#how is this cast so damned stacked?! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

koenigami · 1 year ago

Text

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART.

wriothesley x fem!reader summary : spending your night far away from everything and everyone with your lover in a cabin on a cold night, you finally uttered your deepest wish to him. wc : 3k tags : +18, smut, fluff, established relationship, talks about children, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, wrio about to unleash his breeding kink

The fire casted shadows along the walls as it danced in the fireplace, the warmth and crackling of burning wood creating a cosy ambience that could have made you fall asleep right then and there on the floor. Cold winters in Fontaine weren’t unusual yet you could not remember the last time you had seen thick layers of snow like the ones that currently covered the meadows and mountains of your homeland like large fluffy clouds.

A cold breeze rushed inside the little wooden cabin and made you shiver when Wriothesley slipped inside, nudging the door shut with his foot while carrying piled up pieces of wood in his arms. You smiled at the sight of his reddened nose and cheeks, flakes of snow sprinkled all over his hair and slowly melting away, leaving back a trace of slightly damp curls.

“Hope this will be enough for the night.” He sighed, neatly stacking the wood in the little basket beside the fireplace before he joined you on the woven carpet. “Good thing you stayed inside. It’s so damn cold.”

“‘Course, otherwise I would have turned into an icicle.” You smirked, remembering how Wriothesley earlier had threatened to tie you to the bed because you had begged him to let you accompany him outside to get the wood. Apparently, wanting to watch your handsome boyfriend use his astonishing strength to chop wood had been too much to ask for. However, the shriek that you let out when his bare hands touched your neck was proof enough that staying inside had not been such a bad idea.

“Shared sorrow is half the sorrow.” You grabbed his wrists, liberating yourself from the frosty feeling on your skin, and instead tried to gently envelop his hands in your smaller and especially warmer ones. Wriothesley studied you with curious eyes as your thumbs traced tender circles along the back of his hands while warming them up with your warm breath.

“You don’t need to do that.” Your movements halted, and you looked up at him befuddled. He went out by himself in that freezing cold, the least you could do was make sure that he was warm and- “Share my sorrows.”

Bearing others burdens on his own shoulders was a piece of cake for Wriothesley, because somehow he always managed to take care of them very easily. Yet the melancholic smile that he would shoot you every time you stated the desire to help him was a clear sign of a deeply rooted self-destructive habit. And despite knowing that it was only a way to keep you away from any further unnecessary trouble, in some situations it felt more like a brick wall that he cemented between the both of you.

“You’re right.” You stated matter-of-factly, leaning over to ruffle his hair and ridding him of the residue snowflakes. “But I want to. And the next time you threaten to tie me to a piece of furniture, I’ll simply handcuff you to the bed.”

“Threatening me with a good time, huh? Sweetheart, you should really work on your bargaining strategies.” His smug smirk turned into a lighthearted chuckle when he saw you scoff and turn your head away from him in annoyance. Though your body did not resist even an ounce when one of his arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer against him into a tight embrace. You instinctively snuggled into his side, the knitted pullover that he was wearing making him look tamer and more cuddlesome than his usual dress shirt and tie.

Coming here was a good idea. Far away from Wriothesley’s duties as well as your own work, no court cases or due dates for your reports; you were grateful for some uninterrupted shared time with him even if only for a few days. It’s what you both were in need of. Especially since there were matters that had somehow been lingering on your mind and soul for a while now-

Soft tender touches were shared as the snowfall outside the window slowly started to get heavier. His hands along your hips and waist, sliding underneath your pullover to caress and feel the heat of your skin, your lips on his jaw and cheeks, feeling the light stubble on his face. Slow and teasing movements that made your skin tingle and heart do somersaults, the awareness of how happy this man’s presence was making you, bringing a genuine smile to your lips.

“Want me to make some tea?” You eventually asked when you detached yourselves from each other for a moment. Tilting your head slightly, you looked at him. The fire casted an orangish light over the side of his face, the flame reflecting and swirling in the deep blue of his eyes and risking hypnotising you if you wouldn’t stop staring right into them.

“Nah, maybe later.”

“Did you just deny an offer of tea? Are you sick?” You giggled and watched his own lips form into a wolfish grin. In the blink of an eye, you were tackled and pinned to the carpet while Wriothesley’s body now loomed over yours and caged you between his arms. “I see so now it’s sex over tea?”

With nothing but the fire illuminating the cosy bedroom, you looked so ethereal. Your hair was sprawled around your head like a halo, and your skin felt so soft and warm as he glided his fingertips along your cheek and further down to your neck where he started littering light fleeting kisses. “Of course not, my love. It’s you over tea.” He spoke between each kiss. “You over everything.”

A gasp escaped you when the sweet kisses turned into teasing bites, heat already pooling between your legs at the way he sucked on your skin, finishing his markings with light traces of his tongue. Your legs instinctively spread, letting him slot himself between them as he kept assaulting your neck, tasting you, inhaling you in such a fervent way that he made it seem like you have been separated from each other for months. And in some kind of way, it truly felt so. One tiring day after another had led to the both of you being so exhausted and depleted of energy that your shared bed had solely served as a way to recharge your batteries before the next same draining day would arrive with the same taxing work and tasks to be completed.

His breath hitched when your hands slid into his hair, and with the tight grip you had on his strands, you noticed him lower his body, his hips grinding against yours and letting you feel the prominent growing bulge in his pants.

“Mr. Wriothesley.” You suppressed a wince once you noticed that your attempted comment did not sound as teasing as you had hoped it would when you were so out of breath and desperate for him. “Don’t tell me we’re about to have sex on the floor when there’s a king size bed right next to us.”

“Oh, shut up.” Blindly reaching to his side, Wriothesley tore the soft blanket off the bed, the both of you spreading it properly before you hurriedly settled on top of it. “There, better now?”

Though in all honesty, you could not care less about whether the ground beneath you was cushioned or not, whether you did it on the floor or in a thousands of mora expensive bed, as long as it was him that your hands got to touch, as long as it was him that got under your skin and never let go of you. His patience was slowly crumbling to the ground and disappearing into nothingness as much as yours was. His touches became more eager, with rough hands groping your chest, and lips nearly devouring you, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue- It was so easy for him to make a mess out of you.

The fabric of your jumper was soon bunched up, and your bra pulled further down to let the fat of your tits spill out of it. The warmth of his lips wrapped around your nipples as he started sucking on one while his thumb and forefinger played with the other, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed you arching your back. “Fuck, missed these tits so much.” He rasped, drunk on your body and the way it felt beneath his hands. His tongue slid around your areolas, sucking and biting at the plump flesh of your breasts until they glistened with his saliva.

Once you two finally pulled back to completely rid yourselves of the clothes and fabrics that created a barrier between you, you were almost astonished at the light shake in your hands and breath, adrenaline and hormones having riled you up like a desperate teenager. Breathless chuckles and giggles echoed through the dimly lit room while you hopelessly struggled to undo buttons here, unclasp a bra there, and unzip and tear off legs of pants. Wriothesley hissed in pain when you harshly tugged the thick woollen pullover over his head, his helix getting caught in the fabric before you yanked it off him a little too harshly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing over the apex of his ears to soothe the sting, and settled back between your legs which you deliberately wrapped around his waist. Digging your heels into his lower back, you pulled him almost impossibly closer as if any space left between your bodies would physically hurt you. With a hushed sorry, you trailed your mouth along the shell of his pierced ear, hearing and feeling his laboured exhales brush across your face when the pads of his fingers finally stroked along your already soaked folds. He played with you. Smearing your arousal over your clit, the circles he drew on the erected little bud made you let out the sweetest noises, his cock twitching in anticipation while he could barely wait any longer to hear you moan once he was inside you.

Wriothesley carefully drove his thick middle finger inside you, so painfully slow that you keened needily, tightly gripping the blanket underneath you in your clenched fists, knuckles white. Though his exterior seemed far more composed than you were, the hard cock that you caught a glimpse of as it hung heavily between his legs with the irritated and glistening tip, the weight of it brushing against your thigh; your pussy unconsciously clenched around nothing, the empty and aching feeling inside you only getting stronger.

“Oh my god-” You nodded mindlessly with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pouty lips slightly open in a silent moan when he finally added a second finger, filling you further up. Though you were far away from satisfied, and at the way your fluttering and pulsing walls gripped his fingers he too could tell that you needed more. The indecent squelching sound of his palm slapping against your wet pussy with each thrust was so loud, he couldn’t help but groan knowing that you were in such a desperate need for him, that you needed him to fill you up to the brim and satisfy you over and over again.

“Let me see that pretty tongue.” You felt something in your stomach flutter at the sight of his satisfied smile once you obediently stretched your tongue out, letting him brush his soaked fingers on the pink muscle before dipping them into your mouth. With swirling movements, you made sure to lick them clean, the light suction of your lips making his breath hitch undeniably as he relished the sight in front of him, your pretty doe eyes glistening with moisture as the flame of the fire flickered inside them. “My gorgeous girl, always so good for me.”

“Wriothesley.” You croaked when he retracted his hand, a dribble of saliva running down the side of your mouth while the taste of your own arousal still lingered on your tongue. As you reached down between your bodies to take his cock in your palm, brushing it along your folds to cover him in your juices, you involuntarily sunk your teeth into your lip, gnawing at the raw kissed flesh. No matter how many times you took him, he always made sure you were nice and ready for him, wanting to make this as pleasurable for you as possible. Yet something about the brief burn when your walls stretched around him, the way it sent shivers down your spine and made your toes curl until your body accommodated to his size; you could never get enough of it. “Just fuck me already.”

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” His chest vibrated with a deep airy chuckle when he witnessed your eagerness, his big hand taking a hold of yours to place it beside your head, fingers weaving through yours and giving it a tight squeeze when his free hand guided his leaking tip to your entrance. “Going to fuck my darling real’ good, yeah?”

“Yeah, oh-” The warm mushroom tip entered you, as Wriothesley slowly started fucking himself deeper into you. Inch after inch, he sank deeper, stretching you further before pulling back out, and leaving you a whimpering mess. The hand he had placed on top of your stomach to keep you in place, involuntarily grounded you and you wondered whether he could feel himself in your guts. Because with each thrust that he sank deeper into your dripping wet hole, you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Baby-”

“I know, I know.” He breathed heavily against your ear when he eventually buried himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your skin, and tight walls gripping him like a vice, constantly clenching and unclenching. “Taking me so well. Always so… fuck-”

Wriothesley’s voice died down when he felt you fuck yourself against him as if you were in heat, moaning and gasping every time you lifted your hips off the floor. Your legs were shaking by the time he moved his hand to your sex, thumb quickly brushing back and forth over your clit and making you topper over the edge. Your entire body turned rigid when you came, the intensity of your orgasm would have scared you if it weren’t for Wriothesley’s roaming hands, caressing and reassuring you. You had not even realised the tears running down your temples until he kissed them away, letting you taste the salty liquid when he slotted his lips against yours. “That’s it, I’ve got you, love. Ha, squeezing me so fucking tight.” He mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t think I’ll last much longer like this.”

“Then don’t.” Regaining some control over your body, you were finally able to speak up though with a hoarse voice, and weak legs which you desperately tried to wrap back around his waist. Clasping his neck with your arms and holding onto him as if he was your life line, you moved your hips against his with a frail push, wanting to spur him on. “Wanna see you cum too. Want you to fill me up.”

“W-what?” His own thrusts stuttered when he caught your last sentence, letting your words sink in like honey on a burning wound.

“Want you to cum inside me.” By the expression on his face and slowed movements, you could clearly tell that Wriothesley probably thought that your words were stemming from a spur-of-the-moment decision. Brain fried by pleasure and oxytocin, all words that left your mouth should be taken by a grain of salt, though right now in this moment, there was not a single thing that you were more sure of than the thought and wish that had been occupying your mind for weeks. A small being incorporating the love that you and Wriothesley held for each other. Crawling and toddling around your house, filling it with sweet laughter and cries, while looking just like him. His eyes, his nose, his kind heart.. “Y/n, we can’t just-”

“Been meaning to tell you this for a while now.” The pads of your fingers brushed against his flushed cheeks as you cupped his face in the softness of your palms. His deep blue eyes had taken on a darker shade, staring right into your soul, and you swore that if there was a way to drown into that ocean of blue, you would do it instantly. “Wriothesley, I love you so much. I-I can’t imagine a life without you.”

Another stream of tears followed that made his eyebrows furrow before he gently wiped them away. Of course he had already had similar thoughts. How could he not when you were everything he had ever wanted in his life. Images of a little girl with the same sweet smile as yours, same hair, same attitude-

“Wanna give you a baby.”

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze zeroed in on you, looking for something, just anything that could tell him that you were not being serious, that all of this was nothing but an awful joke, some terrible dirty talk. Though all he could find while gazing into your eyes was nothing but pure love and warmth as you nodded at him. Warmth that seeped into the deepest parts of his body, spreading and filling his heart to the brim with affection for a woman he would always be ready to do anything for. “Sweetheart, you’re-”

You choked with wide blown eyes when his hips all of a sudden snapped against yours, his cock diving into your deepest parts and about to make you fall apart again. “You’re going to be the death of me, ya know that?” His voice quivered the slightest bit as he buried his face in your neck, and with his chest flush against yours, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart as it pounded only for you.

The fire had dimmed by now, the dark red flame covered by ash and residue parts of scorched wood fighting for its last ounce of oxygen, while the heavy snowfall outside had calmed. However, when you let your nails scrape down Wriothesley’s back, leaving red marks beside the already residing scars along his skin, while his body eventually tensed up, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and cock pulsing, coating the walls of your insides in white- You knew that your night had barely even started yet.

“Shit- Can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my kid inside you, darling.”

#wriothesley #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact wriothesley

959 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 months ago

Text

august 2024 episode of octavinelle + 4koma update

You know the drill by now!

Spoilers for the 4koma and the Episode of Octavinelle chapter 12 below the cut. As a reminder, the Episode of Savanaclaw won’t be updating again until winter.

🫵 THERE THEY ARE…

THE SMOOTH CRIMINALS…

The poses in this opening page are so good; Leona sat all lax like a boss who knows who’s large and in charge, Ruggie leaning against the chair and swinging the keys to the vault around on one finger… The posing perfectly captures their personalities and roles in relationship to one another.

Once again, Azul makes many fantastically desperate and despair-filled expressions this installment 😭

Falling to his knees???? Laying flat on the floor??? Man is UNMATCHED when it comes to theatrics.

I like this shot of Azul and Leona’s gazes lining up; it really helps give you the sense of two rivals sizing each other up.

(Side note: you can also tell how much painstaking detail the artists went through to include their eye makeup in these close-ups. Hats off to them for the extra effort, it looks great!)

… WHY DiD THEY hAvFTA mAkE HIM So smUGHERE 💀

damn i wish i was that stack of contracts

… I mean what

sorry

Sorry

SORRY

I got distracted there, what were we talking about again????

AYO they always make Leona casting King’s Roar look so darn cool in the manga 😭

My favorite panel in this sequence has to be the one with the text bubbles. He looks so nonchalant and a little stern as he speaks the chant… The shadows on his face add a lot to the atmosphere of it!

This chapter is the part where Leona gets to sanding Azul’s hard work away! Look at how beautifully drawn Azul’s reaction is ✨

The particle-y effect of the contracts melting into sand is nice 😌 It feeds Azul’s tears… Tasty meal…

MOU YADA IN MANGA FORM IS PEAK

lmao Azul for real threw a tantrum, flailing his limbs and everything 🤡 Love that even Leona and Ruggie have NO idea how they should respond to this.

Oh no, here comes the OB…

The anguish Azul’s experiencing is really coming through. He’s sweating so much and his entire face is so. Er… for lack of a better term, twisted.

I think seeing the blot leaking out from each of them helps to illustrate that they’re truly being overwhelmed and consumed by their own inner darkness. It’s sad to see 😔

We cut back to Yuuta and co. squaring off against the twins!

I wanted to point out and comment on these parts with Jack. He’s not a character that I usually pay much attention to, but I gotta commend him for fighting back so hard and trying to shield the picture even when he’s clearly got no chance of winning. Jack bearing his fangs at Floyd with pupils contracted… 🫶 Very good and loyal pupper! I get the Jack appeal now, lol

I LOVE THIS

It reminds me of the similar Azul-Leona framing earlier in the chapter, though with a different context. I like that this shows how the twins are in sync and coming to the same terrible conclusion.

Not long after, they rush to Azul’s side—which makes me think that these two worry for his wellbeing 😭 THEY DONmT SAY IT OUT LOUD BUT THEY CARE

Oh yeah, here it comes… OB Azul has arrived!! 👀

I MEAN YEAH it’s not good for his health, but I’m so hyped for the battle and flashbacks to his childhood! Baby!Azul shall NOT escape our sight…

The 4koma this month centers on Jack, Vargas, and others (Jade, Kalim, Deuce) talking about using transformation magic for racing.

dhejeveiwhwuow I would say more, but I actually didn’t find this 4koma that remarkable. It’s a generally the boys chatting about animals and their different activities they excel at.

251 notes · View notes

siriusly-t1red · 1 day ago

Text

Three's a Crowd, Four's a Party

Summary: What started out as a poker game soon turned into a night of pleasure.

CW: Smut, pure smut/no plot, established relationship, fingering, hand job, foursome.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a soft glow over the Town House. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with a fire crackling in the hearth and the scent of spiced wine filling the air. YN sat at the large wooden table, facing Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand. The four of them had decided to play a game of strip poker, a decision that had been made after several rounds of regular poker had left them all a little too competitive and a lot more mischievous.

Azriel's gaze was fixed on YN, his cards face down on the table. "What are you thinking, shadowsinger?" YN asked, trying not to fidget under his gaze.

"I'm thinking I'm going to have you naked and spread out on this table before the night is over." The words were a deep, sultry purr, and YN could feel their heat pooling in the pit of her stomach.

Cassian cleared his throat. "Alright, then. Let's see your cards, shadowsinger."

Azriel raised an eyebrow. "And if I refuse to show them?"

"Then you lose, and YN gets to choose her reward."

YN smirked, her eyes meeting Azriel's. "I want you naked and spread out on this table," she said, her tone matching his from moments ago.

Cassian snorted, and Rhysand coughed to hide his laugh. "That's what he wanted to do to you, YN," Cassian pointed out.

"Oh, I know." Her eyes never left Azriel's, and she could see the lust in his gaze.

"Fine." Azriel flipped his cards, revealing a royal flush.

"How the fuck?" Cassian spluttered.

Rhysand leaned forward, studying the cards. "This is why I never play strip poker with you, Azriel. You're too damn good at it."

YN rose from her seat and walked around the table to Azriel. He leaned back in his chair, watching her every move. "It's only because you're not playing, Rhysand," YN teased. "Otherwise, the three of us would have been naked an hour ago."

"Maybe next time," he laughed, gathering up the cards and stacking them neatly.

"I'm ready for my reward," Azriel murmured, his eyes darkening as YN straddled his lap, her arms looping around his neck.

"So am I," she replied, leaning in to press her lips against his.

The kiss was hot and demanding, Azriel's tongue sliding against hers. He cupped her ass, pulling her closer until her hips were flush with his. YN moaned, feeling the hard length of his cock through their clothes.

She shifted in his lap, grinding against him. His grip on her ass tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice ragged. "I want you so bad, YN."

"Then take me," she urged. "Right here, right now."

"You're sure?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes," she replied, kissing him again.

He growled, his hands moving to the hem of her dress. He pulled it up and over her head, tossing it aside. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in her bare breasts, the curve of her hips, the slickness between her thighs.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his hands moving to caress her breasts.

"And you're wearing too many clothes," she countered, her fingers deftly undoing the laces of his shirt.

He smirked, letting her tug the fabric off of him. She trailed her fingers over the planes of his chest, his skin hot beneath her touch.

She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, her teeth grazing the skin there. His fingers flexed on her ass, his cock straining against his pants.

"YN," he warned.

She ignored him, moving her lips along his collarbone, up the column of his throat. She continued even when another set of hands wrapped around her from behind.

"What about me, love?" Rhysand's breath was warm against her ear, and she shuddered.

"You can watch," she said, her lips finding Azriel's once more.

The two males shared a look, and YN could almost see the gears turning in their heads. They wanted her, and they were determined to have her.

She was more than happy to oblige.

It was Cassian who spoke up next, a fake pout on his lips. "What about me? You're just going to leave me out in the cold?"

"Cold? Here?" YN laughed, reaching out to run her finger along the front of Cassian's pants. He was as hard as Azriel. "I don't think that's possible."

"You know what I mean, you little tease," Cassian huffed, his hips jerking slightly when her hand came into contact with his cock.

"And maybe, if you're good, I'll give you a reward too," she said, a wicked smile curling her lips.

"What makes you think we'll be good?" Azriel asked, his lips pressed against the shell of her ear.

"Because if you're not, I'll stop," she threatened, and all three males groaned.

"That's not fair," Cassian protested, but YN was already distracted, her fingers tracing the waistband of Azriel's pants.

"I can be very, very good, love," Rhysand murmured, his own fingers sliding up her back, unclasping her bra.

YN sighed softly, her eyes fluttering closed as Rhysand's hands moved around her front, cupping her breasts. Azriel's lips trailed down her neck, sucking at her pulse point. Cassian's calloused fingers were rough as he stroked the smooth skin of her thigh.

"Gods, YN," Cassian breathed, his voice thick with desire. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"And you're overdressed," she gasped, Rhysand's thumb circling her nipple.

"I can fix that," he said, his fingers moving to the button of his pants. He freed his cock, the head already leaking precum.

YN reached out, wrapping her fingers around the base. Cassian moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"Careful, YN," Azriel murmured. "Don't break him."

"I don't think he'd mind," Rhysand said, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Look how desperate he is."

YN watched as Cassian's head fell back, his eyes closed in pleasure. She slid her hand along his shaft, the velvet skin hot beneath her touch.

"Feels so fucking good, YN," Cassian managed, his voice rough with desire.

"Mmm," she hummed, twisting her wrist slightly as she moved her hand up and down his cock.

Rhysand's own hand moved from her breast to the waistband of her panties. He tugged the fabric aside, his fingers sliding through the slick folds.

"You're soaked, love," he breathed, his voice tinged with awe.

"What did you expect?" Azriel said, his own hand sliding up YN's inner thigh. "She's been teasing us all night."

"I know, I'm just impressed," Rhysand said, his fingers rubbing her clit.

"Impressed? What about me?" Cassian managed, his words breathy as YN's hand continued to work his cock.

"You're impressive too," Rhysand said, laughing softly.

"Fuck you, Rhys," Cassian growled, his hips thrusting into YN's fist.

"Language, Cass," Azriel warned, his fingers teasing her entrance.

YN could feel the tension mounting in her core, Rhysand's expert touch pushing her towards the edge. Azriel's own fingers were maddeningly light, barely dipping into her folds.

"Please, Az," she begged, her voice a whisper.

"What was that, love?" he asked, a smirk in his voice.

"Please," she repeated, the word coming out as a moan.

"As you wish," he said, his fingers finally pushing inside her.

The pressure was exquisite, the fullness exactly what she needed. Rhysand's own fingers picked up their pace, rubbing her clit with practiced precision.

"Fuck, I'm close," Cassian ground out, his body tense.

"So is she," Rhysand admitted, his own voice strained.

YN's hips rocked against their hands, the sensations building inside her.

"Come for us, love," Rhysand said, his words a low growl.

And she did. Her orgasm crashed over her, the waves of pleasure rippling through her body. Her release triggered Cassian's own, and he came with a strangled groan, spilling himself onto her hand.

Rhysand's fingers kept working, drawing out her orgasm, and she cried out, her voice hoarse.

"Beautiful," Azriel murmured, his lips trailing across her shoulder.

"That was... incredible," Cassian managed, his breathing still labored.

"I'm not done yet," Rhysand said, his teeth nibbling at the shell of her ear.

"Fuck," Cassian breathed. "We're not going to survive the night."

"Speak for yourself," Azriel said, a wicked smile on his lips.

YN laughed, her head resting against Rhysand's chest. The sound faded into a moan as Rhysand's fingers slipped inside her.

"Let's see if we can get you to make that sound again," he purred, his other hand moving to cup her breast.

"You're going to kill us," Cassian groaned, but his cock was already hardening again.

"And what a way to go," Azriel mused, his own fingers teasing her sensitive skin.

#x reader #acotar #x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x azriel x cassian x you

95 notes · View notes

sharksnshakes · 9 months ago

Text

New Perspective- Leon Kennedy

After losing a bet with friend and fellow DSO agent Leon Kennedy, he takes you for a ride on his motorcycle. Unforeseen consequences include windburn, watery eyes, and maybe developing a crush on him. Maybe.

AN; so i'm back with another installation of bestie leon wanting to be more than besties. you can read as a continuation of this one, anyways post-re2 leon is still on the brain and likely will be forever

Wordcount; 1.1k

TW; mentions of a potential motorcycle crash, mildly suggestive

Never again are you making a bet with Leon Kennedy.

"What were the terms again? Five minutes?" He asks, a shit eating grin on his face.

You speak through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Five."

Leon's grin widens.

"Shut up," you say halfheartedly, warily glancing down at the motorcycle you're both perched on.

"Didn't say anything, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and zip your jacket up.

You're not sure how Leon's bike is supposed to safely carry you at all, let alone through busy downtown streets, without throwing one of you off or blowing up or spinning out of control or something. Suffice to say, you're not a fan of motorcycles--Leon knew that when you'd made the bet, and you'd only agreed because you'd been so certain that you'd win. Why else risk life and limb on the back of his Ducati?

That was the thing about Leon Kennedy and bets, though, because you've come to realize that he's got a way of winning regardless of how the odds are stacked. It's great for field work, but it's also a massive pain in your ass, because (news flash) you lost and now you'll have to endure a five minute ride on his death trap of a motorcycle.

"Let's get it over with," you sigh, looping your arms around his waist. The engine purrs beneath you, sending a shudder through your body.

"Y'know," he muses, and you can hear the grin in his voice, "I bet I could do a wheelie."

You laugh, you hope he doesn't feel the slight tremble in your hands, you hope he can't hear the nervous twinge to your voice. "Absolutely fucking not."

He drives slowly through the parking garage. Most DSO staff have already left for the night, and it's probably better that way, because the last thing the two of you need is for a hotshot supervisor to call you out on your antics. Meaning Hunnigan. Because if Hunnigan saw that neither of you were working on the literal mounds of paperwork gracing your desks, she'd probably hit you with a Jeep.

"Might wanna hold on tighter than that," Leon says offhandedly, revving the engine as you approach the street entrance.

"I'm not your backpack, Kennedy."

He chuckles. "Didn't think you'd know the lingo."

"You know that nobody says 'lingo' anymore, right? This is why Claire says you sound like an old man."

"Well, suit yourself," he shrugs, and suddenly you're rocketing into traffic.

You curse violently, digging your fingers into Leon's sides hard enough to bruise. You swear you feel him laughing, but you can't hear a damn thing over the engine and you're more focused on not falling into oncoming traffic.

"Fuck you, Kennedy," you mumble against his leather jacket, your eyes tightly shut.

The agent banks around a turn and you just barely hold back another string of curses. As his body shifts in the seat, you can feel the muscles in his sides stretch and shift and move beneath your fingers, and, wow, he's built, and now your cheeks are pricking with heat. You try not to think about it.

"You okay back there?" Leon calls, bringing the bike to a slow stop at a red light.

"Haven't decided yet?"

"Well, lucky for you, we're at-" he stops, glancing quickly at his watch. "-The two minute mark. Only three to go."

"Technically," you say, peeling yourself off of his back, "It's already been five, if you factor in the drive from the parking garage. So I say we head back."

He casts a glance over his shoulder at you, a smile playing across his lips. "That wasn't the deal, sweetheart."

"Would you quit with the 'sweetheart'?"

"You'd prefer 'backpack', then?"

"I'd prefer nothing, actually," you tease back, even though a tiny voice in your head riots at the thought. This banter with Leon is nothing new. You go back and forth like this in the office, on jobs, whenever, but perched on the back of Leon's bike has you feeling like you've crossed a line with the teasing somehow, like maybe he's actually flirting with you and maybe you're not actually minding it.

"Yeah, well..." The light changes to green. "Nevermind. Hang on, yeah?"

This time, you're feeling brave enough to divert some of your attention from clinging to Leon like your life depends on it, and instead you glance to the sides and take in the bustling downtown scene around you.

The sun's just barely set, casting a dusky haze over the streets. Pedestrians clog the sidewalk, passing through pools of golden lamp-post light; some duck into stores, some leave their apartments, some walk their dogs. You pass a restaurant with outdoor seating, a bookstore, a bank, and you've seen all of these places before on your daily commute, but the back of Leon's motorcycle is affording you a new perspective.

You turn your head to look at the other side of the street and catch a waft of Leon's cologne in the process. It's faint, but distinctly him. It's enough to bring the tiny voice in the back of your head to center stage, where it drenches the situation in rosy colors and 'what if's and 'sweethearts', grabbing you by the shoulders and practically injecting fantasized scenarios into your head. Everything from grocery shopping to painting your living room to getting in bed--

Oh, fuck, are you being a creep?

"Just another minute!" Leon shouts.

You nod against his back and swallow with a dry mouth. Your cheeks are flushed, you can feel it, and you hope you'll be able to play it off as windburn. The last minute of your ride is spent not unlike the first: with eyes slammed shut, ignoring Leon's heartbeat at your chest and ignoring the way your own heart whispers that there's more to be had here than just a friendship.

When Leon finally parks the bike in the garage and cuts the engine, your chest unclenches. Your five minutes are over and you are never getting on a motorcycle again.

The blond helps you off, looking far too amused.

"So, sweetheart... you liked the ride, yeah?" He raises his brows at you suggestively, but it's so exaggerated that you're positive he's just doing this on purpose.

You still nearly choke on your spit.

All the way back to the office, the two of you go back and forth over whether the Ducati's evil and dangerous and a horrible investment. He's laughing, insisting it isn't necessarily deadly, and you keep laughing incredulously and saying that's not a strong argument. Things feel normal again, and you've effectively written off the tiny voice in the back of your head as a bizarre, anxiety-induced response to your first and last ride on a motorcycle.

But his hand lingers on your shoulder for a little too long when you say you're heading out for the night, and after the rapid-fire scenarios that flashed through your head on that goddamned bike, you're not so sure you got rid of that tiny voice after all.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy #resident evil vendetta #resident evil death island #leon kennedy x you #bestie leon kennedy #hes so silly i love him

308 notes · View notes

pandapetals · 4 months ago

Text

Double Date

You and Logan go on a double date with Jean and Scott.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Jean?" you asked skeptically, glancing over at her as you both sat in her office, grading papers. The afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over the stacks of assignments that never seemed to get any smaller. “Double dates... that's something teenagers do, right?"

Jean laughed, her red hair catching the light as she set down her pen. "We’re young, you know. Well, young-ish... except for Logan," she teased, shooting you a playful grin. "Besides, it's just a double date. It'll be fun."

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Fun is us going out for drinks or a movie without our husbands.”

Jean rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "Scott and I could use a night out. It’s been a long time, especially since the baby came. His parents agreed to watch Nathan tonight, so I’m taking advantage of this rare opportunity."

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of it now. "Alright, fine," you said, smiling despite your reservations. "But if Scott and Logan start a stare-down contest halfway through dinner, you’re handling it."

Jean laughed again, giving you a knowing look. "Deal. But I have a feeling you’re going to be the one keeping the peace. You’re good at bridging that gap."

Later that evening, you found yourself sitting at a dimly lit restaurant, across from Scott and Jean, with Logan seated beside you. The tension in the air was palpable from the moment the four of you sat down. Scott greeted Logan with a nod, and Logan returned with a grunt. So far, so good. But the undercurrent of their long-standing tension hung over the table like a dark cloud.

The waiter came by, taking drink orders—Logan, predictably, ordered a whiskey straight while Scott opted for something more reserved, a scotch on the rocks. You and Jean exchanged a glance, both of you silently acknowledging the subtle stand-off that had already begun.

"So," Jean started, trying to inject some lightness into the atmosphere. "How’s your class going, Logan? I hear the kids have been really into your military history lectures."

Logan shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "They’re learnin' somethin', at least. Though they could use a little more discipline. Kids today get distracted too damn easily."

Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Well, not everyone can handle boot camp as a teaching method, Logan."

There it was. The first jab. You glanced at Jean, who raised her eyebrows in warning. You could practically feel Logan bristling beside you, his hand tightening around his glass.

"At least they listen when I talk," Logan muttered, his voice low and gruff.

You placed a hand on Logan’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "What Logan means ," you said with a grin, cutting in before things could escalate, "is that the kids respect his... unique teaching style. Right, Logan?"

Logan glanced at you, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Jean, ever the diplomat, smiled brightly. "Oh, I’m sure they love it. Scott's geometry students seem to survive somehow. Maybe there's room for both methods."

Scott chuckled lightly, but the tension still simmered beneath the surface. It was going to be a long night if you didn’t intervene more.

"So, Jean," you said, turning to her with a playful smile, "have you read that new book I lent you? The one about feminist literary theory in Victorian novels?" You purposefully leaned into the topic you knew would bore the men to death, hoping to shift the energy at the table.

Jean’s eyes lit up. "Yes! It’s fascinating how they reframe the narratives, right? That chapter on Jane Eyre was so insightful. It’s like reading the novel through a whole new lens."

Logan groaned quietly under his breath, and you could practically hear Scott internally rolling his eyes. You looked over at Logan, who was staring down into his whiskey like it held the answers to the universe. "Sounds riveting," he muttered.

Scott leaned in, shooting Logan a conspiratorial glance. "These two and their intellectual deep dives, huh? Bet they could talk about Victorian novels all night."

Logan smirked, finally breaking through the tension with a rare flash of amusement. "Don’t even get me started. The last time she tried to explain one of those theories to me, I ended up readin’ half of Wuthering Heights. Still don’t understand why Heathcliff didn’t just leave."

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. "Because it’s a story about obsession, Logan. It’s a metaphor for—"

"For poor decision-makin'," Logan cut in, his smirk growing. "Guy shoulda walked away and saved everyone a lot of trouble."

Jean laughed along with you, and Scott, for once, found himself nodding in agreement with Logan. "I’ve been saying that for years," he muttered, raising his glass. "Heathcliff is one of the most frustrating characters in literature."

Logan raised his glass, clinking it lightly against Scott’s, both of them sharing a rare moment of camaraderie. "Guess we agree on somethin' then," Logan said, still grinning.

You exchanged a surprised glance with Jean, both of you trying not to laugh at the sudden shift in tone. Maybe this double date wouldn’t be such a disaster after all.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed more easily. Scott and Logan even took turns teasing you and Jean about your "intellectual" interests, mocking the way you both could get lost in endless discussions about books, theories, and literary tropes.

"Oh, and remember last week," Logan said with a grin, "when she got all riled up about literary accuracy in that TV show?"

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. "You should’ve heard Jean going off about the scientific inaccuracies in that alien invasion movie. She almost walked out of the theater."

"Almost?" Jean said, raising an eyebrow. "I did walk out. I refused to sit through that nonsense."

The four of you laughed, and the earlier tension dissolved completely, replaced by the warmth of shared jokes and unexpected camaraderie. By the time dessert arrived, Scott and Logan were trading more quips than glares, their long-standing tension buried—if only for the night—under layers of teasing banter.

The evening drew to a close, you leaned over and whispered to Logan, "See? Told you this would be fun."

Logan gave you a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into that lopsided smile that always made your heart skip. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slipping his hand into yours under the table. "Guess I was wrong. For once."

You grinned, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Don’t get used to saying that."

He smirked, leaning in close enough that only you could hear. "I won’t." Then, with a wink, he added, "But this was all for you, darlin'."

#fluff #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x you #x men logan #x men wolverine #logan x reader #james logan howlett #marvel #mcu #hugh jackman #professor logan

98 notes · View notes

breelandwalker · 2 months ago

Note

I have adhd and I'm constsntly getting interested in various topics about witchcraft, which leads me to buying books because I NEEDED right now and saving podcasts and YouTube videos and tumblr posts to listen/watch/read later.

And then I get paralized. I feel like i'm never developing in the craft as I should because I struggle to focus on one topic and really learning it before going to the next

Oh honey, you are preaching to the proverbial choir. I have ADHD as well and I have the same damn problem. So much information, so little attention span, so much Decision Paralysis.

Saving things to a Watch Later is a really good hack. Bookmarks and Notes To Self are my lifeline when it comes to keeping track of those random little ideas that flit in and out of my head all day. Choosing a thing is indeed the hard part. Sometimes I just pick a random book or saved thing to explore and if it scratches the itch, I continue with it. If not, I try again later (because going back to the Decision part can be too overwhelming).

What finally worked for me was figuring out that I could totally multitask and do things piecemeal as my interests dictated. It meant that I didn't progress in any one thing very quickly, but it meant that I was making small amounts of progress in several things at once, which was better than nothing. Sometimes, I'd sit down with a stack of books and start to take notes on one of them at random. It was rare that I'd get through more than a chapter or so, but having the other options there in case my interest waned was helpful for me.

Also, learning about various topics when they caught my attention helped me start to see connections between ideas and subject matter that made things easier to understand. It was a slow process, but a lot less frustrating than trying to make myself focus on one thing at a time.

The important thing is to be patient with yourself. The progress you make is entirely at your own pace and there's plenty to learn, so there's no need to rush. That way lies frustration and burnout. Pick and choose the things that resonate with you. Do what you can when you can. Small steppy is better than no steppy, as the meme says.

Something else that helped me was sitting down occasionally and reviewing my progress from the previous year. I keep records of the spells I cast and the research I do, and it's surprising how much you can learn over the space of a year without hardly realizing it. If you want, you can check out this list of Witchcraft Exercises I put together. Some of them might be helpful. 😘

Good luck!

#A. Nonymousse #witchcraft #witchblr #witch tips #Advice for Beginner Witches #witching with adhd #Bree answers your inquiries

66 notes · View notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 2 months ago

Note

angeal due to his feelings of responsibity nearly sacrefices himself for one of the other firsts after he recovers how does everyone react

Of course, it was Angeal.

It always would have been Angeal. Even if fate hadn't marked him as the one who would inevitably fall first, it would have been him anyway. It had to be.

He was the bridge between Genesis' blazing wildfire and Sephiroth's frigid composure. Shinra could not afford to lose Genesis, their poet-warrior, whose rebellion would burn too brightly and too fast, leaving only ruin in its wake. Nor could they risk Sephiroth, their immaculate angel, the perfect weapon forged from fake promises.

But Angeal was different—bone and sinew forged to bridge the gap between imperfection and unattainable greatness. A mind forged in quiet fortitude from the moment of his birth. He grew up not focused on shining or serving, but enduring, to bear the weight for those who could not.

And so, when the choice came—when the odds stacked high and merciless, when the air turned heavy with dust and blood, when the screaming din of battle swallowed all reason and someone had to leap into the heart of the chaos—Angeal knew it would be him. It always would have been him.

Without hesitation. Without a second thought. He threw himself into the gap, sword raised as a shield, absorbing the strike meant to cleave Sephiroth down and the explosion meant to reduce Genesis to ash. If only Gillian could have seen her baby boy then, the son she had poured her ignorance into. If only Hollander could have witnessed the "success" he insisted Angeal was—torn apart and barely held together by Jenova's borrowed grace.

The others saw it only in fragments, through smoke and chaos. Genesis heard the sickening crack of bone and the groan of metal breaking apart. Sephiroth was swift, but saw the moment of impact too late to intervene. Angeal stood at the center of it all, even as his body gave way beneath the weight of his sacrifice.

When it was over, Genesis screamed first. Sephiroth screamed second. Sephiroth ran first. Genesis ran second. First and second place, racing toward the third one who had always kept them in line.

Genesis burned with fury. Rage poured from him, flames and crimson steel unleashed upon their attackers, at Shinra, at the universe itself for daring to harm the man who had shielded him since childhood.

Sephiroth was desperate, methodical but frantic, rushing to Angeal's side, dismissing the battle and Shinra's glory alike as his trembling hands pressed against Angeal's broken form, searching for a pulse beneath the blood and bruised flesh. Nothing else mattered, nothing ever could.

They dragged him back to Medical, Genesis hurling accusations and blame at Sephiroth, while Sephiroth's hands shook as he cast Cure after Cure, Phoenix Down after Phoenix Down, desperate for anything that could mend the damage. But no amount of desperation could fix what was broken.

Angeal didn't wake for three days.

When he did, the bastard smiled—soft and slow.

It drove Genesis mad, but not so mad that he didn't throw himself into Angeal's arms, yelling incoherent things through the tears that streaked his face.

Sephiroth stood frozen, unable to understand the smile until Angeal reached out toward him. And when Sephiroth stepped closer, Angeal's gaze softened. "I'm glad you're okay—both of you."

Sephiroth couldn't reply. Neither could Genesis. All they could do was watch as Angeal, battered and broken, exhaled slowly, exhaustion pulling him back toward sleep. But there was no regret in his expression.

"You're okay," he murmured again, as though that truth alone was enough to anchor him in the world a moment longer. "That's all that matters."

His broken bones be damned. To hell with the gashes, the bruises, the way his lungs rattled with each shallow breath. It didn't matter. Genesis was alive. Sephiroth was alive.

That was enough. It always would be, even when fate would one day demand Angeal's life in full.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #ff7 crisis core #crisis core #writing

63 notes · View notes

cuffmeinblack · 11 months ago

Text

A Library Defiled

Garreth Weasley x f!reader

Summary: An tense encounter in the library shatters the barrier between friends and lovers. Tags: explicit | fingering | semi-public sex | friends to lovers 1.7k words

A/n: Just a quick smutty drabble from me but it's been a while since I wrote anything for Weasley Wednesday! I was inspired by this art which sent me slightly insane yesterday (help, he's so fucking tall).

The gold embossed spine winked down at your from its perch, far out of reach amongst the teetering heights of the stacks. Your instinct was to grab your wand and cast a quick summoning charm, but that idea fizzled out with a quick glance at your surroundings. The signs that Madam Scribner had hung earlier that year usually went ignored, but the stern librarian was only feet away now, shuffling through a cart of returned books. Forbidding the use of magic in a magical school was preposterous, though you could quite easily see Professor Black agreeing with her madness. No doubt it had been in response to that business with Cressida and her damned flying diary.

You rolled your eyes before standing on tiptoes, fingers merely inches away from your prize, and yet it was to no avail. That extra height eluded you. The thought occurred to you to start climbing the shelves until the very book you needed was snatched from above.

“Wait, I-...”

“Is this what you wanted?”

You needn't have turned to discern who'd spoken—his voice was as familiar as his densely freckled face—but you fixed your face with a suitably irritated expression. You came face to face with his chin, having to crane your neck to meet the towering redhead’s eyes. Garreth held the book out for you with a smile that looked far too self satisfied for your liking.

“Yes, it is. Well done for being so tall,” you replied, casting another mutinous glance at the librarian. “How does she expect us to get anything down without using magic?”

“I think she'd be happy for nobody to touch the books ever again. However, I'm always happy to help a damsel in distress.” You could practically feel the implied flirtatious wink.

Shadow eclipsed your face, an arm braced against the shelf beside you. Your heart stuttered, arms clutching the book tightly to your chest like a shield in case the organ burst from your ribcage. The reaction he elicited wasn't new or unexpected—in fact, he played into it as much as he could these days. He knew how to stand, how to speak and what to say to send your heart racing, hoping that one day you would end the torturous game you played and let him fulfill those desires you both knew you held. The chase was fun but your patience and self restraint grew thinner with each passing day.

“Is that what I am?” you asked. Your voice quivered as you felt him envelop your back, his warmth seeping through your shirt. He ran hot like a furnace. You'd forgotten how to use your limbs, how to think; every sense was acutely aware and attuned to his movements.

“You looked pretty distressed before I got here,” he chuckled, his mouth so very close to your ear. His fingers flexed against the wood, warm breath slipping down your collar. Another inch and his lips might brush your skin.

Garreth knew when to stop. This invisible boundary you'd drawn lay somewhere on the hair's breadth between your bodies. You still felt everything—the steady rise and fall of his chest, the copper curls that barely ghosted your forehead and his gaze lingering on your neck.

Sweeping the hair away from that spot, you heard him inhale, dizzy from the slightest show of skin; not quite an invitation, only an enticement. If he insisted on teasing, you would repay him for his efforts. When he stepped closer you knew it had been foolish.

There was no more room between you anymore, only his muscled chest and the hint of softness at his midsection. “Are you going to let me leave or keep me pinned here forever?” you asked, hoping that the answer might be ‘yes’.

“I'm not stopping you.” He shoved his free hand into his pocket. He was quite correct—there to your right, was a route of escape. You could turn and leave, but your legs had suddenly atrophied. And then Garreth dipped his head further. To an outsider it might look as if he were whispering conspiratorially in your ear, his billowing robes and broad shoulders masking just how tightly your bodies pressed against each other. “You can go, or you can stop pretending not to want this,” he said.

“And what is this, exactly?”

Garreth shifted his weight ever so slightly, enough for you to feel an unmistakable twitch in his trousers. Cheeks blazing, you inhaled sharply whilst suppressing a whimper, clutching the book so tightly you thought the spine might crumble.

“You drive me crazy,” he replied with what could only be described as longing lacing his voice. Garreth wasn't the type of person to manipulate others; you knew he was being sincere. “Just give me a chance to love you.”

You finally looked at him then, shocked to hear that word slipping from his lips. He didn't seem to have noticed, or perhaps he held no shame in laying his heart on the line for you then. His eyes were full and earnest, unwavering as they held your gaze. In response to your shocked silence he asked, “Did you think I just wanted to sleep with you?”

“Maybe,” you muttered. Despite every rational thought imploring you not to, your eyes dropped to his lips, and his own quirked into a smile at his victory. When he kissed you, he finally let go of the shelf to tilt your chin to meet him. The hand in his pocket came to encircle your waist, swivelling you around to face him. The book you'd held as a shield that signified the final barrier between your coupling fell to the floor with a thud as you gave into him completely.

Your heart pounded so fiercely you didn't hear Madam Scriber shouting or the students whistling—there was only Garreth and his gentle touch and soft lips, tongues swirling in an endless caress. The battle had been long-fought but your surrender had made winners of you both. The whimper you'd forced down threatened to escape the tighter he held you, the longer his tongue teased your lower lip.

Perhaps it had been a blessing when the librarian broke her own rule and blasted a hex at the pair of you, rendering you speechless and unable to move. Saving you from further embarrassment had been a steep price to pay and had made Madam Scribner enemy number one.

A month later, you found yourself in that very same spot again, except this time it was under the cover of darkness. Tonight you would exact your revenge on Madam Scribner by defiling her precious library. The room was still and blissfully quiet except for the rustle of fabric and lustful moans that spilled from your own mouth. Garreth's lips were just as sweet as that fateful day one month prior, his hand braced again on the shelf next to you—but this time his slick fingers teased your clit with precision as you pressed against his chest.

Your head fell back on his shoulder, back arching into his touch as the circles grew faster and tighter. You whimpered unbidden, met by a breathy chuckle in your ear before Garreth's mouth returned to your neck. You guessed there would be purple bruises there tomorrow, by the way your skin now tingled and stung so deliciously.

“Fuck, Garreth…” Stars perforated your vision as every drop of blood rushed south, preparing for a mind-shattering orgasm only minutes after your arrival. Everything was so intense, so passionate with Garreth; years of tension finally culminating in the moments you joined bodies.

“That's it, let it go,” he whispered in your ear, silky smooth and commanding. “Come for me.”

You gripped his hair as those final slippery strokes sent you over the edge, coming hard with a loud moan that echoed along the rows of books. If they could talk, they'd have quite the tale to tell. Your thighs clenched around his hand, hips grinding against his fingers. His cock was already nudging against your behind whilst you writhed in the throes of pleasure.

“I can’t wait to be inside you. Fuck, you’re so wet.” Another nudge from his stiff length, his arm abandoning the shelf to hold you tight against him. You’d barely caught your breath before Garreth was tilting you forward, angling your hips just right as he slid between your folds. “This is exactly what I wanted to do to you that day, you know.” His voice had become gravelly, laced with want. His cock twitched eagerly at your entrance.

“I wanted it, too,” you sighed, gripping the shelf in front of you hard as books shifted and dust invaded your nostrils, yet nothing could overpower the heady aroma of musk that had you salivating at the thought of Garreth’s dripping cock. “Please…”

Garreth entered you in one swift motion, stretching you until you were blissfully full. He groaned and nipped at your ear, sending shivers down your spine before retreating and plunging back inside. Harder, faster, deeper; he fucked you until the books fell all around you and coherent sentences were a thing of the past.

All you knew was him, and his name sighed to the heavens as he pulled your hair and bared your throat. The sting of your skin felt like promises, made to linger. He was everything, and he was yours.

Garreth’s long fingers trailed your collarbone under the open fabric of your shirt before wrapping around your throat. Calloused fingertips grazed your pulse and the corner of your jaw. You were close again; tension coiled so tight it almost hurt. He must have felt your body twitch, your muscles contract—he responded with a shuddering groan, his hips grinding relentlessly against your behind as he met his own release.

Your climax followed soon after, every pulsing wave around his cock filling you further and further until you were dripping, happy and satiated.

The dim light of the cavernous room made for quite the relaxing atmosphere, and your eyes blinked slowly at the ceiling as you came down from your high. You could have curled up there and slept, warm and safe in Garreth’s arms.

He was busy nuzzling against the crook of your neck when he finally sighed contentedly. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

#garreth weasley #weasley wednesday #garreth weasley fanfiction #garreth weasley x reader

250 notes · View notes

hazbinshusk · 5 months ago

Note

Can I get a uhh…a Husk? With a side of..uhh…kiss prompt 19? For no other reason than that I think it’ll be a silly goofy time-

I won't lie - this one has been stumping me for a while because why would husk ever consent to being underwater? but I think I came up with a work around. so, here's...

prompt #19: a kiss underwater.

The growl that rips itself from Husk’s throat goes beyond his usual irritation, and your amused smile turns to a sympathetic pout as you set a stack of fresh, fluffy towels on the toilet seat. You turn to see him glowering down at himself, and you hurry forward when he makes move to grab at the fur of his chest.

“Hey, stop!” you urge him gently, catching hold of his wrist before his claws can tangle in the mess of sticky fur at the base of his throat. “Stop. You’re just going to end up ripping it out.”

Husk almost hisses under his breath, but he takes your point when you release his arm and a few tufts of fur come with it, glued to your palm. “Gonna fuckin’ kill Pentious.”

The corner of your lips twitches upward, and you reach up to take the hat from his head, his ears flicking briefly before returning to where he presses them back against his skull apprehensively. You don’t often see him without his hat, and you push back the desire to run your fingers through the hair he hides beneath it and set his hat on the edge of the sink.

“I don’t think anyone would blame you,” you say idly, moving past him and leaning into the shower stall to turn the shower on. It groans for a second before a steaming spray fills the stall. “But Charlie might have a few issues with it.”

“She can kiss my ass, too.” he grumbles, and you smile sympathetically. Pentious’ latest invention had an… explosive side effect, coating those of you who had been patronising the bar in a sticky, foul-smelling goop that was apparently the closest thing Hell had to rubber cement when it came in contact with fur. Angel had been so pissed that his hair was ruined that he’d actually forgone any suggestions of soaping up Husk, storming upstairs and shouting to the ceiling about a bath.

Husk had looked ready to commit murder, but you’d managed to haul him upstairs while Sir Pentious slithered around barking at his eggs about mismeasuring whatever chemicals he’d tossed in that damned thing.

Now, the cat stands fuming in your bathroom – with the reasoning that you have far more in the way of soaps and shampoos at your disposal – and despite his fury, he still manages to blush when you pull your shirt off over your head.

“Doll,” he coughs, casting his eyes to the floor. “I can—”

“Look, this stuff really stinks,” you say, grimacing apologetically. Still, you force yourself to keep your voice casual and matter-of-fact as you unzip your jeans. “And I’m just going to say it – it’s going to take both of us to get all that crap out of your fur. So… keep your pants on, I’ll keep these on—” you gesture down at your bra and underwear, sparing a second to silently thank whoever is listening that you at least wore a nice set today – “And we’ll get… get you out of the shower a hell of a lot quicker. Okay?”

Husk swallows heavily before nodding. “Fine. Jus’… let’s get this shit off’a me.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Between the heat of the water and the flush you can feel burning through your body at being soaking wet and near naked next so close to Husk… it’s a miracle you haven’t passed out. You swear, the only thing keeping your mind on the task at hand is just how miserable the bartender looks.

His fur is soaked and weighed down by the water, leaving him utterly bedraggled. He stands frozen under the spray, soft groans occasionally escaping him as you scrub soap gently over his chest. In an attempt to keep his wings as dry as possible, Husk is standing by the open door of the shower stall, caging you in against the wall. The stench of the goop is receding, replaced by the fragrance of bergamot and rose from your shampoo. His eyes are closed, his lips parted, and you jump, startled, as you feel his claws brush over your hips.

Husk takes hold of them tentatively, and despite the heat, you realize he’s trembling.

“Husk?” you ask gently, stilling your hands. His stomach twitches under your touch, but you feel his hands tighten on your hips when you move to draw away. “You okay?”

He nods, swallowing. “Yeah, baby, I jus’… I hate this.”

“I’m sorry,” you frown, fingers curling against his stomach despite yourself. “But I’m… I’ve almost got it all out, and then I promise, I’ll keep my hands to myself. I- I know you don’t like—”

“’s not it,” Husk shakes his head, water dripping from his muzzle. “Shit, I—that’s not what I meant. It’s the fuckin’… the water. An’ everythin’ smells like you in here and it’s drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy.”

Biting your lip as you take in his words, you slowly flatten your palm against his stomach again experimentally, and Husk exhales a curse under his breath as your fingers card through his fur to graze the skin beneath. His claws squeeze reflexively on your hips, thumbs catching in the waistband of your underwear. It’s brief, but the gesture makes your heart thrum heavily against your ribs.

Still, you try for humour in an attempt to ease the sudden tension you’re feeling. “I know it’s not your… usual scent, but…”

“’s fuckin’ intoxicatin’.” Husk tells you, his voice rough, barely audible over the pounding water. Still, it’s all you find yourself able to hear. “You’re intox… fuck…”

He basically moans, and the sound goes straight between your legs.

“And… and now you’re half-naked and you’re touchin’ me and it feels so…” he groans, letting his head fall back. “And I’m standin’ in front of ya, tryin’ not to fuck it up, an’ all I can think about is that I look like a goddamn drowned rat.”

You smile even while your stomach flips at his words, a soft laugh slipping out between your lips. You reach up to tilt his face back down towards yours, taking the time to carefully push and brush fur away from his face so you can see him properly. He watches you with wide pupils as you do, a kind of guarded surprise burning behind them.

His ear twitches as you tuck his fur away from his eyes, and you dare to let your fingertips ghost along the edge of it. It flicks automatically and your smile widens. Husk lets out a sound something like a quiet ‘mew’ in response, his muzzle stained with pink.

“Not so much a wet rat,” you tell him, smoothing your fingers along his muzzle carefully to cup his cheeks. “But maybe I could take your mind off it?”

Husk swallows, and you can feel the tips of his claws against the small of your back. “How’re –”

You lean up on your toes and bring his mouth down to yours. Husk’s breath catches against your lips as you kiss him, a gasp of surprise that melts into a soft, soft moan that sends a shiver along your spine that has nothing to do with the water cooling on your skin. His hands tighten on your hips, slide up to your waist, his touch tickling against your ribs as you lean into him. His fur sticks uncomfortably to your palms but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything other than that you’re kissing him.

When you pull away, Husk blinks back at you slowly, that surprise still etched on his features. But there’s a soft, warm smile there, too.

You clear your throat, smiling back at him bashfully. “Did it… did it work?”

Husk exhales, the breath both disbelieving and amused.

“Good.” you reach back to tilt the shower head to wash away the bubbles still clinging to some of his fur. “So… what do you say we finish washing up, spend some quality time with my hairdryer and… every towel in this wing of the hotel, and, uh…” you bite your lip, smile widening. “We see just how soft that fur of yours gets now that it’s had some quality time with my conditioner.”

Husk chuckles, his wings fluttering behind him as the last of the soap flows down into the drain. “I think I’d like that.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

#husk x reader #husk fic #husk #my fic #husk hazbin hotel #husk fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #husk fanfiction #hazbin husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin husk #tr-ig-ge-re-d

115 notes · View notes

tinydefector · 5 months ago

Note

Can I request G1 Beachcomber x reader where they’re snowed in and the power goes out and they end up cuddling for warmth?

Snowed In

Beachcomber x human reader.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.5k

Beachcomber masterlist

Masterlist

Request are open

__________________

The heavy snow wasn't doing Beachcomber or his human companion any good, it had come out of nowhere so quickly that they could only try and find the shelter that Powerglide commed to them. Even as they pulled up at one of Powerglides hangers, Courtesy of Astoria the snow storm became more violent.

"Fuck it is so cold!, wasn't expecting a snowstorm, they didn't even cast rain today" they call out,their teeth Chattering together as they throw the hanger door open for Beachcomber to drive in. As they slid the hanger door closed it leaves them in darkness as Beachcomber transformed. His headlights being the only source of light as they manoeuvre around.

"God I hope Astoria left blankets in here" they state moving quickly into the large hanger,

As Beachcomber entered, brushing snow from his plating. "Brrr, what a storm!" he said, optics scanning for any supplies that might help warm up his Companion. To his relief, he spotted a stack of blankets rolled up in the corner.

"Ah, here we go," he noted, grabbing two and handing them to the shivering human. "Let's get you bundled up." While he personally felt no temperature, Beachcomber understood well the fragility of humans in extreme cold. Once they are wrapped up, he starts checking his fuels levels and running diagnostics, hoping the conditions would clear enough for a safe return to base.

"Thanks Comber" they shutter while wrapping the blanket around themself and sitting down on one of the chairs in the hanger. "Damn Astoria has this hanger set up like a vacation home, how often do you think Powerglide flies her up here for alone time" they call out.

Beachcomber chuckled softly at the comment. "Judging by the well-stocked shelving and Energon cubes in the corner, I'd wager Powerglide whisks Astoria away from the city quite often," he replied. "Can't say I blame him - sometimes a mech just needs to get away from it all, y'know? And what better way than cozying up in the sky with your sweetheart?" He moved about the hangar, busying himself with finding a generator in hopes of getting the power and lights on.

He shoots off a comm ping to Powerglide for an ETA on the storm letting up. "Hope they're tucked away somewhere warm themselves," Beachcomber mused aloud. "With any luck, this mess'll blow over soon and we can get you back to the Ark or home. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable - pretty sure I saw a generator around here somewhere."

"Hope so too" the sound of the wind picking up outside makes them pull the blankets closer. "They don't happen to have a fireplace in here do they.?" The cold from outside was seeping into their bones. As Beachcomber snoops he finds the rather large pull down berth with blankets and tarps. It was clear this hangar was well used.

Beachcomber turned to them with an apologetic look. "Afraid not, no fireplace installed here. But!" he added with enthusiasm, spotting the cosy berth nook in the back, "I do believe I've found the next best thing." Grasping the tarp above, he pulled down the makeshift sheltered area, blankets and padding spilling out. "Powerglide and Astoria sure know how to make a nest, don't they?" He helped them onto it and bundled them up, tucking blankets tenderly around their small frame.

"Comfy?" he asked with a warm grin, They give a slight nod as they continue to watch Beachcomber snoops around. "What are you looking for?" They call out. "Just doing a bit of nosing around to pass the time," Beachcomber replied as he rummaged through a storage compartment. His optics widened as his search yielded an unexpected find - a stash of sealed energon cubes and high grade, no doubt stashed away by Powerglide for private recreation with his love. Beachcomber whistled softly in amusement.

"Well well, looks like our wings haven't been completely straight and narrow up here after all." He picked up a cube, inspecting it. "Can't say I blame them for a bit of indulgence now and then." His sensors detected the human watching with interest. "Don't tell me - you organic types have your own 'recreational substances', yes?" he asked with a cheeky grin and raised an optical ridge, chuckling softly as he tucked the cache away.

It earns a laugh from them. "Knowing Astoria she's got some very expensive wine or something stashed around, perks of her family's wealth I guess, I mean I'm pretty sure she funded most of these hanger outpost." They hum finally starting to feel a little warmer. "But honestly she's been a big help with the autobots and getting places set up. Powerglide scored himself a good one, plus she's sweet on him"

"Any news from them or are the frequencies dead due to the storm?"

He tapped the side of his helm. "Last ping I got from Powerglide said they were grounded at a nearby shelter bunker waiting for the storm to pass. Comms in this mess are spotty at best." As if on cue, static hissed over his open comm line. Clearly no chance of connecting until the weather improved. He settled back against a crate, content as the generator kicked up loudly when he started it. The sound bounces off the walls as the lights begin to flicker on.

"Reckon we might as well get comfy then. Weather like this, they'll likely hole up for the night. So, whaddya say - how about that movie? Pretty sure everything is hooked up to the gen, as long as we have fuel we have power" At least they had shelter and each other's company to pass the storm.

them hum with a nod, as Beachcomber stands and moves around getting the Television set up as he looks through the VHS. "Doubt you'll get to watch the next episode of the Kitchen sinks while we are up here, guess we'll have to settle for VHS" they tease knowing full well how much he enjoyed that soap opera show.

Beachcomber emitted a dramatic sigh at the human's teasing. "Now don't remind me, I was just getting to the good part where Marina dumps Stanley at the altar for that sleazeball Luke!" he lamented with mock despair. "Next thing you'll be telling me is Astoria doesn't have the newest season stashed away in here somewhere. Perish the thought!" He doubted Astoria had the new season yet as they had only just started airing it.

"What movies do they have here?" They slowly move off the large berth making their way over to where Beachcomber looks through a crate of VHS tapes. Reading over names trying to figure out what would be a good movie to watch. He's looking to find a soap opera or romance movie. Beachcomber hummed thoughtfully as he considered the options before him. On one servo, a soapy romance saga was just the distraction he craved. But perhaps something a touch more upbeat was in order, given the dreary scene outside.

"Hmm, what do you think - feel like dancin' the night away?" he asked the human, holding up the box for Grease. "Now this one's a classic. Good music, humour, and don't even get me started on Danny and Sandy!" He gave a pretend swoon, miming a dramatic swoon. Sliding the tape from its sleeve, he loaded it up and settled back once more. "Plus I do believe I even picked up a few moves from watching John Travolta" he teased, clicking play and readying himself for a cinematic escape from the storm.

It earns another laugh from them. "I see you and Astoria have similar tastes in movies" they chuckle while pulling the blankets around them self more. The chilling air was still getting through the cracks of the Hanger but all up it was much nicer than being outside.

"Hey, you can't go wrong with a good flick about first love and flirtation," he grinned, optics fixed on the opening titles. A comfortable silence fell as they became absorbed in the story unfolding before them as he made himself comfortable on the berth beside them.

Occasionally his audials would register the chattering teeth or shivers, and he'd gently adjust another blanket around them without looking away from the screen. His systems weren't equipped for generating heat, but Beachcomber could at least ensure the cold breeze wasn't blowing on them.

As Olivia Newton-John's sweet voice began to play, They both focused in on the movie while laying on the berth, his companion slowly inching close to him. their back now presses against his chassis, enjoying the warmth that radiates from his spark, pulling their blankets closer.

"Getting cosy, hm?" he smiled down at his small partner, He settled in comfortably, draping an arm gently over them wrapping around them to keep them close. His optics remained trained on the film.

"You're warm" they mumble, not moving as they try to soak in the heat off his plating. They shutter lightly as his arm rests over them only to relax into him more. “Glad I can help keep the chill off, even a little," he replied gently. It doesn't take long for them to eventually drift off to sleep pressed against him, their position had changed with their face pressed against him as they cling to his frame.

___________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

@aquaioart

@daniel-meyer-03

@pupap123

@dannyaleksis

@averysillylittlefellow

@rosielecktor

@shurushurubanban

@wosemoose1

@strawberrydutchling

@azuragalaxya

#transformers #transformers idw #transformers x human #transformers x reader #beachcomber x reader #tf beachcomber #transformers beachcomber #beachcomber #transformers generation one #gen 1 #g1 tf

67 notes · View notes

yuriisclumsy · 9 months ago

Text

What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

╰Description: [Name] is one of the top mage in Twisted Wonderland, right after Malleus Draconia.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here) | Part 5

—May 3, 2024—

Thought… This is a continuation on the What if there was an AU for [Name] being one of the top ranked mages in twisted wonderland?

So far—over a month—the students of NRC have become accustomed with [Name]...kind of.

What do I mean by kind of?

Let’s just say that those who have her are now dying to get out of the class. Too bad for them because their one-week deadline has passed, and now they can’t. At least they want to lose the credit and money.

Turns out, having a pretty girl as your professor doesn’t make up for the torture you’ll endure.

Now, everyone is afraid to even approach [Name]. She doesn’t mind this, in fact, she quite likes it. Peace and silence. The two things she adores the most.

So much as to get the students to participate more. Thank Crowly for this.

In the month [Name] had been teaching, all she’s done is give theory. Heavy for those that have advanced places, and slightly less for those who have normal classes. Though you’ll be damned if you thought that she’ll have it easy on you if you have normal classes with her. Aduece Duo and Grim are probably off complaining to Yuu about how difficult the class is.

The members of the cast that follow rules and usually are studious find this class a bit…too much. But, not enough to make you want to jump off a bridge. The other students get by with deep dive studying. As for those that are lazy–AGHEM–Leona–COUGH–[Name] won’t let them go that easily.

Why don’t we take a look at how well her students did in the first test, shall we?

…

Because of the way [Name] likes to do this, all results are given a week after the test during a time when there are no classes. Which means all of her classes are gathered here in one spot. It’s easier for her to do it this way. If there are any questions, she can just answer them and not have to repeat it to her other classes.

The first test on theory had concluded a week ago, and the students are now in [Name]’s class to get their results. They talk amongst their peers about how they think they did on the test. Some say they did poorly, others think they at least got a passing grease, no one will know for certain until they get those papers back.

The class starts to quiet down as professor [Name] walks in. She walks until she is standing on the podium looking out towards the students with a blank expression—nothing new for the students, as she is like that everyday.

“I have graded all the tests. I will pass them out. But before that, I would like to say that the results of this test met my expectations.” [Name] said nonchalantly.

At this the students became happy and full of hope. Maybe the majority of them pass. Some even began to cheer.

[Name] took the stack of tests and began to make her way down the list of students in alphabetical order, as she had instructed them prior to entering, with the few exceptions of Malleus, Silver, Yuu, and Grim (Silver, Yuu, and Grim being the obvious ones).

The first three rows had gotten their tests back, much to their excitement. But from the noises of disappointment and failure reaching their classmates further up, they began to question if they had passed the test.

“Aww man…and I studied really hard for this!” Kalim sulked in his seat.

“If by studying, you mean cramming last minute, then yes, you studied really hard.” Jamil frowned at his Housewarden, shaking his head in a disapproving manner. “Next time, come to the library to study. I’ll teach you what you don’t know.”

“Really!” Kalim’s round eyes sparkled to the point it made the people around him cover their eyes. “You really are the best Jamil!”

“...Ah…of course I am.” he said, having his eyes closed.

Going further up, [Name] began to speak after hearing more dissatisfied students.

“It seems like my expectations were met. Only 10 percent of you passed this exam.” She said matter-of-factly, still passing out tests.

“What?!”

“But I studied for days for this!”

“She’s lying…right?”

“I want to get out of this class…”

“How is that even possible...?!”

“No way…”

“Can’t believe it…even if I studied for a whole month, I wouldn't have passed this.”

“She has to be joking.”

“Kehehe.” A grimling laugh was heard throughout the chatter of students. It came from a young boy with black and pink strokes. He had pointed ears, a staple for the Valley of thorns citizens.

“Finding this amusing, are you, Lilia?” A considerably tall young man with pale skin and the same pointed ears asked.

“Oh, please, Malleus. You can’t deny the fact that you find this entertaining too.” Lilia retorted with a smile.

“Hehe, I suppose it is. What’s more intriguing is the fact that she was expecting those results.” He turned to Lilia, “don't you have to be up there to get your test back?”

The young lad’s eyes widened, “ah! You’re right!” He said before disappearing into thin air.

There were only two rows left to hand out the test. Going up, [Name] came face to face with Leona.

“Kingsholar.”

“Professor.”

There was a moment of silence as the two stared down at each other (although one was staring down, and the other up). Without more time [Name] gave him his test back and moved in shortly after.

She was already three students down when Leona slammed the desk in front of him. This grabbed everyone's attention: all eyes were on him now.

[Name] turned around, not amused by Leona’s behavior. She predicted he was going to act this way when he got his test back.

“Is there something wrong for you to act in a way, Kingsholar?”

“...you”

“I’m sorry, I am unable to hear you. You’ll have to speak louder.” [Name] was preparing herself for the yelling of the century.

“HOW COULD YOU GIVE ME AN A IF I GOT EVERYTHING WRONG?!” The students around him jumped, getting scared. No one had seen him that mad. Apart from the students that saved him from the blot, this was a new level of anger.

“*sigh* isn’t it obvious why I would bypass the grading system and give you an A?” she asked, looking at Leona with a are-you-stupid face.

“...”

“No? I guess I must spell it out for you then.” [Name] got closer to him. Taking his test into her hands, she looked it over before averting her gaze at him. “Out of all the questions you got everything wrong.”

“Exactly. So, how the hell did I get an A?” He demanded to know he passed the test, if he had no correct answers. It was preposterous in his opinion. Having every question wrong would mean an F, so having it be an A this time…felt wrong.

“Do you not see what is wrong with this?” She asked.

“No?” Leona was getting irritated. Can’t she just say what she needs to say?

[Name] hummed. “Can someone tell me what is wrong with that? Anyone?” She turned to the rest of the class.

A student in the front row had put his hand up to answer the question.

“Āshengrotto. Can you tell me what is wrong with this statement?”

“Yes, professor.” Azul put his hand down and fixed his glasses. “If this test was a written exam the chances of getting a zero are likely. But, because this test is a multiple-choice question, it would be impossible to get zero percent, as you have more chances of guessing the correct answer.”

She smiled at the answer. “That was beautiful. Thank you, Mr. Āshengurotto. Point for Octavinelle.” Some Octavinelle students cheered for their Housewarden, the loudest being Floyd.

“As you hear Āshengurotto say, it would be near impossible to get a zero percent on a multiple-choice test.” she said, turning to face Leona again. His face spelled mad.

“Yeah, so? I could have gotten lucky.” Leona said sarcastically. He wanted to get this over with.

“Mmmm…maybe. Or you simply wanted to fail.” [Name] said accusing him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I would have agreed with you that you could have gotten lucky enough to get a zero…if not for the fact that you are good with theory. In fact, you are one of the best students in this class with this subject.”

“The only option left…is that you wanted to fail.” [name] finished the final blow as she handed the test back to him, before continuing to disperse the papers.

“Oh and, Kingsholar?” She turned to see him standing there, looking down at the paper that had a good score in. “You violated Rule number four. I expect to see a written paper on it in my desk in the following days.”

Leaving the conversation at that, she finished giving out the test and went back to the podium.

“If there are no further questions, you are dismissed.”

(finished: 5/19/2024, at 6.25pm)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @scarabiafriend, @sleep-ydragon, @d3sperate-enuf, @elaemae, @lucky-whispers, @kiwiimochi, @emmorphine, @azriel-sama, @amora-ledezma, @writerstrashbin, @marinahavik, @twstwondersforyou, @lunatheroyal, @ririsun, @dyedscarletletter, @kuureii, @otomega, @valacz29, @busy-dadzawa-fish, @sarah22447, @valacz29, @wondering-again, @lucid-stories. Re-blog or Comment if you want to get added into the Tag section for Twisted wonderland. Back to The Mind

Back to Master-List

118 notes · View notes

wrangleandtame · 6 months ago

Text

Here’s yet another Tyler x Kate fic - can’t stop myself ♥️🌪️

ANNUAL DERECHO

Kate’s anger came in tractable forms Tyler had easily categorized during their three months together. Most frequently when Tyler pissed her off, he’d easily disarm her with his warm charm or an earnest declaration. Occasionally, her quiet melancholy could metastasize into a subtle ire that she contained by seeking solitude. He knew this, and gave her the space she required to shake it off. These were rare occurrences, though, within her generally sunny and energetic mien.

For the last week, the team found themselves particularly unlucky in their weather chasing within Texas, resulting in tension and general unease. Kate never appeared perturbed by the losses, often taking to the radio with optimistic little comments: “Can’t wrangle them all.” “It’ll happen.” “Just a dry spell.” Tyler marveled at how a few encouraging words from Kate could reset the entire team’s attitude.

Today was different. She awoke with a biting choler dripping from each syllable. Simple questions, she met with curt monosyllabic answers, and avoided eye contact (her tell.) She busied herself with mundane tasks, anything it seemed, to avoid inertia.

He’d placed a hand on her back, and she’d bristled. She swerved to avoid his kiss, like she was dodging a fastball. The lightest physical affection she pulled from as though her skin burned from his touch.

His breakfast-loving Kate, who normally stacked hashbrowns and eggs into weird towers before consuming, who stuffed whole pancakes and sausages into a baggie “for later,” she’d say when rushed, today couldn’t be bothered to eat. Weather didn’t dictate rushing this morning, but she’d ordered only toast and coffee for breakfast, consuming a single bite of toast and three sips of black coffee (she preferred it sweet and creamy) before the scrutiny of his eyes upon her proved too much.

She’d mumbled, “not hungry, I’ve got to…” She’d stood up and left without finishing her sentence.

When he’d joined her in the truck (why wasn’t she sitting outside? The truck had to be moving for Kate to be happy within it.) she’d turned her knees away from him and dug through her bag, never finding what she sought.

Kate’s body broadcast her feelings better than words, something anyone with eyes could discern. Her shoulders lifted and tight, her jaw muscles clenched, she continued hunching over her computer, scowling at the screen. Every part of her looked wound tight, her countenance like a rubber band pulled to snapping.

He watched her face press into frustration while she typed furiously, pausing to pull out her tablet and only became further irritated with whatever she read.

“Stop staring at me,” she grumbled.

“You’re too damn pretty Kate; what the hell am I supposed to do? Like tellin’ someone to quit lookin’ at a sunrise.”

She didn’t respond with words, but her face momentarily transmuted from annoyance to a contemplative doleful expression. If he was reading her right, and he knew he was, guilt and regret had a hand in whatever was so obviously plaguing her.

“Something you want to talk about?” The bait probably too big for the hook, but he cast the line anyway.

“Like what?” She bit out, not raising her eyes from her screen.

“Weather? Politics?” She flinched at his words as though he yelled them through a bullhorn.

When she didn’t respond, he sighed quietly and said, “Just gonna check in with Dani and Dexter. If you need me, I’ll be across the lot.”

Her response was a terse nod again devoid of visual connection.

He whipped out a folding chair positioning himself next to Dani and Dexter; though his open laptop perched upon his denimed knees, his eyes barely left Kate’s form.

“She okay?” Dani asked, concern in her voice.

He gave her a brief reassuring smile, “She will be, but no, not right now she’s not.”

She didn’t require more of an explanation, and neither had Dexter, thankfully. Lily and Boone had driven into Galveston to pick up a part for the drone, relieving Tyler of the type of questions and interaction Boone would require given Kate’s behavior.

Several hours passed, and they asked little from Tyler. Instead, Dexter and Dani passed between them Doppler updates, snacks and weather chaser gossip as they reviewed disappointing projections.

When Javi’s truck pulled into the parking lot, Tyler straightened in surprise.

“Hey, thought Javi was in Galveston too,” Dani noticed. “Isn’t he supposed to be meeting with those fellas at NWS in Fort Worth?” Dexter asked.

“Far as I know,” Tyler murmured.

Javi parked near Tyler’s truck, hopped out and made a beeline for Kate. She glanced up, and an emotion Tyler couldn’t identify crossed her face.

She immediately shoved her tech aside, clambered out of the truck and briskly walked to Javi; when they reached each other, they hugged fiercely. Tyler could see her shoulders began shaking the way they did when she cried. She was fucking crying.

Tyler stood, started for them, and then stopped. Despite all of his instincts screaming to comfort her, he sat back down. Whatever the hell was going on between them, Tyler’s presence wasn’t needed, and he reminded himself to respect her boundaries. This did not come naturally to Tyler. He possessed a proclivity for protectiveness to the point of being downright territorial, though he hid it well, he thought. Thankfully, his desire to honor Kate’s wishes overrode any possessiveness that reared its very unattractive head.

Dexter patted him on the back, and quietly praised him, “well done.” Maybe he didn’t hide it that well.

It upset him to think on how all morning she had sternly rebuked his every attempt at connection, but Javi just appeared, and they were having this moment together.

Within this mounting frustration, an epiphany struck Tyler, and he whispered, “I’m an idiot.”

“What’s that?” Dani asked.

“Nothing,” he responded, his thoughts swirling with the formation of a plausible hypothesis for Kate’s mood, and Javi’s presence.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, Tyler studied their interaction for confirmation. Javi’s eyes were closed, but even from here, Tyler could see several rogue tears escape down his face. He said something, Tyler could see his mouth moving, and Kate pulled back a bit from Javi’s embrace, wiping roughly at her eyes and nose.

They continued to talk, Kate’s arms folded around herself as they did, and then to Tyler’s great relief, she half-smiled. Javi laughed lightly and Kate nodded. Javi pulled napkins from his pocket and handed half of them to Kate. She blew her nose, and he blew his, and they laughed again. Not joyous laughing, but still, it wasn’t crying.

Javi stuffed his napkins in his pocket and pointed at his truck. They hugged again quickly, Kate smiled wistfully, and Javi jogged back towards his truck. He caught Tyler’s eye, and with a subtle dip of his head offered a wordless greeting. Tyler returned it with a smile.

When Tyler tried to locate Kate again, she was walking quickly towards the convenience store across the street.

Tyler sauntered back over to his truck to wait for her to return and checked his phone, confirming his theory. Sure enough, on the same date, five years ago, an EF5 tornado ended the lives of Kate and Javi’s friends. He pulled open his phone’s calendar and typed: “Anniversary of Kate’s Tornado” and set it to a yearly reminder.

Kate exited the convenience store, and as she closed the distance between them, he smiled, “Hungry yet?”

She shook her head, and handed him a peace offering bottle of cold tea, “I’m sorry. I’ve been such a complete asshole today. I didn’t mean to - “

“S’okay Kate,” he smiled.

“It’s not. I’ve been awful to you.”

“You’re entitled to have a bad day every once in awhile.”

“Sure, but…I took it out on you,” she looked at the gravel and then up at him (finally! Prolonged eye contact!), her glassy eyes red-rimmed.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Ever,” she sniffed. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me?”

“Nothin’ to forgive,” he smiled softly. “Be alright if I hold you a minute?”

Unshed tears made her dusky sienna eyes sparkle, “Yes. Please.”

She leaned into his chest and he clutched her to him, one arm around her waist and one drawing her head closer. He kissed her head and stroked her hair. She unconsciously grabbed a fistful of his soft brown shirt like she was keeping him from pulling away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, and he wondered if she was apologizing to some ghosts as well.

“It’s alright, honey. I can take it,” he kissed the top of her head again, and pulled her against him even tighter. He ran his thumb along her spine up and down slowly, “it’s alright.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

AUTHOR’s NOTE: thank you to this beautiful fandom for all of your encouraging feedback. The dopamine hits from your comments is giving me life.

Was thinking of doing another chapter of this one from Kate’s perspective of the day. What do you think? Move on?

Am also working on two other Kate x Tyler fics - obsessed is an understatement.

#twisters #daisy edgar jones #kate carter #glen powell #tyler x kate #tyler owens #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #twisters fanfiction #Tyler x Kate fanfiction #kate x tyler

131 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago

Note

LET THEM FEAST

This piece was inspired by this Mickey Mouse cartoon as well as this early episode from Spongebob.

So tell me, do you wanna go?

The cafeteria doors parted, swinging open as any other door would—but to Fellow and Gidel, it was as if the gates to heaven were welcoming them. Humming chatter and the smells of delicious foods churned out from beyond. Deeply inhaling, tasting the aromas in the back of one’s throat, made their bodies light and floaty, as if hunger had made them weightless.

They followed a hoard of uniformed boys with trays, drifting to buffet stations loaded with dishes they could only dream of. Slabs of roast beef dripping with mushroom gravy, racks od lamb, game birds with crisped skin, fish glistening with herb butter, steaming stews with vegetables bobbing in a sea of rich broth, fluffy rice, cakes sliced wide and trifles stacked tall. The paper-thin slice of bread and beans they had for supper had never looked quite so sorry.

Gidel didn’t notice that his mouth was agape and slick with saliva until a cane tucked under his chin and closed it for him. Fellow pulled the young boy close, a hand on his arm as he wildly gestured to the waiting delicacies.

“Take a gander, Giddie! All that food’s free and ours for the taking!!” he chirped. “Ready your fork and knife, we’re going to eat like kings today!”

Arm in arm, the duo dove into the bar, grabbing as much as they reasonably could. Generous scoops of mashed potato, the biggest pieces of meat, plenty of sauce, the largest loaves. Gidel rushed about with an apple crammed into his mouth and Fellow snuck oyster crackers into his breast pocket (as a late-night snack).

While their plates piled higher and higher, the mob students grew more irritable. Elbowing them out of the way, snatching up popular itwms, and taking far more than their share had the tendency to invoke ire. The mobs casted dirty looks at Fellow and Gidel, others raising their voices at the kitchen.

“Oi, where’s the refill of tomato soup? I’ve been waitin’ for forever over here!”

“When’re the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggies gonna be done…”

“I’m so hungry I could eat a whole horse. What’s the damn hold up?!”

“Be patient, boys!” a ghost chef callee back. He grunted as he hailed a vat of curry off of the stove. “It takes time to prepare the food.”

“They’re ravenous today,” remarked the lead chef. “Wonder what’s going on. We normally don’t have to prepare this much.”

By this time, Fellow (trailed by Gidel) had pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He set down his tray (the tower of food upon it wobbling, threatening to collapse) and waved enthusiastically at the chefs.

“Afternoon, gents! How’s it going? Looks to me like you’re hard at work feeding all these wayward souls.”

“Oh, um. Just fine, thank you.” The head chef blinked. He liked to think that he recognized all of the students and staff that came into his dining room, but he was drawing a total blank with Fellow and Gidel. “Er… Sorry, are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you boys before.”

“Fufu, that’s right. We’re new to these parts.”

“They ain’t even students,” an angry mob student behind him piped up.

The lead chef startled. Worry crumpled his round, marshamallowy face. “Oh dear, not students? The buffet is only open to them and staff.” He glanced at Fellow’s pickings. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to return all that.”

Anger and annoyance shot through the fox beastman. Tch…! Those NRC brats, looking down on me! Why should they get to gorge themselves on this stuff while the rest of us beg for their scraps?!

He reached down and gripped Gidel’s hand, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze. Gidel offered a sleepy grin back.

Watch this. I’ll turn this entire situation around and have them eating out of the palm of my hand.

He let out a theatrical gasp, then summoned his most charming smile. “My bad, I forgot to introduce myself! You see, I am a health inspector sent by the Department of Magic Education to evaluate your menu! Gidel here’s my trusty assistant.”

The leader of the ghost chefs scratched his head. “Huh? Is that what a health inspector does…?”

“Of course, or cooourse! All a part of the job description, my friend.” Fellow indicated his absurd amount of food. “They’re looking to implement new standards for magic school menus—and where better to look at as a model for reference than THE famous Night Raven College? The education it offers is elite, so the meals it offers must be elite as well! That’s why they’ve sent us to try one of everything, to evaluate the quality of your wares.”

Gidel bobbed his head. (He had little clue what he was actually agreeing with, but he agreed nevertheless.)

“Come ON, you don’t seriously buy this crap, do you?” a mob student groaned. “The old fart’s clearly lying!!”

Other voices joined him, but they all fell upon deaf ears. The head chef’s eyes sparkled, his pasty white cheeks rosy with excitement.

“Oooooh, why didn’t you say so sooner?! W-We will absolutely do everything in our power to accommodate your needs, Sir Health Inspector!” He turned to his kitchen staff. “Isn’t this so exciting, everyone? We’ll be the first group of ghosts to receive a fancy accolade after death!”

A murmur of approval weaved through the kitchen. The dining room, however, erupted into a fresh round of protests.

“You’re joking!!”

“That’s such an obvious lie.”

“How can you believe that bullcrap?!”

Keheheh, never underestimate the power of this Fellow Honest-sama’s silver tongue 🎶 I didn’t even need to use my unique magic to cut to the front of the line. Some people are just born suckers and stay suckers in the afterlife.

He smirked, giving a triumphant twirl of his cane. “Sorry, folks! You snooze, you lose. We get first dibs on everything~”

“Hah?! What’d ya just say to me?” A vein bulged on a Savanaclaw student’s forehead. He was about double Fellow’s width and rippling with muscle. “Like hell you are!”

“The way you talk is pissin’ me off!!” chimed in a Diasomnia student. He drew his baton and aimed it at Fellow. “I oughta shut you up for good!”

The idea was a seed, taking root and festering among his peers. Other students were producing their own magical pens, out of pockets and from inside vests.

Fellow paled, balking but keeping himself between the mobs and Gidel. “H-Hey now, can’t we talk this over? Violence doesn’t solve everything, you know!”

“YES IT DOES,” the mobs retorted—in unison for once. Hungry and angry, a terrible combination.

Gidel whimpered. No sound, but Fellow could sense it in the way the boy retreated into his coat. A free hand found its way to the small of Gidel’s back, keeping him upright.

Don’t let them see you like that. Weak, downtrodden. It’s letting them have the moral victory.

His grin widened. He was a fox looking to sink his teeth into unsuspecting prey.

“Why spend your youth grumpy and causing trouble? You should lighten up, live a little, laugh a little. Here, I’ll show you how. Just follow me! Come on to the Theater!! Life is Fun!!”

Fellow spun his cane, releasing a light shower of sparkles upon the crowd. They floated down, popping like popping on their skin. Eyes glazed over, twisted expressions slackened.

“Now then!!” Fellow, raised his cane like a baton, still spinning as he conducted his herd. He, poised as the ringleader. “Right this way, right this way, gentlemen! Let’s have a lively parade to the courtyard on this fine day!”

“The weather is nice today…”

“Coach said I need to get more exercise in.”

“I’ve been stressed about classes, I need to take this break.”

Marching—one, two, one, two—Fellow led the procession out of the cafeteria. He belted out a tune as he ushered students through the exit.

“Hi-diddle-dee-dee, actor's life for me!”

(Gidel pranced in and out of the line of students, reaching into pockets and retrieving miscellaneous items. Pencils, a keychain, spare change. He stashed them under his hat.)

“A high silk hat and a silver cane, a watch of gold with a diamond chain!”

When the last student was gone, Fellow made a U-turn and rushed back into the cafeteria, slamming the doors behind him. He dropped his smile, letting it shatter like a porcelain teacup and not bothering to salvage the remains.

“Sheesh, they’re finally out of my fur!” Fellow sighed deeply. “Those rotten kids really had to make me work hard for my meal...”

Gidel scrambled over to him, pulling out the various items he had clumsily pilfered. Look what I got! he seemed to say.

Fellow brightened, ruffling the child’s messy brown mop. “Atta boy, Giddie! We sure showed those snooty rich kids what for, eh?”

At that moment, the head chef bursted out of the kitchen juggling a tray of apple strudel. He was followed by several other ghosts, each carrying a new dish.

“Sorry for the wait, here’s the… Huh?” The head chef glanced around the nearly empty cafeteria, his brows knitting. “Where did everybody go?”

“Must’ve gone out for a stroll Fine by me, they’re letting us get right down to business,” Fellow laughed, clapping a hand on Gidel’s shoulder. “C’mon, that’s enough excitement for one day. Let’s dig in!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Fellow Honest #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #a fellow in need is a friend indeed #Gidel #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Gino #Ernesto Foulworth

99 notes · View notes