#skinny reader

[iamnotdeadyet]

"The duality of man"

GETO SUGURU

[ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal]

I need kpop x reader fics where the reader is insecure about being too skinny😭 like I always try to wear hoodies and jogging pants bc I’m too small and I don’t like it

[mushyroom-stories]

Imagine Husband!Alcazar

Rated 18+ — mature short content ahead

Husband!Alcazar xF!skinnyreader IMAGINE

CW: mature content, fluffy scenes, swearing(?), use of Google translate.

a/n: english is not my native language so pls be kind if I have misspelled anything, and this is actually my first time writing some imagines just hope I won't mess it up. Enjoy reading(or not):)

✧ Husband!Alcazar that loves you so much, he decided to spoil you every single day. He buys you expensive gifts, gifts that are not yet released, gifts that are rare to find or even hard to buy. You always told him, "Baby, don't spend that much money on me." Well, after you said that, let's just say you forgot you even mentioned it. Who could blame you? He was pounding into your cunt like a wolf in heat. Feeling up your walls so good, making you forget everything you say or even mentioned, just how he likes it.

✧ Husband!Alcazar Who just absolutely loves groping your boobs. You have body insecurities, but he is right there, usually touching all over you reminding you that your always gorgeous, making sure nothing is left untouched. "Fuck, Милая, you look gorgeous today," he says, having eyes on you with hunger and literally being able to become a predator anytime just by looking at you wearing that dress(a/n: that he bought just for you, did I say it's limited edition?). "You always say that, babe, but how do I really look?" you ask, somewhat sounding nervous. His big hand strokes your flat chest, groping it affectionately. "I told you-you're gorgeous, Любимая. Forget the party. I want you right here, right now." He's a sweetheart, although you can hardly walk for two days afterwards, but who cares?.

✧ Husband!Alcazar Who will take risks being able to fuck you anywhere-on the stairs, kitchen, living room, porch, backyard, his office, etc. This man has a high sex drive and can go multiple rounds without even finishing after the first two. That just shows how much he loves you, pleasuring you first until his satisfied❤️

✧ Husband!Alcazar Who's very clingy with you. The second you go to the bathroom after finishing up, he immediately carries you to the bed to cuddle. This man is not shy about showing PDA with you; he’s always touching your hand, shoulder, lower back, hips, and hugging you from behind. In short, he is very clingy with you.

✧ Husband!Alcazar Who buys you lingerie on your birthday, valentines, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. But oh, how he absolutely loves the lingerie that he bought for you on Halloween and Christmas. Pounding into your cunt like a mad man, your moans and skin slapping filling up the room, "that's right Милая, cum for me." He said in a lowly tone, his fingers playing with your clit, you were shaking letting out a big moan as you came down from your orgasm, his cock and fingers now coated from your cum "fuck, ты выглядишь так великолепно, кончая на меня вот так" before following suit after you, filling you up with his hot seed. Sigh, thoughts.😮‍💨

[iceprincessviviane]

Why do you note that the reader is skinny? Just curious!

Hi!

I wanted something to write for very skinny readers ^^

I don't see a lot of that specific content and I can pretty relate to the case.

Thank you!

[eccentricallygothic]

| Too Sweet |

Description: You and Steve try to put 'it' in for the first time after his serum procedure. 

Pairing: Soft-Dark 40's Post-Serum Steve Rogers | Lover!You. 

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Steve, 40's misogyny and courting bc let's be so fr, obsession, daddy kink, allusions to spanking, dumbification, power imbalance, corruption kink, fluffy smut, p-in-v penetration that y'all are STRUGGLING with, dash of breeding kink, they love each other, smut with plot.  

Note: @chxrryhansen 's new Too Sweet Steve edit is responsible for this and she doesn't even know it, pfft!

.

"Steve!" Your protest is half giggle and half whine as you wince before landing a punishing smack to your lover's shoulders. "Ouch!" His body is also vibrating due to the humor that the two of you find in this strange situation. 

"Come on, baby" he rasps out against your ear, his elbow that presses into your pillow besides your head causing it to dip towards itself. "I am trying my best here, bear with me a little" try he sure is doing. You can almost feel him fighting against his impulse to just fuck all and push inside your tiny entrance that has never faced a girth this big. 

"I knowww~" you whine as you press your knees against his sides that have become wide and muscular since the procedure. "But it's still ouchie" Steve sighs as he freezes the little bit of pushing that he was doing.

You feel bad, you really do. 

Because it is as hard for you to hold back as it is for him.

Pressed up against your lover that you haven't properly had like this in a week, your bare skins nearly leeched to each other's, one of his rough manly hands fondling your breasts as the one he's holding up his heavy body with strokes your hair to comfort you, the feeling of his stern muscles digging into the tender insides of your thighs and then his cock that you need to save your life at this point so close to your weeping walls yet so far away that you can lose your mind from the frustration. 

But it just hurts so fucking much! 

You had always thought your lover's size to be a decent one because it kept you satisfied and very happy. 

But now…

This. 

You did not want to be an ungrateful brat, as Steve would say, because you weren't a stranger to the valor that he held for his country and you had always done your best to cheer him on so you weren't to be misunderstood.

But good Lord above, they had swapped your cotton candy lover for a rough and tough beast who couldn't bear you being out of his sight for more than a few minutes. 

It seemed that whatever voodoo they worked in that fancy machine had also amplified his obsession with you, like everything else. 

Steve sighs as he kisses your cheek softly. You understand that he's a man and he has his needs that he has been compromising for a week because you recoil at the sight of his cock each time he tries to seduce you. "I've already stretched you out with three fingers, baby. At this point I might as well put my fist in there" you're on thin ice and you know it. 

No man is as considerate as he has been all these days as it is. 

Your cheeks burn and you flush hotly in embarrassment, letting out another whine as a result before landing a flustered punch on his arm. "I- It's not my fault if your fist would still be smaller than your dick!" Though your tone is one that has gotten you bent across his lap more times than you can count, the manner in which the indirect praise boosts his ego saves you this one time.

And his fingers weren't the easiest thing in the world either because they've grown three times their size!

"Aw, is Daddy's cock too big for your little baby pussy, honey?" You cannot help but let out a horrified guffaw as you cover your mouth, eyes wide. 

"Oh, my GOD, Steve!" He is grinning at how appalled you look because of his obscene words. "Stop with that! I told you the other day that it's not right!" You have no idea how, but two months ago your lover had picked up this strange pet name for himself that he liked to use whenever you two were having an intimate moment. 

"Oh, but baby" your back arches in an instant as you grunt and feel your claws fly to his shoulders that they dig into. He has started to push again. But your pussy is nearly as stubborn as he is, it seems. Because neither wants to back down. "Who put it in your pretty little head that you can decide what's right and wrong around here?" 

Your thighs tremble at the authority in his tone and you whine, feeling your ass cheeks clench at the way the girth of his tip feels around your sore band of muscles. Fuck, this is like losing your virginity all over again but only worse. 

You almost feel mad at yourself.

Because you're so wet and prepared.

Ready.

Just why can't it go where you need it most?!

"N- No…" The smell of his shampoo hits your nose when he dips his head into the crook of your neck to make a new love bite, both to try and distract you as well as mark you as his. "D- Didn't mean that, Shtevie, sowwy~" you mumble meekly and he deeply hums against your skin. 

"Good girl" if it weren't for the way in which one of his hands lovingly caress your scalp, you would have teared up due to how small you suddenly feel. "Now shush up for Daddy and let him do this bratty little pussy in" an involuntary gasp leaves you again but you suppress it by kissing his moist temple so he can't hear it and think you are being disrespectful. Your baby pussy has irritated him enough this past whole week already. 

"Owiee…" You grunt again as you feel it breach its way into the initial curve as it has been doing for hours now. "S- So big, Daddy" what? No! You're not like your naughty lover! Y- You're just trying to somehow calm him down so you don't get in trouble! 

Like you did when you initially did not respond to his unrelenting advances in school and he ended up scoring really low in a test because of that so he dragged you out of drama class to bend you over and teach you a thing or two about manners and how to treat those who are nice to you. Then he made you apologize, kiss his cheek and cook him dinner at your house to make it up to him. 

You are glad he did that though, because Steve is your once in a lifetime and there can never be another like him. 

He just knows best. 

But that doesn't mean you are okay with getting punished just because your pussy is too tiny!

"Good babygirl" your lover grunts against your nipple that his mouth is latched onto now, hips doing their best to not damage you but still weasel his cock past the hard round shaped barricade of your pubic bone. "I know it's scary but you can trust Daddy because he knows that if that pretty little pussy can push out his brats one day, it can surely take this cock too." Steve loves how you shudder under him at the thought but still answer him Yes, Daddy. 

Because you are all his to do with whatever he pleases.

That is the reason why he shook hands with HYDRA and wiped out SHIELD the day he was transformed. 

Because HYDRA had promised him a comfortable future with you where he would not have to part with you for too long but still provide you the life that you truly deserved as his sweet little girl who loved and accepted him in a state that everyone had treated as a laughing stock. 

You were worthy of the world.

And he was determined to give it to you. 

.

I didn't mention the hydra plot twist up there because well, surprise! 

[teddybeartoji]

Attention please 🗣non sexual nudity with bf/bsf satoru...

ATTENTION!!!!!! ATTENTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🗣🗣🗣🗣

going skinny dipping with best friend!gojo.

it's a warm sunny day and satoru has dragged you outside. he heard about a new hidden hiking trail and he obviously wanted to check it out with you.

so, that's how you find yourself on a beautiful-beautiful forest trail. the birds are singing their little love songs above your heads as you let satoru lead you through the woods. sweat dribbles from your temples and your feet are beginning to hurt but you're not complaining.

you can't. you can't complain when satoru turns around and shows you his bashful smile, letting his dimples shine freely. his cheeks are completely flushed and his hair is starting to stick to his forehead and he just looks so fucking good.

"you gotta keep up with me! c'mon-c'mon!"

you roll your eyes at his words. "i am literally on your ass, satoru."

"ohhh, sexy!" he winks at you and laughs when you flip him off. you follow him up the little hill and you're met with gorgeous scenery. the sun is still high in the pretty blue sky with no clouds anywhere in sight and the trees paint almost a perfect circle around the shore of a lake.

"satoru! you didn't tell me we could go swimming!" you scream at him and he hears the pout in your voice.

your eyes are glued to the sight before you, making you miss the way satoru stares at you. "i didn't know! i didn't know! i didn't know!"

"wait..." you face him with a quirked brow. "what do you mean 'you didn't know'? you didn't properly look up the trail beforehand?"

he's quiet as his expression tells you everything you need to know and he earns a slap against his chest.

"what is wrong with you?! what if we got lost?!"

"it's just one trail? one road? how would we get lost?" he questions, surpressing his laughter at your fake-angry tone.

you just shake your head at him. "i hate you."

he sends you an air kiss back and you thank the sun for successfully hiding the growing tint on your cheeks. dick. you brush by him and start making your way to the wooden dock that floats in the water. satoru watches how you skip down with a smile on your lips and his heart is doing flips in his chest. he watches you drop to your knees and reach your hand in the water before turning to him with an even bigger grin.

"it's so warm!"

"yeah?"

you nod excitedly and immediately start stripping your bag and your clothes, leaving satoru staring at you like a dumb fish out of the water. "what... are you doing?"

"going swimming, duh." you rip off your shoes and your pants, only leaving you in your shirt and socks.

"but..."

you stare at him with a big grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling in the hot sun. "what? you scared?"

"wha— i'm not scared." satoru stammers back, fiddling with his fingers, clearly a little flustered. he's silly.

"get naked then."

"i—"

"or don't. i'm not pressuring you, but i am going in." you take off the socks and the shirt and satoru glues his eyes at the lake behind you. unable to hold back your laugh, you tease your best friend. "yeah, if a little skin gets too scary for you, just look at the water."

the tips of his ears grow red and he drops his bag in defeat. "i am not scared of you or your body, alright?"

"look at me then."

satoru gojo - the man with thee biggest staring problem in the world cannot hold eye contact for the life of him right now. and your cheeks hurt from smiling.

his best friend is standing a few feet from him, only clad in their underwear and well... how is he supposed to keep eye contact? it's not like he likes you or anything. it's not that at all.

"do you like me or something, satoru?"

it's not that at all.

you laugh behind your hand and watch the heat bloom on his face.

"you don't have to come in, it's okay. i'll make it quick, yeah?"

taking a step closer, satoru's breath hitches. you raise your hand to swipe over his face, closing his eyes with a giggle and he wraps his fingers around your wrist with a pout. "i wanna come too."

"yeah? you wanna come too?"

"see, sometimes i think you're just so much worse than me." satoru tugs on your hand when you try to run away, keeping you close to him. the flush on his cheeks seems to be permanent but the corners of his lips are starting to curl upwards again. "you're so much worse actually."

"oh, nooo... i'm soo terrifyingly funny.... nooo....."

the sun has nothing on your bright big smile as you blink up at him.

"are you gonna join me then?"

he nods.

his grin widens when you finally yank your hand from his grasp and take a few steps back toward the edge of the dock. "well, c'mon– get naked, stupid."

he starts by peeling off his own shirt. "you're stupid."

"i'm faster though!" without giving him another second to catch up, you pull of your underwear and jump into the lake. submerged under the refreshing water, your heart beats louder than ever, giddy from sharing this moment with satoru. you poke your head back out and push the water from your eyes with a smile that reaches back behind your ears and are met with a stumbling satoru trying to take off his socks.

"hey, you had a head start!" he's jumping from one leg to another and he looks so cute. "dick!"

laughter echoes over the lake and through the woods, a sound resembling the lovesongs of the little birds that live there. he removes his boxers and then he's already cannonballing into the water right next to you.

his soaked head of hear pops up and he's pulling in big breaths of air, making you choke on your own giggles.

"OH FUCK! THAT'S NOT WARM AT ALL." he splashes you, reveling in the smile lines that rest on your skin. "i think i lost a couple of inches."

his joke makes you actually cough and his head falls back toward the sun, eyes closed, as he bellows out a laugh.

"oh no, poor little satoru..." his head whips towards you and you take the moment to splash him back.

"what did you just call me?!"

you let out a loud shriek when he suddenly starts swimming to you and you decide to dive in order to escape his wrath. it just feels so good. the water washes off the built up sweat from the hike and gives you life.

coming up for air, you have a second to look for satoru before he's bursting out from under the water, shaking his head and hair at you like a dog.

"you're dumb."

"you're an idiot."

silence.

satoru counts the freckles on your face and you count the stars in his eyes.

"aren't you glad i dragged you here, hm?" he wiggles his brows at you, expecting another splash that never comes.

a soft little mhmm is what he gets instead. full of fondness and admiration; the scenery, the sun, the water, the boy before you —

you are glad he dragged you here.

+ thank u nonnie for this cute little idea<33333

[daintylovers]

oh yeah

[chaoticbardlady99]

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! Reader) Part 1

Synopsis: You approach Astarion at the Tiefling party and get rejected. Everyone else and Astarion knows he made a mistake, but you certainly don't.

Author Note: I LOVE Shadowheart- okay. Love her, but she is also my favorite hot girl rival in my fiction. No idea why. I just also love the idea of her being best friends with a Selunite by the end of her journey (or ship her hardcore with an Oathbreaker Paladin)

CW: Sad boi rejection hours, mentions of sex, mentions of Dead Dove.

Based off of a post by @golden-baby

(I also listened to Avril Lavigne’s Nobody’s Fool while writing this and it’s very good if you haven’t heard it)

(IDK Who this gif belongs too, but it is not mine)

You have always been the first person to throw yourself into a situation and help others- it was what had drawn you to being a Cleric of Selune in the first place. 

 You miss being a young cleric studying the life domain under the stars and the bright moon. You miss not feeling so terrified. 

 All this tadpole has brought you is anxiety and fear, you have a feeling it will be okay. You are here for a reason and you trust that Selune needs you to trust her. 

 Meeting Shadowheart had certainly confirmed that- she obviously was plummeting down the wrong path, but she has also flipped this thinking on you a few times. Only, you cannot understand following a Goddess as cruel as Shar. She has obviously brought serious damage to Shadowheart’s life and you are determined to support her- whether she gets away from Shar’s doctrine now or fifty years from now, you will be here to help her when the time comes.

 In spite of your differences, you actually go to the same spot and pray together- farther away from each other, but the sentiment is still there. Occasionally you drink together after a particularly weird or bad day. You find you both can talk about your religious beliefs and you are open to hers which in turn has begun to show her how to be open to your religious doctrine. It’s nice to have someone to talk about the bigger powers at play- even if that person opposes your Goddess so viciously. You don’t really care- you know followers of Shar are hurt people hurting people. They need love just as much as the next person. 

 Lae’zel has been a tougher nut to crack, but you have provided sympathy where you can and support her. You promised her that you would all head to the mountains and search for the Creché. If the cure is there- she will get it. That has made Lae’zel feel better a few times.

 Karlach just wants a good life and to talk about the joys of Life, Gale wants someone to talk to about magic and help finding magic items, and Wyll just wants to feel accepted and like he is still the mighty Blade of Frontiers.

 Then there is Astarion.

 You have been head over heels for the man since he knocked you to the ground and questioned you. You could probably stare at him forever if it wasn’t so Gods damn creepy. 

 You practically bend over backwards to help him- far more than you do for others, anyhow. He seems to like you and you have definitely thought about asking him to go on a date with you at some point. 

 But then you think about how not romantic having a tadpole in your head is and nix the idea. 

  You listen to him whenever he speaks to you, any books you find usually end up going to him. Gale is still pretty upset about the Necromancy of Thay. 

 Any new short swords, daggers, arrows, bows, crossbows, armor, potions, etc- you name it, you probably already gave it to him. You often think you may be far too obvious with your affections, but it’s the only thing you know kind of appeases him.

 Every decision you make he despises and makes a point of mocking you for. Karlach is often telling him to knock it off, but that usually just makes it worse so you just laugh it off even though it hurts. You just remind yourself that he lived as a slave for the last 200 years and you are the first to admit that your Goddess failed to save him. You don’t know why, but it is what it is. Maybe one day he will see that not all people are his ruthless master. 

You also let him drink from you every three or so days. If he is injured in battle- you are first to offer him another drink. 

 Astarion calls you, “Darling '' from time to time and you thought that might be something, but you also heard him call Karlach and Shadowheart that too. 

 You feel so conflicted when you go to bed- he seeks out Shadowheart and never you at bedtime. He spends all night talking to her about Gods only knows what. You are certain some of it is mocking you, but you try to remain optimistic. He wouldn’t do that- you have been nothing but kind to him. What could he even say?

 Tonight is the first night that he is by himself and not talking to Shadowheart. You can do it- just go up and ask him if he would like to take a walk with you. No big deal. 

 “Hi Astarion,” you say softly, “are you having fun?”

“No- no thanks to you, by the way.”

 Your smile falters slightly, but you rebound. 

“I’m sorry- I wasn’t trying to ruin your night.”

 Astarion rolls his eyes and flashes a smile that makes your breath catch. 

 “I suppose it couldn’t be helped, Darling,” he says with a dismissive wave, “you and all your do gooder nonsense was bound to get us here eventually.”

 You smile brightly- happy with the positive step forward. 

“How rude of me- I forgot to ask- how can I help you this evening?” 

  This is the big moment- you can do it! 

“I was-“ you clear your throat, take a deep breath and avoid his eyes, “I was wondering if you would want to go on a walk with me on the beach later?” 

 Astarion blinks a few times and you think you see the hint of a smile- it makes you feel slightly optimistic. 

 Until it turns into a snort and a laugh he can’t hold back.

“You are so naive,” your heart drops, “whatever gave you the impression that I would want to ‘go on a walk’ with you?” 

 You frown, a lump in your throat is beginning to form and you feel so embarrassed that you wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain yourself.

“I- you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I am glad we could clear that up.”

“Me too,” you say with a forced smile, “good night.”

“You don’t have to-“

 You walk away- all the horror and heartbreak simply being far far too much to bear. How could you be so positively stupid? 

 Your mother always chastised you for this kind of thing- you give and give and give, hoping it will make people love you, but it never works. They will take everything from you and then some because they can. 

 You sit on an alcove overlooking the camp- far enough away that you hopefully won’t be spotted by anyone. You wish you hadn’t- you just barely catch a glimpse of Astarion dragging the all alluring and elusive Shadowheart away into the forest. 

 You are diminished to tears- your heart feels like it has splinters all over it and your stomach feels like it may twist before collapsing in on itself. 

 You are about to give up and leave, but the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention. 

“It’s just me,” Wyll says with his hands up, a friendly smile on his face, “you seemed like you may need a friend.”

 You laugh and wipe your tears away, “and here I thought I was hiding it so well.”

 “You do, my friend,” Wyll says before putting a hand on your shoulder, “what troubles you?” 

 “You are going to think I’m stupid.”

 Wyll laughs lightheartedly, “I have seen and done my fair share of ‘stupid’.” 

 You inhale deeply and tell Wyll your story- from start to finish. You are a crying mess by the end of it- so much so that Wyll actually maneuvered you and began cradling you in his arms. 

 His heartbeat helps steady you- the connection to nature and the ground is helpful. It makes it all feel a bit better- you suppose.

 You eventually sit back down next to Wyll- your face is blotchy and red, tear stained and puffy. 

“I have noticed that you give Astarion all of you,” Wyll says with a frown, “spirit, body, heart, and mind.

“Maybe it is time to stop- set some boundaries for yourself. I am sorry that you did not get the answer you wanted, but at least now you know and that is a blessing. You can now look for someone who truly wants you and gives equally as much as they take.” 

 You nod. You had hoped to hear more of a, “he will come around” message, but you know this is the better, healthier message. You despise it, but it’s true.

 You and Wyll spend time talking about other things. You tell him how you hope to open your own clinic one day and help people who cannot afford it. Wyll tells you about the Sword Coast, his failings, and his own trauma. 

 He teaches you different constellations, the different flora in the area, and what the fishing season was like when the town was functioning and Wakeen’s rest was up and running. It sounds like it was a beautiful place to live before all of this nonsense erupted.

 It’s fun and Wyll makes you feel seen and appreciated. He still isn’t Astarion, but you know it will take some time before you can look at someone else and that’s okay.

 Wyll walks you back to camp and you don’t bother to look over at Astarion’s tent nor do you go that way like you usually would. You noticed he was back and so was Shadowheart. Both of their clothes were ruffled- it’s been at least two hours so you can only imagine.

  “Good night, Tav,” Wyll kisses you on the back of the hand before engulfing you in a large hug that you gladly accept, “sleep well- tomorrow will be better.”

 You go to your bedroll and begin to open your healing magics book when a knock on your tent post gets your attention. Maybe it’s Wyll. He did say he enjoyed talking to you, maybe he wants to spend the night? That doesn’t seem overly realistic though- he is a perfect gentleman.

“Come in,” you say, still not looking up, “what’s up?” 

“I was hoping I may be able to get a small snack?”

 Oh. It’s Astarion.

 You just fed him earlier today before the party. Usually you would say yes, but Wyll is right- you can’t keep giving him everything and leaving nothing for yourself. 

“I- I am really sorry,” he frowns and his ears even droop, “I am just really tired and I don’t-“

“No worries, Tav.” He says with a forced smile on his face, “have a good evening.”

  You are shaking after he leaves the tent. You cannot believe you just did that. You set a whole boundary. 

 No he did not call you by a pet name nor did he flirt with you. Yes he frowned and it made your heart hurt, but you need to start putting yourself first. 

  You still cry yourself to sleep and you wake up early enough to wash your face with cold water- any evidence of your heartbreak is completely gone. 

     ***********************************************

 You have managed to really avoid Astarion for the last four, almost five days. You let him feed because you don’t want him to starve to death, but you found out that casting “calm” on yourself beforehand keeps your adrenaline from kicking up so you no longer react to him.

 You cry afterwards, obviously, but he doesn’t need to know that. He is right- he never did anything to make you believe he liked you and it was very naive of you to assume he did. However, you do commend yourself for your courage to try and you even walked away with your dignity. 

 At the end of the day, you are proud of yourself and you love yourself more than anything. You will continue your mission and continue to help people because you enjoy helping people. Right now, this group of weirdos needs you and you need you so that you all make it out of this nonsense alive.

 That is more than enough to keep someone busy.

 First there was a Hag to fight, then you unfortunately had to kill a monster hunter (you didn’t talk to Astarion about it afterwards, that is Shadowheart’s job), and fought a bunch of spiders off- which also brought up the Necromancy of Thay argument again. That was exhausting. 

 Astarion opened the door on a Bugbear and Ogre bumping uglies, you also had to really put your foot down so that he wouldn’t send a dark Gnome flying. He was quite frustrated with you, but he understood your reasoning enough to not do it. 

 Then there were the Gnolls and Astarion had opened the chest which caused the Zhentarim guild to attack and try to make you all explode. Thankfully you were able to save that weird artist, but no one from the guild survived. 10/10 supplies though. 

 There are things to be done and places to see. Exploring the Underdark first made the most sense. It upset Lae’zel, but she said she trusts your judgment which warms your heart. 

 It is certainly not a quick or easy journey to get to the entrance inside the abandoned temple of your Goddess. You can hear Shadowheart saying snarky things- Astarion snorts here and there, but doesn’t actually chime in for once. 

 At least you get some relief from that for a day. You wrap your hand around your Moondrop pendant and you already feel the love of Selune flow through you. You kept the statue as well and you keep it next to you- last night you actually slept with it in your hand. 

 You had grown up exceptionally poor and your parents died from some disease in the mines where you were all imprisoned. The mine was eventually raided by Selune clerics and paladins- you immediately knew that is what you wanted to be. Selune had saved you right before you were being shipped to another location and you lived with her clergy ever since.

 You were grateful you had a potion of flying as well as the support of the others to keep the moonstone. Even Astarion expressed his approval when Shadowheart became upset. You waited until it killed the Minotaur, of course. The splash of blood that hit the group wasn’t necessarily welcome, but oh well.

  And at least you don’t have a ridiculous name.

 You snicker to yourself as you walk- earning an odd look from Gale who is covered in Minotaur blood. You urge him to keep talking about whatever book he finished last night and he gladly dives back into the subject. 

 Finding a decent spot to camp was actually pretty easy. The camp is beautiful and your tent is set up next to Karlach’s. She convinces you to make a massive tent fort and Fort Tavlach is born. 

 You pass a bottle of wine back and forth as you talk. Karlach is letting you hug Clive as you talk about the tiefling party and the aftermath of everything.

“Is that why those two are sitting next to each other so miserably?” 

You cock your head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“What I mean is they look miserable and haven’t stopped fighting for the last three days,” Karlach states with a raised eyebrow, “have you really not been paying attention?”

 You shake your head. Karlach gapes at you, chugging a bit of the wine before passing it back.

“Well- I have been waiting to tell you all day, but Shadowheart finally told me what they were fighting about.”

 “Oh, Karlach, I really should-“

“Two nights ago, they tried to be intimate again and he said your name during the act itself.”

 You simultaneously choke on and spit out your wine- some of it comes out of your nose. You can’t stop coughing and Karlach is dying laughing- she is crying she is laughing so hard. You are crossing your arms and uncrossing them in front of your face- a look of bewilderment as you process what just happened.

“mE!?”

 This just makes Karlach laugh even harder, she goes running straight for behind a rock- screaming that she is going to pee herself.

 The entire camp is looking over in curiosity and you just wave awkwardly. You catch Astarion’s gaze from the corner of your eye and he looks sad- maybe even a little angry.

 He storms off to his tent and Shadowheart rolls her eyes, glaring at you before going off to her own tent. 

 Karlach eventually comes back and you both continue your drunken gossip.

“That- that can’t possibly be true,” you say, “I asked him on a date and he told me I was naive to think he would ever want to be with me that way.”

“What!?” Karlach looks like she may light the entire camp on fire, “why didn’t you say something! We could have-“

“No,” you chastise, “he is right. It was naive of me to assume- my hurt is no one else’s fault. I also chose to give him everything I had. 

“He doesn’t owe me, I wanted to do those things,” you affirm, Karlach is smiling softly, “I still adore him, of course, but this is for the best, you know? Wyll says it means I can set my sights elsewhere now that I know Astarion isn’t into me.” 

“That is very big of you, Soldier, look at you in your big kid pants.”

You roll your eyes and give her a playful shove.

“He has been hurt and used enough for a dozen lifetimes- I don’t want to contribute to that hurt.” 

“You are a good person, Soldier,” Karlach hands you the bottle of wine, “you know- Halsin would be an amazing lover. I am sure of it.”

 “You think?”

“Oh ho- let me tell you what I think, Soldier-“

 Karlach goes into her wild theories and you try so hard to listen intently, but your drunken mind is stuck on Astarion and wondering if he is okay.

[ronearoundblindly]

Some Steve for you to enjoy 🥰🫶🏻

Gurl, this f***ed me up! I wanted to try to make it a snippet of Item 107 or The Cinder King, but the muses were just like "you know what you need? emotional damage." So now here we have my first semi-legit period piece (which has zero useful era detail eh) and truly is just the carrier for skinny!Steve love. Hint: It's thirsty, smutty love with hardly any plot ANGST.

Hello and welcome to Lexi's most self-indulgent fic ever. It's got everything: crippling insecurities about my real-life stuff, horniness unmatched even if there were sex pollen shot directly into their faces, and everyone is touch-starved. \o/ Enjoy! WC probably close to 3k but idk because I'm too afraid to look back at it. *slams post button*

Turned away again, Steve "4F" Rogers steps out of the recruitment center to see you standing there, staring up at the posters promising glory.

People hustle around you, several even knocking into you, but you remain transfixed, invisible. You're clutching your purse like a lifeline.

Down one step, worn-through shoes barely hiding every seam in the cobblestone, Steve has to get closer because that's the direction of home and a lonely, empty apartment he can hardly afford. He has to pass by. He has to, but then he sees the amber light reflect on trails of tears down your cheeks.

He has to stop.

"Miss?" Steve clears his throat, his own arm smacked by a rowdy man who then swats at your ass just as Steve tries to get your attention again.

You jolt and turn to him in surprise, hand flying up to cover a sob, sweeping to wipe the evidence of emotion from your face.

Fast--faster than Steve really processes--he's shouting for the guy to apologize before the guy makes to advance, Steve presses himself between you and the asshole still laughing at disrespecting you, and then he--Steve--is getting shoved into the alley with you still at his back.

It's dusk. The alley is nearly black. Steve can hear you crying but he's slipped on the stones wet from an afternoon rain. He scrambles to right himself.

Amidst the cries, he hears grunts of anger and resistance, terror creeping into his chest as Steve thinks you're being assaulted.

"Piece of shit," you bite out. The silhouette of you hurling your bag at the man's face repeatedly is clear from where Steve crouches, backlit as you are by the movie theater marquee.

Then the guy is down on the ground, too, being stomped on by your two-inch heel. "Piece of fucking shit."

"Woah," Steve jumps forward to hold you back. "Woah, language, ma'am. Let's go. Just leave him."

He has a weak arm around your waist, but you kick at the man one more time for good measure, hissing "liar" before turning to follow.

Your hand in his, Steve hurries through the streets, picking the ones he knows are busier but maneuverable to make sure you're not being pursued. Each time he looks back, he sees your sinking face, more tears, more exhaustion, and he makes a flash decision.

He doesn't stop until he locks the door of his apartment behind you both, and you break down on the bare wood floor.

"You hurt? Did he hurt you?" Steve's boney knees land a few inches from yours and he leans over, his long fingers brushing over your pinned hair and stiff curls that dislodged in the commotion. "You're alright. You're safe here."

Where your legs crumple underneath you, your slip lays over your thigh, uncovered by the skirt pooling on the other side of your hip. He can see the outline of a garter strap and the top of your stocking beneath the silky material. Steve's always loved pretty, delicate things. He also loves the faint bulge of flesh around the restraints.

There's meat on your bones, something to hold onto, and he shakes his head, chastising himself for noticing all the wrong things about the crying woman in his home. His lonely, empty home.

Steve attempts to think of anything other than your body.

"Do you know him? What'd you call him a liar for?"

You sigh in defeat, hands flopping into your lap, and confess that it wasn't about him so much as a man not here anymore. Gone. To war. You tell Steve a rambling tale of excuses and snide comments, of a parting that left you wondering why that man--any man--bothered to be with you in the first place, of a surety that you weren't ever wanted.

"I thought he loved me but he lied."

Steve sits cross-legged in front of you now, enthralled and utterly confused. Why would anyone...?

"That's the worst part," you exclaim, voice cracking. "I don't know. I'll never know." Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "I heard today that he died. Don't know where. Don't know when. And I hate that I still care."

"But he wasn't good to you," Steve soothes and wraps his hand around yours, "and he wasn't good for you."

All you do is shrug and hide your face. Tears falls to the fabric below your eyes and seep through in dark patches.

He scoots forward and lifts your chin with a gentle nudge. When your puffy red eyes meet his, he's struck by how lucky he feels to see you like this. It's odd to think someone who knew you more and for so much longer couldn't feel infinitely more attached and protective. You're so vulnerable, so open, so...

"You're beautiful." Steve's tongue swipes over his dry lips. "You're so beautiful."

The words are loaded heavier than tanks and pack the punch of a bomb. He can tell you don't truly hear him by the way you shrink and shake your head out of his hold.

"Don't do that," he pleads. "Please don't hide from me."

"You don't know me."

"No, but I--"

"You don't even know my name!"

He sits back and offers his hand.

"Hi, I'm Steve. It's nice to meet you, and I think you're beautiful."

"That's stupid," you lash out, bitterly spitting the half-hearted, heart-breaking words. "You must be an idiot, Steve."

It's not the first time he's heard it, but it is the first time he's not mad at hearing it. He believed those things, too, long ago, before his mom convinced him to see the possibilities in one's struggles. If you perceive it as an obstacle, it is an obstacle. Perceive it as an opportunity instead and use it. Those aren't her exact words, but Sarah Rogers has so many different ways of teaching the same fundamental lessons that Steve can't remember the phrases anymore.

He can remember the feeling. He remembers seeing both obstacles and opportunities.

"Is it stupid to want to touch you?" he whispers. "Because I would love to touch you."

The question is purposefully leading since he knows from your story that's exactly what you long for. It'll be more impactful if he shows you he longs for that too.

Slowly--so slowly--his hand comes up to your cheek again, his fingers tucking behind your neck.

"I don't want your pity." There's still bitterness but no power behind it. You gently shift closer and meet him halfway.

He's kissed girls before, he's fooled around, and he has, in fact, slept with one girl. They went all the way--twice--which means Steve knows what it is to be pitied intimately. He knows what it's like to want something so badly you don't care what the motivation is.

You deserve to know his motives.

"I don't pity you." His focus falls to your quivering lip. "I want to make you happy." He's close. He's so close his breath rolls warm over your face. "I want to make you smile."

A soft whimper leaves you just as his mouth arrives.

"I want you," he says into the kiss.

Instead of fighting, you grab at his jacket, pulling him until you're both falling into the stand lamp. You taste of salt and something sweet he can't put his finger on. Steve resolves to put that on the list of things to find out about you.

He keeps kissing you as you both fall, the lamp now wedged at an angle by the side table. Despite the tangle of tongues, Steve keeps his hands to himself. He doesn't quite have enough answers.

"What do you want, beautiful?"

Hesitant as he pulls away, gripping worn leather like your purse in the street, your eyes dart between his. You're a dream beneath him, but that sounds too selfish to voice.

"May I..." Steve is already panting "...get you off the floor? More comfortable?"

Maybe you haven't been able to say the words, but Steve doesn't need more convincing to know you want him.

He could tell from the way you pawed at him. He could tell from the multiple times you crashed him into the walls along the hall to makeout more. He could tell from the way you melted like hot butter at his every returned touch, but finally, you two made it to his bed.

He'd be embarrassed by the lumpy old thing if there weren't a curvy, luscious dame standing with wide legs at the foot of it, letting his tie slip through your hands as he sits stunned.

Steve swallows thickly.

"Let me see you." It comes out as more of an order than the hopeful question he intended, but when he sees the command shiver through you, he feels six-foot-six and powerful as all hell.

You two share the burden of unbuttoning all of your layers, spinning you a few times to release front and back and side to side. His hands spread and roam to relish each garment, each moment, until you're top half is naked.

He stares, fierce blue irises muted by the dim light on his bedside table, 'beautiful' on his lips every second you spend with your finger yanking the knot of his tie and sliding off the bond. When you lean to pop his shirt buttons, your breasts hang in his face.

Steve stops you by your wrists, peaking up at you through his long lashes as he takes a nipple in his mouth. He keeps thinking it--beautiful--while his tongue sweeps flat across pebbling flesh. Each subsequent swirl has you melting again, pressing more of you to his face, dragging nails up his chest, sighing long and deep. When he switches to the other side, your fingers bury in his hair. He takes his time to worship you, tracing his own fingertips around the hem of your slip and garters.

He doesn't get impatient, if anything Steve feels greedy for wanting more, for praying this lasts forever, for needing all you're willing to give.

His teeth graze your skin in wanton lust, and you flinch in surprise, knocking you off-balance.

You fall to your knees on the mattress, straddling Steve's slender body beneath your hot core.

"Sorry," you mutter, wriggling to stand, forcing Steve to wrap his arms around you and halt your retreat. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"You can sit on me morning, noon, and night," he rasps. "I won't complain. I'll thank you, beautiful."

He groans pathetically when you relax, the grind of your ass making his slacks pinch tighter and tighter. Steve lets his head fall back on the sheets, eyes fluttering shut. The army might not want him, the world outside may forget he ever existed, but you see. He could get addicted to this feeling. He might get lonely without it.

Steve isn't strong enough to keep hold of you, but your weight never leaves, his erection still slotted between your cheeks. His mouth drops wide when your hips roll. Steve whines when you rise up enough to resume unbuttoning him. His lungs and heart go into overdrive, but even so, Steve doesn't want you doing all the work.

He flips you--using the sum total of his strength--and shuffles backward to stand, ripping the tails of his shirt from beneath his belt and shucking off his trousers. That part he could have been more patient for, but Steve smirks and brushes away the hair falling in his eyes, chest heaving from exertion.

He's pleased to see you watching him, ogling his body without judgment. You look like you want to eat him alive, and he is perfectly fine with that.

His palm lands on your knee to sneak higher beneath your slip, nimble fingers popping the clasps along your stockings and hooking through the band of your underwear. You lifting for him is all the permission he needs. Steve leaves your slip, garter belt, and stockings in place, and in a cheeky twist, he lets your underwear hang off one of your ankles, kissing your inner thigh, pushing your knees wider for him to fit.

He throbs in his boxers at the sight of your sex.

Nerves roil in his belly at the idea he is solely responsible for your pleasure. As he glances up to you, propped up on your elbows with a fearful and expectant gaze, he sees a poster promising honor and glory, a service to be proud of, and for the first time, he has doubts.

You see it in his eyes.

"Steve?"

He wants to participate and show that he's worthy of you.

This isn't about him though, and Steve Rogers is nothing if not dedicated anyone other than himself.

"Right here." He snaps back to reality, laying his hand to your thatch of hair and gently teasing his thumb along your folds. "I'm right here, beautiful."

It's an honor to touch you. He's proud of the moan elicited because he strokes over your clit rhythmically. The glory of watching you writhe is all his.

Steve's breath stays rapid as yours picks up. You're fisting the sheets, slick pooling beneath the pad of his thumb, helping him pick up speed. He dips into you, tests the breach while pushing his boxers down, and crawls over the edge of the bed. Like magnets, you guide each other higher till the pillows cradle you.

You're a broken record, repeating a desperate loop.

"Steve," you whimper.

"Won't ever lie to you." He captures your lips again. "Want you so badly. I'll want you all the time."

Steve doesn't understand why you won't talk to him, so he slows, eyes questioning and brow furrowed. You have to see. The light is right there.

Bottom lip trapped, you still say nothing, but your arms raise to his smooth face and plead in the silence.

He wants the same thing. He wants to feel. Not just the sting of rejection. Not just the slippery, rough stones through his shoes. Not just the empty ache inside. He wants to feel like someone cares whether he lives or dies.

You care even when you don't want to, but Steve can earn you, your care, your smile and your tears. He'll get up and come home to you every time. He needs you to come home to.

Otherwise, this is a lonely, empty apartment. Otherwise, he is a lonely, empty man.

Your hands bring him close, lips pausing just before contact while Steve sinks two fingers into you.

You gasp. His fingers curl. His thumb goes back to work. You kiss him with what little breath you can hold between muted cries until Steve notices your roving hands tug at his waist.

He wants the same thing.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve drapes your thighs over his, his slick fingers spreading you. He's mesmerized watching his cock disappear inch by inch, and the caress of your walls shuts down all other brain function. All he can do is slide against you, bent into your soft body, your breasts padding his jerky thrusts, the base of him perfectly laving the hood of your clit in the growing mess.

You're wet, and he's driven wild by the need to make you come. He tries to sit up again, to play with you properly, but he's stopped by the weight of your legs crossed behind his ass, the strength of your thighs anchoring him in place.

Steve takes huge, deep breaths through his nose because he won't last concentrating on how your body bounces and ripples, plush beneath his boney form.

You get wetter, looser in a welcoming way that spurs him to drive himself home faster. He sucks in air, though it's futile once his heavy balls start to seize.

Suddenly, you shout, stretching to push yourself completely flush with his pelvis, and he has to pull out, keeping aligned with the cut of you as aftershocks make you mindlessly hump him. Steve's cum shoots all over his belly and your chest, some drops dampening what clothes he didn't discard, stains of joy replacing stains of sadness.

His chest might explode. He's gasping, taxed beyond his naughtiest dreams, head lolling toward the ceiling with his throat high.

He feels your legs fall away, and Steve hopes for an instant that you embrace him even though he might suffocate in the process.

The envelopment never comes. The world is fuzzy and too warm beyond him.

He hears the sink in his bathroom turn on just as he lands palms-down on sweaty sheets. He tries every trick he knows to calm down. The water still runs after all the time it takes for him to recover and stand. The closer he gets to the doorway, the clearer the sound really is.

Sobbing.

"Beautiful? What's wrong? Did I--"

The faucet squeaks off, and you barrel out, nearly running him over, your arms covering your chest and your disheveled hair hiding your face.

"What are you doing? Are you cold?" Steve tries.

"I'm disgusting," you hiss in a mad dash for the pile of clothes on the floor.

He trips over his feet to stop you, corralling you as best he can, but you're quick. You certainly have fight in you. Steve only want to show you you do not have to fight him.

"Come back to bed," he commands hopefully, grabbing your wrist as you scoop up your wrinkled dress. "I should clean up, but please, please, come back to bed."

There is something broken and fearful in the way you finally meet his eye. He's torn apart, shredded down to nothing in a single look. That's not how a feral animal sees the world; that's how an animal, abused and betrayed, locks the world out.

Your protection is what you really took off for him. Your thick armor is what Steve got past.

"I didn't lie." He lets go of you and steps back as calm as his rasping breaths can manage. "I want you. I want you to stay." He wonders whether he ought to cover himself, too, because perhaps total vulnerability makes you more nervous.

So he presents himself as an opportunity, not an obstacle.

Steve finds his boxers a foot away and says one more time, "I hope you stay."

Unmoving, your eyes follow his walk to the bathroom, and in the split second he's looking down to turn the tap, you're gone.

Disappointment floods his system, but like all the other stamped failures in his record, Steve goes through the motions of caring for a body that thwarts his desire to live at every turn. In fact, it tries to die so often, he's always surprised to find himself here, staring at this mirror again, wondering why he gets back up.

He's also surprised to find you here, in the bed with the sheet pulled up to your chin, nodding to the side table where you've placed a cup of water.

The tiniest of genuine smiles curves your lips.

Steve's home is neither lonely nor empty anymore. He could cry.

A/N: this got so incredibly out of hand... I'm so sorry. But also, thank you for reading!

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

skinny dipping // theodore nott x fem reader

playlist: skinny dipping - sabrina carpenter

"itd be so nice right? if we could take it all off and just exist and skinny dip in water under the bridge"

summary: y/n and theo have known eachother their whole lives but when sorted into different houses and fears of unrequited feelings take over , they lose their bond- but not really.

no real skinny dipping just the song LMAO its metaphorical , ravenclaw reader , use of y/n , fluff , childhood friends wtih obvious feelings

masterlist

it was just any other weekend on the hogsmeade trip when you heard the barista of the small cafe you sat in call out his name.

"theo!" she said , placing down a black coffee and moving on to serve more people , but you left your eyes burning holes into the cup.

until his hand went to grab it , giving a quiet and dull thanks before moving over towards the tables , where you sat - not noticing you yet.

you quickly moved your eyes away and pretended to be busy when his body turned in your direction , your acting cut off by your name being called in a voice you could hardly recognise.

"y/n?" he said as you looked up to see him stood infront of your table.

you took your time to study his face , he looked so different it was terrifying , he wasnt the same eleven year old boy you were attached to. but you werent so suprised by how he looked , you always watched him from afar.

"hey.." you let out softly , smiling at him anxiously.

it seemed weird to be anxious around your best friend , except you werent really best friends anymore , just two stanger with memories. memories you can never forget.

"we go to the same school but ive not seen you in ages!" he said excited by your appearance.

"really cause i see you everyday" you chuckled as he laughed too , sitting in the chair in front of you.

"yeah well you know i have bad eyesight," he shrugged with a bright grin.

"how could i forget , having to read everything at a distance to you as kids was a daily occurance" you both laughed as you forget all of your past worries.

"no seriously , its really good to see you , i dont know why we stopped talking anyways!" theo smiled.

you sat in silence for a second , you knew exactly why. the second you gained feeling for theodore at the end of first year you immediatly ghosted him for the next 5 years- and here you are now , sitting opposite the boy you never really got over.

"yeah...well how are you theodore?" you gave him your best smile.

"merlin dont call me that , its theo or dory , remember the name you came up with when we were 5!" his eyes sparkled in the nostalgia.

"i still have no idea where i got that nickname from," you both laughed.

"anyways , im okay. i was having a bit of a shitty day but its better now ," he replied.

"oh really , what happened?"

"nothing just boring studying for exams and my friends were all busy, but i guess it was fate that i came in here," he grinned at you as you felt your heart melt. this was exactly why you stopped talking to him , he could make you go crazy and not even know.

"yeah , so you could run into your shy ravenclaw friend you havent talked to in 5 years," you laughed.

"5 years 1 month and 12 days," he said as your laughing ceased, "i counted the days , i....i really missed you."

your whole demanor softened as you watched him stare down at your coffees unable to hold eye contact , "theodore i wouldve talked to you sooner if you said you wanted to talk .i know i kinda iced you out but im always here."

"i know bella , i just guess something changed that day , you...changed," he said softly.

"yeah well you did too theo , not talking was best for us , we needed to grow and be our own people," you reached out to hold his hand , not realising your seperation had effected him.

"i kinda lied when i said i hadnt seen you , i...well i find you every day, to make sure youre okay," he admitted with a maroon blush across his cheeks, "i guess i hoped you looked out for me too."

"of course i did, i still do. just because we dont talk doesnt mean you arent important to me theo."

he stared into your eyes , seeing his sadness begin to fade and be replaced with a fond adoration as you gazed back in the same haze. looking at him in this way didnt help with your unrequited-

"i love you," he whispered never once breaking eye contact.

your jaw dropped in suprise , "t-theo do you mean..."

"i love you and i always have , the day you stopped talking to me i think a part of me died or something. do you not realise how my friends seem to bully everyone but you? how im at all of your quidditch pratices and games? do you not wonder why no guys approach you? they all fucking pity my unrequited pining," theodore dropped his head and let go of your hand , frustration building up.

"theo," you gained his attention as he hesitantly brought his eyes back up to meet yours , "i love you too, more than words could describe. i guess i just thought youd never like me that way so i left you alone. i couldnt deal with my own feeling and i let it out on you im sorry-"

"dont say sorry bella," he said softly as he held the side of your face , tracing his thumb across your cheek softly, "water under the bridge?"

you smiled at him , holding the hand that rested on your blushed cheek , "water under the bridge."

stream skinny dipping by sabrina carpenter

[iamnotdeadyet]

1 , 2 , 3 , 4

I wanna be your whore!!

5 , 6 , 7 , 8

Call me slut , it feels great!!

Idk, these men probably:

HONORABLE MENTIONS ALSO GO TO:

YUJI ITADORI, NOBARA, Sukuna. HINATA SHOYO, TERUSHIMA, OIKAWA TOORU, KURO TETSURO, Atsumu Miya, BOKUTO. DAZAI. + UR FAVS!!

°•°•°•°•°•°°•°•°•°

iamnotdeadyet owns this

[catscidr]

i. note — i have so many thoughts about akademiya era dottore. most of them are silly and fun and cute i promise but some of them are..... Nothing like that. help me i need to Ruin Him. ong when i get my hands on him……… ii. includes — akademiya!dottore (zandik), gn reader iii. cw — i'm literally just rambling so have fun. he's kindof a brat, reader is implied to have more experience. making out, dry humping, outercourse. smut so mdni. no penetration

akademiya!zandik whose social circle is practically nonexistent; if he’s not tinkering with machine parts he found in some abandoned ruin then he’s nose deep into an old book, trying to absorb knowledge directly through the pages. so, of course it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t know how to act normal around people

akademiya!zandik who would be so pent up and so so so sooooo sensitive! he wouldn’t even get himself off ever, choosing to soothe his curiosity about khaenrian machines over his own carnal, lustful needs. even something as simple as a hug gets his blood rushing straight down (much to his frustration!! he's supposed to be a scholar, not some hormonal beast..........)

it would be so easy to rile him up.. be a little too touchy and “oblivious” to how your “platonic” affection gets to him and BAM now he can’t focus on what he’s doing because his heartbeat is just throbbing in his crotch. he’ll read the same line five times before he realizes that nothing is getting through his head (and instead something else is getting in his other head…….)

akademiya!zandik who would most definitely be a whiner. when you finally get him to pay attention to you he’s all mad n whatever, weakly scolding you for even daring to interrupt his studies. but as he swivels his chair around to face you, he sees you standing over him, looking down at his cute scowl, n he feels his cock jump at the sight. you looked almost angelic, the overhead lighting creating a makeshift halo around your head…

zandik who interrupts his own rambling just to look at you. or, uh, to gawk at you. while you peer down at the….. effect you have on him

you step forward and raise your leg to place your knee between his thighs on his chair, and bend down to get closer to his face. his breath hitches and he swallows thickly all while holding your gaze— at this point he might as well have hearts in his eyes. but he’s still scowling n his brows are all furrowed…. wonder when and how he’ll finally lose that tension in his face. hmmmm……..

even just a kiss on the cheek would fluster him, because of course it would! but what about a kiss on the lips? what about a messy french kiss, filled with tongue and teeth clashing clumsily as you absolutely devour him while all he can do is moan into your mouth and shut his eyes to prevent them from rolling back into his skull?

poor baby would be struggling to breathe, fingers tangling themselves into your uniform in a poor attempt to let you know he wants to tap out. you get what he’s trying to do, of course, but why not push him to his limits? tease him a little? his muffled moans feel like music to your ears and you want to hear the entire symphony

but when you finally pull away, a lewd string of saliva connecting your tongues, poor zandik can’t help the moan that leaves his bruised lips. he pulls you in again, chest heaving up and down to catch his breath, n tries to go for another kiss. you let him pull you in but you don’t return the kiss, instead choosing to keep your lips shut tightly as he whines and huffs out elaborate curses to try to make you indulge him

and indulge him you will when he learns how to beg for what he wants. to your surprise he learns fairly quickly— even if he’s a little bad at it. but it’s charming!! “just fucking kiss me again goddamnit”, “i wanna kiss you again. let me kiss you”, and your favourite, “p… please?”

it's right then that you make it your life’s mission, your purpose to make him stutter like that every single day.

and it’s almost cathartic when you touch him, even if your clothes are still in the way. still balancing yourself on the chair (and also pinning him to it in turn, hehe) you bump your knee against his erection, a breathy moan blessing your ears from zandik himself. his grip on your top is so tight you think he might even rip it, god knows the last time he trimmed his nails

zandik who would grind himself on your knee without even realizing what he’s doing, all the while you coo in his ears about what a good job he’s doing, what a good boy he is.

zandik who would yearn for more, who would weakly cuss you out when you refuse to let him fuck you.

zandik who, even with his enormous ego, would still follow you around like a lost puppy, begging you to teach him everything you know

[mushyroom-stories]

Minors DNI!

✧᱖𓇼₊NAVIGATION₊𓇼᱖✧

✧ #YandereOcs — My oc's! Or they're individual tags is:

⠀⠀★#Alcazar posts ✰ ★#Sellion posts ✰ ★more coming soon...

✧ #MonsterOc's or #MonsterRequests — Where I'll be posting my monster oc's or your monster requests!:

⠀⠀★nothing here yet...

✧ #chubby/skinnyreaderposts — this is where I'll be posting my chubby/skinny reader posts! Or they're individual tags:

⠀⠀★#chubbyreaderposting ✰ ★#skinnyreaderposting ✰ ★more coming soon...

✧ #Mydoodles or #sillyOc'sdoodles — Where I'll be posting my doodles/funny drawings of my ocs! Or they're individual tags:

⠀⠀★#Alcazarsillydoodles✰ ★#Sellionsillydoodles ✰

★#Alcazardoodles ✰ ★#Selliondoodles

[svgvru]

okay but imagine subby dazai who loves to be called Princess …🙏🙏🙏

admin ( posted for the first time in a while ) but like, ur so right nonnie omg. he'd be so cute! imagine him being his brat like self, pulling a couple of pranks, pushing buttons he knows he's not supposed to push, the usual. he'd play fight you, knowing damn well he can't win. he's a bit too frail, too thin and small compared to you. there's no way he'd win, but he tries regardless, whimpering when you pin him to the wall.

his right side his pressed firmly to the wall, one leg is keeping him afoot while the other is in your hold. his left side his folded due to your arms caging his leg to his head between your arms. he's completely trapped and under your control, his arms and legs of no use, just like he wanted of course. imagine slowly pushing into him, sighing at the way his walls feel. "you just have to be irritating, hm?" you grit your teeth, buck up into his hole, smiling at the way his dick slumps downwards due to gravity. "i thought you wanted to be my princess? well—then again, princesses tend to be bratty," you whisper, pressing sloppy kisses to his neck, "guess the slipper fits."

dazai whines at the nickname, his cheeks are reddend with blush as he takes your cock like a champ. his hazel eyes catch the way your cock bulges beneath his belly button, and he almost cums from the sight. "come on, princess. be as bratty as you need to," you coo in his ear, "'m right here."

a chuckle leaves your lips when dazai practically yells your name, muttering "mhm"s and "yesyesyes," over and over again. he's a cutie!

[tomriddlehyperfixataion]

Tom Riddle x reader - The bet.

Modernish? Au? one of those -son of Voldemort Tom's that has Mattheo as a brother n stuffs like that-none of thats important to the fic i just wanted to put that up so them having phones makes sense, also they have charmed phones so they work within hogwarts. :p

starts off with texts messages --(two dashes) with italics for (y/n) and -(one dash) and bold for Tom.

=

It was a stupid bet, one that Tom was already regretting even thought it hadn't started yet. it all started with his girlfriend (y/n) being cheeky while she was supposed to be in class and asking for a bloody abs picture from him while he was trying to study.

--hey tommy~?

Tom didn't know why he didn't put on the 'do not disturb' feature on when he was studying, because (y/n) always bugged him when he studied. he picked up his phone that had vibrated when he got a text and saw what his girlfriend texted him, he quickly sent a reply back and then set his phone back down.

-What is it this time (y/n)? -Did you get detention, again? -I'm not getting you out of it this time.

(y/n) replied quickly, which told Tom she wasnt paying attention at all while she was supposed to be in charms class.

--nooo that was one time tommy --okay maybe two times --okay three....five times --whatevs thats not what im texting u for --do you think you could to me a favors? ill return it?

Now Tom was, slightly(emphasis on slightly) intrigued, sighing as he picked his phone back up after reading the texts as they came in and messing (y/n) back.

-What is it (y/n)?

(y/n) replied almost instantly, which made Tom annoyed because merlin's beard she was in class!!

--ab pic? plssss???

-...Are you actually serious?? Did you just text me to ask me for an ab picture?

--yes. pls? ill send something back? pls? pls pls pls? all the other girls get ab pics from their boys? and you've got a baaaady bb~

-No.

--plsss?

-(y/n) I'm busy.

--does that mean 'im busy so ill send one later' orrrrr

-(y/n).

--Tommy.

Tom sighed, setting his phone down, willing himself back to studying, but curiosity had him picking his phone back up and typing a response.

-Why do you even want an ab pic?

--cuz

-That's not an answer (y/n).

--plllllllls tommy? ill send you something back i stg

Tom's interest was once again piqued, his brow raising. she would...send something back?

-And I'm supposed to take your word for that?

-bet

Tom scrambled to catch his phone when another message was sent from his girlfriend, except it wasn't a text, it was a photo. Of her in nothing but his jumper, sitting in front of mirror, the jumper pulled up above her chest to show off her body that got him feeling feral, her face just barely obscured in the photo-but he could see her tantalizing smirk that always had him going nuts.

He quickly got a handle on his phone and texted (y/n) back with a clench in his jaw.

-CHRIST (y/n)!!! -You're in class!!!

--and you, aren't~! --enjoy bb~ now about that ab pic?

He was blushing for sure, his face hot and red and he felt his trousers get tight. He shuffled in his seat, running his hand through his hair. He thought about it for a hot moment before he groaned and stood up, going into his bathroom and turning the light on.

He texted (y/n) one last time before pulling his button-up off and snapping a picture of his upper body. He wasn't really built like Draco or his brother Mattheo was, he wasn't a quidditch player, but he did have defined muscles and (y/n) liked them, so that was fine.

-ffs fine. -photo sent.

-Happy?

--👀👀🥵😍💞🥰👌👌👌👌👌👌

Tom let out a soft snort, leaning against the wall of his bathroom, holding his shirt in his hand as he looked down at (y/n)'s message. Yep, she was happy. he looked back at the photo she had sent him and swallowed, the flush in his face returning as a spark went down his spine, looking at the way her chest was pushed out, her breasts soft and round and such a perfect size for him. her thighs looked bloody gorgeous as well, he wanted to sink his teeth into them again, seeing in the picture some of his previous marks on her skin.

"Fuck," Tom muttered, his head hitting the wall as he closed his eyes and tipped his head back, his hand falling to smack against his thigh. This girl was going to be the death of him.

he got another message and if he wasn't already flustered, he sure was now because he pulled his phone up so quick. yeah-(y/n) was going to be the death of him.

--thnk u bb~ i can just imagine ur face rn, all red n flustered~ --🥰😂

Tom huffed, rolling his eyes, throwing his shirt onto the sink counter and messaging his girlfriend back(honestly how he had even gotten one was a mystery to not just him, but to all his little 'friend' group.)

-You're a menace. -Your imagination does too many favors for you.

i mean, she was right-his face was all flushed and he definitely was flustered, plus he had a bloody hard on thanks to that hoodie picture; but did she need to know that? Nope.

--oh LOADS --like imagining what you would sound like whimpering for me --thats always a good daydream for me 😈🥵🤪

Tom flushed again, puffing his cheeks too. Whimper? Him? Never.

-I Don't whimper. Not for anyone. -Not even you.

Tom huffed through his nose, his cheeks flushing still as his own imagination began to wander off. but he was brought back to reality when he got another message from (y/n).

--wanna bet? 😈

Oh Fuck.

"Fuck," Tom muttered under his breath, ignoring the way his fingers twitched for a moment as he thought of a response. She was riling up intentionally, he knew that, she wanted to see what he would do-how he would respond to her challenge.

-Menace.

--scared Riddle?

-Don't do the fucking 'scared potter' thing on me.

--its working isnt it? i know how you tick bb~ ur just scared i'll make u whimper and i'll make you lose control~

-Shut the fuck up.

--oh swearing now are we? you are flustered

He was, his face was red now and his leg was bouncing, somehow even harder imagining (y/n) doing her absolute best to make him whimper.

--so --wanna bet?

Tom took a long deep breath, running his hand through his hand and then down his face. would he regret this? probably.

Fuck it.

-fine. you're on. what do you wanna bet?

he could feel the feral grin through the phone screen.

--i get five minutes to try and make you whimper, i can do whatever i need to do, if you dont whimper-moaning and other shit you usually do is fine im not cruel bb-in those five minutes you cannnnnn, idk, do whatever you want to me?

Now that was enticing.

-What do you get if you do make me whimper? Which wont happen of course.

--you gotta be REALLY vocal next time we do it. i wanna hear allll the sounds you can make, whimpers, moans, grunts, ANYTHING.

Tom flushed, really? All she wanted was for him to be a bit more...vocal during sex? weirdo.

-Weirdo.

--im UR weirdo.

Damn straight. Tom thought about it for a long moment and then groaned. Ffffine. fucking fine.

-Fine. Bet.

--BET!

Tom let out a long sigh, checking the time. it was still another half hour before (y/n) was done with classes for the day, but he suspected she was going to be heading straight to him as soon as she was done-when she was all excited like this-she wouldn't let go of her 'mission' until she got it done.

And this time-her mission was making him whimper. Well, he would make sure she wouldn't hear a single peep out of him this time.

He put his shirt back on and tucked it back into his pants, sighing when he saw he still had a hard on and simply ignored it, going back to his desk and going back to studying-he needed to get this done before (y/n) relentlessly distracted him later.

His timer went off exactly 30 minutes later and he sighed, pushing away from his desk, setting down his quill. Right on the dot-he got a text from (y/n) and he glanced at it with flushed ears.

--omw.

Yep. He knew it. He began mentally preparing himself for whatever sensual onslaught (y/n) had planned for him, crossing his leg over the other as stared at his almost finished essay, before he could think too much on it-the door to his room opened and in stepped in his girlfriend, looking positively giddy.

Oh boy, he was in trouble.

He stared at her as she locked the door behind her and walked right over to him, huffing a bit when she swung her leg over his lap and sat right down, her arms resting over his shoulder as she leaned in close, grinning like a cat that caught her prey.

"Ready to whimper for me baby?" (y/n) cooed and Tom rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms and resting his hand's on her thighs.

"You wont hear a thing," Tom muttered, keeping his voice monotone and his eyes cold, but (y/n) could see the warmth they had for her, and only her. (y/n) grinned and got right to work, cradling his jaw in both hands and pressing her lips to hiss in a passionate and hungry kiss, quickly heating things up as her tongue licked his bottom lip and then pushed into his mouth.

Tom's breath caught in his chest for a split second, his eyes snapping closed as his grip on her thighs tightened, holding back a groan that wanted to escape as (y/n) practically devoured his lips. 'fuck' he thought, this was going to be harder than he thought.

(y/n) kept kissing him in a way that made him breathless and her hips began to grind down against him-making him gasp a bit as he felt her brush against his bulge that had quickly grown the moment (y/n) had stepped into the room. "(y/n)," Tom hissed quietly, his lips, swollen and shiny with spit, parted as (y/n) pulled away and went down to his jaw, nipping and kissing his skin.

She kept moving her hips down into his and he felt his resolve slowly start to crumble as her lips explored his neck, the sensation of her nibbling, biting down, and sucking all over his neck drove him nearly mad. He couldn't help but groan as he tilted his head back, exposing his neck for her.

(y/n) grinned against his neck, licking up the side and trying to find his sweet spot, anything to make him break. "Gonna whimper for me yet?" she asked sweetly, whispering into his ear and kissing the spot behind it.

"Not a chance." Tom said, every word a struggle to get out, his eyes still closed as (y/n) chuckled and went back to his neck, grazing her teeth and tongue against every spot she could-searching for that one spot that would make him break.

"Guess I'll hav'ta try harder then," she whispered, latching onto the slope of his neck where it met his shoulder as one of her hands went between them and Tom let out a choked groan, his face rising with heat as he heard and felt her undoing his belt and pulling his shirt out of his trousers.

"Don't you dare," Tom warned, but if only so he didn't lose this bet. He knew if (y/n) started touching him, his resistance would quickly fall. She was too good at this. (y/n) smirked against his neck and shimmied his trousers and boxers down-Tom's breath caught and his back arched a bit as (y/n)'s soft fingers wrapped around his aching cock, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

His hips jolted up and then back as her hand began to move, up and down the shaft of his cock, the feeling of her hand driving him mad as the sound of it made it harder to focus on not making those sounds (y/n) so desperately wanted to hear.

"(y/n)," he hissed out, his jaw dropping open as he panted, his breath shuddering with each stroke of his cock and graze of her teeth on his neck. He jolted again when she found the sweet spot on his neck and heat grew in his core as her teeth and tongue lavished that spot with attention while her hand stroked him with increasing intensity, making it harder and harder for him to keep his resolve.

(y/n) shuffled just a bit closer on his lap, his cock pressed against her clothed belly and adding more friction as she moved her hips with her hand, his pre-cum smearing against her skin and clothes.

Fuck.

Tom felt his control falter further as he felt (y/n)'s mouth and her hand work together over his neck and cock. His resolve was broken and he was lost in sensation. A single sound came forth before he could stop it, a hoarse whimper leaving his lips.

(y/n) grinned against his skin, kissing his sweet spot before she pulled back just a bit-her hand continuing to go as she rut her stomach against his cock-feeling him dripping helplessly against her hand and clothes, soaking her shirt in his fluids.

"aww baby, you whimpered," (y/n) cooed-and just then-the five minute timer (y/n) had sneakily set up went off-he had just missed the mark-if he had just lasted another few seconds, he would've won. but he had lost-(y/n) made him whimper.

"Sh-shut-" he let out another hoarse whimper, his breath catching as (y/n) pressed his cock against her belly. "Wh-whatever just-fuck-don't-mmfh- don't tell-tell, shit, tell anyone." Tom commanded, his vision blurry when he looked at (y/n), who was grinning like a bloody basilisk.

"Oh don't worry darling, this is for me and me alone." (y/n)purred, kissing him deeply again, her chest pressed against his as her hand practically fucked his cock, giving him just the right grip as more embarrassing sounds pushed forth from his throat, whimpering into (y/n)'s mouth as she kissed him.

He felt the heat in his core start to spread, his breath and heart going rapid as his head started to fog over with unrelenting pleasure. "shit-(y/n)-FUCK-don't stop-don't stop-don't stop-" Tom babbled as his eyes snapped shut, his head going back as well as (y/n) made out with his jaw and neck, leaving more and more marks on his pale skin as her hand kept going, and going, and going, faster and faster, squeezing a bit whenever she got to the tip-pushing more pre-cum from him until-

Tom's muscles tensed, He gripped the plush of (y/n)'s thighs, his teeth clenching as he felt a tingling throughout his body. His eyes remained shut, although he could still see the world around him somehow.

Then, an intense feeling of warmth started at his core and spread out throughout his entire body. His muscles trembled and shook as he felt pleasure like he hadn't felt before.

A deep moan escaped his lips.

Cum soaked (y/n)'s hand and shirt, some arching over and landing on Tom's belly and thighs while (y/n) began to slowly calm down, her eyes locked onto Tom's bright red face as he let out those little sounds she had been so patiently waiting to hear from him.

"Ahhn, hahh-fuckin hell-" Tom groaned, shuddering as his orgasm washed over him. He whimpered a bit when (y/n)'s hand slightly pushed him into 'too much' territory and he shakily grabbed her wrist that was slick with his cum. "Fuck." he sighed, his body slumping in his desk chair as (y/n) sat triumphantly on his lap, giggling away while he caught his breath.

When his vision finally cleared and he caught his breath, he saw his all too proud of herself girlfriend grinning at him, cum soaking her shirt and her hand covered in it as well, his softened cock just inches away from her hand.

"I hate you," Tom grumbled, his eyes fluttering closed when (y/n) laughed and pecked his lips.

"No you don't~ also i knew you'd sound adorable whimpering, wanna do it for me again?"

...

"Yeah,"

-end-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Off the Page 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: skinny!Steve

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You take a page out of Maria’s book and sleep on the train. The night at the hotel wasn’t long enough. By the time you ate, you were too tired to enjoy the fancy tub and your alarm woke you well before you were ready. As your stop comes, you’re still groggy and barely ready for your evening meet and greet. 

Isn’t this the dream? Running yourself ragged as a bestselling author? Seeing all the fans who love the words that you wrote? Who see themselves in the characters you created? So much a dream that you feel as if you’re falling asleep again. 

Wake up! You splash water over your face in the bookstore bathroom. It’s not glamourous. You have the small space to refresh before you face the masses. You hoped for a smaller crowd given the time of day and the lesser known location. How wrong you are; you can hear the buzz of fans through the walls. 

“Hey,” Maria enters without knocking. She’s like that. You and your agent have gotten rather cozy in those last weeks. A bit too much at times. “Almost ready?” 

“Yeah, sorry, I... is this blouse okay?” You ask as you touch the satin, patterned with violets, “I don’t even know why I bought this?” 

“It looks fine,” she assures, “you’re not a writer if you’re not at least a little eccentric, right?” 

“Oh, and what about book agents?” You challenge, “are they all so stylish?’ 

“Of course. We’re the face that sells the tour. All you have to do is smile and sacrifice your hand to carpal tunnel syndrome,” she teases, “just you wait until the interview. That's the heavy lifting.” 

“Interview?” You check yourself one last time in the mirror. 

“Didn’t I mention? The local station wants a sit down before we’re off tomorrow,” she explains, “I said yes. It’s a decent check and good business. Any publicity is good publicity. Publisher signed off on it too so... can’t back out.” 

“Oh, and you were going to tell me when?” 

“Right now,” she shrugs, “come on, your adoring fans are waiting for their elf queen.” 

“Oof, don’t,” you cringe, “you make it sound so lame.” 

“If it was lame, you wouldn’t be here,” she asserts. 

“Suppose you’re right,” you pack your things up into your bag and shove it in the corner. “Alright, I’m ready.” 

You follow her into the hall and through to the main area of the bookstore. It’s been closed early for the event, a meet and greet exclusive to those who claimed the limited one hundred tickets for sale. Each ticket includes the cost of a free signed edition and bookmark. Funny to think you’d once been on the other side of one of these things. The eager beaver reader aspiring to be the star author. 

As you come into sigh of the audience, they cheer. You’re still not used to that either. You wave and smile out at them. The moderator, an employee of the bookshop chain, calls for their attention over the microphone and introduces you. There’s another softer round of applause. 

You take your seat on the stool and let out a breath. You start with the reading. You try not to do the same chapter, instead cycling through your favourites. Some you even know by rote now. 

Then comes the Q and A session. You know all the answers. You find it’s always the same questions. Besides, you created this world, these characters, if there isn’t anything written, then you get to decide. 

A group a giggly women finish asking their questions about the ‘rumoured’ sequel to which you give your PR friendly deflection. After them, you wait for the next person to appear. There’s some scuffling at the microphone as they lower it. You wait patiently and smile at the slender blond man. He’s vaguely familiar. 

“Hi, um, my question is, whether Emeris is truly the promised knight or if he was just in the right place at the right time?” 

You nod as you listen, your thoughts whirring. It’s not an entirely out-there question. It isn’t what he’s asking that gives you pause. You swear you’ve seen him before. 

“Well, we can’t know for sure. I like to think of the promised knight as not a specific person fated from birth but rather a possibility for all. The promised knight is the one who can step up in that time of need and do what it is needed,” you explain. “I hope that makes sense.” 

The man doesn’t speak right away, himself stalling before he can respond, “yes, I guess it does. Thank you.” 

He lingers at the microphone for a moment as he watches you. He clutches a worn copy to his chest tightly. That’s familiar too. 

Strange. You're sure there’s lots of people who double dip. You have to admit you did it once yourself. Sometimes you just need that thrill.  

The blond man steps back and lets the next person ahead of him but he doesn’t go far. He stays close to the queue of people and you feel him staring you down. Everyone is watching you but his gaze just feels so much more intense. You do your best to focus on the person at the microphone. 

Several others ask their questions or just give their praise. The man remains. You can’t shake the sense of him. He’s like a shadow. You don’t know why you’re so aware of him. 

Finally, you finish up and it’s time to announce the special prize. It’s a raffle set up by ticket number. The package isn’t anything special; a collector’s edition, a mug, and some pens that look like quills. The moderator brings up a box filled with slips and you reach inside. You read out the number and the crowd mutters. 

“Me,” a deep voice rings out, a hand popping up from lower down. The blond man steps forward and waves his ticket, “it’s mine.” 

Strange coincidence. You keep your smile plastered on. You don’t need another Maria lecture about your tired moping. You’re handed the prize basket and you carry it down to meet the man. 

“Congratulations,” you say as he meets you at the lip of the low platform. 

“Thank you,” he beams up brightly, “it’s nice to see you again.” 

You try not to show your surprise, “yeah, uh... you too.” You don’t know what else to say. You don’t remember exactly where you saw him and definitely not a name; you hear too many of those to keep track. 

“Really?” He breathes. 

“Er, enjoy your prize. Thank you so much for coming.” 

“Of course. Always. Anytime,” he avows shakily. “’To you, my queen, I bid my blood and breath.’” 

You hesitate. That’s from the book. Emeris proclaims it to the elvish protagonist on her quest to reclaim her stolen homeland. It’s flattering yet slightly unsettling to have it recited to you. 

“Have a good night,” you say gently and turn to walk back across the platform. You’re tired, you need to get out of here.