#you're the best and thanks for tagging me!

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི His⋆♱⋆Affliction ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

snyopsis: The vampire Alucard finds an injured traveler at his doorsteps, and nurses her back to health. Though what happens during your recovery is woefully unexpected, but intrinsically welcomed.

tags: porn w/plot (rare for me lmao), he fell first but you fall harder type trope, yearning, pining, slow burn (i tried), passionate, penetration, cunnalingus, cum eating, fingering, hair pulling, marking, biting, bloodletting, creampie, praise, usuage of “darling”, “dear”, “da draga mea” (“yes my dear” in romanian). L bomb gets dropped bc yk what, hell yeah?, pathetic alucard bc absolutely yes

word count: 11.5k wowza

a/n: a true passion project i love you alucard THANK YOU @cosmicporos for helping me with ideas for this fic mwah and also @eridanusco for informally requesting LMAO. Also sorry i dont know how to end fics pls let me live guys pls i tried :(

(click the title for a playlist! I listened to it a billion times when writing this)

Sounds of a distance neigh grew closer and closer to the ear of the blonde dhampir- who sat desolate inside cold walls. Your loyal steed, galloped you to the tall castle doors, pacing back and forth, whining for attention until The Alucard finally came down and took your lumbering body inside, and your horse to the stable of course, he’s not a monster…as much as he beleive so.

After what seemed to feel like a coma, you open your eyes to the stinging rays of sunlight that pass your eyelids; Waking up to a room unfamiliar and a man even moreso.

Alucard sat in a wooden chair that smelled of the same cedar he tended the fire with.

As the scent and the sight hit your senses, you rustled up and back into the corner of the walls in a hurried panic.

Alucard's eyes widened a bit, surprised by your wake. He gently placed his occupying book down and slowly got up from the chair, holding his hands up as if to show you he meant no harm.

"Easy, easy now...calm down. You're safe."

“Who the hell are you-“ you question in fright at his fanged teeth.

He gave a slight frown, eyes shifting a bit as he studied you.

“This is my home, your wounds…you’ve been here just short of a day.”

He explained, keeping his distance to not further frighten you- pointing to your abdomen.

“You're- a vampire?!!”

He chuckled slightly, not amused by the fear in your eyes but understanding your reaction”

"Half vampire, actually” He went on, “But I mean you no harm, you have my word."

“You could be lying”.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of irritation in his voice at the accusation

"You'll have to trust me on that, won't you? If I wanted to hurt you, I could've done so long ago. You were passed out and bleeding on your horse's back."

Realization hit you, his arms crossing over his chest as you stay silent in protest.

"You were quite injured, I patched you up the best I could and kept you in this room to rest. Please allow me to heal you back to health completely.”

You stay in the corner of the bed with your hands clutched onto the thick fur blanket. You give him a nod, accepting his proposal, although reluctantly.

He nods back, sensing the fear and uncertainty radiating off of you but appreciative that you aren’t too stubborn.

"It would've been wrong to leave you to bleed out in the woods." He said, slowing returning to the fire and book.

“I didn’t know vampires had morality.” You retort, slipping out of your mouth without much thought.

He but only chuckles, you can almost hear his smile as he speaks, low and soft.

“I’ve had my share of…distasteful humans. But your horse made a good case for you, you know.”

You have to almost stop a smile- becoming more comfortable by the second with his seeming civility.

Not too comfortable, though, feeling the bandages around your waist.

He looks back and sees you touching them through your shirt.

“Can I see them?” He asks, walking closer to you now with a voice of concern.

You nod.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, being careful not to touch you unnecessarily, reaching out and gently unwrapping the bandages, his movements slow and deliberate as he revealed the wounds beneath.

You wince slightly at the cool air hitting your broken skin, your stomach flexing inwards and your lungs expanding.

He pauses for a moment as you flinch, his eyes flicking up to your face.

"I'm sorry, I'll be gentle," he says softly before continuing to unwrap the bandages, revealing the cuts and gashes on your body. His expression hardened again as he took in the extent of your injuries, his fingers tracing lightly over the wounds, gentle and steady.

“How do they feel?” He asks, taking all the bandages off and reaching to the nightstand for more.

“Fine” You reply.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? I can sense your emotions, you know. And you're not very good at hiding them."

You feel your brows contort into irritation, you dont even know what for- maybe your innate distrust.

"What, you're mad that I can read you so easily?" He replied with a smile, enjoying your annoyed expression a little more than he thought.

“It's a bit annoying…” You say, raising your brows, with a sprinkle of sass.

He smirked again, his lips playful.

"Well, I'm sorry if it's annoying. But you're quite expressive. It's hard not to notice when you look like that.”

“Like what-?” You retort.

“That.” He replies quickly, making you swallow your words.

You watch as he redresses your wounds, taking his time to wrap the bandages around your waist and stomach.

You take that time to look at his face more carefully than before- being this close to a vampire wasn’t something you think you’d live long enough to be able to observe like this.

You noticed his light amber hair, his yellow eyes and long lashes that gave him an epicene charm. You couldn’t keep your curious eyes from wandering over his features, he smelled like oud and iron.

When he was done, you looked out toward the open window, the sill swaying back and forth as the wind dance.

“How long will they take to heal?” You ask as you look back down at his hands.

"It depends. The wounds were quite severe, so it may take a while for them to fully close. The medicine should accelerate the healing process, but it's not instantaneous.”

“Okay- well, if it's fine i'll return to my town then by tomorrow.”

His expression shifted to surprise at your statement.

"You want to leave already? You're not fully healed yet, it's not safe for you to go back out there. They could open, get infection, you could get-“

“I don't wish to bother you any longer- you've already helped me enough.” You state. You’ve been quite wary about vampires- raised to practically believe they were spawns of hell itself.

He raised an eyebrow, his surprise quickly replaced by a hint of irritation

"Bother me? Nonsense. You're a guest in my home, and I don't intend to just let you wander off into danger when you're just as injured as when I found you.”

“It's still an inconvenience…”

He lets out an annoyed sigh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You're insufferable, you know that?” It's not an inconvenience. You're my responsibility now, whether you like it or not.”

You let out an equally annoyed huff, but you don’t bother to object anymore, clearly stuck and indefensible.

“Fine”. You breathe out.

He gave you a firm nod, satisfied that you had agreed to stay.

"Good. You'll stay here until you're fully healed. I won't have you running off and getting yourself killed out there."

He watched you as you settled back into bed, his expression softening slightly

"I'll be back to check on you later. Try not to do anything reckless while I'm gone." He says, walking out the door.

“Wait!” You shout.

He pauses in the doorway, turning to look at you.

"Yes?"

“What’s your name?”

“Alucard”, is what you hear before the shut of the door.

You hear his descending footsteps on the floor of the castle, plopping your head back into the goosefeather pillows as you stared at the brick ceiling, trying to get comfortable again, as much as you could considering your circumstance.

Hours had passed, and sleep didn’t miss you on its way.

Alucard had come back to your room, opening it after not hearing any confirmation at his soft knocks.

He saw your sleeping state and moved quietly as to make sure sure not to disturb you, scanning over your form, taking note of your condition and whether you were in any pain or discomfort even if your unconsciousness.

He leaned over and placed a hand on your forehead, checking for a fever or sweats.

After making his observations, his eyes lingered on your hair, fingers carefully brushing against a few strands as he withdraws his hand.

He found himself captivated by the color and texture, a hint of curiosity flickering within as the sunlight filtered through the window and casted a warm glow over your skin, the smooth contours of your face and neck.

He looked at your physiognomy in almost jealously, envious of your humanness. The feeling of your warm skin coursing with blood that hadn’t yet gone through the process of death. He brushed his knuckle softly against your cheekbone but quickly removed it once he felt you slowly stir away.

You crack your eyes open and flutter your flashes as the setting sun pokes at your lids again.

“Is it evening already?”

He nods, his voice low and quiet, walking around the corners of the room to light the candles scattered around to offer some light before the moons arrival.

"Yes, it's getting late. You've been asleep for quite a while."

You let out a long drawn yawn and attempt to sit up near the headboard.

He watches, eyes tracking your every move. He can see the pain and stiffness in your movements, a pang of guilt tugging at him for not being able to do anything for you in that moment.

"Careful," he murmurs, voice taint with concern. "You're still injured, remember? You shouldn't be sitting up yet. Let your body heal."

“I can't just sleep all day.”

"Yes, you can”…He continues, trying to push through without the conversation. “You're still recovering. You need to take it easy and let your body heal itself. Sleeping is the best way to do that." He crosses his arms over his chest, a hint of frustration in his voice over your seemingly unmovable persistence.

You frown at his scolding, crossing your arms back.

"What's with the pout? You look like a petulant child."

You scoff, leaning your head back and mouth slightly agape.

“That's rude...”

He chuckles, a smirk growing at your response.

"Is it? I was merely stating the truth.

You're acting like a spoiled brat who doesn't want to listen to their caretaker."

“I'm just tired of sleeping so much...”

“Well I can’t just let you run around and frolick can I?”

You pout again, knowing he’s right but not wanting to agree out of…pettiness.

He shakes his head and sighs, “Stay here, I’ll bring you some food”.

“Yeah sure i’ll stay! No problem Doctor!” You say with fringed enthusiasm. “Can’t really go run and frolick can I…?” You mumble after.

“I heard that.” He says as he walks out, making you chuckle a bit.

As you wait, your stomach growls even more, wondering what kind of food you’ll be given. With all the wealth and luxury displayed in just the small portion of the castle you’ve been limited to witness- you had set your expectations high….unfortunately.

He comes back not more than an hour or so later- hair tied up in a low messy bun and what seems to be flour on his pants.

You see Alucard bring in a tray of a small loaf of bread and a bowl of what smelled like plain chicken stock, small floating pieces of carrot.

He sits down next to the bed, putting the tray on the edge of the bed before helping you sit up just a bit so you could eat.

You look at him and then the food- the silence and your inactive made him scoff.

“Are you hands broken all of a sudden? Do you need me to feed you?” He says bluntly, raising his brows in disbelief of your shamelessness.

You gave him a shrug and innocent expression smile- but he lets himself fall to your poorly executed manipulation.

He tears a piece of the what you can only imagine is some kind of buckwheat bun, as he dips it into the plain soup.

“Fattening me up so you can eat me?” You say as the soup soaked bread moves closer to your mouth.

He rolls his eyes and holds it closer to you to take a bite.

Before you open your mouth to accept the bread, you catch a wiff of the smell and…your head tilts away swiftly.

“Oh gods- you don’t even need to fatten me that’s gonna kill me first!” You say as you shake your head.

“What? Stop being dramatic. It’s just bread, here” He says, tilting your head back toward his face and the bread.

“Where did you get that? Did my horse produce it?!”

Alucard furrows his brows and scoffs.

“I made this…it took a while by the way.”

Your eyes widen- not knowing if you should be surprised and touched that he attempted to make you food or if you should be alarmed at how horribly it went.

“Oh…”

He sighs, “Is it really that bad..? What do you humans even eat besides bread and beer?”

You scoot back a bit, creating a good distance away from the bread.

“Is this- just chicken stock?” You ask, trying to find any kind of compliment to give him.

He looks at you deadpanned, and you have to stifle a smile.

“I should have gave that carrot to the damn horse…” He mumbled before getting up to leave with the tray.

“Wait wait!” You laugh as you protested, waving your arms back up to urge him to stay.

“I’ll try it…since you went out of your way.”

He sighs, giving you another chance and placing the tray back on your lap.

You have to gather more courage than you might have ever before- taking the same piece of bread he tore and counting your blessing before putting it into your mouth.

Truthfully- the chicken stock made it somewhat bearable, masking the stale like gummy texture of the bread…and swallowing it before it could bother you too much.

Alucard watched at the bedpost, arms crossed as he observed your expression.

You look up at him after the first bite, tilting your head back and forth and twisting your arm to try and say it wasn’t too aweful.

He lets outs a chuckle and sits back down on the chair; occupying his earlier read as he waits for you to finish your meal.

As soon as you’re finished, he glances at the empty bowl and plate, a hint of relief in his eyes

"You ate everything, good. It's important to keep your strength up while you're recovering."

You simply nod, not wishing you further frustrate him over his cooking inability.

"Get some rest now. You need it."

He takes the tray and turns to leave, but once again hesitates at the door, as if his body screams at him to stay longer than needed.

Looking back at you; his eyes roaming over your face as if committing it to memory.

“I never got your name, now that I think about it. I think I’d like to know what to address you as.”

You hesitate for a moment- but it’s the least you could offer, formality wise.

“Y/n.” You respond.

He replies in almost a whisper.

"Goodnight, Y/n." He smiles.

He won’t be going to bed anytime soon but he hopes your rest is committed.

“Goodnight, Alucard.”

Again is the shut of the door, and you know you won’t see him again til the next morning.

After he leaves the room, he stand in the hallway for a moment, lost in thought- he feels a heaviness in his chest at the sound of his name on your lips. It’s been a long time since anyone has said his name at all- nor with as much tenderness and void of disdain as the way in which you spoke it.

The next day comes, much like the last in its configuration, just as the next few would likely follow.

Alucard comes in and moves quietly around, tending to the small fire in the hearth and tidying up a bit around your room; keeping his movements soft and silent, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere while you sleep.

He notices the moment you start to stir, his eyes flickering towards your sleeping figure on the bed. He watches you wake, and a hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips as he watches you blink sleepily.

“Goodmorning”, you hear from the vampire, chuckling as he sees you stretch. “Sleep well?”.

You reply with a nod, yawning greatly before giving him a “Mhm”.

He feels a sense of relief wash over him, glad that you were able to get some restful sleep. Moving closer to the bed, his eyes scan over you for any signs of discomfort.

"That's good to hear. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

You shake my head, truthfully feeling much lighter than the previous day. You sit up so you can present your wounds to him.

He nods in approval, satisfied assurance while he steps closer to the bed until he sits on the edge, gently reaching out to examine your wounds, his fingers lightly brushing over the bandages that cover your injuries and unwrapping you.

"They're healing well. You're lucky you didn't sustain any serious damage."

He relays, his palms trailing down your sides as he tries to feel for any swelling, and you seem to find your throat a bit dry.

He can hear you gulp, and he reluctantly pulls his hands away and starts to wrap you with new bandages, rolling your shirt back down.

“Thank you”, you reply, trying to fill the empty space between you two, even if it’s just verbal.

He pauses for a moment, surprised by your words. He hadn't expected you to thank him, and the sincerity in your voice catches him off guard.

He clears his throat again, trying to maintain his demeanor.

"You don't need to thank me. I'm just doing what I can to ensure your recovery."

You smile and nod, impressed by his humbleness.

“Do you think, I can go outside now?

Maybe for a walk.” You ask.

He hesitates, considering your request. Youve been confined to the room for almost a week now, and the thought of you getting some sun wasn’t the worst.

"Hm...I suppose it would be good for you to get some fresh air. But only for a little while. You're still recovering, so you shouldn't push yourself too much."

You smile even wider, glad that he wasn’t cruel or unreasonable.

“Thank you, will you join me?” You offer.

He feels his brows contort with confusion, but he can't help the small smile that follows.

"Me? You want me to go with you?"

“Well i've never been to this part of the country- i’m not so used to it.

He chuckles softly, finding your naiveté endearing

"I see. Very well, I'll accompany you on your walk." He replies, coming back to the edge of the bed and helping you up, putting out his forearm for you to hold yourself up with- making sure you don't stumble or fall.

"Take it slow. You might be a bit unsteady at first."

You hold on tight, feeling your limbs finally stretch out after hours of laying down with not much breaks.

He watches you carefully, his eyes following your every move. He notices the warmth of your hands on his arm, gripping and clinging to him so tight, and the closeness of your body sends a current through his body- and he finds himself putting a bit more effort into trying to push down the strange feelings that are bubbling up inside him, because of you.

"Easy there. Don't push yourself too hard."

Once he makes note of your posture, he slowly releases your arm, though keeping a hand hovering nearby, just in case you need support.

“Do you happen to have any clothes?” You ask, wanting to get into something more fresh compared to your tattered and messy clothing.

"Yes, I think I do. Stay here.” He says, quickly moving out of the room to retrieve them and arriving again only minutes later with a neatly folded stack of garments in his arms.

He hands them to you, his eyes flickering over your figure as he does so.

"These should fit you. Let me know if they don't."

You take the small pile with both hands and go to the washroom of your familiar room to change.

Alucard waited patiently outside the door, his mind racing as he imaged you changing inside- hearing the rustling of fabric and wanting to ask if you needed help but he didn’t want to overstep- didn’t want to make you suspect anything more of it all.

Desperately he tried to push the thoughts down into the back of his head, but they keep creeping up, making his heart race and his palms sweat a bit.

When you emerged back out in the clothes he gave you, his eyes almost widened, a faint melancholy in his gaze.

“What…you look like you want to say something.” You ask.

He looks back into your eyes as he’s snapped out of his thoughts.

“Sorry- sorry…no you look fine. It’s just that” He rambled on, “The clothes belonged to my mother, they suite you.”

Your brows rise at the information and your stomach drops a bit- feeling sorrow for him in his dark undertones. But you stay silent.

“Alright”, he continues, draping a red scarf around your neck.

“Keep this on, it’s cold in the mornings.” He says as he pulls your hair up from the scarf and lays it behind your shoulders, fingers brushing your ears slightly as he stands much closer now.

You only nod, allowing him to open the door and lead you out of the room for the first time.

When you step out of your enclosure of a room, you feel the smooth velvet carpet rolling out into the deep hallways of the ancient castle, soothing the soles of your bare feet as you walk alongside Alucard, looking around at the ceilings and the fixtures that adorn the home.

He watches as you take in the grandeur of the castle, a hint of pride in his eyes. He’s lived here for so long, but he sometimes forgets how impressive it must look to outsiders

"It's a bit much, I know. But it's been in my family for generations."

“No, it’s beautiful. Really.” You assure, taking everything in as you finally get to explore the place you’ve been locked up in.

He smiles again at your words, feeling a small swell of warmth in his chest. Expecting you like most people to be intimidated or scared by the castle's size and antiquity, but he can tell you seem genuinely impressed by it.

"Thank you. My father, Dracula, had it built many years ago. He desired opulence." He says with cadence.

As he explains more of the building’s interior, you both finally reach a exit. You can hear the chirping of birds and the wind on the other side as if a portal to an unexplored grove were near.

Alucard pushes the heavy doors open, revealing the sprawling gardens outside. The morning sun is casting a warm golden glow over the landscape.

The gardens- a riot of color, with blooming flowers and lush greenery filling every inch of space.

He watched as you step out into the grass. He can't help but find the sight of you barefoot in the garden endearing, your toes sinking into the soft earth as you breathe in the sweet spring air.

You open your eyes and look up, appreciating the sky from below opposed to the window from a distance as to which you were forced to do for the past few days.

Alucard, though, doesn’t follow your gaze. He instead can't help but admire the way the sun catches in your hair, and on your skin, making you look like you're glowing. A second, much more beautiful sun.

He finds himself staring for a moment, mesmerized by your beauty.

He also notices the way you hold the shawl closer to your body, and he wonders if you're cold or if there's something else you're trying to hide. He tries to resist the urge to reach out and brush a stray strand of hair out of your face again, wanting to feel just an atom of your being, as if to merge them with his.

He step closer, concern etched on his face

"Are you cold?"

You look back at him, your brows contorted and a soft look of vulnerability on your face.

“A little”, you admit.

He sees the goosebumps emerged on your soft and sunkissed skin, and he frowns slightly.

He takes the coat off his back, and drapes it over your shoulders

"Here, this should help." He says as he pulls you closer to him, your shoulders rubbing up as he keeps the draped jacket close around you, a bit too big but enough to warm you.

You give him an appreciative smile, and he returns one right back.

He watches you return your eyes back on the scenery, his gaze softening as he sees the way you admire the beauty of the world around you.

He’s seen this view countless times before, smelled the same air and felt the same breeze pass him by. But somehow, it seems more vibrant with you here with him now.

“Would you like to go back inside now?” You ask.

He shakes his head, not wanting the moment to end just yet.

"Not yet. Let's stay out here a little longer. Is that okay?” He asks softly.

You nod, happy that he’s willing to indulge you in just a bit more time outside.

You can’t help but feel his eyes glancing to you every now and then- and you try to ignore the urge to get closer to him.

Not for warmth, or because of the cold, or anything other than the flickering need to be closer to him.

Something entirely separate, something entirely unfamiliar.

After another few minutes, you two decide to come back inside to prevent any possibility of you catching a cold.

Alucard shows you a few more hallways and rooms along the way, pointing them onto and providing a little history lesson every now and then, not wanting to bombard you with his entire lifetimes worth of stories. When you arrive back at your room, he watches you settle back into the bed. A strange mix of emotions swirling within him. he wants to stay with you, but he knows he should give you some space.

He lingers in the doorway for a moment before speaking up again.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be around."

You smile and nod, “Thank you”. You whisper.

“Of course. I'll be in the library if you need me." He hesitates for a moment, as if he wants to say something more, but then he turns and walks away, leaving you alone in the room, leaving the door open this time- as if inviting you to join him.

Maybe you’re just thinking too much into it.

As he sits down on the wooden library chairs, trying to concentrate on the book in his hand and the ink that sticks to his quill, his thoughts keep drifting back to you, wondering what you're doing in your room and if you're comfortable.

He can't shake the feeling that he's being drawn to you like a moth to a flame- in an inseparable trap he set himself. His affliction.

Lost in his own mind, he snaps out of it as he hears a knock at the library door. He looks up, setting his book down to calls out.

"Come in."

You hear his command, opening the tall doors and peaking your head in to find him.

He looks up as you enter the space, his eyes widening slightly as you approach closer and walk down the sparse steps- secretly trying to hide the fact that he was thinking about you just seconds ago.

"Ah, I wasn't expecting you so soon.

Is everything alright?" He asks, feeling his heart suddenly accelerate.

“Yeah, sorry” You reply, handing him back his jacket, “you just forgot this”.

As he takes the jacket from you, his finger brushing against yours for a brief moment that he curses himself for not keeping it a second longer.

He looks at it for a moment before looking back at you.

"Ah, thank you. I didn't realize I had left it behind." He says in a more hoarse tone than usual.

You chuckle and nod, “I also didn't realize.” You say in a lighthearted tone.

He chuckles softly in return, his eyes locked on yours- Acutely aware of the way your scent fills the air around him, intoxicating him with its sweetness.

"I suppose I was too distracted this morning to notice."

He finds it harder and harder to resist the urge to reach out to you, to pull you closer to him with each growing second.

You break the short lapse of silence, your eyes trailing down to the desk full of books and sheets of freshly inked script.

“Reading?”

He also glances at the books on the table, trying to compose himself.

"Ah, yes. I was just doing some light reading. and annotation. Trying to take my mind off things." He says before looking back at you, his gaze lingering on your face. H can feel the tension between you growing, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions

“What, uhm- kind of things?” You ask, immediately feeling as if you overstepped.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should be honest with you. but he can't bring himself to lie.

"You." He speaks.

You nod, understanding as you touch your wound on your side- Assuming he’s referring to your injuries, knowing how much he cares to treat you. Pushing away the initial thoughts of affection, not wanting to get your hopes up.

He nods, a small sigh escaping his lips. He conflicts with himself- wanting to tell you every preoccupied thought he’s had of you since the moment he found you on the back of his horse.

"Yes, that. And other things." He slips in quietly.

“You should rest, you’re not well enough to be up for so long.” He says a bit more sternly.

You furrow your brows a bit in unease, wishing he elaborated.

“Right.” You respond plainly.

He sees the disappointment in your eyes and immediately regrets his words. He didn't mean to push you away, but he's afraid of letting his guard down, of getting too close to you.

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated with himself

"I just... I don't want you to overexert yourself."

“It’s fine-“ You reply quickly, not wanting to invest more emotional energy into the exchange, exiting the library and walking back to your room, each step heavy and unrelenting as if your body rejects being away from him.

He watches your back as you leave, his heart sinking at the sound of your steps descending in volume. He wants to call out to you, to tell you to stay, but the words stick in his throat like a lozenge.

He sits there for a moment, frozen in place, before cursing himself under his breath. He knows he's messed up, but he's not sure how to fix it just yet.

Alucard remains in the library, pacing back and forth restlessly, still. He can't focus on anything, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

He curses himself for being so awkward and aloof, for not being able to express his feelings properly even if they aren’t all fleshed out and appropriate.

He wants to follow you, to make things right, but he's afraid of what might happen if he does. So he stays in the library, brooding and frustrated, feeling more alone than ever.

You on the other hand, stay cooped up in your room. Equally frustrated- pacing around the bed unaware of how similar you both seem to cope.

You stay until the sun sets, wondering if he’ll show anytime soon to check up on you like he has been- angrily ruffled into the bedsheets as you almost wish you never went to the library, wishing you just left it at the peaceful garden walk from this morning.

“Fuck it?” You think to yourself, just go. “Just get up…walk over to him and figure it out? Right?” What even is there to figure, maybe, you were just overthinking.

You put your hand on the doorknob, resting before you swing it open.

As you prepare to take the first step out your eyes widen at the sight of him right infront of you with his hand raised.

He freezes in his tracks, surprised to see you standing in the doorway. He hadn't expected you to open the door just as he was about to knock, and his face looking more pale than before, somehow.

He looks at you, heart racing as he takes in the sight- feeling a mix of relief and nervousness, unsure of what to say or do next.

“…Hi.” You break the silence.

He swallows hard, his palms feeling clammy. He forces himself to speak, his voice sounding hoarse and awkward

"Hey. I was just coming to check on you." He drew on.

“I was also going to find you.” You confess.

He raises an eyebrow, surprised by your words. He hadn't expected you to be looking for him as well, his hopes rocking up.”

"Were you?"

“Yeah well- it's evening so I figured you'd want to check up on me again.” You sidetrack, dancing around the idea of anything else.

He nods, feeling a pang of guilt.

He had been avoiding you all day, and yet here you were, still thinking about him and his routine. Sure, he was too, but he hated the idea of burdening you with such heavy feelings in his care.

"Right, of course. I should've been more on top of it."

You nod, letting him into the room as you go to sit down on the bed as he follows you, his heart pounding in his chest. Why?

He can feel a tension between you two, one that’s been bubbling and thickening like a witches brew.

He tries to focus on the task at hand, but his mind keeps drifting to other things as he approaches you, his hand trying not to linger too long- prudent in his action.

He keeps his gaze clinical as he examines the wounds, rolling your shirt up and unwrapping the bandaged, but it's hard not to notice the softness of your skin beneath his fingers.

He gently touches the edges of the scars, his touch cautious as he checks for any signs of infection or irritation.

He’s aware of how close he is to you, how intimate the situation is, how for the past few days that he’s tried to ignore- scared of pushing himself onto you in any way.

He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and it's making it difficult for him to concentrate as he can see you watching him.

He glances up at you, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment.

“You look worried....”

He looks up at you again, his expression serious.

"It's just... the scars are still a bit red. I'm worried about infection."

You nod, your expression also turning more stone.

He frowns, his fingers tracing the edges of the scars lightly.

"I'll have to keep a closer eye on them. Make sure they don't get worse."

You nod, wincing slightly as he touches them.

He immediately stops touching the scars, his expression softening.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He whispers.

“It's okay- it just stings a little”. You assure.

But he still feels a pang of guilt at the thought of causing you pain, even if it was accidental.

"I'll try to be more careful. I just want to make sure they're healing properly." He goes on, feeling himself open up more- wanting to tell you just how much he cares.

He wraps you back up in new dressing, rolling your shirt down again and leaning down toward you.

“Hold onto me, I’ll help you up.” He says softly, putting his arms around your back as you wrap yours around the back of his neck, holding into him for support as he helps you up onto your feet without too much trouble.

For just a moment your chests press up- but soon letting go.

Alucard steps back, not wanting to cross any lines- but gods is his mind absolute chaos right now.

The feeling of your body closer than it’s ever been- the feeling of almost embracing you was too much for him to handle.

You clear your throat, leaning back against the bedpost, “Earlier today...in the library...”, you go on.

He perks back up, “Yes? What about it?”

“I'm sorry if i seemed too insistent, you probably wanted to be alone”…

He shakes his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Don't apologize. You didn't seem insistent at all. If anything, I found your curiosity endearing."

He sends you a smile, a softer look.

"And I must admit, it was nice to have some company in the library for once. I've been alone for so long that l've almost forgotten what it's like to talk to someone…”

You smile back, “Me too.”

He returns your easygoingness, “You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?"

“I'm not, it's making me feel better too.”

He chuckles, a bit deeper this time.

"I see. So you're not just a beautiful woman with a sharp mind, you're also honest."

“I hope to be”, you reply wittingly.

“Honesty is a rare quality, you know.

Most people will say anything to get what they want, or to avoid hurting your feelings. But you... you seem to speak your mind without a second thought…Especially about my bread.”

You roll your eyes place and scoff, “I’ll never hear the end of it from you.”

“I’m still hurt.” He says, feigning offense.

The two of you exchange a few more pleasantries, both reveling in the fact that your issues from earlier have been mended and quickly forgotten. Thankfully.

Alucard glances out the window, seeing the darkness of the night outside and hearing your yawn.

"It's late. You should probably get some rest, as much as I wish to keep talking.” He adds on quickly.

You nod, opening the door as he walks out into the doorway.

“Goodnight, dear.” He says politely.

You respond with a kiss on his cheek, quick and gentle.

“Goodnight.” You say with a soft smile, and and shut the door on his dumbfounded face.

He stands there for a moment, stunned by your unexpected kiss.

His hand comes up to touch the spot where your lips had been, a look of surprise and... something else on his face. He shakes his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips as he turns and walks away, heading to his own room and recalling the experience with every step. He tries to tell himself that it was just a polite gesture, nothing more, but he can't help the way his heart flutters at the thought of your lips on his skin. He knows any semblance of sleep won’t be easy- not after your stunt.

You sleep deeply through the night and into first light, unable to hear Alucard knocking at your door.

He knocks a second time, a tray of breakfast food in his hands.

Upon your lack of response, he enters the room quietly, his eyes immediately going to your bed to check on your condition- smiling softly as he sees you still asleep, setting the tray of food on a nearby table.

He walks over to the bed, his footsteps light and quiet so as not to wake you. It’s almost noon, and he wants to make sure you’re not feeling any sort of extreme exhaustion- considering the irregular surplus of sleep.

He continues to watch your face- finding himself getting used to the peaceful sight of your sleeping form.

But he notices a look of distress on your face, becoming concerned. He sits down on the edge of the bed, observing intently, his eyes narrowing as he realizes you're having a nightmare of some sort.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should wake you up, but the conviction on your face convinces him to act.

"Hey...wake up." He gently shakes your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your terrors.

He watches as you rise up in a jerked motion- breathe quick and heavy, pupils dilated and expression that of terror.

He places a comforting hand on your back.

"Shh... it's okay. You're safe now. It was just a dream." He says as he rubs your back in soothing circles, his touch gentle and reassuring. He looks at you with concern, his eyes filled with worry

"You were having a nightmare... do you want to talk about it?"

“I don’t really remember it-“ You say in a defeated tone, more annoyed than anything.

"Okay. But if you do, I'm here to listen."

“Thank you”, you say with a faint smile, his hand now on your shoulder.

"Of course.“ He glances over at the tray of food he brought in.

"I brought you some breakfast. You should eat something. It’ll take your mind off it perhaps?”

You take the tray appreciatively, nodding but still disoriented.

He notices the slight change in your expression. He tilts his head slightly, studying your face.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a bit... dazed."

“Sorry- i'm just- still waking up”

He chuckles softly, amused by your sleepy state “It's alright. I understand."

He sits on the edge of the bed again, watching you pick up the food, satisfied that you're finally eating something.

He leans back against the headboard of the bed, content to just sit with you for a while.

"How are your wounds feeling today? Are they healing well?"

“Oh- yes I think so”, you say, putting the tray next to you and turning to face him, lifting your shirt up to let him examine them.

He runs his fingers gently over the healing cuts under your bandages, making sure they're not infected or still bleeding

"Good. They look like they're healing nicely. You'll probably be fully healed in a few more days."

“A few more days...alright”. You start to think to yourself, wondering what'll happen then- considering that you’ll have no need to stay here once you’re healthy.

He notices the look on your face, the slight furrow in your brow as you think to yourself. He lowers your shirt, his gaze fixed on you

"Is something wrong?”, he asks, getting closer to you as he tries to coax it out of you.

You simply shake your head.

He raises an eyebrow, not quite believing you. At all actually.

"You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?"

“I know…” You say, unconvincingly once again.

He reaches out and gently takes your hand in his, his touch gentle and comforting

"You can trust me, you know. I won't judge you. I swear it.” He says with a gentle expression.

“Yeah- yeah I know.” You say quickly, your face developing a rouge at his sudden act of affection. Or maybe it was just- care, a polite gesture of friendship.

You go back to eating your breakfast, slipping your hand out of his.

Even while enjoying your morning meal, your stomach is heavy with the residual feelings of your nightmare- frustration that you can’t seem to remember what made you feel so ill.

“Do you ever get nightmares?” You ask Alucard.

He looks to face you- a bit unprepared for your question but honest.

“At times, they seem more like recollections than fantasies of my mind.”

You furrow your brows, looking done at your food and playing around with it.

“I can’t remember what I was even dreaming about- but it’s a strange feeling.”

You go on, opening up about the discomfort of your body.

He frowns, feeling a mix of sympathy and concern for you. He pulls you closer to him, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away from you."

You let out a surprised sound- hands hesitating to wrap around him.

He can feel your surprise, unrelenting. He holds you tightly against his chest, one hand gently stroking your hair

"It's okay," he murmurs softly.

"You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. Alright?”

You feel your brows scrunch up and your body lighten- as if he’s shared some room in his body for you to lay your afflictions bare. To take some of the pain from you and lock it away in himself.

With contemplation- you hug him back.

He holds you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head

"That's it," he murmurs. "Just relax. Let me hold you."

His words soothe you like a balm, mending together pensive feelings of melancholy you weren’t even aware of before.

You feel warm tears roll down your cheeks, sniffling before he gently rocking you back and forth as he tries to soothe you

"Shhh, it's okay. Let it all out," he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and compassion.

"I've got you," he continues.

You use every second to try and pull yourself up together- but he wraps around you close, holding you together as you fall apart in his arms.

He continues to whisper words of comfort, his voice low and soothing

"You're doing so well. Just keep breathing. In and out, that's it."

After a few minutes of much needed exhalations, you recover well in the vampires arms.

He feels a sense of relief wash over him as you relax against him. He gently tilts your chin up.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asks gently, his hand still stroking your hair.

You let out a cathartic sigh, nodding.

He cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb gently brushing away the tears from your face

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. You had me worried for a moment there."

“Sorry...I guess I just haven't had someone hug me a long time.”

He shakes his head, his hand still cupping your cheek.

"You have nothing to apologize for.

And don't ever apologize for needing comfort. Everyone needs a hug sometimes."

As you calm yourself more, Alucard decides to give you some space to recollect yourself, clearly needing it.

“I’ll give you some space. I’ll be in the library, if you need anything.” He reminds, before bidding you a goodbye after making sure you ate.

You take deep inhales and deeper exhales, your mind ringing with his voice guiding you through breathes.

The room becomes quiet and dark, you're left alone with your thoughts. The memory of Alucard's touch and his warm smile are all you can think about, and you can't help but wonder what he's doing right now- deciding it’s better to find out for yourself than wonder.

Alucard looks up as you enter the library.

He sets down the book he was reading and smiles softly.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

You smile and nod, walking closer.

"Come here," he says, patting the chair next to him. "You can keep me company."

You gladly take a seat, eyes roaming over the various books and sheets covering the desk- similar to yesterday’s spreads.

He notices how close your face is to his work. He closes the book, gently tapping your forehead with it.

"You're going to give yourself a headache if you keep reading like that," he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

You pout and rub your forehead.

“Rude…” You say in a whisper.

You scoot closer to get a better look at the writing, your elbows folding on top of the table.

As you observe the scripts, Alucard is more concerned with how beautiful you look- even when you’re concentrated, and he can't help but feel a pang of longing in his chest- quickly pushes those feelings aside, not wanting to ruin the moment with his own desires.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, noticing the pause of his writing and his gaze.

He blinks, realizing he's been caught staring. He quickly looks away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Ah, nothing," he says, trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

"Just lost in thought for a moment."

You nod, going back to watching him work, putting your head on his shoulder with the close proximity.

He freezes for a moment, completely caught off guard by your sudden closeness. He can feel the warmth of your body against his, and the scent of your hair filling his senses.

He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

He can feel your laughter vibrating through him, and it's a pleasant sensation.

"What's so funny, human?" he asks, playfully.

“Nothing, you've just….been on that page for a while. You can’t read can you? Tell me the truth.” You play around sarcastically.

He glances back down at the book, realizing that he's been staring at the same page for several minutes now, obviously at that.

He lets out a soft chuckle, embarrassed that he got so distracted by your presence once again, finding it to a troublesome, reoccurring issue.

"Ah, I guess I am a bit distracted," he admits, his gaze flickering back to you.

“No no it’s okay, lots of people can’t read you know. Don’t be embarrassed”, you continue with your nonsense joke.

You pretend to look around, your eyes going around left and right as he shakes his head.

He shuts the book, setting it aside and turning his full attention to you as he pushes it away.

He turns his body towards you.

"You're a distraction," he teases, poking your side gently.

“Hey!” You exclaim, “you invited me to sit here”, you digress, poking him back.

He chuckles and dips his finger in a small pool of ink, swiping it on your nose, making you backup a bit and give him more room for defense.

You gasp at the sudden cool touch of pigment- and run after him as he walks over quickly to the books nearby.

“This is not fair at all!” You exclaim, watching him dodge your attacks with ease.

“That seems like a personal issue, yes?” He says as he walks deeper into what seems like a maze of shelves.

As you get more and more competitive- you finally land a hit on him: a decently sized dab of ink landing on his cheek.

As it lands you run off- not wanting another hit of solvent somewhere on your face.

But of course…to your disadvantage, you can’t necessarily outrun a vampire.

Easily, he catches up to you- pinning you against the bookshelf. He stands over you, his body caging you in, as he holds up his finger- ready to mark you with another proof of failure.

"No escape now," he teases, his hand slowly and tauntingly smearing ink around your chin.

You roll your eyes and chuckle- the both of you breathless from the chase.

He can feel your small breathes mingle with his- noticing your chest pressed up against his.

He looks down at you, his eyes locking onto yours, and suddenly the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intense.

He rubs your bottom lip- except you don’t feel anymore ink rubbing into you, just the touch of his skin, his eyes glued to your supple lips as you look at his gaze.

“Alucard…?” You whisper softly.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes still glued to your flushed cheeks and the staggered breathe that escapes from your mouth.

“Hm?” He responds, finally flickering his eyes up to look at you.

“Yes dear?”

As your eyes lock, you feel a force that only pushes you to an immeasurable distance into him- and he responds immediately.

As if endless moments of pining finally meet its destiny- the kiss is tentative at first, a slow exploration of each other's mouths.

He takes his time, wanting to savor every moment of this, wanting to make sure that you're comfortable and enjoying it too.

Your arms wrap around each there- Alucards large frame pressing you into the bookcases behind you as his hands hold your sides- your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

He groans softly at your hands on him, your tongue meeting his in a heated dance. He's surprised by how easily you fall into rhythm with him, how well your bodies seem to fit together.

He revels in the sounds you're making, the way your body trembles against his. He descends his kisses to your cheek and then neck- feeling your pulse racing under his lips. He continues to kiss and nip at your neck, his fangs scraping gently against your skin as he moves down to your collarbone- the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin absolutely electric.

Your fingers grip slightly at his hair, running through them as he lavishes your shoulder with his sweet kisses.

Your body starts to arch into his touch. His hands on your sides tighten, holding you in place- his breath heavy as he starts to speak between kisses.

“Stop me…please, please stop me if you don’t want this…Stop me, I won’t be able to stop myself.” He pleads, kissing up to your ear as his other hand snakes up to hold the side of your neck, pulling his face to look at you again, his aureate eyes piercing into yours.

You let out deep breathes from your nose, swallowing the lumps in your throat as your half lidded eyes meet his, nodding just enough to assure him before diving back into his lips.

He groans again at the feeling of your lips, his grip on your thighs tightening. He presses his hips against yours, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jawline and to your neck once more. He can't resist the urge to mark you, his teeth meeting kisses and sucks at the sensitive flesh.

“Alucard-“ You interrupt.

He growls against your neck, his teeth almost sinking into your skin just enough to leave a mark

"Yes, my dear?" he murmurs, his voice low and yearnful.

“You….can drink, if you want to.” You go on softly, seeing his eyes flicker with an immediate importance.

He lets out a shaky breath, his control hanging by a thread. He can feel his fangs lengthening, his body practically vibrating with need as he gulps.

"You shouldn’t say such things to a dhampir," he growls, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your pulse point once more.

He can feel your heart racing, the scent of your blood is enough for him to go mad- the sound of your blood that pumps through your veins sounding like the perfect symphony.

"Last chance to change your mind, y/n.” He murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

You shake your head, holding his chin and tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I want to feel it…feel you.”

Your words cause his self-control to shatter. He can't hold back any longer, the need to taste your blood overpowering everything else, any sense of responsibility or moral compass gone- your declaration of want is all it takes.

He sinks his fangs into your neck, a deep moan rumbling in his chest as the taste of your blood hits his tongue. You feel the two long needles puncture your skin smoothly- the pain quickly subsiding as you feel his lips plant themselves on your skin and his breathe blows kisses over your skin over and over- his chest puffing out as he gets closer and more greedy.

You felt his hands clutching at your waist as if his fingerprints could weld onto your skin like iron.

The pain and pleasure mingled, creating a heady cocktail that clouded your senses.

The room spun around you, the world narrowing to the sensations of his fangs in your skin and the blood leaving you and nourishing him, his heart pounding in sync with your own.

You felt his hardened length, insistent, pressing against your thigh, a silent testament to the desire coursing through him while the taste of your blood intoxicates him- the taste like ambrosia, all while he can feel your body trembling against his, can hear the sounds of pleasure falling from your lips.

He can smell your arousal, the scent driving him wild with desire. He drinks deeply, his tongue lapping at the puncture wounds on your neck to encourage the flow of blood.

His grip on you almost bruising as he grinds against you-feeling himself losing control, his body acting on pure instinct as he takes what he needs from you, as if you were providing him with life force.

He finally pulls back, his fangs leaving your neck as he looks at you- your blood on his lips staining them as if he devoured a mound of cherries.

You smear the droplet across the corner of his lip- the red hue replacing what was once ink, pressing your lips onto his.

He moans into the kiss, his tongue tangling with

He carries you over to the nearest surface, which just so happens to be the desk you were just at. He sets you down on it, his body pressing against yours as he continues to kiss you hungrily and messily.

He chuckles against your lips, enjoying the way you groan as he pushes the books off the desk to make space for you. He lifts your hips slightly, grinding his hardness against you through the layers of fabric between you- growling in approval as you open your legs for him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he presses himself against you even more.

He nips at your collarbone, his lips trailing down to your chest as he begins to unbutton your shirt with deft fingers.

“May I?” He asks before completing removing it at your confirmation.

He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and leaving you exposed to him

"Gods, you're perfect," he murmurs, his hands moving to cup your breasts as he leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, your head tilting back as moans spills from your mouth- his tongue swirling around it before he gently nips at it with his teeth, the small remnants of your blood on his lips painting your chest in blotches.

His other hand moves to your other breast, his large hand almost completely covering it as he squeezes and kneads the soft flesh.

“Fuck-“ You groan, feeling his fingers tweaking at your sensitive buds while you feel him grinding even harder onto you his fingers trace patterns on your skin as he continues to worship your body.

Your fingers deftly unbutton his shirt, letting it fall open - his head perks back up to capture your lips once more.

Your hands trail down to his belt buckle.

He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your ear as he whispers

"Eager, are we?"

“Can you blame me…?”

"No," he murmurs. "Because I want you to be. I want you desperate and needy for me…burn for me, like I burn for you.” He groans against your ear, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and gripping your hips to toy with the hem of your skirt.

“Stay still”, he whispers, his voice much more playful now. “Let me check the rest of these wounds? Yes?” He mentions, slowly letting the tie of your skirt undo itself as he slides it down, humming in approval as you lift your hips for him.

His cold hands touch your bare skin and you almost flinch, but you welcome them.

“Draga mea…you’re stunning.” He groans, looking down to appreciate your skin under the moonlight seeping from the overhand windows of the library.

You feel the light seeping into your skin and more noticeably his hands becoming more

bold, more desperate, and daring. So are his kisses, descending down your neck to the valley of your breast, worshipping your skin as he kneels down to get on both knees while his face is met with your core- your cunt throbbing loud enough that his ears are sure to pick up on it.

He parts your thighs further, his hands gripping them tightly as he continues to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He's close enough now that you can feel his hot breath on your aching core, but he's deliberately avoiding touching you where you need it most.

“Alucard…please-“

He looks back up at you, cutting you off before you can beg.

“Adrian. I need you to call me that now.” He says, placing a kiss on your core through the fabric.

“Okay?” He adds, waiting for you to nod before he slips the fabric off and finally darts his tongue out to tease the sensitive skin just above your clit, smirking into your folds when he heard your breathe hitch.

He moves his tongue down slightly, tracing around your clit.

He can see how wet you are, your arousal dripping down, tasting it.

He starts to lap at your clit, his tongue swirling around it in tight circles before dipping down to tease your entrance as your moans spill out, hand tangles in the his hair, gripping his golden strands and making him groan into you, eyes darting up to meet yours- lost in the taste and scent of you, completely consumed by the desire to make you feel good.

You feel your hands gripping tighter, the heavy cinch in your abdomen ready to snap.

Minutes that felt like hours of him reverently pleasing you- you tremble and gasp.

He doubles down his efforts, his tongue and lips working even harder to push you over the edge. He can tell you're close, your body trembling and your breath coming in short gasps

“Adrian- I’m-!” You whine, your legs loosening their clasps around his face as you cum on his tongue.

He groans loudly as you cum, his tongue eagerly lapping up every drop of your release. He doesn't stop, continuing to lick and suck at your sensitive flesh even as you ride out your orgasm.

He finally pulls back, his face wet with your juices as he looks up at you. “You’re so beautiful when you cum. I want to make you do it over, and over.” He said, rising up to his feet- resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his breath

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his voice filled with raw emotion, lips brushing on your ear.

“What do I do to you?” You reply, pulling your head back to look up at him.

He gazes back down at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your innocent eyes. His hand cups your face, fingers tracing your supple face.

“You make me want things I never thought I could have. Things I don’t deserve." He admits, almost like confessing a sin to you, leaning in to kiss you again, pressing his lips against yours in a tender caress.

“I almost want to keep you here. Just for myself- look at how selfish you’ve made me, draga mea”. He speaks, a smooth accent painting his last words as he pecks kisses to your jaw, chuckling deeply as he feels your hands unbuckling his belt and letting it fall.

Both of your hands frantically pull at eachother- the innocent chuckles and soft kisses between the seconds it takes for him to undress and spread you apart- ready to give you the attention you need.

He positions himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. He looks into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and possessiveness

"Are you ready for me, love?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Are you ready to feel me inside you?"

“Yes- please, need more Adrian.” You plead.

He slowly pushes in, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate thrust.

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he watches your expression

"Relax for me, love," he murmurs, his hands stroking your thighs gently. "Let me in."

You nod, breathing in and out softly as he helps you and reassures you with soft words and gentle caresses.

“You’re doing so well, keep going for me. Breathe…Fuck- just like that.”

He can feel your body relaxing around him, allowing him to slide in further with each slow glide of his hips.

When he finally bottoms out, he feels your walls clenching down on him- making him bite down on his one lil til it bleeds.

The same blood hits your lips over and over on an tangle of kisses, his pace getting faster and more intense as he starts to lose himself inside you- his heart beating in sync with yours as he fucks you on the desk that starts to creak now.

“Fuck- it's so...” You groan, your stomach pooling with the same feeling just moments ago.

"So what, love?" he asks, his voice rough. "Tell me. Tell me how it feels. Tell me everything.”

You whine softly- felling each thrust hammer into you even deeper as he urges you to speak.

“So...fucking good...” You admit, wholeheartedly.

He shudders at your words, his cock twitching inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath hot against your skin

"My perfect little human," he groans, his hands roaming over your body- your walls tightening hearing him whisper to you.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" he whispers again, his voice low and seductive. "Being told how perfect you are? Hm?”

You can’t reply even if you wanted to- and you most urgently did. Only whines and moans escape your lips.

He chuckles, his smirk widening as he sees the effect his words have on you

"You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your neck. "So beautiful, so sweet. I wonder how many times I can make you cum tonight."

“So close- Adrian!”

He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your breathing ragged and uneven

“Come for me, darling” he whispers, his voice smooth and sickly sweetened. "I've got you. I'll take care of you."

You look up at him once more- your big pleading eyes grasping for a piece of his soul to gaze into.

Looking down at you again, his eyes meet yours. He's momentarily struck by the vulnerability and trust in your gaze, and it almost brings him to his knees completely.

"God, I love you," he whispers, his voice raw with emotion- almost as if he had no time to think before he spoke, as if it would change anything.

Your heart thumps, unable to tear your gaze away.

“A-Adrian-“ You moan out- his cock still pumping in and out of you and hitting every spot to make you cry out- ultimately making you spill all over him as you cum.

He lets out a shaky breathe feeling you release.

He’s never said those words out to anyone before, never dared to hope that he would ever feel this way at all.

He buries his face in your neck, his movements becoming more desperate as he clings to you, still going even as you’ve finished.

"Say it," he begs, his voice rough. "Please, say it. I need to hear it."

Your thighs twitch around his waist- overstimulated and sweaty, “love you…Adrian-! I love you…” You reply, clawing your nails at his back.

He groans into your neck, his own orgasm washing over him in a powerful wave.

"Oh, gods-" he gasps, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. He holds you tightly, his body shaking, licking at the wounds he planted on your neck from earlier, wanting to taste the crimson of your being, just a little more.

As the blood draws, each drop hitting his senses, he knows he is binded tightly to a world he cannot live in without your presence. His Affliction.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[pbeltarts]

Hey! I decided it might be helpful to have a reference post for all the details for the AU. I'll update this periodically as new things are revealed or added. - Bec

General Info

This Au is based on Pixie Hollow and the Tinkerbell movies/books! Most of it will lean on the movie lore, but will borrow some lore from the books as well. I also am making up a lot of lore myself to fill in gaps for the storyline or make the translation from MHA easier.

You can learn more about the lore of Pixie Hollow via the wiki!

#MHAPixieHollow

Want to draw or write with the AU and share it? You can use the above hashtag so it'll be connected! I'll try to check this tag regularly so I can share your work! (This should work on tumblr and insta, but I cannot be certain for twitter/bluesky.)

Some General Guidelines:

While my AU has a plot line and is intended to have BKDK as the focus ship, I don't care/mind if you like the designs and want to draw your preferred ship with them! As long as you're nice to others, do what you want! (So even though I'm making this for BKDK, if you like KRBK and like their designs, I don't care if you draw/write that with the AU!)

I do have a storyline for the AU and am working on a fic with that, but! I love seeing others' creativity, so if you want to use the AU for your own writing, feel free! All I ask is that you don't claim anything as "canon" to the AU unless its been stated by me!

Its unlikely I'll be able to design every fairy from 1A or elsewhere, so if I haven't designed them and you want to come up with a design for the AU, do it! I'd love to see it!

If you like any of the art from the AU and want to use it for PFPs/Banners on your social accounts, you're free to do so! I'd prefer credit if you did, thanks!

Most of my work for the AU will be monochrome sketches, so if you want to color them feel free! All I ask is that you properly credit me if you share your coloring.

The Fairies

Izuku aka "Deku" - [design]

Talent: Dust Keeper Alchemy Info: Deku's wings are covered in black veins that creep onto his back and he cannot fly, even with the help of pixie dust. He's given blue pixie dust by All Might and works on alchemy experiments in secret in order to do multiple talents.

Katsuki aka "Kacchan" - [design]

Talent: Fast Flying Info: One of the best fast flyers in Pixie Hollow, he has unique control over the winds. Constantly keeping Deku out of trouble.

Eijirou - [design]

Talent: Animal Talent Info: One of Katsuki's closest friends. He has a best animal friend, a turtle named Boulder, who he visits regularly and takes sun naps on his shell.

Denki - [design]

Talent: Light Talent Info: Playful and excitable, he has a habit of accidentally lighting himself up when excited.

Mina

Talent: Garden Talent Info: Fun-loving and overly social, she loves calling forward a bunch of colorful petals to surprise others.

Kyouka

Talent: Music Talent Info: Likes to play her guitar in various places in pixie hollow for her friends. Momo, the tinker fairy, makes and fixes her instruments.

Hanta

Talent: Scouting Talent Info: Specializes in using vines and ropes to restrain threats. A fairly laid back fairy who likes to bother his friends and laze about when avoiding orders from Hawks, the leader of the Scouting guild.

Ochaco - [design]

Talent: Fast Flying Info: While not the fastest of the flying talents, Ochaco specializes in utilizing winds to create a soft floating affect. She's most useful in helping dandelions find their way to the pixie dust tree or assisting in soft landings.

Shouto - [design]

Talent: Light & Frost Talents Info: Shouto is a unique fairy where two dandelions were growing from the same stalk when it took flight to Pixie Hollow. Because of this, him and his intentional sibling became one when influenced by Pixie dust, making him both a Summer and Winter fairy. Because of this, he can do 2 talents and also survive in both climates for elongated periods of time. However, he cannot stay in one place for a whole year, and regularly has to move between the Summer Glade and the Winter Woods.

Tsuyu

Talent: Water Talent Info: One of the only Water fairies that willingly gets into water, though she doesn't submerge her wings and only stands in shallow ends. She calls Izuku "Izu-chan."

Tenya

Talent: Fast Flying Info: A very structured fairy, he doesn't like deviating from his schedule. He's considered possibly the fastest of the fast flying talents but his wind control is lacking.

Hitoshi

Talent: Dust Keeping Info: Always tired. One of Izuku's closest friends, he'll defend Izuku in his own way from others. Has some unspoken guilt that he maybe somehow was the reason Izuku's wings formed incorrectly.

All Might

Talent: Unknown Info: When acting as king, All Might presents himself in a full-bodied muscled form. But out of the public eye, he presents as a feeble older fairy named Toshinori. The other fairies outside of the Never Council and Fairy Inko don't know that they're the same people, which allows Toshinori to speak comfortably with others and keep an eye on Pixie Hollow from the sidelines. Izuku meets Toshinori and helps him with something, despite the task being far harder without the help of flight, and Toshinori sees how hard Izuku is trying and feels something special about him, so he gives Izuku a supply of blue pixie dust.

More TBA!

Other Characters

Eri

Eri is a human child whose laugh Deku was born from. She lives a difficult life.

Mirio aka "Lemillion"

Mirio is a blonde mouse and Eri's only friend, who attempts to look out for her and make her smile. Eri gave him the nickname "Lemillion" because it sounds like 'lemon' (because of his fur) and how he's 1 in a million.

More TBA!

F.A.Q.

What happened to Deku's wings? Can he not fly?

Deku's wings did not work since his arrival. They look different from others' wings and don't respond to pixie dust, so he cannot take flight. Because he was born from Eri's sorrowful laugh, there was not enough joy in it for him to form correctly. [You can see Deku's Birth comic here!]

What about [insert character name]?

I have plans for most of the main cast from MHA, but not all of them will be fairies. As for other characters, like students from 1B or other NPCs, I don't have solid thoughts for all of them and really only think of them if I plan to insert them into the story so I probably don't have a role for them.

How did Katsuki and Izuku meet?

Katsuki met Izuku on Izuku's arrival day! He was the fairy to see Izuku's dandelion come into Pixie Hollow and aided it to the Pixie Dust Tree. [You can see the comic here!]

Is this a fanfic or comic I can read?

Right now, all that exists are the little snippet comics and drawings I've made. However! I have a storyline in mind for the AU set roughly 6 years after Deku's birth, and I'm going to try to write it! I'll definitely share it when I'm able.

Will there be other ships in the AU other than BKDK?

Probably! But I haven't given it much thought or focus yet.

Can I cosplay your fairy designs?

ABSOLUTELY!! And please show me because I will cry.

Am I allowed to do fanart/write something for the AU?

OF COURSE!!! Please please share it with me too I'd love to see it! You can also use the tag #MHAPixieHollow !

More TBA as needed.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ she's insane, she wrote a song about me ❞ # pairings; exbf!chrismd x singer/songwriter!reader x lando norris # note; I started this in decemeber, and I genuinely have no clue what it is.social media!au

lottiejane

liked by mollymae and 12,925 others lottiejane i <3 estonia tagged chrismd10

chrismd10 lets go back ⤹ lottiejane yes please

georgeclarkeey bring my boyfriend back please ⤹ lottiejane keep dreamingggg

willne chris has found someone shorter than him ⤹ chrismd10 watch it, william

comments on this post have been limited

yourinstagram Crybaby, SZA (with y/n y/l/n)

liked by wroetoshaw, ksi, and 927,651 others yourinstagram tours over, but I have been writing tons sooo, 'thats so true' and 'sharpest tool' out 2nite!!! tagged italianbach, georgeclarkeey, arthurtv, wroetoshaw, behzingagram, and zerkaa

arthurnfhill didnt make it in the photodump ��� ⤹ bambinobecky makes two of us, mate 😔

ynfan101 we will be streaming ⤹ yourinstagram i love you🥲

behzingagram always getting my best angles 😮‍💨 ⤹ yourinstagram you're welcome

mdxix why does she always do stuff with chris' friends? ⤹ yourinstagram believe it or not she met some of them before chris did

yourbestie a certain someone has no idea whats about to hit them ⤹ yourinstagram no comment🫤

arthurtv Send me that third slide, it's going on our Christmas card ⤹ georgeclarkeey worst part about this is he's not joking. ⤹ yourinstagram i better get one ⤹ italianbach bold of you to assume you won't be on it🤨

verstappentv so an ep IS in the works?!?!?!?! ⤹ yourinstagram possibly🤷 ⤹ ynfan35 doing cartwheels as we speak

theuselesshotlinepod sharpest tool, y/n y/l/n

liked by chrismd10 and 78,625 others theuselesshotlinepod This week we have UK royalty in! Musician and Max's wife, y/n y/l/n, discusses breakups, new music, and famous celeb encounters. tagged georgeclarkeey, max_baledge, and yourinstagram

yourinstagram thank you for having me!!! ⤹ clarkevision let's discuss those song lyrics 😊 ⤹yourinstagram non parlo inglese ⤹ max_balegde bilingual queeeennnn

georgeclarkeey dont miss it! she might drag your fav! ⤹ yourinstagram d1 shit stirrer.

somehatingfreak bro why is she with his friends ⤹ yournamessharptool lol she went to primary school w/ max, weirdo

arthurnfill went platinum in my house ⤹ farahsferrari how did Christopher md feel about that?!?!?

thatsthatmeespresso "i've been played by many short kings." Y/N Y/L/N, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS ⤹ arthurtv she cooked i fear ⤹ thatsthatmeespresso ariana, what are you doing here😭

icedcoffeehill so chris and y/n have been broken up for over a year? ⤹ sainzleclerc and she has been on dates recently!!!!!!!!!!!! new love songs incoming

yourinstagram feather, y/n y/l/n

liked by madisonbeer, lando, and 1,345,236 others yourinstagram album release party went crazayyyy tagged livvydimartino, italianbach, arthurfnhill, lando, behzingagram, and faithlouisak

mrs_piastri i see you lando norris

faithlouisak no party like a y/n party ⤹ yourinstagram iktr mama!!!

footybro can the album release party score a free kick at Wembley ? ⤹ yourinstagram no, but I know a guy

willne OI I KNOW THAT FELLA!!!!!!!!! ⤹ yourinstagram he says i can be in a quadrant video ⤹ arthurtv get me in too, will you?

ynclarketv losing my shit what did her and lando sing ⤹ yourinstgram kiss you, one direction ⤹ ynclarketv AHHHHHHHH

lando Thank you for having me.❤ ⤹ yourinstagram you type like my nan xx

mclarenupdates

liked by oscarpiastri and 4,684 others mclarenupdates Singer-songwriter Y/N Y/L/N was photographed on the paddock this morning wearing a familiar number and minutes ago was spotted leaving with Norris! 👀

mclarenupdates yes im losing my shit rn.

norrisweetabix i know ginge is sobbing somewhere ⤹ angryginge13 can't believe I've found out like this

sdmnxix chrismd fumble recovered by lando norris is a madness ⤹ ynjzl no way he sold like this.

georgeclarkeey is lando better than most Premier League free-kick takers? ⤹ theburntchip he's literally lando norris? ⤹ hoetoshaw MY SHAYLAS

yourinstagram and lando

liked by f1, taliamar, and 2,395,035 others yourinstagram hard launch, i guess

comments are off.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not A Word 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

With all the unknown ahead of you, it's safe to keep to what you know. You go to the kitchen with the itch still under your skin. You're irritated, scalded by Sy's unwanted touch. Uninvited. Unnerving. 

You've never been an angry person. Your father is, or was, and it always deterred you from the same. Being mad does nothing but drain you dry. But that's what you are. And helpless because you know there's nothing you can do to act on that displeasure. So you focus on what you can do. 

You take out the breakfast sausages. Your father had a fit when you brought home the spicy instead of the maple ones. Well, he isn't there anymore to scream at you. Or hit you. 

You turn on the burner and set a skillet over to heat. You grab the eggs and take out two. That's usually what he eats but you think of Sy. He's much bigger. You add two more. 

You hear him. The floor creaks beneath his weight and he yawns as he lumbers down the hallway. You sense him in the doorway. That's the thing about being quiet, you learn to be observant. You read your surroundings like your books. 

"Morning, sugar," he purrs. "Now ain't you an early riser. Already at it." 

You don't react; not a flinch. You unwrap several sausages and drop them in the pan. They hiss against the hot metal.  

Next, the coffee. All he'll get from you is that. Breakfast. Appeasement. But he won't get a look or a twitch. He touched you and he didn't even apologise.  

He killed your father... 

The machine grinds as it spits out the dark brew. You measure out your own breakfast. Oats and raisins, with a touch of cinnamon and sugar. You set the kettle to boil and keep your back to him. His fingers tap heavily on the table as he watches you. 

"Sugar?" He drawls. 

You crack the eggs into a bowl and sprinkle in seasonings. You add some milk for some fluffiness, then grab another pan. You twist on the third burner. He sighs heavily. 

"Hey, you alright?" He asks. 

You oil the pan as you ignore him. He hums low. You stir the eggs before you add them to the pan. You cover it with a lid and leave it. 

You pull down a plate and pluck out cutlery. You pour a cup of coffee and bring it to him but do not see him. You stare at the wall as you put it down. He thanks you and presses his large hand around the porcelain, 

"Look, sweetheart, I know yesterday was rough, but--" He puts his other hand on your hip and snap your fingers against him. The sharp swat has him recoiling as you spin and stomp away. "Hey, sug, what's that about?" 

You turn the sausages as the grease spits. He huffs. 

"You mad at me?" He wonders. You don't answer. "Now, what did I do?" 

You take the lid off the pan and flip the omelette. You go to the fridge to get the cheese. You shred it over the omelette and cover it again. He shifts so the chair groans under his weight. The noise reminds you of his size. You hesitate. What if you make him mad? 

"I know it's hard losing someone, sugar," he says. 

The kettle rumbles and you remove it from the heat before it can whistle. You pour it into your oats and stir, then leave it to soften. The aroma of spices and sausage swirls in the air. His belly growls noisily. 

You plate up the food and serve it to him. "Thanks, sugar, it smells delicious." 

Once more, you're one your way back to the sink before he can finish. You pour the grease into a jar and rinse the pans, stacking them next to the sink with the dirtied bowl, spatula, and the rest. You add some milk to your bowl before you put the carton away and you take your oats. 

He gets up as you walk toward the table. He pulls out a chair. You pass him and head into the hall. You unlock the front door and clamour out onto the porch in bare feet. You don't care. You sit on the step to eat alone. 

The hinges squeal behind you, "now, sugar, why are you doing all this?" 

You scoop the oats into your mouth and stare unwavering into the distance. The sky is a soft bluish yellow hue behind the dirt expanse and sharp points of distant trees. He crosses the porch to the step. He bends and squeezes your shoulder. 

"You know I'm here to help you--" 

You stand and nearly spill the oatmeal. You jerk away from him and trod through the dusty dirt. He grunts in surprise. 

"What're you doing? You ain't got no shoes on." He chides. 

You scurry away, cradling your breakfast in your hands, and don't look back. He doesn't follow but it's not a comfort. He'll come after you eventually. 

You go around the garage and skirt down behind the cluster of thorny bushes your daddy never bothered to clear. You sit on the ground and set the bowl down. You bow your head and hold it in your hands. You blow out between your lips. 

You don't miss your daddy. Him being gone doesn't make you sad, but not feeling anything about it does. That's the same callousness, the same apathy he always showed you. You don't want to be like him. You don't want to be happy he's gone. 

💜

After a while, you relent. You don't have much of a choice. That adds to your frustration. Knowing that none of this is within your grasp only exhausts you. You just want to lay down and never get up. 

You go inside. It's quiet. You enter the kitchen and find it empty. You wash your bowl and put it away. Not much has changed. You're still trying to be invisible. 

A sniff jolts you. Sy lets out a sigh and you keep your eyes averted. You turn and walk around the table. He blocks the door. You know there's no way around or through him. 

"Sugar, you're mad. I understand. And you just lost your daddy, so I'm not gonna hold that against you," he puts his hands on your shoulders and you flinch. You shove his forearms and step out of his hold. He holds his hands up as if burned. "Sweetheart, I know it's a lot to deal with but I'm tryna help you--" 

Your eyes dart up, your hand too, and you point at him sharply. His eyes round and his brow furrows. He shakes his head. You wiggle your finger, exasperated. You want to yell at him! You stomp your foot and clap your hands.

Then, without a thought, you push his stomach. It has little effect as he's too big to be moved. You do it again. You slap his stomach then his chest, and huff, spinning away from him to storm around the kitchen. 

"Sugar," his voice is low and rocky, "it was an accident. You know that." 

You scowl and push the chair over. You fume silently as you throw your hands up, curling and uncurling your fists. He stays in the door, trapping you there to roil in your confused rage. 

"He was insulting you. He always did. I never liked that and... and he was mean to you." 

You sneer and clutch your head. You shake it furiously and put your back to him. You shake as your eyes well hotly. You lied for him. You all but sealed your fate because you were scared. Of what? Of him being the one to replace your father. The one who keeps you on a leash. 

You grab a ladle hanging above the counter and hurl it at him. He lets it bounce off of him. "Alright, sugar. Throw another." 

You curl your lip and do just that; a spatula, then a slotted spoon. You turn back and reach for another then stop. 

"You just get it all out. I'll take whatever you got," he says. "Sugar, I know I messed this up but I'm gonna make it better. I'm gonna take care of ya." 

You slap your hands on the counter and hang your head. You're so tired. So tired. 

You slump and turn. You go to the chair and pick it up. You put it back at the table and round it. You near Sy. You point past him. He exhales but moves out of your way. 

You pass him and turn down the hall. You stop between your bedroom and the bathroom. You go into the latter and lock the door. You just need to stop thinking for a while. 

💜

You emerge from the bathroom reluctantly. He's waiting. The thought that he always will be from now on scares you as much as the man himself. 

You go into your room. He's there. You stop short, in just your towel, clothes hugged against your chest. He sits on your bed, shoulders hunched, forehead lined. He looks at you and his brows arch. 

"There ya're," he says and pushes his shoulders back. "Feel any better?" 

You blink and drop your clothes in the basket. You pull open the dresser and feel the towel slacken dangerously. You catch it and suck in a breath. He growls. You reach to grab a shirt. 

"You know, sugar, I don't wanna overload ya but..." the bed shifts with him. "We can't stay here. Bed's too small, as much as I enjoy cuddling and... it just don't feel right, does it?" 

You open the lower drawer, carefully bending your legs to grab a pair of linen pants. You stand straight and pluck out some clean underwear. He stands and you tense as he nears. 

"I meant it. I'm gonna be good to ya," he touches your shoulder and you reel away from him. You face him and he mopes. "Please, don't be mad at me. I couldn't-- I couldn't do nothing to bring him back. And I couldn't see him abuse ya no more." 

You frown. 

"You understand, don't ya? That's what he was doin'? Abusing ya? All those years?" He steps closer again. 

Your lip trembles and your eyes singe. You back up and spin away from him. You race out of the room and across the hall. He sighs and follows you but stops on the other side of the door. 

"I only wanted to hurt him. Not you," he pleads. 

You look at your reflection. Your tears spill over and you squeeze the clothes tight. You sink down to your knees as your bad racks with sobs. 

You're not sad your dad's gone. You're not even mad about what Sy did to him. He deserved it. You're scared and lost and... alone. 

Before, with your dad, you knew what was expected. Now you do and you don't. Sy told the sheriff he's going to marry you. Why? You know wives have duties. You don't know if you can do those. Not the ones beyond cooking and cleaning. 

"It's okay, you know? I'll wait for ya," he drawls as his hand brushes loudly down the door. "However long you want. I know you got a lot to think about. And I want you to think about the good things." He leans on the door as it moves in the frame. "You know, I got you a nice table with a light for your arts and stuff. Got ya all these little things, too. Think you'll like em. And some flowers." 

You glare at your door and shake your head. Good things? You've never know anything good. Not before and not now. But you never expected it all to get so much worse. 

[ksdarou]

My best friend's mother is my fuck buddy

Words: 2289

Tags : Big tits, Handjob, risky sex

In the quiet, tree-lined streets of our small town, there lived a woman named Yeji. She was a creature of simple beauty, with dark hair that cascaded down her back like a moonlit river and skin that seemed to glow with the warmth of a thousand distant suns. Her eyes, a deep brown, held the kind of secrets that could make a man's heart skip a beat. But Yeji wasn't just any woman; she was the mother of my childhood friend, Minho.

Minho and I had been thick as thieves since we could barely walk, our friendship a pattern of shared scrapes, whispered secrets, and stolen moments of pure, unbridled mischief. Yeji had always been there, a silent sentinel watching over us, her eyes often filled with a knowing smile. As we grew older, her teasing nature grew bolder, yet she remained the epitome of grace and poise, a constant source of both admiration and confusion for me.

One particularly hot summer afternoon, as we lazed in the shade of the large oak in Minho's backyard, Yeji brought us tall glasses of iced tea, the condensation beading up and running down the sides. "Drink up, my little soldiers," she said, her accent thick and playful. As she handed me my glass, her hand lingered just a fraction too long, her thumb grazing the back of my hand. It was innocent enough, but the way she looked at me made my cheeks burn.

"Thanks, Mrs. Hwang," I mumbled, taking a hasty sip to hide my nerves.

"Oh, please," she said, her laughter tinkling like wind chimes. "Call me Yeji." She winked, the gesture sending a shiver down my spine. Little did I know, that small act of familiarity was the opening note of a symphony that would soon engulf me in a world of forbidden desires and unspoken agreements.

The days grew longer, the heat more oppressive, and Yeji's teasing more intense. Her clothes seemed to shrink, revealing more and more of her lithe body. The way she'd bend over to pick up a towel or the way her shirt clung to her when she walked by the pool, leaving wet trails on her skin, had me swallowing hard. I couldn't help but steal glances, my eyes drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Then came the night that changed everything. I was staying over, and after Minho had gone to bed, Yeji and I found ourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. She sat close, our legs brushing together. The air grew thick with tension, and when she leaned over, her breath hot against my ear, she whispered, "Do you know what I want?" My heart hammered in my chest.

Her hand slid up my thigh, her touch featherlight yet firm, until it reached the unmistakable bulge in my shorts. "I've wanted to do this for so long," she murmured, her voice a siren's song. Before I could protest or even process what was happening, she had unzipped my shorts and was stroking me gently, her eyes never leaving mine. I was lost in a sea of sensation, drowning in the warmth of her touch.

The next day, the house was a minefield of anticipation. Every creak of the floorboard, every rustle of a curtain seemed to echo with the promise of what was to come. Yeji had set the rules, and today, she had granted me the privilege of touching her breasts. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, my every move calculated, my every breath shallow.

When the moment finally arrived, she led me to her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind us like a gunshot. She sat on the edge of the bed, her back to me. "You can touch them," she said, her voice a smoky whisper. "But only if you're gentle."

My hands trembled as I reached out, the fabric of her shirt cool under my fingertips. As I slid it off her shoulders, revealing her bare skin, she leaned back, offering herself to me. Her breasts were firm, the nipples already pebbled with desire. I cupped them, feeling their weight, my thumbs circling the sensitive peaks. She sighed, the sound a sweet symphony in the stillness of the room.

Yet, as my thumbs brushed over her nipples, I felt a strange mix of guilt and exhilaration. This was my best friend's mother, and here I was, exploring her body as if it was a treasure map leading to uncharted territories. But the way she arched her back, the soft moans she couldn't hold back, they were an undeniable invitation to delve deeper into this secret world we had unlocked together.

The final day, my birthday, dawned with a sense of excitement tinged with a hint of apprehension. Yeji had promised that tonight, she would allow me to take her fully. The thought made my head spin, my pulse race, my heart thump in my chest like a drum. It was a gift I never dared hope for, one that seemed too good to be true.

That evening, as we sat at the dinner table, Yeji's eyes never left mine, a silent promise passing between us. Minho was oblivious, chattering away about his school day, the innocence of his words a stark contrast to the heated thoughts racing through my mind. When he finally excused himself to go to bed, Yeji's gaze grew more intense, a silent countdown to the moment we had both been waiting for.

As I approached her room, I heard the faint sound of jazz drifting through the hallway. I knocked softly, and she called for me to enter. The room was bathed in a soft, warm light, the scent of jasmine heavy in the air. Yeji lay on the bed, wearing nothing but a sultry smile.

"You've been such a good boy," she purred, her voice a seductive whisper. "Now it's time for your reward."

Her legs parted, revealing the slick folds of her sex, glistening in the soft glow. I knew what she expected, what she wanted, but as

 I approached, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. Yet, the allure of her was too great, and I found myself kneeling before her, my hands trembling with a mix of fear and desire.

I leaned in, my tongue tentative at first, tracing the delicate line of her outer labia before venturing further. She tasted sweet and salty, a cocktail of arousal that made my own need throb in response. Yeji's thighs quivered, and she let out a soft gasp as I found her clit, flicking it gently before taking it into my mouth. The sounds of her pleasure grew louder, urging me on, until she was bucking against me, her hands in my hair, guiding me as I pleasured her.

The tension grew, the room thick with it, until she was panting and begging for more. I stood, my erection painfully obvious, and she took me in her hand, stroking me with the same expertise she had shown the day before. Then, with a mischievous smile, she turned over, presenting her ass to me. "Take me," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. "But remember, only outside."

I positioned myself behind her, my cock nudging at her entrance, and she was wet, so wet that she took me in with ease. I began to thrust, slow at first, savoring the feel of her tightness, her heat enveloping me like a glove. She was tight around me, and each stroke sent a jolt of pleasure through my body, making me ache for release.

The rhythm grew more urgent, our bodies moving together in a silent dance of lust. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure building in my balls, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. I reached around, my hand finding her clit again, and I rubbed it in time with my thrusts. Her breathing grew ragged, and she began to moan louder, her body taut with the approaching climax.

As she came, her muscles clamping down on me, I could hold back no longer. I pulled out, and with a few more strokes, I painted her ass with ropes of hot semen. The release was unlike anything I had ever experienced, a crescendo of pleasure that left me breathless and dizzy. Yeji collapsed onto the bed, her body still quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

We lay there, panting and sticky, the room filled with the sound of our harsh breathing. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated carnality, a secret we would share forever. Our friendship had been forever altered, the invisible line between us erased in a whirlwind of passion.

In the days that followed, our encounters grew more frequent, more intense. Yeji became insatiable, her appetite for our secret rendezvous an addiction that I found myself eagerly feeding. Each time was different, each time a new exploration of her body, a new revelation of her desires. And through it all, she remained the same warm, caring woman I had known since childhood, her smile never dimming, her teasing never ceasing.

Yet, the weight of our secret grew heavier with each passing day. The fear of being caught, the guilt of betraying my friend's trust, it was a burden that I carried with me, a constant reminder of the fine line we were treading. But as Yeji's nails dug into my back, her voice crying out my name in the throes of passion, I knew I was in too deep to turn back now. This was a path that, once chosen, could only lead to a future fraught with both ecstasy and despair.

One afternoon, as the sun blazed outside and the house was still, Yeji and I found ourselves locked in a passionate embrace on the couch. Her skirt was hiked up, and I was buried deep inside her, our hips moving in a frantic rhythm that mirrored our racing hearts. We were lost in the moment, our breaths mingling in a silent symphony of lust.

Suddenly, the front door slammed shut, and we froze. "Mom, I'm home!" Minho's voice echoed through the house, shattering the illusion of our clandestine world. Panic flooded me as I hastily pulled out, tucking my shirt back into my pants. Yeji, ever the composed woman, straightened her clothes with a practiced ease, her eyes never leaving mine as she whispered, "Don't worry, I'll handle this."

We waited, the air thick with unspoken tension, as Minho's footsteps grew closer. When he entered the room, he looked at us with a puzzled expression before shrugging it off and tossing his backpack on the floor. "You guys okay?" he asked, his gaze bouncing between us. Yeji's laugh was light, airy, the picture of nonchalance. "We're just catching up on some TV," she said, her voice as smooth as silk.

Minho nodded, oblivious to the storm raging just beneath the surface of our calm facades. He grabbed a snack from the kitchen, and we resumed our positions, the tension in the room palpable. Yeji's hand found mine under the couch, and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. It was a gesture that spoke volumes, a silent promise that she had this under control.

As the days turned into weeks, the guilt grew more pronounced, a constant whisper in my ear. I found myself torn between the friendship that had shaped me and the woman who had come to dominate my thoughts. Yet, when she'd look at me, her eyes filled with a hunger that I couldn't ignore, all rational thought would evaporate, leaving only the primal need to satisfy her.

The culmination of our secret affair came one rainy night when Minho was out with his friends. Yeji and I had the house to ourselves, and the air was charged with electricity. She led me to her bed, her movements deliberate and seductive. "Tonight, my love," she murmured, "you can come inside me."

Her words sent a thrill through me, a mix of excitement and terror. This was it, the ultimate act of betrayal, and I knew there would be no turning back. Yet, as she straddled me, her eyes filled with love and lust, I couldn't resist the siren's call. We moved together, our bodies in perfect harmony, as the rain pattered against the window, providing a rhythmic soundtrack to our illicit passion.

When I finally released inside her, it was as if a dam had broken, flooding me with a mix of relief and dread. Yeji's eyes closed in bliss, her body shuddering with pleasure. But as she collapsed onto my chest, her breath hot against my skin, I couldn't help but wonder what price we would pay for this moment of pure, unbridled desire.

Our secret remained safe, hidden beneath the veneer of our everyday lives. But every time I looked at Minho, every time I heard his laugh, I felt the weight of our transgression pressing down on me. Yeji was careful, always the model mother, her smiles and teasing glances reserved for when we were alone. Yet, the tension grew, a tightrope we danced on, each step more precarious than the last.

And so, we continued, locked in our secret world of pleasure and pain. Each day brought a new challenge, each night a new temptation. The guilt was a constant companion, but the allure of Yeji's touch was stronger. I knew it couldn't last, that eventually, our house of cards would crumble. But for now, we reveled in the sweet, forbidden fruit of our love, each moment stolen, each touch a silent declaration of a bond that defied all boundaries.

[gh0stly-mp3]

HIII I really like your work can you do this suggestion for me please ? The bllk boys reaction when they found out that Rin has s/o but not just any s/o but they're a famous footballer that every country want them to play for them and they're also the one who led France to victory in the world cup ! Thank you!!

Hi!! Thanks! Sorry for keeping you waiting! Well, I absolutely loved it! I really like the idea of badass reader, its one of my favorite tropes! Hope you like it! ♡

why choose him?! -> bllk fanfic

rin itoshi x soccer player gn!reader

synopsis: the bllk boys reactions to discovering that you, a badass player, is rin's partner

tags: kinda crack kinda cute, you're a badass, rin being rin (but in love), tried to be accured with the characters personalities but idk

warnings: none :D

masterlist.

It was supposed to be a normal, common and simple Instagram photo. You annoyed your boyfriend, Rin, until he finally let you take and post the damn picture. It was alright, the light wasn't the best, but there was a small smile on Rin's face that lit up the whole composition. You posted it. For you, everything was calm.

For Rin, everyone was chaos.

Isagi, Bachira and Reo were the first ones to talk to your boyfriend, dragging Nagi along. They were more than impressed, almost shocked that you would choose him.

"I didn't think that one of the best players in the world, would choose such a killjoy as a partner" - said Bachira. Rin almost murdered him that day, but since you would be mad at him, he chose not to go to jail (or worse, to disappoint you).

Reo and Isagi were much more polite, and showed their admiration. When leaving, Rin heard Reo say: "two very good players together, as partners... that sounds nice."

Then came Otoya who asked how did you both start dating and how long has it been. Karasu and Yukimiya complimented the picture and the relationship, but the first had a weird, curious look on his face, clearly jealous of you. Still, the three seemed quite excited to have someone so close to you right besides them.

Shidou obviously annoyed the hell out of Rin. He joked how he didn't know Rin could love another person, since he didn't know Rin could like anyone at all, but congratulated him on - "managing to seduce the all-mighty bringer of the world cup". - Charles, on the other hand, kept asking questions about the relationship, some quite invasive, some quite funny.

When discovering such a deed, Loki didn't know what exactly to feel. While it was good that Rin started dating, everyone was just... so excited. He almost felt jealous of your reputation. But if he wanted to surpass your abilities, he'd better keep working on that.

At the end of the day, pretty much everyone discovered your relationship. They either wanted to ask questions or were too surprised to say anything. Aryu did comment on how "glam" was your union, and Aiku complemented how much more "glam" it could become if a certain different player dated you instead of Rin.

[spicyschemmenti]

LEGAL MISHAPS ➫ casey novak

pairing: casey novak x bumbling idiot!fem!reader

synopsis: you spend the entire day being a walking disaster, and it's a good thing casey is there for your moral support

warnings: casey suffering from second hand embarassment, reader has implied existential crisis over moving, reader is basically a klutz which casey somehow finds herself growing fond of, pre-relationship/mutual pining??

word count: 1.6k

author's note: lmk if any wants to be tagged whenever i update this (mini series??)

MASTERLIST

The morning had barely started, and you were already having a disaster of a day. You were running late again. Your suit jacket was buttoned wrong, your hair was doing its best impression of "controlled chaos," and worst of all, you had managed to spill half your overpriced coffee all over the stack of files you needed for court.

You stared at the soggy, caffeine-drenched papers in your hands, horrified, as the ink from your notes bled together like some kind of tragic abstract art piece.

"Oh no, no, no—this is bad, this is so bad—" You muttered under your breath, trying to fan the pages dry as you half-walked, half-jogged through the courthouse hallway. You were so focused on your panic that you didn’t notice Casey standing outside the courtroom, arms crossed, watching you with an expression that screamed, of course this is happening.

"Let me guess," Casey drawled, pushing off the wall and falling into step beside you. "You spilled coffee on your briefs again?"

You groaned dramatically. "I prefer to think of it as... making them extra seasoned.”

Casey sighed, long-suffering but amused. She held out her hand, and you reluctantly handed over the damp stack of papers, bracing for whatever level of judgment was about to hit you. But instead of teasing you mercilessly like she definitely had every right to, Casey reached into her own folder and pulled out a pristine, perfectly organized set of your case files.

You blinked. "Wait. Are those..?"

"Copies of your documents? Yeah." Casey smirked as she shoved them into your hands. "Because I knew you'd do something like this. Again."

You gaped at her. "You preemptively fixed my mess? Casey, that’s—"

"Proof that you're a walking disaster?" She grinned. "Yeah, I know."

Your face heated, and you tried to play it cool, but let’s be real, you were failing miserably. "You, uh… you do this a lot, don’t you?"

Casey didn’t even try to deny it. Instead, she reached up and—without hesitation—fixed the buttons of your jacket, smoothing the fabric as she went. "Yeah," she murmured, flicking a bit of lint off your shoulder. "Because if I don’t, I have to watch you walk into court looking like you lost a fight with a filing cabinet. And frankly? That’s painful for both of us."

You swallowed hard, staring at her because who gave her the right to be this effortlessly attractive while bullying you?

"Uh. Thanks," you managed, voice slightly hoarse.

"Anytime," Casey said smoothly, adjusting her own blazer like she hadn’t just sent your brain into overdrive. Then she jerked her head toward the doors. "Now come on. Let’s go win this case before you manage to set yourself on fire or something."

You groaned but followed her in. Because, let’s be honest, she wasn’t wrong.

You were barely five minutes into the trial before you made your first catastrophic mistake.

Casey had just finished her opening argument—polished, professional, effortlessly commanding the room. Then it was your turn. You adjusted your jacket, smoothed out your (miraculously dry) papers, and stepped forward with as much confidence as you could muster.

"Thank you, Your Honor," you began, your voice strong. Then, for some godforsaken reason, your brain shut off mid-sentence and decided to improvise. "Listen, dude..."

A silence fell over the courtroom so heavy you could feel Casey’s soul leave her body beside you.

The judge, an older man with a permanent scowl, slowly removed his glasses, blinking at you like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"I'm sorry," you backpedaled, heat crawling up your neck. "I meant—uh, I meant Your Honor. Not dude. I would never call you dude. That was just—uh, force of habit? My bad. I deeply respect you, sir. Your Honor. Your Honor, sir."

Casey subtly pinched the bridge of her nose. The prosecutor coughed to cover what was definitely a laugh.

The judge just sighed. "Move on, counselor."

You nodded rapidly, trying to pretend that didn’t just happen. But of course, that was only the beginning.

—

About halfway through the trial, things were going surprisingly well. You'd gotten back on track, made some solid arguments, and had only tripped over your own words twice. Casey even seemed vaguely impressed. You started feeling a little cocky.

And then the defendant—the woman on trial for murder, mind you—got up to testify.

She was… well. Objectively speaking, kind of attractive. Sharp cheekbones, piercing eyes, that whole "dangerous and knows it" vibe. Not that it mattered because she was a literal murderer, but your brain, like the absolute traitor it was, decided to acknowledge it anyway.

So of course, when you leaned over to Casey to whisper something strategic, what actually came out was:

"Damn, she's hot."

Casey whipped her head toward you so fast you almost got whiplash by association. "Excuse me?"

You froze. "What?"

"Did you just call the murder suspect—"

"No!" you whisper-hissed. "I mean—technically, yes—but not in, like, a real way—"

Casey stared at you like you were the dumbest person alive. "Shut up and focus," she muttered, clearly trying not to laugh but also visibly questioning every life choice that led to working with you.

—

By the end of the trial, though, you redeemed yourself.

You annihilated the defendant on cross-examination, tearing her story apart so thoroughly she actually got visibly pissed, which made her look so much guiltier. You had the jury eating out of the palm of your hand. Even Casey was looking at you with something dangerously close to admiration.

And then, as you stepped back toward your seat, basking in the high of your total courtroom dominance—

You tripped.

Over nothing.

Face-first, straight to the ground. Papers went flying. Someone in the gallery gasped. The prosecutor actually choked.

And Casey?

Casey covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking, her eyes twinkling as she leaned down and whispered, "Damn, that was hot."

You groaned into the floor. "I hate you."

She just grinned, reaching down to offer you a hand. "Come on, dude," she teased. "Get up before the judge holds you in contempt of gravity."

Back in your office, you barely had time to close the door behind you before you started your inevitable downward spiral of animated regret.

"Oh my god, Casey," you groaned, running a hand through your hair as you paced dramatically. "That was horrifying. Mortifying. My soul left my body at least twice. I called the judge dude, I made some seriously questionable commentary about a murderer, and then I wiped out in front of the entire courtroom. I am a disgrace to the legal profession. They’re gonna disbar me for sheer incompetence. I can't believe I'm your boss!"

"Breathe," Casey interrupted, leaning against your desk with a smirk. "You won the case. That’s what actually matters. Besides…" She folded her arms, eyes dancing with amusement. "It was entertaining."

You gasped, clutching your chest in fake betrayal. "Entertaining?!"

"Very," she confirmed, grinning.

You groaned again, flopping into your chair like the weight of your own chaos had physically defeated you. "I seriously don’t know how you still have any patience left for me."

Casey tilted her head, pretending to think about it. "Good question," she mused. "I guess you just keep me on my toes. Gotta admit, work would be way less interesting without you around to self-destruct every five minutes."

You shot her a half-hearted glare, but it didn’t last long. Especially when she shifted gears entirely and casually asked, "So, you got any plans this weekend?"

You blinked. "Huh?"

"Weekend," she repeated, giving you a pointed look. "Two days where you ideally don’t embarrass yourself in a courtroom?"

"Oh! Uh—yeah, kinda," you admitted, leaning back in your chair. "Since this DA job is new, I just moved closer to the office, and now my apartment’s basically a mountain of unopened boxes. So, my entire weekend plan consists of unpacking and maybe finally figuring out where the hell I put my coffee maker."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a nightmare."

You flashed her a lopsided grin. "Eh. What can go wrong?"

And then, as if the universe itself had a personal vendetta against you, you somehow managed to poke yourself in the eye while gesturing.

"OH, COME ON!" you yelped, immediately clutching your face as Casey burst into full-blown laughter.

"Unbelievable," she said, shaking her head, though she was clearly enjoying herself far too much. "You are a danger to yourself. How have you survived this long?"

"Honestly?" You winced, blinking rapidly. "Pure luck and stubbornness."

Casey sighed, but there was something way too fond in the way she was looking at you. Then, completely effortlessly, she announced, "Alright. I’ll swing by on Saturday and help you unpack."

You froze. "Wait, what?"

"Saturday," she repeated, like this was just some normal, casual thing and not a mind-blowing turn of events. "I’m coming over. Because if I don’t, you’re probably going to end up trapped under a pile of boxes, and I refuse to be the one to explain that to the paramedics."

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. "You’re willingly offering to spend your day off helping me move in?"

"Yeah." She shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. "And because, let’s be honest! you’ll probably make an even bigger mess if left unsupervised."

You stared at her, trying to process. Trying not to overthink the fact that she wanted to spend her weekend with you. That she was offering, just like that.

"…Casey Novak," you said finally, voice full of exaggerated emotion. "Are we about to become best friends?"

She rolled her eyes, fighting back a smile. "Don’t push it."

You grinned, heart doing something suspiciously warm in your chest.

This weekend was going to be interesting.

[heylittleriotact]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thank you for the tag @razildor!

If you're reading this, consider yourself tagged. GIMME ALL YER WIPS.

Here's the beginning of Chapter 11 of i heard people are dying to get in here in which Emmrich decides to be cleverly proactive (if he does say so himself) about the potential stamina issue he has run into with his young partner.

The invention of tele-health apps was not given the praise it was due.

Before the existence of such things, Emmrich would have had to schedule an appointment with his doctor, leave early, or try to book a banked day (nearly impossible), drive across the city, sit in a mint-walled waiting room full of sniffing people that all but guaranteed he’d be sick within a week, and then get ushered into a freezing cold, windowless examination room, false hope that the doctor was imminent dashed when he inevitably waited for another forty-five minutes.

But now - and oh he was so clever for this - now, he only needed to punch in his credit card information to an app, submit a request for a consultation with a doctor from the comfort of his office between arrangements, and wait.

Granted, the ensuing instant message conversation that ensued with the physician that ended up with his consult request was as awkward as it would have been in person:

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Riley, I’ll be assisting you today. What is the nature of your medical concern?

E. Volkarin: Good afternoon, Dr. Riley. How are you today?

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: I’m very well, thank you. How can I help?

E. Volkarin: That’s wonderful. And your spouse is keeping well, I trust?

There was a long gap between messages after that, for some reason, and he almost wondered if the connection had been lost when finally a reply popped onto the screen.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: I’m divorced. What do you need?

Mortified that his polite attempt at cordial small talk had blown up in his face, Emmrich ignored the text that Rook had just sent him and forged onwards.

E. Volkarin: I'm terribly sorry to hear that. My apologies for my brutish assumption.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Sir, please tell me the reason for your appointment or I'm ending the consult.

E. Volkarin: Right. Apologies again.

E. Volkarin: I've recently found myself in a budding romantic relationship with a lovely partner. It's a fledgling romance, as we've only truly solidified our intentions within the past few days, but I feel that it has the potential to become quite serious - much to my surprise.

E. Volkarin: We work together, you see, and I've never been one to wade into the treacherous sea that is workplace relationships, but in this case, I can't help but feel that I might regret not throwing caution to the wind to explore the places she and I might go together if all goes well.

He had been part way through explaining how he and Rook met, and was listing out the bounty of character traits he was smitten with when Dr. Elizabeth Riley replied again.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: I have other patients I need to see today - I'm ending the chat. Please resubmit your request for a consultation through the portal when you're prepared to tell the assisting physician what medical assistance you require.

Emmrich backspaced the entire wall of text.

E. Volkarin: Wait!

E. Volkarin: How best to put this? Forgive me for the awkwardness of the situation.

E. Volkarin: It would be apt to say that she's rather in her salad days, and I am not.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Sir, you're going to have to be more clear - I have no idea what that means.

E. Volkarin: She's in very good health: clearly takes care of herself, despite questionable nutritional habits. She's very energetic, and has a keen mind. Her stamina is most impressive.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Mr. Volkarin.

Realizing that Dr. Riley was on her final straw, Emmrich had uttered a pained groan and resumed typing.

E. Volkarin: There is somewhat of a difference in our ages - nothing suspicious or unseemly, mind you - and I am afraid that I might be unable to keep up with her needs in an intimate setting.

If a sinkhole had opened underneath the funeral home and swallowed him then, he wouldn't have complained.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley is typing...

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: You want a prescription for Viagra?

E. Volkarin: If it isn't too much trouble.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Do you take any nitrates or medication for hypertension?

E. Volkarin: No.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Do you have a heart condition, high blood pressure, liver or kidney disease, blood cell or bleeding disorder?

E. Volkarin: None.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Have you ever had a heart attack, stroke, or an ulcer?

E. Volkarin: No.

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: I'm faxing a prescription for Viagra to the pharmacy you've listed in your profile. It'll be ready by the end of the day.

E. Volkarin: That's wonderful! Thank you very kindly for your efficient assistance!

Dr. Elizabeth Riley: Goodbye.

He had been initially off-put by the doctor's chilly demeanour, but as Rook pulled into the parking space outside of the pharmacy near his house, he supposed he would be rather annoyed too if a stranger took it upon themselves to assume he was married.

She put the car into park and her hand went for the ignition, but halted when Emmrich said, "No, no, darling - you just wait here where it's warm: I won't be long."

He'd formulated this stop at the pharmacy during the drive to his home after their brief stop they made at her apartment for her to quickly pack a bag for the weekend.

'I realized I don't have a spare unopened toothbrush for you to use,' he had said. 'We'll just make a quick stop and I'll pick one up for you.'

It was almost too perfect of an excuse - and it turned out that it actually was, because when he said that, Rook just wrinkled her nose and said, 'It's no big deal - I can just use yours.'

Suppressing the shudder wrought by the idea of putting another person's used toothbrush in his mouth - even if it was someone whose tongue had been there - he smiled indulgently at her and impressed that it was no trouble, and he had a few other small things he'd been meaning to stock up on anyway.

He returned to the toasty car minutes later, carrying a reusable shopping bag containing a variety of completely innocent and utterly non-suspicious items: the promised toothbrush, a bottle of the same shampoo he'd seen Rook use that morning (in case she wasn't fond of his or it made her hair greasy), a carton of orange juice (no pulp - texture issue), a box of Band-Aids, some Bactine, a sleeve of red licorice for Rook (he’d seen her snacking on it at her desk a few times), and of course the stealthily acquired prescription bottle of Viagra that he had secreted within the inside pocket of his coat.

[buginateacup]

Currently seeking a new tv series to lose my mind over on a weekly basis. I've downloaded severance but the stars won't align for me to watch it and I can't tell anybody on the firefighter show apart (is there more than one? I'm very happy for you guys with whatever you're getting, go firetrucks or whatever. Going by the sheer number of fics and gifsets I'm seeing you're all having a lovely time and I wish you all the best with whoever and himever's epic gay longing)

But I desperately need something to geek out over to fill the Ted Lasso/Hannibal vibes of weekly hour of entertainment that rewrites my central nervous system (do you remember the Hannibal days tumblr? Do you remember the gifsets and the theories and the costume analysis and the shit posting? My god the Abigail's dad's posts used to fill my timeline for weeks). I need James Lance running down corridors while I personally give thanks to whoever created Rebecca's wardrobe

[darlingdaisyfarm]

haii! i hope that you're feeling the bestest today :D cause that's how i feel when i read ur fics ! your style really resonates with me bc you articulate my feelings about stan & ford like no other writer can. plus your dedication to building up scenes and ending them with a great payoff :}

speaking of, how do you think the grunks would give their partner hickies? or receiving them? >.< i'd die to read a fic or drabble of your take on it, but you dont have to make it, ofc! enjoy the rest of your dayyyy ❤️‍🩹

⋆.˚ how Stan & Ford give (and react to) hickeys .ᐟ

a/n: HII and OMG thank you so much!!! anon, you are a gift to this world, that's so sweet from ur side <333 you have blessed me today especially the fact that you like my writing style ahgghhgg :'))) i hope it's ok that i made some parts nsfw here tho especially with Ford sorry i just really loved that idea and i wanted to write smth intimate with kisses & marking for a while

tags: nsfw (for Ford's part), suggestive, lots of kissing, hickeys

STANLEY / YOU RECEIVING

Stan’s logic is simple. you can’t just walk away without leaving a mark on someone you care about. otherwise, who’s even gonna know that this person belongs to you?

he’s always been a greedy man. greedy for money, for booze, for a good card game. but lately, he’s started realizing that none of that compares to the greed he feels for you

it’s the same every evening now, because every day, Stan and you spend time together. and every day, Stan hates one thing. dropping you off at home. you’re already about to leave his car, stretching sleepily in the passenger seat, yawning loudly and mumbling about how tired you are.

car radio crackles softly with the evening news, but that doesn’t matter anymore. at least, not to Stan.

“c'mon, don't just leave like that, baby.” in the quiet summer air, his rough voice sounds especially low. you smirk, but you don’t even get the chance to say anything before his heavy hand lands on your thigh. “come on, sugar, just one little kiss.”

his breath brushes your cheek, and that’s all it takes for you to give in. your lips meet in a soft touch, but only for a second. because Stanley Pines doesn’t kiss soft or gentle.

he leans in deeper, firmer, catches your breath and pulls you in greedily. his dry lips are insistent, rough, but hot, warm, too impatient. his tongue slides past your lips, finds yours, demands more, demands you meet him with the same hunger. you sink into the kiss like into warm bathwater, the one you’d planned to take after this long day, you drown in this man who holds you like he's never letting go.

suddenly, he grabs you and before you know it, you’re on his lap, wrapping legs wrap around him. Stan grins, keeping you exactly where he loves you best. right in his hands. the car seat creaks under your weight, but neither of you care.

“you taste so good, fuck, i don’t wanna let you go.” his tongue teases yours again, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes you. his hands are fully on your body now, squeezing, pulling you tighter against him. “sweetheart, don’t go home. stay with me.”

oh, here we go again, you think. you love when he starts begging you to stay.

you smile into the kiss, biting his bottom lip gently, making him groan, and Stan grips your thighs tighter in response.

“i don’t wanna let you go.”

you try to pull back, placing your hands against his chest, but he only grips you harder, pressing you down against him until you nearly gasp. “Stan—“

“no, listen,” he bites your lip but doesn’t pull away as he speaks right against your mouth, slipping into a whisper. “stay with me. move in with me, baby.”

“but i’ll be back soon, Stan.”

“not soon enough.” he catches your lips again, but this time, it’s deeper and desperate. it’s hard to breathe and your head spins, but you don’t want him to stop, because fuck, nobody kisses like Stan does. his lips trail downward, leaving hot kisses against your neck, tongue sliding slowly over that one sensitive spot, and you feel your tired body melt.

“you could stay, you know?”

you smile again but don’t say anything.

and Stan can’t stand the silence so he bites your neck, kisses over the mark his teeth leave behind, then finds your lips again.

“tell me you’ll stay with me, baby,”

you stroke his cheek, tracing your thumb over his lower lip, then pull him in again.

“i will. someday. probably.”

Stan growls and kisses you senseless again until your head spins, until it really feels like you’ll stay with him forever.

he doesn’t want to be alone.

he doesn’t want to end up in an empty shack again, where the walls still echo your laughter and the pillow still holds the warmth of your body.

he doesn’t want to fall asleep by himself, knowing you’re not there.

he doesn’t want to smoke at night alone without you by his side.

he wants you.

every night. every day. Stan wants you beside him, wants you waking up in his bed, wants to watch you before he falls asleep, wants to kiss you every morning without letting you leave his arms.

his teeth sink into your skin as he sucks your flesh between his lips until you’re gripping his shoulders. the hot, wet sensation leaves you gasping and breathless until he finally pulls back to admire his work.

a dark mark blooms on your skin, his mark. Stan smirks, running his fingers over the bruise, then looks at you all proud of himself.

“now everyone will know ya belong to me.”

you chuckle.

“dummy, they already know.”

he laughs, kissing you again. and if he didn’t have to let you go, he never would

YOU GIVING:

Stan stands slouched, as always. leaning against the counter, one hand gripping a can of soda, the other pressing his phone to his ear, muttering something, clearly irritated and not particularly attentive. you hear him sigh, stretching out his words with lazy annoyance.

“whaddya mean a whole damn bus?”

oh, looks like your lovely grumpy man isn’t in the mood today. normally, a whole bus packed with walking wallets would make his whole day.

Stan rolls his eyes, taking a long swig of his soda, obviously trying not to lose it because of a dumb person talking to him. youre beside him, leaning against his shoulder, tracing your fingers over his arm, but he just presses his lips together a little tighter.

his attention isn’t on you.

unacceptable.

at first, you just brush your lips against his cheek. a light kiss that’s barely even there. Stan doesn’t even flinch, just waves you off slightly with his hand, signaling you to quit distracting him.

you hum

fine then

you kiss him again, this time closer to his ear

“mhm?”

Stan doesn’t even turn.

he thinks he can ignore you. how cute. guess it’s time to step up your game.

you lean in a little more, trailing your lips toward his neck, first just barely ghosting over his skin, inhaling the sharp scent of his favourite cigars.

and then you latch onto his neck. deep. maybe too deep.

“the hell?”

he nearly chokes on his soda. no, seriously. he full-on sputters, gasps sharply, coughs, and you hear his caller immediately start asking

“mr. Pines? hello? you alright, sir?”

no. he is not alright. he is losing his goddamn mind.

“shit, hold on.”

he tries to say something, but you don’t let him, sucking harder, teasing him just a little with your tongue, and you feel his whole body tenses.

“sweetheart, baby, c’mon,”

Stan exhales roughly, but he doesn’t pull away. in fact, his fingers suddenly tangle in your hair, gripping the back of your head, forcing you even closer.

“mr. Pines? are you still there?”

Stan instantly hangs up. fuck the tourist crowds, fuck the tours, fuck the money, he already has a treasure right in front of him, demanding his attention.

you hear the dull thud of his phone hitting the counter, and a second later, Stan is already gripping your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“you tryna kill me, sweetie?”

his brows furrowed, lips parted. you see his chest rise and fall in quick breaths as he licks his lips nervously.

“you just— you just gave me a fuckin’ hickey while i was on the damn phone.”

he stares at you, completely dumbfounded. but not even a minute goes by as you see the slow curl of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“god, you’re a naughty little thing, huh.” before you can even think of a response, his mouth is on yours.

it's more like an attack than a kiss honestly. Stan’s huge hands grab at your waist, yanking you against him, while his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, and you drown in this, tasting your man, soda, cigarette smoke. he kisses you like he’s starving, insistent, until your toes curl from the intensity.

“that was mean,” he licks your lips before diving back in. “real fuckin’ mean.”

you smile into the kiss, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense under his clothes.

“didn’t hear you complain.”

“oh, i ain’t complainin’, sweetheart. just sayin’ now you’re in trouble.” you don’t even get the chance to reply, because he’s kissing you again

STANFORD / YOU GIVING

Ford Pines has one very dangerous trait, he endures. he endures when you look at him too closely, endures when you accidentally run your hand over his chest, endures when you bite your lip teasingly.

he endures until he’s on the edge. and today, it looks like you’ve pushed him right to it.

from the feeling of you sitting on his lap, Ford trembles beneath you. he’s sprawled in the chair, legs spread wide and awkward, as if trying to somehow hide what’s going on in his pants.

and it definitely doesn’t help that you’re leaning closer, pressing your thighs against him, cupping his face in your hands while his mouth is slightly open, while he, poor thing, is trying to keep up with you but just can’t. he’s pathetic, so pathetic that he can’t even kiss you back. his lips just part under yours, his tongue only follows your lead. such a good boy. so submissive, obedient. Ford can’t give, he can only receive for now

and you take full advantage of that.

“mmmh, wait,” his voice betrays him, trembling, but you don’t give him a chance to finish. your lips greedily cover his, kissing him demandingly. you press closer, catching that shaky breath when your tongue slides inside his mouth.

your fingers tangle in his hair, teasingly scratching his skin with your nails, feeling how he shudders. poor, poor Fordsy. his hands weakly clench on your back, trying to hold onto you, but even that he fails at.

but the worst thing is that hes already at his limit. this pressure, this hunger, your weight on him, your breath, your voice, your desire, all directed at him, is more than enough.

“you like this, huh?” your voice seeps straight into his already non-functioning brain. and he shivers when your lips trail down to his neck. “you like when i treat you like this. when i use you.”

Ford wants to beg to you to slow down, because his pants are so tight that just a little more and. . . fuck, he doesn’t want to cum like this. a scientist who fought for his life in other dimensions for thirty years shouldn’t cum from just kissing. but instead, he just whimpers, because your body rocks against him in gentle movements, just a little, just a bit of friction, but for Ford, it’s enough.

he won’t last.

“wait, darling, wait,” his fingers clutch at your clothes, and he literally whines when you catch his sensitive skin with your lips, finding that sweet spot and latching on, tormenting him.

and Ford can’t fight his own body, so with a long, drawn-out moan, he cums. he fucking cums in his pants just from a hickey.

his thighs twitch, and his limp body involuntarily presses into you. he literally surrenders to you, spilling right into his clothes.

and at first, he doesn’t even understand how it happened. Ford thinks this is fucking humiliating, a goddamn disgrace. he didn’t even need you to touch him, you were just on him, just breathing on his neck, and that was enough to make him cum like some desperate teenager. Ford lets out a pitiful whine, feeling the wetness slowly seep through the fabric as the stickiness clings to his skin down here.

and in turn, you feel it too, how it’s gotten warmer between you.

he’s ashamed. so fucking ashamed. but you only laugh.

“awwwh, Ford, you really are pathetic, huh?” you say it so affectionately, kissing his cheek as he turns away in shame. his cheeks and ears are flushed red, breath still heavy. six fingered hands, which had just been holding onto you, now hang limply at his sides.

Ford agrees with you. he knows you're right

YOU RECEIVING

this man is not okay.

he endured. endured for a long time. bit his fingers, looked away, pretended he had strong moral principles. pretended your jokes didn't get to him, your touches, the way you fix your hair, the way your lips are just a little wet after drinking from his flask.

but his patience ran out. and he was the first to snap.

Ford grabbed your wrist when you laughed again, saying something about his indecisiveness. he yanked you toward him and you didn’t expect it, so you stumbled, but didn’t fall, because his hands were already holding you.

your back hit the trunk of a tree, and you almost gasped, because the ground beneath your feet was damp, too slick, the morning rain had made the forest's ground soft, muddy, sticky. Ford’s boots sank into the soil, and you accidentally stepped on his foot so hard that you could hear the wet squelch of his soaked pants.

“oh, sorry,” you exhaled, trying to pull away, but he didn’t even let you say another word.

Ford wasn’t mad. he just didn’t give a fuck that’s why he leaned in and kissed you deeply, immediately, no words needed.

and that made you lean back a little. the damp spring air in your lungs instantly turned hot, sending waves of fluttering butterflies straight to your stomach.

Ford always kept himself in check. always tried to be rational, serious, careful. but now, with your lips finally pressed together and his body finally flush against yours, he didn’t want to hold back anymore

“mmh, Ford,” you pull away just slightly, trying to catch your breath, but he grabs your waist instantly

“you're not going anywhere,” he murmurs against your lips, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“yep, not if you hold me like this.”

he's gentle, but greedy and you're pliant, but still sharp.

“we’re alone, finally, we’re alone, sweetheart,” he breathes into your lips. six fingers press into your back trying to pull you even closer. “no one can see us. no one can stop me.” you try to squeeze your legs together from the sweetness pooling low in your stomach, but Ford has his knee right between them.

“Ford. . .”

“say my name again.”

six-fingered hands glide down your sides, and his lips are already moving lower, grazing your chin and your neck. you don’t even notice when your fingers bury themselves in his hair, when they run through damp, graying strands. you stroke him like he’s your obedient little pet and he groans at that.

“Forddd, mhmm,”

“you drive me insane," his lips find the spot just behind your ear

“really?” you tease again. “and here i thought we came here for anomalies.”

Ford almost growls. “we did.” his tongue drags over your skin. “and i found one.”

then happens something you never expected from your always shy and nerdy man. your eyes widen when you feel him gently tug at your skin. the first mark is left right by your collarbone. second is lower, near your shoulder and third is somewhere behind your ear, where you’re especially sensitive.

you shudder. “mh, Ford, wow, you really—“

“you wanted to tease me,” his voice is muffled, but you can feel his smirk against your skin. “now, my love, suffer the consequences.”

he holds you so tight you almost forget where you are. the forest, the mud, the interrupted anomaly hunt, none of it matters anymore

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience:~The host club declares dissolution!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: The ouran fair and the arrival of the host club's families causes disruption. ➼ what to expect:  "Anything you do will be in my name until the moment it becomes Ootori, bury your head in the sand all you like but is still mine." ➼ warnings: angst ➼ Part Twenty three | Part Twenty five

"Uh... aren't school fairs meant to be, i don't know, more about students proudly showcasing unique things they made by hand?"

"Perhaps for a mere average school yes, but at ouran the emphesis is on planning and leadership skills, keep in mind, most of our students are being groomed into leadership postions so they're required to showcase their talent for upward mobility, not arts and crafts"

The twins pull up with a horse drawn carriage before kyoya and haruhi, yourself sat in the back.

"We're rehearsing for the big ouran fair parade!"

"Wow it's just like something out of a fairytale!"

"How romantic" "Can we have a ride too?"

The eight of you all go on a lap around the courtyard "Hey you're getting pretty good at this" Hikaru turns back to kaoru "There's nothing to it, you should've practiced with me earlier"

"Well, just because we're twins doesn't make both of us good drivers"

"It's kind of neat having us all together like this for a carriage ride huh?"

"Oh and for the actual parade tomorrow we'll all be in 18th century-french costumes" Tamaki's statement causes your head to snap towards him "What?"

"I had them imported directly from france they are divine, I heard you've always wanted to go to the ball at versailles palace y/n"

"I...have...but something about dressing up as 18th century french artisocracy feels a little...tone death"

"but you'd look great as marie antoinette" "More like madame de pompedor"

The clock tower chimes to mark the hour "Ah the fairs opening ceremony has started let's make this fair the best one yet"

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The host club declares dissolution!

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"Okay we both know what we are doing right?" You whisper, you and Kyoya huddled in an alcove just outside the host club which was filled to the brim of guests and their parents.

"Yes y/n I know, but i still think this plan is risky, convening with some CEO's in the same room as both of our families while also facing the brunt of reactions of the announcement is quite the balancing act."

"I know, but we aren't going to get this opportunity again...well other than obviously next year but we can't wait that long"

Kyoya sighs "Yes...I know, you ready?" you nod, taking his arm as the two of you enter the host club.

"Kyoya ootori, it is good to see you, miss l/n, I heard congratulations are in order"

"Indeed, thank you sir" You both politely nod to those who approach you as you continue through the host club, occasionally subtely making arrangements to meet with certain individuals when you reach them.

"This is a bit too much even by our standards, you can buy a small country with the money we're wasting"

"Nonsense, that's not the host club way at all and you know it, happiness is above any price tag! Besides think about all the exposure!"

"No haruhi's right, you have overshot the budget, the use of the salon withstanding you had a period style carriage and costumes shipped all the way in from france. Must you be so capricious? Your impulsiveness overwhelms my accounting skills" Kyoya notes, standing in the centre of the salon with Haruhi and Tamaki. "Typical" Haruhi wanders off

"Whatever! Capricious is just another word for creative! I'll have you know that the whims of the host club king are the stuff of dreams! No price is too high!" Tamaki throws a fit.

"Father" Tamaki's demenour shifts entirely when the school's superintendent enters "Do not refer to me as Father, the term is far too familiar. You will address me properly as chairman"

"Kyoya we gotta do something" You whisper, him nodding back, already out of his seat. "Ah very good. welcome sir, please let me show you to your seat" Kyoya puts on his usual polite smile "Would you like a drink sir?" You add "Thank you, that would be lovely"

The two of you lead the superintendent away from Tamaki to a seat. "Kyoya my boy without you I'm sure this club would be in shambles. My son must give you no end of trouble."

"Oh on the contrary sir, your son's vision is what keeps us viable." you hum to agree "Indeed, while tamaki surely has big dreams it is also his dreams that bring in the most guests."

"I see, may I say it is wonderful to see the newly engaged couple working together so well, it is a shame though I must admit miss y/n, I was going to approach your father about possibly matching you with my son"

You pause at the revelation, not even imagining being engaged to tamaki "Oh... while i am flattered chairman our families agreement has actually been in place for many years, but only felt the need to announce it recently as we head towards our final year"

"Oh I see, well congratulations regardless"

"Would you like me to bring you anything sir?" The chairman motions for kyoya to come closer, whispering into his ear. He nods, standing "Haruhi, you're needed"

Haruhi hesitantly sits with the chairman.

Kyoya politely nods, taking your arm as the two of you step away from whatever is about to unfold "Kyoya"

the two of you freeze, knowing that voice very well, turning to find Yoshio Ootori, Kyoya's father. "Sir" You nervously smile.

"Y/n, it is good to see you, so close with my son might i add, I am glad to see that you two are well acquainted. May Kyoya and I have a moment?" You glance at kyoya with concern, who returns you with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "How about you go and check on the twins?"

You hesitantly nod, stepping away, immediately feeling the absence of his presence as you do so, however you do not get far as the sharp crack of skin to skin contact makes you freeze in your tracks, you whip back around to see that Kyoya had been sent to his knees glasses flown off in the process.

"This is how my son has been choosing to waste his time?"

"That's Kyo-chan's father isn't it?" Honey appears next to you "Yes, yes it is" You desperately avoid the urge to run over and cause more of a scene, despite the fact you want to, you know kyoya wouldn't want that.

"You are an embarrassment to the Ootori name" his father steps away, leaving an opening for you to swoop in. "Are you okay?" You reach up to fix his glasses "I'm fine" kyoya doesn't look at you, just over your shoulder towards the door.

"It looks like it's going to leave a bruise" You trace over the redness on his cheek, trying not to apply pressure. "It doesn't matter"

"Kyoya-" "Y/n listen to me, it does not matter" He nods ahead as you turn around to find most likely the only person who could make this worse. Your hand falls, turning around fully and all of a sudden it is like there is no feeling in your legs.

"Father" You slowly step towards the door. "Y/n"

You look down, suddenly the lack of pattern on the floor has become incredibly interesting. "Are you not going to welcome me in?" You look up but still not at him "I'll show you to your seat" you just about muster up the noise.

"Disappointing" he mutters, following you to a seat. "Haruhi? Would you mind getting my father an espresso shot? Thank you"

"Are you not going to ask me what I want? You just assume you want caffe?"

You raise an eyebrow "It is 1pm, like you would order a cappucino at this time" he seems to hum in approval. "I'm not sure i like your tone child, i thought you were meant to be a manager at this host club"

"Father why are you here? I know that this is not a social call"

"It is a social call, I have things to discuss with Mr Ootori, and with my future son in law of course." He stands stepping way too close for comfort "not to mention you have caused quite the stir, and I had to come see it for myself. See what exact rucuss have you been causing in my name"

"It is not your name it is mine"

"Anything you do will be in my name until the moment it becomes Ootori, bury your head in the sand all you like but is still mine."

"Sir I took the liberty of preparing your drink myself" Kyoya appears behind you, espresso cup in hand "Speaking of, thank you Kyoya" he sits back down, taking a sip.

"y/n would you give us a moment?" You a reluctant to leave kyoya with your father but knowing that he could hold his own you step away. "I think that Mr Maihara was wanting a tour of the gallery anyway" You step away.

"Strange, I thought his daughter went to Lobelia academy"

Kyoya sits opposite your father "The zuka club are frequent visitors, expecially during the cultural fair, some of his daughters artworks are here"

"Oh i see, I did consider sending, y/n there instead, keep her away from boys, but your father convinced me otherwise"

"Oh I see"

"Too much like her mother that one, too...independent" Kyoya raises an eyebrow "I would say that y/n's independence is one of her greatest assets"

He rolls his eyes "You are young kyoya, i was once like you, I am sure that her rebellious spirit is fine to you now. But you must learn that if you want to keep a girl like my insolent daughter you need to keep her in a guilded cage...make sure she doesn't stray away"

"Sir your daughter keeps out of trouble and gets good grades, by any measure she is the perfect heir to a company such as yours. Why do you speak as if she has spun out of control"

"Be that as it may kyoya, I know my daughter well, i look at her and see her mother, being led astray with her own ideas. That is why I am not making the mistake i did with her mother and keeping her on a firm leash. I only sent her to this...school...on the condition that she remained under your families survailance"

It is rare now a days that the rug is swept from beneath kyoya. but it was in this moment he was overtaken with vertigo. All these times that his family had asked about you, every time his police force insisted on your protection, every phone call he had made to them...it was not about your safety at all...it was about control.

Not only that but it made him wonder if that meant that he knew about what the two of you were planning.

"Sir...y/n told me about her mother...how she ranaway... left you and y/n when she was young...but that does not mean that y/n is like her"

Kyoya catches of a glimpse of Tamaki and his grandmother from across the room, realising that this battle was not going to be won right now "Excuse me" He stands, walking over but still keeping his distance, ready to step in if need be.

"So does he really plan to spend" "The entire fair escorting some stranger?" The twins question, watching tamaki walk off with a girl. "Eclair right? Or something similar" "Who is she to him thats the mystery"

"I could tell you" You appear, back from your meeting with mr Maihara. "Eclair Tonnerre, the youngest daughter of the renowned tonnerre family they descend from royalty"

"Indeed, the family has quite a history, their wealth is something of a legend among financial heavyweights. In fact, just being associated with them makes you a part of a very elite group. They also own grand tonnerre, a firm that has been buying up a lot of businesses in japan recently. Of course that doesn't explain why lady eclair has come here to visit tamaki" Kyoya explains, sitting nearby.

"Of course it does, isn't it obvious?"

"Huh?" You capture the host clubs attention.

"His grandmother wants Tamaki to marry lady eclair" you wander closer "How did you reach that conclusion?" Kaoru asks.

"Its what the chairman said to me earlier, that he was hoping to ask my father today for my hand on Tamaki's behalf but was beaten out by Kyoya and I's engagement-" "Wait what-" "-yes i know, I don't want to talk about it, anyway, it is clear that the chairman is looking for Tamaki to marry upwards to secure a good legacy for his only heir in the eyes of his grandmother because Tamaki is...well...we all know. Frankly there will be requirements for the chairman to even consider, wealth, power, most likely european, that shrinks the pool greatly. I'm already engaged so it could only ever be lady eclair...or well...renge"

You sigh, standing up "The truth is we are growing closer and closer to graduation. I think the engagement announcement was just the start of many things...which reminds me, kyoya, a word please" He is quick to rise out of his seat "Indeed" he takes your arm, leading you out into the gardens.

"I think your father is onto us" you hum "I would be inclined to agree, but the question is how much he knows, not to mention the presence of Lady Eclair is not good for us, I think she may be trying to do the same thing as us. There is also...one more thing"

"Hm?"

"All this time I thought that your father the one who is trying to hold on to the engagement, that he was the one with the most to lose if it breaks down…I’m starting to think it may just be the opposite, why else would he push forward the announcement”

Kyoya debates whether or not he should tell you what he learnt, but something withheld him from doing so. There was enough going on this weekend, you didn't need this aswell.

"I think...for whatever reason, your father wants access to the black onion squad"

"I can't see why...perhaps I have been so focused on looking into the Ootori group that I haven't been considering why my father would put himself at so much risk"

"Well...as someone once told me, the closer you look, the less you see"

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The host club members changed for the second time that day. "So where did the boss go?" "He was looking forward to this the most"

"Our king is lounging in music room 3, entertaining lady eclair"

"Well well well" "Looks like someone's a little jealous"

"Like I said i'm not"

"Like you said?"

"Look i...i just think that he's being more irresponsible than usual today you said it yourself Kyoya-senpai, he's impulsive"

"True, he certainly is, but in this instance he's obeying the whims of his grandmother"

"Um, now that i think about it, Tamaki-senpai's grandmother seemed really cold towards him earlier. Is there some special reason for that?"

The club members exchange glances "Well, everybody else knows about it" "See, Tamaki-senpai is illegitimate"

"See, twenty-something years ago, the suoh family patriarch died at a young age, for political reasons chairman Yuzuru rushed into marriage to the behest of his mother to a woman of her choosing, allowing him to become head of the family. But several years later the chairman fell passionately in love with a beautiful young woman he met in paris."

"Not long after Tama-chan was born"

"The boss' grandmother vehemently objected, because of her poor health, living in japan proved too difficult for senpai's mother so she raised him in france until he was 14. His childhood seems to have been a happy one, but as time went on, family business on his mothers side went belly up and they went into debt. When the boss' grandmother, worried about there being no heir to carry on the family name, came up with a proposal. Money to support his mother in exchange for tamaki coming to live in japan, with no contact between the two"

"Wow"

"While the patriarch of the suoh family may be chairman yuzuru technically, but for the time being all the family's assets remain under the control of Tamaki's grandmother. What's more, with his mother's health being so frail, Tamaki understood the grim prospects facing her if she were left to live in debt so...not long afterward, either out of anguish or just plain guilt over having bartered her son away for financial security, Tamaki's mother left France in shame and went into hiding, her current whereabouts is unknown. To this day, he's never seen her again. Not once." Kyoya explains, looking out over the salon.

He stands "It's easy to feel sorry for him, but the harships he endured as a child helped mold him into the person he is today. He'll be fine, the host club is his refuge so that means when all is said and done, he still has us"

The doors creak open, tamaki and lady eclair stood behind them. "Everyone I have an important announcement, as of today, Lady Eclair Tonnerre and I are officially engaged. Furthermore, the host club will be permanently dissolved after the ouran fair. That is all"

Next time on patience 'This is our Ouran Fair!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja @meme848 @mistyhydrangeagarden @nanaloverz @hyuninslutbbgirl @rebel-author-chick @voyager1fan @bubbabobabubbles @haowonbins @justtryingtosurvive02

[averycutesalamander]

HELLOOOOOOOO everyone we have officially reached 150 followers. which is.. insane. so in celebration i have decided to run a little event. i was considering running some kind of matchup thing with various characters, but. well. (looks at my entire blog) im sure you see the issue with that lol. so instead...

send me an ask, and i'll tell you what date boothill would take you on!!

only 2 requirements: 1: give me at least a little detail. can be your hobbies, stuff you like to do, your preference for louder/quieter venues, etc etc. anything you think is relevant. 2: send in your ask by 11 PM (EST) on MARCH 20th!!!!! (a week from posting). asks for this event will be deleted if submitted after the deadline. this is mostly for my sanity and to keep this event temporary lol.

i will do my absolute best to answer all of them but i make no promises. no guarantees on accuracy, blah blah blah you get the picture haha. im going to answer based on the assumption that you're NOT imagining yourself a civilian (in-universe), but you can specify in your ask if you want me to do otherwise!!

if you don't want to see asks from this event, block the sal.150 tag!! thank you everyone <3

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Pick Nine: Characters I Dream About

So I was tagged in this post by 🐠Dori @dramalove247. This particular list was started by @nabi-unveiled here. And as I said in a response to them, my ace ass doesn't really think that way. I neither have a special desire to see two characters get it on with each other in my dream nor do I ever imagine myself with them like that. I hope this goes without saying but I'll still say it, no judgement though. This is me. But Dori was very kind to offer me some alternatives, which I appreciate cause it saves me some time.

"Best looking meat suit" "Character I wanna see with their shirt off" "Character I want to cuddle in bed" "Character with the best on screen chemistry" "Character I wanna make eye contact with" "Character I would actually give 5 minutes of my time"

So from that I kinda decided to do a variation on a couple of them. Only ql, as usual, to make it easier on me. Despite not wanting to be with any of these characters, I do find some of them aesthetically pleasing. Basically people that have me saying to myself - He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and...the end lol No, there are different endings so I will basically be using that as my guide. Let's go.

Lan Wangji - The Untamed

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and... fly to Cloud Recess where he will play for me for a while I just look at him, hours if possible. He's so beautiful it hurts me.

Joker - Jack and Joker

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and...go on a some sort of mission where we have to hide for a long time somewhere like a closet or something and I can just be close to them for a while. But good lighting in the hidden spot because I wanna see his face.

Yu Zhen - Be Loved in House: I Do

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and.... go into the workshop where I would try on the jewellery while watching him work. (also, you're welcome)

Togawa - Old Fashion Cupcake

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and... go out for pancakes and I would just watch him eat. Also I'm craving pancakes so it works out.

Karan - Cherry Magic Thailand

He's so pretty.I want him to take me in his arms and...go somewhere to hear him talk about stationery. I really love stationery btw so he could talk about that for a while and I would just watch him.

Kiyoi - My Beautiful Man

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and... go somewhere beautiful where I can just spend an afternoon taking pictures of him. Beautiful man indeed. What perfect casting.

Jane - The Trainee

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and... bring me to a meeting room and have him make any sort of work presentation just for me. Or watch him while he's on set. Basically watch him be good at his job while looking good.

Po - ThamePo Heart That Skips a Beat

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and... go into the shop where I can watch him make a suit, or several.

Wen - Moonlight Chicken

He's so pretty. I want him to take me in his arms and... nothing. Ok, gotta be honest, this one is completely on Mix not Wen. I just love his eyes an unreasonable amount. But MC was where he looked the best imo. The colouring and the wardrobe was working for me. Look at that colour on him? Gorgeous. So I just wanna him to look at me. We could have a coffee or something I guess.

This was fun, at least I got to make some gifs of my beloveds today. Thank you so much Dori! I'm gonna tag some people but you really don't have to play. You can if you want of course. What I mean is just that I don't wanna bug anyone with this cause I've been tagging people in stuff lately. I just want to share my list with some moots. @thisonelikesaliens @colourme-feral @emotionallychargedtowel @mikuni14 @troubled-mind @theside-b @abstractelysium @dribs-and-drabbles @sparklyeyedhimbo @clairedaring @incandescentflower also if you see this and want to do a variation on it, please consider yourself tagged here and tag me so I can see more pretty people. 💜💜💜

[dontcallpanic]

The seriously endlessly talented @teencopandthesourwolf tagged me to do WIP Wednesday and it's been so long I really wanted to share something so thank, you thank, you diolch yn fawr iawn 💙 the problem is i have no time to edit so you're gettin this raw!

Hope you enjoy! It's from my post apocalyptic sterek au, Lineman, vaguely based on the song Wichita Lineman and it's about Derek slowly falling in love with Stiles' through his pirate-radio show.

----------

“So, how's it going, new best friends. Yup. I'm Still here. Oh wait you can't see that… I’m doing jazz hands! 

Do you still have jazz hands here? Do you still have jazz? Wait… do you still have hands? 

Please tell me we still have hands? The jazz I can live without but the hands… I'm pretty attached to the hands.

Hey, D'you remember the old radio shows? Do you still have radio shows? I mean apparently you do now - if this even counts. Maybe I should like, make this official. Hey! I should sing my own jingle. Hah it's not like you can stop me! Heh - speak now or forever hold your peace. What's that? Hah nope sorry… I can't hear you!

So now that that's decided, what else do you guys want? Do you even care about the weather? I mean it's not changed that much in… days. Like, is it always sunny here? I mean I can cover it y'know. It's reassuring, daily check in like, guess what?- the sun's still here! Woooo!

I'm doing more jazz hands by the way. We're gonna make this a thing! We're bringing jazz hands back!

Oh and while we're at it, do you even have traffic to report on? Let me know!

Oh how, you ask? Well my fine freaky friends like this!

Okay that didn't work so well. Gimme a minute.

So maybe if you…huh… can you even broadcast on the same frequency as me while I'm transmitting?

Ummm I don't even know what frequency this is going out on. I should probably find that out. Hah. Yeah.

Oh. Okay. Do that aga…

… etimes… I can almost…

Fucking lost it. Wait. Hang on sometimes if I just do this I can…

Oh wait…shit.

Shit…

I don't feel so good…"

There's a sound like hands scrambling that quickly turns into something garbled as if the microphone has just been dropped underwater. Something crashes to the ground and for a split second there's a high pitched warble like the capacitor has slipped then the broadcast cuts out. Nothing but the familiar hush of static.

Derek slowly straightens from where he's been fixing the mast and stares perplexed at the radio.

The fuck was that?

He narrows his eyes as if he could glare the radio into answering before he runs a greasy hand across his forehead and jumps down. His feet make a gentle thump, dust among the sand billowing up around his boots. Derek is in no hurry but he is deeply, endlessly curious.

It's not escaped his notice that the frequency was different this time. That voice - whoever, whatever it is, clearly has access to proper broadcast equipment. The old kind. The kind nobody should have anymore. Which is exactly what he suspected last time but this is just further confirmation.

His mouth is a grim line as he stares thoughtfully at his radio. He should probably start trying to trace the transmission sometime but, this is big news. It's only just a matter of time before someone pays him to get this information. He doesn't have to rush.

And yet.

That voice...

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Tagging the cheerleader and inspiration provider for this fic @greyhavenisback

And then Very gentle no pressure whatsoever tags to: @patolemus @violetfairydust @gege-wondering-around and @oldefashioned (just cause I'm so excited to see you around again!)

[lilacella]

On Repeat Tag

rules: post the top five songs in your on-repeat playlist <3

Thank you @polaroidcats for tagging me and revealing that you have been enjoying the best Helene Fischer song so much recently [and getting it stuck in my head again]! SCHAU MAL HEREIN!

Here are mine:

I am not embarrassed or surprised by any of these hahah as you can see I have been enjoying the sauna song even though I'm nowhere near a sauna. Very sad for me. And you know what helps when you're sad? A SAUNA!

This actually sums up my music taste surprisingly well. We're just missing some K-Pop.

np-tagging: @werewolfenthusiast @lovelymasks @mycupofrum @in-flvx @neege and OPEN TAG because I frankly have no overview over who has or hasn't been tagged yet 😅

[ardellian]

Every time I’m asked to specify my gender, this is what my brain spits out.

I remember staring at the boys playing soccer and thinking -- wouldn’t it be easier if I wanted to be a boy. I wish I could just wish to be a boy. 

Did anyone else have a conversation like that in preschool, and it kind of latched onto a little sticky part of you and never let go? I wish I also was a boy, someone says, with regards to some gender thing -- like how they all just seemed to be one big group, instead of pairing themselves up in best friends; like how they got to be wild and crazy without being side-eyed by anyone; like how no one ever wanted them to look pretty -- and you look at the boys and you think -- god no. Maybe I wish I wasn’t a girl.

But it’s not like there are any other options. 

Did anyone else sit alone on a bench when you were seven and decided that I’m just going to not care about them, about what they want me to be, I don’t want to be friends on their terms I will be on my own and it’s better. Being different doesn’t make me unhappy, it’s attempting to be like everyone else and failing that’s making me feel bad. 

I can’t not want to be a girl because I certainly do not wish I was a boy. 

Your friend is trans but you’ve never felt uncomfortable with your body in that way. You used to be ashamed of parts of it, sure, but then read somewhere in a book that being ugly wasn’t being bad and if you were ugly then you would just be ugly, and you stared at your ugly parts in the mirror and you said hello ugly boobs and ugly chin and ugly skin, I guess it’s gonna be us from now on. And you know what? Turns out having no boobs is kind of sweet actually; you don’t have to buy expensive bras and it doesn’t hurt when you run. And now that you’re ugly you can wear the things you want instead of things that would still fail to make you pretty, like that red hat, and that leather jacket, and one day your classmates will think you're a little bit scary and that’s a much better feeling than feeling pretty. 

So you like your body. Your legs are strong, even though one is a bit broken. You’re tall and broad shouldered and you like that. Sure, you wish your nipples wouldn’t be so “female presenting” because if they weren’t you could totally not wear a top on the beach and no one would stare. You wish you didn’t have a period because jfc is that annoying. But it’s not because those are girl things that you don’t like them. They’re just a bit in the way, sometimes. It’s not like having dangly bits between your legs wouldn’t be annoying as heck, too, not to mention the beard -- you have enough hair that people expect you to shave, except when you do it just itches and it just keeps growing and it’s such a hassle. 

Anyway you think girls are generally better looking than boys so why in the world would you want to be a boy? 

I’ve been “misgendered” a few times. My dad was with me once and I think he was worried -- I was fourteen -- he was worried I was going to be upset and I was just feeling proud and smug on the inside. Gotcha. 

And when I shaved my head and stole my mum’s old jacket because she wouldn’t let me take it because she said it made me look like a boy. 

And when I got so passionate about boys being worse off because girls (I) could (did) wear pants and leather jackets and shirts that flattened out my already flat chest and it was still acceptable for girls (I still wanted to) to go to prom in a glittery dress and in girly make-up and be fabulous. 

And when I had a crush on a girl and came out for the first time as a lesbian and then i immediately fell super hard for a boy and felt fake for YEARS. I never even tried looking inwards again -- if I wasn’t actually dating anyone then it didn’t matter, right? If I got together with a girl, then I could “come out”, I guess. And if I got together with a boy it wouldn’t matter, right? Who cares about what you feel or think in the privacy of your own head if you don’t really want to share, anyway? 

Did anyone else decide to never put any kind of label on yourself because then you could never fail to live up to that label? 

My parents used to say please just sit like a person and I always said I’m not a person.  

Does it matter? Does it make sense? To come out when you want nothing to change? 

My sexuality in the abstract has never seemed important to me, just to others. When I’ve fallen in love, it hasn’t mattered if I was lesbian, or bisexual, or straight. I, this person, was in love with someone, that person. How did my “sexuality” play into that? 

I never liked talking about my crushes to even my close friends, so why should I announce my sexuality to the whole world?

Ah yes, nice weather we’re having today - Yes, that’s true and also by the way I’m bisexual! - Uhm, okay? What do you want me to do with that information? - Oh nothing I guess.

Ah yes, nice weather we’re having today - Yes, that’s true and also by the way I’m maybe not really a girl? I haven’t decided and I don’t think I ever will. - Uhm, okay? What do you want me to do with that information? - Oh nothing I guess. - Do you go by they/them now? - Oh, not really, I don’t mind what pronouns you use. And I’m not going to change my presentation, I’ve figured out what I like. You don’t need to do anything, I just want to plant this confusing bit of information in your brain which I want to have no impact on how we interact because-------eh?

I love my partner, I look the way I want, and I live the life I chose. 

I don’t owe anyone a set of labels, and trying to figure them out has caused me nothing but misery.

I call myself queer, because it’s an expression of political intent, not because it’s a label that defines me. I call myself queer because everyone should be allowed to love who they love, look how they want, and live the way they chose. I call myself queer because to understand what that really means, to understand what that says about me, requires that you loosen the grip normative heterosexuality has on you for a moment. If I tell you I’m not straight -- I leave you unaffected in your straightness. If I tell you I’m not cis -- I leave you unaffected in your cis-ness. 

I’m not “not like you”. 

By being queer, by denying the application of the categories that makes sense in the gender binary to at least one person out there, I want to make a statement not about the thoughts feelings I have in the privacy of my own head -- which I am under no obligation to ever share and categorize -- but about the world around me.