#just a note: if I've said before that I'm working on a prompt it *will* be finished eventually

[saltymongoose]

Lovebug is back!

Size difference is the big idea!A Player who actually likes being smaller than almost everyone in Nevada and uses it to their advantage! What if the player used their smaller, non-threatening-ish appearance to pull enemies into a state of confusion before letting their boys go to town? That was the idea originally. But, then I thought it would also be fun to just have a player who loves being surrounded by powerful people (there is a sprinkle of liking to be intimidated in there as well).

Sure, they may be the most powerful being in Nevada, but if they weren't, most of the people they came across could snap them like a twig. And having their grunts constantly surrounding them is like a dream come true! It makes them feel protected and safe.

(If one of their vessels ever does the lean against the wall thing next to them, they'll pass out.)

Size difference is so much fun to dabble with!

Do you have any favorite size difference headcanons?

I'm sorry if this is long, it's not really an ask. But you write so well! It never ceases to amaze me! You make all of your posts so detailed and I love hearing your opinion on these!

Thank you for all that you do! You're a gift to the fandom!

~Lovebug Anon

Hey there Lovebug Anon <3, it's about time I get around to answering your wonderful prompts. This is a very, very late response (I believe this ask was originally sent around April ((⊙_⊙')) to give everyone an idea), so I sincerely apologize. That being said, thank you for the compliments in this ask, I appreciate your kind words more than you could know. :') ❤️

[SAM:PN] General Height Difference Headcanons ft. Hank, Deimos, Sanford, & 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior. This is pretty fluffy.)

It was clear to you from the moment you first met that the height difference between you and your vessels was staggering. They towered over you, no matter how short they would be considered by grunt standards. To their enemies, it only served to make them more intimidating (especially for those like Hank, which were well above the ordinary height typically found in their species).

However, in your eyes, it couldn’t be anything but beneficial. Being as short as you were (compared to them, at least), gave you a clear advantage when it came to being on the battlefield. With your grunts obscuring the view of your enemies, you could rest easy knowing that the likelihood of you actually being targeted when controlling them was very small. Plus, if anyone did see you first, the confusion of being met with such a small form would give your grunts the perfect opportunity to ambush.

Other than this though, there was admittedly some personal enjoyment you took in being surrounded by such tall, powerful people. You couldn't help it; the feeling of absolute comfort and safety you got from being near them and knowing that they wouldn't allow anything bad to happen to you was just unmatched.

Plus, a part of you simply liked how they loomed over you, as odd as it sounded. It's the same one that made you blush when they leaned in close to you, and the one that made your heart quiver in your chest when they wrapped an arm around your body in a casual gesture. They didn't even mean to fluster you when it happened, and truth be told, this made it slightly embarrassing for you. Yet even so, you couldn't stop yourself from reacting this way; you just liked how tall they were compared to you, that is all. (It wasn't exactly a bad thing, anyway.)

Your vessels all have their own thoughts on your height difference though.

Beginning with Hank, he sees height as being a tool for intimidation, and one that’s very easy for him to use specifically. As the tallest of your vessels, he’s aware of the fact that your enemies are more likely to be scared of him just because of how he stands out like this (barring his reputation as Nevada’s most dangerous mass murderer, of course).

Other than this, Hank has very little regard for it. It makes scaring people easier, but it wasn’t something he focused on; such a natural thing that required absolutely no effort from him didn’t deserve such consideration when he was so busy with other, more pressing matters. However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t notice how you reacted to it.

Hank pays more attention to you than anything else, so of course his attention is peaked by the way you blink up at him with soft doe eyes when he leans a bit closer to you, and the flush that appears on your face as his taller form takes up more of your space. He doesn’t know why you act like that at first, and honestly at the moment he doesn’t care to ask that question. Not when he’s too entranced by the way you look, appearing so adorably mystified by his form for whatever reason.

He figures it out soon enough though, and once he does, he grows to appreciate his natural height far more than before. As the tallest, and having the most noticeable height difference with you, it is rather simple for him to elicit these reactions from you, and he finds that he loves doing it.

He’ll try to be around you a lot after that, and as close as he can manage, no matter what the others might think. (Making them jealous was just another bonus for him.) He’ll lean over you and tug you into him, covering your body with his as he purrs and takes in your cute gasps and how your face warms. Instead of simply staying next to you, he’ll be as imposing on your space as is comfortable for you both, seeking to try and accentuate the difference in your height. (Which, again, is very easy. You barely reach his chest, just which makes you more cute in his eyes.)

Another bonus to being the tallest of your vessels is that it makes him the best candidate for your main protector, at least in Hank's view. He's technically the person in the best position to protect you from view and shield you from harm, simply because he's so much bigger than you. If anything, this further proves that he was made to be yours, and to be your only necessary vessel. With how much you seemed to like your height difference, and how he was made better at protecting you because of it (far more than anyone else), it was only common sense.

On the other hand, Deimos likely didn’t notice your reactions to his height at first, but it was purely because he was too busy fawning over how short you are compared to him. He was the last on the list of your vessels in terms of height, and while he certainly wasn’t insecure about it, he was pretty happy to experience what it was like to have someone smaller than him in almost every way. The fact that it was you made it all the more special, though.

Deimos is the first to actually tease you over your height difference, but in a purely joking kind of way. He’ll rest an elbow on your head or quickly put something you need on a higher shelf before you come into the room, just so he can be the first to offer you help. Verbal teases are to be expected as well, mainly asking if you need help reaching something when you clearly don’t, or calling you "shawty" (because he heard you say that word once, and of course he'd repeat it afterward).

Once he actually notices how you react when he leans in close to tell you a joke or give you a side-hug, his teases take another direction. Simple jokes turn become more pointed; instead of just mentioning your height in a joking way, it's the difference between you that he'll seek to exploit - and not for mere humor anymore.

So he'll lean a bit closer than you both know is necessary, rest a bit more of his body on you when he gives you an embrace, and linger like that for longer than what would be normal. In addition to this, he also already knows how much you like his voice too, so he decides to see what’ll happen if he combines these two factors. 

It’s honestly kind of overwhelming for you; having him suddenly get into your personal space when you're doing something simple like making yourself a meal, boxing you in with his arms and leaning some of his weight on you. His body heat is almost dizzying, and it certainly doesn't help the rushing pace of your heart when he comes even closer, so you can feel his breath against you when he purrs an innocent question about what you're doing (though it's followed by a petname rasped lowly into your ear).

Perhaps it's playing dirty since he's deliberately using something you can't help liking against you, and honestly, a part of him considers holding back on it. (He loves flustering you like this, but he wouldn't want to overstep and make you uncomfortable instead.) And he would, if you didn't lean back into him when he did it, sometimes even burying your face into his chest to try and hide your blushing face from him (which is just adorable to him). You seem to like these little moments, and of course he does, so why would he stop?

If anything, the fact that he can elicit such reactions with the combination of his height and smooth voice (something that he sees as unique to himself) is just another tool he can use to get you to fall for him. All so that you'll love him and his company just as much as he loves yours.

Sanford is another one who noticed how you get when he’s close, but at first, he didn’t think it was because you liked his height of all things. In all honesty, he probably just thought that the fact that he’s always shirtless is what flusters you so much since nobody else in your group shows off as much skin as he does. Then he takes note of how you react when any of them get into close contact with you and it clicks.

He’s actually above average in height from grunt standards, but it’s not something he pays much attention to. Sure, other prospective partners have mentioned it in the past, but as weird as it sounds, no one's opinion on him has mattered as much as yours does, so he’s honestly very flattered. It makes him pretty bashful too; he knows his musculature makes him stand out more than anything, but having the person he adores fawn over something so minuscule to him must be a good sign for your impending relationship, right?

Getting close to you and showing off his strength through carrying you are things that he does quite a lot, even before figuring out how much you like your height difference. As such, you've just incentivized him to do it more often. After all, if you enjoy having the height difference between you both made to be really noticeable, then there's no reason for him not to.

Sanford also finds the way you look when he does it to be really cute; you appear so small compared to him when you're being held to his body, all cozy and safe in his toned arms. Your face is flushed, and he can feel your breath hitch when he adjusts you in his grip, your fingers flexing from where they're rested on his shoulder and chest.

He worries that he overdoes it sometimes, since you both know that picking you up as much as he does is pretty unnecessary (like those few times he just elected to do it instead of getting something off a shelf for you). You don't mention it though, just content to lean into his embraces with a crooked smile, sighing happily even as your face heats. Sanford hopes the way his heartbeat picks up isn't too noticeable. (It's not like he can care that much though, not when he dares to squeeze you to him a bit tighter and you relax even more in his hold.)

Sanford eventually finds that he also quite likes the difference you have (perhaps even a bit too much, in his mind). You’re usually too flustered to notice, but when you do, it’s impossible to ignore the way scarlet colors his cheeks and dusts his torso when you find yourself in his personal space (even if he's trying to keep his face impassive as usual). It's cute, for someone who's famous for such unsavory things.

The height difference also makes a deeper feeling of protectiveness surge up in him. You might be one of the most powerful beings in Nevada, but you just look so small and fragile compared to grunts. Sanford was already dedicated to defending you at every turn, but this just makes it more important for him in a way (if that were even possible). He wants you to rely on him as your protector, and what better way to do that than showing off his strength and how he can use his more imposing stature for your benefit?

He's always been yours to control; always ready and willing to give anything and everything of himself just for you and your favor, all with the hopes of you returning these deep affections he holds. So why not just use him and him alone?

With 2BDamned, his fascination with your height difference first comes from a purely clinical perspective. He’s been interested in human anatomy since your existence first became known to him, and wants to learn all that he can in regards to anything related to it. (How would he be competent at taking care of you if he didn’t know anything about your species?)

As such, he’ll view it as another opportunity to ask about the differences between you. Are you considered tall or short according to your species’ average? Why are humans so short compared to grunts? Are there any advantages to humans being so small? Questions like these are his main focus, and in addition to this, the fact that humans are so small will also make him more concerned for your well-being when out in the field.

(Sanford, Deimos, and Hank are becoming quite annoyed at how often he checks in through their comms to see if you're alright. What did he think they were, 1337 Agents? Of course you were okay, you had them.)

Considering how he spends less time around you than the others (when you’re not back at the base, that is), he doesn’t have as many opportunities to really look at his own height difference with you. Nor does he take much notice of how you might react to it as a result, which holds off his realization of it.

This changes with the first of his rushed “examinations” on you, after you happened to get a bit scratched up while on a mission with the others. He was standing very close to you, hands darting over your body as he carefully moved your limbs around, checking for bruising and bleeding while harshly lecturing your three main vessels.

Doc first thought the color on your face and the heat that seeped through his gloves when he touched your face was from exertion or pain, a sign of an injury that he might’ve missed. That's until he notices that it only gets worse when he comes closer to inspect you further, inadvertently looming over you as he leans down to get closer to your face. It only hits him when you avert your eyes from him shyly, lips drawing into a small pout as you try to hide the full extent of your blush from him. (It's embarrassing, all he's doing is checking you over for injuries.)

He seemed to pause for a split second when he noticed but quickly got back into ranting towards the others about their "neglect" of you, trying to ignore the way he could feel a smile spreading across his face underneath his mask. So that's why you're so flushed around them.

Doc is very tempted to see how far he can go with it, to view just how you react to the different ways he can show off his height difference with you. But he doesn't. Or rather, he won’t go to the same lengths that others would; he's confident enough in himself, generally speaking, but the uncertainty he feels regarding how to go about bonding with you will hold him back from going all out (as much as he'd like to).

That doesn’t mean that he won’t stand a little bit nearer to you, or stay for a few seconds too long when he needs to lean over you to reach something - perhaps even take a leaf from Deimos' book and say something to you in that smooth voice of his when he's so close - but anything beyond that is unlikely. (Unless driven as a direct reaction to one of the others pulling something, of course).

It's a more subtle build-up with him, but that's how he prefers to show his love to you anyway. The last thing he'd want to do is rush in impulsively and foolishly ruin things between you, especially after that unfortunate first impression he made. Besides, 2BDamned has always been incredibly patient, and you'd be worth an eternity of pining while he decides on what actions to take. So long as he can prove himself good enough to you in the end, worthy of your love and praise, he'd be willing.

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[vivid-ink]

Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"

fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)

Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...

Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!

Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan

And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.

You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.

“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”

A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.

When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.

Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.

You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.

You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.

“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”

“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.

Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”

A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.

The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”

With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.

Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.

The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.

The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.

A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”

His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.

You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”

Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.

“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.

“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”

Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”

He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.

He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.

“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.

He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”

Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…

Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.

You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”

You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.

“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.

“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…

“It was self-stimulated.”

“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”

“Female. Definitely female.”

His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.

He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.

The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.

Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.

Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”

“Sure.”

Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.

“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”

You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”

Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.

Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.

“What’s the next part?”

“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”

“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”

You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.

You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.

Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”

Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.

“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.

Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.

You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”

“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.

You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.

Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”

A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”

Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.

You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.

The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.

The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.

It was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…

You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.

You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.

“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.

He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”

“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.

“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.

“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.

Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.

Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…

Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”

“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.

You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.

You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.

All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…

You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.

So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.

Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.

You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…

A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”

A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”

Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.

He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”

“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.

Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”

One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.

With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.

He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.

You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.

Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.

The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.

Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…

Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.

Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”

His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”

“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.

“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”

A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…

[tripleyeeet]

THE ROGUE TAX (2)

SUMMARY: Fed up with paying Astarion to pick all the locks, you force yourself to learn the hard way.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 2,635

WARNINGS: Short nightmare sequence, too much sexual tension, slight mentions of a handkink, inappropriate lock pick teaching.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm posting these super early but day two of the Haunted Hoedown! This time the prompt is "finders keepers!" I honestly had so much fun with this one, so hopefully all the new Astarion fans that've followed me in the last day enjoy? Love you guys. :))))

Also I was originally going to make all of these challenge fics separate but I've since decided to make it more of a connected fic so... that's a thing now? I'll link the last chapter below!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

“I wasn’t aware you were so proficient at lock picking.” 

You smirk at Astarion’s false praise, busying your hands against the lock’s mechanism. You’ve only been at it for five or six, maybe seven tops but you can already tell it’ll be a while. The lock itself is tough; covered in a layer of thick rust. Plus, being that it’s a chest and not a door, it’s a bit more advanced than you’re used to.

“Yes, well, not all of us are vampires that can woo their way through a padlock.” 

In response, Astarion laughs, throwing his head back so dramatically that from the corner of your eye, it looks as if he’s lost his head for a moment. “You do realize who you’re talking to, correct?”

You hum out a response and push the short hook further in, feeling the pressure of a loose pin hit the end. When that happens, you grin to yourself and slide closer to the chest, biting your bottom lip in excitement. 

Over the last few weeks, you and the rest of the group had come upon some interesting findings. A cave inside a well, a few hidden cellars around the surrounding the goblin camp, a hidden chest or two. At first, it was exciting, getting to experience the joys of a good treasure hunt but quickly such feelings fell once you discovered how difficult it was to break into said things without the help of Astarion and his seemingly magic hands.

“I know you’re excited to prove yourself, darling, but why don’t you let me finish things off, hm? It’ll go a lot quicker.” 

You shake your head and continue your ministrations, carefully pushing the hook further in, feeling that alleviated pressure of another pin. “I’m tired of relying on you and your bloody rogue tax.” 

After agreeing that Astarion would just pick every lock your party found for a price, it was evident he was more than willing to take more than he was owed. Saying things like I did all the work or you wouldn’t be here if not for me, it was obvious he was exploiting you. Using his roguish charms to earn himself a bigger cut despite doing next to nothing else. 

It was frustrating, to say the least. Another minor annoyance to add to his long list of negative personality traits, and lately you were determined to combat it. To learn the trade for yourself so that every piece of treasure found could remain solely yours. 

“I’m sure everyone is but that’s the price you pay for a professional.” 

You roll your eyes and continue to fiddle, feeling his gaze glued to the positioning of your hands —how your fingers tighten and twist around the metal instrument. 

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you at least a little bit nervous —having his eyes on you. Across your palms, you can feel the slick of sweat collecting with each new movement, while behind you, you can practically feel Astarion’s judgement throughout, silently picking apart all of your mistakes. 

“You’re doing—“

You shush him angrily before he can continue, knowing he’s trying to break your concentration. Knowing that he thinks that if he can prove to be enough of a distraction you’ll end up slipping up and giving in. 

“I was just going to tell you about the wonderful job you’re doing.” His tone is laced with sarcasm. Drenched in a thick layer of impatience that has you groaning under your breath. 

“Isn’t there someone else you can bother?”

“No.”

You know there is. In the other room of the abandoned building you currently find yourselves in, at least four other people are rooting through the rubble. Most likely they’re stationed in their usual areas. Gale’s probably next to the stack of bookshelves with Karlach, telling her all about his collection back at the camp while Wyll and Shadowheart are searching through the cellar in hopes of more wine. 

“You sure?”

For a moment you debate telling him to go keep watch with Lae’zel just so that he’ll shut up but the thought dissipates once you feel him flop onto the floor beside you with a groan. 

“Everyone else is so dull,” he complains. His line of slight flickers between your face and hands, watching the way they remain almost too still as he speaks. “They’re all do this do that, and for what?”

You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, unsure of what he means.

“They’re all living for other people, darling. Other causes. Everything they do serves a higher purpose and for that reason alone, they’re boring.”

Despite your previous determination your hands release themselves from the padlock before you find yourself readjusting —moving to plop down next to him. “You think everyone’s boring because they’re selfless?”

“Predictable,” he corrects, pointing a loose finger in your direction. “All of them talk too much about a future that may not even come considering we’re infected and have little idea on how to remedy the situation.” 

You’re not sure where this rant is coming from but you welcome it considering it’s been weeks since you’ve had a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around mapping or looting or combat. Weeks since you’ve taken a moment to learn about the people you find yourself in constant contact with. 

“Some people just don’t like looking back.” 

There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes when you respond as if he wasn’t expecting such an answer. Or really, maybe an answer at all. All at once his face seems to rise in thought, taking a moment to absorb the words before he hums in response, pursing his lips. “Yes, well, I suppose some people don’t have a past worth running from.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The tadpole behind your eye wriggles for his attention before you can even think to suppress it. Working to pull him in as you stare at one another, narrowing your eyes at the sudden cerebral contact. At first, he’s reluctant. You can feel the pushing sensation suggesting that you stop. That you should stick to the confines of your own mind rather than pestering him, but quicker than you can move away to agree, it’s as if you’re sucked back in again. Pulled by the very thread of your own brain matter to see flashes of a life you assume to be his.

The first thing you see is candlelight. A flickering of warm hues that dance across wooden interiors. It’s almost dizzying the way the light shifts across your vision, forcing you to close your eyes. Next to you, you can hear Astarion breathing heavily. Deep inhales followed by even deeper exhales that you swiftly use as a metronome to carry your focus. To aid your tadpole’s connection. 

Swallowing hard, you listen to the beats of his breath, feeling them take over your chest as the vision in front of you grows to reveal bits of cobblestone. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of scuttling feet. The dripping of water. A hungry growl followed by an even hungrier gnaw of flesh that squelches on your tongue. 

You can taste the iron —feel the fur and bones of an unknown animal brush against your lips and gums. All of it swirls around your mouth like a tornado of overstimulating sensations, forcing the vision to pass as you reach for your throat, coughing up nothing but your own spit despite how real it feels. 

It’s apparent then what Astarion means. That some people aren’t always blessed with the privilege of running away. That people like him don’t have the means of calling upon allies to aid them through the awful shit that is reality. 

Even with such little context, you can sense through his tadpole that he’s alone in this life. Alone before the Illithid —alone now. And more than likely, he’ll be alone after it’s all over, in death or otherwise. 

Rubbing your throat —trying your best to get rid of the tainted feeling of skin and bone from your mouth, you feel empathy rather than sympathy. An understanding of his words as you look toward him, noticing the far-off look in his eye before he blinks and travels back.

“I only showed you that to save the explanation,” he says, and whether or not it’s true you merely just nod, welcoming the silence. The tranquil hush of two people attempting to navigate the other. 

It doesn’t last long. In between, there are a few moments of background noise. The sound of echoing footsteps and muffled voices. You know it’s the others looting just as you should be, but neither of you moves to join until Astarion eventually clears his throat, signalling change. 

“Anyway, they’re all in their own worlds, coasting on the wings of optimism.” He flicks his hand around the air while rolling his eyes. “It’s disgusting and partly why I choose your company above theirs.” 

Letting yourself fall back into your usual, somewhat antagonistic rhythm, you give him a curious look. “Partly, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he quips, the edge of his lip twitching into that usual grin of his. “The other part is the potential of your blood, darling.”

“Ah yes. And here I was assuming you were just following me around so that you could steal my treasure.”

Both of your eyes move back to the unbroken padlock. It’s the only thing in this room that seems to be worth either of your time and Astarion knows it. It’s why he’s been so keen on your failure. 

“You know, I could help you if you like. Show you a thing or two so that the next time this happens you don’t have to rely on me.”

It’s tempting, even if you know that you’ll be taxed to all hell. Whatever spoils you find will ultimately be cut in half and, more than likely, he’ll sweeten the deal for himself by claiming first pick. 

“What’s the price?”

He shoots you a look of offence, clutching his chest. “My dear, I’d never dare put a price on the education of thievery.”

You hold back a grin, pressing your lips together, watching the way he quickly springs into action, motioning for you to hand him your tools. When you do he begins to explain the process, showcasing all the tips and tricks against the air with careful precision. Which would be helpful if you weren’t so focused on his hands rather than his words. On the way they curl around the handles of your tools, tightening with every gesture performed. 

Astarion’s got nicer hands than most. Long and thin and surprisingly well-manicured for someone who spends most of his time in the forest or drinking the blood of unsuspecting animals. And guiltily enough staring at them so intently just reminds you of that night he drained your neck. 

You can still feel the pressure of his fingers against your head. The way they roughly cupped you like a goblet of wine. Despite the fear in that moment, you’re now able to look back at that memory almost fondly. A moment of potential weakness for you somehow became a moment of trust for him and as a result, here you were now, acting almost friendly amid a terrible situation. 

It makes you grin, prompting Astarion to stop his explanation and narrow his eyes. 

“Are you even listening?”

“Hm?”

There’s a knowing glance that befalls his face then. A transition of clarity that has his mouth opening and closing before he hands you your tools. “Might be best if we take a more hands on approach.” 

You look at him confused, letting the hooks in your hand lazily rest in your palm as you watch him hop to his knees and begin to guide you. 

“I want you to do exactly what you were doing before, alright? Use the hook to push the pins.” 

Despite your continued confusion, you follow his position by kneeling in front of the chest and popping the hook into the hole, digging around the darkened space until you feel the shift of that first pin. 

“Got it?” You spare him a glance and a nod, watching him crawl towards you, positioning his chest firmly against your back before reaching out to hold your wrists. “Now, take that other hook of yours and situate it at the base of the barrel.”

Doing exactly that, you feel his fingers slowly slip over yours, navigating you through the trials of getting that second pin to shift as the barrel turns in your grasp. At first, it’s difficult. Mostly because all you can focus on is the breath that hits the side of your face. The heat of the air that travels down your spine in nervous waves you’re almost certain he can feel. But then you’re reminded that you’ve been here before; stuck within his heated grasp. 

“That’s it. Just like that.” 

You’re practically holding your breath as you find that third pin, feeling Astarion’s hand shift you in the right direction before you lose it at the last second. Ever so gently, his chest shifts upwards against your back so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder to get a better look. A newfound weight that makes you close your eyes and release a bit of air from your nose, realizing how intimate this is. 

Somehow it feels even more personal than letting him feed off of you. Perhaps because the bloodsucking was for his own benefit, knowing Astarion, moments like that where he’s able to take rather than give mean next to nothing to him. They’re just moments of manipulation. A series of tactical steps he takes to get whatever he wants whereas this is different. This is for you. 

You’re not sure how to describe it other than an offering of trust. Maybe it’s a token of appreciation for letting him consume. Maybe it’s nothing more than a game to make you squirm beneath his grasp. Either or, it’s an experience you know you’ll be thinking of for days to come, attempting to decipher its intent.

“Once you feel that final pin I want you to ease it in gently, alright? Be delicate.” 

You offer him no response as you listen to his words. If you did, you’re certain he’d make some offhand comment that would only further the lewdness of it all, grinning like the mischievous prick he is. 

“After that, you should feel a little shift and —voilà!” 

The chest clicks open. Your breath releases in a long, much-needed stream but Astarion makes no effort to move from your frame. Instead, he continues to cling to your hands, angling his chin so that when you eventually look at him you’re practically touching noses. 

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“It’s that easy?”

Slowly but surely he slips from your frame with a nod, his hands sliding across the expanse of your sleeves, coating your skin in a wave of goosebumps as he moves to stand. “Yes, but keep it hush, hush. Wouldn’t want the others to find out, would we?”

You shake your head, a small smile creeping across your lips as you then turn towards your reward, gripping both edges of the lid before pushing it up. Inside there are only a few items. A few spell scrolls and some fabric but it’s enough to get you excited regardless, realizing that it’s yours.

“Not bad for your first go.” Peeking over your shoulder, Astarion watches as you sift through everything carefully, unrolling each scroll to read the details before looking back up and raising a brow. 

“You sure there’s no tax?” you ask, but all he does is laugh and shake his head. 

“Finders keepers, darling. As I promised.” 

[withloveajaxx]

are you forgetting something?

𓂅 genre: modern! childe, scaramouche, diluc, and xiao x gn! reader fluff

𓂅 warnings: none 

𓂅 summary: how they react when you forget to kiss them or say "i love you" back to them before you leave 

𓂅 notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONEE. here's some smol hcs to kick off 2023 hehe. i've never really written for scaramouche before so forgive me if his characterization is a little off for this fic :"D i'm trying to slowly get back into writing for genshin so i'm going with a classic, fluffy crack prompt that i've always felt like writing ^^ hope you guys enjoy and have a wonderful day ahead!! 

CHILDE

he's dropping you off at your friend's house for your little night out and your rushing to belatedly make yourself a little more presentable 

childe can't help but chuckle when you turn to him asking, "what do you think? do i look alright?" 

"you look beautiful as always, love. now go get in there before your late."

he leans his cheek closer to you, expecting a goodbye peck when you open the door to get out. "take care and call me when you need to get picked up, alright?" when you hum in response he adds, "love you!" 

"yup! see you, ajax!" you reply, getting out and shutting the door. at this, childe is offended, jaw dropping at the lack of a reply and a kiss. 

he thinks this is completely unacceptable. mans literally honks his horn aggressively until you come back to the car, brows furrowed in wordless confusion. 

"excuse me?" he questions you, rolling down the window with a faux pout on his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. "are you forgetting something?" 

cheeky bastard taps his cheek with raised brows in part question and part demand. "i said i love you too, you know?" 

you can't help but laugh at his absurd behaviour, leaning into the window to finally plant a kiss on his awaiting cheek. his charming smile finally makes its way back onto his features when you accompany your gesture with a, "love you too." 

"mhm. now get in there and have fun. i'll see you later, love.". he can't help the slight blush that dusts his freckle filled cheeks when you peck him one last time, just for good measure, before heading inside the house. god he was so whipped for you. 

SCARAMOUCHE

when you're rushing to leave your shared apartment for a class you were running late for one day, scara is suffering on the couch with his laptop on, research document open and empty. 

he eyes you as you're rushing to gather all your bags and other belongings, making sure you don't trip or hurt yourself in a rush from a distance. 

once you finally have all your things, you turn to see scara, who is already glaring at the blank document on his laptop. 

in usual fashion, he hears you greet him a goodbye with, "i'm heading out now. see you later, kuni." 

in an unusual fashion however, he doesn't hear the familiar and cheerful "i love you!" that escapes your lips once you open the door. 

he coughs loudly and repeatedly when you put even a single foot out the door and levels you with a look that screams "are you stupid?" 

"what?" you ask him obliviously, rechecking all your bags and documents before also asking, "am i forgetting something?"

"yeah. a really important thing," he comments with an unreadably, deadpan face. when a confused silence is all he gets in reply, he sighs, narrowing his eyes at you with a light blush blooming across his cheeks.

"don't make me say it.". it's only then that you realize what you forgot, smiling and laughing lightheartedly with amusement. 

"you're cute kuni." his cheeks flush brighter at the statement. "i love you and take care!". he returns your greeting with an exasparated sigh and a light nod before you go rushing out the door, unable to witness the smallest smile that creeps onto his lips.

DILUC

it's a daily routine for you guys to get ready for school/work together and greet each other with a goodbye kiss once you part ways. 

on a particular day when you had a really important presentation, the walk to your usual parting point was enveloped in a comfortable silence. 

diluc simply held your hand and let you practice your presentation, muttering unintelligible words and phrases under your breath. 

when you finally get to parting ways, diluc takes a moment to encourage you for your presentation. 

"good luck with your speech today, darling. i know you can do it. i'll see you when i get home alright?"

you nod absentmindedly, smiling before routinely pecking diluc's cheek. "mhm. have a good day, luc." 

when you start to walk away, he grabs your wrist gently and unexpectedly, turning you to face him once more. 

"yes, luc?" you ask curiously, intertwining your fingers with his own gingerly. 

"you're forgetting something, love," he chuckles lightly, squeezing your intertwined hands gently. "i love you." 

a soft smile adorns both your features as you give diluc a lingering kiss before replying with your own "i love you", regrettingly parting ways afterwards. 

XIAO

both you and xiao are walking into the school's campus. after a mundane lunch, it was time for both of you to part ways and get to classes. 

he accompanies you to your class, walking with you hand in hand in the school's surprisingly free hallways.

the short stroll is accompanied by a comfortable silence, the lack of a crowd of students creating a peaceful atmosphere. 

it's only when you arrive at your lecture hall that xiao loosens his hold on your hand, gesturing for you to go inside. 

your friends are excitedly waving at you from the other side of the hall, thus you hurry to get to them.

"i'll see you later, okay?" you squeeze his hand reassuringly before looking at your friends with a glimmer of excitement. "bye, xiao!" 

the moment you let go of his hand without your usual goodbye kiss or at least an 'i love you', his hand subconsciously reaches out for yours once again. 

thankfully, you take notice of his action and turn to him once more with a quizzical look on your face. "is something wrong?" you ask him.

he wants to say something about you forgetting to give him a kiss but the thought of saying something so sappy makes his face heat up in embarrassment. you can tell he wants to say something by the unsure look in his eyes, but he holds himself back, shaking his head. "nothing. you should head to class." 

the blush gives him off entirely because you can read him like an open book. his heart skips multiple beats when you lean in and plant a brief kiss on his cheek with a wide smile. "there. love you, and see you later, okay?". his cheeks flare up even more as he replies, "mhm. love you too…"

© withloveajaxx 2023. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.

[sunkissed-zegras]

"it's 2am. you can't keep coming over this late." / "why? you're never asleep either." with luke! 🌱 ty

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 873

♡ ─ warnings | luke not feeling like he's good enough, y/n cheers him up

♡ ─ ev's notes | i hope y'all enjoyed!

You heard a soft knock on your dorm room door, prompting a quiet sigh to escape your lips. Setting aside your textbook, you rose from your chair and made your way to the door, its hinges creaking softly as you opened it. The sight of a tall, curly-haired figure standing outside didn't surprise you.

"Luke? It's 2 am. You can't keep coming over this late," you remarked with a hint of exasperation.

Luke merely shrugged in response. "Why not? You're never asleep either."

You crossed your arms, shooting Luke a disapproving look. "That doesn't mean anything," you replied, glancing at the dimly lit hallway to make sure no one else was disturbed by the noise.

Luke leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. "Come on, I brought snacks," he said, holding up your favorite chips and soda.

Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn't resist a small smile. "You're lucky I'm hungry." You muttered, stepping aside to let him in. As he entered, you couldn't help but notice the tired look in his eyes.

"What's going on?" You asked, closing the door behind him.

Luke flopped down onto your roommate's unoccupied bed, letting out a sigh. "Couldn't sleep. Thought we could hang out for a bit," he admitted, popping open a soda can.

You sighed, realizing that something was bothering him. "Alright, what's up, Luke? What's on your mind?" you asked, taking a seat across from him.

Luke hesitated as he looked up to meet your gaze. He sighed and shook his head, he couldn't hide anything from you no matter how hard he tried.

"I just..." He started, not knowing exactly where to begin. "Everything is happening too quickly. I feel I just started at Michigan and now everyone's sayin' I'm going to New Jersey, that my future's so bright but... I don't know." He shrugged again, nervously bouncing his leg against the bed.

You leaned forward, your expression softening with empathy. "It's a big step, Luke," you said gently, "Leaving behind what's familiar and stepping into something new can be scary."

His restless leg slowed as he listened, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "Yeah, exactly," he replied, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's what I've been working towards, but... it's just hitting me all at once, you know?"

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. "I know but everyone knows you're gonna do great, you're already the star of Michigan, you're gonna the star on the Devils, too."

Luke stayed quiet for a moment before letting out a sigh. "What if I'm not?" His voice was quiet as he spoke, he sounded so vulnerable. "Everyone thinks I'm gonna do great things, just like Jack and Quinn but what if I can't? What if I'm not as good as them? What if it all goes downhill after this?"

Taking a moment to choose your words carefully, you reached out to gently place a hand on his. "Luke, listen to me," you began, your voice steady and reassuring. "You are not your brothers, and you don't need to be. You're your own person, with your own talents and strengths."

Luke's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his thoughts seemingly trapped in a whirlwind of anxiety. "But what if I'm not good enough?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your grip on his hand tightened slightly, your reassurance unwavering. "You are more than good enough, Luke. What if it all doesn't go downhill? What if this is the start of something great, Luke? You're great at hockey and everyone knows that, that's never gonna disappear."

Luke's eyes slowly lifted to meet yours, a hint of vulnerability still lingering in his gaze. As you continued to hold his hand, you spoke with determination.

"You've worked endlessly to get to where you are, and that's not by accident," you said, your words carrying a sense of belief. "You've earned every opportunity because of your skill and passion for the game."

He took in your words, and a subtle shift occurred in his expression. "What if I disappoint everyone?" Luke questioned, his doubt still present.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You won't, Luke. You've got a support system that believes in you, not just because of your last name but because of who you are. And if there are tough times, we'll face them together, okay?"

Luke's lips curved into a small smile as he gazed at you, your heart flipping as he looked at you like you were the best thing in the entire world.

"Okay," Luke replied, his smile growing more genuine.

Encouraged by his response, you leaned back, your hands now resting on your own lap. "Look, no one expects you to have it all figured out," you continued. "What matters is that you're taking steps forward, and we're all here for each other through it all."

The tension in Luke's shoulders seemed to ease further, and he nodded in agreement. "I'm lucky to have you around, you know?" he admitted, his voice sincere.

"Yeah, you are." You said in a joking manner, causing a quiet chuckle to come out of Luke's mouth. "Now, do you wanna watch some movies?"

"Yeah, let's do it."

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

(short continuation to the prompt I wrote, which is linked below. I thought I was done with this, but then @victoria-has-no-secret and @bluerosefox had some ideas to incorporate into it. Screenshots of said ideas are also below but are sprinkled throughout the post too.)

(*) = Me building off of other ideas

TW: mentions of animal death

← previous

✦

After the whole fiasco with the Justice League, Danny gets an idea. Not very many people actually know about Laika, at least from what he could see of the majority of the Justice League who had never learned about her. Although, to be fair, a lot of them come from different planets. Either way, it gives Danny the idea to create a YouTube channel starring Laika to teach the people of Earth about the pup.

The channel immediately garners attention from all around the world, and even winds up on a couple of news stations too! It grows so much that Danny decides to expand further than just Laika, but to the other things that were sent into space in the quest for knowledge: The space rovers as well as many other animals.

Laika even leads Danny to them as he ventures further into space with a specially made camera that can withstand traversing space and the differing atmosphereic conditions of other planets. He manages to find every single one of them, discovering that maybe Laika hadn't been as alone as he'd first thought as he watches and records her playing with the spirits (imprints?) of the rovers, chimps, mice, and many other animals haunting the endless void of the cosmos.

People back on earth are going wild with the knowledge that their hopes, thoughts, and feelings helped to give life to beings that had long been dead/stopped working. They have no idea what to feel about this new information except an amalgamation of pure awe, curiosity, joy, guilt, and sadness. They still mourned the loss of Laika, the rovers, and everyone before and after them, but knowing that their existence wasn't completely lost soothed an ache many didn't know they carried with them when they were there to witness the beginning of such astronomical leaps in technology.

To also know that out of the many stars shooting across the sky, one of them might be Laika happily racing amongst the stars with her friends brought many to tears. At every opportunity, they wished for the sweet pup's happiness and the continuing health of their own furry companions down on Earth with them. They also wished that upon the eventuality that they have to part with their companions that maybe a few of them would join Laika and her friends in stars to keep them company for many years to come.

Although many of these wishes were heard by Desiree, she refused to touch such hopeful and well-meaning wishes for fear of twisting them in unseemly ways, allowing them to form on their own. The other ghosts among Danny's rouges even made a deal with each other to not interfere or attack the town when Danny was recording his videos out in space.

It was beyond bad manners to interfere with another ghost's obsession, after all.

✦

I'm gonna go cry some more. I've learned more about the progress of space exploration in the past couple hours than I probably should. This is the last thing I'm adding onto this prompt. If any of y'all wanna continue it, be my guest!

Notes:

(*) One more thing to add. Where are the ghost hunters/Guys in White during all of this? If they start making a fuss over Phantom and all the ghost animals, do they get a bunch of civilians raiding their government facilities and causing them bodily harm? What's happening with the Justice League? Are they sitting back and eating popcorn while all this goes down? Who knows. :)

[hotchs-big-hands]

What did you call me?

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words

Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader

NSFW Minors dni please

Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.

When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.

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Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅

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The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.

"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.

"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"

"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.

"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."

The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.

"Oh? Do tell us more."

"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.

"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."

Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.

"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.

Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.

A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.

"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.

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Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.

Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.

"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.

"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.

"You're distracted."

Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.

"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.

"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.

"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.

"Anything I can do to help?"

You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.

"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.

"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."

You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.

"Thank you, sir."

You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.

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Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.

"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.

"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."

You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.

"Sorry, I'll drink slower."

JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.

Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.

"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.

"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.

"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.

"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"

You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.

"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"

"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."

More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.

"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."

You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.

"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.

"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.

"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.

"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.

"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.

"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."

Your eyes widened in horror.

"Excuse me?"

Spencer cleared his throat.

"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.

"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."

Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.

It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.

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The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.

"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.

"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.

The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.

"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.

"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.

"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.

"She doesn't scare me."

"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."

"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.

"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."

You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.

"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.

"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."

A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.

"I'm not getting involved."

Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.

"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.

"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.

"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."

In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.

Oh.

You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.

Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.

"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.

"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.

"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"

The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.

"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."

Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.

"I know that."

"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"

"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."

You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.

"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.

"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.

"I know."

You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.

"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."

Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.

"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.

The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.

There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.

You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.

"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.

"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.

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A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.

Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.

Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.

Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.

"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?

You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.

"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."

You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.

"What's wrong?"

Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.

"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."

You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.

"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.

"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.

"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."

Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.

"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.

"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."

He raised a brow at you.

"Really now?"

Your eyes widened and you stuttered.

"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.

"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."

A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.

"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.

"Good night, sir."

He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.

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And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖

[glearyyyne]

a true story

Synopsis: Working at the bar as a waitress took a toll on you as soon as a white-haired man started to appear in the bar just to watch you. It was fine at first but he started to cause chaos in the bar which made you want to resign when he offered a deal with you and you accepted it, you didn't know it would lead to you questioning your feelings toward him.

Word Count: 4,959 words

Warning: 18+(because of kissing), angst, cursing, misunderstanding, mention of gun, fight.

Note: Another eternal sunshine song-based! Took me a lot of time to finish this 'cause I've been wanting to drop this fic but my friend encouraged me to continue and post it. To my friend, I love you very much for encouraging me to continue this!!

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey [Reader's name]!"

You spun around while adjusting your apron right after punching in for your shift.

"What's up, Fumiko?" you asked, quickly tying your apron into a neat bow.

"Table 7 needs you," she informed you, prompting a frustrated sigh from you. "Can't they wait a minute? I just clocked in!"

"Well, you wouldn't want to upset the boss again by ignoring his favorite customer," Fumiko gently reminded you.

You let out a sigh, muttering under your breath in frustration. 

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before stepping out of the locker room to begin your shift, knowing that serving Table 7 was your first task as always.

Table 7 was just a short distance from the bar, but what made it hard to miss was the white-haired man seated there, his striking appearance standing out among the other customers. 

Pausing once more, you took another deep breath, gathering your composure before making your way over to the table.

As Satoru sensed footsteps approaching from behind, he turned with a broad smile upon seeing you. 

"Ah, [Reader's nickname]! Wonderful to see you!" he greeted enthusiastically as you reached his table. 

You couldn't resist remarking, "My parents gave me a name for a reason," your grip on the notepad tightened as you struggled to contain your frustration.

Satoru's eyes sparkled behind his trademark sunglasses. 

"Okay, chill kitten," he teased once more. You internally groaned at the pet name. 

"Call me another pet name, and I'll make sure to file a restraining order against you," you threatened, although you knew you couldn't file a restraining order because...

"Oh yeah? I think you're forgetting something, princess," Satoru retorted, pulling out a pocket gun.

He’s one of the most dangerous men in Japan.

"You can't file a restraining order against me when they know how dangerous I am to society," he whispered with such intimidation that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but the smile on his face hinted at a hint of psychopathy. 

With a sigh, you said, "What do you want to order?" eager to move past the uncomfortable exchange.

"Mhmm, if you were on the menu, I would have ordered you," Satoru shamelessly remarked as he perused the menu. 

His words made you want to whack him on the spot.

"If you're looking for entertainment, I suggest booking a private room with one of our exotic dancers," you suggested, hoping to redirect his attention away from you. 

But luck wasn't on your side.

"They've already been touched by those dirty drunk businessmen, and besides, nobody will focus on some waitress like you when you're so pretty and perfect for me," Satoru explained, his words dripping with arrogance.

You scoffed at his statement. "Well, if you're into looks, I'm sorry, but I don't date guys like you who are too arrogant and full of ego," you told him angrily.

Satoru chuckled in response. "Well, I can change your mind about me if you'll let me," he said, his tone suggesting he wasn't about to give up. 

It seemed he wasn't going to let this go easily.

You stared at him blankly. "Can't you just tell me what your order is?" you asked, not wanting to waste any more time on him.

"Why? So you can go back and ignore me as usual?" Satoru asked with a pout.

"Good thing you know," you retorted.

"Of course I know," Satoru replied, seemingly about to continue, but he was interrupted by another customer.

"Hey miss, can I get another bottle of beer?" the customer interjected.

Turning to the customer, you nodded, "Sure, after I take his order," you said, pointing your pen towards Satoru, who wore an unpleasant expression on his face.

"Get another waiter to get you some beer," Satoru told the customer, his tone dismissive. 

You tried to intervene, "Hey!" but Satoru continued.

"Sorry, he's just, you know," you attempted to explain to the customer, but Satoru cut in.

"I'll get the usual meal," he said with a smile.

"You got it then," you replied, jotting down the order that you already knew, before walking away. 

Satoru eyed the guy who interrupted your conversation, making a mental note to deal with him later.

You continued your work, feeling the weight of his eyes following you around whenever you served someone. 

Those annoyingly pretty blue eyes seemed to track your every move. 

You did your best to ignore him, but you couldn't help but return his stare whenever you unconsciously scanned the bar. 

Despite finishing his meal, he remained, still watching you. When he noticed your gaze, he smiled and waved at you. 

Rolling your eyes, you returned to your tasks, determined not to let him distract you any further.

"So cute," Satoru said with a giggle as you looked away, obviously amused by how hard you were trying to resist his charms.

He enjoyed the challenge, especially when it came to you.

After hours of serving food and drinks to patrons, you glanced at the clock and realized you were close to the end of your shift. 

Surprisingly, Satoru was still seated at Table 7. 

It seemed like he was waiting for something, but you figured it was none of your business anyway.

"Bring this to table 6," the bartender instructed, handing you five drinks that needed to be served. 

This was your last task of the night, and it had to be five drinks. 

Carefully balancing them on a tray, you set off to deliver them to table 6. As you walked, you suddenly realized that Table 6 was dangerously close to Satoru's.

"Here's your drinks, sir," you spoke after arriving at their table, gently placing down the drinks. 

The men at the table suddenly went quiet as you approached. 

One of them, who was uncomfortably close, whistled and eyed your body, but you ignored him and continued placing the drinks.

"I didn't think the drinks would come with such a beautiful lady," he said, earning laughter from his companions. 

You knew Satoru was watching, so you felt somewhat safer in case the man tried anything.

"Why are you ignoring me, baby?" the guy said drunkenly. 

Ignoring him, you were about to place the last drink when you felt a hand grope your ass, causing you to spill the drink.

"Fuck!" the guy shouted, drawing attention from other customers. "You bitch!" he exclaimed, seemingly about to attack you.

Bracing yourself, you covered your face with the tray, ready to defend against the assault.

But the attack never came.

You uncovered your face from the tray as soon as you heard water splashing. 

To your surprise, you saw the guy who groped you was covered in water, with Satoru holding an empty glass raised to the guy's head. 

You were speechless at what he had done.

"What's your problem, man?!" the guy shouted at Satoru, his voice filled with anger. Everyone in the vicinity seemed to be holding their phones, ready to record the impending fight between the two.

Satoru scoffed, chuckling."You. You're my problem," he said angrily, pulling out the pocket gun he had and pointing it at the man, who suddenly looked scared. 

"You're touching what's mine," Satoru's voice was laced with possessiveness.

Your eyes widened as you rushed to Satoru, attempting to stop him from shooting the guy. 

"Satoru, stop it!" you pleaded, reaching for his wrist to prevent him from pulling the trigger.

"Just a second, princess, we need more time," Satoru said, his gaze still fixed on the man as he continued to point the gun.

"What time?!" you exclaimed, panic rising within you as the situation escalated.

"Now," Satoru calmly replied, finally lowering the gun. 

Before you could ask him anything else, security guards arrived on the scene, intervening in the fight.

You were speechless, still processing everything that had just unfolded, as Satoru took the opportunity to wrap his arm around your waist and kiss your head. 

"Your shift ends now, right? Can you go to the locker room? I'll take you home," he whispered softly.

Still surprised by the turn of events, you didn't have time to get annoyed at his actions. 

Instead, you nodded silently before heading to the locker room, leaving Satoru behind to deal with the aftermath of what had happened.

You made your way to the locker room, trying to calm your racing heart. Fumiko entered soon after, concern evident on her face. 

"Hey, I saw what happened. Are you okay?" she asked, gently rubbing your shoulder.

"I didn't think your boyfriend was capable of doing that," she added, causing you to look at her in surprise. "Boyfriend?" you let out incredulously.

"Is he not your boyfriend?" Fumiko asked carefully.

"Never in my life would he be my boyfriend," you vehemently denied, heading to your locker to grab your things. 

All you wanted was to retreat to your bed for the rest of the night.

"I think the boss wants to talk about what happened," Fumiko informed you, leaving you sighing heavily. 

This might be it; he might fire you.

"Okay, I'll head there," you said, grabbing your bag and preparing to leave. However, Fumiko stopped you before you could go any further.

"Get some rest, will ya?" she said with a reassuring smile. 

Her words resonated with you, and you returned her smile, nodding in agreement before finally leaving the locker room.

**

The conversation with your boss wasn't too lengthy, though he scolded you for spilling the drink that had caused the fight. 

However, to your relief, he didn't fire you. It felt as though Satoru might have intervened somehow to prevent your immediate termination. 

The bad news was that you were suspended for a day, meaning you couldn't work tomorrow. 

While it was disappointing, you understood the decision. It might be for the best to keep the club safe, especially if it meant Satoru would stay away while you were suspended.

As you exited through the door, you saw Satoru smoking nearby. As soon as he noticed you, he threw away the cigarette and began to approach you, but you stopped him in his tracks.

"Go home, I'll take the bus," you told him firmly, walking in the opposite direction. However, Satoru was about to let you go slowly.

"Wait, I just told you I'll take you home," he insisted.

"But I can't face you right now, Satoru. I almost lost my job there!" you snapped at him, frustration evident in your voice. 

You expected him to argue back, but instead, he surprised you by taking off his blazer and wrapping it around you, leaving you speechless.

"It's cold outside. Please, let me take you home," he said softly, his demeanor unusually gentle. It was the first time you had seen him act like this.

"Will you leave me alone if you take me home?" you asked, hoping for him to accept it.

However, his smile dropped at your question.

"I don't think I can leave you alone, not when I like you too much," Satoru confessed, but you didn't take his confession lightly.

"Oh, stop this crap. You can go and find someone else to date then," you retorted, refusing to let his words sway you.

"If you agree to be my fake girlfriend for a day, I'll leave you alone," Satoru suggested, his proposal tempting despite your reservations.

"Why do you even need a fake girlfriend to begin with?" you asked, curious about his motives.

"To impress my grandfather. That geezer wants me to bring someone to a ball party that's held tomorrow," Satoru replied, providing an explanation that made sense.

The timing coincidentally aligned with the day you were suspended from work, and you didn't have any other plans. 

"Fine, you better keep your end of the deal," you told him, reluctantly agreeing to his proposal.

Satoru smiled softly at you after you accepted his offer. That left you feeling something that you couldn't explain.

What the hell was that?

**

As you were about to head inside your house, Satoru stopped you. "Hey, I'll pick you up tomorrow by 7 am," he said, causing you to stop in your tracks.

"7? That's too early! Can't you see it's 1 am?" you protested.

"I know, but it'll be fun. You'll get to be treated like a princess," Satoru smirked at you before turning and walking back to his car, leaving you standing there feeling confused.

You were about to ask him for clarification, but he had already left. 

Shaking your head in bewilderment, you headed inside the house and got ready for bed, still wondering what Satoru had planned for tomorrow morning.

**

"I didn't think you'd bring me to the mall," you remarked to Satoru, who was busy looking at clothes for you.

"Does it really have to be here at Louis Vuitton?" you added, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the luxurious surroundings.

"I can't let you go into the ball wearing cheap clothes, and besides, that geezer is allergic to anything less than top-tier fashion. So, if we want to impress him, then..." Satoru paused, pulling out a dress. 

"You need to wear this," he said, showing you the dress.

"I would have to work ten jobs just to be able to purchase that," you told him, feeling a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

Satoru chuckled at your remark. 

"But you don't need to work ten jobs to buy this when you have me," he said, his ego shining through. You rolled your eyes at his typical arrogance.

"We're only going to buy one, right?" you asked, trying to reel him in, but Satoru didn't respond. 

Instead, he is immediately swarmed by sales ladies to assist him in finding you the perfect clothes.

The original plan was just to buy clothes for the ball, but it ended up with tons of outfits for various occasions – working, hanging out, lounging at home, and even for work.

"You didn't stick to your plan, did you?" you asked him as you both left the shop, him carrying tons of bags while you only had a few.

"So what? At least you have more clothes to wear," Satoru remarked as you both walked towards the parking area on the ground floor of the mall. 

Just as Satoru was about to open the door to his car, your eyes widened as you saw someone unexpected, causing you to instinctively pull Satoru close to you. 

His hands unconsciously went to the wall, as if pinning you against it.

"Woah, I didn't expect this," Satoru let out with a smirk, clearly enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

"Shut up, there's someone I didn't want to see, and I need you to cover for me," you told him urgently, but Satoru was stubborn. 

"Where?" he said, looking around, making you panic. You grabbed both of his cheeks and made him face you. 

"Just look at me! Don't turn around!" you whispered angrily.

"Well, I can't deny you're giving me the chance to look at your pretty face," Satoru teased, but you rolled your eyes in exasperation. 

As you saw a shadow approaching, panic surged through you again. Without thinking, you pressed your lips against Satoru's. 

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't resist. He kissed you back, his hand instinctively moving to your waist while the other remained pressed against the wall.

You could feel Satoru's smirk against your lips as he began to dominate the kiss between the two of you. 

Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed when someone approached.

"Uh, excuse me?" the guy's voice interrupted, causing Satoru to pull away from the kiss and bite his lip in frustration. 

"Yes?" Satoru replied, trying to maintain his composure as you ducked your face, hiding onto his chest in embarrassment.

"I think you shouldn't be doing that here," the guy said, and you stayed quiet as you recognized his voice. Out of all the places, he had to be here?

"You're ruining a good time for me, dude," Satoru told the guy without even looking at him. 

"If you interfere again, you'll never see the light of day," Satoru threatened, his hand moving to his gun just to scare the guy off. 

The guy backed away and left, leaving you two alone at last. You finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Was it him, wasn't it?" Satoru spoke, his voice deep and serious.

"Huh?" you asked, finally looking up to see him staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"The reason why you're in this position?" Satoru asked, his hand gently holding your chin. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, unsure of what to say. 

"But then again, I can finally taste your lips," Satoru whispered, his words causing you to blush furiously.

You thought he was about to lean in for another kiss, but to your surprise, he pulled away and picked up the bags from the ground before heading back to the car to open it.

You stood there, speechless, trying to process what had just happened and the whirlwind of emotions it stirred within you.

"You're not going inside?" Satoru asked, a smirk evident in his tone, and you felt the urge to wipe it off his face. 

Ignoring his smugness, you walked up to the car and opened the passenger door, getting inside and taking a seat. Satoru didn't say much as he started the engine. 

You waited, expecting him to speak, but when he finally did as he began driving, you weren't prepared for his choice of topic.

"I think it would be best if you wore the midnight blue dress so it would match my eyes," Satoru suddenly spoke, catching you off guard.

"You just had to choose that as the icebreaker for our conversation?" you asked, staring at him incredulously.

"What? You wanted me to talk about how sweet those lips of yours are? Because I can tell you straight if you want," Satoru replied casually, his words annoying you.

"Whatever, it's not like you'll be getting more than that," you muttered, but you heard him chuckle.

"I assure you, princess, that you'll give me more," Satoru said confidently.

"Why do you think so?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"I just feel it," he replied cryptically, leaving you puzzled by his enigmatic response.

***

You admired yourself in the mirror after putting on the fitted midnight dress. 

Lost in thought, you didn't notice Satoru approaching until he appeared behind you, his hand resting on your waist as he looked at you with a grin on his face.

"So gorgeous," he whispered directly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your breath hitched as his words stirred something within you, and it felt strange to have Satoru eyeing you as if you were his.

Sensing your reaction, Satoru leaned down and kissed your neck, leaving you shocked by his sudden boldness. 

The sensation of his lips against your skin sent a jolt through you, and you struggled to compose yourself during his unexpected actions.

"Can't help myself," Satoru murmured against your skin, his voice low and seductive. "You look so irresistible in that dress, like a vision from a dream."

His lips trailed along your neck, sending tingles down your spine. 

"I knew it would fit you the moment I saw that dress in the store," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin.

"Satoru—" you began to protest, but he hushed you as if he already knew what you were going to say. 

"Shh, remember you're my fake girlfriend now," Satoru reminded you, his words a gentle reminder of the charade you both agreed to.

As you slowly processed how the fake girlfriend charade had begun, you felt a cold band being placed on your finger. 

Quickly, you stared at your hand, surprised to see a beautiful ring adorning your ring finger. 

While you were still absorbed in examining the ring, Satoru took the opportunity to whisper to you. 

"I need to let them see that you're taken," he said with a smile, "for now," he added cryptically.

Confused by his words, you couldn't shake the feeling that all of this would lead to consequences in the end. 

**

Both you and Satoru entered the luxurious mansion, with Satoru guiding you inside with his hand on your waist. 

You tried your best not to appear too stiff, knowing that any sign of discomfort would be noticed by everyone around you. 

Eventually, you both stopped at the entrance of the ballroom. 

"Make sure to act cool," Satoru whispered to you, and you nodded, taking a deep breath before the two of you entered the room.

The ballroom was as extravagant as expected, filled with large paintings, a lavish chandelier, and a polished floor where guests danced to the slow jazz music playing in the background. 

The room buzzed with the sound of people conversing and laughing, adding to the lively atmosphere. 

You observed your surroundings while Satoru guided you to where his grandfather was, trying to maintain your composure amid the greatness and finesse of the event.

As you stopped observing the room, you finally spotted Satoru's grandfather, who was conversing with other guests, holding a glass of wine in his right hand. 

"Hey, old man," Satoru greeted his grandfather casually as if he were addressing a stranger. 

His grandfather turned to look at Satoru with a blank expression, but as soon as he noticed you, his face lit up with a warm smile.

"Oh! She must be your date for this event?" his grandfather asked, his attention fully on you and Satoru as he excused himself from the other guests he had been speaking with. 

He extended his hand toward you as if expecting a handshake. 

You looked at Satoru for encouragement, and he smiled reassuringly before you accepted his grandfather's handshake.

"It's so nice to meet you, Ayaka-san," his grandfather greeted you, but you were utterly confused. 

"Ayaka? I'm [reader's name]," you told him, which caused the old man's smile to falter as he stared at you and Satoru back and forth.

"You're not Kobayashi's daughter?" he asked, further adding to your confusion. 

"Kobayashi—what?" you turned to Satoru, seeking an explanation for this unexpected turn of events. 

Satoru simply laughed, placing his hand on your shoulder and pulling you in close so you could hear him.

"Go and take some food from the buffet while I discuss some things with my old man," he instructed you. 

You were about to protest, but you felt Satoru's grip tighten. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. 

"Now go, but don't stray too far from my sight," he added as he walked towards his grandfather, engaging in a discussion that felt off-limits to you.

Feeling a bit left out, you made your way to the buffet, grabbing a lavish plate as you pondered your choices. 

Lost in thought, you were surprised when someone placed a cupcake on your plate, prompting you to look up at them.

"It seems you're lost in thought, madam," a boy who seemed younger than you spoke.

"Oh, sorry. It's just... I'm not used to these kinds of events," you explained.

"I could tell," he said with a smile. "I'm Isamu, Gojo-san's cousin," he introduced himself.

"Oh, I'm [reader's name], his girlfriend," you introduced yourself, but you noticed how his face became confused.

"Really? But everyone here was told that Ayaka-san is his girlfriend," he said, adding to your confusion. 

Who is this Ayaka-san? If he already has a girlfriend, why would he bring you here?

"Is she that popular?" you asked him, feeling increasingly perplexed.

"Wait, you don't know her? I thought Gojo-san at least told you about her," he replied.

"If you wouldn't mind, would you like to dance with me? I can fill you in on the background of the two," he suggested, extending his hand. 

You glanced at Satoru, who was still busy greeting guests, and figured it wouldn't hurt, so you accepted his hand and allowed him to lead you to the dance floor.

As you began dancing, he finally spoke. "They were playmates in their childhood. Gojo-san would throw a tantrum if Ayaka-san wasn't his playmate," he explained. 

You listened attentively, but you couldn't shake the strange feeling bubbling up inside you, as if your blood was boiling.

"Everyone adores them, and it's already been agreed that they'll get married when they're older," he continued, leaving you even more puzzled and uncertain about your role in this situation.

Feeling numb from the revelation and betrayed by Satoru's omission, you couldn't help but feel like you were being cast as the villain in this family's storybook. 

"But I don't know, everything changed when Gojo-san was appointed to take over his father's business, and it was mentioned that the business was dangerous," Isamu explained, adding to your confusion.

"So where is this Ayaka-san?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I don't know. I thought she would come today as Gojo-san's date, but I didn't expect it to be you," Isamu replied, his tone sounding mocking to your ears.

“But I should give you a warning, Don't believe or fall for his concerned face; you'll get yourself in trouble,” Isamu told you which made you even more confused.

Before you could respond, you felt a hand on your waist and turned to see Satoru. 

"Excuse me, but you're dancing with my girlfriend," he said, his tone polite but laced with tension.

"Oh, sorry," Isamu apologized, releasing your hand and wiping it, which triggered you. 

"I'll leave you two alone for some time," he said with a smile before walking away, leaving you feeling even more conflicted.

Satoru cupped your cheek, his concern was evident in his eyes. 

"Hey, are you alright? Did he do something wrong?" he asked, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of being scrutinized by everyone around you. 

Pushing away his hand, you looked at the ground and whispered, "I... I want to go home.”

Satoru didn't respond immediately, but you could sense his frustration as he glanced around the room. 

"I shouldn't have left you alone," he muttered, his words filled with regret. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you close, and together you walked out of the ballroom.

Satoru quickly led you to one of the bathrooms, entering before you and locking the door behind him. 

He turned to you, finding you still avoiding his gaze, unsure of what to do next.

Taking charge, he placed his hands on your waist and lifted you, seating you on the sink. 

Once you were settled, he leaned in, resting both hands on the sink as he studied your expression.

"What did you two talk about?" Satoru asked, his tone gentle but insistent. 

You bit your lip, hesitant to discuss it. His hand moved to your chin, his touch soft as he advised, "Don't bite them too hard."

Your mind was swirling with conflicting emotions. 

Just yesterday, you were angry with him and vowed to keep your distance, but now... the mere mention of Ayaka next to Satoru stirred a fierce jealousy within you. 

Were you really starting to fall for him?

You gazed into Satoru's eyes, he looked at you with a genuine look. But then, a warning from Isamu echoed in your mind

"Don't believe or fall for his concerned face; you'll get yourself in trouble."

Conflicted and unsure of whom to trust, you couldn't bear the thought of Satoru displaying this same affection to Ayaka, his supposed childhood sweetheart.

In a split-second decision, you seized Satoru by the collar and pulled him into a kiss, letting your emotions take over.

Satoru responded swiftly, his hands finding their place on your waist as he reciprocated the kiss with equal intensity. 

You felt a surge of desperation, a need for him to affirm that you were indeed his. Your hands moved to his collar, unbuttoning his clothes in a feverish haze. 

Satoru allowed you to take the lead, deepening the kiss as the passion between you intensified.

You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for breath, and rested your head on Satoru's shoulder. 

His hands found yours, guiding you as you helped him remove his clothes. 

His whispered encouragement urged you on, and at that moment, you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming desire, allowing yourself to lose control completely.

**

You woke up in Satoru's room, feeling a wave of confusion and regret wash over you as the events of the previous night flooded your mind. 

You remembered the passion and the intimacy, but also the emptiness that followed. 

“Don't think about anything, just think of me- God I love you too much, you're driving me crazy.” Satoru's whispered declarations of love echoed in your ears last night, but you knew deep down they held no true meaning.

As you sat up, the reality of the situation hit you hard. Satoru had left you alone in his bed, a painful reminder of his indifference. 

Anger and betrayal surged within you, mingling with the hurt and vulnerability.

"Fuck you, Satoru," you muttered under your breath as you clenched your fists, the sting of betrayal fueling your resolve. 

Despite the ache in your legs, you pushed yourself to get dressed, every movement a painful reminder of the night before.

Before leaving, you scribbled a short note, a final message to Satoru. 

"Don't come find me," you wrote hastily, the words carrying the weight of your shattered trust and wounded pride. 

With a heavy heart and a resolve to start anew, you left his house behind, planning to leave the city and leave him behind for good.

[daisies-daydreams]

Office Hours - Chapter 1 (Professor!Miguel x F!College Student!Reader)

Pairing: Professor!Miguel O’Hara x CollegeStudent!F!Reader Category: Semi-Angst (Smut begins next chapter 😉) Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Content, Romantic/Sexual Tension Word Count: 1.1k+

Summary: Your grades have been slipping, prompting your physics professor, Miguel O'Hara, to suggest that you see him during his office hours...

A/N: Ahhh I'm so excited to finally post this! I've literally been working on this off and on since I started studying for my exams (aka a long ass time). I hope you all enjoy this roller-coaster of a story! Side Note: This is a college AU. All characters have been aged up.

-> Ch. 2

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

It’s not your fault your physics professor had a body like a Greek god and a voice smoother than silk. Or that he offers you an uncharacteristically kind smile every time you tell him to have a good day. Or that your grades have been slipping because you’ve been getting a little…distracted lately.

“…(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” your name echoed inside your ears. Your friend and classmate, Miles, nudged your arm with his elbow. You shook your head and blinked a few times, your heart sinking when you saw a small smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” you asked as you turned towards your professor. A few snickers were heard around the lecture hall, causing you to shrink into your seat. Professor O’Hara sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and murmured something under his breath. His large shadow was suddenly over you, his dark eyes meeting yours through his reading glasses. You wanted to shrink even more as he tapped his thick fingers against his taut forearm.

“I asked: what happens when a clock gets closer to the source of gravitation?” he questioned, his voice husked as he leaned forward ever so slightly. You felt your face heat up as you eyed his parted, plump lips. You swallowed thickly.

“U-Um…time becomes slower?” you said hesitantly. Your professor's eyes softened as he leaned back.

“Correct,” he replied with a small grin. Your head perked up just as he turned to walk back to his desk. “As (Y/N) said, time becomes slower. Now, gravitational time dilation…” his voice began to trail off as you observed the way his muscles flexed beneath his tight-fitting sweater. You quickly shifted your gaze back to your dim laptop screen, biting your bottom lip all the while.

The rest of class was a tug-of-war of attention, your mind shifting like sand between fantasy and reality. The knowing stares and occasional nudges from Miles didn’t help much, either.

“Alright, that’s it for today’s lesson. Any questions?” he asked. The room was dead silent. The massive man at the front of the room scanned his audience before sighing. “Okay, then. Please have Module 6 done by midnight tomorrow,” Professor O’Hara said. Everyone shifted out of their chairs as they began to pack up. You rubbed your eyes before sliding your laptop into your bag.

“A little distracted during class today?” Miles nudged again while wiggling his brows. You rolled your eyes as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

"You're worse than Hobie, I swear," you groaned. He chuckled as the two of you began to make your way out of the room.

“(Y/N),” your professor called. You instantly froze in place, your feet stuck to the floor like velcro. You slightly turned your face to see Professor O'Hara leaning against his desk.

“Yes, Professor O’Hara?” you asked. He tilted his head down slightly, the rims of his spectacles catching the dim lighting of the room.

“A word,” he continued, motioning you to come towards him with his index finger. Your cheeks filled with heat as Miles leaned over.

“Good luck,” your friend snickered. You shot him a deadly glare before he chuckled and walked into the hallway. You bit the inside of your cheek as you turned around and shuffled forward, desperately trying to keep any illicit thoughts from clawing their way to the front of your mind. Professor O’Hara gazed at you with half-lidded eyes as he tilted his head to the side, his knuckles paling against the edge of his wooden desk.

“(Y/N), I'm starting to become concerned about your performance in this class,” he said. You looked up, your heart racing beneath your goose-bump ridden chest.

“Sir?” you asked. Your professor’s brows scrunched together before he took off his glasses and folded them on the neck of his sweater.

“You’re smart, (Y/N). We both know that,” he spoke. Your cheeks felt hot as your chest grew tight.

“Thank you, Professor O’Hara,” you said. His shoulders relaxed a little.

“Call me Miguel," he murmured as he flashed you a small smile. Your breath stuttered.

"Oh, um, thank you...Miguel," you squeaked, his name feeling unfamiliar as it fell from your lips. Your professor hummed as he pushed himself off the desk. Your mouth grew dry as he lumbered towards you, his body soon within a mere foot from yours.

"I’ve been noticing your attention during class has been slipping lately,” he stated. You felt like you were floating as you felt his hot breath fall across your face, your eyes glued to the way his Adam's apple bobbed. “Hey, look at me...please,” he said sternly. You shook your head and focused on his eyes. His features were soft despite his firm tone, his body leaning slightly towards you.

“(Y/N), I don’t want to see you fail because I know you’ve worked too hard to get this far,” he explained with a gentle tone. Your heart felt like it was going to explode at his words combined with his tender, caring eyes. You clenched and unclenched your hands.

“I-I understand,” you said. Professor O’Hara leaned back, his gaze glued to your lips before he shifted them back to your eyes.

“Good. Now, I recommend that you come see me during my office hours where I can personally review the material with you,” he explained. Your heart stopped at the thought of being alone with him. You swallowed thickly and nodded.

“T-That sounds good,” you replied. The corner of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly.

“Will tomorrow at 6 PM work for you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side a little as he looked down at you. You parted your lips as you squeaked out a quiet “yes”. He nodded.

“Good,” he replied. You could've sworn you saw him wink as he pulled his jacket over his wide shoulders, though you quickly dismissed it as a result of sleep deprivation. Even still, your core began to swell with heat as you watched his thick, deft fingers graze over his buttons.

“Oh, and one more thing…is there anything in particular you find distracting during class?” he asked, the corners of his mouth curved a little more into a smirk than a simple grin. You felt all color drain from your face as you clutched the bottom of your shirt.

“Just some...personal things,” you muttered. You could feel his gaze intensify, shining against you like the heat of the sun.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” he apologized. You waved your hand.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you flushed. He cracked a small grin: such a simple gesture that quickly unraveled you from the inside out.

“Right,” he hummed before moving back to his desk. You shuffled in place as you lingered in the threshold of the lecture hall.

“Could you move a little to the left, please?” he chuckled, his husky voice snapping you out of your thoughts. You blinked a few times before looking into his deep, brown eyes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you took a step over. Miguel grinned again as he took a step forward. You raised your brows when he suddenly paused and turned towards you. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as he took a step forward, causing your back to become flush with the wall. Your breath hitched as he cupped your cheek with his massive, warm hand.

"This can't be real," you thought as your eyes widened. But the feeling of his palm against your cheek told you this was very much your reality. You sighed as you mindlessly leaned into his touch. He leaned forward as he smoothed his calloused thumb over your skin.

“(Y/N), I-"

“U-Um, Professor O’Hara?” a voice piped up. He rolled his head over as his hand immediately fell to his side. You shuffled awkwardly as the student's gaze shifted between the two of you.

“What?” he asked, his tone having a noticeable edge to it. The other student swallowed before tugging on the strings of their backpack.

"I-I had some questions about today's lecture," they said. Miguel clenched his jaw.

"My office will be open in thirty minutes. You can come ask me then," he replied curtly. They nodded before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone once more. Your heart stopped as he leaned in, his lips brushing over your ear.

"Remember, 6 PM tomorrow," he husked. You bit your lip and nodded as he leaned back. You shuddered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Professor?"

Miguel rolled his eyes and groaned quietly.

"Sí," he called as another student hovered in the doorway. They came inside before asking him a million questions in a matter of five seconds. Miguel blinked before gazing over at you and tilting his head towards the door. You gave him a small smile before hurrying outside, your heart glowing more than ever as you made your way back to your dorm.

---

“So, how was your ‘talk’ with Old Man O’Hara,” Hobie smirked. You scoffed and poked at your dinner with a fork. Miles and Pav were “busy” playing a video game as the rest of you lounged around your living room.

“Hobie, don’t be gross,” your roommate, Gwen, playfully flicked his arm as she slid onto the couch next to you.

“Yes, mum,” he sang. Your friend simply shook her head as she tossed some popcorn into her mouth.

“He’s not that old…” you muttered. Miles immediately turned his head while Hobie burst out into laughter.

“So you do have something for the geezer,” the Brit said while wiggling his brows.

“OHHH! I KNEW IT!” Pav beamed excitedly as he quickly paused the game and spun around to meet your gaze. Your face grew hot as everyone’s eyes suddenly glued onto you. You took a deep breath.

“Migu-Professor O’Hara is my instructor. Nothing more,” you said with a firm nod. All the guy’s exchanged glances before turning back to you.

“What?” you asked in an annoyed tone.

“Oh, come on,” Miles sighed.

“It’s so obvious!” Pav said innocently. You grumbled as you threw your head back and ran your hands down your face.

“Is it really?” you groaned. Everyone chuckled.

“Yeah,” Miles shrugged. You shook your head, glancing down at your plate.

“He’s like thirty-something. He’s not that old...” you muttered.

“So about ten years is your limit?” Hobie asked. You snatched a piece of popcorn from Gwen’s bowl and chucked it at one of his wicks.

“Hey!” she frowned. Hobie gave a wry grin as he plucked it from his hair before locking eyes with you. He smirked as he slid it past his plump lips and slowly chewed it. You narrowed your eyes as the Brit swallowed it with an audible gulp. Your cheeks flushed as you scoffed.

“Okay, I'm done with this conversation," you replied as you held up your hands. Hobie chuckled before quickly shifting his attention to Gwen. They began to talk about their next band practice while Miles and Pav went back to playing their game.

Meanwhile, your mind began to drift as you anxiously wondered what tomorrow would bring...

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999

[nox140497]

A Midnight Crisis

Prompt: No

Request: No

Summery: Colby has a panic attack late one night.

Prompt Number: None

Pairings: Colby Brock x Female Reader

Masterlist

Prompt List

_______________________________

Colby shut his laptop with more force than intended and rubbed his tired eyes. It was past 2am, and he was no closer to finishing the script for his next video.

Glancing around the dimly lit editing room, stacks of notes and camera equipment stared back at him, each item representing hours of work ahead. The never-ending to-do list seemed to stretch into infinity as pressure and perfectionism gnawed away at his sanity.

A tapping at the door pulled Colby from his spiraling thoughts. "Sweetheart, come to bed," said his girlfriend Y/N softly. "You've been at it for hours."

Colby nodded wearily and followed her downstairs. As they curled up under the blankets, Y/N gently stroked his damp hair. "What's keeping you up?" she asked softly.

Colby took a shaky breath. "I just feel so behind. If I don't post at least twice a week, the algorithm will bury me. And the comments..." His voice cracked. "People are always criticising - the lighting, my jokes, who I film with, everything. I try so hard, but it's never enough."

Y/N pulled him closer. "You work like three men already. No one achieves perfection, at least of all in a few hours each time."

Colby knew she was right, but the churning anxiety refused to subside. What if his viewers lost interest? Sponsors pulled funding? It had happened to bigger creators - he wasn't immune.

"I'll never sleep at this rate," he sighed. Reluctantly climbing out of bed, Colby headed back to his prison of screens and cables. Y/N followed, concern etched on her face.

Back in the office, Colby began rewriting his script frantically, deleting and retyping sentences over and over as familiar panic started clawing its way up his throat. What if he picked the wrong topic? Messed up the comedic timing? He typed so fast his hands began to cramp.

A stabbing pain in his chest made Colby gasp for air. Black spots danced before his eyes as the walls closed in, trapping him under the crushing expectation to perform.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him from behind. "Colby, you need to breathe," urged Y/N calmly. She took his trembling hand and placed it on her chest. "In and out, slowly. I've got you."

Colby fought to match her even breaths as crushing anxiety morphed into racking sobs. "I'm losing control," he cried into Y/N's shoulder. "What if I can't do this anymore?"

"Shh, it's okay," soothed Y/N gently. "Come, let's get some air."

Walking unsteadily through the silent house, Colby slowly began to regain control of his breathing in the cool night. Y/N never let go of his hand, grounding him through the lingering panic.

On the back porch, they sat close together, watching the stars. An uneasy silence stretched between them as Colby gathered the courage to speak.

"I'm scared this will break me," he admitted shakily. "I pour everything into videos only to be constantly worried if it's decent enough. It's not making me happy anymore - it's destroying me." A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N gently wiped it away and took his face in her hands. "You are so much more than the metrics or comments say. I see how talented and kind you are every day. This channel was supposed to be fun, so please don't let it ruin your health or us."

Her earnest eyes conveyed nothing but compassion. All the resentful feelings Colby harbored towards himself began to melt away under Y/N's unconditional love and support.

As the first light of dawn broke over the trees, Colby finally felt some of the crushing weight lift. Exhausted but calmer, he leaned into Y/N's shoulder, grateful beyond words that she saw his true worth, not defined by meaningless views or numbers on a screen. This was only the beginning of getting his life back on track, but with her by his side, Colby believed things could get better.

A week had passed since Colby's panic attack, and he was beginning to feel more like himself again. Taking time completely away from YouTube at Y/N's suggestion had brought unexpected relief.

Without daily stresses to focus on, Colby rediscovered long-lost interests like photography and gardening. He spent afternoons going for hikes with Y/N, marvelling at nature's beauty through fresh eyes. Their home filled with snapshot memories from each outing, captured joyfully on film.

With structure and rest, Colby's anxiety gradually released its grip. For the first time in months he slept well, free from dreams about botched collabs or unkind comments. Y/N watched him awaken each day looking more energised, reminding her gently of the importance to maintain this lifestyle.

One sunny afternoon found Colby immersed in tending roses along the fence border. As he trimmed away wilted blooms, flashes of memories surfaced - cramming scripts at 3am, editing well into dawn, forgetting to eat or take breaks. Exhausted, sore hands moved on auto-pilot to create a never-ending stream of content.

His downward spiral had been gradual yet forceful, spurred on by perfectionism and fear of slipping in the algorithm. But Y/N's care dragged Colby kicking and screaming from that dark routine, revealing how lonely the path of overwork had become. A cold shudder passed over him at the realisation of how close he came to burning out completely.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Colby's gaze fell upon Y/N watching tenderly from the porch. Her bright smile warmed his soul, reminding him that life held more meaningful things than views or trends. Carrying the gardening tools inside, Colby collapsed on the couch beside her with a happy sigh.

"Feeling better?" she asked, handing him a cool drink. Colby nodded gratefully. "I'm amazed at the difference a week makes. Things seem clearer now."

He stretched comfortably, thoughts drifting back over stressful nights locked away working endlessly to please abstract metrics, while neglecting real connection. That loneliness had almost swallowed him whole.

"Thank you for pulling me back from the edge," Colby told Y/N earnestly, taking her hands. "I lost sight of what really matters, but you've given me a new perspective."

Y/N leaned in for a lingering kiss. "I'm just glad to have you here, happy and healthy. Promise me you won't let it get that bad again?" Smiling, Colby promised to always communicate how he felt from now on, never bottle things up until breaking point.

That evening, the couple discussed potential strategies for Colby to maintain wellbeing going forward. Setting stricter schedules with enforced breaks, delegating tasks, limiting social media use - simple changes aimed at sustainably managing pressure and burnout prevention.

Colby knew regaining control would take diligent effort. But with Y/N by his side, nothing felt impossible anymore. Her patience and reassurance instilled a calm confidence in his ability to return renewed, without sacrificing mental wellness. The following week, Colby finally felt ready to resume video making.

Armed with new perspective and healthier habits, Colby crafted a short update video explaining his break to concerned viewers. Speaking candidly about mental health awareness and balance, he saw more supportive comments roll in than ever before. The positive reinforcement served to cement Colby's resolution to prioritise fulfillment through diverse passions instead of basing self-worth on one metric's fluctuations alone.

Weeks turned to months of sustainable creativity. True to his word, Colby kept communication lines open with Y/N, never hesitating to discuss feelings or setbacks. With her encouragement he joined local photography groups and took on freelance opportunities to spread creative wings beyond YouTube alone.

Most importantly, Colby learned to be kind to himself through both triumphs and failures. Looking back on a time when anxiety nearly took control of his life, he was profoundly grateful for Y/N's unconditional love and support. It was this care that gave him strength to overcome adversity and regain balance, emerging healthier and happier than ever before.

[easy-there-leftovers]

Hiii can I just say I’m OBSESSED with ISY,D!! Amazing work truly the best ❤️

I saw asks are open so I thought I’d slip in a little prompt 👀

Astarion and Tav have a bit of a spat at camp. Tav is trying to convince Astarion that ascending would make him just as bad as Cazador, but Astarion craves the power and the freedom. Tav, upset and frustrated, ends up leaving for a walk through the late night streets of the gate to clear their head. One of the vampire spawn out looking for their next prey find Tav, recognizing them immediately as Astarion’s love (and one true weakness) and kidnaps them to bring to Cazador. Cazador, being the sick fuck he is, locks Tav away and sends a note to Astarion that he finds the next morning, saying that he had Tav and that if Astarion wants them back he has to surrender to Cazador and go through with the ceremony. Astarion loses his mind and races to the castle with the gang in tow, praying that Tav is unharmed. Will he be there just in time to save Tav? Or will he be too late, will Cazador have already turned them by the time he gets there?

Sorry for the paragraph but this has been in my mind for DAYS and I would cry if you could make this story come to fruition ❤️

-🌸

Hello 🌸anon!! Thank you so much for liking the series, I'm glad that it's something that you enjoy reading! Also, I've decided to include @simp-4-astarion's request as they were rather similar in nature!! Thank you so much for liking my work :,DDD

In addition!! Just a heads up for people who'd like to request or send an idea in, I don't just write for Astarion! Feel free to include your favorite romanceable pcs (and non romanceable npcs lol) into the mix!!

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

That night at camp had been fraught with tension, like a fraying rope ready to snap. The campfire crackled, the tongues of the flame dancing and flickering about, mirroring the storm within the heated pair.

Your voice, something that he's come to find solace in as of late, quivered with frustration unlike any he's heard directed at him before as you tried to reason with him.

"I don't relish it. but my," He pauses, wondering what he should call them. "--Siblings lured thousands of people to their death over the years. I doubt Baldur's Gate would miss any of them." He seems rather taken with the idea, and you worry about what this could mean for him.

"But we don't even know if it's possible, Astarion. You're hypothesizing that you become the Vampire Ascended at the expense of eradicating the other spawn." Whether or not they had done things as horrendous as your,-- gods you don't even know what you are,-- as the ex-magistrate, they did not deserve to be subjected to such a ritual.

He paces around you, ascertaining your reactions, and making quick work to think about how he could convince you

"And so what? I've obviously thought about it. If I completed the ritual, this evocation, I'd have insurmountable power. And--" He nears himself to you, practically whispering the following words into the skin of you neck. As if anything he said would etch its way into your skin and carve you anew.

"I could walk in the sun without fear of becoming a mindflayer. Don't you want that for me, darling? For us?" The question instills an indescribable fear in you. Not the same fear that's been riddling you as you wonder if you'd perish in one of your many battles, but the fear you'd witness when you lost something dear to you.

It's as if he's giving you an out.

Agree with him, and you seal his fate as the Vampire Ascendant with a sure place at his side.

Or disagree, allowing all those spawn the same chance he had been given all those tendays ago, and snuff out whatever growing relationship you had between you.

He senses your uncertainty. And he feels lost. He figured that you would be so sure to keep him at your side. Doing anything it takes to make sure it stays that way, but now you're getting cold feet with his blatant proposal of companionship because of what?

These monsters he's hunted with?

These damned spawn that represent everything you've seeked to correct about the world?

"Astarion, please, give them a chance. They were just like you once, give them that much."

At any other time, he would've admired your efforts to help them. But in this moment, he thinks you a fool who could never truly understand what it means to be a slave and to want for power.

"You did not know them. And you do not know me as well as you may think, my dear, if you think they deserve a chance more than I do."

He doesn't know why it all happened the way it did. The way that his thoughts came tumbling out of his mouth and only allowing the worst of things to escape him.

All he knows was that it had surely hurt you and that he doesn't think he's ever seen your retreating form look as small as it did as you walked towards somewhere in the city.

And that he wished he had remembered where they were. So near to where his consanguines and he used to hunt.

So when he and the others are greeted with a letter smelling of undeath, telling them that they had their precious leader imprisoned in Cazadaor's manor, he knows not to tell them about the little argument you two had.

Knows not to tell them anything to dampen their mood as they search for you.

Knows not to tell them that the likelihood he kept you alive was slim to none, now that he has Astarion's attention.

Once they had been alerted of your whereabouts, a clear ploy to lure him back to his master, there would be no use for you anymore. They don't know Cazador like he did, and he was sure that by the time they reached their destination, you would be no more.

Stil, he's willing to take any chance he can get to get you back. No use in proclaiming you dead if he hasn't seen you, and he'd be damned if he let Cazador take any more from him.

————━─━────༺༻────━─━————

[v3nusxsky]

Hey, do you write for wandanat? If not that's totally fine but if you do I was wondering if maybe I could request one?

Maybe where Wanda and nat are already together and one night at an avengers party they spot reader and Wanda falls for them and so convinces Natasha to seduce and take reader home with them?

Hopefully with smut, and maybe with daddy nat and soft mommy Wanda?

Love your work soooo much, feel no pressure to write this❤️

One of a Kind 18+

*Authors note~ a) I wrote this exhausted so mistakes are mine sorry y’all. B) I know you guys are all excited for different things so I was struggling to choose what I should post, shamefully having an anxiety attack over not choosing the right fic. So to save the day my lovely girlfriend choose wandnat for tonight*

To requester, I'm sorry I took some artistic liberties here but I honestly couldn't help but write them as g!p I hope that's okay!!!

Trigger warnings~threesome smut seduction daddy and mommy kink g!p Wanda Nat fingering r receiving praise and degrading kinks choking semi public sex??

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Wanda and Tasha really didn't want to come to this party. No. But as per normal Tony wanted to throw a party and showed off his wealth and success. Wanda opting for a stunning emerald dress and Nat going for a form fitting suit. Wanda hid her cock so well that Nat often found herself being jealous. But she couldn't deny that her girlfriend is absolutely stunning in everything and nothing.

You'd been invited by Fury as a way to introduce you to the Avengers. You'd be set to join the team soon, but no one but Fury or Tony knew. Nat spotted you first, a simple Maroon skirt tucked into a beautiful black pencil skirt. Your legs on full display and a few buttons undone to give a tasteful view of your cleavage to the public. Alone at the bar is how the story starts, a rather cliche but important fact. That was where under an agreement between her and her wife Natasha swooped in on you.

You'd be lying if you said she wasn't sexy and very alluring but you still don't quite understand why she's here wasting time trying to get you in her bed. No one ever does that. It made you skeptical of her advances and actively ignoring the way her voice alone caused your cunt to become slick. The way her voice deepened as her eyes drank you in almost got you. Almost. But your past caught you first, you ended up lashing out at the woman.

"No one's ever really shown an interest in me. I'm not the prettiest or the smartest or the funniest girl around, I'm just average." You almost whispered but the woman could hear the sadness dripping through every word. "So this cruel joke of yours. Just stop it! Because I know no one would ever want me especially when they look like you do. So just stop" your voice broke on the last few words before you fled the scene. Really how could she do this to you? You thought she was a nice person, but to suggest this and not mean it was obviously going to hurt. After all who in their right mind would want an inexperienced virgin when they can have anyone in the whole world?

"Hey, you're beautiful, and I'd gladly take you home for my wife and me to enjoy for the night, you just have to trust we want you in the way we say" she murmured to you a gentle handed rubbing at your back in an attempt to soothe the confusing outburst. Yet both women were no strangers to being used and abused by other people. "You mean it?" You were really speaking more to yourself but when she replied with a Russian pet name that slipped off her tongue, you were a goner, "детка, we've been watching you all evening, no one in this room has caught our interest because we've been focused on you."

A simple nod had Nat leading you to the table to introduce you to her wife. By no surprise, her wife was just as beautiful as the red head. You immediately felt like you were unworthy of their attention. "I um should say I've never, um" you stumbled over your own admission but you could see you had both women's attention. "It's okay детка we will take this slow and at your pace, we truly want to get to know you дорогой" she whispered to you over the loud noise of the party. The other woman who you learned was the Scarlett Witch offered you to come sit closer to the women as you all conversed over small things really, but you were now completely at ease with them, exactly how they wanted you.

Your head warm and fuzzy, you felt an electric pulse of a slender hand trailing your thighs. It appeared you were more sensitive with the alcohol but soon enough you were spreading your legs for the brunette woman with a little help from her magic. From there you exposed your panty covered core to her curious fingers. The woman seemingly unaffected by her actions and holding a conversation with her wife about how much of an asset you'd be to the team. You almost got away with it, almost, but a little whimper escaped you as she accidentally bumped your aching clit.

"Wans" Nat warned, "you best not be playing with the хоро��енькая шлюха without me" she growled the last two words. Truly how rude of you both not to wait for her, especially after her work to bring you to them. "I'm sorry Natty, I just couldn't wait anymore" the woman replied and removed her fingers from your core causing you to release a very disappointed whine. "сейчас, котенок, о тебе хорошо позаботятся" Nat purred before gracing you with a kiss to your neck before taking your hand to lead you away from the party, knowing that her wife will follow behind you.

As soon as you rounded the corner the Russian woman immediately slammed your back against the wall and attached her lips to yours with ease. The need was pouring into the kiss as the brunette woman watched in jealousy. She wanted to be the one kissing you, dragging all the pretty nosies she possibly could, but then again watching her wife touch you was doing unspeakable things to her nether region. "Tashsa" Wanda whimpered feeling the tent begin to show through her dress. "Come котенок, mommy is getting impatient and daddy can't wait to ruin your pretty untouched pussy" Natasha purred leading you to the bedroom once again. Only this time she never got side tracked.

Perhaps you'd had too much, but from there it's hazy, how did you end up absolutely bare for two of the most wanted and famous women in the world? And most importantly why the hell did they have throbbing cocks just desperate for you to take them. The women wanted to do this right, they showered you in love and praises. The made sure to touch and caress every inch of skin they could. And only when your ready did they introduce you to more. "котенок, sort out mommy's problem you caused" Nat demanded, encouraging you to bring your head to her shaft, with another quick check in and some guidance you were now choking on her cock as she forced it down your throat. "Oh fuck natty, this throat is perfect, fuck a good cock whore for me oh!"

With a few strokes to own dick she enjoyed the show, you are a fast learner by the looks of it and she was now struggling to contain herself and refrain from doing all the filthy things she desired to you. Wands sensing her wife's impatience slipped from your throat allowing you to breath as Natasha guided you into a new position. With you now on your hands and knees you were able to suck off wanda and give Nat access to your untouched cunt.

She took it slow, letting you adjust to her size, Wanda telepathically sharing the image of you with teary eyes, choking on her cock as you let Nat deflower you. But soon enough you began to rock backwards in a need for something, yet you didn't know what. "Oh there she is, our flight little girl, a dirty slut for us to use. Oh you've made mommy feel so good котенок she's ready to treat you for all your work, you'd love that huh? Mommy to fill your petty throat with cum?" Nat teased keeping her thrusts slow, "and fuck you're so fucking tight котенок, if mommy doesn't hurry up daddy will paint your pretty pussy white instead."

At the pure threat, Wanda was thrown over the edge into her own pools of bliss, breath heaving as all she could do is mewl yours and her wife's name. You greedily sucked every last drop from her shaft, surprising both women with the fact it was your first time. Only when she was sure she'd finished cumming did she slip from your front and encourage you to slip onto your back so Natasha could see your face. The new position only seemed to encourage the red head, especially with Wanda dropping her head to your breast and skilfully sucking and licking the hardened peaks. She even managed to roughly tweak her wife's right bud causing you both to cry out together.

The gasp you let out when Nat brought one hand from the bed to your throat was something both women wanted on a loop, experimenting with a bit of pressure they discovered a kink for you. "Oh Natty she liked your hand as her necklace. Oh darling is your head all fuzzy?" A broken confirmation left you as Natasha picked up an almost animalistic pace of pounding into you. And when your cries became to loud Wanda guided you to her breast, allowing you to suckle and nip her sensitive skin and effectively soothe you at the same time.

When Natasha came in long spurts of sticky white cum you honestly had no thoughts other than both the women. You lost count of how many times you'd been forced over the edge and just how long you'd been here, but now you didn't care. What a first experience to have. Oh but you weren't done, they immediately started to clean up and look after you, offering food water and cuddles. You wanted to talk, what could this mean? You'd slept with married women? Was it a fling? You hoped not. And Wanda heard all those thoughts and settled you into bed between the women with promises of talking about everything when your brain wasn't still in sub space. You'd be needing a clear mind to decide if you would join the relationship as a third party. But for now, you all slept.

Word count ~ 1839

[extraordinari1y-ordinary-writer]

Hi, I just came across your blog and really liked your work 💕

if I may request ( ofc if you don't like the idea feel free to just ignore this), ( with smut or hinting at possible smut, only if you're comfortable 👍)

- reader is sitting at a bar, and some creepy guy tries to hit on her, and she catches a glimpse of Bucky and walks over trying to pretend that Bucky was a friend just to get the creepy guy to leave her alone, when Bucky was already eyeing her and the creepy guy from the start , after the creepy guy finally gives up and reader thanks him and wants to go home Bucky convinces her to stay with him?? ( with prompt #11 )

- Have a nice day!! 💕

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: Bucky helps reader from a creep at the bar.

Content Warning: Creepy guy; a hint of smut; protective!Bucky; fluff; anything else I failed to mention.

Word Count: 778

Note: Was this requested? Yes! Is this any good? I will leave it up to you guys. I'd like to thank @midorissi for the fic! I hope you like it. I'll come back here and there to make some edits where it's necessary. Any gifs or pictures I use are not mine.

Prompt #11 can be found here.

Gentle reminder that I am always open for feedback! 💕

Minors be cautious (16+)

It was supposed to be a fun night out. You'd go to the bar, drink, and enjoy the evening. But that's not how it turned out. You had maybe half an hour of fun before he turned up—the creep. He glommed onto you fairly quickly and was persistent. You tried turning him down in all the ways you knew how, but it didn't make a difference. He took your refusal as a challenge. You needed convincing, to be won over by any means necessary.

His desperate attempts at flirting became more aggressive. He was getting a little too close to you. His eyes were roaming your body, and his hands were getting a little too comfortable on you.

For what felt like the hundredth time that night, your eyes flickered across the bar, hoping the bartender at least would notice your discomfort. But he was laughing with another customer. You were on the verge of either giving up or making a scene when you met the gaze of a man a few seats down. You'd never felt more relieved in your life.

Blue eyes looked at you in concern, body tensing as if he were about to get up. He paused when your eyes met. You took full advantage of the moment and pulled yourself away from your creep, hurrying to where the other man sat.

"Hey, I've been waiting forever for you," you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his shoulders. One of his went to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You relaxed in the safety of his embrace.

"Sorry I was late," he spoke. His voice nearly made you melt. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

You pulled away slightly and gave him a thankful smile. He gave a smaller smile in return. And for that split second of comfort, you could see him better. Stubble on his jaw and eyes bluer than you imagine. His hair was short and dark, his body sturdy. Even sitting down, it was easy to see how he towered over you.

"What the hell, dude!" That all too familiar voice sent shivers up your spine. You peered over your shoulder. The creep looked genuinely upset—offended, even—at you and this other man. "I was talkin' to her first," he barked.

You let out a surprised noise when the man you embraced stood up. He gently pushed you behind him, making himself a barrier between you and the creep. You don't know exactly what he did to make the creep back off, but when you saw the grimace and the hands go up, you watched in amazement as he walked off.

When your savior turned to face you, you beamed up at him. "Thank you," you exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh my God, I can't thank you enough!"

He chuckled against you, arms wrapping around you again. "Don't mention it," he said. "I'm happy you're okay."

You leaned back to look at him. You gave your name, the smile never leaving your face.

"Bucky," he replied.

. . .

You and Bucky talked for the remainder of the night. He was mischievously funny and sweet, throwing in the occasional compliment to see you get flustered. You were quick to notice how different Bucky was from the creep. Where he could be mischievous in his flirtations, he was also respectful. He was mindful of what made you comfortable and never intruded in your space.

So when he invited you to his place, you accepted. And when he invited you to his bedroom, you were more than happy to oblige. But in the post-sex haze, you assumed that once you caught your breath and cleaned yourself up, you'd have to leave.

But Bucky surprised you again. He had climbed out of bed and used a wet cloth to clean between your thighs. He was so gentle.

"Stay here tonight," he said softly.

"Are you sure?" you stammered. "I-I don't want to impose—"

"You're not." Bucky tossed the cloth somewhere in the room, giving you a soft smile. He laid next to you and kissed you. "I make a mean breakfast," he mumbled into the kiss. "And I'd like to see you again. If that's okay."

You sighed contentedly into the kiss. "I'd love that."

Masterlist

Taglist: @staria9100 @radcollectivesoul @cuddlefishextrodinaire @ramielll @lelialynn @whiminiferous @gracescor3 @identity2212 @winterslove1917 @hailycheyenne @dp-marvel94 @queerponcho @mystrawberrynigt

[azrielbrainrot]

SFW Alphabet with Azriel

note: I've seen a lot of people from a lot of fandoms do this so I have no idea who made the original prompts. Let me know if you do so i can tag them!

also I don't know what this is, just wanted to write down my thoughts

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

I think Azzie is really affectionate but mostly in private. I see him always gravitating around you and giving you small soft touches when you're in front of the ic or other people but then being clingy as hell when you're alone. This man is touch starved, he needs to catch up.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I think you'd have to fist fight Cass for the title but he would be the best friend ever. I mean he's been nothing but soft and helpful with all of his friends. After you get past his millions of trust issues, Az is probably really easy to befriend. It might take a while for you to get to bestfriend but i don't think it would be hard.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He demands cuddles every night. I can see him being the little spoon as often as he's the big spoon, depends on what he's feeling up to that day.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

I think that's all he wants at this point and he's probably such a good cook.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He'd probably be really firm but also really nice about it which would actually make it hurt infinitely worse. I can see him literally going down a list of your qualities and telling you how truly amazing you are while breaking up with you. He'd make sure you were semi alright before leaving as well but still make sure you knew this was final.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Well he craves commitment but he also has been running from it for over 500 years so I think it's a complicated feeling. I think he wants commitment more than anything but is also a tiny bit afraid of it and he only wants it with the right person.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's so gentle I could cry. He's been waiting all his life for someone to love and he will treat you with the most care possible both emotionally and physically.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

I don't see Az being that much of a hugger but he probably gives the best hugs. Both arms (and wings) wrapped around you and face buried in your neck or in your hair type of hugs.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I'm not sure he's ever said it to someone romantically (probably hasn't said it too many times platonically either) so it would probably take a while. He'd want to make sure it will really work out before saying it. You'd probably have to say it first.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I know this is supposed to be sfw but he probably ties you up with his shadows and fucks you within an inch of your life. I don't think he'd be getting jealous all that often (excluding the typical mate possessiveness) but he'd still fuck you extra hard just to make sure. Besides that I think he could actually feel really hurt by it if it's a more serious scenario like imagine you've been hanging out with someone a lot and he starts to feel excluded. In that case I think his abandonment issues would resurface and you'd have to remind him how much you love him and how silly it would be to even entertain the idea of wanting someone else.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He gives the best kisses and I will not take any criticism on this. Like soul consuming type of kisses. Not only does he have 500 years of practice but even when he was young I just know he made sure to perfect it because he can't do anything half assed. His shadows might even give him little tips

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He has such a calming presence that I just know kids love him. And his shadows probably give him brownie points. He's probably awkward at first though.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Well he trains at the crack of dawn so you'd probably wake up to an empty bed :/ but he'd always kiss your cheek before leaving even if you're unaware. Might even leave you little notes on your nightstand sometimes.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Reading in bed together. Cuddling covered in his shadows, completely hidden away from the rest of the world. Tucked away and watching over everyone at parties with the rest of the inner circle. Flying over velaris when his insomnia gets the best of him. Cute picnic dates in an isolated place somewhere only the two of you know. (I didn't wanna say fucking because this is sfw but let's be honest). I think every night with Azriel would make you fall in love with him all over again.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It would take time for Azriel to really open up and I definitely think he'd go bit by bit.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I think he tries to be as patient as possible but let's not forget he almost killed Eris and was the first to speak up when Tamlin was insulting Feyre. He's probably really patient normally, especially with his partner and family, but when he gets angry I think it boils over quickly.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He remembers everything about you to the point you suspect he has a journal with every little detail.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Is it too cheesy to say he cherishes every moment he's had with you? He definitely cherishes just having you there in the moments he felt lonely before. Like coming home from a mission and instead of an empty room you're right there waiting for him, probably staying up to see him even when he tells you it's not necessary. When he has nightmares and you're right there comforting him and kissing his tears away. At family dinners when he doesn't have to feel jealous of his brothers and just reaches out and kisses your hand making you smile at him and have him thank the Mother for the thousandth time for gifting him the blessing of a mate as lovely as you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's really protective. Probably keeps some of his shadows around you to make sure you're alright at all times. But I think he also wants to feel protected since he had so many times when no one was protecting him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He would go above and beyond every time. Always searching for new restaurants that cook your favorite foods or picnic spots that would take your breath away. He would give you the most thoughtful gifts too, things you barely remember mentioning. He'd give you these gifts out of nowhere too. He'd spoil you rotten really.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I don't see him being great at communicating. If he feels hurt by something i think he'd pull back instead of addressing it. I feel like he has some passive aggressiveness in him as well.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

I don't think Azzie is as nonchalant about his looks as he appears to be. He's not as concerned as Rhys but I don't think he's that far off either.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes which makes me a bit sad.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Azriel pets and feeds stray cats and you can't convince me otherwise. He's also the top benefactor of every shelter in the night court.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

People that aren't open minded.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Not sleeping. jk He loves sleeping on his stomach with his face buried in your neck or chest and will literally purr if you pet his hair. I think he'd pull you to him unconsciously as well.

[nickfowlerrr]

darling, it's cold outside.

pairing: charles blackwood x curvy!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. not foot fetish stuff but he does remove her heels for her? lol. pining. little bit of holiday blues mentioned but overall this is pretty fluffy. maybe like the littlest bit soft!dark if you squint.

notes: very happy to be writing for charles again, i've missed him. 🥹

inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated. ❣️

"Mr. Blackwood," you call out as you walk down the empty hallway, your heels clacking on the marble flooring as you go, "I remade the guest bedroom like you asked. If there's nothing else for tonight, I was going to be heading home?"

You look into his open office as you pass, he's not there. Curious...

You continue down the hall, peeking into the study, then the tea room, and then the living room - none of which held him. The television in the living room was on, however, so you assumed he must be close by. But where?

Normally you find it difficult to get more than a few minutes alone from him when you're working, but now the man of the house is as elusive as your holiday spirit seems to be this year.

The pitter patter of the rain outside the castle captures your attention as you pass the grand window.

"Oh no," you sigh as you peer out into the dreary scene. The Christmas lights strung up outside appear blurry through the rain droplets on the glass as the sky grows darker with each moment that passes.

You were supposed to be out of here by 3pm, but Charles, for the first time since you'd started working for him, had many a qualm about your cleaning and tidyings today. You had to go over the bathrooms twice and were instructed to remake his bed before reattending to the guest room. It was nearing 5:30 now, and the rain you were hoping to avoid has clearly already begun - and if the weatherman was correct - would be staying long through the night.

It's not a terribly long walk home, but in your uniform, having to walk home in the rain is a less than ideal situation.

But you resign yourself to your fate as you turn from the window and continue on your search for your boss.

"Mr. Blackwood," you call again, "I'm about to be heading home."

As you finish your sentence, crossing in front of the lavish cranberry colored couch, you notice the throw blanket you had folded and put away earlier is now adorning the cushions. You think to check by the linen closet on the other side of the staircase - hoping to find him somewhere over there so he may dismiss you for the night.

You are about to leave the room when suddenly you hear the kettle whistle sharply from the kitchen. Your brows knit together as you stop in your tracks and turn back around to go toward the kitchen instead.

The sound of your heels as you walk informs Charles of your presence as you enter the room. He turns from the stove, having just moved the kettle from one burner to the other, and looks surprised to see you.

"Oh," he said, nonplussed, "you're still here?" His brow was raised as he looked at you.

You felt stumped yourself, standing blankly for a moment before blinking away your confusion. "Yes, I- I just finished remaking the guest bedroom like you asked," you stammered just slightly.

"Oh, perfect. Thank you. You really are an angel, you know that?" he praised, smiling that ever charming smile at you.

You couldn't help but return one of your own, eyes flicking down almost immediately, unable to hold his gaze.

You sucked in a breath, schooling your face as you looked back up. "Did you want to check it over?"

"No," he brushed off with a shake of his head, turning back to open the cabinet behind him, "I'm sure everything is in order. I trust you."

Your lips twitch as you hold back a disbelieving laugh. He seemed so concerned earlier...

"Alright. Well, if that's everything, Mr. Blackwood-"

"Charles," he corrects.

"...Charles," you amend, "if that was all, I was planning on heading out for the night."

"Of course," he agrees, turning to face you once again, with two mugs in his hands. "Do you have time for some hot chocolate, or will your ride be here soon?"

"Oh, I don't have a ride," you hide a grimace at the reminder of your lonesomeness. Well...maybe you could call a cab? But no, that short ride would just feel like a waste of your hard earned money. And anyway, Charles knows you walk to and from. He's chided you on it before. You'll never forget the way you warmed at his concern for you that first time. He had offered you a ride home, but you refused. It was a clear evening and there really was no reason for any fuss. But of course, his worry still made your heart flutter.

The mugs clink as they're set down on the counter, the sound brining you back to the room. "Sweetheart, it's raining. Supposed to only pick up, too. If you were planning on walking, I don't think that'd be a good idea."

The pet name has butterflies taking flight in your tummy as you work to tamp them down.

"It's not that far of a walk, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I must insist that you stay," he presses, your name sounding so nicely on his tongue. "Please. I would offer you a ride myself but I'm afraid my headlight blew out, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. The guest room would be yours and I could drive you home in the morning. Or, if you insist, the weather should be fairer by then - enough to walk if you really want."

"Oh, really, I would hate to inconvenience you, sir."

"Not at all," he assures you as he prepares both mugs of coco. "In fact, I think it'd be nice to have some company for the holiday. In a house this big, being alone can feel rather lonely."

You consider his words and can't help but agree. "It can feel much the same in a small home, too," you say with a bittersweet smile. "If you really don't mind, I'd be thankful to stay."

"And I'd be thankful for the company," he smiles back. "I was about to start a movie."

You trail behind him slowly as he leads the way back to the living room. When you get to the couch, he sets both mugs down on the coffee table as he gestures for you to sit.

"Please, get comfortable. You've been on your feet all day."

You don't argue and take your seat. The couch is as comfortable as it always looks and you can't help but sigh as you relish the feeling. You almost instinctively kick off your heels, but stop yourself right in time. Charles notices the twitch of your feet, however.

You hold in a gasp as he kneels down before you and takes hold of your foot. His eyes flash up to yours as you stare down at him, lips parted and breath stalled. He slips your heel off and squeezes your foot lightly before repeating the same to your other foot. No words are exchanged as he pops back up and walks to the television. He pushes a tape into the player before sauntering back over to you.

You want to lift a leg up underneath you but don't allow yourself to, especially not while you're in this skirt. Charles takes the spot beside you and you somehow go even more rigid at his proximity.

"I said get comfortable, darling," he chides, pulling you in closer to him, "I meant it."

You allow yourself to fall into his side, and then after a long second, slowly bring a leg up to get more comfortable beside him. Another long moment, and you bring your other leg up as well, repositioning yourself while you shimmy the littlest bit closer.

Charles is warm and the room is a bit cold, so you don't mind how close he actually is. Maybe more aptly, how close you are to him...

You try to focus on the opening scene of the holiday movie you've only heard of before, never actually having had the chance to see it. But as Charles leans over and grabs the throw he'd brought out earlier, he takes over your focus once again. He drapes the blanket over both of you before settling back, essentially right against you now.

Your heart is beating so loud, you're almost sure he can hear it if he listens close enough.

Charles wraps his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively scoot closer still, letting your head rest on his chest trepidatiously. He hums his approval as you do.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly, keeping the cozy and comfortable ambience in tact.

You're quiet, unsure of what to say. Does it feel okay? It feels like everything you've dreamed of since meeting the man. But is it okay? That you're not so sure of. Are you crossing a line? Is this a mistake?... Oh god, what are you doing? You can't lose this job!

You push yourself to sit up, pulling away from Charles as he looks at you, stunned by your haste.

"I- I'm so sorry, Mr. Blackwood. I don't know what's come over me. I should, I should go," you rush your words as you try to stand.

Try.

Charles' hand is on you in an instant, keeping you in place. You look at him with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. He says your name and you don't think to try and get up again.

"Darling, I don't know what you're apologizing for. If I've made you uncomfortable, I should be apologizing to you," he says. "...Have I? Made you uncomfortable?"

You stare into the hypnotic gaze of his cerulean blue eyes, taking in his words. It's a moment before you softly shake your head. "No," you nearly whisper. "No, you haven't." He nods, admiring your face as you peer at him.

"That's good. And, it's Ch-"

"Charles," you cut him off. "I know. Habit," you shrug lightly.

"One you'll hopefully come to break," he smirks. "So, back to my question," he pulls you closer, "Was that okay? Being that close to me?"

You nod meekly, "Yes."

"And was it okay that I put my arm around you?"

Another weak murmur as you unconsciously lean into him, "Yes."

"And just to be sure," he breathes, leaning closer into you in return, "do you really want to leave?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you shake your head. "No."

"One last question," he says as he brings a hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately as he urges you closer. You're nose to nose as he continues, "Would it be okay if I kissed you now?"

You smile softly, your lips brush his as you answer him. "Yes," you nod.

He pulls you in gently and your hand holds his to your face as he finally kisses you, so softly you swear you could melt into the cushions.

You murmur again into the kiss as your eyelids flutter shut. Without thinking, you deepen the kiss. You find your body moving without your permission as you pull yourself more into him - almost crawling along the cushions to get closer to him.

Charles doesn't stop you, in fact, he leans back further - pulling you along the way, moving you up his lap.

Your skirt stretches across your thick thighs as you are maneuvered by him onto his lap. You straddle him as his arms come around you, pulling you to be flush against him - his lips never stopping as he kisses you so completely, so passionately. The intensity only grows more fervent as you return the desire in kind.

You mindlessly move your hips against his and he moans at the feeling. The sound of his pleasure is music to your ears and serves to get you even more worked up. You can feel the slickness as it grows between your thighs. And as you rock your hips again, you can feel Charles' excitement, too.

He is hard beneath you, his erection growing more and more prominent with each second.

"Mhm," you mewl against his lips, breaking for a breath, "Charles," you sigh - rocking once more. The friction sending a wave of sparking pleasure through you.

"Does that feel good for you, angel?" he asks, hands grabbing your hips.

You nod helplessly, "Feels so good."

He kisses you again, harder this time as he holds you in place on his lap. "I know what would feel even better," he says huskily.

He reaches for the button of his slacks and you bite your lip, a few nerves building now. You pull away from him ever so slightly as he begins to undo his pants.

"Um, Charles," you nearly whisper, waiting for a response you don't get.

You watch with heavy lidded eyes and parted, pouted lips as he pulls his straining cock from his briefs. You almost feel frozen for a second before one of his hands comes up and buries itself between your thighs. You yelp, squeaking at the touch.

"Charles, I don't know if we should-"

"Oh, sweetheart, don't worry," he hushes you. You gasp with a tremble and a light moan as his deft fingers slide up and along your clothed sex. You tilt your hips as he feels along your cunt and don't stop him when he moves your underwear to the side.

His eyes are trained on your face, he watches as it contorts with the beginning sparks of your pleasure under his touch. His dick is throbbing, on the verge of starting to leak for you.

He can't wait any longer, he's waited so long already. He needs to have you around him. Needs to feel your warmth envelope him and your weight as you sit on him. He doesn't even need to go all the way with you - not tonight. He just wants to feel you.

His tongue slips past his pillowy lips as he grips himself with one hand, guiding his red tip to your tight, slick entrance. He presses against you but you slightly back away - still unsure.

"I just want to feel you, angel. That's all. I promise. Just need you to sit down and that'll be it. Just sit right here and keep me warm for a bit. You can do that, can't you, darling?"

A sigh of relief escapes you as you slacken a bit into him. You can do that, you decide. You nod your head and bring one of your hands to his shoulders. He presses against you again and this time you move into him. You whine at the sting of his intrusion as he helps ease you down onto his length a little at a time. When you are fully seated, you drop your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands rubs your back.

"Fuck, doesn't that feel nice?" he asks, voice breathy. You only nod against him as your walls stretch around his cock, squeezing him every so often.

"Yes," you huff, "Oh, it feels so nice, Charles."

He pulls you from his neck, brushing his nose against yours as he brings you face to face with him again.

"I knew we'd be a perfect fit," he smirks, kissing you hotly as you press yourself closer to him, returning his kiss.

"I said the guest room was yours, but there's room enough for two in my bed if you'd rather," he simpers.

"I think I just might rather," you whisper with a smile against his lips. You move to sit up but are immediately pulled back down onto his cock. You moan deeply at the movement, the drag of his length along your walls and the way your walls work to keep him inside of you. To be fair, you aren't the most experienced woman in the world, but the feeling of him is unlike anything you've ever felt before. You are entirely full of him and you fear you won't want to ever go empty again.

"Not just yet, sweetheart," he laughs, holding you down. "We aren't even halfway through the movie yet. And we have all night before we take this upstairs, angel. I want to make sure this is a Christmas we'll always remember."