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juanarc-thethird · 11 months

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I'm Going to Be a What?! Part 2

Do you know what it means… Part 1 --------------

Jaune is sunbathing while having an iced tea.

Jaune: This is life~

*Ting*

Neon (Text): Come to my room.

Jaune: Right now?

*Ting*

Neon (Text): YES, RIGHT NOW

Jaune: *Looks around* How de fuck?... Well, let's see what she wants.

After a while, Jaune arrives at Neon's room.

Jaune: Neon, I'm here. What up?

Neon: *Smiles* Do you know if your sister could lend you Adrian's newborn clothes?

She says with her hands behind her back.

Jaune: Is that why you called me?

Neon: Just answer the question.

Jaune: Well... I think so. Why do you ask?

Neon: Cause you're going to be a daddy~

Hearing that, Jaune explodes with laughter.

Jaune: Ahahaha! Yeah right. No seriously, why am I here?

Neon: I'm not joking.

Jaune: *Smiling* Stop playing, just tell me the truth.

Neon: *Serious* I am

Jaune: But we never had....

*Bam!*

Just then Harriet comes into the room, kicking the door open.

Harriet: *Angry* Jaune!

Neon: Oh, she looks mad.

Jaune: *Scared* Y-Yes?!

Harriet: I'm going to kick your ass!

Jaune: Why?! What did I do?!

Harriet: What did you do? This was what you did!

Harriet: You got me pregnant, asshole!

Jaune: WHAT?! HOW?!

Harriet: You know damn well how, you jerk!

Elm: *Comes in* What's going on here?

Jaune: *Hides behind her* Elm help me! Harriet wants to kick my ass!

Harriet: Stay out Elm. He deserves this for knocking me up.

Elm: Wait, you too?

Jaune: *Moves away* "You too?" Are you saying that you are...

Elm: Yes, I'm pregnant. All thanks to you, honey~

Neon: *Excited* Oh my god! Congratulations!

Elm: *Smiles* Thank you.

Jaune: *Worry* Three pregnant women? How did this happen?

Elm: Well, it was to be expected after several… "sessions"

Jaune: But I have never-!

Robyn: *Interrupts him* Jaune, we need to talk. *Says in a serious tone*

They all turn to see her, they realized that she and her friend Fiona entered the room without them noticing.

Harriet: *Ready to fight* What do you two want?!

Jaune: Relax, I just came to talk to Jaune about something important.

Elm: And that is?…

Robyn: Jaune...

Jaune: Y-Yes?

Robyn: I hope you are ready to take responsibility. These two babies will need their father.

Jaune: But I haven't- Wait, how do you know you're having twins?

Robyn: I never said I'd have twins. *Looks at Fiona*

Jaune: *He follows her gaze*

Fiona: *Shy* Surprise.

Jaune: *About to faint* Oh God.

Neon: *Supports him* Wow, easy there.

Jaune: I don't understand, how can this happen?

Robyn: Well, to be honest, it was hard not to resist you after you…

She stops talking, blushing at the memory of what happened that night.

Fiona: *Touching her cheeks while she is blushing* You were such an animal~ *giggles*

Jaune: Hold on, what happen?

Sienna: You know very well what happened.

The White Fang leader interrupts as she enters the room through the window.

Neon: Sienna Khan?! What are you doing here?!

Sienna: Nothing important, I just came to pick up...

Sienna: ...my child's father.

Jaune: Wait a minute, this is the first time I've seen you!

Sienna: *Gasp* How can you say that? After having that magical night together.

Jaune: What a magical night?! I do not remember anything about that!

Sienna: I see I'll have to refresh my memory. *She begins to unbutton her pants*

Jaune: What are you doing?! Stop!

*BOMB!*

An explosion appears on the ceiling, blowing a hole in it. From there appears Raven, the leader of the Branwen tribe. She looks angry, you can see how her maiden powers show in her eyes.

Raven: Arc!

Jaune: Oh fuck!

Jaune was about to escape but was stopped by the second in command, Vernal.

Vernal: Where do you think you're going handsome?

Jaune: Please let me go, I don't want to die!

Vernal: Die? Ahahaha! You're wrong, we come to take you to our tribe.

Jaune: Why?!

Raven: Because of this!

Raven: I told you not to come inside.

Jaune: I got my friend's mother pregnant?!

Raven: And Vernal too!

Vernal: Being honest, it was a little my fault. I shouldn't have trapped you with my legs. I don't mind doing it again if you want~

Jaune: Eh?!

*Knock Knock*

Willow: Sorry to bother you. But this is important, Jaune...

Jaune: *Quietly* Please don't say it. Please don't say it. Please don't say it.

Willow: Um... I left my husband like you told me.

Jaune: Oh... *Happy* Good for you.

Willow: Thank you. Now we can live together with our baby.

At that moment Jaune stands up as quickly as possible and runs towards the window, ready to jump to his freedom. He could already feel it, the pure air of freedom. The sweet aroma of irresponsibility. Oh what a good life. Unfortunately he was stop by the telekinetic power of a beloved professor.

Glynda: And where do you think you're going?

Jaune: *Surprise* Professor Goodwitch! What are you doing here?!

Glynda: I came to talk to you in private, but I see that this is no longer necessary. Jaune...

Glynda: I am also pregnant.

Jaune: No!

Glynda: And I already told your mom.

Jaune; NO!!! This is impossible! I have never had sex with any of you! And I can prove it!

Harriet: *upset* And how do you plan to prove your innocence?

Jaune: With this!

At that moment he takes out the relic of knowledge.

Jaune: With a simple question, I could prove my innocence. Jinn!

Jaune mentions the special name, and a beautiful, big, blue woman emerges from the relic.

Jinn: What is your question?

Jaune: Jinn, have I got a woman pregnant? (Hehehe, I will finally prove my innocence)

Jinn: Yes you have impregnated a woman.

Jaune: What?

Harriet: Ha! *She yells, happy that he was wrong*

Jinn: Eleven women in total to be exact.

Jaune: Eleven?! But there are only ten of them.

Jinn: Yes, but with me...

Jinn: ...we are eleven

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

Jaune: *Wakes up* AAAAAH!

He looks around and realizes that he is in his room, all alone.

Jaune: Thank god it was just a dream. *Goes back to sleep*

Meanwhile in another room.

Ruby: So he fainted with you girls after getting the news?

Neon: Yeah, we left him in his room to rest a bit. Maybe by the time his mom arrives he won't faint anymore.

Yang: What time is she going to arrive?

Glynda: She will arrive in three hours.

Weiss: We have time to prepare a welcome party. Who wants to help me?

Several girls raising their hands.

Weiss: Let's go then.

Weiss with her group leaves the room.

Cinder: I still don't understand how he doesn't remember what happened.

Salem: I already told you, using your semblance during the "Act" can cause a side effect. In Jaune's case, memory loss.

Elm: Maybe we should film it next time?

Neo: "I love that idea😍. Let's do it!😈"

Blake: *Excited* I'll bring my camera!

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questing-wulfstan · 2 years

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Listen, I can't blame y'all when His Excellence Neil Gaiman hisself compared it to Dream walking out on his date with Hob to hit it off with Shaxberd upon learning about Eleanor and Robyn, but I feel like fixating on this interpretation only of the scene is a disservice to Morpheus' overall characterisation over the season.

Have you noticed how Hob calls "his friend" over to his table and that doesn't phase Morpheus at all then Dream doesn't even ask him whether he still wants to live before putting an end to their meeting ? It's unexpected from someone otherwise so strict and set on protocols ー even when he storms out in 1889, he already had Hob's answer to that question. Yet he leaves 1589 Hob without having formally asked the one question that justifies their centennial meetings.

That is because Dream knows, oh he knows what Hob's Heaven is like. He's had a wife and a son of his own once, and he knew what eternity by their side would be like, once. And he knows Hob has everything but Death on his mind then. He also knows ー or so he thinks ー what Hob's answer will be the next century. For Hob Gadling alone was granted immortality, not Eleanor, nor Robyn. And Morpheus knows what outliving one's son is like.

Morpheus' work in this tavern of the White Horse is done, but he's also taken back to the most traumatic event of his existence, one he won't recover from in two millennia and he can't look Hob in the eyes anymore, he needs a distraction, something, anything but having to confront his revenant grief. And there's that playwright loudly willing to strike a bargain with higher entities for the ability to create timeless dreams for humanity and there's his distraction, there's an escape ...

Comes 1689, Morpheus is certain of the outcome of this meeting. Sure, it will have taken the bugger three time the hundred years Dream had predicted Death, but no matter because it is true : nobody can bear an endless existence.

Then Morpheus learns about not only the expected death of Hob's son, but that it happened much earlier than it should have, devoid of a fulfilling lifetime for Robyn and of psychological preparation for Hob. Scythed in the prime of life, much like Orpheus. And within a close time frame to his wife's departure, too. Hob is holding up a mirror to Morpheus' own misery and the King of Dreams finds himself on the verge of tears. He is no longer smug as he offers Hob what he thinks of as an eventual relief.

Yet ... Hob doesn't take it. Somehow, somewhere, Hob Gadling finds it in himself to resist the tragedy of his life, to chose tomorrow, to decide that whatever the future holds, it is worth being there to see it.

And that is really when something kindles within Morpheus. No longer mere curiosity but a devouring fascination for Hob Gadling, his hopefulness and his resilience. He latches onto that man who shares his misery yet seem to have overcome it, or anyhow accommodated himself to it.

And when they meet again in 1789, and fortune has smiled upon Hob Gadling once again, Morpheus is much more open, much more attentive, much more interested. Who knows if he might not have given Hob his name even, hadn't lady Johanna Constantine interrupted him ?

By all means, Morpheus doesn't process their blooming bond. He's the anthropomorphic incarnation of the human or really, the living unconscious : there are numerous things passing through his mind at all time that he does not process. To him, he's merely monitoring the puzzling glitch that is Robert Gadling's will to live still, and waiting for him to eventually, inevitably renounce his immortality.

So when another century has passed and Hob asserts that their meetings are unnecessary for he won't ever renounce being alive but proposes his friendship, Morpheus is left reeling, faced with how much he has in common with this 'mortal' and his envy for Hob's resilience and capacity to forge ahead.

Naturally he takes flight and makes for an escape, lest he finds himself ensnared by his own grief ...

#sandman #netflix the sandman #dreamling #morpheus #dream of the endless #hob gadling #hob x morpheus #hob x dream #this is such a mess does it even makes sense ??#anywho I've spent way too long writing this out #meta #which admittedly slid towards poetic flourish but meta nonetheless #sandman meta #userlyde

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year

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Rubber Duck

Pairings: Sebastian x Reader

Wordcount: 1195

Sebastian had said he’d come round for a movie tonight but it was now past 7pm and he was yet to materialize. You had rang but it had gone straight to voicemail – he was pretty bad at charging the thing. Maybe he was asleep? You thought about ringing the house phone, but you knew that would involve Robyn going downstairs and Sebastian felt self-conscious about that, so you settled on walking over to his house.

It was summer, so the evening was light enough for you to take the back route to his house in under ten minutes, rather than going through town and definitely getting waylaid with everyone else you'd no doubt bump into on a summer's eve. You also thought in case he was now rushing over to yours, you’d at least collide.

As you approached the house, you saw your boyfriend leaning up against a tree out of eyesight of any windows – deep in thought as he puffed away at a cigarette. It was the one thing you didn’t like, but he was working on cutting down at least.

“Hey, good-lookin’!” You called when you got close enough, startling the black-haired man. He blushed – god, you loved when he got all flustered – and he bent down and retrieved the soup can from the trunk that he used to stash used cigarette butts. Although he would joke about it, really the last thing he wanted to do was burn down the place.

“Y/N, hey…” he smiled shyly, pulling you forward for a kiss. He’d also switched to menthol cigarettes after you’d confessed you hated having to wait for him to have a mint or brush his teeth to kiss him after he’d partook. “Where are you off to?”

“Did you forget?” You frowned.

He stared blankly at you for a moment before cursing. “I’m so sorry, is that tonight? I completely forgot. Ugh, I’m such an idiot…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you interrupted, taking hold of his hand. “It’s fine, the evening’s still young. What’s got you so worked up anyway? I tried calling but your phone was off too.”

“I can’t get this piece of the module working. I’ve spent all day on it and it’s still not doing what I want it to. I’m meant to have it in tomorrow morning. I’m really sorry, I’m gonna have to cancel on you and spend the rest of the night trying to work it out. I only came out here to see if a smoke break would reset my mind.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m a terrible boyfriend.”

“Only I’m the judge of that, and I disagree. Please, how many times have I cancelled our plans for a farm emergency? Remember when I made you spend the whole evening finding the chickens? A terrible boyfriend would never."

You were meant to head into Zuzu City for the evening on his motorcycle, but when he’d arrived to pick you up he’d found you in a complete panic. Something had spooked the chickens and a few had failed to return home. You couldn’t bear for them to spend a night out in the open and the result was you and him trawling Cindersap Forest in the pitch black tracking them down, eventually collapsing in bed at 3am after safely returning them to the coop.

“How could I refuse when you were sobbing about being a terrible chicken mama?” He jabbed you in the side, teasingly.

“Chicken Protective Services would’ve been right on me!” You chuckled at your own joke. “Can I help in any way? I’m no coder, of course, but…”

“Thanks, but it’s okay. I’d ask you to come in but trust me, it’ll be boring and I’ll just be muttering angrily to myself about why the stupid thing doesn’t work.”

An idea suddenly popped into your head. Back in the dark days of working in the Joja Corporation offices, you’d overheard a couple of the developers chatting at the water cooler as they filled up their cups in the 2.5 minute hydration “break” you were allowed. One had been grumbling to another about some of his code not working. “Gotta rubber duck it, man!”

“Oh, please,” the other sighed. “No-one really does that.”

“They do, and it works.” He stressed in reply, before they headed back towards their computers.

Upon return to your desk, you’d quickly pulled up a web search for “rubber duck coding” and read an article about the so-called rubber duck theory, where programmers would read aloud code, or the process of which, to a non-judgmental rubber duck and, more often than not, the error would reveal itself.

“Well, what if I’m your rubber duck?”

He raised an eyebrow at that.

“I mean, I heard about this thing years ago – rubber duck theory?”

“Oh…” He smiled. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, I can be your rubber duck! I know about as much about coding as a rubber duck does, but I could smile back…? At least give it a go,” you pleaded, grabbing hold of his hand and squeezing. “I hate to see you so frustrated.”

“It’s worth a shot, I guess… I’ve tried everything else. Only if you're sure - you’re gonna be so bored, Y/N.”

“I don’t know, you listen to me ramble about farm stuff all the time. Plus, I’m never bored when there’s such a cutie to look at.” Sebastian’s face flushed pink once again.

“See, that’s gotta stop. Rubber ducks do not flirt.”

“Maybe I’m a themed rubber duck, they have those, you know?”

He grabbed hold of your hand and started pulling you up towards his house, “No, I’m pretty sure this theory only works with a standard rubber duck.”

“Ugh, fine. I promise to be a normal, stoic rubber duck.” You held up your free hand in an oath as your boyfriend unlocked the front door and led you down towards his bedroom.

It took a couple of hours but you stayed true to you word and only smiled, with the occasional nod as Sebastian took you through all the code, explaining what he was trying to achieve in complete layman terms - briefly explaining arguments, algorithms, arrays, functions, variables – until he paused mid-sentence and scrolled back a couple of lines.

“Ugh, it’s right there!” He typed furiously, explaining what had gone wrong. You really hoped he wouldn’t ask you to reiterate the problem because it had gone right over your head at the speed he’d explained it… After a moment, he enthusiastically hit enter, running the module and beamed.

“There – finally! Ugh, that’s a relief. Thanks, sweetheart.” He got up and sat next to you on the bed and leant in for a kiss which you happily accepted, before pulling back after a moment, a curious look upon your face.

“What?” He frowned.

“Just thinking about that if rubber ducks don’t flirt, how can they kiss?” You pondered.

Sebastian rolled his eyes before patting you on the head. “Good rubber duck.”

“No… I’ve changed my mind. I think I’m ready to go back to my human life.” And you pinned him down on the bed in a passionate kiss.

#stardew valley #sebastian stardew x reader #sebastian x reader #stardew imagines #stardew valley fanfic #fluff writing #ghostdogwrites #stardew sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian #sdv sebastian x reader

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

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Closet Monster!Dream + Widower Hob & Robyn

Robyn is a friendly kid, but he's been a bit down what with the move and the new house and the new school. And Dad doesn't say it, but Robyn can tell he's a little sad too.

So Robyn doesn't say anything initially, when the house creaks and his closet door seems to open by itself at night. He's a big boy, he can fight monsters himself! But he also tries talking to it first, Daddy says you don't always have to fight, sometimes just talking to someone de..de...defuses a situation.

Then one night when he's crying from a rough day, a clawed hand offers him a tissue. Mr. Closet Monster, Mr. Dream, is really nice! He listens when Robyn has a rough day (and doesn’t want to tell daddy and make him sad); Mr. Dream also has a son, Orpheus, who he says he'll bring by.

When Daddy asks to meet Robyn's new friends, he's not sure that's the best idea - Mr. Dream is a little scary. But daddy probably isn't going to let it go.

When Robyn introduces them, it seems like daddy and Mr. Dream already know each other.

This is so cute! I wonder how Hob and Dream know each other? Maybe Dream used to be Hob’s closet monster when he was a little boy! I bet they promised to be best friends forever, but then of course Hob grew up and moved away. Maybe Dream got trapped in the closet-world by magic and couldn't get out to see Hob and say goodbye. It's a whole thing really, and Dream and Hob are kind of just awkwardly staring at each other while Orpheus and Robyn wisely slip off to play somewhere else.

Hob starts nervously talking about his life while Dream listens with this slight smile on his (very tooth-filled) mouth. He tells Hob a bit about Orpheus, his pride and joy. They share a few stories about their sons. Their hands touch, just a little bit - well, Hob’s hand and Dream’s enormous claw. It's pretty cute tbh, the way they're acting and flirting like they used to when they were young.

But neither of them realise that the other is flirting back of course, because they're very silly. They both just feel lucky that the other is still willing to talk to them because they both feel like they abandoned each other. Hob is feeling hopeful that Dream will forgive him for going away; Dream is almost convinced that Hob isn't mad at him for disappearing. Maybe their friendship can rekindle?

It's obviously going to end up as more than a friendship - Hob can't keep his eyes off Dream’s pretty, toothy mouth. Even Robyn can see it. Maybe it's time to push his dad into the closet with Mr Dream and let them have a game of seven minutes in heaven? He and Orpheus can get plenty of extra playtime together if their daddies are getting busy 🤭

#the sandman #dreamling

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arialerendeair · 4 months

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Many gremlin wishes on this most auspicious of days, the day of your birf!! As a gift of words, I offer...

OKAY SO I KINDA COMBINED BOTH, SO WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A BIT OF BOTH.

~!~!~!~!~!~

It started because Hob needed something to care about after Eleanor and Robyn. The first plant, gently handed to him, with care instructions, and a small basket of fertilizer, a pot for it to grow into, and fresh soil, had been what he needed and he hadn't even known it until he'd gotten the plant home. It flourished, and Hob spent the better part of a week crying when it flowered for the first time.

He was back immediately after he'd managed to pull himself together, the enigmatic man behind the plant counter giving him a quick, secret smile as he asked for another, so his plant wouldn't get lonely.

Six months later, his flat had become a veritable jungle and he had no regrets. He had something to live for, something small, and it was enough, for now. The Orchids required daily care, the spices were flourishing (and he'd started cooking again to have a reason to use the spices), and his small shelf of succulents next to his computer made sure that he didn't fall too deeply into despair.

The benefit to so many plants, of course, was that he had an excuse to return to the garden center to see HIM. Dream, the man who had sold him his first plant, and then all the subsequent ones, who always seemed to know what his plants needed before he did, who always gave him the smallest and tiniest smiles, and nods of acknowledgment, was someone who understood Hob didn't know entirely how, but he did understand.

Which was why, when he made his way to the garden center, he blinked in surprise at seeing it was closed. His face fell, but he headed into the larger building to get what he needed. Dream was allowed to have days off, of course, but Hob had gotten used to being able to see him whenever he made his way over. Which made the sight of Dream standing behind a check out counter, looking pale, and thin, and drawn, even more surprising.

"Dream?"

"Hob," Dream said with a nod. "Apologies for..." he swayed, blinking hard. "For not greeting you outside as is custom. The shop required assistance."

There was no one else nearby, and the store was probably empty, so Hob stepped closer, and watched Dream's eyes that were glassy and cloudy, meet his. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. "Dream? Are you all right?"

Dream managed to summon a scowl, but only barely. "Of course. I do not need your-" his knees buckled and he grabbed onto the edge of the counter, barely managing to stay upright.

Hob was around the counter, with an arm around Dream's waist, taking his insubstantial weight in a split second. He steadied Dream and bit his lip when Dream went even more pale. "Dream? What do you need?"

Dream trembled, fighting down a growl. "Outside. Sun. Need sunlight."

Hob looked out the front door, but they'd draw attention to themselves if he went to stand out there. Lifting Dream into his arms, Hob strode through the store and toward the Garden Center. The other man felt like nothing and was almost limp in his arms. He shouldered the door open and strode into the bright sunlight, biting down on his lip.

He found a chair to sit on, keeping Dream carefully cradled, even as he tilted his chin up and to the sunlight. Hob smiled faintly. "That better?"

Dream nodded without speaking, keeping as much of his skin as possible exposed to it, and after a few minutes, he no longer felt ready to shake apart. "Yes, thank you."

"Vitamin D deficiency?" Hob asked. Dream hadn't moved from his lap, and Hob wasn't about to force him to move.

Dream hummed. "Without continuous exposure to the sun and other plants around me, I would die. Working in the store is akin to torture if I cannot take breaks. Today was the third day in the store." He shuddered and let his mouth fall open, breathing in the scents around him, deep and slow.

Hob blinked, opening his mouth before he shut it. Dream not being entirely human, or human at all, explained a great many things. Such as how Dream knew about his plants, and about what he needed for them all of the time. "And you work at a garden center?"

"No one suspects anything if I spend my days outside among plants," Dream answered, shifting to rest his cheek against Hob's shoulder, his skin warming steadily. "I can care for them, and ensure they are placed in homes that will care for them properly."

"So I should be flattered that you've steadily turned my flat into a jungle with your recommendations?" Hob asked, even as Dream squirmed and then settled properly into his lap again. He adjusted his arms and then wrapped them around the not-a-human in his lap once more.

Dream frowned. "You have been surprisingly non-reactive to the information that I am not human. Should I be concerned?"

Hob shrugged. "I don't get out a lot these days, and you helped me find something worth living for. Unless you're actively hurting people, I don't care what you are. I just want you to be all right."

Dream trembled with his entire body. "The shop must stay open. It allows my home to stay safe."

Hob looked up at the building, at Dream's reminder that he would die if he was stuck inside. "How about you stay out here and tend to your plants, and I'll run the register. I already know where most everything is inside, anyway, and the orchids will be all right if I water them after closing."

Dream's eyes widened and he tipped his head up to look at the human holding him. "You would... work inside?"

Hob leaned in and kissed Dream's temple, where at his hairline, he could see vines at the base of his hair. "I will. You stay out here, and if I need help, I'll come ask."

Dream nodded once. "I would.. be very grateful."

"Happy to help," Hob said, helping Dream rise to his feet. He made his way back into the store and did a lap around the store, helping the few people who had been lingering, checking them out and getting them on their way. He tidied the shelves, and straightened them, and put away the stock that had arrived, and waved to Dream when he could see him watching. It felt good to be working, to be doing something, and when he finished, he was a bit at a loss, and made his way outside.

"Dream?"

Hob laughed in delight as Dream's head bobbed up from behind a plant shelf, and held out the shop keys. "Everything is locked." He handed Dream the keys, and watched him hold them close. His heart turned over in his chest as Dream stared at him. His lips were pink once more and he relaxed at seeing Dream much more normal.

Dream cradled the keys close and looked down at them. "You have done me a remarkable kindness. I don't know how to repay you."

Hob lifted his eyes to the door at the back of the garden center that led to the greenhouses and swallowed. The orchids would be all right. "Will you... show me your home?"

Dream reached out to take Hob's hand and gave it a slow squeeze. "I would be honored." He turned and led the way back into the greenhouses. By the gasp the human gave the second they stepped through the doorway, he knew they were not nearly as small as they appeared.

Hob followed Dream through a veritable forest, and was led to a grassy clearing, and when he was pulled down to lay under the moonlight of two moons, he didn't hesitate to stretch out beside Dream, admiring his ethereal beauty. "I'll work the shop as often as you need. So you can stay safe."

"You would?" Dream whispered.

"I would," Hob agreed, reaching out to tuck some of Dream's hair behind his ear. "Often as you need, promise."

Dream reached out to cup Hob's chin, tilting it up. "It is customary for you to kiss, now?"

Hob managed a soft laugh and turned to kiss Dream's palm. "If you would like-" the words were cut off as Dream surged forward, sealing their lips together, pressing him back into the soft and comforting grass. He tightened his arms around Dream and pulled him close, letting the kiss go on and on. Whatever Dream was, Hob didn't really care, he could help, he was maybe a little bit needed, and he had missed being needed.

#Aria Posts #sleeponfutons #Dreamling #Eldritch Plant Creature Dream #Plant Dad Hob #Birthday Asks

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mrworldwideshoulders · 9 months

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i choose you || reader x knj

When your best friend abandons you at a wedding with a bunch of strangers and the guy she’s trying to set you up with is just not that into you, you decide to have some fun instead of sulking in the corner, which earns you the attention - and the affection - of a stranger named Kim Namjoon.

✓ Pairing: reader x Namjoon (very briefly feat. Jin) ✓ WC: 4.5k ✓ Rating: rated T / PG-13 ✓ Genre: mostly fluff, smidgen of angst, strangers to lovers-ish, love at first sight-ish ✓ Warnings: alcohol consumption, foul language, minho slander (he’s choi minho, he can handle it), seokjin is drunk, loud, and in love, bad descriptions of making out, dimple descriptions, reader is a hoe for namjoon’s forearms, namjoon is a big awkward cutie ✓ a/n: hehehe it's another wedding fic sorry lolololol. this is the prequel to where love finds us and the way you look tonight, if ya wanna check those out afterwards. i meant to have this out last month but oh well, here it is in july :) i like this one a lot because it's a lil bit goofy and i hope you enjoy it too! as always beta’d and bannered by teh amazing april (@onmypillow-onmytable)! thx! ly - robyn ✓ P.S. I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars (lol), they just inspire me.

part of the 24k magic collection (masterlist)

“Remind me again why I’m here?” you complain as your best friend, Ji-eun, pulls you by the arm into the reception hall. “When you asked me if I wanted to do something this weekend, crashing someone’s wedding reception was not what I had in mind.”

“It’s not crashing if you’re invited,” shrugs Ji-eun. “I was invited. And then I invited you. Ergo, you were invited.”

“That is absolutely not how weddings work. Who invited you, anyway? I don’t recognize anyone here.”

“The bride?” says Ji-eun, as if it should be obvious. “We’re co-workers, or something. She invited everyone from our department.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “I’m totally underdressed.” You eye all of the women around you dressed in semi-formal gowns and you elbow Ji-eun in the ribs. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a dress code?” The strapless cocktail dress you thought was such a good idea earlier suddenly seems like the worst decision you ever made, and you didn’t even bring a sweater to save face either, all because the only instruction Ji-eun could bother to give you when she texted this morning was “wear a dress” and “something with lots of cleavage.” Ji-eun, you’ve decided, is bound and determined to drag you into trouble at every opportunity. It’s a wonder you’re both still alive – and not cellmates in jail – with all of the questionable situations she’s been pulling you into since middle school.

“You look hot,” she says. “Don’t even worry about it. You’ll blend right in.”

“Did you just say ‘hot’ and ‘blend in’ in the same sentence?”

“Ugh, you’re so self-conscious. You are hot. I think it’s time you embraced that.” She pouts at the look on your face. “Come on, y/n,” she wheedles. “Minho will be here, and I’ve been wanting to introduce you guys for ages. He’s such a great guy. Did I mention he’s hot? And dying to meet you? Please let me play matchmaker. Then later when you’re happily married to the love of your life, you can say it was all thanks to your best friend in the entire world who loves you enough to set you up with her hot guy friends.”

“Yeah, well, the position of ‘best friend in the entire world’ might be opening up sometime soon if you keep setting me up with these duds.”

“You’re so mean!” she whines. “I told you the last one was just a misunderstanding.”

“He ditched and left me with the check, Eun. It was not a misunderstanding. It was a calculated move.” The guy even had the audacity to call you later that night to see if you wanted to go out again, claiming “bathroom trouble” as the reason for sticking you with the check. As if you were dumb or desperate enough to fall for that – especially since he’d conveniently been hit by “bathroom trouble” once he was mostly done eating, not to mention your waitress had been kind enough to let you know that she’d seen him slipping out through a side door – apparently completely fine.

“Stop complaining. Come on. Sparks are going to fly between you two, I just know it.” She resumes tugging on your arm and you reluctantly allow her to pull you along as she weaves through the crowd, finally stopping you in front of a man who must be the fabled Minho. “Oppa!” coos Ji-eun. “This is y/n. You remember, don’t you?” She shoots him a knowing look.

“Ah, Ji-eun!” he greets her. “I remember. The one you were telling me about, right?” Minho glances at you. “Eun, she’s gorgeous. Where have you been keeping her?” He takes your hand and plants a kiss on it. “Choi Minho.”

“Y/n,” you reply, somewhat taken aback at his outward display of affection. “I’ve heard a lot about you, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Have fun, you two,” teases Ji-eun in a sing-song voice. “I’m off to snag myself a drink or a handsome groomsman, whichever one comes first.”

“She’s really something else, isn’t she?” you say, looking to break the awkward silence that falls once Ji-eun is gone. “So how do you two know each other? I don’t think she said.”

“University,” says Minho. “We were in the same major. Same year, too, but she insists on calling me oppa.” He shakes his head and chuckles. Minho says it like it’s something that bothers him, but it clearly doesn’t, or else he would have corrected her before now.

“Oh, I guess you were a business major, too.” You nod. “Explains why we never ran into each other. I barely saw her the whole time, and we were roommates.”

“We went to the same university?” Minho seems surprised. “I never would have guessed. What major were you in?” Something about the incredulous look on his face rubs you the wrong way.

“Uh, yeah. We did.” You narrow your eyes. “I was a graphic design major.”

“Graphic design. Wow.” Minho inhales sharply through his teeth. “How’s that going for you? I hear it’s pretty competitive. You know, if you’re ever looking to change fields I’m sure I could find something for you at my company. A favor for a friend of a friend, yeah?

“Oh, um,” you say, “I…have a job. And I kind of like it, so I’m not really planning on moving any time soon.”

“Well, you let me know if you ever change your mind.” He winks and touches your bare arm. “Any friend of Eun’s is a friend of mine. And I’m sure we could take much better care of you than wherever you’re working now.” Minho’s eyes wander from your face down to your chest and then somewhere over your shoulder, where something – or someone – else seems to catch his eye.

“Uh…thanks,” you say, unsure how else to respond, feeling a little uncomfortable. You wish you had a drink to settle your nerves and a sweater to cover your chest. Why did Ji-eun have to leave? you curse internally. She knows I’m not good at this. “So,” you say brightly, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction. “What does your company do?”

“We’re in transportation, mostly,” he says, his eyes still somewhere behind you, “but we’ve got our fingers in a lot of pies.”

A few more minutes of conversation with him pass, and it’s already obvious that you and Minho don’t exactly have a lot in common – nor does it seem that you’re really his type, because he keeps glancing at a pretty bridesmaid in a lavender dress somewhere behind you. You’re beginning to wonder what exactly Ji-eun expected the two of you to talk about, because the two of you are polar opposites, and not in the endearing, meet cute, opposites attract sort of way, in the way that even if you did decide to date you’d probably end up butting heads over anything and everything. You steal a covert glance the next time Minho’s eyes wander away from your face and over your shoulder. The bridesmaid is chatting animatedly with what looks like another bridesmaid, cutting glances every so often in your direction – or Minho’s direction, more like. You sigh internally and try to hide your frown. Of course. Minho looks like he could be an idol or an actor; it only makes sense that he wouldn’t be interested in you. He probably only even agreed to meet you as a favor to Ji-eun. Well, if he’s not even going to pretend he’s interested – then why should you? “Minho?” you say sweetly. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

“Don’t miss me too much while you’re gone.” He grins.

“I’ll, uh, do my best.” You find your way over to the bar and watch as Minho approaches the bridesmaid he was making eyes at, any thoughts of you surely already forgotten. You shake your head and sip your wine. He’s probably better suited for her than he is for you. You blow out a long breath and order a glass of white wine from the bartender. Why does it have to be like this? Every guy, every date, every time you even attempt to put yourself out there – it just never works. Sure, part of it is probably your fault for having unrealistic standards. And part of you doesn’t even really want a relationship, not after watching your parents tear each other to pieces every time they set foot in the same room together. It’s not like it’s always been your dream to fall in love and get married, either. The only thing you’ve ever wanted for yourself is to be happy. If that’s with a man in your life – then so be it. Everyone always says that you’ll know when the right one comes along, but you’re starting to think that has about as much likelihood of happening as you becoming president.

You throw back half of your wine in one gulp. Ah, should I just leave? you wonder to yourself, scanning the room for Ji-eun. There’s no point in me staying if Minho isn’t interested and nobody else is either. What else am I here for other than that? You debate slipping out the front door, flagging down a taxi, and going home, but eventually decide against it, feeling a twinge of guilt at the idea of abandoning Ji-eun at this wedding by herself – even if she did technically do the same thing to you. Really starting to question who’s putting the most effort into this friendship, you gripe internally.

You finish the rest of your wine and request another from the bartender. What am I doing? you think suddenly, the first glass of wine beginning to hit you as you start on the second. Am I really just standing here drowning my troubles at a wedding, of all places? This is so dumb. You scan the room. The dance floor is crowded, with people moving back and forth, dancing, reveling in the moment, the music pounding all around. Instead of lingering by the bar, feeling pitiful and alone…the realization dawns on you that you should be out there, having fun. Or, at the very least, keeping your mind occupied enough to forget the disappointment of yet another man having no interest in you.

“Dance like no one’s watching, right?” you say to yourself, downing the rest of your second glass of wine and hopefully, washing away the nerves that normally plague you, the fear of being perceived when it comes to doing anything in social situations. As the wine hits you, you begin to feel pleasantly warm and tipsy, and you move toward the crowd, the lights bouncing off the lacquered wood floor. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you close your eyes and feel yourself start to move with the beat of the music. You don’t even know the happy couple, but you silently thank them for hiring such a good DJ.

Minutes pass, though it feels much longer, with you tossing your hair, moving your hips and head back and forth to the beat of the music, forgetting about the fact that your best friend is a terrible matchmaker, and the fact that it feels like she’s genuinely trying to set you up for failure, making you question everything about yourself, forgetting about the fact that you couldn’t even hold a man’s attention for longer than ten minutes, even in a stupidly revealing cocktail dress that your friend made you wear under false pretenses. And in those moments, it’s just you, and the music, remembering that you are pretty, and one guy’s stupid opinion of you doesn’t matter. Love will come, or it won’t, and you’re determined to be happy with your life either way.

The strappy heels you’re wearing prove to be your downfall, and you eventually decide to extricate yourself from the throng of wedding guests, limping back over to the bar. Your cheeks are flushed, and you’re exhausted, but there’s a sense of exhilaration pumping through you, feeling somewhat revitalized by making yourself do something you wouldn’t normally do on your own. You steady yourself against the bar, standing on one foot while you rest the other, and request another glass of wine from the bartender.

“Looks like you were enjoying yourself out there.” A low voice materializes next to you. Your head swivels in the direction of the voice to find a man standing just feet away from you, holding a bottle of beer and watching you with interest. He’s much taller than you, but not intimidating, with an approachable air about him, and warm brown eyes that remind you of autumn. A dark blazer is slung over one shoulder, leaving him in a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the folded cuffs tugging at his muscular forearms. His friendly smile accentuates the dimple in his cheek.

“Oh!” you say, cheeks flushing. You put your other foot back on the ground in surprise. “Yeah. I guess. I don’t normally do that kind of thing, but my friend dragged me here because she wanted me to meet this guy, but they both disappeared, and then I was just standing here all alone feeling sorry for myself.” You lift one shoulder in a shrug. ”I don’t even really know anyone here, but I figured I might as well make the best of it and have some fun.”

“Looks like we’re in the same boat,” he says with a chuckle. ”I sort of got dragged here too.”

“Well, from one wedding crasher to another, let me introduce myself.” You hold out a hand jokingly for him to shake. “I’m y/n.”

“Y/n,” he repeats, taking your hand. “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Namjoon.”

"There, now we both know at least one other person." You smile, taking a sip from the glass of wine that the bartender has just set in front of you.

“So this guy your friend wanted you to meet,” he says. “You didn’t like him?”

"No?" You make a face. “I mean, he was all right, I guess, but I don't think we had very much in common. Besides, he was making googly eyes at some bridesmaid the whole time I was talking to him." A rueful sigh huffs through your lips. "I’ve got to stop listening to Ji-eun. She means well, but one thing she doesn’t have is a talent for matchmaking.”

“Sorry to hear that," says Namjoon. "About the guy.”

“It’s okay. At least we didn’t waste too much of each other's time.” You smile. “Anyway, why aren’t you out there? Isn’t everyone supposed to be dancing? It’s a party, after all.”

“Oh, no.” He chuckles. His laugh feels affable and warm, just like his smile. “I’m a terrible dancer. It's better that I don’t. I’d probably end up breaking something, or someone. I’m just here for the atmosphere.” He sets his bottle down on the bar top. “Besides, I was having more fun watching you.” His brown eyes twinkle.

Your heart flutters in your chest and you find yourself trying to hold back a laugh.

“Not buying it?” he says teasingly. You shake your head, still smiling. “Sorry. I’ve never been very good at this. Whatever this is.”

“I’ll give you a point for trying.”

“Ah, good. That means I didn’t fail completely, right?”

“Right. Something like that.” You laugh. “So who dragged you here? Are your friends equally as annoying as mine?”

"My friend, Seokjin, who's been bugging me to get out for weeks. He claims to know the groom or something. No, wait, it was the best man…or maybe it was the best man’s friend? I’m actually not sure.” He scans the crowded dance floor and points. “Him, right there, with the shoulders.” You follow his line of vision over to a tall, broad-shouldered man, flailing his arms and virtually towering over his dance partner, who, come to think of it, looks a lot like…Ji-eun? "He might actually be more dangerous on the dance floor than me.”

“Funny,” you say. “That's my best friend he's dancing with.”

“Really?” Namjoon looks at you, then back at them. “Wow. I guess it’s only right that our annoying best friends found their way to each other.”

“No offense to your friend, but I don’t think it’ll last very long. Ji-eun’s not known for committing long-term. She’s a walking contradiction. Convinced she’ll be the one to introduce me to my one and only, yet has no interest in finding one of her own.”

“As luck would have it, neither is Jin. They’re a perfect match.”

You raise your glass. “In that case, may the Seokjins and the Ji-euns of the world always find their way to each other.”

He clinks his bottle with your cup. “Hear, hear.”

Namjoon is easy to talk to, and he's especially interested in your job illustrating book covers for a publishing house. "It's nothing special." You wave your hands. “It’s a really small company. And I’ve only been doing it for about a year, so I’m not very good at it yet.”

"Are you kidding?” he says, awestruck. “I’ve never met anyone who does that. And you must be good, or you wouldn’t be doing it professionally.”

“Well, it pays the bills,” you say, dipping your head modestly, “and it gives me plenty of free time to work on my own art.”

“Really?“ Namjoon looks intrigued. “What medium do you prefer?”

“I’m a painter. Mostly. But I like to experiment with a little bit of everything.”

“Wow. She designs book covers. She paints. And now I’m wondering where you’ve been all my life.” A tinge of pink colors his cheeks. “Uh…I just meant…” He rubs at his neck self-consciously. “Anyway.”

He’s awfully cute when he’s flustered.

The conversation takes a slight turn, and you find yourself listening with interest as he tells you about his work as a grad student, his dissertation on the intersection of art and philosophy, his plans for the future after he finishes his doctorate. Tenure, professorhood, the papers he wants to write. The art he'd like to buy if he had the money. If it were anyone else, you know you'd be starting to zone out by now, but there's something about Namjoon's low, even voice that draws you in and keeps you paying attention. Like a documentary narrator, or a radio host.

"You're staring at me," he says, his tone light and teasing.

You were listening so intently that you didn't even realize what you were doing. "Was I?" You turn away slightly, hoping to hide the blooming patches of pink on your cheeks. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Namjoon's eyes crinkle into a smile. "It's all I can do to get the freshmen in my courses to look at anything other than their screens, so trust me, I don't mind it at all. I'm just glad you don't think I'm boring."

"Boring?" you say, surprised. "Are there people out there who think you're boring?"

"Oh, definitely. You'd be surprised. Jin, for one. He swears up and down that he doesn't think so, but a few minutes in and his eyes are already starting to glaze over. You, on the other hand…well, I've been monologuing for ages, but you've just been standing there with that mesmerized look on your face the whole time."

"Mesmerized?" You chuckle. "I don't know about that."

"No, it's true," he insists. "Admit it. I fascinate you."

"And?” you ask. “What about it?”

“What do you say we get out of here?” he says, barely blinking an eye. The corner of his mouth quirks. “This party’s almost over anyway. We can continue this conversation somewhere we can actually hear ourselves think.”

You hesitate. You barely know this guy. But he likes you – you can tell. He’s the first guy in a long time to express genuine interest in you or your job or your personal life in general. It doesn’t hurt that he’s easy to look at, either, with his striking brown eyes and easy, dimpled smile. There’s just something about the way he looks at you that makes your palms tingle and you heart feel like it’s about to explode. And what is it about rolled up sleeves and exposed forearms that just drives you absolutely insane? Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or the letdown from Ji-eun’s unsuccessful attempt to set you up with Minho – but you have to see where this goes. “Okay,” you say finally. “Where should we go?”

He’s about to speak when Seokjin and Ji-eun stumble up, arm in arm. “Namjoon-ah! My best friend!” Seokjin exclaims drunkenly. He throws his long arms over Namjoon’s shoulders from behind, pink-cheeked and grinning. “I think I’m in love.”

“Oh, really?” Namjoon eyes his friend with a dry expression. “Who is she, then?”

He looks at Ji-eun blankly, then back at Namjoon. "Ah, well, her name isn't important. What matters is…I'm in love." Seokjin pokes a long finger into Namjoon’s cheek. “And I’m going to marry her.”

“Oppa!” squeals Ji-eun, pulling him back toward her. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. I’ll bet.” Namjoon’s gaze cuts in your direction. “Sorry. Normally he’s better at holding his liquor than this,” he whispers. “I should really get him home before he gets any louder – and gets us uninvited from future events.”

“Same here,” you say apologetically. “If we can manage to split them apart again.” Seokjin and Ji-eun are once again furiously making out, hands in places you’re not even sure you’re supposed to be looking.

“They’ll have to come up for air sometime. I think we might have a chance then. You grab yours and I’ll grab mine?”

“Deal.” The second Ji-eun pulls away from Seokjin to take a breath, you take her firmly by the arm and pull her toward the door of the reception hall, ignoring her protesting about being separated from the love of her life, while Namjoon tugs Seokjin along behind you. There’s a line of people outside already waiting for taxis, given that you’re in the middle of the city, so you join the queue behind another couple, still trying to prevent Ji-eun and Seokjin from devouring each other whole on the sidewalk.

“Nicely done,” says Namjoon, the dimple in his cheek reappearing alongside his grin, while he maintains a firm grip on Seokjin's arm. “I take it you have experience with this?”

“Only every Saturday night since university.” You chuckle. “Between the two of us I’m definitely the responsible one.”

“Eonni!” whines Ji-eun. “Don’t tell him that! He’ll think you’re boring!”

You plant an elbow firmly into the side of her ribs, sending her into silence.

"That's okay." His smile doesn't waver. "I'm a little bit boring myself, so what's one boring person to another?"

Boring? you think. You're not boring at all. You’re passionate about what you love. You’re the first man to look at me that way: like I’m the most interesting person in the world to you, when really it’s the other way around. You’re sweet. You’re adorably awkward. You’re bad at flirting – but something about you draws me in anyway. And I know we’ve only just met…but I want to know everything about you. What makes you happy, what inspires you, what intrigues you…I want to spend hours listening to you tell me all about it.

The crowd waiting for cabs disperses until it's just you and Namjoon. "I guess this is it, then,” he says as a taxi finally pulls to a stop in front of you. “We should do this again sometime. Minus the drunk people, of course. Not that I don’t enjoy dragging a hundred and thirty pounds of dead weight around with me, but it does put a damper on things, doesn’t it?”

“Yah, you bastard! I’m not that heavy!” Seokjin bellows, as he's struggling to stay upright, his words still slurring together.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’d like that. Maybe we can actually finish that conversation we were having before we got interrupted.” You nudge Ji-eun, who seems determined to make herself as unwieldy as possible, not so gently into the cab, sending her tumbling into the backseat, and turn back to him. “By the way…I really appreciate it. You talking to me. It made me forget how totally out of place I was.”

“Ah, it was nothing.” He ducks his head sheepishly. “As a fellow wedding crasher, I’m happy to have helped. Thanks for putting up with me rambling all night.”

“Please.” You smile, waving your hand. “Nothing to put up with. I had a good time.”

“Well…good night, y/n.” Namjoon closes the car door after you. “Get home safe. Until next time?”

“Until next time.” You look up at him. “Good night, Namjoon.” You sit back in your seat, allowing the flutter of excitement that’s been slowly building in your stomach to take flight. This guy…he likes you. He really likes you. You’re going to see him again. And for the first time, in a long time, if not ever…you’re excited. Really excited. Your hand goes to your mouth, barely concealing the grin that’s forming on your lips.

As your taxi pulls away from the curb, a hand suddenly appears in the half-open window, causing it to jerk to a stop. Namjoon appears next to the car, shaking his hand ruefully and wincing. "Damn, that hurts. Guess that'll teach me, won't it?" He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours. "Sorry about that. You were just about to disappear when it dawned on me that I forgot to ask you for your number, and I knew I had to do something before I lost you."

“Oh! My number.” Your heart flutters again. “Yeah, you’re going to need that, aren’t you?”

Namjoon watches as you tap your number into his phone. “Good thing I remembered when I did. That could have been a disaster.”

“A disaster, huh?” you ask, handing his phone back to him.

“Catastrophic.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “How else would we have found out if we were meant to be if we didn’t go on an actual first date?” He gazes down at you with a teasing grin. “Anyway – I’ll call you?”

“Soon, I hope.” You smile. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long.” Namjoon’s eyes meet with yours momentarily before he turns away, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Well…good night, y/n. I mean it this time. Really.”

“Good night,” you say, stifling a giggle. “Get home safe.”

The taxi finally pulls away from the curb, and you can’t help looking out the window after him as he walks back toward Seokjin. He’s handsome, even from behind. Ji-eun flops against you, and you shift her to a more comfortable position against your shoulder. “I knew dragging you along was a good idea. Did I call it, or what?” she mumbles proudly. “You know, I saw the way you were looking at that guy just now.” She pokes teasingly at your arm, eyes half-closed. “Like you wanted to dive right in and take up residence in his dimples. And sparks like a fireworks show. It’s so obvious! You are smitten.” Ji-eun sing-songs the last part.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, pressing your lips together to hide your smile. Ji-eun might not have introduced you to the love of your life – but it’s the first time in a while that you’ve felt this way about anyone – and you suppose you do have to thank her for that.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #bts series #bts x reader #bts au #bts fluff #reader x namjoon #reader x rm #reader x kim namjoon #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #namjoon fluff #kim namjoon #mrworldwideshoulders #namjoon x reader

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itsclydebitches · 3 months

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The amount of times RWBY wants us to feel scared for the safety of characters while conveniently forgetting Aura exists is staggering. Neo attacks Ruby with the intent to kill but her Aura is still active. James almost shoots Marrow with the intent to kill but his Aura is still active. Watts hacks an Atlesian Knight to run towards Qrow, Robyn and the Ace Ops with the intent to explode but their Auras are still all active. Sure the attacks would hurt like hell but they're not gonna kill, why should I fear for their safety?

If we're being generous (I'm having a good night lol) I suppose we could read moments like James vs. Marrow as shocking not because it would be a one-shot death sentence, but because he's threatening - in general - to take Marrow down. Sort of the equivalent of an IRL person raising their fists. Is that an immediate threat to the person's life? No. Are you making it clear that you're willing to fight over this while also ambiguously leaving it open how far you're willing to take things? Yeah.

You're right though, too often RWBY relies on average action threats (a pistol, an explosion, etc.) to raise the stakes without taking into account that none of that should be very scary to our protagonists. Not until their aura breaks (and we have no sense of when that will happen, despite them all supposedly carrying Scrolls to tell them. Which I get because if RWBY introduced clear thresholds of when aura breaks they'd have to actually abide by that rule). I feel the same way about characters about to fall: Ruby hanging off the airship with Neo, Ruby hanging off the cliff while fighting Cordovin, Ruby and Oscar both going down in an airship. The very first technique we're shown is a landing strategy, so how is falling from a massive height - even while taking into account other factors like, say, snagging the farm boy who never went to Huntsmen school and might need to use you as a personal parachute - meant to be taken as a serious threat?

In this regard the void of Volume 8 is actually a GREAT idea. Suddenly your landing strategy doesn't mean a thing if you have nowhere to land. Suddenly a single hit can be a threat. Not because the hit itself would seriously hurt you, but because it might knock you off the edge. I actually love the concept of Yang falling at the start of that fight, RWBY just did such a horrific job of executing it that there's nothing left for me to enjoy. Why does Yang panic like that when, as established, a single hit from Neo is not going to kill Ruby, or even seriously hurt her? Why is she jumping in front of her sister at all when the entire POINT (supposedly) of her Volume 3+ arc was to learn fight smarter, rather than relying on emotional impulsivity? (I will seriously never be over how that moment is an exact repeat of Yang trying to save Blake and yet the show doesn't seem to realize that.) Why does only Blake have a reaction to Yang "dying"? Why didn't the whole team of talented fighters with various ranged weaponry/magic/speed make a serious attempt to catch her?

All of this isn't even taking into account how Yang, as someone who powers up via taking hits, should consistently be standing her ground like she did against the mech, knowing her aura will not only save her, but give her an advantage. She's the tank. If Yang had gotten in front of Ruby with a confident, calm expression that conveyed her understanding that Neo can't one-shot her aura like Adam once did, taking the hit both to spare Ruby's aura and power her semblance as a strategic decision (give her a smirk and a taunting line like, "Thanks for the boost" before knocking Neo back), then later falls some other way after her team tries and fails to save her... that would have been so much better imo.

Yang's lack of engagement with her semblance has been especially frustrating for me after her line about how Adam "cheats." If Yang thinks it sucks that she has to take a beating to gain an edge... show her actually taking a beating to gain an edge. You know, like the show once did. It would be so badass to watch Yang getting in the way of all the attacks against her team, toeing the line between safety and breaking her own aura, before finally EXPLODING with a massive attack she's been saving up for, making that sacrifice worth it.

(Also potentially devastating if she's taking those hits with turning the tide in mind... but then she falls before she can see her plan through.)

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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theharddeck · 1 year

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as if it doesn't turn you on, just to say it

basically I saw @hangmanapologist 's post (💙) and immediately opened a Google doc. the s t u n n i n g Rhett/Lewis edit is from Robyn as well!!

pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

summary: you convince Bob to dress up as your favorite show for a Halloween…and he looks way better than you could’ve prepared for

warnings: 18+ minors please DNI!! smut, swearing, explicit unprotected piv sex, explicit oral (m!receiving) sex, and mild sacrilege.

unofficial tag list (lmk if you want to be added or removed, i just tagged people who are equally feral for bob or who were nice to me once about my work): @wildbornsiren @peakyrogers @javihoney @fuckyeahhangman @thedroneranger @princessofglitterland @gigisimsonmars @thedroneranger @laracrofted @bioodforbiood @winterrebel04 @javihoney @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch

Bob’s voice was muted as he spoke through the bathroom door. You stood in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom, rubbing absently at your red lipstick, a matte liquid product that stuck to your lips with apparently industrial strength. You hoped the same could be said of the boob tape you were placing entirely too much trust in, for something that was $16, and from Target. You tilted your head at your reflection, pleased with the overall effect.

Rationally, you knew it was just a black jumpsuit—a halter neckline, a wide pant leg, a strategic opening over the breastbone—but with the red lipstick and fake cigarette, it felt like a suit of armor.

It was as if Phoebe Waller Bridge herself was your fairy godmother, and had appeared in a thought bubble in your subconscious to tell you that you looked smashing, or something equally British and charming.

And, since your boyfriend had been convinced to don a matching costume, you were ready to see his look for the night.

“What do you mean?” you called, fussing with the approximation of Fleabag’s haircut you’d achieved with an array of pins.

“It just looks like a priest’s robe,” Bob’s voice came through the door again, confusion and indecision in his tone. “I’m really not sure what the effect is supposed to be.”

You smiled to yourself. “Why don’t you let me tell you how effective it is?” you asked.

You heard the bathroom door creak open, and Bob’s head stuck out of it. His costume was hidden by the door, but his eyes met yours in the mirror, before running down over the jumpsuit.

“You look amazing,” he said softly, and you smiled as you turned to face him. His compliments always settled over you like sunshine, warming you from your skin inwards, his sweet conviction brokering no room for argument.

“Thank you,” you smoothed your hands over the front of your slacks. “Can I see yours?”

Bob’s nose wrinkled slightly, and he turned his head sideways, leaning against the door, using it like a shield.

“I just look like a priest,” he complained meekly, “while you look so hot.”

“A million fanfics would suggest that those are not mutually exclusive,” you cajoled. “Come on, let me see it.”

Bob sighed, opening the door, and while you wished your reaction was for the sake of dramatics, it was entirely lacking in pretense.

He looked so good.

You’d known Hot Priest would be a great costume for your boyfriend, since the Andrew Scott trifecta of broad shoulders, big hands, and a soft smile was practically custom-made for Bob. But you hadn’t been prepared for just how well it would suit him.

The high white collar was stretched across his throat, emphasizing the width of his neck, and leading down to his shoulders. The black robe was unassuming enough, but it wasn’t enough to hide the definition of Bob’s shoulders and chest. If anything, it highlighted them by contrast. You’d always been attracted to the dichotomies within Bob—his strength and his softness, his gentleness and his discipline—and the vestment was putting them on blast.

He looked like a good man who fucked, and you must've had quaker ancestors, because it was really, really working for you.

The only other exposed skin was his hands, which was a whole other blessing.

He had great hands.

His long fingers were fidgeting under your perusal, and you dragged your eyes back up his body as Bob waited for your verdict. His hair was a little longer than normal, and you noticed the ends of it curling up around that damn collar, and you were practically itching to run your fingers through it.

“Alright,” Bob grumbled, somehow uncertain as to how to interpret your reaction, “let’s have it.”

“Babe,” you shook your head. “I literally cannot even tell you how good you look.”

Bob’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, looking down at himself. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you assured him. “Like… like the female gaze personified; it’s actually ridiculous.”

He pushed his glasses up on his nose, shifting between his feet and pulling at the collar.

Just that simple motion, a long finger tucked under that white fabric, and you wanted to call Penny and tell her you were sorry, but you and Bob actually couldn’t come to the Hard Deck’s Halloween party tonight.

Instead, you crossed the room, determined to be PG, and wound your hands around his neck, smiling up at him. “Thank you for agreeing to this,” you said.

Bob’s hands came around your waist easily, his shoulders relaxing as he felt the press of your body against his.

“Of course,” he said automatically, and you knew he meant it. He was simple like that—if it would make you happy, he’d do it. You squeezed your arms a little tighter around him, and Bob immediately adjusted his grip, always willing to match you.

You shook your head, looking up at him fondly. “You’re too good to me,” you told him, honestly.

“You make it easy,” Bob said, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. Bob’s hand ran up and down your spine slowly, a soft touch allowed by the open back of the jumpsuit. You snuggled into him, grateful and enamored and a hundred other things much wholesome than your reaction to his costume. You stayed that way for a long moment, wrapped in each others’ arms and your own thoughts, quietly charging before you’d face the adventure of Halloween with the rest of the dagger squad.

+++++

“We are good friends,” you announced, as Bob locked the door to the apartment, some four hours later.

“Absolutely top drawer,” Bob agreed.

The two of you had braved a costume contest (Jake and Javy won), obligatory thematic drinks (neither you nor Bob loved the taste of gin, but you couldn’t do Fleabag and not sip G&Ts), and Rooster playing his entire repertoire of spooky Halloween songs on The Hard Deck’s piano (twice).

It had been fun, it had.

It had also been exhausting.

You kicked off your heels without finesse, and Bob sighed tiredly as he leaned over to undo the laces of his dress shoes. You smiled at the image of him, his large body bent over in the small hallway to arrange the shoe rack; he lifted a hand in your direction without looking up, and you slid your heels over to him with your toe.

He looked up at you, smiling briefly, and his thumb brushed over your ankle in acknowledgment as he arranged your shoes next to his.

You held out a hand to pull him up and he took it, straightening and stretching his back as he rose. His arm draped loosely over your shoulder as you walked down the hall, his fingers still playing with the hand you’d offered him.

“The costumes were a hit,” he mused. “I couldn’t believe how many people had seen that show.”

You nodded, knowing he could feel the motion from your head on his shoulder. “It won like forty Emmys, with good reason.”

“Alright, you have great taste,” Bob teased softly. “No need to rub it in.”

You laughed as the two of you tried to fit through the bedroom door at once, not quite small enough to make it through without some maneuvering. Once through, you rose up on your toes to press a kiss to Bob’s cheek.

“Thanks again,” you whispered. “For doing the costume thing.”

When you settled back on your heels, Bob followed you, his head ducking to capture your lips again.

It was one of your favorite things about Bob, that he kissed you just to kiss you, to say any number of things he meant, with simple affection. He broke the kiss softly, his forehead still against yours, and one of his hands tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

“You don’t have to thank me for doing something that makes you happy,” he said quietly, and your heart just melted. He was so special, so sweet without even trying.

“Love you,” you said simply, and Bob hummed, before kissing you again.

“Love you, too,” he said.

You stood there for a moment, smiling sappily at each other, before Bob laughed to himself. “Although, maybe next year, we go for a costume that I can wear more than once?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, looking at his costume appreciatively, “let the record show that I am all for you bringing this look out, unprompted, whenever you want.”

Bob chuckled. “I’ll bear that in mind. Come on, let’s get changed.”

He leaned in to kiss you again quickly, but your fingers tightened on the front of his robe when he pulled back, an idea streaking across your mind.

“Or…” you trailed off, not sure if you wanted to open the door, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you considered. Bob’s hand eased its way up the side of your neck, his thumb tracing across your lip until you released it.

“Or?” he prompted, quietly.

“Or you could keep it on,” you said in a rush.

Bob’s hand on your jaw stilled, and he pulled back slightly to look at your face. Whatever he saw had his eyes widening, his breath catching, and then his mouth curved into a small smile.

“Thought you were tired, honey,” he teased, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“I am,” you admitted, pausing. “But I know a good way to get me to sleep.”

Bob laughed against your skin, a fond sound, before bending down. His lips trailed warm kisses across your collarbone as his hands slipped behind you to undo the jumpsuit. You knew what he was doing, giving you time to decide if you wanted to get ready for bed or for sleep, since either would need you out of the jumpsuit, but your body responded to his touch without rationale. He hummed when you leaned into his touch and he pulled back to look at you.

“Incorrigible,” he said, and you smiled, unbothered.

“Is that a no?” you asked.

Bob’s fingers were still fiddling with the fastenings of the jumpsuit and you knew you could help him, but you liked how close he was, how his hands felt, how everything had felt since he opened the bathroom door hours ago, looking like this.

“It’s not a no,” he whispered. He got the final clasp and the garment fluttered down your body, pooling around your ankles.

Bob’s hands immediately smoothed over you, his touch warming your bared skin, and you shivered at the contrast. His long fingers ran up your sides, his broad palms settling over your breasts; you leaned into his touch as he lifted them, your eyes falling shut as you breathed his name.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Bob asked softly. “I know we watched the show together, but how much are you wanting this to draw from it—is this roleplay, just the idea, what–”

“Anything,” you whispered, your voice breathier than you expected. Bob’s hands tightened on you, at your eagerness, and when you looked up at him, you saw the desire in his expression.

“Okay,” Bob said, his voice soft, as he pressed another kiss to your lips, reassuring. “You just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

You nodded, appreciating him checking in, but knowing you didn’t need it. You’d always been able to be honest with Bob, about what you needed or wanted, and you knew this wouldn’t be any different.

He lifted his chin, his eyes running down to your mouth as he licked his lips, before saying in a low voice, “Kneel.”

You whimpered.

Actually whimpered, a sound that ripped out of you at the perfect contrast of your doting boyfriend with the steely command from the show, one that brokered no discussion. Bob’s eyes darkened at the sound, but he raised an eyebrow, and you complied, sinking to the floor of your bedroom. You saw his jaw clench at the immediacy of your response, but that was the only indicator that he was affected, every other component of his expression radiating control.

“Good girl,” he said, and your lashes fluttered at his low tone. Bob’s nails brushed across your forehead as his fingers ghosted over the top of your head, settling at the back of your scalp.

“Or maybe not,” he said, in that same, low tone, a hint of unfamiliar condescension creeping in, “you got on your knees awful quick there, honey.”

Your head tilted back at his touch, one of your hands coming up to balance yourself by resting on the front of his thigh. Through the black cloth you could feel his strong thighs, tensing under the brush of your fingers, and when you looked back up at him, he was watching you through half-closed eyes.

“So pretty,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Take it out.”

You reached for him eagerly, finding the buttons in the robe and undoing them to find the loose slacks underneath. Your hands were nearly trembling with excitement as you felt the hot length of him through his trousers, and Bob drew in a sharp breath when your fingers brushed over his erection. Bulge was such an unglamorous word, but it was only accurate as you ran your hand over the length of him. You couldn’t help but lean forward to press a kiss against the straining material of the trousers.

Bob groaned quietly, a faint sound that streaked ribbons of heat through you, and you returned to your initial prerogative. When you finally pulled him free of the vestment, you sat back on your thighs, admiring his thick length in your hand. Long and broad, veins tracing up the side of it, a drop of moisture pearled at the tip, and you were practically salivating as you leaned towards him again.

Your hand angled at the base of his cock and you licked your lips as you leaned towards him, but Bob’s hand on your hair tightened, pulling you back. He held you in place and you looked up at him to see him shaking his head.

“Ask me nice,” he said, his hand tightening in your hair. His jaw was slack but his eyes were sharp as he watched you, wanting it as bad as you did, knowing how begging would make you feel.

“Want to taste you,” you whined, a breath away from him. You wanted the weight of him on your tongue, your lips stretching around him, your name on his moan when you made him feel good. “Please, Bobby.”

He shook his head, readjusting his grip on your hair.

“Who?” he asked, his voice low.

“Fuck,” you clenched your thighs together, as his words rolled over you. “Father,” you tried, and Bob groaned, a long low sound.

“That’s right, baby,” he gritted, and his hips snapped forward.

Your mouth had been open, tongue eager, but he pushed past your lips so quickly that you barely registered the salty taste of him on your tongue before his thick cock was pressing at the back of your throat. Tears pricked at your eyelids, but you hollowed your cheeks as Bob pressed into your throat, your hands steadying yourself on his thighs again.

You moaned around him, feeling your panties growing damp at the weight of him. He was so big, and he was trying to stay still, but his cock twitched in your mouth, little pulses that had your thighs quivering.

Bob pulled back, all the way out of your mouth, and you gasped in a breath of air when his cock pulled free. With his hand in your hair holding you steady, he traced your lips with his cock. The swollen head rubbed against your lips, your saliva ran between your mouth and his cock, messy.

“Baby, this mouth,” Bob moaned. “You gonna let me fuck it?”

“Please,” you whispered, another pulse of arousal going through you when your polite boyfriend swore, opening your mouth wider as Bob dragged his cock against it again.

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Bob said, and he pushed back into you again.

You held your breath as he eased into you, stretching your jaw and pushing back into your throat. When he was seated, you heard him sigh, something breathy and beautiful, and you swallowed obediently. His hips jerked forward as you tightened around him, and his other hand came down to hold the side of your face.

“Doing so good for me, beautiful girl,” he praised softly, as he pulled back. He held you in place with his hands, his thighs pumping his cock into your open mouth, and your eyes filled with tears as he choked you on his cock.

He was so big, something you often forgot due to the gentleness with which he handled you, but when he got like this, it was unavoidable. His hands nearly spanned the back of your head, his thumbs coming forward to wipe your tears as they spilled out of your eyes, his large cock blocking air through your throat. You moaned as his thrusts got faster, knowing he loved this enough to be rough, to be wild for once, that your body was the vessel he was using for his pleasure.

When you looked up at him, he was looking down at you, his eyes dark and cheeks bright with color.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, and you whined at the obsenity, “you’re taking me so well, honey, making me feel so good, that pretty lipstick stretched around my dick—”

Your head was swimming from the lack of air and his praise, and your hands tightened on his thighs, as his head fell back. He hit the back of your throat one more time, and another, and then he pulled out of you sharply, your body weaving when he let go of your hair. You looked up at him through streaming eyes, and Bob groaned looking down at you.

He moved fast, his hands hooking under your arms and practically dragging you over to the bed. You still felt hazy when you landed on your back, the comforter soft under your body, and a moment later Bob lowered his body over yours.

“Bet you’re all ready for me,” he said, his voice hoarse as his hand slotted between your legs. He jerked your underwear aside and you both groaned when one of his long fingers pulled through your folds. Bob’s head fell to your shoulder, and you felt him press a soft kiss there, even as shudder worked over his upper body.

“What got you this wet, huh, baby?” he asked, his voice muffled by your skin, his other hand reaching up to pull off his glasses and set them on the nightstand. “You like being on your knees for me this much? Feeling my cock in that pretty mouth, knowing how well it’ll fill this cunt?”

His fingers pulled through the moisture between your thighs, rubbing through you and teasing your entrance. You gasped when he dragged your arousal up to your clit, pressing tight circles around it as your back arched off the bed.

“Bobby, please, yes—”

He was gone a moment later, ripping your panties down your legs before he pulled you down to the edge of the bed, your legs hanging off of it as he stood between them. Your hair splayed around you, and you watched as he dragged his cock between your folds, still wet from your mouth. When he notched the head at your entrance, your head fell back, and he began to push it in. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto him, and you heard him breathing sharply through his nose, keeping himself under control.

“Baby,” he gritted, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you onto him. “Feels as good as sin, this hungry pussy. So wet and tight, pulling me in like you need it...”

You moaned at his words, your hands flailing over the sheets, needing something to hold onto as Bob pushed himself home inside of you. You wanted to sob from the fullness of him inside you, how you could feel him through your whole body, practically feel his heartbeat.

“I do need it, I do,” you babbled, the stretch of him overwhelming and perfect. “Please, Bobby, move, I need you—”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispered, and you reached for him blindly. You clutched at his chest, his shoulders, your hands curling into the robes and moaning when you remembered what he was wearing.

Bob laughed darkly, pulling his hips back slowly. His thick cock dragged against your warm walls and you could feel yourself clenching down on him, craving him.

“The robes are really doing it for you, huh, baby? Thinking of driving all the piety out of a man’s head because he needs this tight pussy more than he needs his god?”

His words were accompanied by a harsh thrust and you cried out as Bob picked up a brutal pace. His hips slapped into yours, his cock stretching you, and his hands tightened on your hips.

He leaned down to kiss you, his lips clashing against yours as he bent your legs back to reach deeper inside you.

“You like the thought of that, don’t you, baby,” he growled, his teeth dragging across your collarbone, “the thought of being so under a man's skin that he can’t wait a minute more without being buried inside of you? Needing to hear those sweet sounds you make while he’s fucking you, begging him to save you from the ache between your thighs?”

His cock was dragging into a deep part of you, brushing against a spot that had you seeing stars. Your legs were trembling from the tight angle but you thought you might die if he didn’t keep going, didn’t save you, just like he said.

You whimpered when his lips closed around your pulse point, biting enough to mark you, and Bob pulled back to look at you. His face was flushed, red and sweating, the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Love you like this,” you moaned, your legs shaking. “Fuck, Bobby, you feel so good, I need you—”

Bob groaned, his head falling beside yours as he rutted into your harder. His tight collar scaped against your neck and you wound your arms around his neck. As his thrusts pushed your body up the bed, his lips found yours again, dragging against you sloppily.

“No amount of holy wine could wipe the taste of you off my tongue, baby,” he gritted against your lips. “Need the sounds of my baby coming undone around my cock; ‘s better than anything else in the world.”

Your eyes rolled back as you clung to him. You felt like sobbing, you felt like your skin was on fire, like the only thing tethering you to this pane was the unrepentant press of his cock deep inside of you, his strong arms around you, his lips against you.

“Cum for me, honey,” he moaned, his voice sounding broken. “Make me sinner and saint, baby, let me feel it.”

You screamed, your back arching off the bed as your orgasm shattered over you. Your head lulled back, you felt the fabric of the robes rending between your fingers as you pulled desperately at Bob. Pleasure rolled over you, white hot and almost painful, all-encompassing and as close to holy as anything you knew.

Bob groaned as you tightened around him, your cunt pulsing as your orgasm wrecked you, pulling him with you.

“So good for me, baby,” he groaned, his hips pistoning faster, and you whined weakly, your body sensitive but needing this closeness, and his climax.

“Want to feel you, Bobby,” you whispered. “Please, baby, want your cum…”

His thighs were trembling and his chest was heaving against yours as he got closer. He ground his hips into yours, his fingers tight enough on your hips to bruise, his breath puffing into your shoulder.

“Asking me so sweetly, honey,” he gritted into your neck, “of course, anything for you, anything, baby, fuck—”

He came with a choked groan, his body tensing as he held himself over you, his hips bucking as he finished. You whimpered at the full feeling, his cock weakly fucking his cum into you, your combined climax leaking out of your core. The room was hot and Bob’s harsh breathing seemed to echo around it; you thought dazedly that that was your favorite sound in the world, the reminder that we was here, breathless, after being with you. He made to roll off of you, but you clung to him, wrapping your shaking legs around him and pulling him tightly to you.

The robes scratched against your chest, but we came willingly, turning slightly to wrap his own arms around you, holding you close.

“Beautiful girl,” he mumbled into your hair. His voice was so deep, so tender, and you drew in a breath, running your hands through his long hair. He nuzzled into you and your arms softened, loving the warmth that came from being with him.

After a moment, you felt his chest shake. You pulled back to look at him, confused to find him silently laughing, and Bob smiled at you gently, pushing some of your sweat-matted hair away from your face.

“That’ll be fourteen Hail Marys,” he teased, “and at least a dozen Our Fathers, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes and swatted at his shoulder but your boyfriend chuckled, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him.

“Worth it,” he whispered, his eyes bright and honest as he leaned up to kiss you again, soft and playful, "so damn worth it."

#Robert Bob floyd #Bob floyd smut #Bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #happy Halloween to ME #fleabag #misskielwrites

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rhettabbotts · 1 year

Note

Letting the demons win in your ask box bc I don’t want to ruin the beautiful moment in the dms but

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️squirting with sugar daddy admiral bob 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

ROBYN JAIL IMMEDIATELY

pairing: admiral bob floyd x sugar baby!reader

w/c: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only. filth, just utter filth. fingering. squirting. admiral bob’s nasty mouth.

You had just returned from one of the many galas of the year, kicking your heels off the second you were through the door and letting out a sigh that bordered on a moan. Bob let out a sigh as well, although his was more out of annoyance.

You see, you had teased Bob the entire night. It really started before you even left your apartment. You sent him a picture of your lingerie set, the one you bought with his card. It was a gorgeous blue, a blue that nearly matched his eyes perfectly. You sent the picture with no message attached before finishing up your hair and makeup, sliding into the expensive gown he picked out for you.

Bob arrived to your apartment shortly after you had done some last minute touch up to your hair. He was in a suit this time, something you weren’t used to seeing him in. It was always his khaki uniform, or in nothing at all. He looked insanely handsome, however. His greying hair styled like it always was, wire frames perched on his nose, his velvet bowtie knotted perfectly. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. His eyes raked over your form as well, taking in the way the dress hugged your curves perfectly - just like he knew it would.

“You look breathtaking, sweetheart,” he finally spoke, voiced laced with a hint of lust. He pressed a small kiss to your cheek before presenting a rectangular velvet box. You couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped you when he opened it and inside sat a beautiful diamond necklace. You reached out to touch it and he closed the box down, letting out a small chuckle at your reaction.

“Did you just ‘Pretty Woman’ me, Admiral?” You asked, laughing as well.

“Too good of an opportunity… I couldn’t help myself. Want me to put it on you?” He was already taking the delicate chain out from the box, eyes telling you to turn for him. He brushed your hair to the side and latched the necklace in place, fingertips brushing softly against your spine. You let out a small whimper and pressed your back into his front firmly.

“Behave. I would hate to have to punish you on such a nice night.”

You really did have the intentions of being on your best behavior, but you were bored. Tired of shaking hands and not being able to join in on conversations. Letting out hums of agreement every now and then. During dinner, your hand found its way to Bob’s thigh, smiling slightly at the way it tensed under your palm. He shot you a look, eyes squinting behind his glasses.

You decided to have a little bit of fun. You started massaging his thigh, fingertips creeping up just that much higher until your pinky grazed his zipper. Bob’s eyes widened and he choked on his red wine. He grabbed your wrist and placed your hand back into your lap, ignoring the way you pouted. Other than that, dinner was rather uneventful.

You didn’t stay too long after that, practically dragging Bob out to the car. He was silent the entire ride, bypassing the exit to your apartment and taking the road to his house. You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. You’ve been to his house several times, but rarely did you go after an event. You turned to him to see his jaw clenched tight, knuckles nearly white against the steering wheel. A nervous feeling mixed with burning desire churned in your stomach. You knew he was pissed and you knew he was going to put you back in your place.

Bob was quiet as he unlocked the front door, allowing you to walk in first. Now here you were, bent over the back of his lavish couch, wrists tied behind your back with his tie. The velvet causing a nice friction on your skin. Bob had you out of your dress in no time, leaving you only in your lacy underwear and the diamond necklace he gifted you earlier in the night.

“Someone disobeyed orders tonight,” his voice rough. His fingertips trailed down your spine before he landed an open palm smack to the meat of your ass. He let out a scoff at your tiny whine. “I’m going to make you cum on my fingers, baby. But that’s all you get, you understand?”

“Please!” Your answer earned you another spank, the sting hurting so good. Your head was being yanked back by Bob’s hold, hair in a makeshift ponytail.

“What was that?” His voice was commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please, Admiral. I’ll take whatever you give me,” you were panting and he hadn’t even touched you yet. Your panties were drenched and he let out a condescending laugh at the feeling. He held onto your tied wrists and shoved two fingers inside with no preamble, causing you to jerk forward and let out a pathetic moan. He wasted no time in roughly pumping his fingers in and out of you, quickly adding a third. He was stroking that spongy spot inside of you, pushing you to the brink of climax almost immediately. You were a whimpering mess, thrusting back on his fingers and drooling into the faux leather of the couch cushion.

“Bob, right there! Oh god I’m-“ And then he pulled away from you, yanking on your bonded wrists once more, making your back bow.

“You’re not getting off that easy, princess,” he spat out before sliding his fingers back inside you. He brought you to the edge more times than you could count. Tears blurred your vision and you were blabbering nonsense. The back of the couch causing your hipbones to ache slightly. Bob snaked his hand around your front, making quick circles on your clit, matching the speed of his fingers dipping in and out of you. The sounds of your wet cunt mixed with your whines and his degrading words were enough to push you to the peak. He milked that spot inside of you until you were gushing on his fingers, crying out in a soundless scream.

“Fucking hell, that’s a good girl. Making a mess all over my fingers and the floor,” Bob cooed in your ear, slowing his fingers to a stop. “God, that was incredible.”

He guided you to rest on the couch while he busied himself getting you a glass of water and a warm washcloth to clean you up with. Small words of praise mixed with him hushing your quiet whimpers as he touched your sensitive area. He placed small kisses to your wrists, massaging the red marks left by the tie.

“I’ve never- I’m sorry, I’ve never done that before,” you tried to explain but he placed a finger to your lips before you could continue.

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me sweetheart, I promise. That was so sexy, you have no idea. Makes my ego soar,” he said, chuckling a little bit. “You wanna put a movie on and cuddle here?”

“Can we fix some popcorn?” You asked, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. He brushed your cheek with his knuckles before placing a small kiss to your lips.

“Anything for you, my sweet girl.”

#asks #robyn <3 #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd #admiral bob floyd #bob floyd smut

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gabessquishytum · 6 months

Note

Spooky Season (for another 72-ish hours, though you'll probably get to this when we're firmly in /Holiday Season/ 😝)

Hob takes Robyn trick or treating in their new neighborhood; they ring the doorbell of the big gothic manor at the end of the street.

Robyn: Is it haunted daddy?

Hob: I don't know little bird, do you want to knock on the door together?

Vampire Costumed Dream opens the door, handing out candy and holding back a curious costumed Orpheus - there aren't that many kids in the neighborhood.

Happy Spooky Day friends!!!!

Omg. Hob and Robyn go as Batman and Robin!!!! They're not having a lot of luck trick or treating, since there aren't many families with kids celebrating Halloween in the area. But Hob promised, and hey! At least this house looks spooky.

As it turns out, Dream and Orpheus (mostly Orpheus) have been waiting in all evening to give out candy! Orpheus is very scared of the dark so Dream has been making a big deal of Halloween and spooky stuff being a fun and not scary thing. Having two superheroes come to the door is ideal!

Orpheus peeps out from his ghost costume to admire Robyn's bright costume and pumpkin shaped candy basket. Within 30 seconds they're pretty much best friends - Robyn offers a candy necklace from his basket, and Orpheus gives him a ring pop in return. Hob is trying not to coo over how adorable they both are, so he ends up looking at Dream instead... and just then realises how incredibly hot he is.

Meanwhile Dream is wondering how on earth he's managing to feel sexual attraction to a man in a batman mask and cape... he obviously needs to get laid. He awkwardly asks if Hob lives nearby and whether he'd be willing to arrange a playdate at the park for the boys? Hob agrees, and they exchange numbers.

Next day Dream sees Hob without his costume on at the park, and knows that he's absolutely screwed. Hob looks even better a flannel shirt and jeans than he did in stupid fancy dress. And Dream definitely sees Hob’s eyes lingering on him, too.

But of course the first thing Dream says is "I liked you better with the tights on."

And Hob just grins and nudges him. "And I liked you with the fake fangs. All the better to bite me with."

Robyn and Orpheus are about to see a lot of each other. Good thing they're already besties!

#the sandman #dreamling

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mngo-jii · 8 months

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HUZZAH UR REQUESTS ARE OPEN ONCE MORE!!! i'd like to request daniel page x male reader hcs where reader is an animagus! you can choose the animal! (you don't have to stick to one animal either!)

“ LOOKS LIKE YOU’VE GOT A NEW PET, PAGE. ”

animals: dog, cat, bunny, bird ++ can be read as gender neutral!

letter ✉️: I apologize if the animals I used are too basic or simple! Other specific animals can fall into some of these, though—like wolves in dogs, and obviously there's a wide variety of birds so you don't have to imagine a plain Euresian Tree Sparrow

ⵢ₊˚ dog (or wolf!) ૮⍝• ᴥ •⍝ა

...He does this mean thing where he commands you and talks to you like you're an actual dog—even in your human form!

If you get constantly annoyed by this, he definitely laughs at your face like a bully. Sometimes it seems like he's worse than Cassandra! (never the Frey twins though, that is crossing the line /j)

If you behave like an actual pet dog and do as he says or react to the things he calls you (good dog, bad dog), then he'll be a little flustered about it. Mostly amused, slightly embarrassed. It doesn't stop him from teasing you, but his wobbly grin and pink cheeks don't falter.

It's become such a natural thing, that sometimes Daniel can no longer help but to actually order you at times he isn't even teasing you.

i.e. during battles and he thinks it's not the right time to attack yet. He tells you to "stay." And to other people, it doesn't seem rooted to the fact you're an Animagus at all, but it is—especially when he follows it with a warning "sit."

On the bright side, you get praise constantly. Still as if you're an actual pet dog, but it's still praise nonetheless!

"Good [MC]. Good [MC] 😊!"

"Let's go, you did it! Good job, good job!"

Head rubs, head pats randomly, especially when he passes by. Bonus points if you have your ears out! He'll scratch them instead

Unfortunately for you, other people also act like you're an actual pet of his.

"Daniel Page, will you please put your dog on a leash for once?"

"What's Daniel's little pup gonna do about it?"

"Hi, [MC]! Oh, where's Daniel?" ("Daniel isn't my owner, Ivy...") "What do you mean? That's not what I meant at all! 😁🧍🏻‍♀️"

ⵢ₊˚ cat /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ

I have a feeling that Daniel really likes cats.

They're peaceful, they prefer solitude—just like him! It's no wonder his patronus is a black cat

And no wonder he likes you a lot. Too much, maybe.

Dotes on you a lot 😭 even when you aren't even transformed as a cat.

"Hey, [MC], want to partner u-?"

"No." Daniel snatches you away, squinting distrustingly at the poor student.

"Erm... O-Okay?"

"Chill, Daniel. No one's gonna take [MC] away from you." Robyn sweatdrops, looking over to him disapprovingly.

Asks you to change into your animagus form a lot-

At first he only made excuses to it—some were lame, some made sense. It was still apparent that he just wanted to pet and coddle you ��️

Nowadays he's shameless, even practically begging you to do so 😭 the excuses he once made that actually made sense are now just mere bonus points to if you did what he was pleading you to do.

He doesn't call you any names as much as if you were a dog animagus. The thought makes him a bit awkward, especially "kitten." 😭😭

But he does call you "kitty" in an endearing way when you're transformed as a cat, and in a teasing way in times you aren't—or if you aren't fully.

By that I mean if you only have your ears and tail out.

While we're on that, I should also mention how Daniel practically short-circuited the first time he saw you like that

He couldn't look you in the eye, poor boy!

He also calls you "tuna breath." Little bastard

ⵢ₊˚ bunny ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

Calls you "bunny" AFAHGSHK it's really cute! It's never in a teasing way, it's really just a term of endearment

It really flusters you because he does it with so much affection 😭 like when he comes up to your side and takes your hand to gently kiss the knuckles, greeting you with a soft "Hi, bunny :)"

"Morning, bunny"

"How're you doing, bunny?"

"Eat yet, bunny?"

"G'night, bunny"

I don't think he's aware of the grip it has on you 😭

Brushes down your ears to calm you down, like during times you're ranting!

Pinches your cheeks constantly! Especially in your animagus form, but as time goes by he starts doing it in your normal form as well

For some reason I don't think he'd do much if you were a bunny. I can't see much teasing, I think he'd just find you super cute jsnxbx

Probably makes jokes about you and carrots, though. Like he'd tell someone that you'd want a carrot cake even if you don't. Or that you'd prefer carrot juice over your all-time favorite drink (he gets the latter for you anyway, don't worry).

In grocery shopping he jokingly points at the carrots section and asks if you'd want a little snack 😭

ⵢ₊˚ bird ˏ₍•ɞ•₎ˎ

He kind of envies you LMAO

He wishes he could fly as well, especially in situations he's in the spotlight. He wishes he could flap his own wings and fly out of the situation

Calls you "birdie." And it's quite the opposite of "bunny"—he uses it to make fun of you only 😭

For some reason I can see him teasing you way more than the first 2 ones

You come across the pond and he sees a flock of ducks, he'll point at them and go "Hey, is that your family?"

Whether or not your patronus is a duck doesn't matter!! 😭 He'll use every bird in existence to tease you

Jokingly refuses to eat the roasted chicken at the Great Hall because he says he doesn't want to offend you. Girl

A crow flies past you, making you think it's about to attack you until Daniel pulls you away from its direction. "Looks like a certain bird doesn't like your species." "Daniel, I'm still... human."

All that aside though, a side effect and rather consequence of this action of his is that every time he sees a bird he thinks of you 😭 and it makes him think he's going crazy LMAOOO

He really likes watching you fly around, especially outside. There's just something so peaceful about it, and knowing it's you makes it even better.

There was this one time he saw a bird fly past the window of the classroom and he was like "[MC]?" and his seatmate looked at him strange

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ— written by lnr #hpma x reader #hogwarts magic awakened x reader #daniel page x reader #daniel page x male reader

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capturethechaos · 7 months

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Masterlist

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Sam Kiszka x Reader

Words - 3.2k

Warnings - Swearing, drinking, maybe a little bit of tension, I think that's it

♫ Skeptical Playlist ♫

a/n - Surprise! (I finished writing this at 2:30 in the morning, so I apologize for any errors, I will more than likely go through this and edit it later, I'm just very impatient and I wanted to get it posted ♡)

“Is she in there?” Jake was leaning against a light pole with his arms crossed and his eyes trained on the glass of the shop as the question passed his lips.

“You look like a creep right now, I hope you know that.” Sam looked exceptionally unimpressed by his brother's antics as he watched Josh squinting through the window.

Josh shrugged and turned just enough to look at his little brother. “I’m simply trying to see if your crush is working, since you’re too much of a pussy to go in and check yourself.”

“I’m not a pussy, I just… don’t know what I’d say to her.”

“How ‘bout ‘hey, sorry for being a dipshit and leaving without giving you my number, can I take you out sometime?’ I think that would go swimmingly.” Jake was wearing a shit eating grin as Sam shot him a cool glare.

Danny’s hand clapped against the tense muscle of Sam's shoulder. “Have you thought about starting with just going into the coffee shop rather than standing outside like a stalker?”

“Have you thought about shutting the fuck up?”

“Alright, it’s time.”

Eleanor’s mother had been attempting to corral the groom, Ben, and all of his groomsmen while you, Jackie, Robyn, and Nadine were trying to keep your cool watching the chaos unfold. You quickly found yourself standing beside your corresponding groomsman, Corey, being told that the groom was about to make his way down the aisle. Corey offered his arm to you with a smile, which you quickly returned, and you draped your arm over his.

The best man followed closely behind Ben, and you watched Nadine, Jackie, and Robyn walk through the doors into the backyard before finally stepping through yourself. The entire wedding just felt exactly as you would expect for Eleanor and Ben. The large backyard of his parents house was decorated to perfection for their day, a close knit close friends and family ceremony for the carbon copy of a book where the girl that was popular in high school falls for the nerdy boy.

You separated from Corey at the altar, standing on your respective sides with your fellow groomsmen and bridesmaids. Jackie made a hushed joke about Corey having googly eyes for you as you walked away from him, and you rolled your eyes, looking away from her to scan the crowd of attendees. It was a steady sweep for the majority of the people in attendance, but your eyes passed over someone a fraction of a second too quickly, and as quickly as they had drifted past him, they snapped back.

A mere two rows into the crowd sat Sam, already staring back at you with that stupid little grin that you refused to admit that you didn't hate. You blinked a few times, wondering if it was some strange illusion, a trick of the eyes. You wondered if you were to look away and look back if he would be gone, but when your eyes flickered away for a moment and returned to him, you were almost more confused.

Your lips parted, and in silence you mouthed ‘what are you doing here?’

His smile faltered for a second before widening, and he looked away only long enough to open snapchat and write ‘I’ll explain later’ before holding his phone up for you to see. You slowly nodded, keeping your eyes on him until the sound of the bride's entry music began, and everyone stood to watch.

Eleanor was breathtaking, you weren’t sure you had ever seen her glow the way she was as she walked down the aisle. The ceremony was beautiful, and you weren’t alone as you teared up watching one of your best friends marry the love of her life.

The time spent taking pictures, though joyous, had begun making you antsy as you watched Sam across the yard with a drink in his hand, laughing with a group of fellow wedding guests.

“You know he’ll still be here if you look away for a few minutes.”

You turned to Jackie with a glare. “I’m becoming increasingly aware of that.”

“Well.” Eleanor's voice stole both yours and Jackie's attention, and you turned to find her standing just behind you. “Lucky for you, all the pictures with the whole bridal party are done, so you’re free to roam.”

“Thank fuck.” The words slipped from you before you could stop them, and your eyes quickly found Eleanors. “Sorry, I love you. I’m just going insane.”

Eleanor chuckled and nodded. “I’m well aware. Go talk to him.”

You made your way over to the bar as you looked around, trying not to make it overly obvious that you were searching for him, but as your eyes drifted to the man behind the bar, a hand found the small of your back.

“You weren’t by any chance looking for me, were you?”

You offered a smile to the bartender as he handed you a drink before turning to look at Sam. “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think, Sam?”

He watched quietly as you lifted your glass to your lips, taking a small sip as you raised an eyebrow at him, and his lips began to curl into a smile of his own. “Maybe… was going more for hopeful.”

Though you rolled your eyes, your smile only widened. “So, are you going to finally explain why you’re at this wedding?”

Sam leaned in slightly, his smile turning mischievous. “I snuck in, you don’t think anyone has noticed do you?”

The change in your expression brought a soft chuckle from him, and he leaned back against the bar. “I’m friends with Ben, we went to highschool together.”

“Oh, so does that mean Ben is the one to talk to to get all the juicy gossip about how cool you were in highschool?”

A snort from behind you caught both your attention and Sam’s, and you turned to see Ben grabbing two flutes of champagne. “Sorry, did I just hear you use the words ‘cool’ and ‘highschool’ in the same sentence about Sam?”

Your eyes flickered briefly to Sam, who was chewing on his bottom lip as he looked at his friend, before turning back to Ben and slowly nodding. Ben threw his head back in laughter, and kicked off of the bar. “Well, if you consider a book nerd and debate club member cool, then yes, Sammy was super cool in high school.”

Sam scoffed, but was clearly unaffected by the statement, a wide grin on his face as he pointed at Ben. “As if you were any better, Benji, you were the captain of the debate club before I had even joined.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my friend.” Ben turned, walking back towards Eleanor and leaving you alone with Sam once again.

“Debate club, really?” You turned to him, a curious look on your face as your gaze locked with his.

“What? You don’t look at this-” His hands gestured to his tall frame as he continued to stare into your eyes. “-and think debate club champion?”

A laugh escaped you as you shook your head, and Sam’s face fell to a thoughtful expression. “What about you? Captain of the cheer squad? Most popular girl in school?”

You adamantly shook your head, hoping that he would continue to guess. His hand lifted to his face, and his finger tapped against the plump flesh of his lips as he looked around as if deep in thought. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. Were you a theater kid?”

You nodded, and his lips curled into a grin once again.

“Lead in all the school plays?”

You shook your head. “Tech crew actually.”

He hummed. “Hm, behind the scenes, I can see that. What about grades, top of your class?”

You shook your head, but he quickly caught the small smile that was playing on your lips. “Not top of your class, but on the honor roll, right?”

You nodded and watched as he beamed with pride at finally guessing correctly. You lifted your glass to take another sip, and Sam turned to the bartender. “Could I just get the same as what she got?”

The two of you were separated briefly for the duration of the dinner and speeches, but as you watched the first dance take place in the beautifully lit dance floor that had been set up for the evening, a warm breath tickled your ear.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your attention turned to Sam as his hand landed on the back of the chair next to you, and your eyes remained for a beat too long on the way his fingers flexed and curled around the frame before lifting to his eyes. The smirk on his lips brought a warmth to your cheeks that betrayed you, and you softly shook your head.

He quickly shuffled around the chair and sat down, leaning over to you and keeping his voice low so that only you could hear him. “So, I know Ben and Eleanor from high school. How did you meet them?”

“Well, Eleanor briefly worked at the same cafe as Nadine and I, and the three of us became really close. She kind of just blended in with our friend group well, and the rest was history. We met Ben not long after we met her, and we’ve been waiting for them to get married for ages.”

When your eyes turned back to the dance floor Eleanor and Ben were no longer dancing, instead other couples had begun to make their way to the floor. Your eyes briefly caught the gaze of Corey across the seating area, and you quickly turned back to look at Sam, who was looking out at everyone dancing.

“Are you ever going to get out there? You know it’s a wedding right, you’re supposed to dance.”

Your attention was stolen by Eleanor as her voice traveled into your ears. You turned to her and smiled, but shook your head. “You know I’m not one for dancing, El. Even at a wedding.”

“Oh come on, Y/n. She’s right.” Sam stood from beside you, and you watched him give Eleanor a brief hug and soft congratulations before turning back to you and holding out his hand. “Dance with me, I promise I’ll help you not suck at dancing.”

You scoffed, but placed your hand in his as you stood from your chair. “I never said I sucked at dancing, I just don’t particularly like it, that’s all.”

Sam smiled as his hand wrapped around your own and he began to lead you towards the dance floor. “Let’s change that then, shall we?”

Your head turned briefly to look back at Eleanor, and as she held two thumbs up, a distance behind her Corey stood with a pout on his lips watching you walk onto the dance floor with Sam.

Sam came to an abrupt spot on the dance floor, and you bumped into him before you realized what was going on. The hand he had wrapped around your own lifted your arm to drape it over his shoulder before dropping to your waist as his free hand found yours.

You wished that you could blame the alcohol for the tingle that ran up your spine at the feeling of his hand on your waist, but deep down you knew better, even if you didn’t want to admit it. He slowly began guiding you, swaying with you to the music that played over the speakers. At some point you realized that it no longer felt like you were surrounded by people, as you looked up at him and caught his warm brown eyes it felt like it was just the two of you beneath the setting sun.

Your bubble was burst by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and both you and Sam turned to see Corey standing beside you. “Would you mind if I stole her for a dance?”

You turned to Sam and watched as he raised an eyebrow, his eyes quickly flickering to catch you already staring back at him. “I think you could ask her yourself, but I was about to ask if she wanted a drink.”

Both men looked to you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat as Sam gently squeezed the hand he still held in his own. “I could use a drink.”

There was something you couldn’t quite pinpoint in Sam’s gaze as he looked at you, but the soft smile on his lips was enough to calm the nerves that had been creeping up since Corey interrupted the two of you. He turned away from you and gave Corey a curt nod before letting go of your hand and moving to wrap the other further around your waist.

Sam led you away from the dance floor, leaving Corey to figure out his next move on his own. “So… what’s his deal?”

You turned to look at him as the two of you made your way to the bar. “Corey? He’s nice enough, but he’s been trying to shoot his shot since my ex and I broke up, and I’m just not into him.”

Sam hummed, but didn’t speak until you reached the bar. He ordered two of the same drinks you had been sipping on throughout the evening before turning to you. “I’m sorry by the way.”

The look of confusion on your face urged him to continue talking, and you watched him take a deep breath before parting his lips once again. “For leaving without saying goodbye at the cabin.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Your eyes fell to your glass, watching the straw as you pushed it back and forth with one of your fingers. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I know.” His eyes were still locked on you when you finally looked back up at him. “But I wanted to. I had a lot of fun at that cabin, and I felt like an idiot for not saying goodbye… or getting your number.”

There was no stopping the smile that pulled on the corners of your lips as he spoke, and you quickly held your hand in the empty space between the two of you. “Give me your phone.”

Dear god, his smile.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, taking only long enough to unlock it and open the contacts app before it was placed in the palm of your hand. You typed your number into the contact info and handed Sam’s phone back to him. “I’ll leave the contact name to you.”

The sky grew darker, and the attendees gathered to bid farewell to the newlyweds as they left for their honeymoon. You stood in the cool night air, watching the car drive into the distance before you considered how you would be getting home, but it seemed as though your solution came before the problem arose.

“I’m uh… I’m about to get an uber… if you’d like to split the ride?”

You turned to find Sam stood beside you, his jacket slung over his shoulder and his phone in his hand. A smile grew on your lips as you nodded, turning to look back into the house. “Do we have time for me to grab my jacket and say goodbye?”

“Of course, this house is pretty far out so it’ll be a good ten to fifteen minutes before they get here.”

He turned with you to walk back into the house, leaving you to collect your belongings and say goodbye to your friends while he did the same. You found Nadine, Jackie and Robyn grouped together in the kitchen with freshly filled glasses of wine.

Robyn was the first to spot you, a smile quickly grew on her face and she waved you over, catching the attention of Jackie and Nadine. “Well hello stranger, how is your prince?”

Your eyes rolled, and a groan pushed past your lips as you leaned against the counter next to Robyn. “He’s fine, and he is waiting for me to say goodbye to you so that we can get in an uber.”

“He asked if you wanted to uber home with him?”

“He asked if I wanted to split an uber with him, so I will be dropped off at my place, and he will be dropped off at his.”

Your response garnered nods from each of your friends, and Nadine smiled. “So he can listen.”

Your eyes narrowed in on her, and her eyebrows raised in response. “Nadine, did you tell him to get an uber with me?”

“No no, he asked me if it would be stupid to ask you if you’d split an uber home.”

“And?”

She giggled, and her smile widened. “I told him it depended on why he’d ask you to split an uber.”

The heat rising to your cheeks had surely left a crimson blush across your cheeks as you stared intently at your friend, and your voice came out in a murmur. “What did he say?”

“He said he wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

You felt weak in the knees as you walked up to Sam, who had rested his body against the archway into the foyer, with his hands clasped in front of him as he stared at his shoes. You came to a stop once your shoes were in his eyeline, and he realized you were in front of him. He looked up to meet your eyes, and the smile you had grown to enjoy spread across his lips. “You ready to go?”

You nodded, and when he offered his hand, you did not refuse it. Instead you found yourself at the edge of the driveway with your fingers intertwined with Sams as you waited for the uber. He opened the door for you when it finally arrived, and slid into the empty seat across from you once you were comfortable.

The car ride was quiet, with most of your focus being used to keep your heart from racing as you sat next to Sam. His hand rested mere inches from yours for the entirety of the drive, and the ghost of his touch from the evening leaves you breathless. Sam was quick to step out of the car to open your door for you before you had even realized you were home. Your legs felt like jello as you stepped out of the car, and your eyes were locked on Sam’s as you got your footing on the ground.

For a moment it seems like Sam is going to say something, but before he got any words out the driver cleared his throat, pulling Sam’s attention away long enough to stop him from speaking. He turned to you and smiled, taking a step back toward the car door. “It was really nice seeing you.”

“It was really nice seeing you too, Sam.”

—

The next week is spent in limbo.

Typing, deleting, and rewriting messages that never get sent. Every once and a while you check your phone at just the right time and you’d see those three damned dots pop up and disappear, and you wondered if he was doing the same thing as you.

“It’s a conversation, for god's sake! It should not be this difficult to start a conversation.”

Even your friends had begun to tease you about just saying something. Literally anything, just to break the ice. It seemed as though Sam had been getting the same pestering from his circle, when your phone vibrated on your coffee table as you watched a show.

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, send me a dm, ask, or fill out my taglist form!

@earthlysorrows @amouratomique @castlebythesea @joshkiszkas @celestialfauna @streamsofstardust @lupinevanfleet @garagebandvanfleet @weightofdreams-gvf @the-chaotic-cow @dannythedog @heatmyfleet @screechesincoherently @trafficwasabitch @fleetsonfire @xserenax-13 @doodle417 @gvfrry @agirlwithmanytastes @b3l1nda @gretavanfleas @brokenbellz @freckled-wonderland @st4rdust-ch0rds @sarakay-gvf @angelbabyivy @basiccortez @s0livagant @kayleea122 @georgesstripedpants @carlybubs @ryegvf @obetrolncocktails @h-e-l-l-o-s @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @poofyloofy @callmebymym @jakeyboiiiiiii @myownparadise96 @welightthefire @gretavanbitches @jakekiszkasbestie @downbad4gvf @gretasmokerising @maddie-van-fleet @hippievanfleet

#skeptical #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka imagine #sam gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet imagine #gvf

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