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realisticfanfictions · 4 months

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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress - Part 2.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader: Part One.

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I'm so glad the first one was well received! I'm pretty self-concious about my writing, but seeing everyone's hearts and reblogs has made me so happy! There's also been a ton of new people following this page, and I'm so appreciative you guys are liking my stuff enough to keep up to date with my writing <3.

Word Count is 5,427. Hope you enjoy!

"What the hell was that?" You knew that this made you look like a crazy girlfriend, dragging your significant other into the cold room and locking the door behind you. You'd gotten a few curious and slightly concerned glances from other staff, but by this point they knew better than to intervene. White fog spewed from your mouth as you spoke, giving you the appearance of a mighty dragon ready to burn down anyone who stood in her way.

Sanji, who hadn't fought you the entire way here, rubbed his face with his hand and shoved the other into his pocket. "I was just trying to be friendly." He shrugged.

A cold breeze caused you to flinch, but you refused to show any weakness. "Bullshit." You hissed and gritted your teeth, unable to fathom this man's arrogance. "I'm not dumb, Sanji-"

"And I never said you were." Both hands were now in his pockets and he finally met your gaze. He looked tired and you could tell he was chewing on the inside of his cheek - a habit you knew stemmed from his nicotine addiction. But his forced eye contact didn't last long and his gaze soon drifted to the corner of the cold room. He let out a small sigh. "I'm sorry. I can't help what I say to women-"

You held up a hand. "I don't care about you miserably failing at flirting. Well, I do care, but that's beside the point." You took a breath, counted to five and stared at your boyfriend's beautiful blue eyes. "I know that you're upset, and though I am very annoyed at you, I will say that I appreciate you telling me you're sorry."

"So it is about the-"

"Sanji." He slowly closed his mouth and subtly nodded. He was listening. "I know that you like women, and that you'll move heaven and earth for one to glance your way. I know that. I knew that when I started going out with you." You licked your suddenly dry lips. "What I get upset about, is that you went over my head and spoke to my customers in a rather vulgar way. I know you think it's beneath you, but I take a lot of pride in what I do. I'm good at it. And when-" God, your lips were so dry. "And when you go over my head, take over my table, insult the place that took me in when I had nowhere else to go-when we had nowhere else to go, and then ignore my discomfort and make a joke of it?" You met his eyes. "I am your girlfriend, Sanji. Something that you're meant to love and cherish- like how- I can't-"

Before you realised it, you found yourself slowly enveloped by the love of your life. "Hey," He shushed you gently as he cradled you against his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." He murmured and placed a kiss against your temple. "My love, you're shaking. I didn't realise I made you this upset. Please, forgive me."

You couldn't help but laugh. "I'm just cold, dumbass. And still pissed at you." Despite what you said, you still buried your head in his chest and soaked up his warmth. It was then you realised how long it'd been since the two of you had been alone like this. Just soaking up each other's warmth and committing the other's smell, touch and the feel of their skin to memory. You're embarrassed to admit you forgot just how much you love his cologne. "Guess this is what happens when we don't have sex for a while."

He gave a breathy chuckle and leaned back enough just to press his lips against your forehead and stare into your eyes. "Well, I'd offer to remedy that, but I'm afraid the cold will affect my performance."

"Like you need an excuse for a bad performance."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

His usual, charming smile stretched across his face and he licked his lips, before hungrily diving in and punishing you with a particularly brutal kiss. He softly moaned into the kiss, and pulled back enough for you to see the devilish look in his eye as he bent down to press a kiss to your neck.

The door suddenly flung open and Pattie groaned. "I should've known." He exclaimed and threw his towel at the both of you. "Move. I'm trying to get some stuff for dessert."

Sanji grew a wicked grin. "What a coincidence. I'm trying to get me some dessert too." He chuckled and moved in to continue his assault, but was thwarted by an incoming barrage of hits from the disgruntled chef.

Backed by the sound of Pattie yelling in disgust, you laughed and shook your head, worming out of Sanji's hold and skipping out of the cold room with said blond on your heels. You both quickly ducked out of the kitchen and into a small hallway where you turned around to look at him once more. "Thank you for listening to me, Sanji. I may have blown my lid a bit too much back there." You fished around in your pocket and pulled out your lighter. "Go take a smoke break."

"Darling-"

You pushed it into his hand. "Take a break, and have a smoke. If not for you, for me. Because I honestly can't handle you when you're being all bitchy."

His shoulders dropped and a tired smile replaced his worried expression. He wrapped his hands around your own and placed a kiss against your knuckles. "Thank you, my love." He exclaimed and you waved him off with a smile.

"Whatever, you wallowing wag. While you're walking, watch the weather and water, and warn the workers if we're wayward. We don't want any wild winds, or another wreck this week."

He smiled. "You still don't realise you do that, do you?"

You blinked. "Do what?"

A hearty chuckle escapes him and he presses a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it." That damn smile of his made your heart flutter and while you were confused, you returned his kiss with a quick peak of his lips and watched as he walked off. You didn't understand why he was so weird, but you guess it's just part of dating someone.

Before you could go back to serving, a faintly familiar face poked his head around the corner. You squinted your eyes and watched as he walked around aimlessly. "Excuse me, are you lost?"

The boy in the straw hat turned his head in your direction and smiled when he noticed you. "Oh! You're (Y/N), our waitress!" He spun himself around and hastily walked up to you, almost tripping on the aging floorboards. "I didn't get to introduce myself," He tipped his hat. "My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I'm going to be King of the Pirates!"

That made you pause. "Oh." You dumbly said, not really sure how to respond. "That's... nice. But this is a staff only area-"

"You're a good fighter." The boy- Luffy you corrected yourself, interrupted and leaned in uncomfortably close. "Well, Sanji's a really good fighter, but you're pretty good too!" He made a pistol with his fingers and pretended to shoot. "You seem good with a gun. And the way you backed up Sanji and knocked that guy out? So good!"

Again, you weren't really sure how to respond. "I was only helping out, but thanks, I guess." You put your hands on your hips. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He tilted his head in confusion. "No, I'm fine."

You blinked. "But you're in a staff only area."

He nodded. "I am."

"...And you know you're not a staff member?"

He shook his head. "I'm not."

You sighed and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "I mean, why are you here?"

A smile returned to his face. "Oh, why didn't you just say so!" He waved his hand around as if announcing something great. His eyes wandered around the room, as if searching for something in the distance. You were intrigued. "I'm trying to find..."

You leaned in. "You're trying to find...?"

"Yes, I am trying to find..." His eyes slowly drifted downward until they met yours. They sparkled with great mysteries waiting to be unveiled, a sense of adventure and bravery and fearlessness that you couldn't help but admire. He smiled. "A toilet!"

Before you could stop yourself, you smacked him upside the head. "Don't pretend like it's some big, life-altering explanation, you dumbass!" With each word, you brought your hand down to slap him on any part of his body you could touch. "Besides, there's three signs for the bathroom on the way here!"

He held up his hands, trying to block your attacks. "Ow! I'm sorry! Stop hitting me!"

You rolled your eyes and stepped back, crossing your arms and glaring at him. "You're such an idiot. Fine, come with me. You can use the staff bathroom, it's right down this hall."

Luffy slowly uncurled himself and nodded. "Thanks a lot! I was sure I was going to crap my pants, you're a life saver!"

"I didn't need to know that." You sighed and beckoned him to follow with a finger. "So, King of the Pirates, huh?"

He nodded, his straw hat bobbing with him as you both walked. "Yep! We have a map to the Grand Line, and we're going to find the One Piece."

You laughed. "Only idiots with a death wish go after that thing."

"Hm, not really. I don't have a death wish." He replied with a shrug.

With a dramatic sigh, you playfully shove him. "Sure you don't, straw boy. What's next? You're gonna tell me you don't plunder and raid villages wherever you go?"

He shook his head. "We don't."

You quirked an eyebrow. "Don't yet?"

He shook his head again. "No."

"Fine then, where are you going to get money?"

"Finding the One Piece will give us all the money we'll ever need."

"And until then?"

"I don't know, but we'll figure something out."

You scoffed. "They always say that."

He tilted his head. "Do you know?"

"I do. You can kidnap a princess and random her, rob an orphanage, maybe even take a business hostage and demand money or you'll start executing patrons."

Luffy stopped and stared at you. "That's really dark."

You shrugged and continued walking. "That's what you have to do if you want to find a crazy man's last fuck-you to the government."

His smile turned into a frown. "You don't think it's real?"

"I think that Gold Rodger wanted to bring about the age of pirates, and he did." You explained. "Doesn't matter if it's real or not. Its impact on the world is more valuable than any treasure he ever got his hands on."

Within a second, he was in front of you with a cheeky grin. "Ah ha! So you do think it's real!"

A sigh escaped you. "I honestly don't care enough to believe if it's real or not. What is real is the pain, and death it's caused. Nations tearing each other and themselves apart just to find a glimpse of a shred of evidence that horrid thing is real. And men setting sail and abandoning everything just because they think finding a gold chest is worth losing their family over. Then those same men kill other men with families just like theirs, spreading their filth and disease to every home, town and village just because they can't stand the thought of a man doing the right thing by taking care of his family."

Luffy tilted his head. "You sound like you care a lot."

A tense silence filled the air and you stared at this strange, but oddly charming character. So innocent, so naive. He had no idea of the world you knew, the one that you grew up in. It's rare to find someone this optimistic, or sheltered. You pointed behind him. "Bathroom's there. Leave when you're done."

To say that you were affected by his words would've been both an understatement, and a poor choice of phrasing. You weren't affected, per say. They rubbed you the wrong way, and brought up memories you would rather just forget. It didn't help that they ordered one of everything on the menu, and you were constantly bringing out dishes to a smiling, unbothered Luffy who just shoveled food into his mouth. It was actually really impressive, and you were glad that they didn't come last week when the Baratie did that eating competition. You're pretty sure you probably would've gone out of business.

With a perfectly manufactured smile, you set down the plate of ribs on the only available space between piles of plates and stacked glasses. "And this is the final dish - our limited-time French-Style Ribs braised in red wine and cranberry." You straightened up and the plate was instantly pulled towards the centre of the table. The man in the pirate attire groaned, but he shoved a rib in his mouth and moaned. "I hope everything's been to your satisfaction. Can I get anything else for you tonight? A refill perhaps?"

The orange-haired woman smiled. "We're fine for now, thanks." With a nod, you turned to leave. "When does the bar close?"

"It's open all night, but we do a deep clean around three to four in the morning. So you may not be able to get anything on tap, but prepackaged drinks are always available." The words flowed off your tongue like a rehearsed speech, probably because it was. She smiled and nodded her thanks, before turning back to the conversation they were in. As you walked away, you spotted a certain red-haired pig-tail wearing waitress near the till. "Macy."

Said waitress flinched and slowly turned to you. "Yes, Ma'am?"

More than a little annoyed, you walked up to her and lent against the counter. "Why are you at the till?" She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying and failing to start a proper sentence until you stopped her with a hand. "Macy, there was one rule; don't touch the till. What are you doing right now?"

She paused. "Touching the till?"

You nodded. "Good job, you got something right." With a small glare, you pushed past her and looked at the total that she was charging, then compared it to the bill laying on the countertop. "Unless they've agreed to add a ฿65 tip on top of your 10%, I guess we've just found out who's been messing with the till."

"I-"

"You're done for the night." Her shocked expression turned into a bitter snarl and she began to tug at her apron. "Macy, you've got the body of a used fucking tube of toothpaste. No one wants to see you undress here, get the fuck out. You'll make the customers sick." She gasped, but you dismissed her with a wave and she stormed out of the restaurant. You sighed and opened the drawer beneath the counter, pulling out the book of paid receipts and bookings. Both luckily and unluckily, it was getting close to end-of-shift which meant that you had time to fix Macy's mess, but that the mess was probably smeared dog shit on a window at this point.

Grabbing out your pen and a calculator, you mentally prepared yourself for the long night ahead, when you felt something touch your back. "Hello, my darling." Sanji greeted with a kiss to the back of your neck, then rested his chin on your shoulder to watch what you were doing while his hand lazily stroked your side.

With a sigh, you turned your head to kiss him. "Hey, jerkface. Glad to see someone with a shred of intelligence." You greeted, then scribbled down some notes. "Someone's fucked the till again, and screwed the customers' out of at least three-hundred berri from what I can see."

His smile dropped and he reached for the book, tilting it so that he can see it. "Closer to five-hundred than anything. This table didn't even order the Lobster Thermidor, what the hell's going on."

You slammed your pen down in frustration and leaned back against him. "No idea, but I'm going to have to make some calls and refund tables." He wrapped his arm around your stomach and kissed the back of your ear which made you sigh and rub your face. "I need to make a list and figure out how much we fucked people out of money." You happened to look over at Luffy's table. They looked like they were toasting. "Can you bill them? It'd help a lot."

He smiled and took the piece of paper you had offered him. "Of course, my love. And give me a list of the rich pricks you want me to call. We'll divide and conquer."

"What did I do to deserve you?" You asked as he picked up the golden dish used to store cash.

"You, my love, didn't need to do anything." He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your lips, before turning around and walking over to do as you asked.

Turning back to your mammoth task, now with a smile, you picked up your pen again and started to scribble down the sum total of every receipt that was put in by Macy. It was a good call by Zeff to bar everyone else but yourself from accessing the till. It was pretty easy to differentiate your neat and straightforward ones from Macy's abominations, but it still didn't make it any less painful. The Baratie didn't even serve quiches, so why would she even put that in there?

The telltale sound of Sanji's shoes smacking against the floorboards broke your concentration, and you looked up confused. "That was fast-" You were interrupted by him flashing you what was on the bill. You frowned at his abrupt interruption, but then squinted and jolted back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "What the shit is a 'treasure tab'?"

"We're going to find out." He said with a smile and walked past you to the kitchen. This was going to be interesting.

Just as you thought, the kitchen door slammed open and Zeff's wide, intimating frame appeared in the doorway. "Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?"

Luffy, sweet and innocent Luffy, popped his head out of his booth and waved his milkshake. "Here!" Zeff locked onto him and marched toward the young boy.

"You seem to be confused about the rules of the house," You and Sanji, who had just come out of the kitchen, exchanged knowing glances and you placed down your pen. Led by your boyfriend, you grabbed a jug of water while he grabbed a tray of complimentary scones and he slowly walked around the scene that was unfolding. "But Baratie doesn't offer credit. You eat, you pay." You both stopped at a nearby empty table. You started to examine the glasses in detail, admiring the way the light hit the material, while Sanji wiped the table with a piece of lettuce someone forgot to clean up.

Setting down his glass, Luffy looked up at Zeff. "I think you're confused." Sanji and you shared a look. "The meal has already been paid for. I just haven't given you the money yet."

Pretending to look around the room, you caught the stern, no-shits-given look Zeff was offering the kid. "Yeah, and how's that?"

Luffy smiled. "You can add it to my treasure tab."

You and Sanji snickered at the tone in Zeff's voice. "And what, pray tell, is that?"

"A way to get your ass beat." You mumbled and Sanji quietly shushed you with a smile, trying to hear the rest of what was being said.

Still not realising what's happening, Luffy kept talking. "I may not look like a big deal yet, but you're talking with the future King of the Pirates. And as soon as I find the One Piece, I'm gonna come back here, pay this bill in full, and with interest."

Zeff chuckled. "I got a better idea." And yanked Luffy out of his booth, dragging the confused pirate to the kitchen.

A sigh escaped you. "That certainly didn't disappoint." You commented and picked up Sanji's makeshift lettuce-rag, pocketing it to throw out later. "Guess we have a new busboy."

Sanji shook his head, but kept his eyes on the door. "Wouldn't be good at anything besides dishes." He said and paused for a second. You could see the metaphorical gears in his head turning, before he nodded toward the kitchen. "Hold on."

"Sanji, don't-" But it was too late, the love of your life had walked off, probably to rejoin the line. Your fists balled up and you let out a frustrated groan, your heels clicking as you followed after him. "Sanji! Don't piss him off. Sanji-"

The doors swung open as the blond barged in the kitchen with you on his heels. Your words fell on deaf ears and you rolled your eyes at Zeff who looked between you two confused. "Oy, oy. What do you think you're doing?"

You threw up your hands, but helped Sanji shrug off his coat. "I tried to stop him." You said as you wrapped his jacket around your arm and lent against the wall behind you.

The blond scoffed and held up a hand. "Com on, old man. Enough's enough-"

"Put the jacket back on, little Eggplant. You're not done with your shift yet." Zeff's face was tired and stern as always, and all you wanted to do was pull Sanji back and apologise for the extra stress. However, you knew that the two were stubborn and that would only cause more trouble than it's worth.

Sanji's tone suddenly sharpened. "Let me back on the line, or I walk." You almost said something, but considering you said something similar this afternoon, you settled for a glare.

"You can walk right back into the ocean for all I care. You cook another meal like that in my kitchen, it's going right where the last one did."

"You can kick me out of the kitchen all you like. I'll never be a waiter."

"Well that's fine by me, because you sure as hell are never gonna be a cook in my restaurant. Have you got that?"

Your heart broke seeing your boyfriend's face when he glanced over at you. He was so angry, and hurt, and upset. His hands were balled into fists, but you just shook your head. It wasn't worth it. His gaze shifted back to the man who had taken the both of you in, and then he turned heel, storming out of the kitchen via the hallway.

"So it was Macy, then?" When you nodded, Zeff sighed and held his face in his palm. The two of you were alone on the balcony overlooking the ocean. You were all on a thirty minute break before the next service, and you'd stumbled across the old man while trying to get some peace and quiet. The man you both admired and respected more than anyone was sat beside you tiredly rubbing his face. "And where is she now?"

You fought back what you really wanted to say, and simply shrugged, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "I sent her home for the night. Didn't want to see her fucking face, the red-haired bitch."

He shifted in his chair and leaned forward toward you, pointing a finger in your direction. "There is no talk like that in the Baratie."

You rolled your eyes and put your glass down. "It's not a big deal. Everyone here curses-"

"But you never use such vulgar language when talking about a woman." He said, his tone firm and leaving no room for arguing. "I always taught both you and that boyfriend of yours to never speak badly about, or to, a woman. Just because you're twenty-one now, doesn't mean a thing. Get that?" Ever since you were fifteen, he's drilled his way of life into your head. From scrubbing the decks every time you dropped food, to spending late nights learning the difference between the various cutlery the Baratie offered, it was almost like his life's mission to turn you into a mini-him. To this day, you couldn't eat salad with a table fork, even though the minute difference between a salad fork and a table fork were so inconsequential they were practically the same fucking thing.

You bit the inside of your lip. "Well that bitch-"

"Macy."

The condensation floating slowly down your glass seemed to be more interesting than his face. "Macy has ruined all the work I've done to make the Baratie a place where you can just sit down and enjoy a good meal with the best service around. You know, I've had to deal with so much shit. More than anyone in this goddamn place. All the harassment explained away as jokes and if I'm uncomfortable with it, I'm just 'not getting the joke'. And then having to spend hours listening to the most intolerable stories about slick, rich pricks with small dicks bitching about their toxic chicks with plastic tits. And expecting me to not spit or get sick when they talk about me like I'm some quick flick." You took a breath, counted to five, and licked your lips. "But it's not enough that she'll get away with it. You also won't let me complain about her."

He sighed. "She isn't going to get away with it." You scoffed and raised your glass to take another sip, but a hand under your chin guided your gaze to him. "Look at me." Hesitantly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. "She," He spoke slowly, his intense blue eyes piercing into mine in a way that made you feel small. "Is going to be dealt with." His hand released your chin and migrated upwards to rest atop your head, softly patting your head like he used to when you were younger. "You've done well, little Sprout." You sucked in a breath and nodded, but your pseudo-confidence wasn't fooling the old man. "And if any of these 'rich pricks with small dicks' ever bothers you again, tell me. Nothing is worth you being treated like a sack of shit over. Not the Baratie, not anything."

A fake chuckle wormed its way out of you, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Thanks, Dad."

A smile spread across his face and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in and pressing his lips to your forehead. Zeff smelled like a thousand scents, oregano, paprika, and a dash of vanilla extract, but his warm touch and the feeling of his scruffy beard against your scalp only felt like one thing: safe. You hadn't realised you closed your eyes until you felt him pull away. "Now then, I've got some calls to make."

With a groan, he got up to his feet. "Are you sure? My waitress, my mistake."

He shook his head. "My Baratie, my mistake." He walked past, patting you on the head as he left the balcony.

It was time to face your boyfriend, and you were dreading it. With his coat jacket wrapped over your arm, you slowly made your way down the hall to the kitchen. The doors were swinging slightly, so you knew that someone had just walked in, and you took a deep breath, walking over to the entrance - ready to go in.

"...banned from the line." You paused when you heard Sanji's voice float through the air.

"But that meal you cooked was incredible!"

A smile graced your face and you lent against the wall just beside the doors. "The True Bluefin Sauté?"

"Yeah!"

"You tried it?"

"Yeah, of course I did! I couldn't help myself. I didn't think the food here could get any better. You know, you're a really good cook. Why is Zeff making you wait tables?"

"'Cause he's jealous. I should be running this place, but the old man's so stubborn it'll never happen."

"So, that's your dream. To be head chef of the Baratie."

A pause. "I guess-"

"No, it's not." Both men looked up at you when you entered the double doors.

The other voice who you now realised was Luffy looked at you confused. "It's not?"

Sanji laughed breathlessly and looked at the table he was sitting at, flicking open his lighter and closing it again. "It's not." He confirmed. You smiled and walked over to where your boyfriend sat, draping his coat over an empty chair.

"So you love to cook. You just don't want to cook here?"

The blond grabbed out a cigarette and looked to you where you had taken up residence next to him. When you nodded, he ignited the lighter you gave him earlier and lit the end of his cigarette. He took a drag and hummed. "There's... this place," He started and his eyes drifted to yours. You both shared a small smile. "Where you can find ingredients from all four seas. East Blue, West Blue, North and South - they call it the All Blue. Nobody knows where it is, but..." His gaze lifts heavenward. "There's fish there that have never been seen. You know, rare seaweeds, spices that have never been tasted. It's a cook's paradise, and I'm gonna find it one day." He looked back at you and placed his hand over yours. "That's my dream."

Luffy's gaze was soft, but also intense. "If you want to cook, you should cook. Don't let some stubborn old man stand in the way of your dream." He smiled. "Stand up to him! Tell him what you want."

"It's more..." Sanji looked over at you. "Complicated, than that."

The young boy shrugged. "I don't really do complicated either."

You scoffed. "For someone who claims to be a pirate, you don't like a lot of things that pirates are known for."

Luffy looked at you. "For someone who doesn't like pirates, you sure do act like one."

Before you could say anything, frantic banging on the staff exit caught you all off guard. Begging for help, a man tumbled in and fell to the floor, barely having the strength to cling onto the countertop. On instinct, you went to pull out your gun but stopped when your boyfriend raised a hand to you and marched toward the man. Being the good Samaritan you certainly weren't, Sanji and Luffy helped him up onto a chair. "Are you okay?"

The man's voice sounded croaky and scratchy. "I'm so hungry, please."

Sanji nodded and moved to the stove. "Okay, you got it, man. How does some corned-beef fried rice sound?"

Pattie, appearing from his break, quickly stood up and followed after him. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded.

The blond didn't bother to look at him and you gave the pirate a warning look before moving to the fridge. "At Baratie, everyone eats." The love of your life explained as you rifled through the fridge for the ingredients he would need.

"And who's gonna pay for that? This is a business, we can't be giving handouts to every down-on-his-luck pirate that washes up."

"If a man is hungry, I feed him. Thank you, darling." He said when you handed him the beef.

Pattie looked at you for help, then back at him when you just shrugged. "Zeff kicked you off the line."

"Yeah, well, I don't see the old man here. Do you?"

The other chef looked at you once more, and you shrugged at him again. You both knew it was a losing battle, and so he waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, your funeral."

You couldn't keep your eyes off the strange pirate while he sat and ate, and explained what had happened to him. Sanji was way too nice a person for people like him to deserve. You knew pirates, and a part of you was tempted to hide the silverware.

"He's a good guy." Luffy, who was slowly becoming less and less of a pirate in your eyes, said and you nodded.

"Sanji's brilliant." The words came easily. "He's the kind of guy that only comes once a generation. He's a dumbass, sure, but he's a good dumbass."

He thought for a second, before turning to Sanji. "You know, if Zeff doesn't appreciate you, you should join my crew."

Your chair scraped as you stood and left the room.

A/N: I am genuinely loving writing this! As said above, I normally tend to leave the reader's backstory and personality ambiguous, but this character has just taken on a personality of her own! This one is a bit longer because I felt like there wasn't enough content in this upload to justify it. I wouldn't want to waste everyone's time with like, two conversations. I'm kinda happier with the longer/more in-depth parts because I get to spend more time building up characters and relationships, and I'm less tempted to accidentally write and spoil things that the OPLA fans haven't seen yet.

Also, I've grappled with the ages for a while now, and I've officially decided that this AU will have Sanji and (Y/N) be 21. Normally I'd leave the reader's age ambiguous, but since age is important to this story, it's needed to be put in there.

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astarionfixation · 1 month

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Chapter 6: "It won’t hurt but a moment, darling"

Part of "Am I Fu**ing Insane !?!" A multi chapter adventure in Astarion’s mind

Rating: Mature for mentions of sex and blood

CW mentions of sexual assault, sex trafficking, panic attacks

Word count count: 6.5k yep, I was away for a week but at least I come bearing gifts words

Pairings: Astarion X OFC Tav

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54356776/chapters/138874459

I have a quite serious praise kink. Which also means compliments in the forms of tags and/or comments might very well spur me to write and post more

** Thoughts "" Dialogue - - Remarks ++ Quotes / Memories

The scene at the inn looks extremely familiar and he's sure some corners of it resemble quite accurately the night before. Except his delusional hopes to find a solution to his current parasite predicament have all but dissolved, yet maybe shape shifted towards an unlikely alliance with her. Small, insignificant human that she is, yet each and every one of his companions seems to have a fascination with her.

And indeed, he catches her eye from across the room, as their accidental mutual friends are buzzing around her, certainly grateful to have their health and strength back without apparent consequences from the night before. And he is sure it's just gratefulness but from the way he sees the wizard getting closer and familiar to her, hand on her shoulder that drops to her hip, certainly with the excuse of the crowd around her, surely he lowers his head and gets his filthy mouth way too close to her ear to make her hear whatever he thinks will impress her.

He finds his teeth gritting and he swears it's just because

*No one gets to tamper with my food!*

In that instant it is almost too convenient that this lovely, smiling barmaid seems intent to care only for whatever he is going to ask, forgetting every other shouting creature that demands her attention for another pint of anything.

“How may I serve you, my lord”

And he has to bite his tongue not to laugh at the epithet, despite how convenient his looks have been in gaining him access to every place -and person- he has ever set his eyes upon.

“Well sweet thing” he begins with his mellifluous tone set to persuade fairies to give up their own light for him. A long, delicate finger reaches for a strand of her straw like hair and wraps around it, inviting her closer so he can whisper to her.

“I would be so, very very grateful if you could get me two glasses of the most precious drink you offer in this fine establishment”

His movements are studied and rehearsed and his brain might as well focus on the corner of his eye, searchin for Her and considering options to send back to Waterdeep different pieces of the mage in different boxes if his excuse for a flirt does not promptly focus on someone, anyone else but Her. He's not jealous, of course not, *of him?!??* And he knows, from her lips, from her mind how all of herself is pulled to him.

*It was my name on her lips last night! My name on her darn little book! Not any wizard from Waterdeep or otherwise!*

He's brought back by the clinking sound of two goblets that are definitely more elegant and rich looking than anything anyone else is holding in the tavern, and he knows once again how far his simple charm can get him. The girl is smiling at him, full of hope, pulling herself closer from behind the bar so that her bosom is almost obscenely exposed in front of him. And he would be lying if he didn't admit to the flattery it always was to see people stumble upon their own feet in an effort to please him, to be chosen by him for the night, blissfully unaware of how that meant their luck had turned on them forever.

A dark flash threatens to take away his attention from the scene and he knows it's much better not to linger on memories. In one of his exaggerated movements he finds the hand of the girl to bring to his lips, his eyes fixed on her cornflower ones. He plants a long, wet kiss that holds so many promises, none of which he will keep, and he lingers a moment longer so she can have her fill of his attention. As he slowly pulls away his index finger goes to tuck a strand of her hair just behind her ear, brushing lightly on her skin and he can tell already: a word and he would have her, she probably wouldn't even make it upstairs. He holds her gaze and her trembling lips just barely audible let him know that

“Not to worry my lord, it's on the house”

*Of course it is, why do you think we were playing this game, darling?*

His hand swiftly abandons her hair to grasp at the glasses, his work done. As he turns around to find in which ways he will have to skin the mage, he realises his lips are way too close to her ear, but her eyes are fixed on… himself. And they are somewhat even darker than usual? The look on her face he would have called imperturbable yesterday reveals something akin to disturbance today.

*Maybe I will actually have to skin the wizard tonight if he's the reason of her bother*

His head moves slightly towards the stairs to give her a sign and immediately he sees her wriggle out of her company and towards the path that leads to the upper floor.

*Still such an obedient little thing*

And he is only too happy to follow.

—-------

“What was that? What did you tell her? Did you give away your secret so easily just hoping she would let you drink from her?!?!”

He's genuinely confused, it takes him a moment to realise she must be referring to the barmaid that he already barely remembers. What did she have the impression was happening? Doesn't she know how he speaks and addresses everyone? How his charm is the one thing he has to keep in control of every exchange?

*Or is she actually Jealous?*

And as he closes the door of her room behind him, the glasses resting now on a surface, he begins to slowly circle -stalk- her just as he just did that afternoon at the glade, his eyes and smile focused completely on her agitated self, the soft traits of her face trying their best to look upset, yet all he can think is just…

*How adorable…*

But this time she's following his movements and turns around to look at him, her back now to the door, and the corner of his lip might be pulling ever so slightly as he considers the possibility of this ruse being just that, that familiarly naughty side of his brain already envisioning her throwing herself at him as they both fall on the bed and

*I might actually let her ride*

“If this is your way of offering yourself instead my dear, I thought we were already clear on the matter. But don't let me stop your plans of persuasion. In fact…”

He takes a step closer and his hand knows already where to find that sweet, pulsating spot just behind her ear, the idea of tearing at the skin and finally finding her sweetness without the need to imagine any longer makes him swallow emptily in anticipation, and his fingers are almost tingling due to the warmth of her skin being so close now and his muscles tense ready to pull her in, fangs almost bared when… she takes a step back?

*What is she playing at? We both know she wants this, she wants me…*

“Come now darling, there's really no need to play coy, at this point it would be only be a waste of time considering what we already shared”

The honey in his words betrays a slight irritation at the distance she put between them, his tone every bit the charming one he has rehearsed thousands of times and has never once failed him.

And thankfully! Thankfully, going through the pages of that little insignificant book allowed him to fill the gaps in ways he truly had no idea.

But now he knows, he has seen it in her eyes, transfixed on him despite the blood, or perhaps exactly because of it.

“But if it pleases your wounded pride you can tell me all about your protestations from your sweetly plump lips while I relieve you of every. single. piece. of clothing. that stands between my mouth and your lovely skin. Because that's what you want, isn't it?”

He knows how to punctuate and accentuate every word to paint an image.

And not that the mere idea isn’t inviting, he feels his own reaction both in his stomach and his crotch. The notion that, for once, he would actually enjoy taking something -He- wanted, -He- needed, for -himself- and not for anyone’s command or amusement, is almost reason enough to make this the version of the story he committed to.

“Don’t tell me that is not exactly what you envisioned whilst you…. How was it?”

And consequences be damned! Let this be a good use of that little vexing book, to cut any avenue she might think of going up to escape her own desire for him.

“ ‘Lay yourself down with my Voice pouring honey in your ears?’ No need to imagine my dear, in fact let me show you…”

*I will not be denied, and I won't let you deny yourself either sweet thing*

This is as good a version as any if it will get him access to her blood, maybe even her body because surely…

“I can't believe the privilege that has been afforded to you to still behave like a child and have people find it charming!”

He is so used to leading the game that this interruption comes too abruptly to leave her unscathed by his anger at seeing his plans crushed.

And if throwing her own words at her didn't make her confess her own desire for him, there is certainly more to use and hurt her from what he can remember of the little insignificant book. Something they share even. His voice comes out as sweet as the choice of words is cruel

“Oh you want to talk about childhood, do you? Do you want to go over how incredibly wise and mature you were “for your age”, darling? How that clever little mind of yours justified every kind of attention you were at the receiving end of because you were just… too enticing”

He inhales to punctuate the next words

“and how flattering that felt for you.”

He went too far. He knows it before he spits out the last word. He can see her jaw clenching and the deep inhale she takes, seemingly vexed whilst really, her heartbeat is telling a different story about the exquisite way his words were just the extension of his dagger at times.

Quick scenarios flash in his mind's eye,

*Is she going to cry? Is she going to storm out? Can she have anything in her arsenal to hit me back with?*

and to that his body stiffens like a spring ready to jump and react, as if any words she next throws at him could physically hit him

*Because isn't it just what I've done to her?*

It was right, it was fair, and he stood up straight with a hint of pride on his face because no stepping down now could mend her from the hurt his words just inflicted on her. He knew exactly what it had touched, he remembered every single *fucking* word he had committed to memory that night he first had his hands on her book. On her mind. He will not admit he even considered the idea they could have bonded over their shared trauma…

“Get out”

*No. No no no! This is all wrong! Where's the attack? Where are the words I can sneak around and throw back at her?! I need to build her up to crush her down! No!*

The fear of losing her anxiety-inducing presence fills his thoughts with venom, and if whatever this was has to come crashing down now, she can be sure she'll get as much damage as the loss of her brings to him.

“Well fine then, I'm sure it won't take me long to find someone kind enough to share their bed and blood with me tonight, in fact you're right, I might just go looking for that lovely barmaid again, she was so eager to please. Believe me darling, I won't be left out in the cold”

Her eyes narrow.

“You're delusional, as if you're the gods gift to every pretty girl who would open her arms and legs to you”

And that's it, that right there is the space between words that he knows will hurt just right, a cold sharp hit from the throat to that spot just above her heart that decides where her lovely colour and warmth will spread next. His crimson eyes narrow and he moves closer to her and when he's just about to move past her and grab the door handle he whispers with his head just slightly bent, so that his breath can hit her skin as much as his words will her heart

“Well… looking at you darling… I thought it was fairly obvious: she doesn't have to be pretty”.

He can feel how her body tensed up. How a strained sound gets trapped in her throat and a sharp inhale through gritted teeth have her swallow. The light of the candles is strangely reflected slightly more intensely by the corner of her eyes and that is how he knows the blow has hit just right and a strange satisfaction takes over in his chest, making him walk just a bit taller, just a bit prouder because all those decades using his body to get what his master demanded turned him into the perfect offering to anyone's desires and the least of his problems will indeed be to find someone, anyone, ready to take him in, if only he's available to give them anything and everything they might want that his body can provide. It doesn't even matter, he won't even have to think, his body has been marked and bent sinuously so many times his mind doesn't have to be there to give anyone anything they might want. Tonight won't be anything more or less special than that and the price for a warm place to sleep *maybe warm blood to drink* is something that comes as second nature to him.

He's out of the door and his feet guide him automatically towards the stairs, his mind trying to focus on the faces of any of the patrons of the inn whose sight might have already lingered a moment too long on him because that's how he knows, how he has always known that his job will be easier, his elegant form already paving the way towards a comfortable place to spend the night in as soon as he gives them what they want, and they all want the same thing anyway. His head shakes as if his mind better not dig further at that thought, and as he takes the first step down he finds his body slouching down instead, coming to sit on the step as his head bends down between his own knees, his long delicate fingers shaking as they pull at the back of his neck so that his head falls just lower and lower.

And among the flashes his mind offers of all the times he had to offer his body as the matter of an exchange for his own survival, a corner of his brain screams at the door now closed behind him and

*how could she let me go out in the cold again??!?*.

His shoulders shrug as he tries to make himself smaller. Maybe spending the night on the stairs is just as acceptable, easier, safer for everyone and safer for him, and how deep his mind must have kept him, attempting to avoid memories of useful seduction techniques coming back to him, to not hear her steps, if not her heartbeat, until the warmth of her hand is once again scorching his neck and he flinches too suddenly for his unaffected facade to remain unbroken.

He tries to turn around, his arms still protecting his face, wrapped around his knees and just his crimson eyes and dark circles peek through, looking at her in a way that might seem unthreatening enough that now her arms have gone circling around his shoulders… and it all suddenly feels warmer and there’s also something… weird, something he can't quite pinpoint, but something that feels like there’s no requirement for each and every one of his senses and instincts to be ready to react.

She breathes loudly, louder than even her need for air requires, and the noise alone should be annoying but after a few breaths he realises his own body is following her rhythm even without the need for it, but the slow, measured breaths are bringing an unexpected calm that washes over his tensed muscles, his jaw unclenches and the grip of his own arms around his knees, so tight he didn't realise it made him tremble, is now getting flushed.

*Because if she has her arms around me I don't need to hold on anymore*

The thought is fleeting and he will deny thinking that, but in the next exhale his body finally relaxes into her warm embrace. She hasn't said anything, done anything but holding him and guiding his breath with her own, and while a slight fear crosses his mind -because if she is to hit him with any word now, he would certainly dissolve- he’s also so tired of the charade by this point he can’t hold onto his persona anymore. It comes as a whisper that a part of him still feels betrayed by sharing, because it is the truth and how will that not be ammunition for her to use at a later time?

But his breath is not his own now, following in unison with hers and so the words escape his pale bloodless lips anyway

“I'm sorry, I couldn't do it, I'm sorry”

She leaves the silence holding space in the air for what feels like an eternity after his shameful confession, but he can suddenly feel her arms pulling him tighter to her. Crouching next to him, his head finds a way to nestle in the crook of her neck where he instinctively inhales deeply and the scent of mulled wine and flowers fills his entire being once again, and besides bringing back a hunger pang down in the depth of his stomach, there is now something almost soothing about what's become so familiar and intrinsically associated with her. He must be so stupid to allow himself to feel what seemingly resembles safety, if nothing else because he never knew what that actually meant, but he's so tired. Tired in a way no rest or trance can bring him peace and so even if her warmth is a lie he's making his peace with it, he'll pay the price in time, but for now he can just slightly rub the tip of his nose on that pulsating spot just behind her ear, her scent emanating from it as a sweet siren song for the beast his fangs belong to, but not without an unexpected and reassuring comfort to some other side of himself, something he hasn't felt stirring in such a long time that he had no reason to believe was still there.

The silence, filled only by their breaths, has become so familiar he might be convinced the stairs could be a welcome spot to spend the night if she keeps holding him like this, but that's when his own train of thought is interrupted by her low whisper

“Come on, come back, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry too”

And at that he shouldn't feel the warmth radiate from every spot their bodies are in contact with each other down to the centre of his stomach, but it does and it's as unfamiliar as it is pleasant. His body follows hers as her arms still circle him and help him to his feet, his head still following her scent, by convenience that also means his eyes don't have to raise from the floor to meet hers and that makes going back to her room easier.

She helps him to sit at the edge of the bed and that's when her arms retract their support and the loss of warmth feels incredibly wrong. With furrowed brows his eyes look for her to understand what he's done wrong to lose her embrace but they find hers as they seem to be just roaming across his shoulders to the leather atop his shirt. His shoulders move almost of their own volition and the leather is quickly discarded on the floor. She suddenly crouches down on the floor and the movement catches him by surprise, not sure what he should brace himself for until he realises her hands are reaching for his boots.

She might have sensed his discomfort because her next movement is announced by her voice before it happens

“I'm just going to help you out of these so you can lay down and rest if you want, is that alright?”

And he finds himself nodding before the end of that sentence makes it to his ears, the finesse with which her fingers are pulling and undoing his old boots is not something that aligns with a thing that has been broken and torn down too many times to repair and yet the careful way her hands find the way to undo them make it seem like she's dealing with something of invaluable worth.

He's slightly transfixed looking at her movements that only when her eyes meet his again, only then he realises she's done, and with a bit of uncertainty she's back up on her feet.

“Rest here, I will be on the chair and we can talk more tomorrow if you want”

But his hand goes immediately to grab her wrist because the idea of losing that safe feeling her warmth gives him now just isn't something he's ready to do without. He pulls wordlessly until she's sitting next to him on the edge of the bed and that's when he scoots back until his back hits the headboard and then his arm extends towards her in a silent invitation.

He can't read her expression but within seconds he doesn't need to because she's removing her own boots and

*surely she didn't mean to crawl across the bed to reach me in any way other than functional*

but another part of his brain seems to stir now at the sight of her on all fours moving slowly *languidly* towards him, until she's taken the invite and nestles her body between his extended arm and chest, her own arm now circling at the back of his neck.

“Is this…? I can't… nothing needs to happen, we can just rest, I am here for you”

And that sounds way too much like a challenge for his body not to stir, pulling her closer so that his nose can finally trace her hairline down to her ear again. Until the memory of her words make him shiver

+He holds a grace in the tiny bone of his wrists that clerics cannot give on freedays+

And it's both consoling and disappointing that the moment he can lose himself in her scent again, feeling her body so close to his, the words she chose to describe him come back to his mind, blessed with the curse of an impossible detailed memory that in this occasion lets him know, beyond what she could say out loud, all the ways in which her body, but most importantly her mind, have been devotedly dreaming of him, in a way that lets him know for the first time in his whole life and undeath, that someone other than himself cares about his existence, not only his survival.

*Maybe just as long as I can grant her immortality too, but still, she needs me now as I need her*

He nods as his head is nestled between her jaw and her shoulder, certainly agreeing but also to spur another whiff of that delicious scent only her skin, hair, sweat and blood could conjure, and that's when another side of him replies in a low, trembling tone coming from his chest

“I promise I won't go too far… but please…”

And with that plea his lips part slightly, his teeth now brushing against that pulsating spot with a rhythm that's been hypnotising him since the beginning of this game. His lips closing upon it in something it would surely resemble a kiss and at that moment, with a wonderful whimper escaping her lips, her head turns just enough so that she can look at him with the corner of her deep, dark eyes, her lips barely parted with a slightly faster breath coming and going through them and now he's almost overwhelmed because it was easier to focus just on that one little spot that meant finally knowing what bliss it could be to feed his deep seated hunger, and yet now the same wonder takes hold when envisioning her lips giving way to his, how easily they would part to give him access, how soft would her body truly be, pliable to his every need and desire, truly begging to be his and sate any and every hunger of his, because he knows, she said it in so many words, all circling in his mind and

+I will skip, stumble and fall, he’s the blinded fool and I’m content to stand by

I’ll be the conspicuously deranged lover of the air he walks past+

And he has a right at that to concede to the delusion that she might actually be infatuated with him for no other reason than his existence. For a moment he will believe whatever she saw in him was before she could realise anything about his immortality. For a moment he decides to believe her words, committed to paper in that little precious book that was never meant for anyone else's eyes, and that she is head over heels for him just because he's a worthy creature, just like every one of his conquest wanted to believe they were special to him, whilst he hardly remembered their name the morning after.

“it's alright, you can feed”

the words bring him back and carry a rush to his head filled with a million visions of her body, soft, supple and compliant, all the ways his hands and lips could roam those curves that gave him vertigo at the mere thought of, every way he could make her moan and coax pleasure out of her until she could feel as desperate for him and he did her now, every image fights for dominance and

*does it really matter where I start as long as I can explore each and every inch of her that’s covered in skin?*

his lips trembling, tracing closer to her and he’s finally about to taste the gates of her breath when her words hit him again

“but we can’t kiss”

His teeth have to clench because he will not lose his mind over this mere mortal toying with his needs! His eyes tighten to mere slits and his fingers are gripping so tightly to her shirt that surely in a moment the tearing sound will be echoing through the room. She has been playing him all along! She’s just doing this to mortify him and she doesn’t understand what she’s done to him! As his hands release the grip on her clothes he finds his nose trailing back to her neck, now tracing her collarbone with his hungry lips and

*If it’s a challenge you want, a challenge you’ll get love*

He nods so that his soft curls are now certainly tickling her jaw and neck, and he can tell from the way the breath has now escaped her lips that his plan is already working. His fingers roam to find the hem of her shirt and disappear beneath that, finding the stark contrast of the warmth of the skin on her sides, slowly tracing with his tips and nails to her bellybutton. Another sharp breath through her lips and she swallows emptily, and he can feel that just under his lips as they are tracing at her neck still.

“Astarion, did you hear me? You can’t…”

“I’ll do you one better darling, I promise I won’t touch any part of your body, for any reason other than feeding”

*two can play at this game*

He feels her swallowing again against his mouth and now he knows he can gently move his entire body to fit against hers. A leg between hers so that she can surely feel the response of his body, but even with half his chest pressed against hers, his fingers keep roaming her sides, down to her hips and disappearing again under the shirt, halting and changing their course just a moment before they are to brush against the soft underside of her breasts.

He can almost trace the curve and he can tell from her heartbeat that, despite her words, he’s not the only one who's hungry for the other

*but you wanted to play and gods I can make this a torturing little game for you too, my sweet*

An audible gasp escapes her lips now that his lips have locked onto a spot for a moment longer, and she might be expecting his fangs now, yet her body does not stiffen in anticipation for the pain, and that is all the more encouragement for him lo leave a soft, long, obscenely sounding kiss just where her neck meets her shoulder. The sudden jolt that travels her entire body confirming what he already knows

*your body is aching for me*

and so his lips keep leaving a soft and wet trail of kisses everywhere on her skin, coming down her shoulder and arms and back to her collarbone, while his fingers trace her sides still, and in a moment, when her back arches to meet his lips, he swiftly goes to pull her shirt down past her shoulder leaving her left side exposed, her breasts almost visible but her nipple still covered by the strained collar of the shirt.

*I need to taste you, I need to have you*

At that sight his body betrays him, as another unnecessary mouthful of nothing gets swallowed and he feels his cock twitch pressed against her hips, heaving at the rhythm of her breath. Part of him knows he needs to get this over and done quickly or he won't be able to keep his promise, but at the same time he loves to coax out that side of her that spent all that time thinking

*dreaming of me*

The part of her that is now, surely kept prisoner by whatever silly, self imposed rule she decided to lock herself behind.

*let’s see how long for*

When his hand reaches up, under her shirt, his nails start to trace the skin just around her breast and a deep moan erupts from her lips carrying his name in a way he never before loved as much

“Astarion!”

The corner of his lips pull just enough, because no matter what she said, he can feel she wants him in more ways than one, and as his nail dig just a hint too much in that delicate area just on the valley between her breasts, she exhales sharply and now he finds her breath to breathe her in, his face so close to hers that nothing is in focus, the tip of his nose grazing hers and he is now making an effort to keep enough distance between their lips yet she is likely unaware of how her mouth is reaching out to his.

*your rules, my love*

His lips trace back to her cheek and down to her ear to whisper as his nails trace her skin from the centre of her chest to that soft area south of her collarbone but still not close enough to her nipple

“Your blood just reaches out to me and blooms every time my nails press and trace just… like… that”

And the way her body arches at his words brings that soft, supple spot just atop of her breast too close to his lips to refuse now. He finds himself surprised at the idea that the first time he’s tasting her is not to give in to the delicious tempting bit behind her ear, but his mouth is now watering beyond anything he has ever experienced, his lips just sucking at that speckle of skin just south of her collarbone, where he can feel the rhythm of her heart so loudly that the distraction is almost enough to ignore that her nipple is inexorably poking through the shirt, just against his chin

“It won’t hurt but a moment darling”

and then two runaway words follow with

“forgive me”

barely breathed out.

Both words escaped his lips like traitors that were not meant for her ears, but that's quickly out of his mind when finally his fangs can break the thin resistance that the soft skin of her breasts was valiantly putting up.

The warm liquid hitting his tongue sets off an explosion in his mind, makes him realise he has never learnt enough words to describe the absolute perfection that the taste of thinking creatures could bring to his lips, it would take a poet rather than a thief like himself to describe the complexity and richness of the thick liquid that caresses his insides, from his mouth and down his throat where finally the thirst is quenched, and when it fills his stomach every single part of his body feels… relief… every muscle fills with renewed vigour he didn’t know his body could posses, and suddenly he feels his own cheeks, his own fingertips still digging in her softness, getting closer to her warmth, and the flavour is so inebriating that no part of him seems to remember anything that ever happened before her blood traversed his own veins and so feeling his own hips thrust against hers feels just like the most natural consequence of that bliss that's permeating every single part of his body. The softness of her body, even with fabric still separating their legs, makes him aware of the stark contrast with his own, his hip bones as much as his own hardness relishing in the pressure his body needs now, needs to feel as if she could be all around every single part of him. The train of thoughts is becoming so warm and fuzzy while his mouth is still indulging in a mouthful of the ambrosia spilling from her veins when a low whimper from her mouth makes him realise she's gone limp in his arms.

*shit!*

A shred of lucidity comes back to him and he forces himself to end the first moment of true perfection he has experienced in all of his existence. He plants a kiss on the punctures on her breast, gently closing them, and his hand reaches to cup her cheek, her head lulling to the side with slightly parted lips from which her breath comes in faint irregular gasps.

She is magnificent, the most beautiful creature his senses have ever witnessed, her life essence coursing through his veins maybe makes him more compliant to her and only her but suddenly he wishes he could pour every loving word and sign of affection he ever had to master to give it proper significance. Her flavour is more intoxicating than anything her bouquet tried to announce about her. There surely is no life nor undeath to ever be considered if it has to be without the smooth, velvety liquid that traverses her entire being, and now his as well. He should tell her, he wants to and words are about to betray him again when *thankfully* he manages to keep them all in, while only relinquishing a soft

“Thank you”

and his arms go to circle her torso so he can gather her to his chest, one hand caressing obsessively at her soft curls, holding her, wishing for his body to engulf any reaction that still comes from the trembling limbs. He will repeat to himself that this hypnotic hold she has on him is only due to the fact that her blood is new and fresh to his system, unable to recognise they are two distinct beings. He almost jumps when her hand sneaks on him tracing lightly at his jaw, she feels colder than usual and something akin to panic flashes behind his eyes for less than heartbeat, but then her eyelids slowly reveal her dark eyes once again, fixed on his, and a flash of her pink tongue wets her lips before she can gift him again the sound of her voice.

“you should have told me”

And the slight smirk on her face now makes him realise she’s spent but not in any danger. In fact, the rosiness of her cheeks, the breath still laboured despite her lowered heartbeat suggest something entirely different. Suddenly his nostrils are caressed by the soft tanginess of pomegranate that he now knows to be the herald of her arousal. For a moment he searches his own memories of the night he died and lived forever but he knows better than to linger there. A hint of pride takes root in his awareness as the soft, almost imperceptible jolts still travelling the length of her body tell him all he needs to know about what just happened: Pain and pleasure mixed and merged until the latter won over her.

“And ruin the surprise, my darling?”

He will deny in every way that

*really? I did not know...*

That she was truly his first and nothing could have prepared him for the way she felt. Nor the way he did.

Her eyelids seem heavy as her lips pull into a smile at that, her breathing becoming more regular and he can hear her heartbeat pulsating again enough to sing for him.

He realises he has no idea how to care for a human after a vampiric bite.

Along with the warmth her blood brought to his entire being, there's an unexplained feeling though, just at the mouth of his stomach, that he can’t quite name, as if her sweet reaction is just in preparation for a punishment, now that he has officially broken another rule imposed by Cazador.

*Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures*

He finds his face contorted in a grimace just for a split second at that thought, and while the instinct comes to hold her tighter to his chest, something else urges him deeply through a physical need to get as far away from her now sleeping body as possible.

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dino-fart · 1 year

Text

Preview of In Reina In Waal (My Queen, My Son)

Pairing: Namor x Female Reader

Genre: Action, Adventure, Romance

A Sequel to This Request

Summary: You are a queen of a kingdom known for it’s weapons and unique healing herbs. Namor had been trying to convince you to fight with him against Wakanda. When you refused time and time again, he continued to see you and formed an intimate relationship with you. This relationship resulted in a son you kept from Namor. But when the Talokans attack your kingdom and take you to Namor, truths will have to be revealed.

Summary | Preview | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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You stood there in Namor’s cavern with his murals, your wrist chained and you were dressed in white sleeveless dress. Your hair was loose and wavy and resting over your shoulders. A few cuts were on your face but most of them were on your arms from battle. Your fingers gently traced the painting of his face.

“My people tell me many stories...Many rumors...I don’t believe them, of course. Except...One.” Namor approached you from behind. You took a deep breath and turned around to face him. His gaze was calm and affectionate toward you. You averted his gaze and felt your voice die out. “Is it true?” Namor gently cupped your chin and turned your head to face him.

You closed your eyes not wanting to see his face. “Do I disgust you that you can no longer look at me? Is the mere thought that you had my offspring terrify you?” Namor’s blood began to boil.

You opened your eyes, tears falling down your cheeks, “I’m terrified of what he will become...”

“A mutant? Like me?” Namor gritted his teeth.

“A murderer...”

Namor relaxed his grip on you and gently cupped your cheeks. “I protect my people, mi reina, don’t you?”

“Of course...But I don’t go around starting wars! They told me what you did to Queen Ramonda...Was it worth it? Killing a mother who’s already lost her husband and son. Will I have the same fate?” You said firmly. Namor was quiet and looked away from you. “I beg you Namor...Whatever you wish to do to me, don’t let our son see it...” You began to sob softly.

Namor looked at you now, bewildered. He cupped your face and kissed your forehead. “Why would I do anything to you, mi reina?”

“Forgive me for thinking so, I am your prisoner and you are hunting my son.”

“I’m looking for him.” Namor corrected.

“Then why not send me? Why send Attuma? Someone who could terrify him.”

“I don’t want to argue with you.” Namor sighed.

“Just don’t hurt him.”

“He is my son, he is the heir to Talokan. He will see his people’s roots.”

“Our son. And he won’t see anything but blood and death if you continue this war.”

“Mi reina, stop this! Why do you speak as if I have no love for you! Like I would cast you out into the abyss?!” Namor pinned you against the wall and cupped the back of your head.

“I am no fool, Namor...I know that while you couldn’t have my alliance, you could have my child. That’s all you cared for...I allowed it because I loved you. I still do...” You said softly.

Namor felt his heart break hearing your words, it wasn’t true but he made no effort to come see you for several years. He let go of the back of your head. “I...I do not know what to say...But I will show you that you are wrong. When I get our son, we will be a family. You will be my queen of Talokan and he will be a prince.” Namor held your hands and stared at the chains on your wrists. He kissed your rough knuckles and gently let go. He leaned forward to kiss your cheek and you turned away.

“He won’t be your solider and he will be nothing like you.” You glared.

“That will be for him to decide...Sleep here, mi reina...I will have Namora come check on you.” Namor began to walk out of the room.

You fell to your knees, crying softly at the fear of what will become of your son.

Dividers By: @firefly-graphics

Tagging: @strangesgirl, @namorwife, @thealleydog, @wonderwomanxloki, @randomlurker21, @lflores2008, @missdragon-1, @kylorey25, @delsinhunter, @darkfairymoon, @nomoremutants2, @archangeldemigod, @dancingaroundfoldsinhergow, @jennifer092, @none-of-this-makes-any-sense, @gyurtu, @colorfultrashbanana, @yulyacristina, @angelinebaz, @wolfgurlsposts, @zoemaximoffskywalker, @supernaturallover2002, @missdreamofendless, @namorstan

#namor x reader #namor x you

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bekkachaos · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday 🚧

tagged by the loveliest @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @buddierights @swiftiediaz 💕

from the jealous Buck fic (that I have written many parts of and am stuck trying to fill in the gaps 😅)

"Are you a little tipsy?" he said with a smile. "What's got you so worried about me?"

Buck let out a huff. It's not that he was worried about Eddie, it wasn't even about his hesitance towards Mason and whether he was good for Eddie. He didn't think.

Maybe part of it was that he was having to share Eddie's time with someone else, and he was finding that the more time Eddie spent with Mason, the more Buck didn't know what to do with himself alone. He always used to be able to just show up on Eddie's doorstep and have a beer, or a coffee, or play video games with Christopher. Now, he was increasingly on his own.

He could do anything with himself, but all he really wanted was to be at the Diaz's. It left an empty feeling inside him, knowing things were changing, and he was getting left behind.

It also made him grit his teeth as his eyes trailed over Eddie's features, scruffy from having had Mason's hands and mouth in all of the perfect places between his neck and his belt.

That thought seemingly came out of nowhere, and Buck cleared his throat as he shrugged.

"You're not the guy who sneaks off to bathrooms to kiss your boyfriend," Buck said, and Eddie rolled his eyes a little.

"There was no sneaking," he said, a little gruffly. "We just got a little carried away having a moment alone. Is there a reason I can't be enjoying a moment with my boyfriend?"

Because I miss having you to myself.

Buck ignored that thought.

Tagging these beautiful people if they wanna:

@the-likesofus @loveyourownsmiilee @infallibledreamers @burntotears @ajunerose @jacksadventuresinwriting @elvensorceress @shortsighted-owl @lostinabuddiehaze

#buddie #wip wednesday #eddie diaz #evan buckley #jealous buck #911 #buddie wip #bekka writes

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Note

❓😤 for arkham riddler ofc

Im such a slut for this asshole im sorry-

Green

arkham!riddler x gn!reader/jealousy bub me too, i am the sluttiest for him, he is my flame, my muse 💚 minors DNI!! 🔞 500 words, cw: jealousy, kind of suggested threat requests are closed • kofi link • minors DNI • tag: finnie500

“Ok, don’t mess this up. I mean, you’re not going to. You’re Edward Nigma. You don’t mess things up unless you mean too.”

He stood in front of the mirror, teasing his hair back as neatly as he could, licking his thumb and pressing it, hard, to his cheek to rub away the stains. He groaned as he picked at the torn vest he wore. At least his shirt was in one piece, albeit filthy. It didn’t matter though, he was fine, he was cool, calm, collected.

Or at the very least, he was prepared.

At the sound of you entering his workspace, he took a deep breath and left the room, walking slower than usual, he noted, as though he weren’t excited to see you. As though his heart wasn’t beating so fast he thought he might faint. Before he turned the corner, he stopped to breathe again. He was sweating, losing whatever semblance of control he had left. You knew him well enough to know he was volatile. But usually his outbursts came in the form of anger, distress, frustration. He’d never really experienced a desire to let loose a barrage of compliments and declarations of feelings for someone before.

He’d held it in long enough though, and he’d built up the courage, or no…the brain power, he had to make time for this out of his more important work after all, to finally tell you how he felt. He felt silly, but in a good way. Like he might make a fool of himself, but that it would be beneficial to do so, a notion he had never considered before in his life.

As he braced himself for contact, he suddenly realised he could hear your voice, along with another, talking and laughing. No one visited him. He stressed over who might have come to the door to speak with either him or you, before realising he could just as easily take a look.

And so he was faced with you and whoever the hell it was that you were now leaning into, placing a kiss on their cheek, one to their lips, before waving goodbye with a stupidly doughy face.

“Visitor?”

You jumped at his words, not noticing he was there.

“Edward…I…no. A…friend.”

“Friend? That’s quite a close friendship.”

You smiled, blushing lightly.

“More than a friend. But it’s…new…so it doesn’t have a name.”

“Hm…and does it have a name?”

“Edward, be nice.”

But he’d already resolved not to be. He had been waiting his turn, patiently finding the right…time…the right words to explain himself to you. The late nights together, the way you knew how not to irritate him, a skill so few people possessed, himself included sometimes. You were absolutely perfect, and there was no way he was going to let someone else benefit from you.

“I’m not telling you anything, Edward. You’ll only do something weird!”

You walked out of the room, leaving him alone, his fists clenched and teeth gritted.

Not weird…criminal maybe, but not weird.

#finnie500 #finnie writes #riddler x reader #riddler #the riddler #arkham!riddler #arkham riddler #edward nigma

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misaverawrites · 2 years

Note

Hi, can you write an Andrew Deluca x reader? (hot...)

Crush, Crush, Crush (Andrew DeLuca x Reader)

summary: You have enough of all the teasing towards Andrew and you. Andrew finds it in himself to clear up the rumors.

tags: friends to lovers, your fellow interns keep teasing the two ppl who don't know the other one has a crush kind of trope, kissing, old grey's elevator drama lol, sudden passionate expressions of love.

a/n: idk he's kinda growing on me tbh

You love the hospital. You always had since you were a kid. While it scared other kids, it fascinated you with all the machines, doctors, and all of the excitement.

Working at the hospital as an adult undergoing your surgical residency? That was a different story completely. It was competitive and now that the excitement was happening to you, it was a lot less fun. It was even worse considering how gossipy the hospital could be, everybody spent all of their time here, and thus, it made them concerned with everything happening to everyone else who worked here.

That concern, unfortunately, did not stop with you. Or your love life.

"Can you just finally go there?" Levi asked you as the two of you walked side by side, He was on Dr. Pierce's service whilst you were going to work with Dr. Hunt in trauma for the day, hoping to get your certification.

"Go where Levi?" You asked suspiciously to your friend as he grinned at you, "You know exactly where I'm talking about, with who to be more precise. DeLuca." You sigh, rolling your eyes, "Yeah right, he doesn't like me like that. Besides, you just have a new boyfriend in your brain. Don't make it your project to get me a boyfriend." You did like Andrew, but you resigned yourself to never being enough for him. He needed someone better than you, at least you felt that way.

You clicked on the elevator button and when the doors opened, there was Andrew, standing there with his stupid, perfect smile and eyes. Levi gave you a knowing smirk, you wanted to punch him but stepped into the elevator with him by your side. "What floor?" Andrew asked the both of you, giving you a warm smile, "I'm going to the pit, he's going to floor 3." Andrew nods, "I'm in the pit today too! I think Hunt likes my experience, I'm not sure if I'm gonna go into trauma though. Y'know?" You nod, gritting your teeth at Levi hanging all over you, "Yeah, I do, DeLuca." The air was tense between you two, as Levi coughed subtly, "I'm working with Doctor Pierce today... Cardio's not my thing but, I find the heart interesting. Don't you, (Y/N)? DeLuca? I bet you both do.”

You turn to glare at Levi, “I am begging you, Levi, please, stop talking.” Levi stops but not before the doors open and he shoots you a smile, you roll your eyes and try your best to ignore DeLuca’s gaze. It feels as if his eyes gaze into you for a moment and then he asks, “Am I missing something, or has Levi finally lost it?” He laughs a bit and you sigh before turning to face him, “Levi’s like that. You know?” Andrew squints a bit, quizzically.

“No, because, Levi isn’t like that. I mean- he is, especially right now with the new boyfriend but I think you like me because Carina hasn’t shut up about you all of this morning and I know you and her work together a lot and… I think you like me.” Andrew looks proud, if not a bit nervous. He’s definitely not as confident as he’s trying to come off right now. You press the elevator stop button and turn to face him, “I do like you, Andrew but, you need someone better than me. I’m not a great surgeon like Meredith Grey or Amelia Shepherd and I think-!” Andrew cuts you off with a kiss, swift and impromptu, but a kiss nonetheless. You gasp, of all the things that you thought would be happening today, kissing Andrew DeLuca was not at all it. "Look, I really like you, I want you with me, you're going to be an amazing surgeon." With that, he kisses you again, pushing you against the wall tenderly.

"Wait, people are gonna get pissed if the elevator stops for that long, also... I want to wait until I can shave my legs and have a night of sleep and all that," You both laugh a bit as he pushes the button to get the elevator running down again, when the elevator doors slide open, there's a minorly sizable crowd outside, people stare at the doors, a bit miffed at the wait as the two of you walk out of the elevator and get to the pit, hand and hand.

#grey's fanfic #andrew deluca fanfic #andrew deluca imagine #andrew deluca #andrew deluca x reader #greys abc #greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

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k9rage · 2 years

Text

Stress Relief

Gavin/Damien, 4k, Explicit

Tags: Light bondage, blindfolds, wax play, temperature play, massages, unusual antidotes for stress from your local incubus, oral sex, aftercare, PWP

Call that lighting a fire under his ass

Or: some school stress relief with our resident incubus and his fiery friend

Ao3 link

"Gavin, come on. Be serious- sex isn't going to help with my stress over finals."

The incubus hums in quiet disagreement, shrugging in that faux disinterested way he often does, "You'd be surprised." He leans in to stroke fingertips across Damien's jawline, "but if you don't want to try it…"

"I didn't say that," Damien snaps in reply, frowning.

"Oho, I felt that temperature spike. Do you find the idea… exhilarating, Damien?"

The fire elemental shivers, temperature spiking and dampening after several moments. "You should already know, you can feel my emotions."

Gavin smirks slightly at the characteristic reply. "Oh believe me, wildfire," he purrs out, "I am definitely feeling those. All that excitement, the desire… it's a very good combination for you."

Damien's gaze flicks to the side and he finally nods in agreement. "We can try it," he offers finally, "but I make no promises about if I'll like it or not. If it doesn't work to take my mind off of school at least I can say we tried something new instead of just watching me burn myself into the ground like last year."

The incubus huff a breathless laugh at the memory of everyone running around like headless chickens around finals last year. Thankfully this year isn't as busy with Lasko teaching and Huxley taking less courses than usual. "Can't say I'll ever turn down a chance to… experiment with you, Damien."

The elemental just grumbles and Gavin feels incredibly excited to work out the near ever present knots in his tense shoulders for once.

Gavin is lucky to already have the supplies they need for waxplay on hand, though maybe luck isn't the right word considering he is an incubus. It's sort of a tool of the trade, as it were, albeit a more unusual one.

It's easy to bring what he needs in his overnight bag along with several other items he suspects they might end up using that night.

Say what people will about incubi, but they're quite single-minded when it comes to making people feel pleasure, and Gavin is very committed to getting Damien to relax a little.

The fire elemental is so tense when he hugs him that Gavin's shoulders ache in sympathy and he lets the hug last a few moments longer than strictly necessary. "How's my favorite spitfire?"

Damien just winces. "That obvious?"

"Oh, Damien. Even someone unempowered can see how stressed you are," Gavin replies, kissing his cheek in greeting, "but never fear, we have the entire night to fix that."

The fire elemental doesn't react besides a clench in his jaw, but the little taste of desire in his core reaffirms his decision. "You have a place you want to set up for this?" he asks. "I'd suggest a bed but the sheets might get… messy."

The incubus laughs breathily, unable to help himself as he watches Damien's face turn almost shy, "oh, you've got something in mind, haven't you?"

"I put down a sheet protector on the bed," he grits out, "did you bring everything?"

"Ah, ah," Gavin chides, slim fingers nudging Damien's face in his direction, "there's no need to hurry so much, wildfire. Unless you're too… excited to wait?"

Damien's skin is incredibly warm to the touch, and pulling him in for a kiss feels almost all consuming. Hot like a furnace against his front and warm hands grasping at the back of his shirt to press him even closer while the fire elemental's tongue presses at the seam of his lips.

Gavin finds he's unsurprised that Damien is a bit overeager given his habit of putting studying first, and gently coaxes his partner to soften and slow the kiss down until they're tangled together in the entryway with Gavin shoved against the wall and Damien all but moaning into his mouth with the sweetest burst of pleasure in his core.

It's a good start to the evening, especially so when Damien mouths almost too hot kisses down the tan skin of his neck, teeth leaving little marks there that make the incubus sigh sweetly.

"Damien," he breathes, tapping his shoulder with one hand until he pulls back with concern etched across his face.

"Is this too weird? I know you said it was fine, but you're with the Freelancer, if this is uncomfortable then-"

Gavin shakes his head, stroking a hand over Damien's jawline. "No, wildfire, I'm alright. More than alright," he laughs, "just thinking we should move out of the entryway before we start humping each other. Not that I'd mind of course but exhibitionism seems more Freelancer’s speed than yours."

The fire elemental flushes as if the fact they were in his entryway had escaped his mind until now, and quickly shuts his front door with a myriad of excited and embarrassed emotions curling in his aura. They warm on Gavin's tongue like the chili pepper flakes he likes.

When he licks his lips he tastes Damien's chapstick.

"So, my fiery friend," Gavin grins, "you remember the safewords we discussed for this?"

"I remember."

"Say them for me," the incubus says, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Damien sighs, put upon. "Shade for stop and orange for pause. Green to keep going."

"Oh, being so good already," the incubus teases, leaning in for a brief kiss. "Use them if you want or need to, it won't ruin things. I can feel your emotions but I'm still not a telepath."

The fire elemental nods and the two of them make their way into his bedroom after knocking Gavin's shoulder against the doorframe on account of the incubus being too focused on mouthing hickeys into Damien's skin.

Damien's legs hit the edge of the bed and Gavin presses him down into the sheets, lips trailing kisses down the side of his neck.

"Lay down on your front for me," he purrs, stroking down his side. "Clothes off, wildfire."

Damien sighs happily and wiggles up to slide his shirt off. The cold hair makes his nipples pebble and he shivers as he shucks his pants off before laying down with a little shift of his hips.

"Hips up," Gavin prompts, sliding a pillow under his hips and squeezing his ass, "still okay?"

"Fine," Damien replies tersely, "I trust you, Gavin. I'll tell you if I hate it."

The incubus laughs breathlessly, sliding his hands over Damien's warm sides to feel him shiver, "I know you will. Hands up for me, Damien."

His hands lift and Gavin hums, "that's it," he says, magic curling out of his core to form silky little cuffs around his wrists. He checks the tightness and clips them to each side of his four poster. "Comfortable?" He asks, rubbing at his wrists.

Damien tugs at them carefully then nods slightly, lips curled up slightly.

Gavin’s mouth seals against the side of his neck, sucking a hickey into the skin there and making the fire elemental shift his hips slightly, hands flexing. "So good, Damien," he murmurs out, "close those beautiful eyes for me.

His eyes slide shut after a brief pause and Gavin slips a soft blindfold over his eyes. He looks gorgeous like this, naked with his ass up and big arms contained by flimsy little silk ties.

His back has several small freckles and Gavin mouths a trail over each of them down to his ass, squeezing it in his hands. Damien groans, hips pressing down into his pillows.

"Gavin-" he breathes out, shoulders bunching up when he tenses up.

"Oh I know," Gavin coos out, "You're already aching for it, I can feel that desire. Just relax, I'll get you there."

He lights the lotion candle and breathes it in, the smell of vanilla already permeating the room. The light is low and warm while Gavin strokes over his sides and mouths kisses at his neck.

"Vanilla?" He asks questioningly, sighing at the gentle stroke of Gavin's nails over his sides.

"Figured it was the least obtrusive option," Gavin replies, gliding his fingertips over the length of Damien's spine languidly. His slow touches earn a frown of annoyance from the elemental, though he doesn't say anything- not yet, anyway.

Gavin spends a good ten minutes stroking his fingers over Damien's back, carefully massaging at the shoulders then flitting away to dip down his sides or over the softness of his ass. By the time the candle has melted enough, Damien's initial irritation has softened to flickers of begrudging enjoyment with the soft caresses over his body.

Damien isn't exactly the massage type, but when he's got Gavin's weight pinning him down by the hips and a blindfold keeping him from really being able to focus on the object of his annoyance, he gradually seems to melt into the soft sheets until his arms are slack against the sheets instead of tugging at the silk around his wrists.

"Damien," the incubus murmurs against the shell of his ear. He's unable to help the breathless sounding laughter that bubbles out of him at the soft hum Damien replies with, unused to seeing him so pliable.

It's probably good, considering what they're about to do.

"You still want to keep going? If you don't I can keep stroking your back… or stroking something else."

Desire fizzles on his tongue like his favorite soft drink, and Damien nods slightly against the pillows. It dislodges the blindfold a bit and both of them laugh as Gavin carefully fixes it again and brushes hair out of his face.

"I want what you promised me, Gavin. You know that."

Gavin strokes softly down his spine, digging his thumbs in on each side until Damien groans, low with enjoyment and annoyance in equal measure.

"Sometime in the next year might be nice," he gripes, and the incubus laughs, kissing the nape of his neck, "you're not getting me to beg, if that's what you're looking for."

He sweeps one hand low on Damien's stomach and presses him into the mattress. "No, princess. I know what you're like, and besides, that's not what tonight is about." A pause, then, "I'll start higher up, it gives the wax more time to cool before it hits your body. If you don't like it let me know."

Damien makes an agreeable noise, and Gavin picks up the warm candle. It smells of vanilla and even Gavin can admit it's appealing. He's done this before with a few people, though he admits he has a preference to not be on the receiving end as often. It still holds an appeal though, especially the prospect of Damien pulling at the ties anytime he drips a bit of the wax onto his back.

The incubus presses his hand down on Damien's back a bit harder and tilts the candle, watching the wax drip down the side then onto the elemental's shoulder blade. Predictably, it earns an instinctive jerk and tug on the ties on his wrists along with a sharp inhale.

"Okay?" He checks, sliding his hand up to rub the wax into Damien's stiff shoulder blade.

"It's-" the elemental chews his bottom lip, "weird," he settles on finally, frowning. "It doesn't feel as hot as I expected it would be."

The incubus hums, going back to resting his hand on his lower back. "You're a fire elemental, you probably handle heat better than most people do. We could test that theory if you want?" He teases.

Damien sighs, faux put-upon, "Just drip the wax on me, Gavin."

"Oh, you know I live to serve," he purrs teasingly.

He tips the candle enough for several drops to hit Damien's skin again in quick succession, watching the proud fire elemental's breathing go sharp in surprise at the unanticipated sensation of heat over his skin. He can already tell Damien likes this, in spite of his attitude, because his emotions swirl in a heady mix of lust, calm, and anticipation that Gavin could feast on for weeks.

Damien shifts his hips impatiently when Gavin doesn't immediately drip more wax over his shoulders, and he can't help but smile. He's glad he was right that this would make him feel more relaxed, considering how tightly wound Damien gets around finals.

"Relax, Damien. I'm picking the pace- just let go and let me take care of things for a while." That earns him a huff of annoyance, but Damien relaxes into the sheets enough that Gavin feels comfortable to drip more wax over his skin.

It makes his hands ball up into fists and his muscles twitch under his skin, breath going choppy any time wax hits his skin.

It turns into a bit of a rhythm for a while. Drip the wax, watch Damien's body squirm beneath him, wait until he's just relaxed into the sheets and not expecting it anymore until he repeats the cycle. Damien is all but humping the pillow under his hips by the end of it, slick massage oil like wax already dripping down his sides and onto the sheet protector.

And fuck, is Damien beautiful like this.

He's finally relaxed almost completely, muscles loose and his face slack against the pillows. He's still squirming with every drip of wax, but is out of his own head enough that he isn't self-conscious about the loud way he moans when Gavin's nails scrape gently up his side.

Gavin pauses to breathe praise against the shell of his ear, feeling Damien's body shiver beneath his. He pulls back and rubs over one shoulder sympathetically.

"You're gone, aren't you, wildfire?" He coos sweetly. He only gets a bleary moan of agreement, low and breathy and unbelievably sweet.

"I told you I'd get you there, Damien."

He drips wax in a slow path down his spine, feeling Damien's hips twitch beneath him and watching his muscles go taut then relax into the sensation.

Finally he sets the candle aside, bright eyes drinking in the fire elemental grinding himself against the sheets with his mouth half open and the blindfold over his eyes just barely still in place.

He looks good like this, uninhibited and so focused on the sensations that he isn't thinking 10 miles a minute like always.

Damien doesn't seem to register the change at all, still lazily grinding his hips down against the pillow under his hips and shivering every so often.

The incubus tastes the hazy warmth of pleasure on his tongue and picks up the candle again to smattering wax over his hips.

It makes his thighs go tense and his breath pick up, almost whining when the heat of melted wax drips down closer to his tailbone.

"Still with me, Damien?" He asks, murmuring softly so he doesn't startle him.

Damien sighs happily, wiggling beneath him but not answering. He's probably high on the endorphins and Gavin is loath to ruin that just for an answer. Some people lose speech for a bit, and he can work around it just fine.

"You've done so well for me," he promises, trailing teasing fingertips up his back to watch Damien shiver and jerk beneath him. Oversensitive already and so gorgeous when he's let go like this.

"Just a little bit more then we're done, wildfire," he promises, fingers slicked with the lotion candle wax dragging a path down to squeeze his ass.

Gavin carefully drips the last bits of wax over the soft skin of his ass, holding his hips down with one hand while his legs kick out in surprise and he jerks beneath him.

"Shhh, sh. It's alright," Gavin promises, "we're done. You did so well for me, took everything so well. We're all done now, just relax."

He blows out the candle and presses a kiss to a patch of Damien's skin that he hasn't covered in candle wax. "So good, wildfire. Just relax now, I'll hold you here," Gavin murmurs, slick hands slowly spreading the warmed wax until all of Damien's back is shiny with oil.

Damien hums, aura all hazy and warm with contentment. If he was an inchoate, he could be sated on this for weeks.

Gavin gently works his thumbs into the knots at Damien's shoulders until he's soft as putty against the sheets, face slack and soft with contentment. The arousal is still there, but it's dulled by how good the endorphins feel, and it makes the incubus smile.

A job well done, making their resident tight ass finally relax enough that his shoulders don't feel like steel.

He kisses a trail down Damien's spine, slick hands spreading his ass once he reaches the tailbone and thumbs sweeping between his cheeks. It makes him jerk in surprise, hips arching up the slightest bit, and Gavin grins.

He slows his kisses, trailing down from the tailbone until he's gotten so slow that Damien groans in annoyance. Gavin laughs breathlessly and finally presses his tongue to Damien's hole, already slick with the candle wax oil.

Damien makes a little noise, adjusting his knees to push his hips up encouragingly. Gavin slides his arms beneath his hips and hikes his hips up enough to press his mouth more firmly between his legs.

He pushes his tongue in just barely, teasing, and the fire elemental trembles beneath him. Damien is relaxed enough to make it easy to press his tongue in deep, fucking him on his tongue until Damien's toes curl and he makes a guttural noise of pleasure deep in his chest.

"Fuck-" Damien chokes out.

Gavin pulls away, earning a soft noise of disagreement until his hands slide over Damien's back massaging the oil into his muscles. "There you are," he laughs, "how're you feeling?"

Damien's shoulders melt when Gavin's skilled hands stroke up his spine and he sighs, putty in his hands.

"Good."

"Did so well for me," Gavin praises, rubbing up the sides of his neck then back down his shoulders. "Want to come tonight, wildfire?"

Damien turns his head enough to frown in Gavin's direction, though the effect is lessened noticeably by the fact his glaring eyes are coveted by a blindfold.

"Obviously," he replies.

Gavin just hums, stroking his palms across Damien's oily sides and down his lower back, "No need to get snippy, princess. I'm an incubus of my word. I'll get you there."

Damien huffs but settles down again, letting Gavin rub at his back until he feels nearly boneless beneath the incubus.

"Shhh," he hushes, soft. "You know I'll take care of your needs. And mine," Gavin smiles in amusement.

"Besides," Gavin continues, "it would be such a shame to neglect a cock like that."

Gavin's slick hand wraps around his cock and Damien's hips shift back into it with a low sigh. All of his movements have gone lazy with relaxation, slower and less perfectly coordinated than usual.

"Rutting into my hand like this… I'd think you want me to make even more of a mess of your sheets," the incubus purrs.

Damien's legs spread the tiniest bit further in an effort to get more friction while Gavin slowly jerks him off, twisting his hand on his cock and occasionally pulling back enough to fondle his balls.

The lotion oil from the candle wax he'd dripped makes the slide nearly perfect, slick and wet and silky tight when Damien rocks into his hand with a broken off groan.

He thumbs over the tip, precum making the already easy slide of his hand sound slick, lewd noises making Damien's ears feel hot. "Listen to how much of a mess you're making for me, Damien," the incubus breathes, clearly pleased.

The elemental's hands ball up and he moans into the pillows, hips rutting down into Gavin's hand around him until his pretty thighs are trembling.

"I can tell how close you are for me, princess," Gavin says, dragging his free hand down Damien's tailbone to rub his thumb against the tightness of his entrance. "Just let go of that control, let me hold it for a while. I'll take good care of you," he promises.

Damien chokes out a noise like a sob, thighs pressing against his hips in protest to all the sensations at once. His breathing has gone sharp and erratic but his hips remain uncoordinated in his relaxed state which means he really can't get there until he lets go.

Gavin presses the very tip of his thumb into Damien's entrance and watches his body lock up while he finally tips over the edge, mouth open and thighs shaking hard.

He makes a mess that Gavin positively delights in licking off his fingertips while Damien shivers through the aftershocks. He strokes slowly over the elemental's side, quietly grounding him while he murmurs soft praises that he's positive aren't registering yet.

"So good, letting go like that when I asked… you've done an amazing job tonight. You were an amazing submissive, I'm very proud of you," Gavin admits, kissing Damien's oily shoulder.

He gets a low, fucked out noise that sounds incredibly pleased, and it makes him smile just a little.

Gavin quietly cleans off the oil the best he can with a warm, wet cloth he's used magic to create. Thank every god for magic, honestly, because the clean up is so much easier.

Damien shivers beneath him and the incubus presses a smattering of kisses down his side, feather-light. "We're alright, Damien. You were beautiful for me, letting go of control for a while like that."

The incubus gently thumbs the edge of the blindfold, hesitating for a moment.

"Want this off yet?"

Damien shakes his head no and Gavin hums in acknowledgement, kissing the leather covering his eyes, "Later, then. Just rest."

"Mmh," Damien replies, melting into the sheets while Gavin rubs at his back. He leans up enough to untie the silk around the elemental's wrists, fingertips massaging at Damien's wrists.

"You did beautifully, Damien," he reassures.

The elemental shudders beneath him at the feeling of a warm washcloth wiping away the oil of the lotion candle on his back. Gavin doesn't doubt that he's incredibly sensitive right now, and keeps it very gentle while he wipes away the mess from today over his back.

"I know, you're so very sensitive now. I'll be careful," Gavin promises, gently wiping down his sides and over his lower back. It earns a shaky whine, clearly sensitive, and he pauses for a moment to stroke over his back until he's relaxed again.

It takes a bit more care to wipe down his ass and thighs, pausing often and being incredibly gentle. Gavin is finally satisfied and peppers Damien's back in light kisses, pressing his chest to his back until Damien sighs out happily at the pressure.

"Can you tell me how you're feeling yet, princess?"

Damien makes a soft, happy noise, body lax and soft beneath him. "Mmm… good. Relaxed. Sensitive."

Gavin chuckles against the elemental's shoulder, satisfied. Damien is still floating a little bit and he doesn't mind carefully bringing him back to earth again.

"Anything hurt?"

"No," Damien replies, soft.

Gavin kisses gently over his neck and rubs his hands over Damien's sides until Damien shivers. "Going to move us now," he warns, "turning you over so we can rest a bit."

He shifts the two of them, carefully holding Damien and moving the two of them until they're spooned together with Damien's back to his chest. Gavin is still achingly hard but tonight isn't about him, and he doesn't mind going without it. He's already gotten what he needed just from watching Damien relax for him like this anyways.

"Good?"

Damien hums in quiet agreement, giving a happy sigh when Gavin's arms slide tight around him. He shifts just enough so his head is under Gavin's chin, curled up in a ball against his chest.

The two of them cuddle like that for maybe an hour, maybe more, before Gavin feels Damien's breathing go soft and deep. He's asleep, blindfold still over his eyes and back still slightly oily from the waxplay.

Gavin smiles with a job well done and holds him in close after sliding the blindfold off. They'll have plenty to talk about in the morning but for now he lets himself follow Damien into the realm of sleep with the smell of vanilla all around them.

#redacted asmr #calicos fics #mdni #nsft #redacted gavin #redacted damien #woe fic be upon ye !!!!

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mccnstruck · 1 year

Text

i'm always myself in your arms

summary: you come out as transmasc

characters: akito shinonome

tags: headcanons format, ftm transmasc, neutral pronouns, hurt/comfort, ooc? established relationship, mentions of feminine traits, vent

authors note: um my first project sekai work is really self-indulgent and only headcanon format because i am not living laughing loving right now !!

- when he hears sniffing inside your bathroom, he knocks three times to let you know it's only just him. when he only hears silence, he knocks three times again.

- silence, once more.

- "idiot, c'mon. i can't wait here the whole day, y'know?"

- a small, choked whisper comes out of you.

- "just go then."

- akito's eyes widen and he is left speechless. what happened, and who took the smile off of your face?

- he hesitantly puts his hand on the doorknob and leans his forehead on the cold door.

- he takes a deep breath. "i'll be here until you're ready."

- the silence between both of you stays for a few minutes before a small click! is heard. he slowly opens the door to see you staring into the mirror, hands clenching the counter as you avoid his gaze.

- with hesitance, he walks up to you and gently pulls your hands from gripping onto the bathroom sink.

- he pulls you into a hug and wraps his arms around your back. he hides his face into the crook of your neck and you feel the ticklish sensation of his hair on your neck.

- "what happened?"

- your hands start shaking and the tears brought forth once again.

- " 'kito, i...i can't. you're gonna hate me. you're gonna hate me, i can't, i can't-"

- akito looks back up at your panicked expression and holds your hands.

- "[name]. [name], listen. unless you harmed anyone else or broke our relationship, i'm not gonna hate you. if you made a mistake, we'll figure it out. i'm not gonna hate you. i could never."

- you grit your teeth together and try to hide the tears falling. akito lets go of one of your hands to cup your face, letting his thumb slide over the tear stains on your face.

- he speaks in a much gentler, softer, tone. "now tell me. what's wrong? did someone hurt you?"

- his hand still on your face, you look away from him and take a deep breath.

- "akito."

- "i'm listening."

- a long silence.

- "i'm not... i'm trans. like, girl to boy."

- silence. you might as well get this done with, you think.

- "i've always felt very uncomfortable with my body, and i never knew why? um, and i only connected the dots a few days, and um. i don't like how feminine i feel."

- silence. no word from him.

- you voices quivers and hesitates. "if you don't feel like being with me anymore, i'll try to understand-"

- you feel a slow, gentle kiss to your head.

- "give me a moment to collect my words, stop beating yourself up before i say anything."

- he looks at you again and squeezes your hand. the hand on your face remains soft on your face. a reminder that, no, he isnt gone.

- and he won't be for as long as you let him.

- "i don't hate you at all. in fact, i'm proud of you. not everyone is truly committed to being the best of themselves, and if being a guy makes you more connected to yourself, i don't see a reason why i would stop you."

- he leans his forehead onto yours and you both close your eyes.

- "you really think being yourself is gonna stop you from being my idiot?"

- he pulls out his phone and looks at the time.

- "we still have a bit to go to the mall. or, we could go to my workplace. i know plenty of good quality stuff over there. have you thought of a name? i know people change that, but it's cool if you didn't. you might wanna let the teachers know if you're comfortable too."

- when he feels your head land on his shoulder and hears the sobs of relief come with, he wraps you in another hug and rocks you both from side to side.

- "i'm so proud of you, my prince."

- you would be ok.

#akito x reader #akito shinonome x reader #akito shinonome #shinonome akito x reader #project sekai x reader #pjsekai x reader #[ the lost library ]

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notquitecogent · 1 year

Text

Find The Word Tag Game

Ok I am shockingly late to the party on this one because Life™ and my desire to write being at an all-time low, but I've been tagged by 3 lovely people so here we go <3 The Rules: find the suggested words in your WIPs and post snippets, then tag others to do the same with words of your choice!

Tagged by: @astorytotellyourfriends to find lose, tear, accept, and shake. I couldn't find lose or accept in any WIPs, but I did find shake and tear (sort of).

Tear, from a fortune teller WIP, which also involves a costume party. This bit is set at a fair, a prelude to the meet-cute with Chrissy, I guess? (Not really a meet-cute, more a meet-awkward):

Perhaps Eddie would have noticed what was about to happen next if he hadn’t been so busy laughing at his own joke. Instead, he completely missed Carver's pointed nod at two of the jocks, and the four large hands instantly grabbing the back of his jacket.

Shit shit shit.

Years of trailer park muscle memory taught him he had about half a second to shrug off the leather and run for the hills, and he barely had time to yell at the rest of Hellfire to book it too before he was tearing his way through the crowd towards – well, something. Anything.

***

Shake, from an untitled little ditty where Chrissy gets injured at cheer practice and ends up hanging out with Eddie while she's recovering:

“Are you ok, Chris?” Melinda asks, and there’s an ugly, hopeful note in her voice; she’s Chrissy’s alternate, and in the zero-sum game of high school cheerleading, that means she’ll be the one tossed in the air at Regionals two weeks from now.

“Fine,” says Chrissy, through gritted teeth. “It’s just a sprain.”

Everyone’s looking at her as Julie sprints back from Coach’s office, dusty first aid kit in hand.

“The nurse left already, but you should try to keep it elevated,” she says, breathless, and Chrissy kind of has to marvel at the efficiency; Julie Michaels is good in a crisis.

She tries not to shake as Julie eases off her sneaker (scuffed, Christine, look at the state of you) and then her sock, wincing as she presses against a tender muscle.

“It doesn’t look broken, I think,” says the younger girl, chewing her lip.

~~~

Tagged by: @majicmarker to find bright, heart, laugh, and sweet, or any variation of the above.

Bright and sweet from an unfinished sequel/companion to ‘baby i’m yours now (dreaming a connection)’:

Was it just him, or was the sun shining a little brighter, a little warmer that day than was usual for summer in Hawkins, Indiana? Were the birds singing a little sweeter, the flowers blooming a little more colourful? Did everyone else see that day through a gauzy halcyon haze, or was it just the fucking bliss of kissing Chrissy, of holding Chrissy, of being loved by Chrissy that was doing that to him?

~~~

Heart from ‘does it feel like magic?’, my stupid attempt at a magical AU which is going to become a roommate AU (I've realised I only really like writing oneshots that don’t diverge too far from canon, as I *immediately* lose grasp of the character’s voices and motivations and shove in a bunch of thinly drawn OCs and then hate myself). Anyway, this is from chapter 3:

“Look, I’m not saying forever – just until my lease ends and you find a place you actually like.”

Eddie punctuates the sentence by slicing open another bag of ice cubes and clattering them into the tray.

“I won’t like it?”

“Well, the view’s not great, but the rent is high.”

“Really selling it to me.”

She bites her lip as she sets down the paring knife and turns toward him. “What’s my roommate like?”

He grins. “Horrifically messy. Perpetually stoned. Plays terrible music very loud.”

Chrissy pantomimes looking thoughtful, bringing one pink-tipped fingernail up to her lip as she hmmms exaggeratedly.

“Can he cook?”

“Not even slightly."

“Perfect,” she winks, and he feels his heart thud in his chest.

Yeah, this is probably a terrible idea, actually.

~~~

Laugh and sweet from the fortune teller WIP:

She’d tried so hard to be sweet, hoping he’d just drop it and move on. He reminded her of her mother sometimes – of walking on cracked ice.

Jason ruffled her hair. “You’ll have me for that, hon,” and he’d said it so fondly that she’d tried to ignore the sinking feeling that crept under her ribs and stayed there.

~~~

Over her shoulder, the boys were crowing as Jason burst the last balloon and selected his prize – a gold plastic trophy, which he held aloft like a talisman before a group of other high schoolers pushed past him. One of them – a guy with long hair in a leather jacket – said something that made the others burst out laughing and Jason’s face erupt into fury.

Chrissy had never felt less like going to his side.

^^^

Tagged by: @erythromanc3r to find right, laugh, carry and fear. I couldn't find carry or fear.

Right from the fortune teller WIP:

Suddenly, someone flung the drapes open. The strong scent of clove cigarettes followed them in.

“Don’t touch the cards,” said a raspy voice.

Chrissy looked up at the fortune teller ('Madame Le Fay', apparently), taking in a dark head of hair with a livid streak of white at the temple, a pair of bright green eyes lined with kohl, and cracked lips slicked with red lipstick. Her hands were clustered with heavy, tarnished gold rings and tipped with dirty fingernails.

Madame Le Fay looked back, and her gaze seemed to pierce right through Chrissy’s skin.

^^^

Laugh from the sex pollen WIP 😈 :

And, in fact, the weed was definitely living up to its description; her body did feel pleasantly loose, the air thick and heavy against her skin, almost like she’d been dipped in a jar of honey. The air smelled sweeter, too – unlike the usual skunky scent, these joints had a sort of soft, floral-y perfume that seemed to linger in her hair and clothes, mixing with Eddie’s usual tobacco and leather, and that kind of sweat only boys seemed to produce.

She breathed deeply through her nose.

Eddie let out a low, rumbling laugh. “Are you sniffing me, Cunningham?”

Chrissy blushed as her hands flew to her face, giggling through splayed fingers. “You smell nice."

I'm tagging: @chrissy-n-eddie @thedarkestgreys @carry-the-sky @a-strange-inkling (not sure if you've been tagged already?? I'm so bad at keeping track of these things! feel free to ignore if so) to find shoulder, night, twist and sound.

#my fic #tag games #wip game #hellcheer fic

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ready-steady-freddie · 2 years

Text

Beyond (Part two)

Robert Bob Floyd x original female character

Warnings: None, really. Mentions of alcohol, death and sex.

Word count: 3,1K

Notes: I love how we all have different versions of Bob and the rest of the crew. This is my version. Hope y'all enjoy. Let me know what you think.

This isn't beta'ed. But I am interested in beta readers, so send me a message if you'd like to help a fellow Boboholic out.

PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

"And you're sure he said Friday at 7pm?"

"Yes," Lily said through gritted teeth, "For the tenth time."

"I just don't see him anywhere." Kate eyed her sister, pulled back her shoulders a little and straightened her back. "Did he, uh .. did he mention anything about anyone joining him, or …?"

"What?" Lily sent her a look of pursed lips and furrowed brows. Her confused expression then disappeared as her face moved into a grin and she exclaimed loudly, "Holy shit, you've got the hots for that guy with the glasses!"

"His name is Bob and-"

"Yes!" Lily laughed even louder. "You want to bone Bob, don't you? Now all of this makes sense!"

Lily gestured at the fairly nice outfit Kate had put on this evening, the new hairstyle she had tried out and the dab of lavender oil behind her ear. Kate's entire chest, neck and face flushed with embarrassment, and she motioned for Lily to shut up, a wild expression in her own eyes, dragging her outside the bar again.

Lily punched Kate's arm lightly with every word she spoke next, "Why didn't you tell me?!"

Kate threw her hands in the air in pure exasperation and groaned. "I don't even know the guy. I just thought it'd be nice to get to know him better, that's all. He seemed kind."

"Well, you should have told me because then I definitely wouldn't have kept it secret that he came to the gym yesterday and asked about you."

"He did what?" Something unfamiliar pooled in Kate's stomach. He had shown interest in Kate and actually bothered to find her sister and ask her questions. Kate's heart soared a little bit at that.

Lily looked at her out of the corner of her eyes and smirked. "You heard me. And may I just add that he is not that nerdy looking when he is working out. Damn. Oh, there's Jake. See you later, sis."

And just like that, Lily walked up to Jake as coolly as she could, the tiny bounce in her step betraying her excitement. Jake greeted her with a fantastic heart-stopping smile and a kiss on the cheek. Jake sent Kate a nod and smile. Kate returned the acknowledgment with a wave.

Kate sighed. She dreaded being alone at a place full of people she did not know. She was going to need some liquid courage if she were to stay more than a few minutes. Of course, she had not promised Lily that she would stay all night and since Lily seemed rather preoccupied in conversation with Jake, Kate knew she would not be missed.

Now, there was the unanswered question in Kate's head that needed answering. Would she meet Bob here tonight? She had had no contact with him since their last visit to The Hard Deck - but he had taken up many of her thoughts in the week that had passed. Wondered about his life in the navy and his past. Made up plausible and implausible stories about him. And gosh darn it if she had not thought about what he looked like under his uniform in the late hours of the night. If she left now, she would have missed a perfect opportunity to see him again.

Kate went to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. No colourful drinks tonight. She needed to seem a tad more classy than last Friday. She started overthinking it. Was it too much at the same time? With the clothes, the hair and the scent? Who was she even trying to fool? She was not a classy person.

Trying to drink her way out of her anxiousness, Kate managed to finish two and half gin and tonics in twenty minutes before she spotted Bob at the bar. He was not in uniform tonight but dressed casually in a button-down shirt, dog tags just visible beneath the light blue fabric, chinos and desert boots. Kate enjoyed what she saw. And then she panicked. What now? She suddenly realised she did not have a plan. She had seen him; he had not seen her yet. Should she approach him? Wait for him to come to her to see if he really was interested in her? Did playing hard to get ever really work for anyone? And if it did, would she even want to play hard to get?

"Kate. Hey." Before she knew of it, Bob stood in front of her, one hand holding a glass, the other in his pocket.

She gazed up at him, returning the slight smile he was giving her. "Hi."

"You’re here."

"I wanted to see y- I can't very well let her go out on her own. She'll get into trouble." Kate nodded in the direction of Lily and Jake. They stood impossibly close in some dark corner near the jukebox and Kate could not tell if they were dancing or making out. “Oh. Looks like she’s doing perfectly fine with and without me.”

“Mmh, yeah, Hangman will do that to you,” Bob mused. He looked back at Kate, eyeing her with a slight smile. “One of his many talents.”

Kate downed the last of her drink and had to steady herself on a wooden beam as the alcohol coursed through her and went straight to her head. “And your talents, Bob, what are they?”

He grinned, stunned and intrigued. “They are not to be explained, but experienced.”

“Oh. Is that so.” She stared down at the empty glass in her hand. So much for pretending to be classy. She had already thrown herself out in the deep end, might as well keep going. At least drunk Kate got stuff done instead of just worrying about doing it. “Will you join me at the bar?”

Bob gestured with an open hand to the bar and followed close behind her. She hoped Bob had noticed just a hint of her efforts to look nice tonight. Kate paid no attention to the rest of the place as they reached the bar and Bob ordered drinks. She noticed the way his blue eyes scanned the room every few moments and the way the fabric of his shirt stretched around his upper arm when he moved around. Lily was probably right. No matter your position you had to be fit to be in the navy and Kate briefly wondered what it would feel like to be held in his embrace.

"It's on me,” Bob said as he slid her a fresh gin and tonic.

"That's very generous of you."

"Cheers." They clinked glasses and drank.

Kate nodded to his glass of water. "Designated driver again tonight?"

Bob chuckled. "No, I'm not driving anyone home tonight. I just don't feel like drinking alcohol. It makes me even more self-conscious than I already am, and no one needs that."

"I respect that." A patron pushed their way to the bar next to Kate, causing her to stumble into Bob. He steadied her with a hand on the small of her back.

"Are you alright?" She nodded, enjoying the fire his hand alighted on her skin beneath the thin fabric of her dress. "There's an empty table over there, if you want to join me?"

He guided her expertly through the throngs of people in the bar, his warm hand still on her back. He pulled out her chair and helped her push it in as she sat down. Kate's mind buzzed with how observant and gentle he was. He smiled as he took the seat opposite hers.

"Bob, tell me about life in the navy. What's it like?"

Smile still on his face, he took off his glasses and ran a hand over his face. Kate saw him much better now without the glasses to distract from his handsome face. Glasses back on, he sighed happily. "It's fun. It's intense, it's rushes of adrenaline, it's a feeling of making a difference. I love it."

He trailed off and something almost sad fell over his face. He looked away briefly before returning to her eyes with an earnest expression. "It's, uh … it's loneliness."

Kate nodded almost unnoticeable. "I can imagine it's difficult to uphold normal relationships, especially with people who aren't in the navy."

"It's near impossible, perhaps even more so with other naval officers. That's why so many of us are single. It's impossible to know where your next mission is and for how long. Take Rooster, for example. A week ago, he didn't know he would be in the Middle East today."

Kate breathed deeply. "You don't have a family?"

"No. Right now I can't offer a potential partner any stability other than a good, steady income and free healthcare. I can't even offer them a place to live that isn't on a base." He laughed a little. "I'm not trying to sell myself, by the way."

"You had me fooled," Kate grinned.

"The prospect of being in a long term relationship with someone who is away for maybe six out of twelve months and who may just .. Never come home again .. That is hard for most civilians to deal with."

"But it can be done." Kate smiled a little.

Bob nodded. "I think once I'm ready to settle down I'll apply for a permanent position on an air station. Maybe work as an instructor once I've got this whole "I need to save the entire world" thing out of my system."

"What will come first? The need to settle down or the partner?"

"Time will tell." Bob looked her up and down again and Kate suddenly felt very vulnerable under his gaze. "Your hair looks very pretty. You- you look very pretty."

Cue the instant flushing of her skin. Kate had to take another sip of her drink. "You noticed."

"It's my job to notice the little things." His gaze felt even more intense now. His voice lowered, suddenly husky and with a slight southern drawl, the tips of his fingers languidly touching hers. "You didn't do all of this just for me, did you?"

Every feeling in Kate's body went straight to her stomach and the core between her legs. The effect this man had on her … She tried to play it cool, even if her entire body was in an uproar.

"Time will tell," she replied with the tiniest of smirks on her lips. Her entire face fell as she looked out of the window and saw Lily getting into a jeep with Jake and leaving the area. "Hm. There goes my ride home."

Bob looked at her with pity but could also hardly keep from laughing a little. "Do you not have a driver's license?"

"I do, I do. But the only set of car keys is in her purse. Which is in her hand and currently speeding away."

Kate laughed at the absurdity of the situation and took another sip of her drink to take her mind off how on earth she was going to get home. Taxi was the obvious answer, she simply did not feel comfortable being alone in one of those.

"Hey, let me drive you home,” Bob offered.

Kate shook her head. "Bob, no. I couldn't possibly- it's quite far from here."

"It's okay. I don’t have any other plans."

"I-"

"I want to. I insist." His fingertips touched hers again. He made it seem like it was by accident, but he did not move them away when she glanced down at their hands.

“Okay. Thank you.”

"Do you want to go now, or ..?" He moved to get up from his seat. Kate grabbed his hand to make him stay.

"My sister just brought a guy back to our apartment. Only if I were both deaf and blind would I want to go back home right now."

"Fair point," Bob laughed, sitting back down. "Not that I'm complaining about you staying a bit longer."

Kate felt the now familiar blushing and tingling sensation spread to her lower body. She suddenly found herself unable to breathe properly. “Uhm, I think I need some fresh air.”

She all but bolted out of the bar and into the warm summer evening, leaving Bob bewildered. She really needed to cool down. She downed the rest of the bitter liquid and ventured down to the ocean. She took off her shoes and let the cold water wash over her feet. She turned to see Bob standing on the porch of the bar, observing her with a hand on his forehead to shield his eyes from the harsh evening sun. She returned to the bar and to Bob, shoes still in her hand.

"I am so sorry for what happened in there. I don't know what came over me." She tried laughing it off as she sat down on a bench, Bob tentatively joining her, sitting at the far side of the bench from her.

"You had me worried there. Did I- was it something I said?" His facial expression was indeed one of worry.

"It wasn't. It's not you, it's me." Kate reached over to grab his hand. He put his other hand on top of hers and smiled wryly. "I- I get scared when people are nice to me."

"Why?"

"I've been in bad relationships. I've trusted fools and been let down." Kate did not dare look at Bob. She was afraid she might break under his honest and gentle gaze. She had not thought about her heartbreaks in a long time now and she felt like an idiot for reacting this way when all Bob had done was be kind to her. She had started playing this game with him and now she was afraid to keep playing? That was not fair on him. This had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her.

"I know how that feels," Bob replied quietly. She almost did not hear him over the crashes of waves hitting the beach.

"I'm sorry." Kate gently laced her fingers through his. He squeezed her hand softly and they sat in silence for a long time as the evening sky turned from blue to purple to black.

Bob was the first to speak. "How about that ride home? It's getting late."

Kate nodded. Fingers still entangled, Bob led her to a truck parked close to the bar.

"Another navy perk. Cars at our disposal, any time of day." He opened the door, guided her inside and closed it behind her. The car came to life as soon as he turned on the ignition, the radio automatically belting out rock tunes.

Kate gave him her address and observed him as he drummed his way through San Diego and every song that was played on the radio. She smiled at his enthusiasm. "Do you know how to play the drums?"

He cleared his throat, clearly caught off guard by her question and he stopped drumming on the steering wheel. "I haven't played in ages. Navy life doesn't really match up with lugging a drum set around."

"That's a shame. You look happy when you're drumming."

"It used to make me happy." He paused. "Well, maybe not exactly happy. But it made me feel something, at least."

"What do you mean?"

He glanced at her, unsure of how much he wanted to tell Kate. But as she looked at him with big, sincere eyes, he replied, "I was an angry kid. My parents died when I was young, so I was brought up by my grandma and grandpa. But I didn't really understand why. So I was angry. My drum set helped me let out some of my frustrations."

Kate swallowed hard. She had not expected a response like that from him. She turned a little in her seat and put a hand on his thigh. He did not react to this. "I'm so sorry you lost your parents. That must have been and still be very painful for you. Thank you for telling me. How did they die, if I may ask?"

Voice heavy but no emotion otherwise betraying him, he replied, “Car accident.”

“And your grandpa you told me about, is he the one who brought you up?”

Bob merely nodded in response. He pulled up along the kerb outside Kate's apartment building. "Is this the right place?"

"Yes, thanks," she sighed. She decided not to push the matter of his family any further. "I hope once I find a job I can contribute a bit to the household income, and we can find a nicer place to live. But it's okay for now."

She stepped out of the vehicle, Bob quickly coming to her side. Kate pointed to a window where the light was still on. It was slightly open and they could both hear moans and groans coming from that room. They giggled and walked to the front door.

As Kate unlocked the door, Bob stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes darting around, looking everywhere but at Kate.

"Bob, thank you so much for driving me home. I know it's waaay out of your way and I don't really know how to make it up to you."

Bob felt his palms getting sweaty, he felt tense and he felt like such a dork for acting this way now. He had been fairly cool and confident - even a little bold - all evening and now this? How he sometimes wished he was Rooster or Hangman. Everything seemed so effortless with them.

"Can I … Can I have your number, please?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, of course," Kate babbled. Her face lit up into a beautiful smile as she wrote her number on a post-it and placed it in his chest pocket.

Bob caught her hand before she pulled away from him. He stepped closer until his chin touched the top of her head and he moved his hands slowly up her arms and shoulders and down her back until they rested right on her shoulder blades. Kate stood still for a few moments, breath hitched in her chest, and then placed her hands in the same place on his body as she relaxed in his arms. She breathed deeply into his chest. The warmth of it sent long forgotten sensations in motion throughout his body. He caught her scent of lavender and hummed satisfied.

"You smell nice," he murmured.

Her fingers grabbed the fabric at the back of his shirt. She whispered his name, expecting it to sound deep and sultry but it came out as more of a whimper. It was all she could do to keep herself from pulling him down and kissing him as warmth pooled in her core.

“Bob, what-“

Bob sighed. "I have to go now, Kate. I will text you."

He did not look back at her once. Kate saw him knock his forehead purposefully against the steering wheel a few times before driving off. Kate, too, knocked her forehead purposefully against the doorframe a few times before entering the building.

PART THREE

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