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kaiwewi · 1 month ago

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Their First Villain

Secret Santa gift for @the-modern-typewriter Prompt: "Scary villain x hero in a Christmas setting of your [the writer's] choice. Could go spicy, could go whumpy, could go unexpectedly sweet!" Hope you like this! Merry Christmas!! 🎅🎁

“You recognised me,” the villain observes, his tone unnaturally flat. His face betrays no emotion.

“Kinda hard not to, with your…” – the hero tilts their head at where the villain’s magic continues to spread, coiling around their limbs and securely fixing them in place – “…snake thingies?”

The individual tendrils really do vaguely resemble snakes, although the magic in its entirety reminds them more of some writhing alien monster plant from an old Sci-fi B-movie whose title they cannot remember. It’s not a good comparison anyway. The movie hadn’t been scary at all.

They experimentally try to wrestle one of their arms free, but despite the magic’s apparent fluidity, the moment they push or pull in any direction, whatever give appeared to be there all but disappears and they can’t move a millimetre.

“Oh.” The villain’s eyes widen. “You can see it.”

“See it. Feel it. Didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

An awkward pause follows.

They are decidedly not blushing. It’s just warm. All of them is so warm now that the villain’s powers have moulded themselves around the hero like something liquid but alive. Wherever the tendrils touch bare skin – their ungloved hands and that area just above their ankles where their pants don’t quite meet the rims of their boots – the raw energy buzzes, prickles just short of stinging.

They’d been shivering just minutes ago in their much too thin poncho and the not seasonally appropriate Agency office uniform. Well, they still are shivering, just no longer from the cold.

Where the villain’s magic is fever-hot, his scrutiny runs icy.

“You can see it, but not fight it,” he muses. “How curious. The Agency must be understaffed to send their defenceless little office drones out into the field.”

The hero would be glaring if the villain weren’t underscoring the point by pulling his magic tighter with the mere flick of a finger. That small, anxious sound that escapes them in response brings a self-satisfied grin to the villain’s lips.

“It’s Christmas,” the hero says, once the magic has settled again.

The villain raises a brow.

“Most of the regulars are on holiday, Christmas being a time best spent with family … or so I’m told.”

“Yet you are working.”

“Don’t have anyone.” They aren’t technically without family just … Sometimes, family isn’t a place of refuge and welcome. Not a home to turn to for holiday celebrations or company. Some families fashion themselves exclusive clubs with strict rules that refuse or revoke memberships as they please. The hero forces some levity into their tone. “I have nowhere else to be today, so, I’m helping out here.”

The villain chuckles. “Helping is perhaps not what I would call that.”

“Hey, I did recognise you,” they say, defensively.

“And look where that got you.” His smile is sharper than before, meaner. “Am I your first villain? My heartfelt condolences.”

They don’t dignify that with an answer. But the answer is yes. The villains they watched being interrogated through one-way mirrors at HQ don't count.

“Pity,” the villain says with zero warmth, “that you couldn’t just look the other way. What is it with you people that you're always so eager to cause unnecessary conflict.”

“Reporting suspicious behaviour is kind of my job.” It comes out barely above a whisper and carries the distinct cadence of an apology.

“Ah yes, and my mere existence struck you as suspicious behaviour because …”

Admittedly, once they’d recognised the villain, they hadn’t taken the time to consider his appearance beyond the magic he’d been wearing around his shoulders like a particularly weaponizable scarf. The lack of a combat suit in favour of a sleek, dark coat over a woollen jumper and cargo joggers – either an outfit designed to blend in or just what the villain happens to like to wear when he isn’t working – hadn’t registered any more than the total absence of weaponry other than his powers. And while he could have hidden those better, it’s not like he could have simply left them at home.

There hadn’t been time to ponder. It had all happened so fast. Their eyes had met, and a moment later the hero had already been scrambling away from the crowd, past a stall selling mulled wine and into the nearest alley, where they’d scrolled through their contacts with stiff, unfeeling fingers. The villain had caught up with them before they’d managed to call for backup.

Their gaze darts to the remnants of their smashed phone, sprinkled across the muddy snow, mere metres away but entirely useless even if they could reach it.

What if the villain hadn’t had anything nefarious planned? What if the hero’s brain had naturally jumped to the most prejudiced conclusion all on its own?

Of course, it is unfair to treat his mere presence as if it is a crime. But the things he could do ...

They think about the parents with their cameras, filming their ice-skating children, the squealing toddlers on the merry-go-round, the nice old ladies selling tea out of the back of a car.

“You could be a danger to all those innocent people,” they defend their judgement.

“And you could be a danger to me,” the villain replies coolly. “Would be unwise, letting someone roam free who can pick me out of a crowd with a glance. Perhaps I should thank you for revealing yourself. Very ill-advised. But quite convenient. You were so obvious about it, too.”

He has crossed the distance between them while speaking. Close enough now to reach out and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind their ear with his cold, slender fingers. His other hand settles almost gently on their throat, atop the magic that has slivered around their neck at some point during the conversation.

The tip of a new tendril is in the process of worming its way lower, nestling into the collar of their shirt. It laps against the crook of their neck and they cringe away from the touch as much as the magic allows. It doesn’t hurt. It would be so much easier if it did. The touch is light; it kind of tickles and, given the overall direness of the situation, the hero really isn’t in the mood for that. Or, they shouldn’t be.

Unhelpfully, their traitorous mind supplies them with a thoroughly inappropriate image of what else someone who isn’t the enemy could be doing to them with magic such as this.

“Tell me,” the villain says as the power shifts upwards, tilting their chin back with the movement, so his nails can bite into the newly exposed skin below their jaw, “is there anything else troublesome about you, or is it just the eyes?”

He looks most pleased when their breath hitches despite their best efforts to remain stoic. His grip tightens. He’s studying them intently, staring at their eyes like those are priced gems he considers adding to his collection.

Maybe, underneath the mockery, he actually does consider them somewhat of a threat. If he didn’t, why would he be looking at them like that.

It’s stupid, truly and utterly stupid, to feel flattered. This is not respect, they know, just sharp, calculating consideration. His attention promises imminent danger, might turn lethal at any second. It’s not something they should revel in. Still, it feels good, too – being seen.

Has anyone ever really seen them before?

Or perhaps that is the lack of oxygen speaking.

They struggle to focus their vision but all the twinkling Christmas lights in the trees are starting to smudge into dull, red and golden blurs. Vertigo is clawing at them.

There is absolutely nothing they can do against the villain's grip. They're so pitifully out of their depth.

They think about their bland, only half-furnished two-room apartment; their first day at the Agency HQ; their nth day – no more eventful than the first – sitting at the exact same desk in the exact same office and working on the exact same old computer; their colleagues’ looks of pity when their 14th application for a transfer to field work is being denied and their boss tells them, in stern admonishment, that their skill sets just aren’t suited to solo missions. They think about her condescending smile when she finally does assign them the Christmas market job, clearly convinced the worst thing that could possibly happen here is people getting drunk enough on punch to start throwing punches.

They think of their first split-second impression of the villain as just another guy standing by the ice rink with a cup of something steaming in his hands and a mellow, unguarded smile curving his lips.

They hope this montage doesn’t count as their life flashing before their eyes. It’s way too sad a summary of their depressing lack of accomplishments.

They think, with equal parts age-old bitterness and new-found sarcastic vindication, about their colleagues’ infantile, unofficial, end-of-the-year office rankings where flashier heroes with more impressive abilities always receive titles such as most likely to hook up with a hot reporter or most epic battle or best one-liners.

Meanwhile, all the hero has to show for are three consecutive wins of least likely to die on the job.

Which might have been a reassuring sentiment if it weren’t so clearly code for “you’ll never be a real hero”. Real heroes risk their lives on the job all the time.

Well, look at them now!

Will their colleagues manage to come up with a new title for them in time, they wonder, if the villain kills them now, just a week before this year’s poll results will be released?

Most unexpected death has a nice ring to it.

They should be trembling in terror. Might have, if the villain’s magic weren’t encasing them so – tight but soft and deceptively warm, lulling them in. The sticky heat of it leaves them squirming, stuck in a confusing limbo between gooey not-quite-discomfort and hot-bath sluggishness.

They’re drifting. Until they’re not.

It’s impossible to discern how much time has passed or when exactly the villain has released them; but their thoughts are beginning to clear and their brain catches up to the fact that there is air in their lungs again, and that the breathless, hiccuping gasps uncontrollably tumbling out of their mouth aren’t sobs. It’s laughter.

“Are you enjoying this?” The villain sounds incredulous.

They shake their head. “I don’t know,” they manage, between hysterical giggles. “Maybe. Yes?”

“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?”

“I didn’t.”

That startles a short laugh out of him.

“I’ve never” – they pant, still struggling for air – “felt this alive before.”

“That sounds ... unhealthy.”

There is a long pause in which the villain silently stares at them while they are more or less regaining control over their breathing.

“You wouldn’t get it,” they say then, perfectly aware they must seem most unhinged. “Bet you don't even know what boredom is. Because your life is fun. Mine is not. I practically live at my stupid job, and my stupid job doesn't even pay well. No one there gives a fuck about me. And nothing exciting ever happens. So can I please just have this one damn moment without being judged?”

The villain hums, low. “And here I thought we were ruining each other’s days.” He presses a hand to their forehead. “Did the heat fry your synapses?” he asks, sounding more amused than concerned. His other hand comes up to cup the nape of their neck, as if he can’t help but reach out. Just as they can’t help but lean into the cooling touch. His gaze drops, as if drawn, to their lips. “Or, are you just naturally this unusual?”

They can smell gingerbread and mulled wine on his breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” they ask, because yes their synapses are definitely fried and they do not care about consequences, awkwardness, or sanity anymore.

“Would you like me to kiss you?”

“I’d certainly much rather be kissed than killed. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he repeats, smirking. “But we've established I’m not about to kill you. And that wasn’t a yes.”

“It’s not a no either.”

“Not how consent works, darling.”

They scoff. “You didn’t ask for consent first when you strangled me five minutes ago.”

The villain laughs again, in genuine delight judging by how his magic ripples and purrs.

“Okay, fair enough,” he whispers, shifting so his lips almost brush theirs.

The kiss that follows is sweet, surprisingly chaste, and initiated by the hero.

“So, since you mentioned earlier you have nowhere else to be today,” the villain says, afterwards, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Have you ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped?”

Pleasure, as it turns out over the course of the next few hours, is an understatement.

If anyone at the office were to find out what the hero has been up to during their first (and best) and possibly only solo field mission, not only are they guaranteed to get fired, their colleagues will also surely create an entirely new office ranking category in their honour:

First to be seduced by a supervillain.

#secret santa #secret santa snippets #secretsantasnippets2024 #the-modern-typewriter #merry christmas #heroes and villains #hero x villain #scary villain x inexperienced hero #snippet #writing snippet #writeblr

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hivemuthur · 14 days ago

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kinda smutty but basically viktor x reader kinda modern au where he has to go to an event later, but reader distracts him by bringing him to bed and making out. eventually leads to multiple hickeys on his neck (i just know this man’s skin would bruise easily) which then leads to rushed makeup haul to find something that matches him to cover up. i love love love love love love love love love love love love love your writing! it’s so good!

Hi Anon! I see we share a common obsession with Viktor's neck. You match my freak.

Cuteness Aggression

viktorxgn!reader mature! kissing, or rather making out, slight dry humping and dirty talk

author’s note: Sue makes a cameo (or rather is mentioned in this fic), because I wanted it to be as inclusive as possible, therefore I am not mentioning Reader's skin tone. Other than that, it's just lovebombing fluff. Also heeh, it has a tiny bit of playful wrestling, because I am an inconsistent twat. Viktor's scent for this fic is: Hyde by Hiram Green.

word count: 2,1K

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“Why are you looking at me like this?”

Viktor’s voice snapped you out of the wanderings of your deranged mind. Oh, and did your mind wander. It snaked itself beneath the leg of his woollen trousers, hugging his tiny ass so nicely. Then up, up his sleeve to place an imaginary kiss on the vein in the crook of his elbow and lick his stomach right where the belt would inevitably leave a dent in the skin.

Then, your imaginary tongue travelled up, making a stop at every freckle, only to leave a nasty bite mark somewhere in the middle of his chest. And maybe on his neck as well. Which was now flexing proudly from the V-shaped collar of his sweater, the tiniest bit of white shirt peeking from underneath it. A dark brown coat on top, framing him into a model example of someone who just looks effortlessly good.

You were kneeling on the bed, ogling him shamelessly, Viktor’s eyes pensive on you as he tried to squeeze the verdict out of your agape mouth. “Well? My eyes are up here, I will remind you.”

“I, uh…” you mumbled stupidly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “Yes, that looks good.” Eyes still fixed on him, because you forgot how to blink.

“I feel like I should change into something less slutty if this is your reaction. We wouldn’t want people at the charity gala throwing themselves at me, would we?” He smirked, looking at his nails nonchalantly, and suddenly you realised your face was burning.

“God, sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly and hid your face in your palms. “I just haven’t seen you all dressed up in a while.”

“No, no need to be sorry, I am immensely enjoying this, if you couldn’t tell by now,” he said smugly, shaking his coat off and throwing it over a chair. “I would take massive advantage of it if Jayce wasn’t picking me up in half an hour.” He took a couple of steps forward and dropped his cane on the mattress beside you.

“Well, maybe you could take a little advantage then?” you asked playfully, rising on your knees and pulling him by the belt to sit on the bed next to you. Straddling his hips, you wrapped your arms around his neck and licked his cheek all the way up to his temple. “I can’t believe you are abandoning me, looking like this, to flex in front of some STEM bros.”

“Ah, I solemnly swear to atone upon my return.” A low, suggestive whisper rumbled against your skin as his hands cradling your ass sent a jolt up your spine, and you involuntarily sunk deeper into his lap, forcing a grunt out of him. Viktor shot you a scolding look and chuckled, “If you ruin my pants, I’m taking yours. And you wouldn’t want that.”

“You better pray I don’t ruin you and that you can feel your legs when I’m done with you,” you breathed out, placing a trail of slick kisses on the tendon of his neck, and Viktor cackled, the pitch of his laugh embarrassingly high.

Playfully, he pushed you away, his lips forming a comical pout. “You cannot crumple me! We’ve been picking those clothes for an hour, ah—” he gasped as your teeth caught his earlobe. A giggle pushed itself past his mouth, and his hands squeezed your thighs firmly. “That’s it,” he stated, shrugging you off of him, only to crawl on top of you clumsily.

He pinned your hands above your head, lifted your shirt with his nose and blew a raspberry on your stomach, making you squirm and kick your legs around. “Please! I surrender, ah!” You screamed as he tickled your tummy with his nose and tongue.

Viktor lifted himself and shot you a look to check if you did, in fact, surrender and regretted instantly as you wrapped your legs around him and trapped him in a tight squeeze, forcing him to let out a startled huff. He landed with his chest flush against yours, your noses bumping each other.

“I am ready to suffer the consequences of crumpling you, mister,” you whispered against his lips, when a concern crossed your thoughts at the sight of a frown on his forehead. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, only my pride,” he snorted, kissing your neck. “If I knew some nice pants and a sweater would make you go so feral, I’d dress up every day.” You were flashed an incredulous grin and granted freedom of your hands, which you immediately used to tangle your fingers into Viktor’s hair and shove your tongue into his mouth.

He moaned, at first surprised, then just welcoming, when his hands snaked around your body to squeeze your waist and cup your ass once more. He rolled both of you to the side, but you wouldn’t have it and pushed him further to trap him underneath you.

“It seems the more I can’t have you, the more I want you. Something to think about,” you smirked and ground your hips into his mercilessly. Viktor groaned, his hands hovering tentatively around your thighs before slapping your ass playfully.

“I told you how I feel about my pants getting ruined or me getting crumpled, but you seem to be completely deaf,” Viktor huffed, utterly bemused by the sudden rush of want in you, as you licked his neck, making all sorts of obscene smacking sounds.

You cupped his face, your fingers digging into the base of his skull as your tongue traced his upper lip and the seam of his mouth, coaxing him to open. A laugh got caught in his throat as your nose pressed against his and you inhaled him deeply, licking the roof of his mouth and sending a content moan straight to his stomach.

His hips bucked beneath you, making a smile bloom across your lips. You tugged at his hair to expose his neck and placed a trail of loving pecks all the way down to his collar bone. Viktor writhed against you, sending threats in your direction, his breathy tone making them sound entirely unserious. “You have no idea what I am going to do to you when I come back.”

“Oh, baby, are you not enjoying my love?” You cooed against his skin, blowing on a new love mark you sucked into his neck.

“I am enjoying it thoroughly,” he grunted, pressing his half-hard cock up to meet your core and you whined into the crook of his shoulder, careful not to drool on his beautiful sweater. “But I have something around twenty minutes before Jayce gets here, and you are making me look like a whore.”

“But you make such a beautiful whore, Viktor, I can’t help it,” you wheezed theatrically into his ear, drawing another giggle this evening. “Also, this will make it look like you really cared about coming to the gala.” Without putting much thought into what you had just said, you resumed your work on spattering Viktor’s neck with little marks of affection.

And he let you, because it felt too great to stop. The weight of your hips so sweet on his pelvis that he could probably get off on it if he let you grind on him for a little while longer. Your hands groping him greedily, your usual roles suddenly switched, as he was the one panting and writhing for his dear life, praying that his crotch wouldn’t be damp after all of this.

He let himself be pulled by the bite on his lower lip, let his shirt slip out of his pants as you explored his stomach and stuffed your greedy fingers under his belt, tickling his navel. He allowed you to palm him through his pants, even though it had earned you a bite on the neck of your own.

You leeched onto his skin, chuckling between the small nips at his lips, a singular web-like strand of drool connecting your mouths. When you finally lifted to gaze upon your creation, Viktor looked like a fallen angel—his hair a complete mess, face and ears a darker shade of pink, eyes molten, lids hooded, and mouth slightly parted in a soft smile. And his clothes, well, crumpled like a thin paper sheet.

He traced his fingers under your t-shirt, rubbing circles on each of your sides. Admiring the mark that had begun to bloom on your collarbone, a realisation hit him. He was going to be a complete hot mess, his neck most likely stained with bruises. He clasped a hand to his mouth and whispered in exaggerated concern, “How bad is the damage?”

You cocked your head from side to side, smiling innocently, and he rolled his eyes, your name falling from his lips in a playful scold. Shrugging you off of himself, he reached to the bedside for your mirror and nearly choked at the state of his skin—red, bloodshot marks covering his neck, a slight swelling around the spots you bit on harder.

“Lásko, you have outdone yourself,” he sighed, tracing his fingertips across each of the love confessions you sucked into his skin. “And what am I going to do now, hm?”

“A turtleneck?” You laughed, waggling your eyebrows at him. “Or a scarf?”

“Yes, let’s make it even more obvious. Other ideas, and please let them be good?”

“I can suck on the rest of you, so the colour matches everywhere, ow!” You winced at the pinch on your ass and batted Viktor’s hand away. “Alright! Alright, I think Sue left something behind after the last time, let me check if it matches you.” Honest capitulation could be heard in your voice, as you slid off the bed to search for Sue’s foundation in the bathroom��the only person you knew that could match Viktor in the ghastly skin tone club.

You grabbed it triumphantly from the drawer under the sink and threw it in Viktor’s direction, before grabbing your make-up bag and kneeling in front of him on the bed.

“Lift, please,” you said flatly, propping his chin up, momentarily fixated on the way his Adam’s apple bobbed beneath your fingers. You gave his throat an affectionate squeeze and murmured, “Bye, bye hickeys,” making Viktor chuckle.

“You will see them again in the evening,” he said warmly, placing his hands on your thighs.

“Oh, you bet your ass I will. I am going to scrub this makeup off you the minute you step through the door,” you muttered absently, your focus fully on pounding the fluid onto your masterpiece.

“I think this is my best work yet,” you announced proudly, adding more and more product, as the stubborn redness refused to disappear under Sue’s delicate cosmetics.

You had to use baby powder to set it, since none of your humble makeup collection items seemed to match Viktor’s skin tone, making him smell like a newborn, who happened to like birch tar and bergamot cologne.

You patted his cheek affectionately and passed him the mirror so he could evaluate whether the troubleshooting had proven successful, adding in a flat, nasal tone, “We do not accept refunds.”

“Not bad,” he hummed, flexing his neck, which immediately made you weak in your knees.

“I hope you understand I will have to make you squirm for this later, yes?” he said matter-of-factly, slapping his palms flat on your thighs, his eyebrows lifted in expectation.

You nodded and kept nodding until Viktor smiled and your face twisted into a dumb grin. “That’s settled then,” he stated with one final firm pat on your legs and lifted himself off the bed. He grabbed his cane, coat, checked his phone and mumbled something about Jayce already waiting downstairs.

You walked up to him, pinching his ass and picking at his hair, your hands wandering as you tried to straighten his clothes and put his shirt back in place. Before leaving, he pulled you into a tight hug and whispered against your lips, “Thank you. I’m much less nervous than I was half an hour ago.”

“Hmm, no worries,” you murmured between soft kisses placed on his beauty marks. “I am so very proud of you; I hope you know this.”

“Oh yes, after today I am convinced that if you could, you would wear my skin as a pelt,” he chuckled against your neck, his breath fanning your skin with a warm breeze. “I would have to make sure it’s covered with hickeys before that,” you said, adjusting his collar. “And I would never, ever take it off.”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #request #viktor x gn!reader #viktor fluff #viktor x reader fluff

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please-destroy · 1 month ago

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Mittens

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Tony laughed loudly when he first saw the grey woollen hat.

It had a white pom pom on the end and Tony snorted when he caught sight of it bouncing.

Natasha paused momentarily and her eyes flickered over to him, sipping coffee as he read over a Stark Pad.

‘Sorry.’ He grinned unashamedly. ‘It’s just not very Black Widow.’

Natasha rolled her eyes pointedly, before letting your hesitant tug on her hand pull her away.

In the elevator, you watched the quiet embarrassment roll through her. Natasha regarded herself in the mirrored walls as you descended the skyscraper. Her eyes lingered on the hat.

Her gaze wasn’t critical. You almost wished it was. There was something childish in her vulnerability. You read the indecision in the way she bit her lip.

Your heart seized with a strange sadness. You’d never really seen how Natasha viewed herself, not until then. Tony’s comment had thrown her completely off.

Just before you reached the ground floor, Natasha’s hand raised to remove the hat. You instinctively lifted your fingers to brush her wrist. She froze at your touch.

‘Leave it.’ You murmured, taking the moment for a brief kiss of her cheek. ‘You look great.’

Her voice was husky in uncertain disagreement.

‘I look ridiculous.’

‘You look cute.’ You promised truthfully, your lips lingering next to her cheek. ‘That’s not a crime.’

Natasha took a small breath and you heard the shakiness of it. Your arm wrapped around her side.

You met her gaze in the mirror, just before the doors parted.

‘Cute.’ You repeated, enjoying the way her eyes sparkled as her smile returned.

You couldn’t be certain, but you had a suspicion that the moment in the elevator didn’t leave Natasha’s mind. You knew for sure that it didn’t leave yours.

You settled together into your planned day of Christmas shopping as you wandered through the cold, busy streets. You passed a clothes store with a large winter sale on, and both slowed down to peer into the window. Inside the store, you walked thoughtlessly in sync. Together, you roamed through the aisles with that easy familiarity that comes with time.

When you found the mittens, you held them up questioningly to her. They were the same silver grey as her woolen hat.

Natasha’s face smoothed immediately. You watched her begin to dismiss your suggestion automatically as a joke.

Then, you saw the same lingering uncertainty return to her face.

‘I don’t know.’ She admitted suddenly and her voice was raw.

Customers weaved around you, uninterested in anything but the retail deals on offer.

‘I’ve never had mittens before.’ Natasha told you, unwarranted embarrassment flitting into her expression.

Your stomach flipped and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was her shyness at such a minor secret.

‘Then, these are a must buy.’ You determined with sudden decisiveness, taking her hand and leading her to the checkout.

The cashier easily read your relationship as you approached the counter. Despite the bustle around you, she gave you both a small smile, handing the mittens purposefully over to Natasha.

Maybe it was the cold, but Natasha’s cheeks were glowing pink before you’d left the store.

Her woolen mittens matched her hat. Her pleased smile matched her eyes.

That was when you decided that the day was going to be something else.

Natasha’s brow furrowed in confusion when your course altered. You led her purposefully across the busy street, away from the storefronts.

She first protested as you weaved through the pop up stalls, selling anything from winter themed street-food to Christmas tree baubles. She reminded you about the presents that you both still needed to buy.

As you approached the ice rink, Natasha stopped in her tracks entirely. She stood a few feet away from you with wide eyes.

Her head shook slowly.

‘No.’ She whispered, her mittens slipping self consciously into her coat pockets. ‘I don’t know how.’

You shrugged, keeping your eyes steady on her.

‘We don’t have to.’ You promised, never wanting to scare her.

You closed the distance between you carefully. Natasha’s lips were pressed together. The same nervous indecision worried her expression.

‘I don’t know how.’ She repeated in a small voice, the words almost an apology.

You brushed her shoulders gently.

‘That’s not a crime.’ You hummed softly. ‘Do you want to try?’

Natasha’s stare was sudden and piercing. There was something unashamed now about her exposed vulnerability. She didn’t mind that you had seen her quiet fear.

Pride stamped your chest as you realised that Natasha knew you were on her team.

You anticipated her answer before she said it.

Before anything else, Natasha was brave.

‘Okay.’ She determined, a soft mitten seeking out your own gloved hand.

The next few minutes moved with surprising simplicity. You brought back the skates from the rental desk.

You laced up your pair quickly, excited to get on the ice.

Natasha started laughing gently beside you.

You looked over and caught her grin. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. She raised her mittened hands helplessly and you started smiling too.

You knelt before her, tying up her laces with extra care.

‘Thank you.’ Natasha murmured as you finished. You glanced up, surprised by the rush of warmth you felt from her gaze.

A mitten brushed your cheek softly, and you felt your smile widen at the touch.

As you stepped onto the ice, Natasha’s grip was tight on your hand.

The fairy lights above threaded together like a wedding arch.

You took an extra step forward, ready to skate.

Natasha hesitated and you turned around, ready to skate slowly backwards as she practiced.

Your breath caught as you watched the lights sparkle in her eyes. The green and gold dappled together and Natasha seemed ethereal.

You could read the worry on her face before she said it aloud.

There was something inexplicable about the glowing softness of her. The woolen hat, the ringlets, the reddened cheeks.

Natasha’s lips parted as she exhaled anxiously.

‘I love you.’ You told her, because it was the only thing to do.

Natasha’s breath caught and her eyes sparkled impossibly more.

‘That’s not a crime.’ She considered aloud, her grin teasing.

You kissed her gently, wanting to live in this moment forever.

She tasted much warmer than you’d expected.

When your lips parted, Natasha hummed in satisfaction. Her forehead affectionately touched yours. The feeling of being entirely wanted spread over you like a blanket.

Natasha wobbled on the ice, but you held her steady.

Christmas music crackled over the overhead speakers.

For a moment, there were only the bright lights and the pair of you.

Then, with alarming speed, two teenagers skated past. You both startled.

Natasha sighed gently as she extricated herself from your hold.

‘Come on.’ She said, taking your hand resolutely in her mittened one.

‘It’s time to go fall on my ass.’

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #avengers imagine

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heartmaddie · 5 months ago

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kageyama who has a crush on you :(

involves : pre time skip , fluff , implied shorter reader, can be read gn!

kageyama tobio loves consistency, he loves the familiar fabric of a volleyball against his finger tips, he loves waking up everyday at 5:00 to run for a half hour before getting ready for school. he loves having the same breakfast everyday, he found comfort in consistency, it’s been that way since he was young. it’s not something he ever wants to change.

kageyama tobio is so infatuated with you and he doesn’t even realise it for the longest time. not even when he commutes to school with you every morning, even though it’s inconvenient to take the bus to your house first. he’ll be outside your door at 6:30 everyday, he’d rather be late for volleyball practice than not be in your presence for at least an hour in the morning light.

kageyama tobio’s favourite season is winter, he likes watching the snow fall on chilly days and he thinks that the cold air is refreshing against his skin during his morning runs, but most of all, he likes seeing you wrapped up in a woollen coat as you tightly grasp your warm cup, searching for the smallest amount of warmth as you sip on your lightly caffeinated drink to help you adjust to the morning dew.

kageyama tobio who only realised his feelings were a bit more than platonic when sugawara vaguely suggested it, “who’s that person you’re always with?” the older boy asks as he folds extra towels, “oh y/n?, they’re my friend from junior high” kageyama explains,. “they’re pretty, aren’t they?” sugawara asks, intending to tease him a bit, but kageyama continues expressionless, “i mean i guess. i remember one time we took the bus together and it was the morning, so the sun hit their face nicely and their eyes were this amber colour i’ve never seen before. i’ve felt differently about their appearance since then” and sugawara was literally like ‘wtf boy’ and explained to him what romantic feelings were 😭

kageyama tobio who shares his wired earplugs with you, standing close to you the both of you listen to some random j-soft rock song he thinks he’s niche for listening to, but he’s really not. he’s comforted when you press your shoulders up against each others so that the bud doesn’t come out.

kageyama tobio’s first time ever initiating something physical with you was when he gently laid his head on your shoulder in the privacy of his room, seeking comfort after a devastating lost from all your friends from junior high, he was a bit embarrassed from the way his heart squeezed when you wrapped your arms around his back and whispered in his ears that he’d be okay.

kageyama tobio who was surprised when you texted him and said not to pick you up today since you were a bit sickly, and he was a bit grouchy and tight because it messed up his schedule (he was worried for you and didn’t like it when you were sick). but you were even more surprised when you hear his deep voice vibrate through your room, “are you awake?” he whispers, you respond with a nod and he sighs in response.

kageyama tobio who sits nearby you, making sure to keep you on your bed as he gently places a cold towel on your forehead, making you swallow different medicines after feeding you okayu that his mother made earlier that day, he scolds you for being careless and getting sick like this.

kageyama tobio who was told by his whole volleyball team that the best way to ask someone out is proudly and with a big confession, and he was literally about to do that until that night his mother advised him to be intimate and personal while confessing, which is how he ended up in the kitchen tempering chocolate all night.

“y/n!” he says, rushing into your classroom, panting heavily so he could find you right before lunch started, your classmates were confused as he drags you right out the room and nearby the tree where you eat with him everyday.

“is something wrong?” you ask curiously, squeezing his hand as you watched him pant

“no, no.. it’s not that” he muttered, his face bright red. “let me just..” he rummages through his bag. you bite down on your lip as you try not to smile, it was endearing watching him like this.

he took a deep breath and gently placed a clear cellophane bag with a white ribbon tying it neatly together in your hands, it was filled with a couple pink and red heart shaped chocolates, causing you to flush and look up at him expectantly.

“i really like you y/n, can i be your boyfriend?”

you spent the bus home leaning on his shoulder as you quietly shared your sweets with him.

kageyama tobio whose life changed slightly everyday when you started dating officially. he liked how you’d cling onto his arm when you were cold, or every morning when he greeted you with a kiss you’d look up at him flushed with your bottom lip tucked under your teeth. he liked the small, intimate changes which occurred after he confessed to you.

tobio kageyama loved consistency, but he loved you just that much more. extra !

you're still wearing your blazer and wishing your friends goodbye as you cried, it was the end of high school after all. when the time's right, tobio's pulling you away from your friends, taking you to the tree where he confessed to you three years ago, "y/n" he mumbles into your ear as he holds you tight, basking in the last moments of high school love he'd have with you. "tobio, is something wrong?" you ask, gently pushing his raven hair out of his face as he looks down at you. "no.." he rummages through his pocket, opening your hand with his fingers and slipping his small , second black blazer button into your palm, he encloses them with his own.

"i got selected for the japan national team" he mumbles as if it was nothing, causing you gasp, "really tobio that's so exci-" he smiles into your skin, cutting you off. "come to tokyo with me, we can start our life there"

! please consider liking, reblogging or following if you enjoyed :3 guys writing is so scratching my head but its lowk fun - why do i get so nerovus posting uhh

#🎐maddie writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama x reader fluff #kageyama tobio #haikyuu tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff #gender neutral reader

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illbegottenfaith · 1 month ago

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can I take your order?

you get off on the wrong foot with the new barista at your hometown's coffee shop, but even your off-putting behaviour isn't enough to deter him (theo nott x reader)

a/n - a little birthday gift from me to myself! this was inspired by an episode of fresh off the boat season 4. I dont usually like coffee shop au's but they do make for a fun silly little drabble :)

warnings/tropes - coffee shop au, one-sided reluctant acquaintances to lovers(?), fluff, petty!reader

word count - 2.8k

In hindsight, your first clue should have been the unfamiliar, deep, masculine voice coming from the figure crouched behind the counter. You walked into the coffee shop, the familiar bell jangling warmly.

"Just a minute!"

Strange, you had thought. Elaise sounds rather different. And like the utter idiot you were, you settled on one of most nonsensical conclusions anyone could have drawn - she must have a sore throat. Poor Elaise.

The figure straightened, heaving a box of individually wrapped candy canes onto the counter, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

“Hello. Can I take your order?”

You gaped at the new, unfamiliar barista. His hair fell appealingly across his forehead in soft, silky curls. His cheeks were rosy with the warmth of the cosy shop, and you distantly took note of how becoming the flush looked on him. That, and how adorably put-together he looked on what was clearly his first day on the job, with his neatly rolled-up sleeves and pristine apron.

You, on the other hand, were bundled up in an absurd amount of woollens and jackets, your pinched face desperately lacking any colour or sign of life.

In your defense, you typically looked much more normal. It was just that you could not, for the life of you, find your coat that morning, which may or may not have to do with the fact that you had only haphazardly unpacked half your trunk (you had precious few days away from Hogwarts - you weren't going to spend half of one unpacking and another half packing again.).

Since you could not find your coat, you had made a guess (a rather poor one, you were quickly realising) at how many layers you needed to pile on to avoid catching your death in the brisk chill outside. By the time you stepped outside, you were sweating under the sweltering layers. But the only thing more stupid than bundling yourself in an obscene number of layers was wasting time peeling those layers off, and so you waddled down your driveway with what was left of your dignity.

Besides, on a cold day like this, it wasn't like you were going to run into anyone. Only Elaise down at the coffee shop, someone you could laugh about this with.

Someone you could not laugh about this with, you decided, was the equally stunned stranger of a barista in front of you. It was warm, very warm, inside the coffee shop. With your lucky, you'd somehow manage to sweat through all of your layers. Could he tell you were wearing too many? Was it obvious? Oh, God, between your layers and the overthinking you wer going to overheat. But you couldn't remove any of them, because then it would be obvious, because then he would know -

That was when you made the brilliant observation that he was staring at you just as much as you were staring at him. There was the faintest sheen of sweat along the bridge of his unfairly well-constructed nose. Your gaze slipped down to the box of candy canes he had just pulled out and, with considerable difficulty, willed yourself to tear your eyes away from him. Honestly, what he was doing in a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere with forearms like those?

This was getting ridiculous, you fumed. He was just as out of breath as you, even if it was for entirely different reasons. Why did he get to look so roguishly dishevelled, while you...actually, you didn't want to think about how you looked. His lips were parted and his brow was lightly furrowed. Maybe, if you were clever about this, you could convince him that this was all just a fevered hallucination the both of you shared.

Too late.

He was moving his mouth, and from the way his eyes were fixed on your outermost ugly Christmas sweater (that you had worn ironically. Ironically. You were not destitute in the clothing department.), you were sure he had nothing constructive to say.

So you did what any rational human being would do - turn around and leave.

"And then you just...left? Without saying anything?"

You sealed the last of the cardboard boxes. "He was very off-putting."

Whatever. Ivy hadn't been there. It's not like she would know that you had been the off-putting one.

The two of you were sorting through the boxes cluttering your dreary attic. It had taken up the better part of your morning, but at least you were finally done. Ivy tucked away the last box, wiping her hands down her pants.

"You know what I could really go for right now? A vanilla latte."

You put down the label maker, narrowing your eyes at your friend. "Ivy."

"With a light dusting of cinnamon on top."

"We can't go there," you protested. "We have to stay away from the place until Elaise comes back. If she comes back. You know, out of solidarity?"

What you meant was, you couldn't show your face there again after yesterday. Really, what were you thinking, walking out without so much as a word? He probably thought you weren't right in the head. Although, you thought bitterly, maybe he wasn't far off.

"Oh, relax. She's talked about going out of town to visit her family for ages now. Don't her grandparents live in Minnesota? Besides," Ivy picked up your coats, tossing you yours, "I have to see the guy my best friend is so down bad for."

Your tongue suddenly felt too thick for your mouth. "I'm not down bad for him. Why would you think I'm down bad for him?"

"Y/N, you spent the last half hour talking about his hands."

You scoffed. "Uh, yeah, about how stupid they look, with all those stupid veins and that stupid bone structure."

The whole way there, you came up with more and more excuses to avoid the coffee shop, each one more desperate and ridiculous than the last. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to work.

The two of you walked in, and you were briefly soothed by the comforting aroma of roasted coffee beans. Ivy gave the barista a warm smile. "Hello." Traitor.

"Hi. What can I get you?"

He didn't look as fresh-faced as yesterday, but god was he still devastatingly attractive. You tried to focus on what Ivy was saying.

"I'll have a vanilla latte with cinammon on top."

"And you?"

You opened your mouth. You wanted to tell him your order; really, you did. But for some strange, inexplicable reason, your mind went blank. What did you want? The silence stretched awkwardly. You felt your face heat up. Your throat felt dry. Eventually, Ivy - wonderful, fantastic, heaven-sent Ivy - cleared her throat delicately.

"She'll have a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a hazelnut drizzle. Say, Elaise used to work here, didn't she?"

The barista glanced up at Ivy. "Hm? Oh, yes. She's just out of town for the holidays."

"Minnesota?"

"I think so."

Ivy gave you a knowing look. You scowled at her and looked away, only to see the barista watching you with an odd expression, as if a smile were tugging at his lips. You hurriedly straightened your face, fixing your gaze on the bottles of syrup behind him as he went back to taking the order.

"Could I get your names?"

"Ivy and..." She prodded you in the ribs. You stayed resolutely silent, your eyes only slightly watering from the jab. "...and Y/N," she finished.

Ivy paid, and the two of you found a table in the middle of the shop to wait at. You couldn't stop kicking yourself over the interaction. That was twice you'd made a fool of yourself in front of him now. Once your drinks were ready, Ivy fetched them. When she handed you yours, you turned the cup around in your hand. It felt like any other drink. You turned it a little more and your heart skipped a beat. There was your name scrawled in black ink, and at the end was a slightly untidy, yet unmistakable, heart.

"Aww," Ivy crooned, peeking over, "he likes you."

"Shut up," you mumbled, trying to hide your burning face. Still, when she wasn't looking, you ran a thumb over his writing, memorising every careless flick of his marker.

There had to be something wrong with him. No one was that perfect.

"What am I looking at?" Matteo asked drily, as you stood outside the coffee shop the next day. A couple of your friends were spending Christmas in the area, and you had managed to drag a couple of them down here. The person you really wanted there was Matteo, someone to validate your (diminishing) distaste for the guy. Sometimes you felt like he was the only one who understood your mistrustful nature. You vaguely stabbed at the direction of the barista, who was busily whipping up a drink, through the cafe's window with your mittened hands.

"There. That guy."

"What about him?"

"How much money are you willing to bet on him being a serial killer?"

That was when Matteo started laughing, and it was a long while before anyone could get him to stop.

"I don’t think Matteo was the right person to ask," Ivy said, patting your arm sympathetically once all of you had bundled inside the shop.

"Obviously not," you said bitterly. "He’d gamble his trust fund away for shits and giggles."

Your gaze wandered over to the counter where the others were still ordering. The barista's pencil wasn't moving on his writing pad, and Matteo actually seemed interested in whatever he was saying. Typical. Don't! you wanted to yell. He's the enemy!

"Have a nice little chitchat?" you asked witheringly once the guys returned with their drinks.

"Hey, I was only trying to scope out if he was a - what did you say? Right, a serial killer."

You rolled your eyes. It was starting to get annoying, how everyone couldn't help but love the guy.

"I miss Elaise," you grumbled, taking a sip of your drink. As you set your drink back down, you glanced back at the counter to see the barista once again watching you. You stiffened. What was he looking at? Did you have something on your face? You did have something on your face! You hurriedly wiped off the whipped cream above your upper lip and on the tip of your nose with the back of your hand. But he still wasn't looking away. His eyes dipped down to your drink. Mystified, you followed his gaze, looking more closely at your cup.

There was a cartoonish Christmas tree etched on the side with a speech bubble coming out of its mouth.

Why did the Christmas tree go to the dentist?

You rotated the cup.

It needed a root canal.

A talking Christmas tree. A talking Christmas tree going to the dentist. How ridiculous, you thought. You laughed suddenly, startling your friends. You didn't know why you were nearly It was so stupid that it circled back to being funny. Noticing your friends curiously watching you, you hurriedly rotated the cup, shielding the doodle with your palm. You waved away their questioning glances, and slowly the conversation resumed.

You glanced back at the barista, eyes bright with mirth, watching him take someone else's order. Sure, it was a stupid joke, but it was your kind of stupid joke.

Ever since that first day when you walked out without saying a word, Theo had watched you return to the coffee shop day after day, bringing more and more backup. Today, he had to duck behind the milk steaming station when he spotted your table as he emerged from the back. Impressively, you had managed to squeeze an entire party of seven around a table for two, complete with everyone’s puffy winter coats. As you had discovered a few days ago, that table was the perfect vantage point to spy on the goings-on at the counter.

Today, he approached your table with his familiar writing pad and pencil. "I thought it might be easier if I came to all of you instead of the other way around."

One by one, your friends rattled off their orders.

"Vanilla latte, cinammon on top. Y/N?"

It was your turn. You met his eyes. His striking, crisp blue eyes. Fuck. You felt your thoughts start slipping from your mind again.

"I know," he started saying, "hot chocolate with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle on top."

"Hazelnut."

"Hm?"

Everyone was staring at you. That had just come out of your mouth, hadn't it? Your throat felt scratchy. You didn't think you could string two words together, but somehow, you managed.

"It's not a caramel drizzle," you forced out clumsily, hyperaware of your scarlet face. "It's hazelnut."

Then, oh so subtly, in a way you would have missed it if you hadn't been watching his face so closely, his mouth curved into an undeniable smirk.

You looked around your circle of friends to see if anyone had noticed, but they had been too busy watching you. You looked back at him. The smirk was gone, but the polite graciousness in his eyes as he murmured an apology and walked away didn't fool you.

Ivy patted you on the back, but you shrugged her away. You were too busy fuming. He tricked you. He tricked you. Who did he think he was, manipulating his way into getting you to say two words to him? Before anyone realised what you were doing, including yourself, you were standing up and walking over to the counter with a more than indignant air.

"I bet you think you were real slick with that, huh?"

"With what?" he asked smoothly, completely unfazed as he continued with the drink he was making. Unfazed enough to make you suspect this was what he had planned all along.

"You know. You knew it was hazelnut."

He gave you what anyone else might have mistaken for an innocent smile, but you knew better. "Did I?"

"Yes, and frankly, it's almost insulting to think I wouldn't have picked up o-"

He set down the cup he had been writing on. It was only then that you realised it was your drink.

"Hot chocolate. Whipped cream. Hazelnut drizzle."

You blinked, having lost your train of thought. You hesitantly picked the cup up and walked back to your table.

Your friends were too engrossed in their conversations to notice you returning. You turned your cup, looking for today's doodle. Except, there was no doodle - only your name messily scrawled without so much as a heart. It was legible, but barely.

You bit your lip, trying to stave off the stinging disappointment rushing in. It hurt to know that you had been right all along, that he didn't really fancy you. As for the hurried scribble, who could blame him? He had a good seven or so drinks to make. He was in a rush, he couldn't be wasting time doodling on every single cup.

You looked up, making eye contact with Ivy sitting opposite you. You shook your head, gesturing to your drink. Only, when she glanced at your cup, her eyes widened dramatically. Frowning, you spun the cup around, and you nearly choked.

561-555-7689

"Um, I'm going to get some air," you mumbled to no one in particular, dazed, as you exited the shop with your drink. You looked at the digits on the cup again, repeating them over and over again in your head till you had them memorised. Should you? No, you didn't want to come off as desperate. Unless...no. No. You weren't that pathetic.

Oh, who were you kidding? You had made a complete arse of yourself in front of him. What reason did he have to actually give you his number?

"Hello?"

You were stunned speechless. It worked. He picked up. And you knew it was him, because you could see him on the phone through the window, wiping a hand on his apron as he raised his eyebrows at you.

"...hi." You shook yourself, turning away. It was easier if you didn't have to acknowledge who you were talking to. "Sorry. You're working now, obviously. I just didn't think you'd give me your real number."

"Why would I give you a fake number?"

You could imagine the corner of his lip quirking up into that slightly asymmetrical smile of his. Everything you did seemed to amuse him. You shrugged, laughing weakly. "I don't know. For some kind of sick joke?"

"I thought you liked my jokes."

You scrunched your nose. He had you there.

You called him again that night, once you were sure his shift would have ended. And the night after that, and the night after that, and every night for the rest of the holidays.

#theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff

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valacre · 4 days ago

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: ̗̀➛ Touch Her Soft Lips and Part

Optimus Prime x Reader - transformers prime

Tyres rolled silently despite the weight they carried; the packed snow did much to muffle him as he neared your home. The sky was a deep blue, and it reflected upon the crystalised snow around him, casting the world in an ethereal glow you’d told him was called ‘the blue hour’. It was beautiful, yet Optimus couldn’t admire it just yet, not until he reached your house.

Winter tyres had never crossed his mind. He hadn’t need for them in Jasper, and rarely did he ever have to drive on snowy or icy roads but coming over to visit you after days apart had been important as he’d grown worried for you. It wasn’t often you stayed away for so long, and if you did then you’d usually give them a call to tell them of your schedule.

The radio silence had gnawed at him, so now, after nearly accidentally sliding off the road as the ice and snow had taken him by surprise, he slowly transformed as your house came into view. The windows appeared mostly dark at first, but upon further inspection, Optimus could see a soft, warm light coming from within the entryway. A light you usually kept on whenever you went outside so you wouldn’t be plunged into darkness should you come home late.

In other words, you were not at home.

Optimus looked around, trying to see possible tracks of your car leading away, but the snow laid out from your garage was undisturbed. Looking closer, he found partially snowed-over footprints leading away from your home and out towards a narrow path leading into the forest. Relieved to see proof of life, he’d yet to set his concerns aside as the footprints were clearly a few hours old. There wasn’t a single cloud upon the darkening sky, and you must have been gone for quite a while.

Trying not to rush, Optimus slowly follows the path, pedes finding unsteady ground as he holds his servos out to push away looming branches on both tall and smaller trees. A few moments where he almost stumbles have him mumbling a few small words in Cybertronian. Not swearing, but merely frustrated by his predicament and slowness. For all that he knew, you could be hurt and freezing in the snow, and here he is stumbling like a young sparkling trying to take its first steps.

The path grants him mercy the further he proceeds as trees grow farther apart and the land opens, revealing a fully open expanse. Optimus takes in the sight that Earth offers him. A great lake stands frozen, stretching far out and over to the great mountain on the other side, its giant peak standing like a hook towards the sky. All had yet to release its hold of the blue hour, though it was the lake whose blue tint stood out the most, the thick ice full of cracks, and it sang as the temperature dropped with the approaching night; ice growing thicker still.

And there, far out in the middle of it, was you.

Moving swiftly and with the grace of one of Earth’s swans, Optimus watched as you spun and slid across the ice. Feeling confused as to how you managed to move so quickly and easily, he tried to look closer as you unknowingly came a little closer, and beneath your feet were blades, gliding effortlessly across the frozen lake.

Yet again feeling amazed by the creativity of humanity, Optimus watched in silence for a while, appreciating and admiring the sight of you. A long, white woollen coat keeps you warm, a flowing blue scarf adorns your elegant neck, and a woollen hat hangs far down along your back, a puffy, woollen ball dangling at the end of it. It looks handmade. It must be made by you, crafty as you are. He smiles, admiring you even more.

“Optimus!” you shout, startled at the sight of him as the light of his optics caught in your peripheral. You’re still far away from him, but your voice echoes and he hears you clearly. He’s sorry for startling you but the warmth that flows through him at the sound of you has him forgetting it almost immediately.

He doesn’t reply but merely watches as you come towards him, a precious flower not made for him yet still seeking his presence and touch. His digits twitch and his optics are soft, never releasing your form as nearer and nearer you come. He sits down on one knee, ice cracking beneath him but no water comes out; all turned solid so close to shore.

“What are you doing out here?” you ask, slightly out of breath as you come to a halt. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold, breath is visible in the air, and Optimus takes a moment to admire the sight. Admiring the life that spreads warmth throughout your small body.

“We had not heard from you in many days. I began to worry something was amiss,” said he, still watching you. Some of your hair was hanging out, framing your face. The dwindling blue light cast you in a lovely glow, your eyes glittering along with the snow and ice surrounding you; perfectly made for the land you’d been born to. Unknowingly, he reached out a servo, and you took it without thought, shocking him and making his spark jitter as you suddenly kissed him, cold but soft lips touching the outer part of his index digit.

“I’m sorry. There was a snowstorm five days ago and I’ve had little to no cell service. I sent messages to Miko, Jack, and Rafael in hopes that they would reach you, but it seems that it was faulty,” said you, smiling regrettably up at him. “I didn’t mean to make you worry, Optimus.”

“You need not apologise, y/n,” said he, intakes deep as his frame threatened to overheat despite the coldness surrounding him, the touch of your lips warming him from within and out. “You did what you could to reach us. I should have attempted to contact you sooner. Forgive me for my lateness,” he said, and your face split as a fond smile stretched across your mouth and eyes, and softly you chuckled as, once more, you kissed his digit, and this time Optimus’s cooling fans kicked in as his spark melted.

“You are now and forevermore forgiven, Optimus,” said you, chuckling still and resting your cheek against his servo as he reached around to hold you. Your feet slid across the ice, and he glanced down.

“These… shoes you wear on your feet. They are adorned with blades."

“Ice skates,” you said, sliding your feet back and forth with ease. “We use them to better travel across the ice, or to perform, or to just play,” you said, shrugging your shoulders as a light shudder passed through you. Being still seemed to give the cold a chance to sink its claws into you, but you resisted when he attempted to lift you up and instead shot him a hopeful smile. “Hey, won’t you join me out on the ice?”

Optimus glanced out over the lake. “Will it hold me?”

“Yes,” you said, sounding certain. “It will. I know it.” And with that, you snuck out from his hold and far too easily slid out further onto the lake, and Optimus felt the need to reach out and grab you again, already missing your softness and warmth.

It took him a few careful steps to test the ice as well as finding how slippery it was, but one step after another he gained more confidence. It didn’t take him long to reach you in the middle of the lake, his optics trained on you as slowly but surely you were cast in a bright green light. Your eyes looked upwards to gaze upon the arrival of the northern lights, and your mouth opened slightly; awestruck.

“Oh, Optimus, look how beautiful it is,” you whispered, unable to look away from the dancing light above you. Likewise, Optimus could cast his optics away from the living painting before him. You, standing amid thick, cracked ice cast in a green glow from above, yet none of it drowned you out. Instead, you were like the stars upon the night sky, glowing bright with life.

“You are beautiful,” said he; unconsciously. Speaking from his spark.

You turned to look at him, startled by his words and frozen still by his intense stare. His optics, so bright and blue, were warm and lovestruck as he bore a tender smile upon his face plate, and your heart fluttered at the sight as your breath caught in your throat. And still, even as the flush of your cheeks was now a mixture of cold and heat, you smiled back at him, admiring the way the light above danced across his frame.

Words were thrown to the wind as eyes and optics stayed locked in silent whispers, and bladed feet hung in the air as warmth engulfed chilled skin, cradling it close and protectively as metal touched soft lips, locked in a moment of ancient and new affection; fragile, but deeply burning love intertwining.

Music: Scott Buckley - Hymn To The Dawn & Celestial

#tfp #maccadam #transformers #optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #vala writes

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professorsnape394 · 3 months ago

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DAY 13: Unexpected Encounters

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 🥰

Prompt: Journey

Summary: Snape is interrupted by a beautiful stranger on the journey to back to Hogwarts.

A/N: Feel like we're long over due for a cute lil fluffy piece, so here ya go :-) Comment if you're interested in a possible part 2 to this one?

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1977

Credits to Gif Creator.

The journey to Hogwarts was one of the few things that brought peace to Severus’ life. As a child, it meant finally escaping the wrath of his abusive father. As a teen, it meant getting to see his best friend after months spent apart. And as an adult, it meant escaping the loneliness of Spinner’s End where memories of his childhood still haunted him. Severus often spent the majority of the ride reading, occasionally turning his attention out the window to appreciate the scenic views of the Scottish Highlands; it was his last moment of peace before another year at Hogwarts spent surrounded by insufferable children and prying colleagues.

It was known by this point in his career that he liked to keep to himself on the train journey, and pretty much any other time, so the other professors granted him his privacy and left him to occupy a carriage alone. Which is why he was shocked to be interrupted such a short time into the journey.

The doors to the cabin shot open, rattling riskily in the frame. They parted to reveal an attractive young woman; dripping wet and gasping breathlessly.

“Oh, thank God.” She exhaled, shuffling her single suitcase through the doors, quickly abandoning it in the middle of the carriage, sparing no thought for Severus’ personal space.

“I’ve never seen a train so busy before. This is the first free carriage I’ve found today.”

“Did it never cross your mind that maybe there is a reason for that?” Severus droned, not bothering to look up from his book.

Ignoring his underhanded comment, Y/N immediately plonked herself down opposite him.

Barely a beat had passed before she started shedding herself of the sodden layers that had been protecting her from the adverse weather conditions outside. Hat, scarfs, jumpers and a thick woollen coat were quickly discarded to the space next to her. As she fumbled about with her gloves, Severus took the opportunity to evaluate her properly.

Despite seeming breathless, presumably from running late for the train, her pearly white smile had not yet faltered.

The rain had drowned her hair; soft waves becoming strings of tight curls, dripping puddles onto her previously dry shirt. Her pale cheeks flushed red from the harshness of the cold air. But what ultimately drew Severus in the most was her sparkling pale blue eyes, dazzling him with their glimmering curiosity as she too scrutinised him.

He arched a single brow in her direction, shaking himself from the daze she had induced in him.

“Y/N.” She held her hand out for him to take.

“Sorry?”

“That’s my name; Y/N.”

Severus’ eyes darted between the woman and the pages of his book, debating whether to engage. With a sigh he folded shut his book, but did not bother to accept her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you.” He sneered sarcastically.

“Ah, so you must be Severus.” She grinned. “The potion’s master I believe, I was always good potions in school.”

Snape’s interest piqued.

“How do you know who I am?”

“A family member told me.”

“The same one you are off to visit?”

“And how do you know I am visiting anyone?” It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

“The size of your suitcase; you don’t plan on staying long.”

“Maybe I’m just a new professor who knows how to pack light.”

“You are not a professor.” He stated matter-of-factly, practically scoffing at the insinuation.

“I’m offended. I could be a professor if I wanted to.”

“You’re too young.” Severus looked her up and down; none of his colleagues looked like her.

“And what age were you when you first started teaching?” She challenged, folding her arms across her chest.

Snape smirked. “You know a lot about me, when I know so little of you.”

“I do my research.” She smirked

“So, are you going to tell me?” He quickly side-tracked the conversation.

“Tell you what?”

“Who you’re visiting.”

“No.”

Severus shot her a questioning glance.

“Once I tell you, you’ll look at me differently.” Y/N explained.

“And how am I looking at you now?”

“…Curiously.”

Severus shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“I’m curious who you could possibly be visiting who would not also be accompanying you on the train.”

“You’ll find out soon enough, but I do not wish to rush the process.”

Severus sighed, sensing this was not an issue the woman would be moved on.

“I do not believe that a person’s parentage dictates who they are. Whatever I think of you now will not change once I discover who your relation is.”

“You say that now, but it’s not something you can control. It happens to everyone when they find out who I am.” The look in her eyes told him this was an issue that really bothered her.

Snape leaned back in his chair, eying the woman inquisitively. He found himself wanting to know everything about her, but was too nervous to ask anything at all.

Y/N broke eye contact first, hunching herself over to get access to her suitcase.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, watching an array of multi-coloured fabrics spill out of the trunk; his eyes caught on a particularly lacy garment before he averted his gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I’m looking forrrr… this!” She brandished a small tin box at him.

“And that is?”

“Cookies.” She grinned. “I never go on a long journey without baking myself a batch; their delicious, and a great conversation starter.”

She thrust the container out to him.

“I believe we have already started our conversation.”

“But their delicious.” She repeated, exaggerating her words. Severus’ eyes dropped to her peachy lips.

Sighing, he gave in and accepted the box from her.

“What are they?”

“Oatmeal and raisin.”

“You do not seem like an oatmeal and raisin type of girl.”

“And you do not seem like a triple chocolate chunk kind of guy. So be grateful I had some ingredients that I needed to get rid of. And I might have eaten all the chocolate myself before I had the chance to bake them.” She blushed.

Severus couldn’t help himself from smirking. The embarrassed look on her face refreshing to him after pinning her as an overconfident know-it-all. Plus, she looked adorable.

Her eyes widened at him.

“Are you smiling?” She gawked.

“I’ve been known to do that occasionally.”

“That’s not what I’ve been told.”

“Then you do not know everything, Miss …?” He waited for her to fill in the blank, she only shook her head in response.

“Why are you smiling.”

Severus thought for a moment if he wanted to expose himself for thinking she was adorable. It was too soon to show all of his cards so willingly, but he didn’t want to lie to the woman, so…

“Oatmeal and Raisin are my favourite cookies.” He admitted, finally plucking one from the box.

“Then the universe was on your side, Severus Snape. It’s destiny.”

Severus was beginning to think she wasn’t entirely wrong about that.

Chucking the half-eaten box of cookies to her, Y/N showed no intention of closing her suitcase and removing it from the middle of the floor. It had quickly become chaos in their carriage and it was slowly starting to get on Severus’ nerves.

“Does this chaos come naturally to you or is it a learned skill?” He quipped.

Y/N’s jaw dropped at his audacity.

“Is my mess bothering you, Severus?”

“It bothered me when you first barged your way in here. Now, it’s borderline unbearable to look at.” His eyes flicked back to the piece of black lingerie sticking out the side of her case.

The young woman bent over once more, tucking all of her garment away and finally zipped the case shut. She neatly folded her piles of scarfs and coat, placing the cookie tin squarely on top.

“Happy now?”

“I’d be more inclined to say yes, if 90% of the floor wasn’t still occupied by your suitcase. There are compartments for them, you know?”

“I know.”

“So, you’re actively choosing to be a nuisance?”

She blushed again, this time avoiding complete eye contact with him.

“I can’t reach, okay? And even if I could it’s far too heavy for me to lift on my own.”

Severus grunted, satisfied with her excuse.

He stood to his full height, grabbing the handle of her case with ease.

“What are you doing?”

“Clearing some space.”

“You’re helping me?” She said, shocked, watching him lift her suitcase into the overhead compartment.

“I’m putting my mind at ease. I cannot sit for much longer in such cramped confines.”

“Strong as well as smart.” She teased. “You’re not at all the man I imagined.”

“Don’t speak too soon. Your opinion will surely change when we arrive at Hogwarts.”

“Why would it change?”

“Because I am not the man you think I am.”

“But you are the man you have shown me to be.”

“Don’t be so sure of that.”

“I’m very sure. You are more this man, than the man I have heard stories about. You have entertained me this entire journey when you simply could have chosen to ignore me. You gain nothing by helping me.”

“You’re wrong.” He raised the last quarter of his cookie to her, before popping it into his mouth with a smirk.

“I don’t care who you show me you are when we get to Hogwarts Severus. It will not change my opinion of you.”

“What is your opinion of me.” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I like you. You’re a good man, behind all of those scowls and sneers.”

Severus wasn’t quite sure how to respond. He had never illicit this reaction from a stranger before, in fact most people didn’t even bother to introduce themselves now adays. His reputation often proceeded him, in the worst possible way.

“Tell me who you’re visiting.” He ventured again.

“No.”

“Why not.”

“I told you; I don’t want- “

“You don’t want me to look at you differently. But how can you still say that after everything you have just said to me.”

“Because it is not me that you’re forming an opinion of. My last name carries more weight than my personality could ever compete with.”

Severus didn’t push the subject anymore, after all, he would find out shortly. The train wasn’t far off its final destination, and Snape found himself wanting to savour what little time they had left together before they seemingly became two entirely different people.

They chatted about a wide variety of subjects ranging from Potions, to the views outside, to what else Y/N loved to bake. Talking to her was easy, like playing a game of tennis; one person set up the serve for the other to rebuttal with perceived ease, each of them trying their best to throw the other off their game, challenging them both the new heights they might never have otherwise reached.

When they pulled into the station Severus helped Y/N out with her case, allowing her to pile back on her layers of protection from the cold. They stepped off the train in line with each other, unsure of how to begin to part ways.

“There you are!” Minerva McGonagall’s familiar voice screeched through the crowds of excitable students. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you; your grandfather wanted me to escort you to the castle. Let’s go Miss Dumbledore.”

Y/N stared into Severus eyes, looking truly defeated. Severus nodded simply in understanding.

“Will I see you again?” She dared to ask.

“I hope so, Miss Dumbledore.” Severus smiled. “I enjoyed getting to know the real you.”

Y/N beamed up at the Potion’s Master, shaking his hand goodbye.

Severus watched on as she disappeared through crowds of children and the steam of the train’s engine.

He really hoped he would see her again.

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pastryfication · 2 months ago

Text

winter wonderland

pairing: kimi antonelli x leclerc!reader

note: i’m not really satisfied with this but it’s cosy and christmassy so we ball 🙂‍↕️

part one of my advent celebration

december had a way of coming creeping just at the right time. it brought a lightness to everything, spreading a nice warm feeling across everything as it rolled around with its christmas cheer and holiday cosiness.

to celebrate christmas that year, your family had rented out a cabin at your favourite ski resort, nestled in the heart of the french alps. it was a tradition you had kept up for a long time, but for the first time, the friend you brought wasn’t just a friend. he was someone much more special.

the small chalet style cabin your brother had arranged for your group was the perfect charming blend of rustic elegance and winter magic. it was made of dark wood with steep, snow-covered roofs adorned with twinkling fairy lights that cast a warm glow as the night settled in. snow piled neatly on the nearby balconies, where wreaths and red ribbons hung along the edges, adding festive touches to the scene.

you and kimi had gotten your own room—much to arthur’s dismay—and it was as magical as the rest of the house. until then, you had enjoyed your evenings together, cuddled in the warm, cozy bed, but as it was your boyfriend’s last night with you before he flew home to spend the holidays with his family, you had decided to go explore a small village located just outside the boarder of the resort.

you were walking along a small road close to the middle of the town. the square was alive with the cheerful hum of holiday spirit, and market stalls lined the cobblestone paths, selling everything from hand-knit scarves to spiced cider and roasted chestnuts. a large christmas tree stood proudly at the center, its branches decorated with delicate glass ornaments and shimmering tinsel, while the soft notes of a carol floated through the air from a street performer’s violin.

beyond the village, you could see the ski runs snake down the mountainside, illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. skiers and snowboarders still dotted the slopes, gliding gracefully down the white mountainside. the peaks of the surrounding alps, capped with snow, rose majestically against the sky shifting from pale blue to the soft lavender of twilight.

it was getting late, and your mum had already sent a message to let you know that you had to be home soon, but everything about the moment was so absolutely perfect, and you didn’t want to break it just yet.

the snow crunched delicately under your boots as you took another step through the magic winter wonderland of the small village. the street performer had changed to a christmas love song, the soft tones creating the perfect backdrop to your walk.

despite the thick, fluffy gloves you both were wearing, kimi’s hand felt warm in yours. every so often, he’d squeeze it a little tighter, a silent signal that made you glance up. his eyes always met yours with that familiar, loving sparkle, sometimes followed by a quick kiss on the tip of your cold nose.

he adored the way you looked all bundled up in your thick coat, scarf and woollen hat with a frosty blush covering your cheeks. it made him all giddy on the inside and he couldn’t help but let his gaze linger as a goofy smile took over his face. it made your heart skip; it was rare to see him this relaxed, away from the newfound pressure of the track and cameras.

“i wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered as you passed a stall selling handmade ornaments. kimi’s fingers squeezed yours again, and when you looked up, he had that smile—the one that made your heart flutter.

“me too,” he said, his voice low and earnest, before he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

you looked at him, puzzled. he turned to you fully and whispered your name, his breath visible in the cold air. “i love you.”

your smile widened, a new blush spreading across your cheeks—this time not from the chill. “i love you more.”

“not possible,” he immediately remarked back, not giving you a chance to protest. even if you hadn’t been able to see his face, you would still have been able to hear the smile in his voice.

you smiled right back up at him, but before you could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. it was short and sweet, both of you smiling into the kiss, and when you pulled apart, giggles filled the air between you.

“we should probably head back,” you said, the reluctance clear in your voice as you glanced at the sky now deepening into night.

he sighed, nodding. “yeah. wouldn’t want to give your brothers another reason to dislike me.”

you pouted, your gloved hand coming up to caress his cheek. “they don’t hate you. they just have a hard time accepting the fact that i’ve grown up.”

he leaned into your touch, nodding his head with soft eyes. “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

✦ ✦ ✦

later, as found yourself at home in the cabin once again, with the glow from the windows of the chalets and lodges reflecting off the snow, casting a magical light over the landscape, you found yourself back at your favourite place in the world: your boyfriend’s arms.

the scent of pine trees and wood smoke came in from the slightly open window and mingled with the faint sweetness of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen, where your mum and charlotte were cooking up snacks for your movie night.

a small fire crackled in the stone fireplace, its warmth spreading throughout the room. your family were all gathered around, laughter and cheerful chatter filling the air. charles emerged from the hallway with a soft smile, leaning down to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss to your temple before he moved on to alex, who sat on the couch with an amused grin, and they exchanged a friendly nudge and a few teasing words.

arthur was sprawled out in one of the armchairs, wrapped in a blanket with only his tousled hair visible. he shot you a playful glare when he caught sight of you and kimi on the loveseat, but it was softened by the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

lorenzo was resting next to him, more up right and put together, but still relaxed in a way he only was around you. next to him, two empty spots were waiting for the rest of your close knit family.

leo was shuffling around on the floor, overwhelmed by the amount of cuddly people within his vicinity. his cute little snout poked at all of you as he surveyed the room, before he finally decided to join you and kimi by jumping into your lap.

you let out a small giggle and went to pet him. as the dog settled in between you, kimi’s arm tightened around you just a bit and you looked up at him with an adoring smile.

this, right here, felt absolutely perfect. this was your epitome of happiness. this was your wonderland. the most magical place in the world.

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months ago

Text

the unveiling

buttercup, chapter five

a/n: I mean, I just had to make him wear the black suit.... (said in a foreshadowing way)

summary: you only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, injuries, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 3236

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Your eyes fluttered shut a moment as you felt the cool night breeze caress your features. You hadn’t bothered with a coat, so it was simply a woollen blanket you clutched around your pyjamas.

Jumping slightly, you whirled around as you heard one of the doors up to the rooftop creak open.

“Oh!” you clutched your chest as you discovered the identity of the intruder, “it’s just you.”

“Hey,” Matt closed the door that led directly down into his loft.

“I was just about to call you actually, or knock on your door, but then I figured that you were probably asleep,” you eyed the dark sweatpants he wore as well as the t-shirt that clung to his brawny arms as he stepped closer to where you stood, a vision that caused sinful thoughts to stir within your mind, “how did you know I was up here?”

“Uh, I didn’t,” his touch found your lower back as he reached you, “I just heard a noise.”

“Well, it’s just me,” you turned your gaze back to the night sky.

Tilting his head, he checked, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just couldn’t sleep,” you nodded, “but I’m okay.”

His eyes twitched slightly as the faintest of smiles threatened at his lips, “so you didn’t wanna call me because something was wrong.”

“No…” you bit down on your smile, “I was just thinking about you…” the smug smirk that then bloomed on his face caused you to instantly chuckle with regret, “oh, that came out sounding a lot more dirty than I intended it to,” the meaning behind your words had been dirty, but he didn’t have to revel in it. Curling his arm around you, his laughter mixed and mingled with your own as you soon exhaled, “man, I should probably head back to bed soon, try and give sleep another chance. I just–, urgh,” you let out an adorable groan and buried your face in his broad shoulder, “I don’t wanna leave now that you’re here.”

“I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want,” he suggested, his tone staying on the lighter side as to not build up any pressure, “you’re welcome to come sleep in my bed if you want to.”

“O-oh,” your gaze fluttered up to flicker across his face, “alright, sure.”

Stepping inside and descending the creaky staircase, the living room was lit up in bright fluorescent shades of lavender by the huge billboard directly outside. Letting the blanket around you drop to the coffee table, you eyed Matt’s dark bedroom before his hand found yours.

“What side do you prefer to sleep on?” you asked as you neared the dusty grey linens adorning his bed.

“I’m fine with either,” his fingers gently brushed across your knuckles before you let go of him.

“Alright,” you slipped in under the silky covers on the side of the bed nearest to you. As he crawled in on the other side, you drew in a sharp breath, “well,” tugging your knees up further towards your chest, you didn’t dare to twist and look at him even though you wished for so much more than a glimpse, “goodnight, Matt.”

His knuckles briefly found your back, caressing it just for a second before he uttered, “night.”

You had never been further from slumber than you were lying there in Matt’s bed. Just the knowledge of him resting right behind you had you hyper-aware of everything. Lying as still as a rock…your ragged breathing… your wild pulse… but mostly the throbbing between your thighs…

Turning slowly to lie on your back, your hand came down to rest on the mattress but landed instead on Matt’s gently closed fist. Instinctively, you yanked it back, recoiled from his warmth just a second before you carefully let your fingers shyly slide across the covers to find him again. The coy dance beneath the duvet was playful till his digits unravelled and welcomed yours.

“…Matt?” your voice came out no louder than a whisper.

“Yeah?”

Glancing over at his visage in the darkness, you asked, “are you very tired?”

With a gentle smile blooming on his lip, a soft shake tilted his head from side to side against the pillow, “no.”

Curling closer, his arms tangled around you in an instant. When your lips brushed against each other at first, for a while it was just this sweet and slow midnight kiss, nothing more, nothing less. But when you nuzzled in nearer, the simple peck grew into something much more heated.

Your leg curled up over his hip, gliding it lavishly against him as his tongue slid across your own. His strong arms felt so incredible around you, but you wanted more, you needed more.

On an exhale, he rolled onto his back, but you weren’t quite sure if he had dragged you with him or if you had clung to him, perhaps a mixture of both. All you knew was that now you were sprawled out on top of him, completely melted against his chest as his lips were still locked with yours.

When you adjusted yourself slightly and shifted down further, your hips instinctively rolled enticingly as you settled atop of his growing hardness, already straining against his sweatpants and desperate to be hugged by your warmth. He let out a low groan as his wide palms slid down the length of your spine and over the curve of your ass.

Parting briefly, you breathed, “Matt?”

“Hm?” he hummed as his lips nipped at your jaw.

“You sure you’re not tired?” your eyes threatened to flutter shut.

“I’m sure,” his hands slid back up to your waist as he let his kisses fade.

Blinking down at him in the darkness, you felt as if your heart could burst out of your chest at any moment, “do you wanna, maybe–, uhm… you know…”

“Do you want to?” his thumb soothingly circled your side and your hips unintentionally rolled once more.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

Your confirmation caused a smile to tug at his lips as he uttered, “okay.”

“Can I–…” your teeth briefly caught your bottom lip, “can I take your shirt off?”

A warm chuckle rumbled within his chest as he nodded lightly. Sitting up, your frame followed along as you didn’t shift to get out of his lap. As your fingers dug into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, he let you pull it off of him yourself.

You couldn’t make out too many of the fine details that decorated his physic, but perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps that’d make it easier. You could always study every millimetre of him later. Right now, the dim vision of him the night granted you was more than enough to turn you into a puddle.

Running your hands over his bare skin, they only stayed a moment before straying away from the warmth to yank your own top off.

One of his hands swiftly soared up and gently caught one of your boobs. A shuttering moan flew from your lips, inadvertently letting Matt know that his intuitive move wasn’t unwelcome, allowing his assurance to grow as he permitted his caresses to move more freely.

Seizing your lips as he softly squeezed your peak, his kisses then began to migrate and dance down the column of your neck till they reached your tits, his palm cupping one closer to his attentive mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered as his lips enclosed around one of your pebbly nipples, his tongue swirling over it before he nipped, causing your core to clench around nothing.

You couldn’t help but stuff a hand into your pyjama pants and offer yourself an ounce of relief.

Gliding his touch down to your bottom, his fingers fleetingly dug into your ass before they slid up to your hips, hooking his digits in the fabric. And with his face still buried in your tits, littering the soft skin with hickeys, Matt slightly tugged at your waistband, “do you want these off?”

Your answer came out sounding breathy, “yes,” before you stopped playing with yourself as he then helped pull both your pants and the soaked underwear beneath them off.

As you settled back down into his lap, he pulled you in and seized your lips. Fingers finding your glistening folds once more, his soon joined yours, digits briefly weaving before your own touch began to falter and you let him take over entirely.

Your head tilted back when he eased a finger inside of your creamy cunt, your juices swiftly coated his digit and dripped down his hand as he caressed you at an overwhelmingly slow pace. His touch made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud and you were already so far gone that when he filled you up with another finger, dreamily giving your eager pussy just a little bit more, you tumbled over the edge.

Eyes only half open as you watched him curve down to plant soft kisses all along your ribs, both of his solid arms wrapped around you and keeping you up as you panted, “do you have a condom?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, “you wanna keep going?”

“Please,” your fingers then tried to push down the remainder of his clothing, “I wanna feel you,” he swiftly aided your efforts and slipped his dark sweatpants off, “I wanna feel all of you.”

Reaching a long arm over into the nightstand’s drawer, Matt fished out a little foil packet. Your foreheads joined and pressed up against one another as he rolled the latex on.

His fingers grasped onto the base of his girth, silkily stroking himself as you supported your wobbly balance on his broad shoulders, steadying yourself as you raised your hips further up. Reaching a hand down, your touch met his as he teased his tip against your puff, nudging at your swollen clit before parting your petals in a lush motion. Your palm briefly floated up to your mouth and collected a dollop of saliva before you lowered it back down, only taking a second to glisten his throbbing cock up with it before you dragged him down towards your entrance.

“Oh my god…” you moaned shakily as you slowly began to sink down upon him, shallowly at first as his arm tightened around your waist to support you, “fuck…”

Trailing his other palm up your quivering thigh, he groaned, “that’s it, take your time,” before his fingers settled where you united, “fuck, you’re doing so good,” he rolled your clit slowly under his calluses, your nectar dripping down his length as you gradually slid further down.

When his dick eventually settled so deep within you that you thought the night sky would appear on the ceiling of his bedroom, you pressed a breathless kiss to his lips.

As you gave his shoulders a slight push, his frame rested back down against the mattress and you followed suit. Tits smooshed down against his chest, his fingers had disappeared from your puffy pearl as you just stayed there a moment, frozen as you took in the staggering sensation of what he felt like buried so deep inside of you that it made you lightheaded.

“This,” you uttered thickly, “this is what I thought about earlier,” your laboured breaths fanned across his face, “and you wanna know what?”

“What?” his answer flowed from him swiftly.

A smile bloomed on your lips as your hips began to roll, “my imagination couldn’t even come close to how amazing you feel.”

As you found a gentle pace, a low moan escaped Matt’s lips as the details of his cock dragged against your silky walls, “christ, sweetheart,” he couldn’t help but buck up into you, an instinct that earned him a lewd whimper of approval.

Keeping up his own efforts, you briefly stole a sloppy peck from him before your spine straightened back up and you established a new and intoxicating rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s it, there you go,” he grunted as you rode him, the majority of his length never strayed from the warmth of your pussy as you electrically rolled and rocked atop of him, “atta girl,” his fingers dug into your hips, “god, you feel so good, fucking perfect.”

As your fingers lowered to find your clit, the bouncing pace you’d found slowly began to waver as you felt yourself begin to near the end once more. Your form then collapsed back down against his as your hips tried and failed to keep up the same euphoric pattern you’d found before.

But as soon as Matt’s hips thrust beneath you, effortlessly hitting a molten spot deep within you that you’d barely managed before on your own, all of your brief worries melted away.

“Matt-,” your face smooshed against his chest as you panted, “h-holy shit!”

Holding your hips steady, he ravenously bucked up into you, “please keep making those noises for me, sweetheart,” his low growl harmonised with the lewd melody of his desperate efforts, “you sound so fucking good.”

As you felt your pussy clamper around him so hard it nearly halted his movements completely, your fingers sought out your nipples in a harsh pinch, trembling above him and crying out as you came undone.

With how tight your cunt clenched down around his throbbing girth, even if Matt didn’t wish for the marvellous moment to end just yet, perhaps fantasise about dragging it out till the sun rose, he couldn't help it as your pussy milked him so perfectly of all of his worth and he joined you in the boneless tangle of satisfaction.

Sluggishly, you clung to him, utterly melted atop of his frame even as he carefully pulled out and nimbly snaked an arm between your limp forms to peel off the spent condom and toss it.

His chest rose and fell with every deep breath beneath your head as he eventually asked, “how do you feel?”

Letting yourself ponder a second and uncover the answer through your haze, you only found yourself thawing further down against him as you let your eyes flutter shut and uttered, “safe.”

Rain hammered against the windows as you rushed out of the door. The sun was nowhere to be seen yet, but your day had already begun.

As you locked your front door with a dull click, a worrying thud halted your feet from scurrying along.

Whirling your head around, you glanced to the source of the concerning crash, at your neighbour’s door, before slowly walking up and letting your fist softly collide with it. There never came an answer, not even when you tried again, that time more forcefully.

Unable to shake that unsettling concern off of you, your feet carried you up to the roof and the apartment’s emergency exit. As your fingers enclosed around the cold knob, you momentarily snapped yourself out of your unease.

Maybe something wasn’t wrong. Maybe Matt hadn’t hurt himself and desperately needed help. Maybe, even though your ears had interpreted the sound as something troublesome, it could have just been that he wasn’t alone, that perhaps you weren’t the only girl he let into his bed, perhaps one more prone to making a ruckus.

Either way, it wasn’t under any circumstances appropriate for you to not only invade his privacy, but literally break into his home, yet you still found your fingers slowly twisting the door handle.

Just one peek. If he didn’t need someone to call for an ambulance, then you’d slip right back out, even if whatever the true cause was broke your heart.

You only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

You scarcely breathed as you slowly neared him. Even in the low pre-dawn light, you were able to make out the slashes that tore up parts of his black suit. Carefully, you kneeled down beside him as your eyes scanned over his wounded frame.

You had to do something. The vigilante had saved your life, so the very least you could do was repay him the favour.

Spotting a trickle of crimson drip down from beneath his black mask, streaking down across his gruff jaw, with a trembling hand you pulled the mask further up to get a better look at how grave the injury was, only for you to discover who was hiding behind the disguise.

“…Matt?”

Settled on the couch and with a dark blanket draped over him, only covering some of the scars the darkness hadn’t let you spot previously, Matt stirred awake.

From one of the armchairs, you hugged your knees closer to your chest as you uttered, “hi,” your voice came out sounding small and fragile.

Freezing up, Matt’s head tilted toward you, “Y/n?” he cautiously spoke, “what–… when did you get here?”

“A few minutes before Foggy did,” his friend had shown up, concerned out of his mind when Matt hadn’t answered his phone after recklessly throwing himself into a stupidly dangerous plan. He’d stayed a while, for as long as he could till he eventually had to leave, “I heard a noise, thought something was wrong and you needed help…”

“You–… you know…” he stated, and you just let your crushing silence confirm it, “…did you patch me up?”

“No, that was a friend of yours that Foggy called–, Claire I think, but that was a while ago. You were out cold for a really long time,” you averted your gaze and stared down at your hands, letting the silence momentarily consume the space before you hesitantly opened your mouth once more, “…how do you–… Foggy tried to explain to some extent, but how do you–, how do you do it?”

“It’s complicated,” he said slowly, letting out a hushed groan as he carefully pushed himself up to a seated position.

“Complicated, how?”

A low exhale flowed from his lips before he uttered, “…I know that yesterday you worked with strawberries. You didn’t eat any, but I can still smell them beneath your fingernails from when you cut them up… I know you’re hungry right now and the only thing you’ve eaten since breakfast was an apple a bit ago. I can still taste it off your lips… and I know that me telling you all of that is making you uncomfortable… because I can hear your heartbeat… but I’m not scaring you.”

Blinking back at him, you saw your chest rise and fall rapidly in your periphery, “wow… I mean, Foggy did say that your senses were sharp, but that–… I can’t fucking believe it…”

Bowing his head lightly, his jaw clenched, “you have every right to be angry–”

“Angry?” you repeated, your eyes growing wide, “Matt… it’s you. It was you…” tears began to blur up your vision, “did you–… did you know who I was when I moved in here or was that first when I told you about that night?”

Staying quiet a moment, he eventually nodded, “yeah. I knew… I am so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Matt,” rising from the chair, at an instant, you’d crossed to his side and sat down on the couch beside him, “you helped me, you saved me. That was you. You’re–…” hands drifting up to carefully cup his scruffy cheeks, you uttered, “you’re him.”

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort #marvel smut #matt murdock fluff

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kenzieluvsnanami · 4 months ago

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girl i want a cozy nanami drabble with some smut.... NOW.

autumn ☆

cw // vv self indulgent, set in cold, cold autumn, you guys come home from work and he eats you out and then you eat (FOOD) dass it. (18+) // wc 2.4k

it was the finallly end of a long work day. you could feel a dull ache in the soles of your feet as you made the laboursome, arduous (it was only 20 minutes) walk back to your apartment.

your apartment.

it was weird to think of the place in which you resided as such. if we wanted to get technical about it, this was your boyfriend's residence originally.

the only reason why you could call it yours was his insistence on spending as much time as possible with you - your dates spanning days on end as the two of you were reluctant to separate at the end of them, preferring to just pack an overnight bag so you could spend that much longer with each other.

eventually it got to the point where the overnight bag started to look more like you were ready for a long-haul overseas flight, with your dates turning into life together, meeting up and the end of each others’ respective shifts and waving each other off at the start of a new one the next day. it was once you realised how perfectly your lives intertwined that you made the last ever trip to your apartment, belongings packed away in boxes rather than bags as you began your new life in what was now your apartment.

you fumbled clumsily for the key in your coat, silently cursing the cold, crisper climate of autumn for forcing you to bundle up so excessively - brown woollen coat buttoned down with the belt tied tight, a cream scarf encircling your neck and the lower portion of your face to keep from freezing your ears off.

even though it was not yet winter, as soon as you could feel that temperature change from summer to fall, the winter coats, boots, scarves, hats and mittens all got pulled out from the back of the closet. whilst your coat and scarf had kept you nice and cosy on your walk home from the office, they were now severely hindering your escape from the harsh cold to the protected warmth of the apartment.

plunging your hands into the ungodly amount of pockets you were now discovering your coat had was taking up most of your attention, which is probably why you hadn’t noticed a presence behind you; an arm leisurely reaching over your shoulder and unlocking the door with a practised ease that only one person could possibly hold…

your head whipped backwards to see who this intruder was, only to catch sight of a face that you had grown to know all too well - umber eyes slightly crinkling in amusement at your shock as he leaned forward to greet you properly and apologise for the panic caused, a soft kiss pressed to the side of your pouted lips.

that one kiss quickly turned to another and then one more, creeping slowly towards the centre of your lips. you tried to stay unrelenting to his advances, still annoyed that he’d been able to scare you like that. large hands cupped your face as he drew you closer to his downturned face, slightly turning your face to the side, allowing his tongue better access - running along your firmly closed lips; seeking out a vulnerable point that would let him in.

unfortunately, your stubbornness could only last so long as a soft stroke of his fingertips along the edge of your face caused you to gently sigh, the warmth of his hands on your icy face rendering you defenceless. sliding his tongue in with a muted moan as he allowed his hands to lazily meander down your frame, smoothing down your coat over your curves. hands coming to a rest at the small of your back, firmly pressing you into his front as the two of you leisurely made out on the porch - the opened door casting a golden light on you.

after what felt like hours, your boyfriend slowly pulled himself away, his swollen, pink lips quirking up as he took in your dazed expression; an improvement from your previously furrowed brows.

“did i startle you?” he queried, well intentioned but you could both hear the hint of amusement in his voice.

whilst you wouldn’t call your boyfriend a comedian, when the opportunity allowed he could be… amusing.

in his defence, he had been walking quite loudly - a slight turn of your head allowed for you to see the trail of crunched leaves left in his wake which would have normally given you an apt amount of time to be alerted to his presence… if you hadn’t been so occupied by your stupid pockets.

“ken..i swear to god, do not do that again”

the hallway was filled with muffled chatter as the two of you discussed your individual days - lamenting about lazy bosses, entitled coworkers and broken copiers.

whilst both of you shared, kento much preferred to hear about the specifics of your day than share about his own; his follow up questions to your small quips leading to lengthy discussions in the kitchen as the two of you deliberated on what to eat tonight.

“welll, i mean i never thought about what her home life was like. i guess i just thought she was just a bitch for no reason” a rich laugh rumbled from his chest as you said that, the bluntness of your words being something that he found endearing.

you were perched on the marble island, intently watching your boyfriend chop the ingredients for what was going to soon be dinner.

you didn’t know what looked more delicious - the food or nanami; blazer discarded on the sofa, leaving him in just a crisp, white shirt and a pair of strained slacks. he had rolled up his sleeves to avoid staining his shirt exposing muscular forearms that slightly strained as he chopped. his large stature was emphasised by the way his back seemed to taper in, tailored shirt hanging of broad shoulders and getting slimmer as you get further down his back.

now whilst you hated to see your boyfriend go, you also loved to watch him leave, especially when he was wearing these slacks, the way they wrapped around his thighs and butt making him look like a christmas present that you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on. as he glided around the kitchen, you found yourself getting more and more hungrier but for something a little less edible.

you honestly had no idea how long you’d been sat there just staring, your thoughts being interrupted by the deep, resonant baritone of your boyfriend's voice -no clue what he’d actually said, wordlessly following him into living room as he waited expectantly.

“don’t you want to sit down?” an eyebrow quirked as he looked you up and down, your shifty expression usually meaning you had been caught ogling - but as far as he knew, that was as far as you wanted to go.

you slouched into your usual position in the corner of the sofa as kento nestled himself next to you, arm reaching around the back of your head to pull you in closer. whilst this affection was lovely… it definitely didn't help keep the thoughts in your mind pure, resorting to squeezing your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure that was starting to build up.

now if you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your own thoughts, you would’ve caught the side-long glance your boyfriend had been giving to you, trying to gauge why you had such a vacant, antsy expression - impassively watching what he thought was a movie you had really wanted to see.

now that he’d thought about it, he’s definitely seen that look on your face before, the slight scrunch in your brows only visible when you couldn’t have something you really wanted... and if it meant what he thought it meant, there was only one way to proceed.

“my love, you told me your feet were quite sore. did you want me to give them a massage?” innocently probed your boyfriend, your legs raising themselves as you shuffled down to allow them to lay limp in his lap.

his fingers skilfully worked, rubbing and kneading out the discomfort from your soles; the warmth radiating from his hands combined with massage felt sooooo good, eyes falling shut as your head lolled back.

once satisfied he had fully dissipated the discomfort in your feet, your boyfriend decided to test the waters, lifting up the leg closest to him and pressing a kiss into the inner ankle - not missing the way you slightly shuddered under his grip. hazel eyes scrutinising your small frame; the exaggerated rise and fall of your chest, the way your face was scrunched in pleasure and the way you tried to subtly rub your thighs together…

his first theory was correct.

he moved away, a whine falling from your lips at the loss of contact, eyes opening to see why only to find blond tresses nestled between your legs; nipping and licking on the smooth skin.

ah.

you’d thought you mastered the art of subtlety but it seems that as always, your boyfriend had painfully seen through you. although you weren’t all too upset about that fact, the way his mouth his travelled up your legs making you feel more and more flustered.

soft moans escaped your lips as he finally reached your upper thighs, fingers digging into the fat of them as he teasingly looked back up at your dazed expression.

“seems like someone felt a little needy today, hm?” his voice a low rumble that vibrated right through you, your legs hooking around his shoulders and pressing into his back, in an attempt to force him into the one place where you needed him.

“that’s not how you ask for something, darling…” whilst nanami tried to put up a front as if he was not at all affected by your yearning, you could see this was not the case - his pupils dilated as he gazed upon your leaking cunt, shallow breaths fanning across your inner thigh.

“let’s try to use our words, okay?” tone switching from his usual coolness to a much more heated, authoritative one as you tried to calm yourself enough to formulate a coherent sentence.

“tell me what you want me to do” he ordered as slender fingers hooked into the sides of your underwear, pulling them down at an agonisingly slow pace.

“i- i want you to…. ngh…” your breaths had turned into pants as your panties had been pulled off, oozing cunt getting more and more sensitive as it was exposed to the cooler air in the room.

your boyfriend paused, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

“….eat me out” your voice trailing off into a whisper, the room falling completely silent for a moment - the only sound being your combined heavy breaths.

seeming pleased with your answer, you watched in awe as your courteous, sweet boyfriend gathered a fat wad of saliva in his mouth and allowed it to gradually dribble down his lips onto your twitching cunt, eyes locked onto yours as his saliva slid down across into the vast expanse of your inner thighs.

you felt slightly emboldened under his gaze, biting your lip as you removed your blouse; leaving you in just a skirt and lace bra. you didn’t miss the way his eye faintly twitched at your movements, his head positioned in a way so that he could still hold eye-contact as he dragged his tongue along your inner folds, close to your throbbing clit but just around it - teasing you.

“mmmh, you always taste so good” murmured nanami as he continued his teasing licks around your pussy, your back arching into the sofa as you threaded your hands into his blond tresses, desperately trying to guide his head to your swollen bud.

your nails scratched at the back of his head as you tugged on his hair, drawing out an extended, low groan that reverberated back into your sensitive cunt; the stimulation becoming so intense.

your boyfriend finally decided to move to your neglected bud, spit and slick sodden lips dragging along to your clit - sucking hard.

your mewls had increased in volume and pitch as the pleasure became so overwhelming, your orgasm creeping up on you; the pressure seeming to almost all gather at once as you cried out

“ohmygodddddddd, ken im g-going to…” you were gasping for air at this point, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, anything to prolong the blissful experience of feeling your boyfriend's plush lips slide along your swollen cunt.

“mmh hmm baby, just let go for me” murmured your boyfriend, the vibrations of his voice pushing you over the edge; head lolled back over the side of the couch as you came hard, walls spasming around nothing as you fell deep into the mind-numbing pleasure of your orgasm.

after what felt like hours, you opened your eyes to find yourself clean and changed, work clothes swapped out for your favourite set of pyjamas. the delicious aroma of what had to be dinner being what roused you from your light slumber, slippers padding along the hallway as you crept back to the kitchen.

“something smells good…” you mused aloud, stepping further into the kitchen to be greeted with two heaving bowls of pasta on the dining table.

“someone was sleepy, hm?” nanami raised an eyebrow in jest as he placed large palms on your shoulders, gently guiding your weary body to the chair he’d pulled out for you - tucking you in as you sat.

he silently filled both of your glasses as you contentedly ate, your conversation getting more and more animated as the food hit your empty stomach, a blissful smile on your boyfriend's face as he watched you hurriedly slurp down the glass of merlot he’d poured, slender fingers sliding his own glass towards you, knowing your penchant for a deep bodied wine.

dishes were washed and left on the drying rack as the two of you quickly cleaned the countertops and stove, eager to clamber into your shared bed and properly rest.

you washed your faces and brushed your teeth in tandem, your boyfriend crouching down slightly so you could properly apply your snail serum under his eyes and temples, your skincare routine becoming something that the entire household was expected to adopt.

finally it was time for bed. the small lamp was on as your boyfriend wore his small reading spectacles, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he immersed himself in the latest victorian novel to his collection. you nestled yourself deeper into your cashmere sheets as you felt yourself being drawn deeper and deeper into a heavy, peaceful slumber… in your apartment.

a/n :: currently in my inactive era 😩 schools been kicking my asssss and its only been a few weeks.... pt!sukuna willl come soon but honestly i can only write when im in the mood and recently i haventtttt been 🌚 anyways this was inspired by all the incredible nanami ff ive been greedily guzzling down the past few days on ao3

#yes i sent myself an ask #i didnt know how to introduce the drabble im sorry if thats corny 😩😩😩#kenzieluvsnanami #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami drabbles #nanami kento #jujutsu nanami

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lesorciercanadien · 11 days ago

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My Current Inventory of Magic Tools

Here's a list of tools I use in my spiritual practice that can inspire others that are on this path! While some are heritage pieces that cost a lot of money up-front due to craftsmanship, the every-day tools are pretty inexpensive. For example, most candles can be found at the dollar store, and incense can be personalized to your taste. For my practice, I use cedar incense, since it is known as a cleansing plant in the Christian tradition, and many Acadian and Québécois households used cedar on Palm Sunday before palms became widely available.

Most of the heritage pieces, for anyone wanting to participate, I strongly encourage investing a few extra dollars to get good quality items! It will last you years of magical practice, and you can use them with pride.

La ceinture fléchée - the woven sash

A symbol of identity to the Métis living on the Canadian plains, the historical Huron-Wendat people, and historically worn by French voyageurs and fur traders and their indigenous partners in trade, these sashes were strapped around the waist. These were mostly useful in keeping the woollen coats closed, store belted tools, help with the strain of carrying heavy pelts, and prevent hernias and back strain on long canoe expeditions. The long strands on the end could also be used as impromptu sewing thread. These sashes would reach about 15cm to 25cm and its length easily passes 2 metres. These sashes were traded among indigenous groups for furs, and later, by the Hudson's Bay Company in the 19th century. It became a part of the traditional Québecois peasant clothing at least since 1776. As the sash travelled upriver to the plains and beyond, Métis groups adopted the sashes, elaborated on its craftsmanship, and truly made it one of their most recognized symbols. Depending on where the sash is woven, the colours can change. For example, for Québec, they preferred a blue colour scheme, for Montréal, red, and for those woven in between Ottawa and the Red River, black was more prominent. Hand-woven sashes can take up to 500 hours to complete. (1)

The one pictured above I bought from Etchiboy, a Métis artisan. The sash I bought was inspired from the Assomption sash motif, one of the oldest known woven patterns from the 18th century. I wear it on my woodland wanderings, for rituals, and cultural days. I especially wear it in winter to keep my coat closed. I chose to adopt the sash into my practice after lots of research. It is an item of rich history between the French and their indigenous allies, and a consequence of the fur trade in our country. I encourage anyone who's interested to buy from artisans who hand-weave them! There are machine-woven ones nowadays that might be less expensive, but nothing beats the quality of good wool and good weaving. With the richness of variety in the weaving patterns depending on the region they're from, why not have a sash that harkens back to the history of your region?

The walking stick or 'le gourdin'

In Québécois folktales, the stick, known as 'the gourdin', was most seen as a gift from a woodland fairy (like a guardian of all trees, or a mistress of the birds) to the intrepid hero Ti-Jean. This magical stick could thwack all his adversaries with the simple command of "tappe, gourdin!" (slap, stick!), among other fabulous deeds (2) This stick was a tool of protection on long journeys fraught with peril. So, what better companion to the Canadien witch than a walking stick? I use mine for every excursion, and have added to it some talismans of a wolf, owl and skull to keep evil spirits at bay. There's also a portable rosary around the stick, and the Ste. Anne of Beaupré religious medal. Historically, she was often a saint prayed to by voyageurs before they undertook the long and perilous journey to the fur trading posts, usually near present-day Montreal. (3)

The pocket knife

The pocket knife is a multi-talented tool of our trade! It can carve folksy figurines, cut wooden branches for weaving, harvest plants, cut curses, and keep les feux-follets (willow-the-wisps) at bay. Folklore has it that if you're out camping in the woods, fold you knife so that it creates a 90-degree angle, and stick it into the bark of a tree bordering your campsite. In the morning, if the blade is bloody, chances are it was the feux follet being intrigued by the space between the blade and the tree, and cutting its throat, thereby being free from its doomed roaming. (4) It is also a well-known tool in case you need to free a loup-garou (werewolf) from its curse by cutting it on its white spot on the forehead where he previously received communion as a kid. (5) By extension, it is a vital tool to break curses. Of course, don't make anyone bleed with the knife. That goes without saying. Treat the knife well, keep it sharp.

The rosary

Yes, my path has Catholic tools in it. Of course! Quebecois and Acadians of my ancestry were Catholic people primarily. It is a versatile tool in my practice, used for spellwork as well as meditative prayer. For those who are interested in praying the Rosary traditionally, I'll create a separate post. For spellwork purposes, I usually say a round of "Hail Mary" ten times before starting a spell for the ultimate protective shield. There is also known folk uses for the rosary in Acadian and Québécois communities. For example, to fidget with the rosary without intent or purpose brings about the Devil. (6) The rosary can also be used as a tool to find lost items. Simply toss the rosary over your shoulder, and the crucifix will point in the direction of the lost item. If you want good weather on your wedding day, hang up your rosary on your laundry cord the day before. (7). Rosaries nowadays even come in decade forms as portable rings for your pocket, and some are actual rings you can wear on your finger. I got a few rosaries myself. One for special rituals (I never toss that one over my shoulder!), and cheaper, more portable options for the tossing spell.

Holy medals

I amassed quite a collection of holy medals for individual saints. Other notable ones are those for the souls in Purgatory (worn on All Souls Day), the Holy Spirit at (worn on Pentecost or when I do divination), Jesus the Shepherd (it's comforting), Stella Maris (patron saint of Acadians). I have a few of the same for more frequented purposes, for example, I keep a Saint Luke medal on my artist's pencil case, since he is the patron saint of artists. Traditionally in Acadian communities, it was known that when your day was going awfully, and your bread dough just wouldn't rise, you just needed to boil some holy medals in water to turn your luck around (8). They are quite inexpensive, so it's fast and easy to grow a collection in a short period of time. Many catholic retailers sell them.

Divination tools : the playing cards, dice and coin

My divination tools can be found in anyone's cupboard and drawers. The trusty playing cards deck nowadays comes in such amazing variety of art, the one I picked for myself was the Bicycle Aviary Playing Cards. It has such a lovely folk art vibe to them! The way to divine them comes from sources of card-playing and superstitions from history and folktales from folklorist Marius Barbeau, and people over centuries carrying around the cards for entertainment and perhaps a glimpse into their futures. One guide on reading the cards: Fifty-Four Devils: The Art & Folklore of Fortune-Telling with Playing Cards by Cory Thomas Hutcheson. Dice can also be used in the same manner if you're doing a numerology-based divination. The coin can be used as a simple yes or no divination by playing 'heads or tails'. The coin can be a beautiful commemorative coin like mine, or a simple 'cenne noire' (blackened penny), or whatever currency you have on hand.

The sewing kit and fibre arts

I wanted to add this iconic cookie tin into the folk witch's repertoire, because we all had grandmothers who had this tin lying around with their tools to mend and sew anything. In my practice, and in my hobbies, I make clothing and I embroider. I can use this tin to house my relevant supplies to have some sacred time darning old socks, creating spiritual garments by hand, or embroidering pretty things. You can also draw sigils on the rim's inner side for blessing your items inside! There's also other uses for some of these tools in your home! For example, my great-great grandmother used to use her thimble to create the holes in her croxignoles, these woven doughnut style rings from the Magdalen Islands.

Musical spoons

Musical spoons, sometimes made of wood to be used for musical purposes, as shown here, or made from every-day metal spoons held together for the same effect, are an iconic instrument in French-Canadian folk music. I would recommend learning how to play them rhythmically and to use that as a grounding tool. I just find these way more authentic than a drum. Not to mention rhythmic foot tapping and step dances are frequently used in our folk music to set up a beat.

Woven Cloths

These beautiful cloths or 'serviettes' were woven by my mother on a giant hand-loom, often employed by local farmer's guilds in Québec. Les Cercles des Fermières du Québec sometimes has craft fairs where they sell these among other hand-crafted items. In folklore, the cloth was present when Ti-Jean needed to create a magical feast on the fly, create a magical tent for shelter, or carry around all his tools for his journey. These cloths however were almost always given by a fay creature, so best be cautious in eating food from it. Nowadays, it can be used as altar cloths, protective shields for your tools, or to apply healing energy to an ailment you carry. (9) I use mine to do my card readings, wrap special items. If you are lucky enough to find a 'catalogne', which is a heavy blanket woven on those big looms from scraps of old t-shirts, cottons and the like, that's like, a massive cloth you can have over your bed and its folkloric properties can be used for protection and good dreams. It is also the best weighted blanket for anxiety, tried and tested by me! Mine was woven by my grandmother.

Cited sources

Wikipedia "Ceinture Fléchée" consulted on Jan 21 2025/ 2. Barbeau 1st series/ 3. Podruchny / 4. Butler/ 5. Maillet / 6. Dupont 83. / 7. Dupont 122. / 8. Dupont 83. / 9. Barbeau 2nd series

Bibliography

Barbeau, Marius, « Contes populaires canadiens », The Journal of American Folkore, vol. 29, no 111, janvier-mars 1916, 154 p.

Barbeau, C.-Marius. “Contes Populaire Canadiens. Seconde Série.” The journal of American Folklore 30, no. 115 (Jan-Mar., 1917): 27-36. http://www.jstor.org/stable/534454.

Butler, Gary R. Histoire et traditions orales des Franco-Acadiens de Terre-Neuve. Québec 1995. p. 156

Dupont, Jean-Claude. Heritage d’Acadie. Collection Connaissance, éditions Lemeac. 1977.

Maillet, Antonine. Rabelais et les traditions populaires en Acadie. Les presses de l’université Laval, Quebec. 1980.

Podruchny, Carolyn. Making the Voyageur World: Traveler’s and Traders in the North American Fur Trade. University of Toronto Press. 2006.

#witchblr #folk magick #french canadian #quebec #folk magic #acadia #canadian #witchcraft #christianity #catholic #folklore

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hwaightme · 2 years ago

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Safe and San

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR MOUNT'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist)

🟡 pairing: san x afab!reader 🟡 genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship 🟡 summary: in the coolness of an early morning, choi san reveals to you what it means to love in a quiet timelessness, where all that exists is you, him, and the sunrise. 🟡 wordcount: 5.3k 🟡 warnings/tags: fiance san, falling asleep in the living room reading together, sharing hoodies, just loving each other, summer season - yes it is spring but now it is summer because san said so, hoodie san, cuddles, hugs and kisses, sort of edited sort of not (lmk if there is intense chaos anywhere) 🟡 taglist: @doom-fics @legohwa @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven 🟡 a/n: seriously idk where this came from, all I know is that I have been occasionally mindblanking and... here we are. Much love and all reblogs, comments, notes welcome <3

🟡 nsfw taglist: the petname content is intense in this one (sun, moon, stars, summer, honey, darling, love... nicknames...), all the praise, lazy sex, no protection (wrap before tap c'mon), cum inside, cockwarming, sex while in a state of semi-dress, fingering, the softest dom san, basically a service dom

The early morning haze entranced you. An ever-changing palette, the walls of your living room appeared to take on a different hue every time you languidly blinked, still fighting the heavy remnants of sleep. After having forgotten to completely draw the curtains, the luminescence of the cheerful, expectant sun crept across the cold wooden floor in a shy line, barely caressing the cream wall on the other side of the room, centimetres away from producing a kaleidoscopic scene by hitting the glass inserts of the shelving unit. The soft cushions that lined the l-shaped couch, and the woollen throw that hid you from the chill, were a cloud suspended in a tranquil bliss. You studied the familiar, adored surroundings as they metamorphosed from a lilac wonder to a glowing mandarin masterpiece, the brushstrokes of a pastel pink, coating the awakening sky, peeking from the other side of the window, capturing your bleary attention.

Not a sound, except for the level breathing of the man beside you. The man who had your love so fully, so deeply that you were not sure if the slow thudding in your chest was real, or was simply an echo, a comfortable illusion that you had agreed to settle for just so that you could give the heart away for him to keep. He would most definitely keep it safe. Find a neat little box for it, and, if you were lucky, find a place for it somewhere between the books and the video game DVDs, and admire it whenever he would walk past. Or perhaps he would be crafty enough to find a way of putting it in his pocket and carrying it around with him wherever he went – that way, you could miss him less than you normally did when you were apart. Shame you only had one heart, because you would give Choi San the universe if you could.

Your fiancé was like the grand starry expanse in the night, paving the way for explorers, lovers, and mystical creatures alike, and the radiant manifestation of Apollo in the day, bestowing upon the earth a hope, a heavenly brilliance, a magic the secret to which only he knew. With each moment that passed, you had come to understand that there was always more to San. Be it hidden in a sigh, in an enchanting glimmer in his eyes or in a simple gesture, he was an ethereal enigma that you were shocked, and infinitely grateful, existed.

Careful to not disturb him, which was a challenge in its own right considering that you had used his broad chest as your pillow, you lifted the throw ever so slightly and rose into a seated position. You gingerly adjusted the material back, and twisted yourself to be seated on the edge, and facing the literal sleeping beauty before you. You let your eyes travel across his resting face. From his forehead that was obscured by adorably ruffled onyx locks that poured out from underneath his grey hoodie. To his eyelids and lashes that showed the tiniest movement, making the soft light occupying the room land onto the little hairs and turn them to white gold. Down to the perfect line of his nose, the tip of which you liked to plant a quick peck on when you wanted to see your fiancé get flustered. And to his alluring lips which were parted ever so slightly. In the somnolent daze there was an angelic quality to him, a peace that you wanted to sink into and never depart from.

This was one of the first mornings in a while, that you had all the time in the world to keep on staring. For the most part, it was either you or San, or both of you having to get up and rush out of the door for work after having snoozed the alarm a ‘healthy’ number of times. Which is why it was surprising that you were even awake – five o’clock was not exactly your usual territory, and if not for the summer season blessing you with longer hours of sunshine, it was likely that you would not have distinguished between dream and reality, and dozed off lulled by the rise and fall that came with San’s every breath. But your wakefulness had its beauty: there was no stress spurring you on, and the sight of your love beside you, serenity written across his features, made you grateful for the surprising perkiness. For this short while, your personal heaven could be committed to memory, and serve as a transformation for every future when you would need to ‘rise and shine’.

You spotted San’s reading glasses lying, discarded, between his body and the back of the couch, inches from being squashed, while the books you and him had been reading were lying in awkward positions on the floor, much to your amusement. Careful not to damage the pages any more than they had been, you reached to pick the novels up, momentarily studying the covers before marking the pages with what turned out to be a folded receipt and a post-it with the glue segment torn off, and placing them on the coffee table. You settled back into a seated position, tucking one of your legs under you and pulling down the base of your oversized tee. A shiver passed down your back, reminding you of the fact that the air conditioner, your saving grace after the summer heat kicked in, rendering natural ventilation impossible if you wanted fresh air not laden with pollution and unbearable humidity, had been running at full power all night. Only now that you have removed yourself from the human radiator that was your fiancé did you realise this, and began to construct an escape plan that, hopefully, would not break San's peaceful slumber. If you were lucky, perhaps you could snatch and save his glasses.

These small troubles, trivialities of daily life were what brought a smile to your face. Endearing dilemmas that left you confident that what you were experiencing was a continuous blessing. Tongue between your teeth, poking ever so slightly out of your mouth, you concentrated on stalking towards the spectacles. Having stood up from the sofa, you were in a half crouch, bare feet sinking into the soft carpet, with only the rumble of the air conditioner to accompany you. When you were already hovering above San's chest, arm out reached to fish out your target, your breath hitched as he shifted and smacked his lips, following the adorable gesture by placing his arm, which previously was your only line of defence against falling off the sofa, over his abdomen, which in turn made the glasses fall a little deeper, just out of your reach. You mouthed a 'now what', contemplating your next course of action - you were getting cold, but too stubborn to accept a so-called defeat in this miniature game of capture the metaphorical flag.

The only way out was to summon the powers of feline agility and hope that San decided to be a deep sleeper today. Knee sinking into the edge of the pillow, the stitching digging into your skin as you inched forward while trying to keep a toe still on the ground, a peculiar source of security for the case that a quick retreat might be needed. Fingers flittering across the material, reminiscent of the pitter patter of rain - every effort to blend into the dormant landscape, an accidental echo of a season recently culminated. Closer and closer, your leg was a mere few centimetres away from San's torso, and you were arched over him, checking for any sudden changes in his position. But he was still. Almost too still. You narrowed your eyes and scanned his face, but could not detect any difference, aside from his mouth now being pressed together, however he did that in his sleep on occasion, so you paid it no mind. Suppressing a shiver, what used to be careful manoeuvring turned into risk as you took one final look at what you determined to be the sleeping form beneath you, and made a reach for the glasses, quietly hissing out a congratulations to yourself as soon as you felt your fingers touch the frame. Just a little more and you would be able to go get a sweater. Or turn the air conditioning off. Perhaps, since you were still occasionally blinking away the remnants of dreamland, you would get a cup of morning brew ready, and properly greet the sunrise by lounging on the tiny, but nevertheless welcoming terrace encased in shimmering glass. Or so you had hoped, until, as you were making your so-called journey back, a strong pair of arms snaked around your waist, and sharply pulled you in, so you now found yourself pressed flush against your sleepyhead love.

“Hmm… where are you going?” San mumbled, voice deep and groggy, resonating right above you as you wiggled to nuzzle into his neck, triumphantly holding onto his specs with one hand, pleased with yourself for having accomplished your initial task.

“‘s cold, so I need something warm.” It always took some time for him to register what you would say to him as he was waking up – on a number of occasions, he had not been able to recollect a single thing. So you kept your words simple, but even that made him give an exasperated whine as he hugged you tighter and rubbed the side of his face against your head, resulting in his hood being pushed back to reveal more of the heavily ruffled locks of jet black hair.

“But you have me… Y/N…” while answering you, San had managed to kick away the blanket fully, so that it now formed a dark grey heap at the other end of the sofa.

“I didn’t want to wake you, love,” you whispered back, shutting your eyes and relishing in the sensation, “you looked so cute and so peaceful.”

“What?” the sudden question made you raise your head momentarily, only to find San squinting right at you, “Nah… no.”

“No? My Sannie isn’t cute?” you asked, voice tinged with playful disappointment as you let your head fall back down, and took a deep breath.

Much like the early morning light, the mixture of cotton and San’s cologne was unequivocally captivating. It was the scent of the lazy days, the moments when you would allow yourselves to fall asleep, much like today, on the living room couch, legs intertwined after having spent the entire evening reading. An aroma of an embrace, a slow dance and a humming of a tune that only you knew, the notes that carried with themselves the melody of sweetest memories. The interplay of hemlock and bergamot, accompanied by heliotrope and mimosa – when you had pestered San enough times, he had read the profile out for you, the brief paragraph now forever imprinted in your mind in his timeless timbre.

A hand travelled underneath your t-shirt, trailing up and down your spine a couple of times before settling on tracing random patterns on the small of your back. You stifled a gasp as your fiancé took to toying with the waistband of your tracksuit bottoms, and, still laden with sleep, grunted and uttered his short, gruff retort.

“Not when I’ve read what I’ve read… ‘m surprised I even fell asleep.”

“Oh? And what was it you read?” a soft grin settled on your face as you sank into the feeling of San’s hands moulding you to his heart’s content. Unable to settle for one place, they roamed your body, worshipping every curve.

“Mm… too sleepy to explain…” he leaned into you, and upon nudging you to lie down a little bit higher, trailed a series of kisses down from your jawline to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, “…but I could show you.”

“Is that so? Well, I’m more than interested.”

“Wake me up a little bit more and I’ll give you a spoiler.” One of his hands travelled to meet your chin, and tilt it forwards so that his dark, glowing pools of adoration could meet yours, pupils trained on every micro expression despite being cradled in a blur, contained by relaxed lids and wispy eyelashes.

“Such a tease, Sannie.” You whispered, and gave into San’s guidance towards his soft lips, closing the space between you.

The infinite gradient of the sky’s spectacular hues exploded in your vision, as love’s intimate caress ignited a radiance within. With every passing moment, just as the cherry blossoms twirled to the ground in a muted waltz, giving way to flamboyant hydrangeas and mystical lilies, you too, fell deeper and deeper only to bloom once again with a new evolved adoration. A love that grew day in, day out. A love that motivated you to go on until tomorrow, for you knew that you would love even more then, and come to understand the naïve emptiness that you had trusted to be infatuation in the past. Fuller and fuller the soul became. The fuelled up inner fire that contained and protected your safe haven and your eternal paradise. While lilac skies and lavender fields blended into a heavenly unity only for a season, gifting natural beauty for a fleeting appreciation of its temporary existence, the reality that you and San had crafted was evergreen. It was, of course, expected to waver, much like any flowers that were meant to bloom, but together, you would sway and intertwine, two lifetimes turned to one harmonious duet in an everchanging landscape.

New leaves and blossoms replacing those that wilted, but to inexperienced eyes, devoid of recognising the impeccable, intricate details of time, it meant continuity. It meant immortality and a youthfulness that did not know time. This was how life with San had been and will continue to be forevermore. Each tender gaze and caress, the sweetest sigh into your ear was a rekindling of something greater, and left you in an ecstatic daze. The invisible paths of his strong hands exploring every inch of skin left behind a budding desire as you thought back to the transforming garden of hues outside the apartment, now turned to a colourful prologue for the beginning of your hazy summer day.

“Tease… I’m very polite, I’ll have you know.” You giggled as San broke away from the kiss, revealing his lovable pout. Unable to resist, you pushed your free arm up and cupped one side of his face, running your thumb over the cheek, poking his nose with your own as you broke into a wide grin. The action had an effect on San as he moved and tightened his grip to your hips, not once breaking his gaze, while the expression changed entirely.

Like a traveller who had finally found their oasis after an eternity of roaming the scalding hot sands, persevering through madness, he revered you. An unfiltered, unabashed, quiet love that could only be felt amidst total tranquility emanated from him as he resisted the urge to never let go, instead relishing in the beautiful, fleeting instances that you could spend together. Timeliness had taught him to treat each moment with special attention, but with you, he need not try. You were the moment. You were the one who shared his rhythm. You were the meandering river that he would forever prefer and worship over a roaring, cacophonic ocean. Elegance, grace – an identity that could never be replicated. In the rolling tides of strangers, he would always search for where the river met the sea, and would marvel at just how quickly he gravitated towards you. His priceless love and life, the one with whom he wanted to see every sunrise and sunset.

“Well then, gentleman, care to warm me up? Since I have been so politely intercepted.” The attempt at a joke flew over San’s head, but nonetheless, your wish was rapidly granted as he propped up his left leg so it was bent at the knee and his foot was steadily positioned on the couch. Arms still wrapped around you, he gave you another peck and inquired, voice low:

“Y/N, may I… roll you over?”

“Yes, you may. See? Such a sweetheart.” Words of praise always found their way into your responses when it came to your fiancé. Sometimes to obtain his shyness – a breath of spring, or relief – to last the autumn and the biting winter, or, like now, to lie down, impressed at the evoking of the blazing, sultry summer.

He encouraged you to give up any balance you had, and with impressive care switched you places, so that you were now the one resting on a fabric pillow, enveloped between the echoes of San’s body heat on the material, and the man himself, who had one arm on either side of you, and a goofy, proud smile adorning his features. Unable to contain yourself under his intense scrutiny, you raised the glasses you had been securely keeping, and unfolded them to try place a barrier between San and you. But to no avail. Reading your intentions, what used to be a pure cheekiness suddenly gained a darker colour, that of an intimate dusk, and lifting a hand, he hooked the spectacles right out of your outstretched hands, and raised an eyebrow.

“I can see you pretty well, darling. I am more than awake and focused now.”

He tossed the glasses onto the coffee table, sighing in relief as he saw them stop their sliding journey right before the far edge, which earned him a rolling of the eyes from you.

“All these efforts to get them, and you are ready to throw them into oblivion, yeah?”

“No idea what you mean, all I see is that everything is how it’s meant to be.”

The strength of his glances as he brushed your hair out of your face was reminiscent of the sun at its zenith, while the kisses he peppered on your forehead, flushed cheeks and longing lips were the rays of sunshine that would trickle down from the skies through cloudy barriers. The contrast in his light touches and their intentions as he slid a hand under your t-shirt and found your bare breast was immersing you in your personal summer. Your head fell further back, and you let out a satisfied sigh as San took the opportunity immediately, searching for the sensitive spot on your neck.

Taking his time, San nipped at it, while sending your mind into a disarray once his hand pinched your nipple and began to rub languid circles over its very tip, sending an electrifying shock to your core. One kiss after another, he was soon sucking on the sweet flesh, proudly giving life to a garden of unbridled lust spurred by a desire to show closeness. San wanted to melt into you. Melt with you. No embrace was close enough when souls could be together, and so through intimacy and the approach of ‘a small death’ did he strive to express his adamantine devotion to you. Any evidence of your harmony was nothing but heavenly music for him, and it was with pride that he claimed you, and was elated when you claimed him, be it in gratitude, in bliss or in frustration for your yet to be released high.

Your hands snaked themselves around San's perfectly sculpted torso, pulling the hoodie and the black tee underneath, higher and higher, until you could slip beneath, and your cooler skin touched his. The action made San stop his teasing and chuckle against your neck, while his body reacted automatically to roll his hips against yours, member concealed by layers of clothing growing more prominent and pressing against the material of his bottoms.

"Cold." The comment, uttered hoarsely though holding nothing but excitement for what is to come encouraged you to tilt your head and kiss San’s jaw, preparing to return his little, colourful favour.

"Told you."

"Mm, I know a way to fix that." Alas, you were not fast enough, and he lifted himself off you, the loss of contact making you whine. To remind you of his proximity, one of his legs remained between your thighs, knee too close to your core for you to interpret his steps as unintentional, innocent, serene.

With one final smirk in your direction as he caught you eyeing his body voraciously, San took off his hoodie, and motioned for you to sit up – only for him to grab your hand, and cautiously pull you towards him, grinning once you understood his mission and raised your arms above your head. It did not matter – the design, the colour, the cut… any item of clothing that belonged to him, in his opinion, looked better on you for the simple reason that it could hug your form, be an extension of him if he was away and could not wrap you up in his arms. At times, when you were showering, he would purposefully replace your clothes with an item of his just so the scent of your favourite shampoo could linger, and your image would be even more easily imprinted in his mind. Not that it was much of a challenge in the first place, but having all of his senses being preoccupied only with perceiving you was a state he wished could turn into permanence.

“Ah, but there’s a catch, my love.”

“Come on…” you whined and fluttered your eyelashes.

“These,” he grabbed onto the waistband of your tracksuit pants, “off.”

“Yes sir.” As soon as you uttered the phrase you noticed a lustful darkness flash in your fiancé’s gaze, one which he, much to your surprise, suppressed and shook his head.

“Y/N don’t do this to me, or you will not get up ‘til sunset.”

“If that’s your plan, would I even be able to get up?”

“And that’s why I want to make love, Y/N. I want to love you quietly… lie down for me, darling?” he requested, interlacing his urge with the words of one of your favourite poets. A tenderness in his directing you, how he reduced the bottoms and panties he had hooked along with them to a mere accessory on the floor, and how he caressed your thighs, revering every detail, was leaving you breathless. But, just as he was approaching your exposed, aroused sex, you called out to him, reaching for the hand that was resting on your leg.

“Then look at me.”

“Hm?”

“I want to see your pretty face, love.”

The dimples that fell into his cheeks as he beamed at you, crawling up to be right by your side much like a cat would, and letting you roll over so that you were nose to nose, sharing hot breath, made you fall in love again. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say ‘rise’ in love, for when you were like this, vulnerable, and yet so totally safe, you felt like you were soaring.

San took no time in finding your lips, relishing in the stifled moan that escaped you as his fingers teased your moistened labia. A leg resting over his, you were enamoured with the gentleness of his worship of you. The tip of his tongue begged for entrance and elicited a muted sigh as it entered to explore you. With an approving hum, San curled his digits and let your walls clench around him, as he proceeded to set an unhurried pace, knowing you, knowing how to coax out every feeble mewl and build you up to an unforgettable ruin. You had the luxury of time, every worry replaced with the opportunity to connect and combine into one.

There was an added pleasure that came with the surpassing of the excitement of your relationship’s novelty. The intricate mapping of your fantasies had now taken on a new level of complexity, and the sequences transformed into a language only you and San shared. Delighted in the lewdness of sound that was produced by the relaxed pumping of his fingers into you, the gorgeous man further deepened your kiss by taking the strings of his hoodie, now adorning your frame, and drawing you in. Whatever illusion of space between was now entirely gone, and all that existed for you was San’s touch, San’s fragrance, San’s body heat, and the knot in your stomach that was getting tighter his thumb ran circles over your aroused clit.

There was no urgency in his movement as he unravelled you, even though, as you adjusted your positioning, you became aware his stiff erection. The sudden friction caused San to gasp, and, when you brushed your leg against his again, to test the waters, he pleaded, voice ragged and airy:

“Let me take care of you, honey.”

“But San-” you protested, hand palming his length, but denied as he kissed the response away from you.

“You’ll help me out with that later.”

“But I can get an early start.” A final attempt, only spurring San on to push his fingers deeper into you, massaging your pussy until he hit your most sensitive spot, earning a yelp and an approaching tender pulsation.

“Needy for this cock, huh?”

“Ah…What happened to… mfph… sentimental lover boy?” you joked through shallow breaths, choking out every word as you clung onto San’s t-shirt for support in your approaching high.

“I’m still here. Still here… You look beautiful, Y/N… taking my fingers so well, dressed up in my hoodie…” he praised, emphasising his role in your unwinding. Gazing at the love bites he had left on your soft skin through hooded, lust-filled fog, he was motivated to give you any satisfaction you could possibly desire.

“Sannie, please… ah that feels so good…”

“Please what, darling? Hm, tell me.”

Continuing to relentlessly abuse your g-spot, San sweetly took in your writhing form, enjoying the power that he had in this moment, while a ray of the morning sun crept across the floor towards you, traversing the territory of the living room like a foolishly courageous voyeur.

“Faster, please…”

“But it’s so early sweetheart, don’t you want to take it easy?” he inquired, knowing full well that you would not give him a well-structured response, intoxicated by the intensifying arousal, climbing closer and closer to a climax.

“Ah… please… Mm… I need…”

“Elaborate, or I cannot heed to your caprices.”

“I need you inside me.”

“Is that so? Well, I can’t deny you anything, my love.”

Reduced to a whimpering mess, you waited with bated breath as San shuffled to finally push down his trousers and reveal his throbbing member, now adorned with rivulets of pre-cum after having been left abandoned while his digits satisfied you. In a matter of seconds, you could feel its tip against your folds, gliding up and down the slick until you inadvertently bucked your hips towards him, unable to hold on for any longer without a stronger stimulation. Luckily, San was in a loving mood, and submitted to your silent begging. Soon enough, he began to drive into you, so agonisingly slow so as to not force how perfectly your pussy accepted him, and once his pelvis was flush against yours, embraced you. He strived to have you entirely, as if, even when you were with him, he missed you.

Overwhelmed by the fullness your head tilted forward, your forehead meeting San’s as he barely withdrew his cock, and re-entered you, mumbling fuzzy words of praise at how well you were taking him, and just how heavenly your soaked cunt was as he went deeper, rocking his hips upwards to drown himself in your heat.

The world on fire, skin lapping against skin like waves of a mountainous current, painting the landscape in the hues of a blazing sunrise, much like how hedonistic desire washed over you. It grew at an alarming speed until it was threatening to bloom, a crimson rose of undying attraction and adoration for the man who was offering himself to you as your cunt clamped around him. San was entranced by you, and wanted more than what ‘more’ could signify, lifting your leg and throwing it over his to bring you to your sensual demise. Your grasp of his tee tightened as the pounding became hungrier, and you dropped the act of being able to contain a portion of your moans, letting the salacious melodies go right by San’s ears, interlaced with expletives and your beloved’s name.

With every affirmation to roll off your tongue that he had only recently confronted with his own, he would grind harder into you with ease, now that you were propped up just how he wanted you. San could never get enough of your flushed cheeks as the ripples of pleasure ran through you, with his cock rendering you speechless, muscles tightening in anticipation of a crashing orgasm. Only feeble, high-pitched gasps bounced around the walls of the living room, blending into the warm ambiance as your climax hit you – a monsoon, the season controlled by none other than your fiancé, who kept up his flow, mumbling barely coherent phrases:

“So gorgeous, my love, that’s right. Come for me, come over my cock-”

It was not long after your orgasm that his thrusts lost their steadiness, San’s grip on your thigh grew unbelievably tight and he dived to find stability in the dip between your shoulder and neck, leaving feathery kisses and biting the area to suppress his low grunts, now turned to helpless moans that served to prolong your own high.

The erratic motions of his hips culminated in a series of deeper thrusts as he buried his dick as deep as he could inside you, groaning as ropes of cum painted your still-pulsating walls, that seemed to be pleading for more, greedily taking every drop. You rolled your lower half a couple of times, ecstatic from the dizzying fullness that his cock and thick release provided, causing some of the cum to ooze out, threatening to coat your inner thighs. San had no plans on moving, at least not until mist lifted from his consciousness, and he could conjure up at least one thought that did not relate to having you again.

While his dick twitched inside you, you attempted to remain as still as possible, regaining San’s attention by whispering his name. Through half-lidded eyes he gazed back, sending you a shy smile so endearing, and so much brighter than every star, contrasting the remnants of earlier intimacy in the form of a bead of sweat that concealed itself under the hair that fell over his face, and the reddened, plump lips.

“San?”

“Hmm?”

“I’d say I’m very warm now.” He chuckled, making you bashfully glance off to the side, catching the reflection of the sky in the coffee table. The simple ability to hear San’s husky voice as he drifted with you in post-coital bliss, an arm lazily resting on your waist, was a blessing.

“Anytime, my love.” He matched your lightheartedness and squeezed your side.

Your precious sun and moon. The one with whom your heart beat in unison, the one who had read you like a novel, front to back, back to front until he could recount every detail better than you ever could. Time stood still as you lied there, on the couch, sharing addictive nectar and basking in the afterglow. The day only beginning, the room decorated in a light gold hue. Unwilling to part just yet, you shared another kiss with San, in adoration for how the early morning haze entranced you.

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