Helena! I'm so excited for blurb night! And because you predicted correctly, I'm gonna lead with a request for historical EPB x Immy + "my soul just wants to be closer to yours." I'm imagining it in my mind's eye and I'm yearning, I swear. 🥰
Hope this helps flex your writing muscles!
Rebecca, this prompt is so damn good for these two. Not only are we yearning in this, but we are also in pain because Victorian Era society is so restrictive. I hate this for our favorite lady and her beloved professor. Enjoy!
BLURB NIGHT MASTERLIST
The scent of roses hits her nostrils as a night breeze blows through the garden and she hugs herself tighter, trying to stay warm. Her toes grow cold as the dew-covered grass wet her thin slippers, but she ignores for the sake of fresh air and her sanity. Anything to get out of that stifling house and her looming engagement.
When her father told her the duke had asked for her hand, she’d excused herself and wept in her room for nearly an hour. She should have been thrilled, excited even. But she’s not. The duke is not and never will be him.
“Lady Imogen.” She knows that voice, deep and gravely, sending a chill down her spine that has nothing to do with the chilly August night.
Imogen peers left and finds the Professor Floyd standing a few short paces away, keeping a respectful distance lest someone should see them and gossip. “Professor,” she greets with a tight smile. She’s still an Earl’s daughter. Soon, she will be a duchess.
“Are you alright, my lady?”
She hates the formality. Hates that this is all they can ever be, bound to dance around each other. The wall of society stands between them, but the fondness she sees in his eyes and the aching affection in hers is not enough. They can never be together.
“No,” she whispers and turns toward him, the hem of her dressing gown collecting dew from the grass. “No, I am not.” Her voice is stronger, more self-assured this time.
“My lady.” His voice is so gentle she hardly hears him. In a few long strides, he’s standing in front of her with his mussed hair from trying and failing to fall asleep. She longs to reach up and brush the stray curl away from his forehead.
Instead, she squares her shoulders and remembers the lessons her governess taught her as a child. “Leave me be, Professor,” she mutters. She can’t look him in the eyes knowing this will break both their hearts because he may not have uttered the words, but they both know them to be true.
“I can’t.” His ungloved hands cup her cold cheeks and she leans into his soft touch, savoring the moment of his skin on hers.
Raising her own hands, they cover his and remove them. “You must,” she pleads.
She tries to let him go, but he keeps hold of her hands. “I can’t,” he repeats, words more forceful than before. “I can’t, Imogen,” he insists. “My soul just wants to be closer to yours. I don’t think I could stop it even if I wanted to.”
Tears prickle behind her eyes. “Robert, please.” She longs to give in, to get lost in him and the firm grip he still has on her hands. But she can’t, so she pulls away from his warm touch and steps out of his embrace. Her next words will haunt both of them.
“The duke asked for my hand.”
Time stops. They’re frozen, eyes locked. Two hearts breaking on a cold and clear night.
S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?)
neighbor!Bob loves nothing more than morning sex. Enjoying the cozy, soft light through the curtains while watching you sleep, wrapped up in his comforter. He just can't resist pressing his lips to every inch of skin available while his hips rut into you, not so subtly trying to nudge you awake.
And afterwards he'll make you a terrible cup of coffee and bring it to you in bed. Which inevitably leads to him between your thighs as an apology.
Morning sex usually turns into an all-day thing...
Professor Floyd wears glasses, but they always slip and he's constantly having to push them up his nose. I know it sounds innocuous, but I'm thinking of it up close and slo-mo like the weirdo I am!
the thought of you watching him as he grades papers. the glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, ever so gently. his eyes flicking up to yours as he pushes them up. i'M SCREAMING REBECCA!!!
i'm also thinking you him late night grading poems and papers. his eyes are starting to ache from so much reading and the way he takes them off, holding them in his hand for a moment before setting them on his desk
Well, OKAY, if you insist I send you another prompt...hows about "tummy kisses" for Professor Bob + Imogen because, oh, it's simply everything. 🥹 ✨
My darling Rebecca, I love writing these little blurbs that don't really serve a bigger purpose in the story, so please, send as many as you like. Tummy kisses for Bob and Imogen coming right up! Enjoy this ~450 word blurb ✨
kiss prompts
open for: professor bob, librarian bob, mob boss bob, and rhett abbott
Imogen wakes in an empty bed.
Pale morning light comes through the gaps in the curtains, casting small beams against the walls, and his side of the bed is empty and cold to the touch.
She frowns. He’s always there when she wakes up, holding her against his chest while his breath tickles her neck. She loves waking up with him, wrapped in his warm and strong embrace.
Turning over, she reaches for her phone to check the time. 6:42 am. She puts the phone back on the table and sits up, holding the sheets against her chest.
“Robert?”
The door to the ensuite bathroom opens, and Imogen lets out an undignified yelp, nearly jumping out of her own skin. Bob is standing in the doorway with wet hair, wearing only black boxers, and she’ll never get over how broad and toned his chest is under all those sweaters he usually wears.
“You called?”
Her heart’s still racing, but she cocks her head. “I can just call and you’ll come?”
“It depends.”
He closes the bathroom door and crosses the room, stopping at the foot of the bed. There’s a mischievous look in his eyes and a barely there smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“On what?” she asks, crawling out from under the covers and rising to her knees. She comes to him, placing her hands on his shoulders while he gently puts his hands on her waist.
“If you behave.”
She leans close. “You gonna teach me a lesson, professor?”
His eyes darken, and before she can even blink, he has her pinned to the bed. He looks at her like he’s starving and she’s his next meal. She doesn’t hate it, loves that she does this to him.
“You’re a minx,” he says, voice an octave deeper than normal, and it makes her writhe underneath him, rubbing her thighs together. “A tease,” he whispers against her neck.
Her breathing quickens as he crawls further down her naked body, and shudders when his nose grazes her navel. He hums as he presses wet kisses against her abdomen.
“So soft,” he mumbles, continuing to kiss along the edge of her ribs and the soft tissue of her stomach. “All mine.”
She’s breathless, lost in the feeling of him, but craving more. Her hands find his hair and he groans into her skin when she pulls on it.
He lifts his head, resting his chin on her belly. “What do you want, baby?”
🏜️ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?
🐝 tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them
Thanks for asking, love!
🏜️ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?
Literally any comment? Jokes aside, I love when comments show the person has actually read the fic. I love when readers try to predict what might happen next or try to find out what a character meant when they said a certain thing. It's so much fun to get those comments. I also adore getting comments about my writing style!
🐝 tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them
You, of course, but also @attapullman, @bobgasm, @blue-aconite, @sorchathered, @withahappyrefrain, and so many more. Like I can't put into words how much this community and these people mean to me. You are all wonderful and kind, and I'm so grateful to have you as readers and friends alike. I would not still be writing for this fandom if it weren't for you. So thank you.
"I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep." -> because it SCREAMS eccentric Professor!Bob, Helena! ✨
Rebecca, you and I are on the same wavelength when it comes to this man because I have the perfect idea. Let's go!
He finds Imogen exactly how he left her several hours ago. She's sitting behind the desk in his home office, glasses halfway down her nose, typing furiously on her laptop.
"Darling," he says quietly and walks to the desk. "Come to bed."
Looking up from the screen, her brow furrows. "I'm in the zone," she argues. "I don't need sleep."
She's been working on her dissertation nonstop for days, barely eating or sleeping. One of the things he loves most about her is her dedication, but she's not taking care of her, and that's usually his territory.
Her attention returns to the laptop, and it's like he's not even there anymore. The cup of tea he brought for her hours ago that he hoped would help her relax has gone untouched, and her hair looks like it could use a brush through.
"Imogen, it's not a request," he says, his voice authoritative. "It's a demand."
"I'll be there in a few minutes," she mumbles dismissively without even a glance at him.
"No, you won't." He closes the lid on her laptop. "You're coming now."
"Bob!" She opens the laptop again. "I could lose all my work."
He's had enough.
He forces the lid closed once more and pulls the desk chair back before she can reach for it again. Placing himself between the desk and her in the chair, he grabs onto the armrests and looks her straight in the eye.
"I'm gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep." His tone leaves no room for argument, and he sees the moment she surrenders on her face.
He also sees the mischief.
She quirks a brow, and her mouth turns up in a smug smirk. "Is that a challenge, Professor?"
Leaning closer until he feels her breath on his skin. "Damn right it is."
"I." Kiss. "Don't." Kiss. "Need." Kiss. "Sleep." Kiss.
"That's it," he mutters, hauling her out of the chair and throws her over his shoulder. "You're coming to bed with me, you little brat."
