he knows you ultimately wouldn't accept his affections yet. he needs to wait. unfortunately, he is far too shy to even speak to you often.

sure, you both got along and you spoke at least once a day, but it wasn't enough for him. he needs to glue himself to your side in order to truly feel satisfied. for now he can handle just being in the same room once a day, but he dreams of someday being yours. someday he can be by your side. if you don't want him by your side and you only want him as a servant or something, he will gladly accept that too! whatever it takes to please you. he will follow you around like a lost puppy if he has to.

once you start dating and end up married, tomas would prefer that you didn't have a job, especially if it has to do with kombat. he would hate for you to constantly be around danger. besides, he can do all the work for you! he wants you to let him pamper you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated. he can leave every morning and continue his work in the shirai ryu, then come home to you! that's his ideal future.

he knows he often puts himself in danger as well. he knows his job isn't easy, and he puts his life at risk every day. but you keep him going. the thought of your future with him keeps him going every day. it is his motivation to survive every battle he engages in.

tomas just loves you very much! he loves you so much it drives him crazy that he can't embrace you. but someday... someday he can. someday he will be able to touch you, love you, protect you. he can't wait for that day to come. for now, he is content with savoring your scent and touch everywhere you go, staring at you from afar, and yearning for your touch. but once he finally gains the courage to get closer to you and confess to you, you will be with him. you *will* be together.