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magicalbats · 3 days

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Situational Awareness (Dan Heng x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,928

Warnings: afab!reader, some gendered language, shower sex, intercrural sex, thigh fucking

A/N: I've been working here and there on a few different projects (including my long overdue Kinktober pieces, worry not!) but in terms of standalone fics I figured this one was done so I may as well post it. Am I doing so at six in the morning when no one is awake to see it? Absolutely. lol I'm not a plumber so please don't come at me about the shoddy pipe excuse btw, haha

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The unmistakable evidence of all your fooling around is laying across the floor in the form of hastily dropped, rumpled towels. They’d hit the ground in a disarranged heap after the fall, but were still clean as far as you could tell. Not that you could really ask for more on the off chance that they weren’t considering the fright you’d just given the staff but …

Hanging your head, you make the conscious effort to draw a deep, calming breath and come down from the strange high you’d slipped into. You were sweating rather profusely, you’re a bit surprised to find. What had gotten into you? Hotel devils? Surely that was about as absurd as someone climbing into an oddly inviting but no less strange closet as if they’d been personally summoned into its dark depths by some higher force, and yet that was exactly what you’d done. There must have been something seriously wrong with you.

Perhaps it was the Stellaron inside your body causing problems with the electrical signals in its flesh and blood prison. Or maybe you’d hit your head somewhere along the way and the side effects were only now starting to manifest themselves. Your bet was on the tail end of that showdown with the Doomsday Beast back on the space station.

Either way, you desperately needed to get it together.

Straightening up, you send a wary look at the closet in question. Its doors were still thrust open from where you’d leaped out of its (frustratingly inviting) maw some moments ago and there was no denying the faint tug of invitation you could feel trying to coax you back inside but you refused to heed its call. This wasn’t the time or even really the place. You’d let it get the better of you once and that was already more than enough.

“Relax.” You remind yourself as you inch closer to the closet. Resolutely, you reach out and shut the doors. The compulsion slowly fades to nothing and you’re once again left to your own devices. It comes as a great relief.

A harried sigh escapes you as you bend to retrieve the fallen towels next. Perhaps you should leave a note of apology out for the staff. Who knows what they were saying about you right now, the strange girl who likes to hide in closets and scare the living daylights out of unsuspecting workers. On second thought, though, maybe you should just pretend like nothing at all had even transpired here today. Admitting to your own strange behavior in writing would rob you of any plausible deniability, wouldn’t it?

Turning that over in your head, you carry the small bundle of towels into the attached bathroom. Set them down on the sink and almost walk right back out before realizing that you should probably take a shower before bed. Not only were you covered in a fine sheen of perspiration from your time spent getting all worked up inside the closet but you were also freezing. You hadn’t noticed it when you were still running hot on adrenaline and nerves, but now you were gradually starting to shiver.

Just how long had you been crouched inside the cramped dark like that? You really had no idea, as if that part of your memory were an empty cavernous void. It could have been only a few short minutes for all you could tell, or it could have been an eternity. It was impossible to say.

Pivoting, you reach over the tub and wrench the faucet on. The modestly sized room is instantly consumed by the sound of running water as you step back to shrug out of your jacket and take off your gloves. A moment later you test the temperature with your fingers only to snatch them back with a hiss when you find it still ice cold. That certainly wasn’t going to do.

In total you spend about twenty minutes fiddling with the steel knobs, trying them in this and then that position to no avail. No matter what you did the water never seemed to get any warmer, finally leaving you with no choice but to simply turn the damn thing off. You almost give up right then and there. In fact, you consider it very, very hard.

But what ultimately stops you from crawling into bed with nary another thought to the matter is the shuddering chill that’s fallen over you without any of the fast pumping excitement to keep it at bay. You weren’t just cold in the way curling up with a thick blanket could help with. It felt like you were right on the verge of slipping into hypothermia. The thought of laying awake all night shivering nonstop did not sound like the best start to this Trailblaze expedition so you decide to try your luck next door with March.

She opens up on the third knock, wearing her blue bunny pj’s.

“What are you doing out here at this time of night? I thought you were room service or something!”

“Sorry.” You offer her a weak smile, fighting to stop your teeth from loudly clattering. “I think there’s something wrong with the tub in my room. All I can get to come out is cold water.”

March’s brows take an expeditious trip up to her hairline. “No way, you’re having problems too? I thought it was just me but I didn’t want to be a negative Nelly about it!”

Her arm lashes out like a striking serpent, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you inside.

The door bangs shut with a certain amount of indignation as she turns to look at you, worry flashing across her expression when she takes in the faint shudder making your shoulders bunch up. Standing this close to her, you can see that her hair is damp.

“Were you able to take a shower?”

“Not a very good one! The hot water only lasted for about fifteen minutes before it started to come out freezing cold!” Huffing, she crosses her arms over her chest. “This place sure does look fancy but I’m so not impressed. What kind of operation do they think they’re running here, huh? Belobog is way too cold for them not to have working hot water tanks!”

You consider that for a brief moment. “Maybe that’s the problem? If a bunch of people are trying to bathe at the same time and using up all the hot water - -“

“Then they should’ve thought of that before they opened up a hotel! I mean, come on. That’s just common sense, right? And more importantly what’s up with you? You’ve been shivering non stop since I opened the door.”

Don’t tell her about the closet. Don’t tell her about your exploits inside the closet. Whatever you do, do not tell her about that damned closet.

“I think the chill is just starting to catch up with me.” You tell her, cool as … erm, ice. “I didn’t notice it too much at first but now I can’t stop shaking. I’d really like to take a hot shower.”

“I bet.” She murmurs. Then, with more enthusiasm, “Come on, let’s see if mine wants to work!”

Taking your hand in hers, March guides you over to her attached bathroom where she flips on the overhead lights. You’re impressed to find it’s an almost identical copy of yours, just mirrored. Actually, they looked like they were directly adjacent to one another and situated along the same wall. But would that in turn mean … they were sharing the same series of pipes? No, that couldn’t be. Such an obvious structural design flaw would have surely raised some questions, wouldn’t it?

Your attention thoughtfully drifts towards March as she bends over the side of the tub and smacks the faucet on. A familiar sense of deja vu comes over you when the gurgling sound of running water rushes in to dominate the air but she doesn’t seem to pay it much mind so neither do you. A few seconds pass before she tests the water, clicks her tongue in annoyance and draws her hand back before trying again just another few seconds later. Truthfully March’s impatience had never been quite so glaring as it is right now.

“Well, isn’t that just ridiculous!” She at last scoffs, evidently deeming the whole endeavor futile and turning the faucet off again. “It wouldn’t be such a big deal if this place wasn’t so cold. How is anyone coming in off the street supposed to get a good night’s rest if they can’t even have a warm shower?”

You ponder that question with the same weight and consideration as the last one she’d posed. “Maybe they don’t get many visitors? Just think about it. How many times have we heard now that Belobog is the ‘last bastion of humanity’? They probably don’t get much in the way of tourism.”

Turning, March pins you with an exceedingly strange look. “I don’t think you’re wrong about that but … wouldn’t that mean they’re mostly just keeping this place running for the sake of it? What a waste of resources.” She gives her head a quick shake. “Wait, that’s not important right now. We need to get you warmed up and safely tucked into bed! Do you want me to go down to the lobby with you to check what’s going on?”

“No, that’s okay.” You quickly wave that off, feeling more than just a little self conscious about causing her any trouble. “It’s already getting late and you need your rest for tomorrow. It wouldn’t make sense to waste so much time helping me with this when you could be sleeping instead.”

“Hey, now. The same goes for all three of us. We’re in this together and you’d better not forget that! I don’t mind lending a hand. We are crewmates after all!

“Thank you, really. But I’m sure I can figure something else out.”

“Fine, if you’re sure … but at least stop by Dan Heng’s room and see if he’s in the same boat as us. If not, maybe he’ll let you use his shower tonight?”

“Oh. That’s a good idea.” Consideringly, you start to turn and March follows hot on your heels as you step back out through the doorway. “He went into the room right across from yours, right? Since they’re on opposite sides, maybe I will have better luck.”

“That’s the spirit! See, you just gotta’ keep your spirits high and everything will work out fine in the end. Isn’t that what they call trusting the process?”

Pausing in front of the door, you pivot to look back at her. “I don’t think that particular saying applies here.”

“Oh, whatever. Just go check in with Dan Heng and if he isn’t having any better luck come grab me again, okay? We’ll go down and talk to the receptionist together if we have to!”

You smile, even though you try very hard not to. “Thanks, March. I really appreciate it.”

Her voice follows after you as you open the door to see yourself out, a cheerful parting of ‘good luck!’ following you out into the hall. Of all the warm welcomes you’d been greeted with upon boarding the Express, hers was easily the warmest of them all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to properly repay her for that but you were certainly going to try.

Out in the long carpeted corridor, you take a measly three steps to cross over to the opposite side and rap at the heavy wooden door. Dan Heng surprises you slightly when he opens up at the very first knock, almost like he’d been waiting just within.

“Is something the matter?”

The stark difference in your two companions' greetings makes something warm flicker to life inside your chest. You’d only known them and the rest of the Astral Express crew for a short while now but it was very much in line with what was quickly becoming comforting and familiar to you. March had been proactive and eager to know what you were doing while Dan Heng seemed to have concluded that something must be wrong if you were coming to his room like this. It was oddly reassuring, in a way.

“This is probably going to sound like a strange question but have you taken a shower yet?”

A vague look of confusion flashes across his face and then camps there. He was far from the most animated character you’d met on your journey thus far, but there’s no mistaking the look he levels on you now.

“I haven’t quite gotten around to it yet.” He says slowly. “I was just jotting down some observational notes in my phone to input in the database later. Why?”

“I don’t have any proof to back it up but I think March may have taken all my hot water. Our bathrooms are right next to each other.”

Dan Heng’s expression shifts and settles into a perplexed scowl. “Is that why you’re shaking? You’d think a place like this would understand the importance of resource allocation …” Sighing, he steps to the side. “Come in. We can check it together.”

Feeling the pitter patter of hope skip across your ribcage, you step inside with him. He closes the door and turns the lock in place (paranoid or overly cautious?) before leading you over to the bathroom. None of these hotel rooms are particularly big and the two of you are soon crowding around the porcelain tub together.

A steady turn of his wrist has the water gushing out, the same scene playing out for the third time in a row. Except it doesn’t take long at all for steam to start rising up from the faucet this go around and you feel like you could just collapse in relief. He still had hot water. You weren’t going to freeze to death after all.

“There,” He murmurs, straightening to his full height again. “Go ahead and take your shower in here. I’ll be in the other room so just give me a shout if you need anything.”

Dan Heng starts to turn, making your eyes go big and round with surprise. “But what about you? I don’t want to take up all of your hot water.”

“It’s fine. I can just grab one after you're done.”

“No, that won’t work.” You insist, reaching over to smack the faucet back off with a little more force than was strictly necessary. “March said she only had about fifteen minutes before the water started coming out cold. I’m not sure how long ago she took hers but when we checked it was still out of hot water.”

“Hmm,” He appears to hesitate at that, his gaze taking on the thoughtfully introspective look you were starting to recognize as the gears in his head turning. “Could it be that they get so few guests staying here that they just closed off some of the hot water pipes to ensure they don’t keep running? It’s not quite cold enough in the city for them to freeze so I don’t think it would hurt anything …”

“Right?” You lift your brows in emphasis. “If Belobog is the only human settlement on this planet then what’s the point in keeping an entire hotel up and running?”

“That’s a good point and I wondered about it as well. Unless this hotel was at one time meant to …” Humming softly under his breath, Dan Heng gives his head a slow shake. “No, there isn’t any point in speculating on that right now. We don’t have enough information to start making inferences. Figuring out what we’re going to do about the current problem should be our priority.”

A quiet beat passes, loud in the absence of running water.

“We could always shower together.”

Dan Heng’s head doesn’t so much as move even a fraction of an inch but his gaze snaps up at you lightning fast. The sharp intensity in his eyes immediately makes you regret saying it. Were you being weird again, despite the absence of the closet to facilitate or otherwise encourage your odd behavior? Or was it really the Stellaron mixing up the radio signals in your brain? You weren’t sure what you would do if you managed to scare him off the same way you’d sent the hotel staff running and screaming.

“Or,” He intones at length. “We could go down to the reception desk and ask them to look into it for us.”

“March said the same thing.”

“But?”

You breathe out a quick huff through your nose. “But that sounds like it might take a while. We’d have to explain what’s going on, have someone come take a look at it and then they’d try to fix it. We already agreed that we’ll have a busy day tomorrow so I don’t want to cause any trouble for either of you. Not if I can help it. This would be the faster solution, right?”

To his credit, Dan Heng’s expression softens in as much as it ever does. Which admittedly isn’t a whole lot, but it’s enough to be noticeable. “You aren’t causing problems for us. Don’t even give it another thought and, please, don’t ever let March hear you say that. I don’t doubt she’d take it upon herself to personally show you just how untrue that really is. That being said though, I can understand the reasoning. Doing it that way would be quicker.”

“But?” You volley it right back at him.

“There’s not actually a ‘but’ here. If you’re sure about it then I suppose I don’t mind going about it this way either. It would certainly get both of us into bed far quicker than any other alternative.”

You don’t exactly understand the eager thump your heart gives at his acquiescence but you allow yourself to smile up at him when the urge suddenly strikes you full force. “Then it’s settled?”

A curt nod. “Yes, although I do hope you actually know what it is we’ve just agreed to. If you change your mind at any point don’t hesitate to tell me and I’ll get right out.”

“Don’t be silly.” You assure him, reaching for the hem of your loose fitted shirt. “I'd never kick you out like that, Dan Heng. Both of us deserve to go to bed nice and warm, and clean.”

He starts to open his mouth — to say what, you’re not sure, because it catches in his throat when you unceremoniously tug your shirt up over your head in one smooth motion. You lose sight of him for a brief moment through the soft knit cotton and by the time you get it pulled completely off he’s pointedly looking elsewhere. Anywhere but at you.

“Is something wrong?” You quietly venture, a soft note of uncertainty creeping into your voice now.

“No, it’s fine. Just … hurry up and get undressed so we can get this over with.” Decisively turning his back to you, he starts to shrug out of his long jacket. You hesitate, looking from him to the shirt balled up in your hands and then down at your own chest. A mild pang of relief comes over you at finding your plain black sports bra very much where it should have been.

So you hadn’t forgotten to put it on. Good. That could have been rather embarrassing for you.

In the same breath you abruptly realize that you were about to take it off and get naked in the same room with Dan Heng who was already working to get all of his clothes pulled off too. He seemed to understand that well enough. Perhaps even more so than you actually did. So why had he reacted like that when you’d taken off your blouse? Surely it wasn’t all that strange for someone to disrobe in front of another … was it?

Pondering this conundrum, you carefully watch Dan Heng fold and set his garments aside on top of the sink one layer and one deliberate motion at a time. His coat and the bracer worn on his right arm make up the bottom of the pile, followed by the lightweight hip guards worn around his waist along with the belt that secured it all. The second skin of his tight black shirt comes off next, revealing a smooth back that flexes powerfully with the overhead motion he uses to get it peeled away. It doesn’t escape your notice that, through it all, he makes a point of not looking at you. All of his attention remains forward and locked on the task at hand, neither uninhibitedly baring himself at you nor stealing any lingering glances in your direction.

It was almost as if in despite of the shared nudity that was inherent in an arrangement like this, he still wanted to give you your privacy. Or as much of it as one could possibly have when bathing with another person.

Was that what it was then? The root cause of his reaction was … reticence on his part? You hadn’t stopped long enough to consider that or any of the other potential implications that came with it but it seemed Dan Heng very much had. If he was behaving this way then you probably should be too.

With that decided, you turn away from him and mimic his actions of neatly folding your top. You don’t have anywhere else to put it though so you have to make do with setting it on top of the toilet lid. The following silence is surprisingly rife with some unnamed tension, interspersed only by the near constant rustle of clothes being removed. Your boots, socks, skirt and underwear are all soon discarded, and you have to try very hard not to look when you hear him shuffle towards the tub again.

“Ready? I’m going to turn the water back on.”

“Go ahead.”

The spout turns with a soft creak and the faucet roars to life, loudly spewing water into the basin. Same as before, and much to your relief, it only takes a few moments for steam to begin wafting up from the noisy deluge and start creeping into your periphery. He quickly smacks the plunger down to redirect the stream to the shower head and the bathroom is suddenly at least two octaves quieter than it was before. You could hear yourself think again. Thank goodness for that.

Silently, Dan Heng steps in first and you quickly scuttle after him. You weren’t keen on losing out on even a single drop of hot water but your refusal to look up from the floor makes actually getting into the shower a bit of an awkward process. You have to feel around with your foot to figure out how close you are and your big toe hits the side of the porcelain a bit too hard, making you hiss through your teeth. Quickly shaking it off though, you lift your leg and blindly step over the rim.

Only to slip when you come down wrong on the other side, the slick surface ripping you off balance with a gut wrenching lurch. You collapse forward, arms flailing, but Dan Heng is quick to grab hold of you before you can hit the floor. Once all I said done, the only thing you’ve succeeded in doing is smacking your knee into the wall.

“Owww …”

“What in the world do you think you’re doing? You could have seriously hurt yourself or broken your neck.” He snaps at you, his tone still as mild as it ever is but there’s no mistaking the sharp bite of reprimand lurking just below the surface. You feel vaguely like a troublesome toddler he’s been tasked with babysitting as he hauls you further into the safety of the tub before reaching up to pull the screen closed with a sound click of his tongue. “I was wondering what was taking you so long to get in but I didn’t expect you to jump without even looking first.”

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, still trying to keep your eyes averted as you carefully work to get your feet situated under you. “I just — I didn’t want to invade your privacy.”

“My privacy?” He echos you, incredulous. “You should have considered that before you suggested us taking a shower together. It’s a little late for it, don’t you think?”

Cautiously slow, you bring your hands up to brace them across his damp chest and gently push. Dan Heng’s hold on you hesitates and then relaxes, letting you pull free so you can take a step back. That his fingers linger at your forearms as if to steady you, or perhaps catch you should you slip and fall again, does not escape your notice, but you decide not to comment on that just yet. Or maybe ever, depending on how the next few minutes played out.

“Sorry.” It’s all you can think to say now.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. While I do appreciate the consideration, there’s no getting around the fact we’re going to see each other naked in a situation like this. It’s okay to look.”

“But?” You whisper into the steady stream of water coming down at his back.

“No ‘but’s. I’d much rather you look than hurt yourself.” His hands shift, adjusting to loosely grasp your elbows. When he gently tugs you in closer to him, you acquiesce without a fuss. You hadn’t noticed how big they were until now and that makes for an unexpectedly convincing argument to encourage your compliance. “Here, get under the shower head. We should make sure you warm up enough before we run out of hot water.”

You can’t exactly argue with that when the rising steam only seems to further highlight just how chilled your skin actually is so you let him get you spun around, trading spots. The steady, hammering rush of warmth hits you all at once as you’re directed into the spray and a violent shudder instantly races up your spine. Whimpering softly, you curl in on yourself as you bring your arms up to wrap them around your upper body. The resulting nudge against painfully hard nipples almost steals the air from your lungs but if Dan Heng notices the way you subtly jolt at the contact he doesn’t show it.

Evidently oblivious, he reaches up to almost casually palm the top of your head. At first you think he’s merely petting you in an uncharacteristic show of doting affection but you quickly realize he’s helping to work the water into your hair, ensuring it’s thoroughly sodden. Still uncharacteristic, or perhaps unprecedented was the better word, but decidedly nice.

Very nice, actually.

“I didn’t take you for the shy sort.” He eventually murmurs, more to himself than to you. No way were you about to pretend you hadn’t heard him though.

“Funny. I was thinking the exact same thing.”

“Me?” His blunt fingers pause in your hair. You can feel him peering down at you through the steamy gloom that encompasses the cramped tub but you were still hesitant to lift your eyes and look. There was no telling what you might accidentally catch a glimpse of.

You really had no idea, truth be told, but given his earlier reaction it seemed like one’s body wasn’t meant to be ogled or stared at. He’d looked away from you for a reason. It only seemed fair if you gave him the same courtesy.

A terse, silent moment passes.

Evidently realizing he wouldn’t be getting any further explanation, Dan Heng exhales a quiet sigh into the thickened air before directing his hands down to your shoulders. “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

Not only did that sound like a rare, once in a blue moon offer you were sure to never hear again, it also seemed way safer than facing him the whole time. You were already having trouble keeping your eyes from wandering from the single strip of his bare arm you’d settled on, having had no other choice when you were standing so close to each other.

So you gratefully pivot, giving him your back. Your shoulders start to relax from their defensive hunch now that the warm water is running down your front and slowly seeping into your skin. It seems to feed into the internal temperature of your core as he shifts behind you, reaching around for something out of sight. The next time his hands come up to touch your hair, it’s with a healthy dollop of shampoo coating his palms and fingers.

A soft sigh of contentment slips out of you as he starts to work it into a nice lather over your scalp, keeping your neck tipped back so he could still work without having to deny yourself the comfort of the shower head. He’s as diligent with this as he is everything else, yet so incredibly gentle about it that you almost start to doze right there on your feet. It felt beyond good. It was amazing.

“Gotta’ say I didn’t expect this Trailblaze mission to turn out like this.” He says at length, just when you’re starting to really drift off to la-la land.

Blinking yourself awake, you fix your attention on the ceiling. “Neither did I.”

“And to think, it’s only just started. You’ll have to forgive me if being I’m too rough by the way. I don’t often groom anyone else’s hair besides my own.”

“No, it’s perfect.”

He huffs a quiet laugh but refrains from saying anything further until another minute or two has gone by, and a nice, thick lather has accumulated over the circumference of your skull. “There, that should do it. Turn around again but keep your head tipped back so you don’t get suds in your eyes.”

Obediently, you move to spin around but you seem to have forgotten something rather important in your drowsy state. Namely your close proximity to one another, how very near you were standing to him. But it’s too late by the time you realize your mistake though, and your tits wetly swipe across the lower half of his chest with a sharp burst of fleshy friction. Both of you draw a quick inhale in near perfect unison at the contact and your eyes pop open where they’d started to slide shut again, suddenly wide awake.

For the first time since you’d stepped foot inside the shower, you find yourself looking directly up at Dan Heng. His startled expression must surely mirror yours because for a long time the two of you just stare at one another in mute silence. You aren’t sure what to make of this. Not the situation itself or the twisting knot low in your gut.

You think you should probably take a step back and put some much needed space between the two of you but you don’t get the chance. Unable (or perhaps unwilling?) to find the presence of mind to make your legs move before he reaches up to touch your hair again, you soon find yourself trapped between his arms. He’s got you caged in like this while he dutifully scrubs the shampoo away, evidently too committed to the task at hand to stand down even when a distant note of unmistakable fluster has settled across his normally stoic expression.

And as if Pandora’s Box had been effectively ripped open, like you couldn’t stop yourself now that you’d already looked once, your eyes start to wander. You take in his usually fluffy hair, now waterlogged and heavy across his brow, and the concentrated set of his mouth. Glancing lower, you can make out how well defined his chest and arms are, much more packed with muscle than one would expect from someone who, according to March, spent so much of his time in the databank room aboard the Express. You’d already seen him in action a handful of times though so it doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. He was strong and his firm physique showed that. And even lower than that …

Your eyes widen at the sight of your breasts squished up against him. No wonder you’d felt that brush of skin on skin in such stunning high definition, even for as brief as it had been. What strikes you more than anything though is how soft and pliable your flesh looks shoved up against his. Where Dan Heng was hard with muscle and unrelenting, your chest was soft and invitingly malleable. A distant part of you innately understood that this was the physical difference between man and woman, the biological indicators of sex. It sparks something in the back of your mind and you fumble to grab hold of it, to comprehend what it means.

Your frantic internal grasping is interrupted when Dan Heng roughly clears his throat, prompting you to snap your attention up with a little jolt.

“Just what are you looking at?”

“N - nothing.” You stammer, suddenly embarrassed. You’re not entirely sure why you should feel hot with shame and something else you can’t quite put your finger on but there’s no denying it’s there. You couldn’t tell if you were about to wilt and wither, or bonelessly melt into him.

“I think I may have to take back what I said earlier.” He grumbles. “It might be preferable if you don’t look.”

“Wha - -“

You feel it then. A soft nudge against your lower belly that sends your heartbeat lurching into overdrive and your legs instantly turn limp like overcooked noodles. It’s an entirely instinctive reaction, one you don’t understand anymore than all of the other confusing happenings that have taken place in this hotel bathroom, but when you try to pull away to get a look at what’s tickling your bellybutton, he just clutches at you tighter to keep you in place.

“Please,” His voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper as he bends his head close, wincing even while he presses his damp forehead against yours. “Don’t move. Just … stay there until it goes away.”

His expression is wretched. Dark brows knitted to create a deep wrinkle between them, his eyes so pinched you could barely see the dull blue of his irises through thick lashes. It almost scares you. Almost makes you second guess the wisdom in sharing a shower with someone else. No, that wasn’t quite right.

It was a man you were bathing with and you were … a woman. That was what made this dangerous and ill advised. That was why he’d reacted the way he had at the start of all this. Oh, how terribly you had miscalculated the full scope of the situation.

It’s a struggle to swallow down your jittery nerves and find your voice but you finally manage, somehow. “Does it hurt, Dan Heng?”

“No.” He hisses, contradicting himself and what your eyes were clearly telling you. “This isn’t your fault or your problem. I should have been more cautious, that’s all. It’ll go away in time.”

You don’t think you very much like the sound of that. “But why? Why does it have to just go away if it’s making you uncomfortable? I can help you.”

Dan Heng sucks in such a sharp breath you can feel it rattling around inside his chest where you’re pressed right up against him. “Don’t say that.” He croaks. “You don’t know what it is you’re saying.”

“I can learn. You could teach me.”

“Dammit …!”

He stiffly shifts his weight then, redistributing his balance to the full center of his body. You got the distinct feeling he was trying to angle his pelvis away from you, to pull it out of reach where he could flag and soften without the close proximity of your body heat there to entice him. You rock with the motion though, follow the movement. Stay pressed against him and reach down with one hand to blindly feel for what was causing him such obvious distress.

Your wrist bumps against the stiff flesh jutting out from his body, making him groan very low in his throat. It’s easy to find now that you have a general idea and you carefully wrap your fingers around the width of him, surprised yet delighted to find the skin silky soft and smooth. He twitches in your hold and swells, getting harder. Rapidly filling the rest of the way out while Dan Heng holds himself so tightly that you think he might just shatter and break right before your very eyes. You can’t help it though. Not only was curiosity a very compelling factor here but you also cared about him a great deal. The thought of watching your friend and fellow crewmate suffer in silence right in front of you wrenches at your very heart and makes it hard to think rationally.

And it must be the same for Dan Heng too, because his fingers stay frozen in place as you feel along him. They remain buried in your hair, fervently clutching at your skull, as if you could be the lifeline that would save him but he continues to hold himself back for some reason. It’s hard to say if he’s scared of letting you go for fear of what he himself would do or because he feared what you might do to him with that freedom. He doesn’t try to stop you or pull away though. Just quietly seethes into the scant space separating you as you locate the bulbous head and give it a brief squeeze. That makes a tense shudder work through him, starting in the general vicinity of his hips before racing up to the rest of him. Distantly, you realize that he wants to roll his pelvis forward into the touch, to seek out more and bask in it, but he won’t.

“Why do you fight it, Dan Heng?”

He manages to choke out a mirthless laugh, though not without a good deal of effort. “We only just met not that long ago, for starters. It seems rude to act on such impulses given our brief rapport with one another.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Maybe I do.”

You don’t think you believe that. If he really meant it he would have put an end to it by now, or at least made a greater effort to do so. But he just stands there, softly panting while you follow the length of him down to the base where a thick patch of curls brushes against your knuckles. The weight of him in your hand is surprisingly satisfying and you just can’t seem to stop yourself from exploring him.

Twisting your hand downward, you find even more satiny soft skin waiting just below and you eagerly curl your fingers around that too. It’s incredibly pliant but he sucks in a sharp, gasping breath in response to being handled and your pulse erratically jumps with a start.

“Gentle. Those are — sensitive.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I could be a lot more careful if I could actually see what I was doing though.”

A low rumble starts up in his chest, so faint you almost miss it under the constant spray from the shower head. Your whole body flushes, warming to the point of real discomfort but he doesn’t give you enough time to fully process any of it. Not the unexpected noise or the curling tendril of wanting low in your stomach. Not even the fact that you were currently holding the full weight of his manhood in the palm of your hand.

To your genuine surprise, he starts to pull back. Extricates himself from you with exceedingly stiff motions that leave you fumbling for something to say. Another apology or perhaps a plea. You don’t know which and you never find out, because he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. You have no choice but to comply as he guides you forward, pushing you almost right up against the interior wall of the shower and totally disregarding your mouse squeak protests while he does it.

“Stop hogging all the water.”

You open your mouth to snap back in response but all that comes out is a tiny little squawk of surprise when he pulls you back against him, moulding your wet back to the firm planes of his front. His hands drop to your waist then, taking bruising hold of your hips to press your lower body equally flush with his. There’s no mistaking the press of him now, the way it digs up into your lower back and slides into place along the middle seam of your backside like it naturally belonged there. It's as if you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe when he stiffly rolls his pelvis and grinds into you, somehow hesitant yet eager at the same time, before forcing himself to go still again.

“Sorry,” He says right into your ear, low and hushed, as the warm spray washes over both of you now. “I thought I could control myself better than this …”

“It’s okay.”

“It's not. You only just joined the Astral Express, not to mention you — the way we found you … it feels like I’m taking advantage of the situation but that was never my intention. I swear it.”

You understood what he meant even if he was reluctant to say it in quite so many words. There was a Stellaron inside of you but beyond that your identity was a complete unknown to everyone around you. Even you couldn’t say for sure who you were or who you’d once been, if you’d ever been anyone at all. That didn’t mean you were without your faculties though. You could still make decisions for yourself and take control of your own life. If that weren’t true then Himeko never would have given you the choice to join everyone on board the Express. This you knew to be true.

So you pointedly push back on him, meeting his next stiltedly reluctant thrust. Dan Heng’s fingers bite into the meat of your hips in return, clutching at you so desperately you half expect to find bruises blooming in the same spots later on. That doesn’t really matter right now though. What’s most important is not only helping him, alleviating the discomfort that so obviously pains him, but also proving your own autonomy. To him as much as to yourself.

“It’s okay, Dan Heng. You don’t have to hold back.”

Groaning softly in what you think must be relief, he huddles close and curls in tight against you. Nuzzles at your temple in a coaxing manner that makes you tip your head back towards him. Water runs down your face in heavy rivulets, matting your eyelashes together, but you pay it little mind. You’re much more interested in the way Dan Heng angles his mouth down and slots it against yours in a kiss that is equal parts tentative and demanding. The heightened state of his emotions is blatant in the hard press of his lips, the hungry pull that makes you want to submit and give him everything he could ever need or want. There’s a distant note of domination lurking under the surface of that heated exchange though, like he was innately drawn to claiming what he wanted for himself, but his level headed manners were still keeping him in check. That wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all.

You quickly make your choice and bring your hands up to take firm hold of his blocky wrists, making sure he doesn’t try to escape. Not that you actually thought he would when both of you were already in this deep, haltingly moving in tandem against one another, but you didn’t want his polite niceties to get the better of him. He either doesn’t suspect a thing or he simply doesn’t care though, because he just keeps kissing you even when you go up on your tiptoes to make his cock drag down your ass. The height difference makes it a bit awkward, a bit unrefined, but you manage to successfully raise up enough to leave him nudging at the space between your legs.

And when you come down again, trapping him in the soft squeeze of your thighs, he gasps like you’d just electrocuted him. The sound rattles inside his chest where it’s pressed into your back but, still, he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t tell you to stop. Rather, he drags his palms lower to grab two big handfuls of your upper legs and press them more tightly together around him. You nearly lose balance and tip over in this unnatural stance but a quick hand slapped against the damp wall steadies you.

“Careful. If you continue to push this much further …”

The warning in his voice is clear as day but you don’t really care. Not when you could feel the faint pulse of him between your thighs and he was lined up so perfectly with the seam of your cunt that you could feel your own internal pressure ratcheting up another notch. This wasn’t exactly familiar territory, this pulse pounding excitement that makes you dizzy with a need you don’t fully understand, but the instinctive urge to nudge your hips back and forth feels much too natural for you to truly question it. So you just do it.

And oh, how you’re rewarded by the simple slide of him along your slit. Hot, blinding sparks flash behind your eyes and you almost swoon right there in his arms, but you know you have to keep moving. Need to chase that pinprick ember of satisfaction just as much as he does, and Dan Heng only reinforces that when he pulls you back to meet the next enthusiastic thrust of his hips.

A gasp catches in your throat at the wet, meaty smack and lodges there as you tip your face down to look at yourself. Some of your hair slips forward with the motion, wet and clinging, but you hardly even notice it with so much of your attention focused on your own body. Your nudity hadn’t felt so stark before, when you were simply focused on bathing and occupying space with him wherein the two of you just so happened to be naked together. It’s so different now looking at it through the hazy lens of intimacy though, the sight of your tits bare and wet stoking the flames within you to even greater heights. Beyond that, over the soft curve of your stomach and lower still, you can just make out the thatch of hair covering the cradle of your pelvis. And beneath that his cock head nudges out from between your legs, blooming for but a brief moment before retreating back into the tight squeeze.

It was enough to nearly make your knees buckle and give out.

“Oohhn,” You hiss into the constant spray, swaying in his hold. “Dan Heng … that feels - -“

“Incredible.”

You let out a soft moan in agreement, rocking in time with his steady thrusts. The height difference was a good thing, actually. It ensured he stayed pressed up tight against you, constantly knocking your cunt with a fleshy jostle whether he was pulling out or pushing in. It was a continuous cycle of pleasurable shockwaves that quickly leaves you panting just as heavily as he is, and you eagerly writhe against him when the pressure just continues to build and build. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense. What exactly had he done to you?

Had he even done anything at all, or was this just a natural result of your own needs mingling with his and feeding into one another? You couldn’t be sure. It was impossible to think straight when your cotton stuffed head was starting to spin alarmingly fast, but you decide that it doesn’t really matter either way. The drag of him against your cunt was enough. His possessive grip on your body was enough. There would be time to figure everything out later, after you’d properly taken care of each other, and you let yourself rock back into him with an accompanying groan that subtly rises in pitch at the tail end, basking in the litany of sensations.

“Can I —“ He suddenly blurts, choking on it. His fingers sink into your flesh so hard it starts to hurt and you let out a faint whimper while he struggles to reorient himself. “Can I … touch you?”

“Nnghn, ah - aren’t you already touching me?”

“More. I’d like to touch more of you, if you’ll permit it.”

You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. He certainly wasn’t making it easy. “Ooh … please, please touch me, Dan Heng. I feel … I feel like I’m - -“

His hands immediately fly up off your hips and greedily latch onto your breasts instead, lifting the weight of them in his palms. You suck in such a haggard breath you feel like you just might pass out on the spot as you arch against him, throwing your head back into his shoulder. Water from the shower head mercilessly pelts against your face now but you can’t be bothered to lobby any complaints about it when he’s cupping your tits as if they were meant to fit right there in his hold. It’s perfect and sublime, and it just ratchets your own excitement up another notch, making you impotently shudder.

This pulse pounding feeling of cresting pleasure may have been foreign to you, but you could already see yourself becoming irreversibly addicted to it. Perhaps this was even more dangerous than you’d first realized.

“Oh! If you do that …”

“Does it hurt?”

“I — I don’t know.”

He noises a faint sound of confusion at your quiet whimper, his hands loosening around your chest. You’re acutely aware of the odd little look he gives you through the swirling steam but can’t quite bring yourself to turn your face away. Whatever this was, whatever it meant in the long run, you wanted more of it. Needed more of him.

“Don’t stop. Please.”

A small frown graces his lips. “But you just said - -“

“I know. But I don’t want you to stop.” Carefully, you lift your hand — the one not currently braced against the wall — and cover one set of Dan Heng’s knuckles with your fingers. They seem dainty resting against his like this. “It feels kind of funny but I don’t think it’s bad. I don’t really understand what it means but … I want you to keep doing it. Please?”

Groaning like you’d just sucker punched him right in the gut, Dan Heng leans further into you until his weight presses you down into a half stooped position. His skin sticks to your back and clings but this too feels good. His body heat bleeds into you, warming you up far more than the shower ever could have, and you eagerly squeeze the muscles in your legs to keep them locked in place. This time when he kneads your breasts it’s much more tentative and slow. He takes his time with it, just savoring the fleshy give, and you keen very softly when he at last nudges one index finger up to brush it over your nipple.

You can feel yourself sinking deeper into that hazy fog as he starts to move again. The restrained power behind his thrusts sends fresh bursts of static energy coursing through your system, further highlighting the sensitivity of your aching teats as you rock with him, luxuriating in the fleshy drag of his stiff length against your cunt.

Pap. Pap. Pap.

He keeps the rhythm slow and even, but so vigorous that it pushes you forward and makes your tits bounce in his hold. You experience everything in stunning high definition from the slick dampness that oozes out of you to smooth the glide of him between your legs right down to the simple sensation of water running across your skin. It’s overwhelming and somehow still not enough. You couldn’t even think straight let alone formulate a semi coherent sentence, your tongue lolling heavily inside your mouth as you shudderingly rear back into him just to feel that delicious friction again. And he takes it in stride, never faltering no matter how wild you get or how hard you shake as the tumultuous waves crest a little bit higher each time. The firm, unyielding planes of his pelvis meeting with your backside, harder, faster. The distant tickle of coarse pubic hair digging into the vulnerably soft flesh of your ass. Even the low, guttural sounds he makes against the side of your face. You were so close to drowning in all of it.

His thick, callous worn fingers curling up to finally pinch at your nipples is what really sends you over the edge though. The sudden jolt of pleasure so intense it rides the line of being painful almost makes you collapse right then and there, and you throw yourself back into him with mindless desperation. Your hips seem to move on their own even as you cry out for him, judderingly grinding yourself down on that rock hard length pressed up into you.

“Ooh, Dan Heng!”

“Please don’t say my name like that.” He quietly wheezes under his breath, still pinching at your breasts. Still pulling and tweaking, using his thumb to brush over them and flick the tightly coiled peaks back and forth. Your body was a livewire just waiting to detonate, and it doesn’t seem to escape his notice. It’s apparent in the way he’s so insistent with his ministrations, encouraging you to keep moving your cunt back and forth, back and forth against him with nothing more than the attention he gives your tits. He takes his time rolling them between the two pads to reward you for your efforts and he gives them a slow, encouraging tug any time your pace falters and you start to slow down.

It’s a vicious cycle that perfectly feeds into itself a hundred times over and keeps you balanced right on the precipice of some great, harrowing free fall. The world could have come to a sudden, fiery end at that very moment and you never would have noticed. All of your attention, your entire being, was for Dan Heng and only Dan Heng in that moment. His hands, his lips brushing your neck and your cheek when he nuzzles into you. The constant motion of his thighs flexing behind you, driving himself unendingly into the hot, damp spot between your legs. His taller, wider frame trembling against yours with all the pent up tension running through it that so perfectly mirrors your own.

You’d never felt anything like it before, and a very small voice in the back of your mind wonders if you’ll ever feel it again. Was this a once in a lifetime experience? A fleeting mercurial high that would disappear in a flash bang of white noise the second you tipped over into the awaiting abyss below?

If that was the case, if you were destined to bask in this dwindling euphoria once and only once in your lifetime, then you were determined to milk every last drop of enjoyment out of it while you could.

So you drop your hands and reach back, grabbing two biting fistfuls of Dan Heng’s narrow hips. Use the leverage to draw him in against you at a quicker pace, forcing him to snap his pelvis into your backside with greater ferocity. He issues a wounded, faltering grunt into the air but he doesn’t fight it. He hasn’t truly fought anything you’ve offered up to him on a silver platter, not once telling you ‘no’ since you first stepped foot into this bathroom together, and that knowledge sparks a simmering ember deep within your gut. It’s the taste of victory. Of conquest and self assured confidence that can only be achieved through the meeting of two compatible bodies.

You’re sure of it. Innately, or perhaps intrinsically, you just know that’s what it is.

“Oh, gods,” He rattles out, gritting through tightly clenched teeth while he fucks himself between your thighs, pistoning in and out of the tight squeeze like a jackhammer. “I’m so close — so close, I - I can’t hold it back anymore.”

You would’ve voiced your agreement if only you’d had the ability to do so. The breakneck speed at which he ruts into you effectively steals the air from your lungs though and it’s all you can do just to hold on, clutching at his powerfully flexing hips to ground yourself rather than to encourage him. He didn’t need more encouragement anyway. That one little nudge from you was more than enough and now he couldn’t quite seem to remember to be polite and gentle with you.

The wet smack of his pelvis slamming into your ass is now loud, almost defeaning, and it comes in rapid fire succession to damn near down out even the constant spray of the shower head. It just amplifies the already searing friction against your cunt until it seems to blur into a single, persistent tingle that just grows and grows to the point of delirium. He can’t help himself and neither can you. Not anymore.

“Dan Heng - -“

A truly bestial snarl snakes out of him. His fingers falter, slipping and sliding against your wet teats before adjusting to latch onto the bouncing meat of your breasts instead. What little bit of control he’d still been clinging to dissipates like dust in the wind, and he clings to you so hard it brings tears to your eyes. The demanding press of his fingers sinking into your flesh sends you over the edge with a sudden, lurching jolt as your pussy clenches up and squeezes uncontrollably against his length. Even when you wail out in high strung relief, trembling violently in the throes of your release, he just keeps humping into you like he’d die if he doesn’t chase his own pleasure quickly enough. That continuous drag over your slit just draws out your own involuntary spasms and you can’t help but cry out in oversensitized bliss even as you somewhat awkwardly twist in his arms to look down at yourself.

Numbly, you watch his flushed glans appear between the fleshy press of your legs, quickly disappear and then immediately reappear again just a split second later. He’s pounding into you so fast and so hard that the resulting shockwaves make your thighs jiggle slightly under the force. It’s incredibly fascinating to witness though and you stare at it in a trancelike stupor, barely even registering the pitchy moan he lets out right against your temple.

The next time his cock appears it’s with an eruption of creamy white discharge that shoots out to splatter across the floor and the wall, some of it smearing over the skin where the two of you are connected. Hissing like his soul is actively trying to leave his body, Dan Heng haltingly slows to a stiff roll of his hips that makes his length nudge back and forth just enough to drain the rest of his explosive release. Another healthy spurt rushes out of him and then a savory dribble quickly follows, thickly oozing from the tip to drip onto the floor between your feet. It’s over, just like that, and you blink rather owlishly down at the evidence of your illicit encounter as he heaves a deeply satisfied sigh of pleasure.

It’s a little hard to wrap your mind around what had just transpired, especially when you were still floating in the afterglow and well satiated, but you snap back into the moment when he carefully starts to straighten up. You hadn’t even realized he’d dropped into a partial crouch to better accommodate the height difference, and you turn in his hold to look back at him.

“Dan Heng … are you - -“

“We need to get out.” He cuts across you, back to being the same mild and polite Dan Heng you were used to, but at the questioning lift of your brows he sheepishly glances away. “The water is beginning to turn cold so we need to get out before you start shivering again. Otherwise that would completely defeat the purpose of doing this in the first place.”

Oh. You hadn’t even noticed, truth be told, but you shift to the side when he reaches around you to smack the faucet off. The room goes suddenly quiet, save the dull drip of water droplets running from the spout and two sets of deep breaths coming from you and him. You’d been so caught up in the moment that you hadn’t noticed that either but your heart was indeed pounding a wild rhythm against your chest, and you reach up to idly touch over your pulse. Wild and erratic, just like you’d felt leading up to that mind numbing crescendo.

What the hell had all that been?

“Let me get you a towel.” You hear him say, and you bring your head up in time to watch him flick the screen open with a sluggish motion.

“What about you? You didn’t even get to wash your hair.”

Dan Heng looses a soft bark of laughter as he steps out onto the waiting mat, giving you your first real look at his nude body. He’s all lean and svelte with a perfectly tapered waist and broad shoulders, and — he abruptly turns to face you without warning. You’re suddenly looking right at him. The cut lines of his pelvis and the perfect little bellybutton stamped right in the center of it; the damp mess of dark, dark hair crowning his softened cock and the unmistakable weight of it …

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel vaguely faint even as you smack a hand up to your mouth and quickly look away in embarrassment. You’d never seen one before. Or at least, you’re pretty sure you haven’t. That doesn’t exactly stop your body from reacting to it though and your knees turn instantly wobbly again to accompany the instinctive urge to touch him, taste him. To feel him moving inside of you with the same keen ferocity he’d shown your thighs. Gods, you were like some kind of pervert!

“After all that you’re finally getting shy?” He laughs, bemused, but you can’t quite bring yourself to lift your gaze again. The risk of jumping his bones seemed far too great for you to take that chance right now. But luckily for you, Dan Heng is much too conscientious to hold it over your head and you soon catch the sound of him shuffling for a towel just another moment later. “I’ll cover up if that will make you feel better but don’t think you’re going to get out of this without having a talk with me first. I meant it when I said I had no intention of taking advantage of you. This isn’t something we can just pretend never happened, you know.”

Cautiously slow, you peek over at him from the corner of your eye just in time to get one last good look at his tight backside before a towel slides into place around his waist. You may not have been able to see it anymore but that certainly wasn’t going to stop you from thinking about it well into the foreseeable future. Curse him and his gorgeous body. “Are you … upset that we did that?”

“Not at all. I only want to check in with you and find out what you want.”

Now that manages to throw you for a loop. “What do you mean? I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

Sighing softly, Dan Heng pivots back around to face you again. “That’s precisely why. You obviously have no expectations in place and some men would probably try to take advantage of that to use you for sex. I’m not like that though. If you want to do this the right way then I would likewise be amenable to that possibility. If you want to keep things casual that’s fine too. And if you never want to see my face again … well, I couldn’t exactly blame you for that I suppose.”

Confusion marches rampant through your mind until the lightbulb abruptly clicks on. He was talking about taking responsibility for his actions. Of giving you the proper respect and courtesy of having a choice. Dan Heng clearly had no desire to withhold an actual relationship from you if that was what you wanted but he also wasn’t going to force it on you either. How interesting. How very — chivalrous of him.

Your heart gives a tiny little thump against your ribcage, and you smile over at him. Eager and pleased by this revelation, but a bit nervous too. Whoever would’ve thought something as benign as sharing a shower together out of necessity would end with talks of a potential future together.

“Is everyone on the Express as old fashioned as you are?”

He smiles back, gracing you with a small but no less frustratingly charming grin. “In this aspect, I’m afraid it’s just me. Think you're up for it?”

“Yeah, I think I might be.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#star rail #dan heng #dan heng x reader #self insert bullshit

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iiseult · 2 days

Text

HIGH NOON SUNLIGHT: King Baldwin IV x reader (part 1)

CWs → fluff, angst, historical inaccuracies, slow burn, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, eventual smut (once reader and baldwin are both over 18), leprosy lol, time-period accurate sexism (but hopefully not much cause I ain’t writin allat), arranged marriage, the inevitable misery that this man’s tragic existence brings me, baldwin is originally way more in love than reader is, but don’t worry, you’ll come around!

Wordcount: 3.4k

Note: I can’t be bothered to do any real historical research, so this is surely rife with inaccuracies! Please let me know if there’s something about it that you know that I don’t know that I should know. Get it? Greatly appreciated!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The first time you laid eyes on the King of Jerusalem, he temporarily blinded you. So strong was the high afternoon sunlight that reflected off his silver mask, so pure was the white color of his robes, trimmed in gold. The sight of him in that moment burned itself into your memory forever.

The King’s horse, with a coat just as white as the rest of his majesty’s garments, came to a halt before you, whinnying and kicking up a cloud of dust as his gloved hands pulled back on the reins. You were in his way, and yet you couldn’t move. All you could do was stare up at the one part of him that was visible– his cloudy blue eyes, half-lidded and rimmed in red– and they were focused on you. Though it was hard to tell, it seemed to you his expression must have been soft, almost curious, so you held his gaze for as long as he would permit it. His lashes were blonde and soft, so much so that you were envious of the cheek that must have felt them gently brush against it whenever he blinked. Even if that cheek was hidden behind a mask.

Your father was a wealthy lord, and your mother a distinguished lady, making you no stranger to nobility and the powerful auras that often surrounded them, but his was different. Whereas the gaze of any other King would make you instinctually bow, his made your body freeze and your blood run hot. His was like the light of the sun. It was something you wished to bask in, to savor. Though you had never seen him before, you knew this man was your king. Finally, your body responded to this intrinsic fact and you bowed deeply, your cheeks burning red as a rush of self-hatred overtook you. Only three seconds into finally meeting him, and you were already letting his powerful aura wipe away all that bitter disdain you’d been working on so diligently throughout the past week.

“You may rise,” he uttered, his voice soft and smooth, like the feeling of woven silk against your fingertips. It was higher than you had imagined, a true tenor. Reluctantly, you straightened, doing everything in your power to avoid meeting his eyes again, for that would be improper, and you didn’t want to risk exposing him to the hideous anger that was currently boiling in your heart. Yet. He studied you for a moment, taking in your fine clothing and well-maintained hair, which flowed freely down your back, and came to the conclusion that you must be a lady. Perhaps the one he had been reluctant to meet all week since he had learned of her family’s arrival.

“My lady,” he began, tilting his head to the side, “Why are you alone?”

You broke your oath to yourself and looked back up to him, caught a bit off-guard by his question. Truthfully, you were surprised he was speaking to you at all, when he could have easily ridden his horse away and locked himself in his room, as had been his habit since your arrival. You bit back a dry chuckle and fought to maintain your respectful demeanor. In all honesty, it absolutely enraged you that he hadn’t made any effort to meet you or your family. Although you had been told by everyone that he was a good man and an even better king, you wanted to see that for yourself, and so far he was failing to meet your remarkably low expectations.

“I asked my maid to stay behind while I enjoyed a walk in your gardens,” you replied hesitantly. But why does it matter?

He was silent. You shifted uncomfortably.

“They are most beautiful, Your Majesty,” you added, hoping it was only you that felt the mounting tension.

“What is your name?” he asked softly.

“Y/N.”

He hummed quietly, a sound that made your stomach flip, though you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad feeling.

“So you are lady Y/N,” he stated, “and it is you who are to be my betrothed.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

That night, the King joined you and your family for dinner for the first time all week. His regent, count Raymond III of Tripoli, was shocked that he had finally agreed to leave his solitary games of chess in his bedroom.

“What, if you don’t mind me asking, Your Majesty, caused such a sudden change of heart? Just this morning you were averse to the idea of taking a meal with our guests,” Raymond asked as he and the young king slowly made their way to the great hall. The boy simply replied,

“I met her.”

King Baldwin knew he was running out of time. Day by day he could feel his body being eaten away by his affliction. How nice it would be to have a wife, someone to share his burden and rule alongside him until his time on this earth was at its end. But he never imagined he’d ever find a woman willing to throw her life away like that, or a family willing to condemn their daughter to such a fate. When Raymond told him of your noble family’s offer, he accepted, but not for the selfish reason of personal desire. No, he did so to ensure that Jerusalem would still have a chance at prospering after his passing. It needed to be done for the sake of the people.

After your marriage ceremony, Baldwin planned on allowing his queen to live her life as she pleased, free of any obligation to spend time with him. He would not disturb her or expect affection from her. He knew she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. As far as he was concerned, you’d never be in the same room again, and that was just fine. But he couldn’t completely suppress every one of his selfish desires. Just once, he wanted to let his imagination go, to pretend he could love someone, and that she could love him back. Seeing you for the first time was what made up his mind. Something tender stirred in his heart when he heard you utter your own name, and he decided that just a few hours with you would have to be enough to tide him over for the rest of his life. So he went to dinner.

Everyone stood and bowed as he entered the room. He took his seat at the head of the table and greeted each of his guests kindly. He permitted them to begin their meal, though he wouldn’t be participating. Normally, he had no trouble removing his mask in front of people at mealtimes, but your presence gave him pause. Surely you’d be repulsed, and it would be over before it even began. So he opted out of eating, instead choosing to watch you.

You felt his eyes before you saw them. That same warm feeling washed over you, and it wasn’t due to the wine you were drinking. You looked up and, unsurprisingly, his masked face was tilted in your direction. You fought the instinct to look away and instead held his eye contact, furrowing your brows a bit. Why now was he making an appearance after days of neglect? How were you supposed to react to that? And what gave him the nerve?

Next to you, your mother cleared her throat and whispered your name in a scolding tone. You shook yourself out of your inner monologue and uncreased your brow, which had unintentionally morphed into something closer to a scowl as your thoughts ran away from you. You smiled sheepishly at your mother, who did not look pleased, but she said nothing more about the matter. Next time you managed to steal a glance at the king, he was looking down at his empty plate. Good, you thought, Maybe he’s repenting for ignoring me all week.

When your parents had informed you of the marriage they had arranged between you and the king of Jerusalem, you weren’t exactly thrilled. Being a queen sounded like a big responsibility– one you weren’t sure you even wanted. Yes, it came with a lot of upsides, like the lush palace you’d be living in and the loyal servants that would tend to your every whim, but it also came with the burden of raising a family and making important decisions for your subjects. Not to mention the totally random man you’d suddenly be sharing the rest of your life with. As far as you were concerned, your future relationship with King Baldwin was just a chore; something that was certainly necessary, but not guaranteed to be enjoyable. If you were lucky, the two of you would learn to get along, just as your own parents had, and a few years down the line you’d pop out a couple kids and then wait around to die.

The rest of dinner was excruciating. You couldn’t relax, and your mother was absolutely insufferable, constantly checking to make sure you were sitting up straight and minding your manners. Your father was engaged in a riveting conversation with count Raymond, saving you from further scrutiny. By the end of the meal, you were about ready to retire to bed and stare at the ceiling for a few hours, but god had other plans for you, it seemed.

“Y/N, you’ll be joining the king for a game of chess in the library while your mother and I discuss legal matters with the count. We will come to collect you when we’re finished,” your father ordered, giving you a stern look that essentially told you not to do anything that might jeopardize your future– whatever that implied. You nodded demurely, biting back a scream of frustration. And just like that, he was behind you.

You felt his presence before he even said anything. A gentle heat emanated from his body, and a warm, slightly earthy smell wafted off him, like herbs and spices.

“Lady Y/N, I will show you to the library. Please follow me,” he said, his voice vibrating in his chest, only mere inches away from your back. You shivered and turned to face him, but his eyes were unreadable, and then he was walking away from you. Left with no other option, you followed swiftly, maintaining a safe distance. He led you through the winding, echoing stone hallways of his palace, dimly lit by candles and torches, since the sun had set hours ago. You had to admit, it was a beautiful place, and you wouldn’t mind getting used to it, even if that did mean you had to spend the odd hour with your soon-to-be husband. Soon, you arrived in front of a large, heavy oak door, which he pushed open with ease.

“After you,” he murmured, holding it open for you. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you shuffled into the room, immediately gawking at the towering ceilings and shelves upon shelves of books. There was a spiral staircase on each side of the room that led to a second floor balcony, which was visible through the railing encasing it. In the middle of the room sat a handsome wooden table with a chess board on it, the pieces already set up for a game. You always did like chess, but your two younger brothers constantly hogged the board and didn’t let you play, so you were forced to observe. It was rare that you actually got to play.

“Have a seat, lady Y/N. You can take white,” the king said, pulling out the chair for you. Reluctantly, you sat down, raising an eyebrow and wondering why all the chivalry all of the sudden. It was a little suspicious, but you couldn't help but approve. He kept his gloved hand on the back of the chair until you were comfortable, and then helped you scoot closer to the table. You turned your head and looked up at him, and you noticed the subtle crinkle of his eyes and the softness dancing behind them.

He was smiling.

The corner of your lip quirked up to mirror him– you couldn’t help it, though you had no idea why. And just like that, the sound of blood rushing in your head ceased, and a sense of quiet serenity fell over the room. The defenses you had put up to quell your nerves no longer seemed necessary. The contempt in your heart was ebbing away every moment you spent in his presence. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding before, and made your first move.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The chess game was abysmal. It’s not that you weren’t able to hold your own, because you certainly were, but it wasn’t nearly as easy as you had hoped. Whenever you played with your younger brothers, they’d be wiped in about ten minutes. You thought that’s just how the game was; short and sweet. But already thirty minutes had passed and a winner was just beginning to emerge, and regrettably, it wasn’t you. You scowled as King Baldwin took your last rook.

As you played, he intermittently broke the silence to ask you questions about yourself. At first it was mundane things, like what you enjoyed doing or what your favorite meal was, but it gradually became personal. You discussed your family, fond childhood memories, and your fears. Sometimes he would even throw you a bone and answer one of the questions himself, clearing away the shroud of mystery that surrounded him little by little.

“May I speak freely, my King?” you asked tentatively, ignoring the game for a moment to let him know you were about to get serious. He folded his hands on the edge of the table and leaned back in his chair, studying you carefully.

“You may, although I never wish you to speak conservatively in my presence.”

You smiled thinly, choosing your next words very carefully so as not to overstep boundaries.

“Why do you wear a mask?”

The king bristled at your question, sucking in a sharp breath, and a wave of regret washed over you. But before you could take it back, he replied,

“So nobody has to see it.”

You didn’t know what to say. His answer wasn’t really much of an answer, and it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, but it sent a pang of pain through your heart nonetheless. Why wouldn’t he want people to see his face, even in the comfort of his own castle?

He seemed to register your confusion, and a chill ran down his spine. Did you really not know, or were you playing a cruel joke? The more he thought about it, the more possible it seemed that Raymond hadn’t told your parents the full truth in order to garner their approval. Just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach, for you would certainly leave him the moment you found out. He knew it was too good to be true.

“My lady…are you not aware of my… condition?” he asked quietly, looking down so he wouldn’t have to see your disappointment. Your heart sank, and that rushing sound in your ears returned.

‘Condition…?” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Yes. I thought you knew… your parents…I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice strained. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“My lady, I… am a leper. My condition has caused my nerves to degrade slowly, and I am already losing sensation in my right hand. My skin is covered in hideous sores, especially my face. I wear the mask… to spare you.”

You stared. The room was spinning, not from shock, but rather from the sheer anger you felt toward your parents at that moment. They had tricked you. They had played a dirty, dirty trick and married you off, just so they could improve their own social standing, and they had done it all with absolutely no regard for your own wishes. No regard for the rest of your life, even. You slammed your fist on the table, the reverberations knocking over a few chess pieces and causing Baldwin to jump in his seat. He wasn’t expecting you to take the news well, but this was unprecedented. You seethed silently.

Well, that’s just fine, you thought, Because once we’re married, I’ll be the queen of Jerusalem… and the queen is NOT accepting visitors. No exceptions.

Baldwin stayed silent, his head bowed in resignation. He understood how you felt. It was a cruel situation indeed, and he wished he could go back and decline the arrangement, if only to spare you the unimaginable rage that spilled out of your gaze, which was trained intently on some unknowable spot in the distance. You stood abruptly, knocking your chair over as it hit the back of your legs, and he winced at the sound. But to his complete and utter surprise, you didn’t storm out of the room.

Instead, you stormed directly towards him.

Panicking, he rose from his chair, assuming a fortified stance in case you decided to get violent. He wasn’t too worried since he towered over you at an impressive six feet and four inches tall, but he certainly wasn’t looking forward to it, either.

Instead of striking him, you thrust your hand out and grabbed his gloved one, clasping it firmly. He could feel you shaking, presumably with rage.

“Well, King Baldwin,” you began, voice laced with venom, “let me see your face.”

His pretty blue eyes widened, and he didn’t stop you as you reached up and placed a hand on his silver-plated cheek. If you wanted to see, it no longer made a difference to him, since there was no saving the situation anymore. You might as well lay eyes upon the man you had almost married.

He slowly pulled off his hood, revealing a head of silky blond curls that tumbled down to his shoulders, and reached behind his head, untying the threads that held the mask to his face. You felt it give under your touch and removed your hand, letting it fall away and clatter to the floor. Finally, you beheld your king.

“My lord, you’re…” you trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words. Your eyes were wide, and he could see himself in your reflection. His pale skin, mottled with patches of red and pink, his lips, cracked and splitting at the corners, and his own sad blue eyes, one slightly clouded. The same face he saw every morning and every night.

“I know. I can put the mask back on, if you wish. But really, you do get used to it-”

You cut him off by reaching up and gently taking a lock of his curly hair between your fingers, tucking it smoothly behind his ear. He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face; he had never been this close to a woman before, save for his mother and sister, and they rarely ever dared to touch him. Your gaze was so intense that he almost wanted to look away, but there was something supernatural stopping him from going through with it. And then, you spoke.

“I cannot wait to marry you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Note: I will add links to the other parts once I post them and idk when that's happening so stay tuned!

#king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #baldwin of jerusalem #baldwin iv x reader #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven fandom #the leper king

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lulublack90 · 2 days

Text

Prompt 5 - Awful First Meeting

@wolfstarmicrofic May 5, word count 688

Sirius spied him from across the room. There were much more attractive people at the party but something about him caught his eye. He watched him for a while, scoping him out. The man wandered near the wall and Sirius made him move.

He slid up to the tall man and braced his hands either side of him against the wall.

“Hi there sexy, how’s it going?” This move had a 100% success rate for Sirius. Once, they got a look at his pretty face, and he turned on his charms. They were putty in his hands. This time, however, backfired spectacularly.

The man tensed and then, with strength that surprised Sirius, shoved him away before shouting.

“Fuck off!” Silencing the party as he stormed out of the room. A few of the party goers stared at him and snickered to each other, but most just went back to dancing.

Regulus’s best friend, Barty, sidled up beside Sirius.

“Yeah, that’s Remus. He doesn’t like it when people box him in, breathe his air or basically get in his space.”

“No shit,” Sirius glowered at him. Barty didn’t even bat an eyelid. Instead, he ran a finger down Sirius’s arm and said,

“But I’m all about being shoved up against walls.” He winked at Sirius as he rejoined the party, getting lost in the crowd. Sirius was mad, but he was not that mad. No way could he handle Barty’s craziness on top of his own.

He ran out of the room, hoping to find Remus and apologise.

“Hey!” He yelled down the street at the retreating figure. “Hey, wait up!” Remus didn’t slow down. Sirius was out of breath by the time he caught up with his long strides. “Hey. I’m. Sirius.” He gasped between breaths. “I. Just. Wanted. To. Apologise. For what. I did. Back there.” He pointed in the general direction of the party.

“Don’t care.” Remus said coldly as he folded himself into an ancient Vauxhall Corsa and sped away.

“Do you want his number?” Evan said, popping out of the bushes. Sirius jumped out of his boots.

“What the fuck, Evan! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” Sirius clutched his chest. Evan’s mouth spread into a toothy grin.

“Nope, just trying to steal your boots!” He bent down and snatched them up as he ran back into the party. Sirius didn’t even bother chasing him down, he’d get them back eventually. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His night was not going to plan.

He was about to head back into the party and find out what Evan had planned for his poor boots when a car stopped beside him.

“Were you just mugged?” Remus asked, after rolling the window down. Sirius barked out a laugh.

“No, it was just Evan. I’ll get them back.” Sirius thought while he had Remus’s attention he’d push his luck. “So can I get your number then? I really would like to make up for that disastrous introduction in there.” He put on his best, 'I’m sorry, please love me' face, and Remus gave in.

“Fine, give me your phone.” Sirius gleefully unlocked it and handed it over. Remus reached a hand out of his window and took it.

“Gee,” He said, smiling wickedly. “It sure would be a shame if you were mugged twice tonight,” And he sped away, cackling.

“OI!” Sirius yelled as he chased after the car in his socks. The car stopped halfway down the street and Sirius collapsed in the open window, reaching in to take his phone back. He couldn’t even get mad because the smile that greeted him made it all worth it.

“Go get your shoes, and you can treat me to a McDonald's.” Sirius didn’t waste any time and rushed back into the party, tackled Evan to the ground, took back his boots, waved at his brother and almost dived head first into the little car.

As Remus pulled away from the kerb, Sirius thought maybe his terrible night would turn around. That was until he found out how much Remus could eat.

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cutestdomi · 3 days

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‘cutie’

— theo nott x reader

summary! in which, the school’s heartthrob and womanizer, seems to have someone who has caught his eye, aka [name] [last name]. a quiet, calm, shy and bright hufflepuff.

— warnings? ; fluff, slight (and i mean SLIGHT) angst.

it started when you had bumped into him, a string of apologies left your throat and there wasn’t any room for him to speak. he was left speechless at how scared you were, and also the way you looked as you whimpered against his glance.

his eyes pierced into yours, a nervous smile expressed onto that cute, frail, face of yours. he couldnt take his eyes off you, feeling the need to smile, and that was enough for you to stop what you were saying.

“i’m so so sorry, please i didn’t mean to—“

“it’s fine, accidents happen, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it, principessa.” he said, his tone was soothing, using it as a way to calm you down. his smile never left his face, his eyes softened as he looked at you, never wanting this moment to end.

“oh uh.. thank you..” the girl infront of him meekly said, her eyes moved away from him, having an urge to not make eye contact since it was way too much for her. she had grabbed her stuff, her arms in place as she decided it was best to walk away instead of embarrassing herself further.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

it was weird, weird how theo had that basic hufflepuff lingering on his mind throughout the whole day, how could he be so smitten with only one interaction?

he always looked around for you, asking around, he even asked his group to look for you. and he made sure everyone knew about his feelings for you, but you were still, so oblivious to his feelings and his actions towards you, thinking he may be playing a joke on you.

So when he had come up to you on your way to your dorm, you had finally had enough and decided to speak up before he could get a word in. deciding this was the best way to finally put an end to all this tomfoolery..

“you know, toying with someone this much is literally embarrassing, i will not fall to my knees just for you to toy with me as you’ve done before, theodore.” i spoke, the tone in my voice stern and showed no sign of playing around, my smile was switched with a frown.

he was shocked, the expression he made had made it clear he was. “w-what? cara mia, i wouldn’t toy with you, i promise. i love you.” his voice solemn and quiet as can be, his eyes shone down and i could catch a glimpse of sadness through them the more i looked at him. he took steps forward, trying to express his true intentions in that moment.

“oh theodore, please don’t play around with me.” i said, my voice meek as i looked at him with a slight smile but still kept my distance as i was still unsure if he was true to his words. but i hope he was, i knew he was, but there was still something keeping me from saying yes.

his hand crept up to my face, slightly touching it as he looked at me first for permission before doing anything. i looked back, my eyes assuring him he could touch me and keep on with his action. his other hand occupied mine as our hands tangled together, his face creeping towards mine.

the moment was quick, but to me it was long, a sweet moment we shared. our lips placed on eachothers, i felt his smooth lips on mine as i kissed him back, trying to deepen the kiss. i didn’t want this moment to end, but it did, sadly.

“awh look who’s so impatient now, my principessa” he grinned at the nickname as he looked back on their first meeting together, her shy, gentleness with that smile that could make just about anybody (him) swoon. he grabbed my hand with his other one, the one that had once occupied my cheek.

he then placed my hand on his fair, soft skin. smiling at the cuteness, i couldn’t contain the way i felt in that moment. merlins how lucky was i? very indeed. he smiled, a cute grin and a flushed expression shown onto his face.

“i love you too, my cutie.” i grinned as i said it, the nickname sticking to him as his eyes rised up at the nickname. his grin growing even bigger now, god he couldn’t contain the love and excitement he felt when that word left your mouth. he hugged you, his arms around your waist as he kissed your cheek.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

#theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #cute #short story #one shot #harry potter #au #x reader #fem reader #lorenzo zurzolo #niccolo govender #hufflepuff #character x reader #character x you #slytherin

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 hours

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AITA for separating my boyfriend from his family⁉️⁉️

My boyfriend is not perfect by any means but when it comes to how shitty his family is to him, he is an absolute saint of patience. His mom pretty much uses him as her personal servant and cleaning crew, and she also forces him to be the parent & bad guy to his little brother. And whenever his little brother gets mad at him, his brother and his mom will talk shit about him like. In the same room as him directly in front of him. I know it happens because I have heard it. His dad treats him like he's a stupid little child, while also trying to convince my boyfriend to continue living with his shitty mother and brother, despite my boyfriend being a fully grown man who pays bills.

If its not clear, I hate these people. Its a miracle from the lord above that my boyfriend ended up even slightly well adjusted. The issue is that these people are his only family. His mom cut off her whole side of the family, and his dad's side is all in the middle of Mexico so my boyfriend cant visit them often and doesn't have much of a connection with them.

Him and I have been together for 3 years, and we are planning our future, most notably planning on living together here soon. He has been slowly learning not to tell his parents things, because everything turns into an argument, but he told them about us planning on moving out together, and it was a whole thing. They tried to demand that, instead, I move into his house with him and his mom and his brother so that he doesn't "end up in debt forever". Also in retaliation, his mom has been extra demanding, as if she's implying she can't survive without him (she can, she's fine, not disabled just shitty).

Here's where I may be the asshole. My boyfriend refuses to set boundaries, because he doesn't want to lose access to his only family. In return, I have been setting my own boundaries around his family. All of these boundaries limit their access to me, and my boyfriend and I's future home, and thus limit their access to my boyfriend whenever him and I move in together and start our own lives together.

I don't want him to cut his family off, because I know his family is very important to him.

So I am drawing defined boundaries to outline, hey, I'm not spending any time with these people! And I sure as shit don't want his slob mom & brother, or his shitty dad, in my house!

Every time he gets in a fight with either of them, also, I go out of my way to stress as much as I can to him that the way they're treating him is not normal. And I've been putting him in situations where he spends more and more time with me and my parents, so he has an example of how normal parents treat their adult children, instead of how his parents treat him.

I should note that he has agreed to most of the things I've said. Some hesitantly, but I do think he's starting to realize that I'm right. I'm just worried that I'm the asshole for constantly pushing him.

So, AITA for trying to separate my boyfriend from his family⁉️

#aita #am i the asshole

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lisbeth-kk · 2 days

Text

May Prompts

Today's prompt is: cold. (Apologies in advance for waving a cheery goodbye to the cold for a while, before it was brought back)

The Luckies Girl in the World (chapter six)

Summary: A visit to Sherlock's parents bestows Rosie with a pet name.

Six Years Old

I never found it weird that Papa called me Watson. It was his name for me, but some of my friends, teachers and apparently Sally Donovan, found it to be heartless and cold.

They all failed to discern the amount of affection and warmth in his voice when he addressed me as such. There was nothing cold about it.

Papa also used endearments like my heart and my precious girl, but only in private, which made them feel even more special. I never heard him call Dad anything but John, though he had a dozen different ways of saying Dad’s name.

***

Papa gave me a new name a warm summer day when I was six. We were visiting his parents, which I adored, he not so much. That’s what he claimed, anyway, but I saw how fond he was of them. They didn’t have that strong bond I had with my parents, but it more than sufficed, and Dad made up for it by being his wonderful self. Natural, friendly, helping in the kitchen and doing some of the heavier gardening for my grandmother.

Papa and his father had one particular interest in common. Bees. My grandfather had several beehives, and the first thing Papa did when we arrived, was to pester his father about the creatures he found so endlessly fascinating. Papa’s father was a patient man and answered all his questions meticulously.

Until then, I hadn’t been allowed near the hives, but this time, Pops, as I called him, had a surprise for me. My very own beekeeper suit, long gloves and a gigantic hat with a protective veil.

Papa was just as excited as me when I’d dressed myself, and the three of us walked into the garden to inspect the beehives. Not after Dad had taken endless pictures, though.

“Fascinating, aren’t they?” Papa murmured in my ear when Pops lifted out one of the frames where bees crawled around and buzzed.

I could only nod in agreement, because I couldn’t get my eyes off them. The hexagon pattern, the delicious honey they produced, their colour, how organised it all was.

At dinner that night, I told Dad all about my bee adventure, helped by Papa and Pops. When Granny served her famous honey cake with toasted almond flakes on top and vanilla ice cream for dessert, my day was complete.

“Is the honey from Pops’ bees?” I asked hopefully.

“Oh, yes, Rosie,” Granny answered. “Your Pops wouldn’t allow any other honey inside this house. Besides, it’s the best honey for miles.”

Pops squeezed her hand, and I sighed happily when I was granted a second slice of cake.

***

After that day, Papa started to call me by another name. Not that he discarded Watson altogether, but it was mostly limited to when he reprimanded me, so I guess it turned out to have a chillier effect on me in the end.

When he first used the new name in Dad’s presence, I could see tears form in his eyes.

“Bee,” Dad whispered. “What a beautiful and fitting name.”

“Indeed. You like it, don’t you?” Papa asked me.

“I love it,” I stated. “I’ve never had a pet name before, have I, Dad?”

“Not as such, love,” Dad agreed. “Do you want me to come up with something too?”

“Only if you want to. You call me love and sweetheart all the time in addition to my name, so it’s fine,” I told him.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” Papa recited.

“You and your Shakespeare,” Dad teased.

“Well, it is a nice quote, though I think an originally Danish saying, also used in Norway as far as I know, describes what I’m thinking about even better,” Papa retorted.

“Can you translate it into English?” I asked expectantly.

“Of course, Bee,” Papa replied. “A dear child has many names.”

Also available on AO3

(@s in the replies)

#may prompts 2024 #day 6: cold #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #grandparents #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

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funnier-as-a-system · 2 days

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So I have what I'm calling a psuedosystem, and just in general wanted to know if participating in Plural Spaces when I don't actually consider myself plural / I consider myself plural-adjacent is seen as acceptable or rude?

I have several imaginary friends who, for reasons, I'm sure are Not headmates (no autonomy/no consciousness/not sentient) but are important to me (I probably consider them veritbonds but I really don't relate to other immersive daydreamers)

but my experiences are kinda similar to polyconscious systems (I think? They're NPCs, not headmates, and there's no switching, but otherwise...?) as far as I've seen/heard.

I'm aware I could probably claim systemhood anyway, but I prefer "imagian pseudosystem"

Anyway yeah not asking "am I valid" or "is this okay", specifically asking "Do you& think it would be rude/invading/irrelevant to participate in Plural Spaces?" to blog and followers ^_^; Cheers

It's perfectly fine to participate in plural spaces if you consider yourself plural-adjacent! I see it like this – you go over to your cousin's house to hang out, you get along and bond over similar experiences and goals in your lives, and while you're there, they get out some snacks and some board games. Would it be rude to participate in those things just because you're not immediate family? No, it wouldn't be rude!

To me, part of the point of calling something plural-adjacent is to not just compare experiences, but to link our communities like an extended family. It's pointing out our similarities and going "Hey, we're like cousins! You can trust in me, okay? I might not understand everything about you, but I'll be here for you if you need it!" It's an alliance, of sorts, between many different communities, uniting through our similarities while respecting our differences. Visiting a community you're connected to in this way wouldn't be any weirder than going over to the house of a neighbor, or visiting a family member in the next town over.

There may be some things specifically meant for systems/plurals that you may want to leave alone, but the community is so vast and varied that I'm sure there are plenty more spaces, resources, and other things that you could find useful and open to you. Hell, I've seen people who have no connection to any plural or plural-adjacent experience enjoy time, creations, etc. in our community! There's no good reason, in my eyes, to discourage people to come explore our community, or to close ourselves off from others, especially when it comes to those who are likely to understand us best.

I guess you could also compare it to tourism and participating in foreign cultures. There might be some things that are only meant for those of that culture, but there are likely to be at least a few things that are open for all to participate in and learn about. And if you're from a very similar culture, then hey, more for us to talk about and bond over!

I don't see it as invading – you're basically a cousin. I don't see it as rude – you're not doing anything offensive or mean. And as for whether or not it's irrelevant – well, that's up to you, isn't it? I can't make that decision for you. I can't decide the relevance something has to someone else, or someone else's life.

In short, the answer is come on over, cousin, and I hope you enjoy this household's snacks and board games!

#thanks for the ask!

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forbebeandjam · 1 day

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https://youtube.com/shorts/NVMmTIGYWkA?si=hnmx8xyXMwQjEYNk

https://youtube.com/shorts/KINS-YyHCMU?si=MtwCDwHbEKIIdWze

Hi, love! May I please request a fluffy + spicy fic with Bada x blushy smoll girlfriend, basically Bada filming tiktoks doing this to her girlfriend..

Bites & Nibbles | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | smutty fluff

Summary: “should we call out?” “We can’t…”

Word count: 591

Warning: very suggestive content! MDNI if you’ve read my smuts you know.

A/N: hope I did good in meeting your expectations!! Enjoy!!

It was a normal day for you. You got out of bed and walked to the living room to look for your girlfriend, Bada. You rubbed your eyes trying to get rid of any drowsiness from your slubler.

Bada was nowhere to be seen so you went to the kitchen assuming she had already gone to work. When you were pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you.

You immediately felt Bada kiss your neck as her scent filled your lungs. You smiled as her kiss managed to make all the drowsiness leave your body.

“Good morning, baby,” she said, and her voice made you blush.

“Good morning, Bada. Are you all ready for work or did you want some food as well?” you said as you shook the box of cereal.

“mh… I want to stay like this for a little longer. Please~” she practically moaned in your ear. Your cheeks turned a bright pink when you felt her lips against our skin once more.

“Bada, you need to go to work and so do I. Don’t do this again,” you warned and she unwrapped her arms letting out a deep sigh.

“You just look so good in my clothes. Why don’t we call out today?” You looked at the clothes you were wearing. Her oversized t-shirt. It was baggy on her and it was even baggier on your small body.

“You called out yesterday when I had to work from home. The restaurant needs you,” you said but with one swift move she had you on the countertop and she positioned herself between your legs.

“Fine, I’ll just have you for dinner then,” she said before attacking your face with kisses. She bit your cheek gently and sucked on the soft skin.

“Can you not!? You’re so annoying!” You said as you laughed and giggled at her childish actions.

“You’re just too cute!” She said as she wrapped you in a tight hug. You smiled and wrapped your arms around her shoulders kissing her neck slightly.

“Just now you were being suggestive and now you’re being all cute. Are you bipolar?” You asked and she buried her face on your neck.

“I can be anything you want me to be. Anything for you, kitten,” she said as her hand slowly made its way up the shirt caressing your thigh lightly. That sent shivers down your spine and you arched your back making your chest press against hers. She could feel your hard nipples through her shirt and she bit her lips.

She rubbed your clothed core with her hand making you let out a moan as you held tightly to her shirt. A smirk was plastered on her face as she slowly moved the panties in between your folds and moved them up and down so they would rub your sensitive area.

“Mh~ Bada… please…” you said and she kissed your lips.

“Please what, baby?” She asked innocently.

“Please just… fuck me,” you moaned but her moves came to a stop when you asked her that.

“Sorry, baby. I’m running late and I can’t call out, remember?” She said as she began kissing your cheeks again and helped you down from the counter.

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. I love you,” she said giving your face one last bite and walking out of the house leaving you dumbfounded and a mess inside your panties.

“Bada… you’re too much,” you mumbled as you admired the state only she could leave you in.

Thank you for reading 🩵

P.S. I know I didn’t add anything with TikTok but I just couldn’t find any correlation between my idea and TikTok 😭 sorry

#forbebeandjam #honeybee156 #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #bebe #lgbt #bada lee #fluff #smut #bada lee imagine #bada lee x reader #bada lee smut #street woman fighter x reader

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cottonlemonade · 2 days

Text

How You Met

word count: 1111 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Sugawara x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: spoilers

____________________________________________

You cradled the stack of books in your arms as you looked through the large shop window onto the street outside. It had started to rain and people hastened by the unassuming storefront with umbrellas or their bags raised above their heads. It wouldn‘t be long before the foot traffic would die down completely, you thought. Although, in your opinion, there was no better place to escape to during a rainy afternoon than a secondhand bookstore. Grabbing your handy dandy footstool you made your way to a section near the back to sort away the volumes people had left lying around.

As you moved some paperbacks to the right to make more space, the battered little brass bell hanging above the entrance chimed.

“Good afternoon!“, you called out. Putting on your most inviting customer service smile you looked around the shelf to greet the new patron but all you saw was a swoosh of a little rain-damp jacket disappearing into the manga section. Shrugging your shoulders you went back to sorting, enjoying the comfortable silence of the shop and the soft sounds of the radio playing in the back.

However, after about a minute or so when you were just contemplating going to ask if you could help, you heard a quiet sob. You looked around again, thinking maybe you just imagined it, but kept your ears perked. Another suppressed sound made you climb down your footstool.

Behind the very last bookshelf sat a little boy, maybe six or seven years old, curled up to a ball, crying into his folded arms.

You approached him carefully.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The boy lifted his head a bit. His big dark eyes were filled with tears, his lips puffy and red as if he had bitten them to muffle any sounds. He hiccuped.

Your expression softened. He reminded you of your little brother. He had the same scrunch in the nose, when he was sad.

"Can I get you anything?", you asked gently, offering a kind smile.

He shook his head and hid his face in his arms again, trembling from a new wave of sobs.

You got down on your knees and rummaged in your pocket for a tissue. You were so focused to not frighten him that you didn't notice another ring from the bell above the door.

"Here.", you held out a tissue to the boy and he took it hesitantly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Again, a tiny shake of the head. You thought for a moment, then nodded to yourself as you shuffled a little closer to him. What would your brother need in this situation?

"Would you like a hug?", you asked.

The crying boy eyed you with uncertainty at first, wiping his tears on his sleeve. But your chubby figure paired with the rather motherly look in your eyes probably put him at ease because in the next moment he held out his short arms.

You embraced him at once, one hand on the back of his head, and one drawing soothing circles over his damp jacket.

The warmth of your hug made him break down even more. He cried into your shoulder and you held him, now slowly swaying back and forth like you did whenever your baby brother was upset.

"It's gonna be fine.", you said calmly, holding him tighter.

You sat like this for a couple of moments until finally his breathing became calmer, steadier.

"Would you like another tissue?" you asked eventually.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. You looked around in your pockets again. "Shoot, wait, I think I still have some behind the counter."

But before you got up an outstretched hand, holding a tissue appeared next to you. You jumped a little and looked up to a rain soaked guy, a little older than you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

The crying boy took the offered tissue.

"You alright, Yusu-chan?", the newcomer asked, concerned.

You moved protectively in front of the child in case this guy, sweet as he may look, was who the boy ran away from.

But “Yusu-chan”, still in your arms, nodded and sniffled, “Yes, sensei.”

The young man held his hand out to you to help you up.

"Thank you.", he said in a quiet, relieved voice, so that the boy couldn't hear, "I've been looking everywhere for him."

"No problem.", you replied, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You’ve already done more than enough, thank you very much." He bent down to pick up the boy, who immediately nuzzled into his neck.

You blushed under his genuine smile.

"I'm Koushi."

"Y/n."

"Yusuke.", said the little boy, composing himself and turning to you, his arms still around Koushi‘s neck, "I'm really sorry for crying on your shirt, miss."

You chuckled, "Oh, don't worry about it. Are you feeling a bit better now?" You reached out to pat his head and he leaned into the touch like a puppy might.

"A lot." He gave you a wide smile, exposing two missing front teeth. It would have looked sweet if the puffy eyes and red nose didn't break your heart.

For a moment the three of you just stood there a little awkwardly. "We should get going.'', Koushi said, using his free hand to ruffle his wet gray hair and considering you thoughtfully.

You nodded. Yusuke just looked back and forth between the two adults, confused.

"Well then... have a nice evening."

And so they left. You sighed when the jingle of the bell died down after the door had closed.

Staring absentmindedly after them for a few heartbeats you absurdly wondered if you‘d see them again, before shaking your head and going back to work.

A few moments later the doorbell chimed again.

"Good afternoon!", you called diligently, "I'll be right with you."

You slid the little stack of books in your arms in place and went to the front. Koushi stood by the register, nervously playing with his fingers.

"Hello again.", you smiled, your heart fluttering in hopeful excitement, "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, actually... I was ... I was wondering if you would like to grab some coffee, maybe."

Your stomach pulled a little. "Sure, my shift ends in 2 hours."

"Great, I'll pick you up."

You both smiled at each other unsure of what to do next.

"Okay then. See you in two hours."

He turned around to leave and walked right into the door.

You winced in sympathy as he rubbed his forehead.

"That's a pull."

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#sugawara x chubby reader #sugawara koushi x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #sugawara x reader #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara kōshi #hq sugawara #sugawara koushi #sugawara fluff

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charincharge · 2 days

Text

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-one

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

TW: College admissions. Sorry if you’re going through this now! Also, I went through this a longgggggggg time ago, and I know this isn’t exactly how admissions works, so apologies for creative liberties. I was supposed to post this before Aelin's birthday, but I missed May 3. Just by two days, though, so not too shabby! Okay, lets go. Final stretch, my loves.

“What do you mean you don’t want to celebrate your birthday?” Rowan scoffed. “Ace, you love your birthday.”

Aelin stretched her arms overhead and reached to touch her toes, ignoring the way her boyfriend stared at her with his usual hawklike intensity and instead leaned into her shins, helping relieve the ache from sore and overworked muscles. Dance practices had been relentless on her body, especially with the spring showcase just a few weeks away, she seemed to be in perpetual knots always.

Well, she guessed she couldn’t just blame dance on that. She was having a hard time with everything at the moment. While her friends were smiling and laughing at their last few weeks of high school, Aelin was feeling an acute sense of panic. The weeks following spring break had melted away faster than she could process, gone in the blink of an eye, filled with an onslaught of dance practices and AP exam prep and constantly checking her inbox for that little email notification from Wendlyn. And not nearly enough Rowan, who was spending all his free time with his lacrosse team. Not only that but everyone around her seemed more excited than ever with the prospect of leaving Orynth right around the corner, but with each passing day the knot in her stomach grew tighter. Everything was a ~last~ —and she was having a hard time enjoying that. She didn’t want any of this to be her last. Why was everyone excited that time was moving so fast? Why couldn’t she just freeze right here in this moment. In this limbo things were stressful, but they were still fine. Without knowing what her fate held.

College acceptances had come rolling in, one by one, her friends grinning wildly as they opened their emails. But Aelin’s inbox remained woefully empty. So, she wanted her boyfriend to forgive her for not feeling particularly celebratory, but then again, she hadn’t discussed any of this with him for fear of making him feel guilty about it.

As she breathed into her next stretch, she turned her torso to look back at Rowan, who was still waiting patiently for her response.

“My birthday last year was a disaster,” Aelin finally replied, completely ignoring the real reason she was feeling less-than-enthused. “How quickly they forget.”

But Rowan just rolled his eyes. “That was an exception. I have a feeling that no one is going to get arrested or go to rehab this year. Usually your birthday is all you can talk about for months. Are you really telling me you haven’t planned anything? For your eighteenth birthday?” he asked. “It’s in less than a week.”

Aelin shrugged, leaning to the other side and groaning as she stretched out a particularly tender muscle.

“I just don’t want to do anything this year,” she said. “The spring dance show is in two weeks, and I’ve been practicing every night. So, for my birthday I just want the night off.” She paused. “Is that really so bad?”

“No…” Rowan said quietly, picking up his phone and furrowing his brow. She’d know that face anywhere. He looked concerned.

“What?” she snapped and immediately regretted it when she saw Rowan’s face. He didn’t deserve to be the receptacle of her stress or ire. All he wanted was to make sure she had the birthday she wanted. Her sweet, sweet Rowan. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I’m just…”

“Tired?” Rowan filled in, and she nodded and lifted her arms above her head, extending them out for him. He swooped in quickly and helped her to her feet, enveloping her in a warm and comforting embrace. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered into her hair, and she could feel her tension melting away with each one of his butterfly kisses.

Aelin finally looked up at him, and his worried green eyes were staring back down at her. “I’m so tired, Ro,” she admitted as she squeezed him against her tighter. “The idea of doing something big for my birthday just seems like so much work.”

“It’s just a big one,” he replied softly. “I don’t want you to regret not celebrating.”

“And I appreciate that,” she said, letting herself melt into his chest fully. His heartbeat helped center her, and she rued the day that she wouldn’t have it there for her at a moment’s notice. “But I just want to hang out with you, eat too much chocolate cake and maybe go to sleep early.”

“So I should tell Lorcan to cancel the surprise trip to the strip club?” Rowan asked. Aelin’s head shot up, and her boyfriend’s answering smirk was telling enough.

“You almost had me there,” she said.

“He tried,” Rowan laughed, “But I shut him down pretty quickly.”

“What kind of strip club are we talking about?” she asked, causing Rowan’s worried expression to disappear, as she intended. As Rowan explained how he had to talk Lorcan off the ledge, Aelin took out her phone and needlessly refreshed her phone over and over. But her inbox remained unchanged.

. . .

“Stay calm and vote Manon and Elide as queens for prom!” Dorian shouted while shoving a rainbow flyer into a passerby’s hands. “A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote against The Man!” he continued, causing Aelin to snort into one of the crown-adorned cupcakes Maeve had contributed to the cause. Dorian had taken it upon himself to run point for Manon and Elide’s prom queen campaign and had recruited Aelin to help him during their shared free period. Not that he needed the help. Orynth High had rallied around the pair of women, and there was no doubt as to who would sweep the vote, but it was still something that Aelin could do without that horrible nauseous feeling taking over her entire body – which might have been helped by the fact that Dorian was also still waiting for a college acceptance email, and so the pair of them were happy to use lifting up their friends as a distraction. Or at least use it as a reprieve from constantly refreshing their email. He’d received a few rejections and was pinning all his hopes on one last college.

“A vote for Manon and Elide is a vote for equality!” he shouted, offering up his own plate of cupcakes to a nearby freshman, who accepted it readily.

As if they’d heard their names called, the pair rounded the corner, hand in hand, smiling softly at each other. Manon pulled away for a second as she tied up her newly dyed turquoise hair into a messy bun, causing Elide to sigh dreamily. Aelin watched as they slid their fingers tighter as they came back together and leaned into each other’s shoulders. They’d both received their acceptances to Perranth, a small liberal arts school nearby, earlier this week and the pair hadn’t stopped smiling since. Aelin was happy for her friends; honestly, she was. But that didn’t stop her stomach from churning with jealousy at the fact that they were going off into their post-high school future together.

“Oooh, are those Maeve cupcakes?!” Elide asked, eyeing the funfetti confection in Dorian’s hand. He lifted the plate, offering it up, and Elide wasted no time in grabbing it and shoving half of it into her mouth.

“Sooooo good,” she mumbled around a mouthful of crumbs. Manon rolled her eyes at her girlfriend’s enthusiasm and used one of her long nails to brush away a bit of frosting from above her lip. Unable to control herself, she swooped down and kissed the spot she’d cleaned, as if to make sure it was completely free of sugar.

“And I thought Rowan and I were disgusting,” Aelin laughed.

“You are,” her friends all said in unison, not wasting a single beat.

Aelin flipped them all off, burying her face into her own cupcake instead as Manon asked Dorian for a status update on his polling info. She was taking this extremely seriously, and it kind of warmed Aelin’s heart to see her cold friend use her ruthlessness for good. Well, for Elide’s good.

Though they were deep in conversation about numbers and which cliques were voting for whom, Dorian stopped and gasped loudly.

“What?” Manon asked, and Dorian opened his phone and showed it to them.

In bold at the top of his email inbox was a brand new email, waiting in bold from Anielle University with the subject: Dorian Havillard, Application Status.

“Oh my god, OPEN IT!” Manon shouted as she reached for the phone, but Dorian clutched it to his chest in horror.

“NO!”

“No?” Aelin asked, raising a brow in his direction.

“I can’t open this in the middle of the hallway,” he hissed. “What if it’s a rejection?”

Aelin’s chest panged with sympathy. She knew how hard Dorian had worked this year with volunteering at the hospital and all his APs to get into the college of his dreams. Aka, one far away from his father. Anielle was as far as it got, and it was a great school, too. Not to mention it was the last one he was waiting to hear from.

“Do it when you’re ready,” she said. “Don’t let these college admits pressure you,” she continued.

“Ah, fuck it,” he said. He closed his eyes tightly as he pressed the bolded link. He took a deep breath, and cracked an eye open before shutting it again. “I can’t look. Someone look for me.”

“Give me that,” Manon grumbled, pulling the phone out of Dorian’s white-knuckled grasp. As a wide smile appeared on her face, Aelin’s stomach clenched further. She knew what that look meant. “Look yourself,” Manon said, handing the phone back to Dorian, whose eyes were still clenched tightly closed.

He blindly groped for the phone before Aelin shoved it into his wandering hand. “Congrats,” she whispered, knowing what the email would say without even seeing it herself.

Dorian’s eyes shot open, darting across the screen as that very same smile she’d seen on all her friends one-by-one ripped across his face.

Aelin tried to smile back as Manon and Elide crowded him with high fives and hugs and lifted celebratory cupcakes into the air and cheersed them together. Aelin refreshed her own inbox, but there was nothing there. Of course there wasn’t. At this point she was just assuming that she would have to reapply to colleges next year and maybe do community college locally for the year. That would be fine, though. She’d continue to teach dance and maybe volunteer at the hospital some more. Get some real-life work experience. Plus, she’d have time to drive out to Wendlyn and see Rowan on the weekends, if he still wanted her to do that, of course.

“Still nothing?” Elide asked Aelin, having noticed her quiet smile.

Aelin shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll get the rejection soon,” she laughed. “I just wished they’d do it sometime soon and put me out of my misery.”

Elide reached across the table and squeezed Aelin’s tense shoulder. “I know this is going to sound patronizing, but I mean it. If they reject you, it’ll be their loss.” She paused. “Have you talked to your mom, asked her if there’s anything she can do?”

Aelin physically blanched at the mention. “No. Not since the interview debacle.” She cringed more, realizing that her mom would most-likely be calling her on her birthday in just a few days, and she’d be wondering what Aelin’s status was. And Aelin would have to admit that she as a disappointment, just as she always assumed she’d be.

Yet another reason why she would not be in the mood to celebrate turning the big one eight. She’d need a full day to recover from whatever her mom said to her. She tried to remember if Evalin had ever forgotten her birthday before. She was pretty sure she had. And those years had hurt, had made her want to celebrate her birthday even harder. But she wasn’t sure if talking to her this year would be worse than not hearing from her at all. I guess only time would tell.

Instead of wallowing in her feelings, Aelin joined the celebratory cupcake party, drowning her feelings in Maeve’s delicious buttercream frosting, and hoped yet again for a single email to arrive and put her out of her misery.

. . .

Three days later, Aelin woke up to a small nudge against her nose. Then a soft kiss to one cheek, then to her other.

“Five more minutes,” she groaned, causing the offending kisser to laugh against the soft skin of her neck as his kisses trailed down toward her shoulder. “I’m serious, Buzzard, fuck off,” she said, but it lacked any real vitriol. After all, the man of her dreams was kissing every inch of her skin as thoroughly as he could while still being gentle enough to rouse her from her dreams with ease.

“Happy Birthday, Ace” he whispered as his lips ghosted over hers.

She finally cracked her eye all the way open and couldn’t help but smile widely at the sight of Rowan kneeling beside her bed, a sparkling glint in her best friend’s eye as she came to life beneath his gaze.

“Eighteen years old,” she whispered back, her voice still hoarse from hours of sleep.

“I know you said you wanted chocolate cake,” he said, “So I considered making you my poor attempts at breakfast cake again,” he laughed, reminding her of the day she’d woken up on her sixteenth birthday and resolved herself to kiss her best friend within that year. How far away that birthday now seemed, even though it was a mere two years ago. They were different people then. They hadn’t known how much they’d go through, how much life they’d live together to come out of it in this moment on her birthday again. Together. “But I decided to do you a solid and just bring a chocolate fudge cake for breakfast. Because you’re a grownup now. And grownups eat chocolate fudge cake for breakfast.”

She loved that despite their long history that Rowan still rambled when he got nervous with her. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, kissing him thoroughly. Her tongue slid between his lips and he groaned in response, kissing her harder and letting himself fall on top of her, despite still being on his knees.

“Maybe my first act as an official adult should be having morning sex with my boyfriend,” she mumbled against his lips, tugging him closer. He kissed her back, but shook his head and pulled away, causing her to pout sadly.

“As much as I would love that, your dad is downstairs.”

Aelin closed her eyes and stuck out her hand, revealing a thumbs down. Rowan laughed heartily, and she loved the way it made her feel dizzy.

“But we can eat some cake first,” he said, handing her a fork.

“Thanks, Rowan,” she said in a rare moment of sincerity between the two, not joking at all, and she loved the way his cheeks colored with a dark pink as his head ducked.

“I love you,” he simply replied. And though Aelin had dreaded the approach of this day, she relished in the fact that this boy – her best friend – loved her. For right now, that was good enough.

. . .

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rhoe said, enveloping Aelin into a warm hug.

Aelin quirked a brow up at her dad, who was not usually this sentimental, but she accepted the hug regardless.

“Shut up,” he said, chuckling softly as he pulled back. “It’s the last time I’m going to be with you on your birthday morning, and I deserve a hug. As a reward for getting you to eighteen at the very least. I think I did an okay job,” he said, looking her over.

“You did more than okay, Rhoe” Rowan said, pouring a large cup of coffee into Aelin’s favorite mug and then handing it to her. “You did amazing.”

“You’re already forgiven for waking me up too early,” Aelin laughed, but accepted the coffee nonetheless. “Mmmm, hazelnut,” she said, appreciating that her household had made her favorite flavor, despite not loving it themselves.

“DID I MISS IT?!” Lorcan asked, his voice breathless as he burst his way into the kitchen.

“Missed what?” Aelin asked, looking around at the empty kitchen.

“The gifting of porn and cigarettes, obviously,” Lorcan said with a wry smirk. But Aelin just rolled her eyes.

Her dad narrowed his eyes and looked at Lorcan with disdain. “You’re so lucky I like you.”

Lorcan’s grin only widened in response. “Happy eighteenth, slugger,” he laughed, handing Aelin a pile of scratch-off lotto tickets. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Rhoe’s lips curled into an unwitting smile as he wrapped his arm around Aelin’s shoulders, tugging her close once again.

“Dad?”

“Lorcan is being an absolute idiot, like he always is.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I know you’re still waiting for official replies, but no matter where you end up next year…” Rhoe began. “I’d like you to be able to come and visit as much as you like.”

He pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Aelin. “Happy birthday, Aelin.” He looked around the room. “From all three of us.”

Aelin looked at the men in the room, staring back at her, before processing that the thing now resting in Aelin’s hand was a key. Not just a key. But a car key.

“SHUT UP,” she said, her eyes widening. “SHUT UP!”

“I will not,” Rhoe said, but he couldn’t help but smile.

Aelin sprinted for the door before anyone could stop her, and she was practically crying as she reached the driveway where a dark green sedan waited for her.

“She’s old, but we gave her a pretty good makeover,” Rhoe said, apologetic. But Aelin knew how huge a gift this was.

“You guys did this?” she asked, and Rhoe nodded.

“One of my crew members was ready to retire it for scraps. It’s a got a fair amount of miles on it already, but we replaced all the important parts. New alternator, air filter, battery, breaks, headlights… pretty much anything that wasn’t up to code from 30 years ago.”

“Dad…” she said, running her hand over the shiny fresh coat of paint. “That must have been really expensive…”

But Rhoe simply shook his head. “It was less than I thought it’d be. The whole crew helped out during their down time, and these two bozos put in a fair amount of labor on some overnight shifts.”

Aelin’s gaze shifted to Rowan, who was pushing the toe of his sneaker into the gravel of their driveway.

“I might have lied a few times about being too tired after lacrosse to come over. Sorry,” he said, tucking his chin into his chest, and Aelin was suddenly buzzing with an warm feeling in her chest. The knot that had been there, tightening for weeks, suddenly loosened. Love. That’s what this feeling was. Just the sweetest, most incredible feeling. To be cared for like this by the people around her. So overwhelmed, she couldn’t help herself; she corralled the three most important men in her life together and widened her arms around them into a giant group hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She made sure to say it three times, thanking each one of them.

“Well,” Lorcan said. “Don’t you want to get in?”

Aelin squealed, throwing herself into the driver’s seat and adjusting the chair to her particular height. She breathed in the pine scented air freshener they’d hung on the rearview mirror and smiled. It was perfect.

The car was old, that was not a question. But that only added to its charm. The seats were a comfortable worn-in fabric with a pattern that reminded her of the old Terrasen airport carpet, with its greyscale geometric patterns. The dash was covered in a faux wood pattern that she recognized as being trendy decades ago, but it just made her love it more. This car had history. She’d seen things. She was well-traveled, and Aelin couldn’t wait to give her a brand-new life and explore even more. She knew they’d have many, many adventures in this car. Overhead, there was a sunroof, which she immediately opened to let in the mid-morning light, and she couldn’t help but tilt her chin into the light and let the glow warm her skin.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she finally said, lowering the window to look at her dad, who was more than pleased with his own handiwork.

But Rhoe simply scoffed at that comment. “So, are you driving us all to breakfast or what?”

Aelin grinned as Rowan pulled up a playlist titled, “A-ight-teen” and connected it to the clearly refurbished stereo system.

She laughed as the first song came on loudly – Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman – causing Rowan to grin widely, a grin that he reserved solely for her. Their matching smiles morphed into guffaws as Rhoe and Lorcan folded their hulking, tree-like bodies into the backseat, squeezing into the cramped sedan with no complaints.

“To Maeve’s?” Aelin asked.

“Yes, Jeeves,” Rhoe said in a ridiculous fancy accent, causing them to break into laughter again.

. . .

“SURPRISE!”

Aelin literally jumped as her friends popped up from behind the counter of Maeve’s. She glared at her dad and Rowan, who had clearly planned this, despite her specifically telling them she hadn’t wanted to celebrate her birthday with a party. I mean, had she known she was going to see more than just Maeve she would have at least put some makeup on!

As if reading her mind, Rowan wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered, “You look beautiful.”

She frowned but accepted the compliment and a long kiss. As they parted, Aelin was swept into a number of excited hugs from all her favorite people. Manon, Elide, Dorian, Chaol, Lysandra, and Aedion circled around her, and she gasped as Aedion stepped in, surprising her with a bear hug and lifting her off the ground. They were causing a bit of a ruckus, especially with Lorcan making his own rounds saying hi to everyone he hadn’t seen in a few months, so Maeve quickly ushered them all out to the back patio where she’d set up a special table, and Aelin couldn’t help but moan with pleasure at the plates stacked high with all her favorite breakfast foods.

“…stuffed French toast, maple cured bacon, cinnamon rolls with extra frosting…” Maeve started listing, pointing along the table at the overly filled table.

“Anything for someone who doesn’t want to go into diabetic shock?” Rhoe laughed.

“Cheesy scrambled eggs, potato hash, bagels, and toppings for breakfast tacos,” she said, pointing out all the savory options on the table, too.

“Yummmm,” Aelin groaned, her eyes practically rolling back into her head with pleasure at her first bite of French toast, despite having a chocolate cake appetizer barely an hour earlier.

“I think she’s fine with the surprise,” Rhoe snorted, elbowing Rowan, who practically jumped out of his chair, tearing his eyes away from Aelin’s mouth.

Manon cackled with glee. “As if we would let the birthday queen not celebrate her birthday. It’ll probably be the last time.”

A round of awwwws went around the table, but instead of the tightening Aelin would usually in her stomach, her panic was abated by Rowan’s fingers lacing with hers beneath the table. He squeezed, as if to silently say, I’m here and I know and I love you. And Aelin let the familiar feeling of his callused finger pads calm her quickly. As he drew circles on the back of her palm, she couldn’t help but think at how different this birthday was from the one only two years ago – the one where she’d planned to tell Rowan her feelings and chickened out. She remembered the way he’d simply sat in the corner, watching her socialize, and she wondered what would have happened if she’d told him then – would they still have ended up together? Or did they need to go through… everything in order to get to where they needed to be today.

Looking at the way he made conversation with everyone from Lorcan to Lysandra, something shifted inside her. This man would one thousand percent have rather been alone with her all day, but he also knew that – despite her protests – she did actually want to celebrate with her friends. Because he knew her. Fully. And that’s when she knew without a doubt that regardless of what happened between them two years ago, ten years ago, or ten years from now, Rowan would always be with her, silently loving her and helping her be her best self.

Aelin gulped, that knot that had abated earlier suddenly tightening in her stomach again. She had been so panicked for so many months about every moment being the last, progressively becoming more stressed as each of her friends discovered what their future held, while she still didn’t. But what was shockingly clear all of a sudden is that she did know what her future held. I mean, sure, she didn’t know where she’d end up or what she’d end up studying or exactly what her life would look like, but she knew that Rowan would be there by her side no matter what.

She almost laughed at herself. Wasn’t that what he’d been saying to her over and over and over? Why did it take until this moment to make her believe that?

“Presents?” Maeve suggested, and though Aelin nodded and smiled through each one, her mind was elsewhere, thinking about what she needed to talk about with Rowan tonight. Her stomach flipped – although she wasn’t entirely sure that couldn’t be blamed on the copious amounts of sugar she was consuming and her never-emptying mug of coffee.

“You okay, Fireheart?” Rhoe asked, nudging her ankle from across the table.

“Yup,” she answered, forcing a smile back onto her face and actually meaning it for the first time in a while. “Too much frosting,” she laughed, patting at her overly full stomach. Rhoe simply returned her laugh and handed the plate of frosted cinnamon rolls to the other end of the table where Dorian accepted it eagerly. And though she continued to open her presents and bask in the love of her friends and family around her, Aelin couldn’t wait to get Rowan alone.

. . .

“Did you have a good birthday?” Rowan asked, fluffing the pillows on the ground as Aelin gathered a warm quilt and pulled it over their makeshift bed. It’d been months since it was warm enough to go up to Maeve’s rooftop, but it felt like the perfect place to end the day.

“It’s not over yet,” Aelin said, snuggling into his side.

Rowan looked at his phone. “You’re right. You have ninety more minutes to celebrate. How do you want to commemorate your eighteenth year of life?”

Aelin raised her brow. “You think I brought you up here just to talk?”

Rowan snorted and pulled her closer. “You’re a menace. Come on, talk to me. I’ve seen your brain working a million miles an hour all day.”

Aelin looked up. “How do you do that?”

Rowan shrugged. “Do what?”

“Read my mind,” she said. “It’s spooky sometimes. I feel like you know things before I say them out loud allllll the time.”

Rowan chuckled. “I wish I could read your mind,” he said, tapping the side of her temple gently. “Now, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She’d been so distracted all day that for the first time in weeks, Aelin hadn’t spent every minute of every day refreshing her inbox.

She froze, and then her heart took off in a gallop, racing until she felt shaky with adrenaline. Sure enough, as she pulled the phone up, it was lit up with an email alert from Wendlyn University. Re: Aelin Galathynius Admission Status.

“Oh fuck,” Aelin whispered. Rowan’s eyes darted to the screen, and he shot up, sitting up too quickly and knocking Aelin off him.

“Are you gonna check it?” he asked, but even as Aelin clicked into her inbox, she couldn’t press it. The email that would tell her whether she and Rowan were going to end up at the same school for the next four years. And then, suddenly, she knew what she had to say. And she had to say it before she opened up that email and revealed her fate. Because her fate could only be one thing. One person, really.

She placed her phone down and looked Rowan straight in the eyes and said with as much conviction as she possibly could, “I think we should get married.”

#idwtw au #rowaelin #tog fic #throne of glass fic #tog fanfic #rowaelin fanfic #charincharge writes #rowan x aelin #weeewooooo #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic

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