#you fucked with the wrong warlock

[koiranliha]

I FORGOT AN 11 YEAR OLD CALLED AZIRAPHALE A SLUR IN THE BOOK.

#PAGE 89 IF YOU WANNA CHECK BTW AT WARLOCK'S BIRTHDAY PARTY #LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS #SHE CALLED HIM A FAGGOT LDIHASGGDSAHUDISALHGKDSAGDAHGSADHGDASKJ #THE THING IS SHE'S NOT WRONG #BUT WHERE DID SHE LEARN THIS #spaghetti wall #good omens #gomens

[forcedhesitation]

playing normal difficulty is so much more fun. I am glad I did explorer my first time, because I needed to learn! but it's nice to be able to mess around with the classes now that I understand the game mechanics better.

#bg3 spoilers #thoughts about media #I made karlach into a paladin and she destroys everything. i'm going to multiclass her into fighter to give her action surge too >:) #warlock/bard or warlock/paladin for wyll maybe? #bard would be cute because he likes dancing but paladin makes sense for how princely he is.... #the headband of warped intellect is astarion's little princess tiara so I could multiclass him into wizard. #it would be lore accurate to corydalis' campaign anyways. corydalis could help him learn magic better. #wizard has some JUICY unique features too. #as much as I appreciate gale I never take him with me because corydalis is a sorcerer. and sorcerers outclass wizards in every way. #like corydalis is the only one I plan to Not multiclass at all. #because you fucking Do Not Have To as a sorcerer. you're already the best class in the game. #but if I multiclassed astarion into wizard I could enjoy some of the fun stuff wizards get. arcane ward on astarion could be very useful. #I could always multiclass him into bard too though. can't go wrong with a bard!

[thedragonagelesbian]

im too emotionally attached to the intertwining of cyrus' barbarian multiclassing with karlach's romance, so i have to pick a different multiclass for the inevitable astarionmance run............................. but Which One.............................................................

#cyrus bg3 #id adore a celestial warlock multiclass pallylock is so tasty esp from cyrus' perspective of NOT having a deity hes sworn to for his oath #not sure when/how the narrative beat would work out or who his patron would be but itd be fun to explore #(using a mod obv) #alternatively it might be kind of fun to throw in some shadow sorcerery fuckery as a consequence of astarion dredging his body like a lake #more fully embrace that classic cyrus hawke neurosis of 'my body will not let me die' #came back so fucking wrong will never stop carrying the consequences of trusting you (will never stop caring about and trusting you) #(also modded...)

[macbethz]

blaze is dumb but yk what i would actually consider paying for? something that boosts your art specifically to people who search certain tags/boosts it to the top of the tag. but ig then the tags would be overrun with people doing that making the feature useless so it should just be for me I think

#i do love that tumblr is one of the few sites still operating in chronological order #butttt it does mean if you post a the wrong time youre fucked #warlock wartalks

[roosterforme]

Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.

Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry

Length: 11k words (what have I done?)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader

This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 

He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.

When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"

"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."

Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 

He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"

The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."

"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."

"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."

You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.

"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."

"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."

Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 

By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.

"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."

Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 

Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."

And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.

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

For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 

He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 

"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"

"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"

"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."

They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.

That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."

"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 

"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."

As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 

Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 

Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.

He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.

On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 

On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."

Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."

A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 

"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."

"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 

"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 

He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."

You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."

"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 

"Okay. Bob."

He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"

When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."

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

You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 

"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."

You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"

"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.

You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 

Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"

"Yes."

The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 

"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"

Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."

"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.

"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."

"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.

"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 

But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.

On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.

I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.

He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 

He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.

Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.

It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."

Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.

He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 

"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 

His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 

"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 

"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 

You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."

Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"

After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.

"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.

You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."

Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."

This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 

"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 

He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."

Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."

He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"

"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."

Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."

Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 

He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 

"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 

Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 

"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.

"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 

You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 

"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 

"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.

"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"

Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"

You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.

Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 

"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 

"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 

"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.

"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 

"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.

"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 

Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.

Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"

You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 

And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."

"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 

But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.

"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"

"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."

"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.

Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."

He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.

"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.

Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 

Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 

"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.

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

Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.

You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.

You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.

You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 

You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 

"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 

The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 

You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 

Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.

"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 

"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."

You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."

Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"

You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 

The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."

You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"

His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."

You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."

He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"

As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."

Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 

You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."

Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 

He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."

He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"

He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."

You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 

As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"

"Okay."

He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.

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

Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.

"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 

"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 

"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."

Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."

Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 

"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"

"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.

Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 

"Lieutenant Floyd."

He smiled softly. "Good morning."

"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.

You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"

He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."

Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."

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

You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.

"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 

"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 

The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."

His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 

Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.

You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 

"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.

"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 

You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."

When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 

Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.

You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"

At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.

"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.

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

It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 

"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."

You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"

He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."

The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."

Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 

As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 

Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"

He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."

"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.

He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 

You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."

It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."

"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."

Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.

He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."

Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."

He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"

You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"

"Yes." 

It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 

Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."

And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 

He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.

Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.

His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"

You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."

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

Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 

Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 

"Is it okay if I taste you?"

All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 

Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 

When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.

Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."

A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 

All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 

"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."

"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 

You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 

The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 

"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"

His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 

His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 

You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.

"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."

"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."

He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."

He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 

You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.

Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."

He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."

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

Six months later...

After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.

As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 

"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.

"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."

Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 

"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."

"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."

"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."

"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 

You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 

This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.

"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"

Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 

You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."

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

Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!

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its literally friday ?

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#bureau business #inoculated #txt

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give me that username lup. stop impersonating me

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CALLOUT FOR GARFIELD THE DEALS WARLOCK

so im not trying to start anything, but it has to be said. garfield has been collecting blood from various people and using it for nefarious purposes, as well as just kind of being a dick.

receipts under the readmore vv

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👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow

Life is meaningless and nothing matters. Everything sucks and we should all just give in. Submit to the Hunger.

🌱 merlehighchurch1

this is exactly what ligma was saying a few years ago

👁️ hungry-hungry-hunger-deactivated20170817 Follow

What is Ligma? Some minor god you think will save you when your plane is consumed?

🌱 merlehighchurch1

LIGMA BALLS OHHHHHHHH

✨ you-know-from-tv Follow

ohmygod you killed him

(53,007 notes)

🍑 juicy-wizard-official

↻ 7-bird-watcher Follow

🚀 cap-n-port Follow

A picture of the moon I took with my new camera! If you look really closely, you can see the B.O.B. on the left side.

🌱 merlehighchurch1

🚀 cap-n-port Follow

You can't do that here

(68,913 notes)

🌱 merlehighchurch1

↻ merlehighchurch Follow

🌱 merlehighchurch Follow

hey guys! it's me, merle hightower highchurch. just wanted to come on here and say that i'm a total loser and lup is the coolest bitch alive

🌱 merlehighchurch1

STOP

#this is elder abuse

(1,002 notes)

💀 reaper-kravitz-official

.

#my coworkers are driving me CRAZY rn #what do you mean it was 'just a little bit' of necromancy #WE ARE LITERALLY REAPERS LIKE HELLO #and now rq will be pissed at me. great #vent #do not rb

(2 notes)

🕸️ krav-dementia-raven-way

i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fu

#ohhhhh my god accidentally posted on the wrong blog #i didn't realize until BOTH of my coworkers had seen it fuck me #i am dating one of their brothers as well so #dreading our next work meeting and my date plans tonight

(1 note)

🌈 lucretiaadventurezone

i need to pick up taako by the scruff of his neck and shake him around

#this is my magnum opus #i spent hours on it and reached the image limit on desktop #long post #unreality #a sydney original #fake tumblr post #davenport #taz balance #the adventure zone #taako #lup #kravitz #barry bluejeans #merle highchurch #magnus burnsides #angus mcdonald

[e-nonsense]

─── 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩

pairing. prince!jason todd x witch!reader

summary. royal au. bruce doesn’t approve of his son’s relationship with constantine’s pupil/ward , not that jason cares

warnings. pet names: little pet, darling. Tooth rotting fluff i guess?

a/n. fuck writers block. three fits in less than 12 hours? crazy. might make this an au, so feel free to send requests based on this au to find out more

wc. 1.1k not proofread

Jason rolled his eyes as another young woman walked away from him, throughly offended. This had been one of Bruce’s many attempts to find his so a suitable woman— one that wasn’t you.

After Dick had married Princess Koriand'r and left to live with her in her kingdom, Jason had become the sole heir to Bruce’s kingdom. Being the second oldest of his siblings. But before any of that Jason had fallen in love with you.

“Lost young prince?” your voice comes from trees, and Jason glances around frantically. His hunting expedition had gone horribly wrong, a group of trickster illusionists had scared his men and the horses away. Leaving Jason behind.

“Who’s there?” He ask, raising his sword while turning in a circle, his eyes land on you as you step out from the shadows. The sun makes your eyes glow and Jason thinks you’re the most beautiful things he’ll ever see. His guard is lowered, as his eyes scan you up and down, taking in your beauty before moving back to your eyes.

You chuckle and he swears someone had to have casted a love spell on him, he can’t take his eyes of you. “Are you allowed to be this deep in the forest?” You ask and he gulps nervously as you step closer to him, your simple grey dress trailing behind you. “I’m surprised you made it through all the wards I put up around here.”

“Plus the Chimera,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Can you not speak?” You ask, inching closer till you’re in his personal space. “Apologies,” you smile.

“No.. no I can speak.” He whispers, staring down at you before sheathing his sword.

“Oh,” your smile widens. “Well, would you like to join me for tea?” You offer, and Jason knows he should’ve hesitated before nodding but he couldn’t help it. The excitement in your eyes when he agreed would be worth it if you were truly planning on killing him. Either way he let you lead him through the trees to a cottage that past the border of the land of witches and warlocks.

“At least try to entertain the thought, Todd.” Damian scoffed watching as another possible — approved — suitor walked away. “Father has gained many grey hair because of your devotion to the witch.” Truthfully Damian had no problem with you, he thought you were a perfect fit for his brother. Kind, loyal, able to put up with Jason’s moods.

It was just Bruce’s paranoia getting in the way of everyone’s peace. When the king had found out about you, he called in a favour from a warlock to get rid of whatever love spell you placed on his son. Safe to say John Constantine was amused by the request but assured Bruce that there was no spell on Jason and the boy’s infatuation with you was purely Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes at the thought, “or Bruce just needs to get over it.” He retorted, crossing his arms scowling as another pride princess tried to near him. “I’m leaving,” Jason says, looking over at Bruce as he makes his escape.

It didn’t take long for Jason to escape the palace grounds, through he was sure he had ripped his suit jacket, not that he’d see the stupid peace of fabric as he’d already dumped his clothes for a simple white poet shirt and some black riding pants. He rode his stallion to the forest’s entrance, stopping in front of it and trying it’s lead to a flimsy fence.

The prince entered the forest with no care, the protective wards shimmered as he entered, and the path illuminated in the darkness. Something you had done so he wouldn’t lose himself in the woods when he’d run from the palace and seek comfort in your cottage.

He quickly followed the path, passing the border and swiftly making his way to your home. When he arrived Jason knocked on the door softly, waiting for you to answer.

The door is answered a few seconds later, revealing a tall blond. The man groans, rolling his eye, “not you again.” He grumble, a cigarette dangling from his finger as he opens the door properly. “Kid! Your boyfriends here!” John calls out as he swings his coat over his shoulder, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he pats his pockets down looking for a lighter before snorting and lighting it with his fingers.

“Well go on in,” John shrugs, stepping out of the cottage you called home. “Oh, tell her to stop sending her little ravens to check on me, will ya?” John adds before disappearing into the misty pathway.

Jason always wondered how the man never found himself lost, or perhaps John never had somewhere specific he’d ever be going, cant be lost with no destination.

The second Jason stepped into the cottage he was met with the sight of you humming a tune, the same one he heard when the two of you met. Jason smiled, walking closer until he could wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi love,” you say as soft spoken as always. His eyes watched as you peeled potatoes before he kissed your cheek gently, “hi sweetheart.” He mumbled in return.

“How was the ball?” You asked, mainly teasing but with some curiosity.

“Missed you,” he huffed like a child, “Bruce is always trying to set me up with princesses. Who wants those snobby little bastards? Not me.” He complained.

“Just because Dick married a princess— who by the way comes from a magical bloodline— he thinks I’m going to do the same. Kori’s nice and all but how is it fair? Just because she’s royalty, its okay that Dick married her.”

You sigh softly, “he’s trying to protect you. People have never trusted those who come from this side of the world, faes, witches, shapeshifters. Sometimes with good reason, not all of us have good intentions.”

“But you do,” Jason retorts. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and i don’t say want anyone that isn’t you…. Is there a way that i could stay here with you?” He asks and you shake your head.

“Not without your father starting a war, we don't want a repeat of 1843.”

Jason groans but understands, Bruce would assume the worst if Jason just disappeared again, especially now that he was with you. He’d assume you’ve kidnapped him or some bullshit to feed his ideals.

“Can i stay for the night then?” He murmurs softy, his nose nudhung your cheek. “I just wanna love you before going back.”

You find your resolve melting away when you meet his eyes, blue and green. “One night, then home.” You nod.

“You are home,” he mumbles in response but doesn’t press further, instead the rest of the night is filled with laughter as you teach him a new recipe he’ll be sure to share with Alfred.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd drabble #jason todd oneshot #royal au #witch!reader #jason todd x witch!reader #enzo writes [📝]

[luvyeni]

❛LOVE POTIONS❜ ( p. wonbin )

💬nia’s notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE🎃🤍!! if you’re going out plz be safe🖤

p. warlock!wonbinx fem!reader w. 1.5k+

warnings? aphrodisiac usage, unprotected sex, dirty talk, public sex

— 𖦹 ( asking your best friend to make a sex potion for you turns into him fucking you at work ) !

freaktober masterlist

“Do you know how to make sex potions?” Wonbin looked up from his phone, the door to the magic shop locked up for the night, both of you in there alone. “S-sex potions?” he stuttered. “Why do you need to know how to make those?”

It was none of his business, he knew that you guys were only best-friends, but that didn’t stop his huge crush on you, or his ongoing fantasies about you and him.“Well it’s mines and haechan’s third date , and I think he wants to you know.” he was annoyed , of course you were doing this for that vampire senior , everything you did recently was for him. “Sex potions aren’t always safe.” he said. “It could go wrong.”

“I know, but you’re the smartest warlock i know.” he smiled at the praise. “And i really want to make him happy.” he sighed, he wished you’d do this for him, he could do so much better, be so much better if you only have him a chance. “Fine.” he said, you smiled. “i’ll make it for you, and bring it tomorrow.” you clapped, running up to him, hugging him.

later that night, he was reading the spell over and over. “He doesn’t deserve this.” he said, finding all the ingredients. “He doesn’t deserve you.” he has to calm himself down, he shouldn’t get too angry while doing this – throwing the last ingredient in, it was finished. he held the perfume bottle up, the pink liquid moving around. “You wouldn’t have to do this me.”

the next day, you skipped into the store the next day – he smiled, he always did when you came into the store for your shift. “Hey bestie.” you sat on the counter next to him, you sniffed the air, looking at him. “Are you wearing a new perfume?” he nodded shyly, smiling. “It smells good.” you said. “Did you, do it?” he hesitated, nodding. “Yeah.” he pulled it out of his pocket. “Just a little to your neck only when get around him.”

you took the bottle, inspecting it. “Why?” you questioned, he coughed embarrassed. “it’s a sex potion, if you use this around anyone but him, they’re gonna get you know.” he trailed off. “Oh, okay” you understood. “Thanks again wonbin i owe you big one.” you said hopping off the counter, making your way to the back, leaving him feeling happy as he rang up the customers.

you watched the last customer leave, locking the door flipping the open sign to close. “let’s start cleaning for the night.” he nodded, stretching his shirt lifting a bit, your eyes examined his body, you never noticed how toned his stomach was, he even had abs, he definitely had grown a bit since you guys were kids. “(name)?” wonbin waved his hand in your face. “You, okay?” you nodded, confused – what the hell was that? “i’m fine.” you chalked it up to you being tired. “let’s just clean, so we can head out.”

“Stupid ass high shelves.” you jumped up trying to put back the returned items. “i’m gonna kill whoever broke that damn step stool.” you grunted, struggling to put the items on the shelf. “Let me help.” wonbin’s arms reached over top of your head, his scent engulfing you, that same scent from earlier filling your nostril’s, you were surprised that it lasted that long.

“Th-thanks.” you turned tilting your head up to look at him, when did your friend get so attractive, it was so weird, these new feelings that popped out from nowhere. “(yn?)” he stood in front of you now. “Are you sure you, okay? you keep spacing out.” he looked at you concerned. “You look sick, you want to sit down, let’s sit you down.” he grabbed your hand, guiding you. “Wait.”

You stopped, he turned to you. “what’s wrong?” you couldn’t help yourself; you didn’t understand why you did it, but you grabbed his face, kissing him. you tangled your hands into his hair, kissing him deeper – your mind filled with nothing but him.

wonbin pulled away, holding your face in his hands. “i-i’m so sorry.” you stuttered out. “i don’t know why i did that, i couldn’t help it.” he didn’t say anything, pushing you against the shelf, slamming his lip into yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth, his hands traveled down to your waist lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Bin.”

you moaned as he began to kiss your neck, sucking leaving little marks. “Bin, please i need you so bad, it hurts.” he groaned, your voice was filled with so much need. “Yeah?” he whispered against your skin. “How bad do you need me?” you whined as his hand rubbed higher and higher up your thighs. “Need you to fuck me.”

his hand came up, cupping your heat, you moaned. “you’re so wet.” he rubbed you through your panties. “Got so worked up over a little kissing, i didn’t even do anything.” he smirked, pressing on your clit. “you’re so sensitive, you’re about to cum already just from from me touching your little clit.”

you were never this sensitive, you never came just from someone touching your clit, so it was such a shock when you found yourself moaning his name as you came, messing up your panties. “Fuck!”

he carried you over to the counter, laying your body down. “bin, i need more.” you whined, pawing at his pants. “i want you inside me.” he cursed under his breathed, you looked so pretty, your eyes so fucked out, clothes disheveled, so ready for him to fuck you. “Fu-fuck baby okay.”

he quickly stripped himself of his pants, slotting himself in between your legs. “You ready?” he rubbed his cock up your folds, you mewled, nodding. “Please fuck me, i need you so bad.” not letting you wait any longer, easing himself inside your hole. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

he seethed himself inside you fully, groaning at how you fit around his cock. “sh-shit you’re so perfect.” he pulled almost fully out, slamming back inside you. “wonbin , fuck!” you screamed as he thrusted inside of you. “Fu-fuck your pussy is perfect, sucking me in like this.”

he dreamed for this day – night after night of him fucking his fist to the thought of you spread out like this , his cock stretching your cunt to its max. “so much better than i imagined , your pussy was made to take my cock.” you moaned , never did you imagine that you’d be fucking your best friend , but it felt so good , you didn’t want this to be the last time. “don’t want you to stop.” he smirked. “Please never stop.”

he spread your legs, hitting a deeper spot, you screamed, clenching around him. “gonna fuck you all the time now.” he groaned. “Only i can fuck you like this, that senior doesn’t deserve to see you like this.” he said rubbing your clit. “you’re mine, alright, my mate.” he grunted. “gonna fuck you full of my cum.” you dumbly nodded, not fully understanding why he was talking about. “Please cum inside me.”

he was in heaven, your cunt sucking him in, desperate for him to cum inside your cunt. “Want my cum that bad -shit- fuck you nice and full?” he slapped your cunt, you yelp. “Yes, please cum inside me, i’m gonna cum!” you screamed, forgetting that you were still in the store, luckily no one was in there. “Please cum inside me.”

his thrust faltering, his body hovering over yours as he rutted his cock sloppily into you. “sh-shit i’m gonna cum, cum with me, want you to cum with me.” he said, rubbing your clit much harsher. “Fuck, i’m cumming!” both of you moaning out as you came, his cum shooting into your hole, filling you up. “Fuck.” he cursed, his head dropping into your neck, breathing heavily. “sh-shit that was amazing.” he said, you hummed coming down from your blissful high.

he pulled out, his cum slowly dripping out. “i’m sorry, i made a mess.” he said shyly, you laughed. “How can you be so shy after fucking me like you just did.” you shook your head. “Just help me get cleaned up and take me home.”

he took you home, you invited him in, both of you showering together where round two happened before you actually showered, getting dressed in some comfortable clothes, order food, ending the night with some cuddles.

“What are you gonna tell haechan?” you shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, he won’t be that hurt, he’s a hot vampire, there are plenty of other desperate witches at our university.” he laughed. “weren’t you one of those desperate witches.” you glared at him. “Watch it, you might be cute, and can make me cum, but i’ll still turn you into a goat.” he laughed. “you’d miss me too much.” you hummed.

“ i think you’d miss me more, cause then who else would you spray a sexual aphrodisiac on yourself for.” his eyes widened, you laughed. “You knew?” he said. “It washed away in the shower dummy.” he was embarrassed. “don’t be embarrassed, i’m not mad.” you climbed on top of him. “y-you’re not?” you shook your head. “Next time use vanilla scent.” he took note. “w-why vanilla.”

“Because it’s my favorite scent and if you use it i’ll suck your cock until you cum down my throat.”

©LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #riize x imagine #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize smut #riize x reader #wonbin x reader #wonbin imagines #riize wonbin #kpop fic #kpop imagines

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [6.2K] prompt: can I hold your hand? Shy Eddie, some yearning and fluff.

Eddie Munson wasn’t quiet. No. 

He wasn’t reserved, he wasn’t timid, he certainly didn’t let anything or anyone make him shrink. He was bold, brash, loud, dramatic and awfully, awfully charming about it all. He liked to garner attention, he liked to flirt, he liked to make himself known. 

No, Eddie Munson wasn’t shy by any means. 

Apart from around you. 

It started off subtle, little things that took you a while to cotton onto. On the days that Steve was busy, working overtime and unable to pick up Dustin and Mike from their club meetings, you’d linger outside the classroom door, listening to the pretty cadence of Eddie Munson’s dungeon master voice. 

You liked the lilt of it, the way he drawled out his script, his low tone dropping to a whisper before bursting out with a plot twist, the sounds of hands slamming on desks and groans and whoops from his enchanted audience. 

Then you heard the applause, the sounds of papers shuffling and chairs scraping against linoleum and you knocked once to be polite, opening the door to see the group of boys, and Erica, turning their heads to stare. 

Dustin waved, Mike smiled, Erica popped her gum at you and Eddie Munson stopped mid speech, big, brown eyes wide and his mouth in a pretty, pouty ‘o’. 

Silence fell over the hellfire table. 

You smiled, bright and warm, waving back to Dustin as you watched the kids gather their bags, sliding in their character sheets and murmuring their goodbyes to their friends. Eddie was still staring. 

The boy didn’t speak until you were ushering Mike out of the door, telling them that Lucas had finished basketball practice ten minutes ago and he’d be waiting by your car. Eddie cleared his throat as the room emptied, smiling shyly at you when you met his gaze, letting your eyes linger too long on his silver rings, the tattoos that peeled out from under his rolled sleeves, the curls that bounced in front of his pretty eyes. 

“Hi,” his voice was so much softer than the boom you’d heard from underneath the door, the one that had spoken about dragons and monsters and warlocks. “You’re not Steve.”

You grinned, looking up at him with more flirt than you’d intended and you watched him swallow hard, take a little step back and breathe out a stuttering breath that you probably weren’t supposed to hear. 

“I’m not,” you agreed, “Steve’s busy, got caught up at work but, uh, he said you wouldn’t mind if I gate crashed instead.” 

Eddie mentally cursed out his friend, unable to stop himself from looking downdowndown until his gaze found your bare thighs, the pretty light green sundress that skimmed the tops of them, your too clean sneakers toeing at the floor by his boots. 

Eddie Munson was fucking blushing. 

“I, uh— sure, yeah,” the boy winced, nose scrunched, eyes closed ‘cause oh my god, what was wrong with him?

But you laughed and it was a sweet noise, the prettiest sound Eddie had ever heard and suddenly he didn’t know what to say but he knew he’d go home that night and remember the smell of your perfume, something sweet like coconut and summer. 

But then Mike was shouting down the empty hall, Erica pulling at his bag as he complained and each huff echoed off of the locker lined walls and you were stepping backwards. 

You raised a hand in a small wave, smiling at the boy until you had to turn around to see where you were going and Eddie immediately missed the sight of your face. You were almost at the doors, all the way at the other end of the hallway and the boy was still standing, jaw slack, lips parted and eyes shining, watching you walk. 

And then as if he’d been hit over the back of the head, he snapped into action, voice breaking like a teenage boy as he called out. 

“Hey! Shit, uh—” Eddie winced when you turned, lips pressed together so it didn’t look like you were laughing at him. You waited, patient. “I, uh, fuck… what’s your name? I didn’t get your name.”

You grinned then, wide and easily, hands clasped behind your back as you stood, the setting summer sun lighting you up from the open doors behind you. Eddie thought you looked like an angel. 

You called back at the same volume, amusement and intrigue colouring your voice, telling the boy your name. You watched him mouth it back, trying out the syllables on his tongue, as if he was making sure it suited the shape of his lips. He must’ve decided it did, ‘cause he grinned, wide and pretty enough that you could see his dimples from even where you stood. 

“I’m Eddie,” he told you, arms folded a little shyly, one hand reaching to pull at his curls, hiding his grin behind them. 

Behind you, Dustin scrunched his features, bewildered. What was going on?

You smiled, ducked your head and nodded. You made sure you caught his stare as you looked straight at him, starting to back yourself towards the exit, the cool evening air hitting the tops of your thighs. 

“I know,” you told him, and god, Eddie looked shell shocked. 

—————

The second time you bumped into Eddie, it was at the grocery store and he knocked down an entire display of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. 

You were pushing a cart with your headphones on, wire tangled around your wrist as you shoved strawberries and cherries into the trolley, leaning against it until your skirt rode up too high and you were in danger of flashing the entire store. 

You think that’s when it happened. 

‘Cause you were straightening up to the tinny sounds of Joan Jett when you heard a dull crash behind you, the noise sounding far away from the way guitars and drums filled your ears. But you pulled away one speaker to look around, brows furrowed and lips parting at the sight of Eddie Munson staring at you from the midst of chaos. 

Soup tins rolled down the aisle, some split open and creating a mess, puddles of noodles pooling at peoples feet. Steve Harrington was beside him, scolding the boy who wasn’t paying attention, a basket hanging from his arm. Mrs Collins, the town librarian, was scowling as she sidestepped a can or two, tutting at Eddie who was still standing there, motionless. 

You found his gaze, lifted a hand in greeting and smiled. 

It was awfully lovely the way he turned pink for you, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and doe like, blinking slowly as you moved towards him. The mess in the tiles and the tired store attendant with the mop stopped you from getting too close, but you grinned all the same. 

“Harrington,” you greeted first, familiar and warm. 

Steve huffed out a laugh at the way Eddie was staring, already well versed in the way the boy reacted to you, hearing all about your first meeting from Dustin who told him animatedly about how Eddie freaked out when he first saw you. 

Now, with chicken soup at his feet and a fumbling Eddie by his side, he was starting to think the younger boy hadn’t exaggerated all that much. So Steve grinned and greeted you in a similar fashion, nudging Eddie not so subtly to get him to say hi too. 

It was like Eddie suddenly realised what had happened and he blinked at the mess around him, toeing at a rogue can, sending it rolling down the other end of the store. The store assistant sighed and walked off with his mop but Eddie couldn’t really find it in himself to apologise, not right then, not he his throat felt too tight and his face was hot and you looked so pretty. 

“H-hi,” Eddie managed, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets so he wouldn’t do anything else stupid, like take down the Gatorade stack.

“Causing trouble?” You grinned, stepping over a cream coloured puddle to gain some closeness, skirting around Eddie to avoid stepping into the mess. You left your cart sitting, played pretend and made out as if you really wanted that bag of trail mix that sat on the shelf behind the boy.

“Us?” Steve smirked, “never. Just… some of us are easily distracted, it would seem.”

Eddie let out a strangled noise, chin tucking down to hide his pink cheeks. He could feel the warmth from them, the same way he could feel your eyes on him. 

He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t say anything. Eddie wanted to hit Steve, a good, solid thump to the stomach because he felt like he was dying. He’d never felt that way before, so unbelievably shy and self conscious, unsure where to look, his stomach tumbling, his heart racing. It was wonderfully terrifying, made even worse by the way you looked, too pretty in another sundress - red this time - headphones blaring music he liked, dainty gold rings adorning almost all of your fingers. 

“We’re actually just grabbing some snacks,” Steve went on. “Movie night at Robin’s, d’you wanna join us?”

Eddie took it back, he didn’t wanna hit Steve, Eddie loved Steve. He held his breath as he finally looked at you, electricity buzzing over his skin when he realised you were already looking at him, a small smile on your face as you stood with one hip popped, the bracelets on your wrist singing as you swung your unwanted bag of trail mix. 

You pouted, genuinely disappointed that you had to say, “I’d love to but unfortunately I already have plans, thanks though.”

With another boy? Eddie wanted to ask. Did you have a boyfriend? A date? A girlfriend? Both? His head was swimming. 

Steve tsked, feigning dramatic disappointment to get you to smile and it worked and Eddie hated it. That’s something he would’ve normally done, a whole thing of clutching his heart as if you’d broken it with your soft rejection, anything to get you to smile at him like that. 

“Another time, then,” Steve told you and he slapped Eddie’s shoulder, a hand on leather. “Eddie’s hosting next week, horror night at his place. You should swing by, make sure he doesn’t scare himself stupid.”

You let out a soft laugh and Eddie swore he felt himself melt. He matched the sound, albeit a little more nervous than you, nose scrunching because he didn’t know what to say. 

Steve was starting to think he was playing wingman for a boy who'd forgotten how to function. 

“D’you need someone to hold your hand, Eddie?” You teased gently and the irony wasn’t lost on you because the boy was so much taller and wilder looking than you were, all leather and silver chains to your floaty, short dresses and his T-shirt today had a sun bleached print of Chucky on it. 

Eddie stumbled and stammered and after a swift pinch to his ribs from Steve he nodded, heart stuttering and stalling when you grinned wide and bright. Oh, holy shit.

You turned then, stepping back over the wet tiles and grabbing your cart, dumping in the bag of nuts and dried fruit with a small laugh only you could hear before turning to wave at the two boys. 

“I’ll see you both next week then,” you confirmed. You made sure to smile right at Eddie, not missing the way his gaze skimmed over all of you, the highs of his cheeks flushed. “You know, just to make sure Eddie’s looked after.”

And then you winked. 

You’d barely disappeared around the end of the aisle before Eddie groaned out loud and clutched at Steve’s t-shirt, trying his hardest not to drop to his goddamn knees in the middle of the grocery store. 

“What the fuck was that?” Steve choked out, holding back the laugh he wanted to release since Eddie first went into the tower of cans. “Where did your social skills go, hot shot?”

Eddie just shrugged, his head resting on his friend's shoulder. “I think I’m in love,” he replied mournfully. 

—————

Low and behold, you actually did come to the next movie night. 

Steve didn’t tell Eddie until the darker haired boy was setting up the movie, glancing at the time on the VCR and looking back at him questioningly. 

“Where’s Nancy and Jonathan? They’re never fuckin’ late.”

Robin was already sprawled out on the sofa, legs pushed underneath the pillow from Eddie’s bed that she had a habit of stealing. He missed the way she smirked, the way her eyes flickered to Steve’s and how they shared a look.

But Steve didn’t miss a beat, sounding cool, calm and completely normal when he replied, “oh, they’re picking up your friend.”

Now, Eddie wasn’t Hawkins' most popular guy. In fact, he could count on two hands the friends he had that were over the age of eighteen and most of them were already here. 

From the floor below Robin, busying themselves with the pizza boxes, Gareth and Jeff were laughing, eyes on food as they ignored Eddie’s glare. He looked panicked. 

And when he caught Steve’s eye and he watched how his friend smirked and shrugged, Eddie knew exactly who he was referring to. 

He whispered your name, each letter of it getting stuck in his throat and god, was he sweating? He felt too warm. “She’s coming? She’s coming here? Now?”

No one had a chance to respond before Eddie was on his feet, spinning in a circle, once, twice, before he made a noise that nobody could really discern. And then he was off, video tape only half way into the machine and the other movie boxes littering the living room floor, but Eddie didn’t seem to care as he disappeared into his room. 

There was a thump, a thud, a curse and what sounded awfully like a quick prayer. 

“Eds?” Robin called out from the couch. She looked concerned. “You okay?”

The girl only received a yelp in response and when Eddie reappeared he was in different clothes, his shorts swapped for cotton sweatpants, grey and almost new looking, free of ink stains. And his new shirt didn’t have any holes in the collar and the band logo on the front was less faded than his other choices. 

If he was breathing funny, nobody decided to comment on it. 

Eddie was combing his fingers through his curls, grunting at each tug whilst he kicked stray guitar picks and old notebooks under the sofa, pulling at Robin’s leg until she fell off with a whine, fluffing up the cushions she’d squished. 

Steve was staring, Gareth was confused and suddenly, there were tires on gravel and the groan of Jonathan’s unreliable car engine. 

“Oh my god,” Eddie whispered. 

And then you were in his trailer, walking in behind Nancy with a four pack of Eddie’s favourite beer in one hand and a bag of gummy bears in the other. You were in another dress, Eddie immediately noticed, a longer one this time, the black button down material reaching your ankles and when you moved, there was a split up the side that showed a ridiculous amount of leg. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Eddie mouthed again, staring at Steve with wide eyes before watching how you moved so easily into his small kitchen, smiling at Nancy when the girl showed you where to place the stuff you’d brought. 

You were in front of him as the room buzzed with conversation and semi serious arguments about pizza toppings and snack choices, Jonathan taking over VCR duties as he knelt in front of the television. Everyone was decidedly not looking at you and Eddie. 

You smiled, that same lovely smile you always seemed to save for him and Eddie huffed out a nervous breath. 

“Hey,” you greeted softly, holding out the pack of beers, giving them a little wiggle. “Nancy said you liked this kind.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Eddie exclaimed, but he took the bottles from your hands, cheeks pink when your fingers brushed and suddenly the trailer had never been smaller and he swore all he could smell was your perfume. “But, uh, thank you. Can I get you a drink?”

And then just like that, the lights were off and everyone was squished onto the sofas and armchairs, pizza boxes on the floor and everyone had glass of something fizzy or alcohol. The room smelled like popcorn, the TV buzzed with static and everyone eventually settled when the opening credits for Poltergeist started to play. 

Eddie really wasn’t sure how it happened, how you managed to end up next to him, both of you in the armchair that usually only sat one person, but the boy was certain it had something to do with Steve jostling and a Robin insisting there was absolutely no room elsewhere. 

Eddie felt like he couldn’t breathe, he could feel you against him, all soft curves and softer skin, thigh pressed to his and you slipped your sneakers off and tucked your legs into your chest. Eddie’s curls tickled your neck and you smell his cologne, peppery and woodsy, smoke and something sweet and god, he was looking at you with eyes that were big and bright, even in the low light of the TV. 

He was chewing on his bottom lip, gaze barely focusing and when you shifted slightly and your dress fell open a little, exposing the length of your calf and your knee, Eddie let out a choked sound and tried not to stare. But then the clown was putting his arms around little Robbie’s neck and pulling him under the bed and it seemed like the perfect excuse to move a little closer and hold out your hand, palm up. 

“Can I hold your hand?” You whispered to the boy, so close that your nose brushed his shoulder. You smiled when you heard his breath hitch, wiggling your fingers once, twice as Eddie looked down at the way your rings glinted, gold to his silver. “I forgot how creepy this movie is.”

It took the boy a second and he could’ve sworn he had a full audience of friends staring at him in the dark, but he smiled soft when he brought his hand to yours, marvelling at the size difference when you pushed your fingers between his. He sat for the rest of the night like that, your joined hands resting against your knees and Eddie didn’t have any concept of time or reality. 

All he knew was you, the touch of you, the smell of you, the solid, warm weight of you leaning into his side in the dark and god, his stomach flipped and his heart raced when you played with his fingers, toyed with each of his rings, spinning the metal around each digit. 

It felt like he was free falling, head spinning, chest aching. And then the movie was over and someone flicked the lights on and you stopped touching him - it was awful, the way you let go of his hand, but you were looking over at him with the sweetest kind of smile and suddenly Eddie didn’t want to ever be away from you, heart palpitations be damned.  

—————

Eddie hadn’t been working in the record store all that long. But he enjoyed the calm, the low lights, the way he got to choose the music. He especially liked the way you dropped in from time to time, leaning over the counter to invade his space, perfume and the smell of sunscreen taking over everything. 

He never got much done during those shifts, the usual customers going mostly ignored as you hopped onto the cash desk, dress hiked, legs swinging, smiling just for him. Eddie had gotten a little more used to your presence, the way you liked to lean into him, the way you liked to brush a hand over his arm when he listened to you talk. 

You liked the way he still went pink for you, pretty lips parting when you traced a finger over the tattoos you were sometimes lucky to see peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. And when the day turned to evening and you were still there, keeping him company through a slow, slow day, Eddie got brave and leaned in close to where you sat, forearms brushing against your thighs and you hummed thoughtfully at the close contact.  

You reached for a pen, a black biro that you twirled between finger and thumb and you tapped at Eddie’s wrist, grinning when he looked at you raised brows. 

“Can I help you?” He murmured. 

“Maybe,” you replied sweetly. “Gimme.”

You wiggled your fingers at his arm, pulling at his hand until he relented (easily and quickly) letting you rest it in your lap. Eddie swallowed hard, a small noise coming from his throat that he quickly coughed away, trying his best to ignore how his arm was touching your bare thigh. 

You seemed to favour dresses around him, any length, all colours but always pretty and this one was short and tight at your waist, flaring out with cute little daisies adorning the fabric. 

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off of it. 

“What’re you up to, trouble?”

The nickname was still fairly new and it felt soft and sweet on Eddie’s tongue and the boy loved how it made you grin, preening a little as if it was the highest compliment he could give you. Maybe it was; a true testament to the havoc you played on his heart rate. 

“Giving you a new tattoo, Teddy.”

That nickname was new too. It started out as a tease, a joke when he’d appeared at the diner one night late, the rest of the party half way through their burgers ‘cause Eddie had had a nap that turned into a small coma. His curls had still been messy and sleep mussed, his usual leather jacket replaced with a hoodie that was too large and awfully soft looking, a tan colour that made his eyes look like sticky honey. 

And thus, Teddy slipped from your lips over strawberry milkshakes and as the rest of the group howled with laughter, the boy in question turned the prettiest shade of pink. But his boots knocked against your sneakers under the table and when he looked at you with a smile that was all bitten lips and dimpled cheeks, you knew he really didn’t mind it at all.  

It still made him blush though, especially when you called him it all alone. ‘Cause you said it in a voice that was so much softer and sweeter, like you were saying it just for him. 

Eddie stayed impossibly still, more still than he’d ever been, just for you. You’d pulled him even closer, heads bent together, his curls brushing at your cheek as you carefully drew out your design. Eddie hugged out a quiet laugh when he realised what you were doodling, the dark, thin lines tickling at the inside of his forearm. 

But let you keep going, lips twisted into a fond smile and he wondered how he could keep the pen marks there forever, whilst simultaneously planning all the ways he could hide it from Steve and the other guys. They all laughed at Eddie when it came to you; the way you could make him flush, the way you could calm him down and make him softer and quieter. They all told Eddie he was whipped and well, the boy never argued. 

“There,” you whispered and Eddie could hear the smile in your voice despite the way he couldn’t see your face from the way you were still curled into him. “All done.”

You moved back, only slightly, back straightening and bracelets jingling as you took Eddie’s hand in your own and moved his arm under one of the dim lights. The little black lined teddy bear shone a little wetly under the glow, floppy limbed and one ear a little smaller than the other. 

You grinned, no, you beamed and Eddie’s heart stuttered and stopped at the sight. Your touch was so warm, hot against his skin and the boy was so sure that he’d never, ever get used to it. 

He grinned, tucking his lips between his teeth to try and control it, all flushed and pretty in the way he lit up for you. He knocked his shoulder to yours, curls tickling your bare shoulders. 

“Well shit, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered. “If that isn’t my new favourite tattoo.”

—————

It had been well over a month and Eddie Munson still hadn’t kissed you. 

You didn’t want to sound dramatic, but it was really ruining your life. Maybe not ruining it, but it was definitely making things difficult. ‘Cause more often than not, you spent time with Eddie alone and the boy still blushed when you smiled at him, tripped over his own feet when you let your dresses stretch up too high on your thighs and god, god, he let his gaze roam everywhere when he thought you weren’t looking. 

The air was a little thicker, heavier, warmer, when Eddie Munson was around. 

And now, you were in his bedroom, somewhere you’d started spending more and more time in. It had become easier to slip your shoes off and laze on his bed, always on top of the sheets and you always had to pay the space beside you before Eddie let himself fall down onto the mattress too. 

Music was playing, soft and fuzzy with static ‘cause the summer outside was a little too hot and the heat was fucking with the generator. Eddie was sprawled out beside you, his white t-shirt so threadbare and stretched out you could see the ink on his chest underneath. The day was warm enough for Eddie to pull his hair back, messy curls pulled into a haphazard bun, loose strands falling into his eyes as he pulled his rolling tray towards him. 

He was too busy licking a neat stripe along the paper to notice the way you were pushing yourself to your knees, head tilted to the side as you carefully studied the boy. He was painfully pretty, soft eyes, softer lips and all strong lines along his jaw, his nose, the slant of his high cheekbones. 

If you wanted to do this, you were going to have to do it soon. ‘Cause you wanted to be sober for this, Eddie too, and the boy was ready to slip the joint between his lips to light it and pass it to you. 

So you cleared your throat and tried not to fall off the bed when Eddie’s head shot up and he gasped at how close you were. The joint fell to the bed, forgotten and Eddie blinked, lips parted as he tried to not freak the fuck out. 

You had a new dress on, white with tiny cherries printed all over it, thin straps holding it up and Eddie had groaned at the sight of it when you first appeared at the van door. 

You were so, so close. You could count the freckles on Eddie’s cheeks, the tiny ones that dotted across the bridge of his nose and the more you looked, the more the boy blushed. You watched his skin turn rosy, brown eyes blinking at you, messy curls slipping out of the purple hair tie he most definitely stole from your wrist last week. 

“Wha—?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Silence. Shock and silence and awe and a painfully long pause. Eddie wondered if his heart was still beating. 

You sighed, pushed yourself a little closer still, knees pressed the mattress and when Eddie didn’t pull away, you let your hands rest on his knees and your gaze met his. 

“Do you not want to kiss me?” You asked and you were surprised at how brave you sounded, not a hint of shyness left in your voice and maybe that’s because you’d been so fucking sure that Eddie liked you. 

Like, liked you, liked you. 

Steve had said so. So had Dustin. Even Robin winked and smirked at you when Eddie entered the room. 

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you assured him softly, lip tucked between your teeth. You bit down on the skin there and huffed out a breath when Eddie’s gaze zeroed in on the way your tongue peeked out afterwards to soothe the sting. “I just— I just thought you wanted to.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just gasped at you for a second or two - although it felt like hours - pink lips pouted and his jaw slack.  He looked too pretty; genuinely, heartbreakingly pretty, with his tied up curls and flushed cheeks and the stretched out collar of his shirt that showed of skin and ink and freckles—

“I do, fuck, no, yeah— I do.”

The rejection that was curling into your stomach retreated and your head snapped back up. You stared at him, replaying his stuttering, stumbling words and you watched as the boy sucked in a deep, ragged breath. Then his wide hand was cupping your cheek, guitar string callouses rough against your jaw, fingers slipping your hair and he was pulling you forward as he moved in andandand—

The bed protested under your knees and Eddie’s, both of you colliding in the softest way possible. You met in the middle, you a little taller than the boy, ‘cause at the eleventh hour you’d gotten too impatient and pushed yourself up so you could grab at his face too. 

He was rough stubble underneath your palms, pliant for you, willing to go wherever you moved him to and he titled his head when you moved in and down, cheeks a pretty rose colour and his eyes fluttered shut when your lips touched his. 

Eddie was hesitant at first, just for a second or two, both of you adjusting to the feel of a new mouth against your own. But his lips were warm and soft and they tasted like smoke and the lemonade he’d been drinking, tart and sweet and like the summer outside. 

And you pushed yourself against him a little bit harder, one thumb stroking over the apple of a cheek and you let your bottom lip slip between his own. Eddie groaned then, a wicked sound, dirty and low and you felt it vibrate through his chest and yours. It made you squeeze your eyes shut a little tighter, made your breath catch in your throat and want to test the waters a little more.  

You let your tongue peek out, a slow, soft slide against the seam of his lips and he parted then for you with another pretty sound, a whimper that had your toes curling and without much warning, his hand dropped from your jaw to catch at your waist and you were being tugged onto his lap. 

You knew your dress was hitched up a little too high to be decent, but you didn’t really care. You gasped out at the contact, Eddie’s fingers gripping you on the edge of too tight, your legs splayed out over his thighs as he kissed you back with so much wanting that you thought you’d cry. 

It turned a little messy, a little desperate, tongues sliding, lips parted over each other as you both made dirty, little sounds they had both of your hips rocking towards each other. Your hands grabbed at the back of the boy's head and you whined at the curls that were tied away from your fingers, so you scratched at the nape of his neck instead, almost - almost - too rough, making the boy shudder and groan underneath you. 

And when you both pulled away for air, Eddie was all shades of pink, flushed cheeks, lips kiss bitten and rosy, pouty and a little swollen from where you’d been loving on him. His eyes were glassy, glazed over, jaw slack and the muscle there ticked once, twice when you pushed yourself further into his lap. His hands flew to your thighs, bare and almost too exposed, fingers curling around the doughy skin and you weren’t sure if he wanted you to stop or keep going. 

You were both panting, chests heaving and everything glittered now that Eddie Munson had finally kissed you. Dust motes sparkled in the sunlight that came through the gap in the curtains, the shades drawn to trap out the heat but my god, you were burning. 

And it was like you couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t keep your lips off of him now that you’d started and you leaned back in, hearing the way his breath caught in his throat. It made you feel bold, powerful, reckless, it made you feel absolutely fucking wrecked. 

You mouthed over his jawline, the sharp line of it covered by a rough stubble that hadn’t really been there that morning and Eddie moaned for you when you hit a little spot underneath his ear. You grinned, smiled against his skin and took the lobe between your teeth and nipped gently, sucked at it until he was fully shivering underneath you, grabbing at your thighs until you knew you’d have crescent moon shaped marks the next day. 

“Is that okay?” You asked him, voice impossibly soft, almost a little husky from the way he’d kissed you. “This alright, Teddy?”

His eyes almost rolled at the pet name, he couldn’t handle the sweetness of it, not with you in his lap with your pretty dress rucked up all indecently, your lips ghosting along the shell of his ear. 

But he nodded, weak, holding on for dear life when you sighed all prettily and kept up your touch. You kissed a line along his neck, mouthing and sucking at the strong column of his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed under your lips. You kissed a bruise into the crook, where his neck met his shoulder and you sucked and bit down until it was the prettiest shade of lavender you’d ever seen. 

When you pulled back, Eddie’s eyes were closed, lips parted and breath coming out in harsh pants. It was almost unfair and you could feel him underneath you, impossibly hard, thick and twitching every time you moved against him. 

So you slowed it all down, softened yourself, your kisses a little sweeter as you peppered them across his face. His cheeks, the tip of his nose, the soft skin of his eyelids, bottom lip sweeping over his lashes. You kissed the corner of his mouth, his chin, his forehead and onto his hairline, messy curls tickling your cheek. 

And the whole time you whispered to him, soft, pretty words that had him sighing and gasping with each touch of your lips. It was all too good, too much, too nice and Eddie wasn’t sure what this meant yet but he never wanted it to fucking end. 

“So pretty, Teddy,” your hand dragged down the length of his bicep, lithe muscles wrapped underneath ink and soft skin. “You’re just so pretty, y’know that?” Your thumb swept over the faded outline of the bear drawing you’d penned on him a week or two before and you smiled, tucked your face into his neck. 

“So pretty when you blush for me,” you whispered and god, Eddie was trying his best not to lose it. “All pink ‘n cute.”

You held his chin in your grasp, finger and thumb pressed gently there to bring his mouth back to yours and he complied happily. He sighed into you, sweet kisses turning into another slow, lazy make out session, the dirty flick of his tongue against yours making you squeeze your thighs over his. 

“Shy boy,” you murmured against his lips. “Or so I thought,” you hugged out a laugh when one brave hand moved from your thigh to your hip, brushing the curve of your ass underneath the fabric of your dress. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” Eddie groaned, forehead falling to rest against yours. “Babe, baby—”

You whined at that, let him push his mouth back to yours so he could kiss you again and it went on like that all afternoon, until the blue sky turned into a deep violet, until the stars blinked and Eddie had you pressed into his pillows, kissing his own line down your throat. It was dizzying, the way he nudged the strap of your dress out of his way with his nose, hands never leaving your sides, your hips, the dough of your ass. 

And when it all got too much and you both got too close to going too far, too quick, you slowed it back down with soft kisses and lazy touches. You were nose to nose on his messy bed, one of your legs hitched over his hip as he held you close and you were smiling, cheeks sore, eyes bright kinda smile. 

“Shy boy,” you told him again, nose scrunching when Eddie grinned at you and kissed it. He was still the prettiest shade of pink, but god, you’d never get tired of it. “My boy.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #UDWS10K

[homunculus-argument]

I know I've written a lot of "magic powers as a metaphor for neurodivergence/mental illness/etc"-posts before, but consider: An entire goddamn family that's got magical powers, but, like, undiagnosed.

A world where magical powers are something that's somewhat well-known, and though it's known they're not as uncommon as once thought, and that some people are born with a natural tendency for them, others may develop abilities after being exposed to magic, and while some people may figure out how to wield the little magical residue they have without aid, having strong magic in you that you haven't been trained to properly wield can and will Fucking Kill You. And there's a family with an insistence that there's no magic in their bloodline.

Like yeah, great-great-grandfather Thornskull was a great and powerful warlock, but we don't talk about that so that wasn't real and didn't happen. Random outbursts of Unexplained Phenomena are not caused by magic, surely you did something wrong and lied about it. Everyone has little accidental fires in the house every now and then, every other family is just better at managing and hiding it. One child of the family decides to rebel against their family's strong anti-magic stance and goes to an academy to become a wizard.

Standing in a classroom, practicing a spell of summoning fire, they attract the attention of a classmate going "hey how the fuck did you already figure that out, how did you learn to summon fire so fast", they don't know how to explain that they didn't just learn how to summon fire, but figured out how to do it on command, and how to make it stop at will. And the classmates will not accept "I don't know, it just happens" for an answer.

And it slowly sinks in that maybe having several childhood memories of walking in on your mother standing in the kitchen, uncontrollably vomiting outbursts of green flames, probably wasn't normal.

[bluberryfields]

"I want a proper apology."

The dramatic “apology dance”

In the entirety of Season 2, I think the “apology dance” scene is pretty close to my favorite.

The way Crowley walks in like he’s entering a stage in a packed theater.

The way Azi clearly sees him coming and fusses himself up to look extra focused on his work and not at all excited about Crowley’s return.

Crowley, noticing that Azi has yet to look at him, ramps up the drama by:

Whipping off his glasses (taking off his armor)

Response from Azi? Clears his throat and focuses harder on his work.

Time for Level 2 Drama, it seems.

Stalking over to the table (no sauntering here)

Tossing the glasses down (looks casual but absolutely isn’t)

Ringing that little bell (like a ceremonial gong signaling “this is fucking happening”)

Walking back into the rotunda where he has maximum visibility (also maximum vulnerability)

Azi now has no choice but to react, which he does by slowly looking up and over at Crowley, who looks like the human-shaped embodiment of dread.

Finally announcing “I’m back” like the bitchy customer who just yesterday had declared they were never shopping here again

I mean, wow. Amazing. Glorious.

Not to be outcunted, Azi just casually turns back to his work and practically hums, “Yes. I can see that.”

Damn, Aziraphale, did you take lessons in passive aggression from my mother?

Now Crowley groans in a way that I felt to my core and asks, “Do you want a big, ‘I think I said the wrong thing,’ sort of an apology, or can we take that as said?”

He averts his eyes until the last second because this probably feels more demeaning than begging Azi not to do his magic act at Warlock’s birthday part.

Still turned away, Azi replies in a tone that is a mix of hurt and guilt that makes me think this has been coming for awhile. "I'd like the apology actually." I bet you would, Angel.

Back to Crowley, he pauses to assess his options, takes a deep breath, and says the magic words: “You were right.” Also looks like he almost says something else but either doesn’t know what to say or doesn’t want to say it.

Oh wow, so convincing. Bravo.

Finally, Azi puts down his glasses and his work and turns to address Crowley. He is not happy.

“Not good enough. I want a proper apology.” Also, side note, but Michael Sheen’s voice here is just…yum.

Before Azi can finish, Crowley is so quick to reject this idea. “No.” with a shake of the head.

You're not winning this battle, Crowley, and you know it.

“With the little dance.” Azi’s voice perks up and his eyes brighten at the hope this will happen. Seize that opportunity!

Again, Crowley barely let’s the word “dance” come out before he tries to shut it down. “I don’t do the dance.” Nope, no sir, not this demon.

Oh no, now Azi’s anger joins the hurt and guilt for a vicious trifecta. “I did the ‘I was wrong’ dance in 1650, 1793, 1941…” each date being spat out with increasing amounts of venom.

Oh Crowley, you brought this on yourself, girl.

This non-apology combined with his “I'm sorry. I apologize. Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it. Work with me, I’m apologizing here. Yes? Good. Get in the car.” and I can see why Azi reacts to this the way he does.

Crowley knows he’s beaten and concedes with a “Fine!” that feels the very opposite of the word.

Okay so before the “proper apology” can begin, Azi gets up from his chair, straightens his waistcoat, and stands with his hands grasped in front of him like a proper gentleman. A properly petty gentleman.

Then the main attraction! Crowley, looking completely stone-faced, does “the little dance.”

It’s wonderful. He looks so silly and childish and graceful and mature. And god, that deep knee bend at the end? Amazing.

Also amazing is Crowley’s face when he says "Kay?” while bobbing his head and eyebrows back like a sassy rooster? *chef’s kiss*

For Azi’s part, god it is just a delicious mix of polite poker face and barely concealed thirst. I see your eyes scanning Crowley, drinking in that thin, dark Duke. That little dance will live in his head forever.

And that’s the signal to go back to normal! Crowley regains control and Azi falls back into the supporting role.

Long-term relationships are hard, yo.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable idiots #ineffable partners #apology dance #i want a proper apology #with the little dance #thirsty aziraphale #very nice indeed #thin dark duke #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #good omens gifs #good omens meta

[r00ib0s]

if your warlock doesn't want to kiss their warlock patron you're doing something wrong. bonus if they have the weirdest fucking relationship where you have no idea what is going on. also bonus if they want to kill each other at some point.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d #r00ib0s txt

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 50

part 1 | part 49 | ao3

cw: angst, canon-typical violence, period-typical homophobia

Steve gets the full story from Jeff later that night.

After Eddie and Wayne come out of the bathroom — after Eddie goes straight to his room and shuts the door without so much as a glance in Steve's direction, after Wayne clears his throat and suggests they all clear out and give the kid a night to cool off — Steve drags himself back to his trailer and paces for a while. Tries not to feel horribly rejected, which is...

It's fucking ridiculous, is what it is.

Stupid to be focusing on his own dumb feelings right now.

Eddie's the one with a pulverized face.

So anyway, Jeff. Steve dials his number, and it feels weird that he even has his number at all — weirder still that, of all the guys in Corroded Coffin, he and Jeff have the most in common. Makes sense, though; Jeff's the only one who likes professional sports even a little.

"Hello?" Jeff's nasal voice comes over the line.

He sounds like his usual self — doesn't sound like he got pummeled, at least. Steve paces a tighter circle, says, "Hey, man, it's Steve."

Jeff makes a clipped noise. "You saw Eddie then?"

Furious heat crawls up the back of Steve’s neck, the image swimming red in his tunneled vision: the welt under Eddie's eye, the blood blooming on his chin. Someone did that to him.

Someone who needs to fucking pay for it.

“Yeah,” he seethes, trying to keep his voice down. “What the hell happened?"

Jeff sighs; launches into the vague version of events that he's allowed to tell — the version with no names and no identifying details, because Eddie made them swear not to tell Steve who was responsible.

"Sorry, man," he says when Steve presses for the third time; sounds like he means it, too. "Eddie seems to think you'd just land yourself in big boy jail if you knew, so…”

Steve clenches his jaw, his fists. Imagines fresh blood against his knuckles, how good it would feel to slam them into someone’s face; has a flashback of Billy Hargrove pinning him to a kitchen floor, laughing maniacally while his world went dull and dim.

…Goddammit. “He’s not wrong.”

So Steve listens, silent and helpless while Jeff tells him as much as he can about the mounting Satanic panic: how the townspeople are still grieving everyone who died last summer, how that grief is turning to paranoia, conspiracies about the destruction of the hospital and the fire at the mall, and now there are all these news articles coming out, whipping churchgoers into a frenzy over the queers and the occult, and the end result of all of it is that Eddie gets his ass beat in the alley behind a shitty dive bar.

All for having the nerve to wear a Black Sabbath shirt in public.

“Eddie said they stole something?” Steve prompts after a short silence.

"His amp,” Jeff says, and Steve sags in relief. At least it wasn’t the Warlock. He can replace an amp no problem. “They stole our fucking tip jar, too. Not there was much in it, man, but still.”

Fuckers, Steve thinks.

"Fuckers," Jeff spits, then sighs, "so much for being Christ-like, or whatever."

Steve chews his lip. Fiddles with his nails, hoping to work out a way to get Jeff to give him names. He only knows one name that comes to mind, but he can’t just go pummeling people on a hunch.

“If you ask me again,” Jeff says, “I’m hanging up.”

Well, damn. He slouches back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. "The rest of you are alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good. We were loading the van when it happened.” Another short, derisive sound. “Of course they waited to corner him when he was alone."

"So they planned this," Steve says, and the name in his head is practically flashing on a marquee. Jason Carver and his lackeys at that party back in November. The back of Jason’s head at the midnight mass they snuck into. Is this freak bothering you?

Steve’s voice is a lethal whisper. "Do you think they'll do it again?"

"Steve—"

“Do,” he repeats, “you think” —Hopper’s ghost in his mouth, authoritative and slow— “they'll do it again?"

Jeff lets out a long breath, his words wobbly with nerves. "I don't know, dude. Probably not? One of them looked pretty freaked out by how messed up Eddie's eye was."

Steve tastes blood in his mouth.

Fucking better have.

Another silence falls, rustling and static sounds, and Jeff hesitates. "Listen, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing, just... Well. Eddie can get a little, um. A little weird, about people seeing him be, like, vulnerable and shit. So. Just a heads up."

Weird like hiding from his boyfriend? the petty part of Steve’s brain supplies. Weird like shutting his door without saying goodbye?

He tamps down hard on the hurt that bubbles up at the reminder, because—

Because Eddie’s seen him at his most pathetic too many times to count. Has seen him blubbering and soft and desperate for comfort; has offered it so eagerly without judgment or thought. And if Steve can’t do the same now, if Eddie thinks there’s shame to be found in it, then that means— that means…

He swallows the glass shard in his throat. “Thanks for the warning, man. For real.”

—

part 51

holy shit i can’t believe i wrote 50 parts of this

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #corroded coffin #my writing #my fic

[kitchenisking]

Sterek Fic Rec

Second night of chunnuka!

As it Should Be by KuroKitty (HaleYes) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7,240, sterek)

Stiles comes home from his 18th birthday party at the bowling alley to find a surprise waiting for him in his room.

Or, the one where Derek has no chill.

Daddy. by Krose_16 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,430, sterek)

Stiles smells like someone else. A certain alpha doesn't like it.

Daddy's Boy by Snare - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,822, sterek)

Stiles has been blushing around him all week, sputtering and cheeks going red. It’s only after a pack meeting when Derek finally sees the soft pink lace peaking out from under his waistband.

you're still you by EvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 7,292, sterek)

[excerpt] Stiles takes a deep breath and follows the pull of their bond to the kitchen. He stops short when he sees Derek sitting at the table. His brows are furrowed with worry and his eyes are closed. But that’s not what makes Stiles’s heart skips a beat.

No, it’s the fact that Derek, his thirty-two-year-old husband, looks half his age now. As in literally half his age. There’s no way that the man sitting in front of him is older than sixteen.

“What the fuck?” Stiles blurts out, and Derek’s eyes shoot open, the chair clattering back as he stands as if Stiles surprised him. And that just goes to show that something is seriously wrong because Stiles has only ever been able to do that when Derek’s stressed and lost in thought. “What the hell happened?”

…or the murder husbands fic that’s mostly sweet while bby Derek takes care of his pregnant mate.

Neither Here Nor There by FelOllie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7,083, sterek)

"Yeah." Stiles ran a hand through hair he hadn't washed in days, not since he'd come home from his dad's to find the loft littered with shotgun shells, black blood staining the floor and the heavy scent of wolfsbane cloyingly thick in the air, with Derek nowhere to be found. "We'll get him back. But..."

"What?" Scott asked, crossing the floor to stand before Stiles, lifting a comforting hand to his best friend's shoulder.

Stiles met Scott's eyes, his own orbs glittering with terrified tears. "What if he's just ash by then?"

Bright by thedevilyousay  - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 4,102, sterek)

"The strongest warlock in all the land uses his power to constantly kidnap the princess. Most people believe it’s because he’s in love with her, but they have it all wrong. He’s in love with the knight who always comes to save her."

or

Allison finally lets out all the air that’s been trapped in her lungs to giggle, a noise she quickly tries to cover with her hand. This is all too much though, honestly. Stiles isn’t even dressed, Derek has no idea that the mage only does this to see him, and she suddenly can’t remember if she took the kettle off the fire in Stiles kitchen before walking out here to greet her Knight. She tries to gather herself before she speaks.

Nothing Gory Means No Glory (but baby please don't bore me) by DefNotForWork - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,537, sterek)

“I don’t like them touching you,” he rumbled. “I don’t want anyone else touching you.” He leaned forward, and Stiles’ eyes went wide, thinking for one crazy second that the wolf might be leaning in for a kiss. He stood, frozen in place as Derek pressed in close, chest to chest, dragging his nose and then his stubbly cheek against the corner of Stiles’ slack, shocked mouth, down over his jaw and then to his neck. Stiles recognized it as scenting, but damn did it feel like so much more.

Or

Stiles puts himself in the way of a succubus, gets munched on, Derek talks about his feelings, and then they find true love. Not strictly in that order.

At Peace by RisingQueen2 (FallenQueen2) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,801, sterek)

Stiles spies Derek looking adorably soft and can’t help but go to him.

The End is the Beginning by AClosedFicIsNeverRead - (Rating: Mature, Words: 6,496, sterek)

When Chris returned to the living room, rifle in hand, Stiles – God help him – looked so relieved. 

“Thank you,” Stiles sighed. He sat up and closed his eyes, trying to hold himself somewhat still as he waited to die.

Chris clenched his jaw. Raised his rifle. Aimed with tearful eyes. And pulled the trigger. 

- OR - 

The one where Stiles is bitten and left for dead by a rogue Alpha without anyone knowing, becomes increasingly unstable, and asks Chris Argent to put him down. It doesn't go the way he expected it would...

let the tension seep from your bones by To_fill_the_sea - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,510, sterek)

Derek comes home from tracking a rogue alpha that was encroaching on his territory and threatening his town. When he finally fixes the problem and comes back home he finds Stiles crying in the shower. He then does what he can to soothe and help him.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #ficrec #fanfic

[radiance1]

Vlad owned a cookbook.

Keyword, owned.

But you see, it was far from an ordinary cookbook.

It was a bit magical in nature, not on any purpose of Vlad's part, despite being the one to make it. It was created a while after Vlad stopped having an obsession with Maddie and became on somewhat better terms with Jack, in which he decided to entirely ignore one Daniel Fenton.

Instead, he focused on creating the perfect cookbook that has ever graced the mortal plane. Made from the highest leather, the best finest paper and bound together with the best thread he could find.

All helpfully sourced from the Ghost Zone.

Of course, after all of that he had to, well, fill it with recipes.

He had multiple duplicates scouring the internet for various recipes, and since it's for personal use he doesn't have to care for copyright or whatever since it won't be used by anyone but him. While also looking around in the Ghost Zone for specific types of ghosts.

Mostly grannies.

Overtime and with help from his multiple duplicates his cookbook has quickly become filled up, though for some reason there seemed to be an endless number of pages left unfinished, doesn't matter since it's just more space.

Then he started to encounter the spirits of witches, wizards, warlocks, shamans. You get it.

He took recipes from them too, because when he meant this would be the greatest cookbook, he meant it, and what is potion making if not Alchemy, and what is Alchemy if not cooking?

So, after some time, with blood, sweat, and tears being poured into his book with recipes from everywhere and his own personal recipe along with few decorations here and there, making it look less like a common book and more like the prized treasure it truly is, and Vlad's work is finally complete.

The greatest cookbook to ever grace the mortal plane.

He went to sleep happy, woke up the next day happy, used his newfound cookbook happily and was overall having the greatest of times.

He also found out that his cookbook became sentient. Which is nice, because he can just call out a page and it'll flip right through to it, but he doesn't recall how it became sentient.

He's been watching it carefully before completion, and every time it came in contact with ectoplasm it never became sentient like the food the Fentons produce (And yes, living food is indeed within the endless pages of his book), so it maybe had something to do with the more magical recipes contained within.

Not that he cared, really, since it served it's purpose extremely well.

Except, a few months later, with a visit from the Fentons to his mansion, he finds he lost it.

Vlad, predictably, is in shambles.

Is it because his cookbook is a genuine danger to society if in the wrong hands?

No.

Perhaps because contained within its pages are high level alchemical recipes?

No.

Or maybe because there was a recipe to create some kind of potion to kill an immortal, make someone immortal, or reverse death? (Honestly he didn't even remember where he got that one)

Fuck no.

He's in shambles because he didn't even get to use a quarter of the recipes that weren't even his own.

Also, because it's became his technical technically both his son and best friend.

Who does he accuse first?

One Danny Fenton.

Because it only disappeared after Danny came to visit, and while he wouldn't put it past Jack to do something incredibly stupid, the man was nowhere near his book at the time!

Danny, predictably, is not at all amused.

Vlad then pesters him to go out and search for his missing greatest creation and doesn't stop until Danny agrees.

So, now Danny has to find a cookbook that can and probably is a genuine danger to society if someone decides to use the far less than normal recipes.

Also, why the fuck did Vlad even have them??

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Hmmm #I could already feel some people tagging this as Ghost King Danny since that's a really popular hc #or maybe not #Anywho #I was going to refute that hc but now I'm genuinely considering it #Mah #I'll leave it up to whoever finds this post #Right #Did I mention that Vlad's Cookbook may or may not have a recipe to create #both a false and genuine god? #Teehee #You won't even know if I'm being serious or not

[dawnbreakersgaze]

NOPE

NO

NO THANK YOU

I don't like the way those are lining up AT ALL.

"Broken free of the shackles of natural law"

We've heard/seen Zayne be referenced as "shackled" at least 3 times before at this point. By Raymond, by the 'Narrator' ("remains shackled to time"), and in reference to the Foreseer myth. This makes the 4th. I genuinely hurt every single time the story so heavy handidly reminds me that Zayne really is a dog on a chain. The Foreseer robes even have a LITERAL collar of thorns over the neck of it ffs. It's painful to watch at this point and it breaks my heart.

"Why persuade Zayne? What he really needs is a pair of hands. Ones that can carry out God's mission and allow for God's descent."

Between this, and the one below of-

"At least he has another option. His last one"

I'm torn on which one is referencing Astra. On one hand, Astra really could be a modern made "God". An elevated man of great power, someone Zayne turned to in his 11th hour to try and save MC (though we all know how that turned out, unfortunately). It would seem that Xander Sciences is playing at God, and if we know anything about the sci-fi scene, it's that human experimentation ALWAYS ends up going ~soooo well~ and nothing ever goes wrong there 👀

On the other hand, the "last option" really gets my gut feeling going. My theorist brain is telling me Zayne is gonna go full Warlock pact and make a deal with an entity in exchange for MC's life. Only it's gonna go tits up and be a Fey pact, and because we all know how MC and he end up, clearly Zayne did NOT read the fine print (or more likely, Zayne thought he could out maneuver the rules). Ever since I read the Mt Eternal anecdote and realized the Tower and Mt Eternal are in the same location, I could not shake the feeling that Zayne already has made contact with whatever "Astra" is. Be it a very powerful person, an actual God, or someone else entirely different (like another time traveler, such as Xavier and the backtrackers). We know he's traveling back there multiple times by himself, conducting research of an unknown variety, that only he and Dr. Noah are privy to. I'm just saying if ever there was a cover up for having contact with a supernatural being/aliens/a God, that's a really fucking good one.

Whatever it is, this new lore drop has really really spelled out in big bold letters, that Zayne is thought of as a tool by a LOT of people. Xander Sciences, Astra, even the Dean of the medical academy had a moment there. My poor man even thinks of himself as a tool, one that is meant to save MC (from himself he even says at one point 😭😭😭 like oh my God Zayne stoppppp). He literally considers himself expendable so long as he saves her. Once he's done his job and secured her future, even if that means passing on the ability to save her to someone else, he's fine laying down his life for that.

And that's seriously the saddest part of this whole fucking game imo.

#lnds #love and deepspace #zayne #lads #l&ds #love & deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lore and theories #i'll revisit this tomorrow but it's 4 am and my brain is buzzing with way too much information #i need to re-read everything 10× to make sure im understanding it all ACK