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staryuee · 7 months ago

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“HEY, CAN I SLEEP ON YOUR CHEST?”

꒰warnings꒱ implied AMAB/AFAB, somewhat gender neutral terms but written w/ gay dynamics in mind, suggestive

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . kaeya, itto, alhaitham, wriothesley ⚣ yelan, yae miko, clorinde, arlecchino ⚢

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . meant for the gays and lesbians respectively! male characters are written in a gay POV, women are written with lesbian POV — my little gift for pride month ♡ shoutout to all my male readers i’m sorry there’s content drought for you i hope i sufficed even if just slightly 😓

A. KAEYA — 凯亚

resident boob window man.™

kaeya can’t help but relish in the eyes of people who pass him by to just simply ogle at his chest area; because let’s be honest, no body is looking at that red shirt of his. so when he heard the phrase, “can i sleep on your chest” escape from his boyfriend’s lips, it didn’t come as shock or surprise but more so a warranted compliment.

who was he to deny you? if he allows dozens to have a subtle peek at his gorgeous, tanned skin, why would he not give you a privilege that was beyond that. “how about sleeping on my bare chest? after all, isn’t heat better shared when directly skin to skin?” of course, such alluring words were written using the truth for the sake of obscenities.

and yet, when you finally burrow your face into his chest, arms snuggled safely around his waist as you hummed softly, kaeya was sure his heart would leap out of its ribcage. god, he was so lucky no one was here to embarrass him further because the image of the ever elusive, mysterious and slightly flirtatious calvary captain turning into a silly puddle at just the littlest bit of affection would be etched into history’s memory to make use of as blackmail material.

“your heartbeat is really loud,” you teased, a subtle smirk tilting your mouth as you felt his breath hitch at your sudden call out. he was hoping you couldn’t hear that incessant hammering, but since you’re so close, he might as well let you savour that sound for a little longer while he’s all yours.

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“itto!”

“[name]!”

“can i sleep on your chest?”

pausing the excited chant and the slight ritual between you two to randomly call out each others names, itto stumbles and stutters in embarrassment, “i—! well, uhm, yeah! sure, hell yeah! ‘course you’d wanna, after all y’know we’re dudebros uhm, boyfriends, yeah!” it would be cuter if he did less dignity saving and a little more holding but nonetheless, this is what you signed up for when asking this tall hunk of mess to go out with you.

fortunately, neither of you would have it any other way.

getting fully comfortable in bed, it’s like you sink into itto perfectly, your body falling limp and heavy as your head cradles itself between his tattooed chest. if you didn’t feel so absolutely drowsy from the amount of heat exuding from his body, you were certain your hands may have wandered to squish them for the fun of it. yet, you refrained.

not like itto would’ve noticed such wanderings regardless, he was too busy fighting hyperventilation and this nagging cuteness aggression that threatened to manifest itself in him squeezing you painfully within the grip he had on your smaller frame.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

“wrio…” you whine, face nuzzling into the nape of his neck and arms sliding along his waist to pull him flush against you.

“what is it, mon beau?” he can’t help but chuckle at the way your hands sneakily traveled along his abdomen and up to cup his chest, squeezing occasionally per routine after wriothesley came out the shower all wet and enticing, those droplets dribbling down his abs just simply begging to be swiped clean (either by your tongue or a towel, but both of you knew which one wriothesley would prefer).

“can i sleep on your chest, please? had a shitty day.”

wriothesley smiles smugly, the question rather warranted given how touchy you were being with him. “you’ve been getting all demanding lately, you know that?” settling himself within the covers of your shared abode, wriothesley promptly propped his head up atop fluffed up pillows before tapping on his chest. “come here.”

watching as you immediately snuggled yourself within his tender embrace, face nuzzled between his tits as if they were gold itself, wriothesley latched onto you with an affectionate stare, hands rubbing at your back to help soothe you. “my boyfriend’s so clingy these days,” he chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze despite clearly having the strength to grip you tighter.

“should i just connect us with handcuffs at this point?” he suggested, but honestly if you asked, he’d do it without hesitation.

AL HAITHAM — 艾尔海森

“hey, can i sleep on your chest?”

alhaitham promptly shuts his book at your request, eyes gradually meeting yours like some sort of lizard. “but i’m a man.”

“yeah so am i, what’s your point?” your lips puckered into a firm pout, a hand on your hips as if you were absolutely bewildered that he even dared to deny you in such a subtle way despite you asking so nicely instead of snuggling yourself between his manboobs shamelessly.

“my point is,” alhaitham sat up from the couch, those muscular arms that you were certain were littered with your bite marks a few days ago laced over his chest as if to reprimand you for your ignorance, “i’m a man, it wouldn’t be comfortable for you because my breast tissue is smaller than that of a woman.”

“well, can i?” a small stretch of silence ensued for a while before alhaitham gave up trying to reason with you and merely propped up his pillow, rolling his eyes at the way you wasted no time in snuggling yourself against him. face of course nuzzling against his chest restlessly. he might not admit it to you, but you certainly weren’t blind to big boobs when you saw them.

there was a whole curve. you could calculate the circumference of those things if he asked — and honestly? that within itself wouldn’t be beyond him. alhaitham found himself enjoying this more than he thought he would. his hand carded within your messy bed-hair as the other took its time to soothe your back.

if such a dumb request is enough to make you happy, he doesn’t mind fulfilling it.

YELAN — 夜兰

“i’m not used to being caught off guard,” yelan coughs into her hand, what seemed to be both a look of surprise and smugness distorting her usually calm facade.

“would you like to bet on my answer to that question?” she tilted her head to the side to entice you, her finger luring you close with a simple movement you couldn’t help but be drawn closer to almost instantaneously.

“well, can i?” you ask innocently, a bambi look to you that yelan would normally tease, but right now she wanted to devour completely. she grins, pearly whites showing as she pat her lap for you to cradle yourself in.

“i was thinking of taking an afternoon nap anyways, i don’t see any harm in you joining me.” and of course, you wasted absolutely no time in jumping within her embrace, those hands that normally held poker chips and cards or the neck’s of egregious men now holding you with an almost surreal gentleness.

“atta girl.” yelan giggled as you nuzzled yourself snuggly against her chest, those lashes of your fluttering against your cheek as sleep seemingly lulled you in a mere instant. where you keeping awake just for her to hold you? how sweet.

YAE MIKO — 八重神子

“have you been obsessively reading those sapphic novels of yours again, [name]?”

“nuh-uh…”

“don’t lie to me dearest, i can read you with a mere glance.” yae miko flutters some cherry blossoms that clung onto her attire with a mere wash of her hand, prepping herself for the long yet worthwhile cuddle session ahead that she’s grown more than accustomed to each time you presented yourself with your hands clasped behind your back so innocently like that.

“lay down then darling, you have all my attention.” she says after a minute, and of course you obey without any protest. you snuggle yourself into her comforting warmth, her arms immediately enveloping you as you lay down against her. yae miko proceeds to kiss repeatedly all over your head while humming a soft tune that sounded suspiciously familiar to you.

it was the same song that gently breezed in the background of your first kiss during a festival, when the sunset deep the sky in a beautiful array of red and orange hues.

seems like you weren’t the only one to have been obsessively reading sapphic novels lately.

CLORINDE — 克洛琳德

“clorinde…~ can i sleep on you chest please?”

“…don’t you have your own? i don’t quite understand your fascination.”

“i want to be able to hear you heartbeat when i wake up.” ah, well you can’t just say such swoon-worthy words and then expect her to not completely drop everything and coddle you. a blush smothered her cheeks in the most cosiest of hues as she fumbled over in her effort to figure out what reply she could possibly conjure up.

it took a few moments before the words finally reached her lips but the response that fell out was no less eloquent than the one that followed, which was to laugh. “i…why not? just don’t get too attached, i have to leave in the early morning.” with that said she pulled the covers back and slid into the bed next to you, who had taken up residence in the space between the bed’s headboard and the wall, leaving enough room for both of you to comfortably fit.

clorinde wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you flush against her side while she tucked herself under your chin, effectively shielding you from all harm. her breathing evened out gradually until she seemed to have drifted off, lulling you into complete slumber. you were sure you wouldn’t even notice if she hadn't been holding you tight to her chest.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

“you’ve become bolder, haven’t you my dumb bunny?”

the luxury of comfort was the last thing arlecchino obtained within her livelihood. she didn’t need it, nor did he want to have it. she would be content with living in the forest and sharing it’s abundant wildlife with fellow rabbits or whatever other small animal that came to feed on it. they could do what they wanted and it wouldn't bother that unnerving stoicism of hers.

yet such a simple, minute, even pure, question of yours? it somehow rattled something within her like a predatory snake unleashing it’s coil on its prey in sight for a bigger bite.

“since you’re so desperate for sleep, suppose i’ll have to indulge you.” she sighed heavily despite her tone holding no mingle of exhaustion apart from the permanent eyebags drooping beneath her lids.

like a berry unknowingly rolling into the reclining jaws of a centuries starved bear that’s drooling per conditioning, you comfortably settle right next to her heartbeat, those black nails sending shivers down your spine in electric shocks of warning as she spookily tugs them down your back.

her words always seem so elusive, so teasingly endearing they hardly feel sincere — almost as if sweetened words that spill from her lips come as easily as the breath from her frigid body. one thing that couldn’t lie, most unfortunately to arlecchin’s interest, was her heart.

the way it beat so clearly and loudly against your ear, it was hard not to giggle. of course, the ever perceptive arlecchino mumbled something incoherent about your perceived insolence and shoved your face right between her breasts to stop you from peeking directly into her heart. despite you clearly being in it already.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

#was meant to finish earlier but i got the norovirus randomly at 3am and awoke to pure vomit so…#EHEM. will be back to our regular scheduled programming of fully GN content soon 💗#genshin x reader #genshin x you #kaeya x reader #itto x reader #alhaitham x reader #yelan x reader #yae miko x reader #clorinde x reader #arlecchino x reader

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f4iry-dvst · 6 months ago

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PRETTY SWEET

a/n: guess i’m back haha!

pairing: pussy drunk!Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: No one loves the taste of pussy quite like Chris; he never fails to show you that.

cw: smut, oral (fem!receiving), squirting, mommy kink, sub!chris

“Let me, please mommy, wanna taste you so bad”

The whine that trails off of his sentence makes you giggle in that degrading way you know makes his head mushy, while your hand gently tucks a rogue curl on his forehead back behind his ear. Chris is between your legs, stomach pressed to the mattress as his restless hips grind into the mattress while he thinks you aren’t paying attention and he’s looking up at you with those godforsaken pleading eyes of his that you cannot deny. Of course, you can’t say no to him, he’s your precious, precious boy. That doesn’t mean you’re opposed to teasing him though — sometimes he has to work for it.

You chuckle again at the rustling of the bedsheets from his desperate movement before giving in.

“Of course you can sweetheart”

Chris near enough shouts with joy. That’s one thing you’ll never understand: how he gets such a kick out of getting you off and is legitimately upset if he can’t. You do get it, obviously. Toying with him until dawn breaks is like, better than crack rock; you’ve never gotten so sad when he doesn’t want to be played with though. It’s endearing at the very least: you can’t say you minded how much attention he pays to your pleasure, even disregarding his own for it routinely.

Not even a second later you feel the delicate touch of Chris’s tongue winding its way from your navel to your middle, and that’s when you stop his fun with a tug of his hair.

“But, Mommy wants some marks first, okay? Can you do that baby? Can you claim me from everyone else?

He’s quick to nod, willing to go to the world's end if it meant he got to taste you. It’s not often he finds himself the giver of a hickey; always rushing into making you cum, it’s very rare he stalls long enough for something like that. Chris knows you love them: love being adorned with the bruises and the bite marks, feeling the burn when he gets a bit excited and nips a little too hard or accidentally brushing over one in the morning and being reminded all over again just how much he loves you. He knows. His head just gets a little bit cloudy sometimes, that’s all. You’ll never blame him for that, it’s all your fault anyway.

You weren't sure where he was going to start his assault with his mouth, as he typically chooses your chest. If there’s anything that comes close to his love of pussy, it's boobs. But he’s still between your legs, hands bound tightly around your hips and he doesn’t seem to be moving: excitement was beginning to bubble low in your stomach. Chris’s lips latch onto the pudge of your thigh a beat later, sucking the skin into his mouth like it’s his last meal and letting his tongue swirl to soothe any sting he might inflict. The edges of your mind begin to blur as he hums and whines away as if he’s the one being sucked on; you can practically feel yourself gush at that. He repeats this process a few more times, scattering pink and purple blotches across your inner thighs like they’re his canvas until he pulls away again to look you in the eyes. They’re wet with arousal and need, glistening and oh-so-blue in the gentle light of your bedside lamp. He just looks so beautiful like this.

“That’s my good boy…I think you deserve your treat now don’t you”

He whines pleadingly, rapidly nodding again.

“Go ahead, make mommy feel good”

Well, no need to tell him twice. He’s shockingly slow to it at first: the tip of his tongue dragging through your folds from your hole to your clit, circling the pulsing bud before pulling away to dribble a little saliva on it. His thumb reaches round to flick it – once, twice and then a third, each one making your hips jolt upwards towards his face. You may be in control of him, but that doesn’t mean his touch doesn’t reduce you to a mess of your own. He giggles all sweet like a child with candy, like he doesn’t even know how much all this is affecting you. Of course he does, he just loves playing up on it.

Then, his tongue flicks back out and starts playing with your clit almost teasingly. Chris knows your body like the back of his hand; he knows just how to work you up, what makes you cum and what sends you flying off the side of the earth. This is his area of expertise – as he likes to say – he’s well practised and he can get you there so quickly you won’t even know what hit you. It’s always been so interesting to you how someone so sweet, so innocent and needy could be such a beast between your legs. Don’t get him wrong he still needs your instructions and demands, you’re comforting words and praise, but this is where he thrives.

You don’t even notice when he pulls your clit into his mouth with a suction you could never replicate until he starts letting it go, slow, agonisingly slow and the fire that alights in your veins is feisty. It’s all over every inch of you yet simultaneously all in his mouth and it’s wild how incoherent you’ve become in a few short minutes. He sucks it all back in his mouth again and starts flicking his tongue over the tip, and it’s clear then just how close you truly are already. Your hands are gripped tightly onto the bed sheets, pulling so hard to ground yourself the cover has pinged off of one mattress corner but you don’t have it in you to care.

“Mommy, mommy I need you to cum, please… cum on my face please”

You’re not quite sure why that does it for you. Maybe it was the pleading and whining, or the way he sucks your clit back into his mouth so roughly when he was done begging. Whatever it was, it had you bursting at the seams immediately. You feel his left hand pushing down on your stomach as your pussy begins to convulse and throb, and a feeling hits you that you haven’t felt in a long time. With not even a second to acknowledge what he’s forced out of you, your pussy gushes into his mouth. It throbs harder as you squirt, every muscle in your body pulling tought and your head thrown back deep into the pillows. Chris swallows it all dutifully, moaning loudly into your middle at the taste of your cum on his tongue.

You’re not quite all back to yourself yet when he yelps and cries out your name, but you know exactly what just happened to him. His hips are still pistoning into the mattress when you finally look down, rubbing his sensitive cock through his orgasm like a pathetic dog. You can’t help but coo at him even through your laboured breaths.

“Thank you, baby, you made Mommy feel so good”

Chris whines at that, nuzzling his head into your stomach and grinning against your skin. What a perfect boy.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #oneshot #chris sturniolo oneshot #smut #sub chris sturniolo

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caterkinnie · 4 days ago

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I saw that your askbox was open. If i may, can you write a continuation of this ( Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...) with the rest of the dormleaders. It's so cute kasi eh. Also, can you include Rook, Sebek, and Jade in the place of Idia, Azul and Vil. Thx

Reader who cannot lie is put in an awkward situation...

❥ ⌗ Characters: Rook Hunt, Sebek Zigvolt, Jade Leech.

❥ ⌗ Tags: not really proofread. rook being silly. sebek being sebek. jade being cute<3

❥ ⌗ a/n: hiiiiii i started this blog when i was 15 and now im 18. crazy right???? happy new year!!!! sorry if its a bit awkward. its been a LONG time since I wrote for these characters.... tysm for your request!

Oh, it's Rook's fault this happened and he knows it.

You two were just having fun, he invited you to the forest just to walk around and relax. It was the sort of activity he'd love doing with you.

The two of you were completely alone, Rook loved to show you around his favorite hidden places, places that you imagine no one has seen before other than him….

And he was happy to do so, it was something you've done millions of times with him.

imagined he was hiding something, as his smile was a little bit too wide, his eyes were a little bit too mischievous. You knew when he was planning to mess up with you.

You were not expecting him to ask if you had a crush on anyone though.

“Eh?! What… Yes you do know him but…. ahh!! Yes, he's blond, why do you ask????”

He was giggling as he asked question after question…

What's his eye color? In what club is he? Is he from Pomefiore? How good is he as a hunter.

“Ah~ Mon cheri, don't get mad at me. I fear I know how you must be talking about… although, I imagine the feelings are reciprocated… Oh, such a beautiful expression you have!”

He has way too much fun with your quirk.

In this case, it wasn't directly to Sebek…

Lilia Vanrouge was extremely curious about you, as Sebek had never shown any interest in friendships with anyone. Let alone spending the amount of time he does with you, and even hesitating when he has to choose between aiding Malleus and having fun with you!

No one else had that effect on him, and you deep down knew it but… as a human, would he ever like you back? Would he feel ashamed to love you? Those questions plagued your mind, and stopped you from pursuing the kind hearted fae…

“What? If I like him…? ah… well… he's really sweet and- and…. Ah!!! Maybe a tiny bit but don't tell him!”

“AH?!?!?!”

And then you heard a loud scream of confusion from outside the door.

One you unfortunately recognized instantly.

Lilia chuckled as the door was bursted open, and Sebek was in front of you, his face was red… he wanted to say something… but something weird happened… He was at a loss for words!

You tried to explain yourself but…

“FOOLISH HUMAN! It's- it's bad manners to speak of someone behind their back! If….. If you wished to… If you wished to talk about those feelings, you must have told me directly, IF NOT THEN HOW COULD I PROPERLY COURT YOU?”

You were trying to impress Jade, but maybe you should have gone with a letter or some kind of book about fungi…

You've never cooked octopus before, and the cooking book wasn't helping at all either!

It seemed easy in theory… but you've tried it a million times and it still is not something you'd want to give to him!

He has really exquisite tastes! And if you mess it up maybe you'll mess this chance with him…

Or maybe you're overthinking.

Right as you were tried to finish the dish (which you were unsatisfied with the presentation and overall taste) you heard a chuckle from behind you.

“My, my… Are my eyes seeing this correctly? Who are you making this for?”

“...Of course it's for you.” No, dang it!

“And why, may I ask? what's the occasion?” His voice had a confused pitch, but his smirk gave it away. He was extremely amused by your attempts.

“....I though… maybe I could gift you this and then ask you out on a date….” No!! Why did you say that????

“...Fuhuhu… You're overcomplicating it… Maybe next time we can try to do it together? I can give you a few tips as well…. since it seems you've been trying for a few days, that is…”

He knew all of this time?!

Wait, is that a date?!

Reblogs are appreciated!

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #rook hunt #jade leech #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #rook hunt x reader #jade leech x reader

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immortalmrwavell · 1 month ago

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Rejuvenation

(Original story posted May 19th 2022) This story has been Updated!

This is a sequel to Taking Back Youth! Make sure to read it first!

“What to do… What to do” Mr Wavell muttered to himself as he floated around town, looking down at all the potential test subjects. A Lot of the time he liked to pick a man (usually a gay one) out of the crowd and just follow them around for awhile, learning a bit about their life as a simple observer before making his move. Though as his gaze scanned across the people, he noticed one man in particular that stood out. Not because of his looks or what he was wearing but rather because his soul and body didn’t match?!

Curiously Wavell floated over to the man as he walked through the street with a confident smirk. He was a tall, relatively broad man. Handsome features with a short beard and ginger hair. A hot piece of meat for sure but how the hell did he acquire this body? Wavell couldn’t sense any magic emanating from the man’s soul meaning he couldn't be a warlock himself. He looked deeper to see if he could sense the residual magic of another witch or warlock who may have done it. There was something but it didn’t seem to belong to another being. It was natural magic. Which could only mean he used some sort of magic item or spell to acquire the hunky body this man now possessed. Interesting.

Of course Wavell could’ve just read the man’s mind to find out everything he needed to know. Most of the time he would. But he couldn’t help but feel that took the fun out of figuring things out for himself sometimes. Sort of like looking up spoilers for an interesting TV show. But that said he wasn’t about to float around for days trying to figure out where this man’s soul had originally come from. So Wavell placed an invisible hand on the oblivious man’s shoulder and focused.

“Now. Let’s see what kind of body you gave up for this one shall we?”

The ginger stud felt a shiver across his body as Wavell used the soul within to find a link back to its original body. Within seconds he sensed the matching signature not far from here. After that he didn’t waste any time, teleporting away towards the signature and leaving the youthful hunk completely unaware of what had just happened.

———

Upon arrival, Wavell found himself in a small apartment a few blocks away. There was an old man who looked to be in his early 60’s sitting with his head down on a desk, surrounded by masses of empty beer bottles. It was a sad sight in all honesty. This guy had been in the prime of his life before it’d all been stripped away from him.

“Tell me. How exactly did you end up in that body?” Wavell spoke, allowing his form to become visible and his voice heard.

“HOLY FUCK! HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE!?” Evan screamed as he whipped around to see Wavell standing rather nonchalant behind him. Yet Wavell didn’t answer him. At first Evan was afraid. Terrified even by the man. But then a wave of calmness washed over him. He couldn’t explain why but it did. As though there was no need to fear the handsome suited man before him. “Wait… w-what did you say?” Evan asked, his voice still a little shaky.

“I asked how you ended up with that body.” Wavell repeated. “I found the man who was piloting your real one so I used him to find you.” He revealed as if it were somehow obvious.

Evan quizzed the strange man on how he even knew about that. Mr Wavell responded by informing Evan of his own powerful magic abilities. To prove such, the Warlock used his power to rid the apartment of all its mess. With a simple wave of his hand, beer bottles were gone, clothes were clean and folded, bed sheets were made and so on. Evan was completely dumbfounded but at least now he knew this guy was for real.

“It happened about a week ago… I was getting drunk at a bar after a bad breakup when this old dude started hitting on me. I accepted him for god knows what reason and the next thing I knew I was absolutely smashed out of my mind and fucking this dude in his apartment. After we fucked I blacked out and when I woke up, he’d stolen my body…”

“Do you know how exactly he was able to do it?” Wavell questioned.

Evan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. He just said something about a ritual I think. Also that swapping sexual fluids was the last component?”

“A ritual huh? He must’ve used some sort of magical item given to him to enact it. I wonder if Gilgamesh had something to do with that…” Wavell pondered while stroking a hand through his beard.

“Gilga-who now?”

“He’s a friend of mine with similar interests. Not that it matters to you.” Wavell gave a small smile. “Anyways I’m off. I was just curious about your situation. That’s all.” With that Wavell floated up into the air once again. He was about to teleport away when the flabby old man grabbed his leg. The warlock looked down as Evan began begging him to stay. Pleading with him to use his magic somehow to fix this and give him back his old body.

With a sigh, the warlock lowered himself down to the floor once more. “Look, Evan is it? Swapping souls, changing bodies, shifting minds. It’s what I live for. So why would I use my magic to correct something that I would've happily done myself in the first place?”

Evan’s eyes sunk as he looked back down at the aged, chubby body that’d been forced upon him. The last glimmer of hope he’d gained slowly fading as he sat himself back down on the bed. Mr Wavell was about to take his leave but as he glanced at Evan again, he couldn’t help but feel some sort of pity for the man.

Rolling his eyes he said to the man “Fine. I’ll help you out… but I’m not going to put you back in your old body.” Wavell said as his shoes touched the floor once again. Evan was confused, proceeding to ask how it’d be helping if not giving back his former body. Wavell was quick to respond. “Well from what I can tell, your soul is about 27 years old, correct? In that case how about I regress your current body to match that.”

Evan was fast to agree, eager to take anything he could get. As such, the warlock got Evan to stand towards the centre of the room. With a wave of his finger, Wavell conjured up a full body mirror out of thin air, allowing Evan to see his reflection. It was a sad sight which only got sadder when the handsome stranger waved his finger again to get rid of the old man’s clothes.

“Just so you can have a good view of this next part…” Wavell whispered while placing his hands on Evan’s shoulders. His palms began to emit a warm violet glow that was absorbed into Evan’s body, filling him with a strange sensation. A pulsing heat that surged its way across his frame and forced its way into every part of his being. It was as though he were being embraced by a warm aura of pure energy. But that was only the beginning.

It took a few seconds for him to notice but, as he stared into the mirror, Evan saw how the grey hairs on his head were slowly regaining their colour while his wrinkles began to fade. The fat across his body started melting away, loose skin getting tighter again while his body hair darkened and his skin became more tanned. Evan’s receding hairline started fixing itself, pulling forwards as his hair grew thicker and healthier, now completely dark without a trace of gray. The mustache on his upper lip became less pronounced, fading into a full face of stubble while his aged eyes regained a youthful glow. Lean muscle began to grow and define itself in places where fat had disappeared, restoring a strong and tight physique to his body.

“How are you feeling so far.” Wavell murmured, wrapping an arm around Evan before grasping his member. “Does the heat of rejuvenation feel good?” He added. Evan could only groan in response as his dick was flooded with newfound youth, growing hard as a rock at Wavell’s gentle touch. His body continued to regress back through its 30’s. Skin looking younger, hair looking thicker, testosterone increasing. His cock bucked with excitement as his balls began to churn, feeling so sensitive as Wavell continued to caress him gently. Then at last the heat began to subside as Evan reached his late 20’s once again. The same age his old body had been before it was stolen.

“I-I can’t… believe it.” Looking into the mirror, Evan could tell this was still Carl’s body but now… he looked like he could be a Men’s Fitness Model!

“Mhmm, this body was quite the looker in its younger days it seems. Perhaps not as muscular as your old body but certainly a few inches taller and I don’t doubt you’ll grow into it some more.” Wavell’s breath was hot against Evan’s ear, his beard brushing lightly against the back of the now youthful man’s neck. “Unless you want me to grow it for you.” He leaned in, kissing Evan’s neck while squeezing that excited cock a little.

“R-really?!” Evan pondered those words for a moment. Was Mr Wavell really offering to just hulk out his body right here and now? Evan had no doubt it was within the warlocks power after what’d just transpired but… he declined to Wavell’s surprise. “As fucking amazing as that sounds, I think I want to do it myself. If I’m gonna be bigger than the body that asshole stole from me then I want it to be thanks to my own hard work.” He stated confidently as he spun himself around a couple times, inspecting all his newly invigorated assets.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t have to be your entire body. Perhaps just one or two little things you want to improve? Things that you may not be able to change very much naturally?” Wavell tempted, making circles with a finger as it glowed purple.

Evan thought hard for a moment while checking himself out from multiple angles. He had to admit, one of the things he was missing the most from his previous body had to be his former bubble butt. Just the thought that Carl was now flaunting that ass around town and getting lord knows how much dick was pissing him off. Speaking of dick, his current one seemed around average at what looked to be about 6 inches yet his old one was certainly over 7 inches at least. He thought it over for a moment but soon decided to ask if he could get improvements in both areas.

“Oh that’ll be no problem whatsoever.” The warlock smiled kindly. “But how about we make it just a tad more interesting.” Wavell stepped around in front of Evan, having to look up slightly at the man before getting down onto his knees and taking Evan’s already excited cock in his mouth. Evan was shocked but couldn’t bring himself to fight against Wavell’s bearded lips.

Murmurs of satisfaction slipped from Evan’s mouth as Wavell worked his tongue around the shaft like a pro. It felt odd though, like the heat of magic that’d embraced his body earlier now emanating from inside Wavell’s mouth and wrapping around his cock. After that Evan felt what he could only explain as a second erection. Almost as if his cock had somehow only been at half mast before but was now growing even further! Veins bulged across his appendage as it engorged. Wavell continued to bob his head generously, gradually having to open his mouth wider as the cock inside he was making love too thickened. Wavell grabbed hold of Evan’s balls in the process, massaging them as he felt the leaking member slowly push itself further down his throat. Evan grunted, feeling his balls pull up slightly before dropping back down with a bit more heft than before. This repeated a couple of times with his balls getting heavier each time until he had a nice fat pair of balls that were teeming with cum and testosterone. After that, all Wavell had to do was go deep one last time, swallowing the entire cock and that was enough to send Evan over the edge. Warm nectar came flowing out, coating the inside of Wavell’s throat white with man seed before swallowing every drop hungrily.

After taking a moment to savour the taste, Wavell pulls himself away from Evan’s crotch. An audible pop could be heard as his lips released the wet member to swing down between Evan’s legs with a new heftier weight to it. Looking down Evan could see the clear difference in size. It was longer and thicker than his old dick ever was! Most notably was the fat mushroom head it now adorned, still dripping with cum. It had to be at least 9 inches! Probably a little more! Not to mention the heavy balls he was swinging now. It almost didn’t seem real.

“Woah! I can’t believe how huge it is now! Fuuuuck…” Evan gripped his new and improved manhood. The length was amazing, sure but god did the girth feel phenomenal. Not being able to wrap his hand fully around his cock was an almost euphoric experience. It made him feel superior in a strange way. Though that could’ve just been all extra testosterone talking.

Wavell chuckled as he pulled himself back up. “Now… time for that ass of yours.” Smirking as he pulled Evan towards the bed, pushing him down onto the sheets. Evan laid down on his stomach, his ass served up and ready to be bred. Wavell kicked off his shoes while unzipping his pants, soon pulling out his own monster cock. He pumped a little for a moment as he pressed a finger inside Evan’s hole. Yup, that was gonna be far too tight for his cock but it certainly wasn’t something a little magic couldn’t fix. Just then Evan felt a shiver pulse through his body as his hole suddenly loosened and relaxed. “Perfect.”

The neighbours could only wonder what the hell was happening in that apartment. Through the thin walls they could onlh hear constant echoes of deep grunting and groaning mixed with sounds of a creaking bed. But how could Evan not groan when he felt Mr Wavell’s fat rod slide inside him. Even after having his hole loosened, Evan still felt himself being stretched slightly while Wavell pressed his entire length inside.

After that initial penetration, the warlock began to work up a gentle pace. Pump after pump filling Evan up as he started to feel that warm magical sensation one last time spreading throughout his backside. Magical violet energy pulsed from Wavell’s dick like a constant orgasm, slowly but surely causing Evan’s ass to inflate. Both cheeks bubbling up with fat and muscle that began to jiggle with every thrust. Seeing that only made Wavell hungrier, pounding in with more and more intensity. When the growth subsided, Evan was left with a juicy bubble butt that any gay man would die for. To have and to fuck.

Of course just because the change was complete didn’t mean they were gonna stop. Ooohh no. They were both having way too much fun. Wavell continued to pound down into Evan for a good while first before they repositioned themselves. Wavell was soon laid on his back while Evan bounced on his dick as best he could. Obviously Evan couldn’t see the change that’d been made to his ass but he could most certainly feel it. All that extra padding rippled every time his ass smacked down against Wavell’s crotch. He was loving it to say the least. Not to mention his new, fatter dick jumping up and down with every bounce. It was certainly a sight to behold for both men.

They must’ve been making a ton of noise because a couple of position switches later they heard a knock at the door followed by a voice on the other side angrily telling them to quiet down. The pair only laughed at this of course, barely even stopping before getting back into rhythm. If anything, Evan made an effort to moan even louder simply to piss them off even more.

After a good while longer however, The Great Mr Wavell was finally hitting his high. By this point they were doing doggy style with Wavell speeding up his thrusts, his full balls smacking against Evan’s round jiggly ass. Evan knew exactly what was coming as he heard Wavell let out a deep groan swiftly followed by an intense pulsing inside his welcoming hole. Next thing Evan knew, the flood gates had opened and Wavell was pumping load after load inside him. Thick, sticky cum drenching his insides and even spilling out due to the sheer quantity.

Wavell must’ve stayed on top of Evan for a good five or ten minutes with his cock lodged inside the seeded hole. Sighs of relief could be heard however when Wavell finally decided to pull himself out, taking a moment to catch his breath before hopping off the bed. Evan on the other hand needed an extra couple of minutes before gathering up the strength to stand after that onslaught. But he was determined to get one last look in the mirror at his most recent change. And boy was he impressed by Wavell’s work.

“Ooohh yeah… I’m gonna rip half the pants I own now.” Evan grinned, looking over his shoulder at his reflection as he placed his hands beneath each of his thick cheeks and jiggled them. “Definitely gonna have to buy myself a new wardrobe.” Masses of dudes were gonna be drooling over his ass now! He played with his huge ass for a bit longer until he eventually fell back onto the bed again out of soreness. Wavell tucked his cock away into his pants. Of course he knew he could rid Evan of the pain from being stretched but he loved leaving the men he’d bred with a sore ass for a day or two.

“So, before I leave, I’m curious about something.” Wavell began while fixing his clothes. “What are you going to do about the man who stole your original flesh? I believe you said his name was Carl. Though he’s probably going by ‘Evan’ now.” He shrugged while grabbing his dress shoes.

Evan had to think for a moment. Before today he wasn’t sure if he’d have ever wanted to see his old self again unless it was to swap back somehow. The thought of seeing everything he once had piloted by another man seemed too painful for him. Having to watch that body snatcher flaunt that young hunky body he used to own. Now though? Things were very different.

“I’m not sure right yet. I’m still pissed at him for using me when I was at such a low point just to steal my life and body. Until you came along I’ve been nothing but miserable. I should hate him but… thinking about my original body is making my dick twitch…” Thoughts about Evan’s original ginger stud of a body swirled through his mind. His old cock and ass… god he’d want a chance to touch those again. Maybe he’d even get the chance to fuck himself!

Wavell laughed. “Well I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on you and check in every once in a while. Just to see how you’re getting on, you know? In the meantime I’ve made a minor adjustment to reality so all of Carl’s identification fits your new look. Nobody should suspect a thing.” Wavell tapped his shoes on the floor to make sure they were on properly before floating up into the air. “Enjoy your new life.”

Evan turned to thank the man for all he’s done but when he did, Wavell was already gone. Almost as if he were never there to begin with. Despite that, Evan knew he was still being watched.

“Thank you Mr Wavell.”

#male transformation #male muscle growth #male tf #mr wavell #old to young adult #age regression #identity theft #male body theft #magic #cock growth #ass growth

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bobur-the-berry-guy · 1 month ago

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Toman boys and winter activities!

• ft : mikey, draken, mitsuya, baji, chifuyu, hakkai, kazutora, takemichi, smiley, angry

• part 2 - tenjiku boys

part 3 - koko, inui, taiju, sanzu, hanma & kisaki, in the making!

• requests are open!!

๑ I definitely may or may not have favourites, is it noticeable?

Christmas market

Oh my god, eveything is so cute— Chifuyu absolutely loves the Christmas maker, but his wallet would say otherwise. The decor, the clothes, the knick-knacks - they're all calling to him. He touches everything, its all so cute, but he buys only a few things. He's not a big christmas person really, but the holiday vibe itself is more than enough for him. He just wants an excuse to be a bit more giving than he usually lets himself be. The christmas market is window shopping and he can guess what you'd like for a gift - it's a win-win! His favourite is when it gets dark and the christmas decorations around the street light up. The sky is dark and the weather is cold, but the warm glow of the lights and the warmth of thick scarves and hot chocolate make it one of his favourite times of the year. And to top it all off, you look breathtaking. All wrapped in your winter clothes like a present, his fluffy scarf bundled up to your face, cheeks and nose rosy from the cold, your breath cloudy around you, the colorful christmas light glimmering and bathing you in a warm light, and you're smiling and laughing— he's absolutely smitten. Be careful not to say too many things from the market are cute though, that would make his wallet wail.

Oh i know that the christmas market games hate to see Kazutora coming - this man is an absolute menace when it comes to that. If there are games to guess, he's gonna take his time thinking what would be the right answer. Be it how many candies are in this jar or what is the decoration in the box — best believe not only is he guessing correctly but he's taking the prize home with him and you. Never let him near a diy stations. Ever. Not because he won't have fun, but because he will make a mess. There's not a single time he hasn't caused absolute chaos upon a diy project, and the christmas market no different. The knick-knack he's made will be pretty and would match the rest of your decor, and the cookies he's embellished will only look even tastier, but the havoc he leaves behind is something you'd never wish on anyone else. As much as he cleans up after himself, it's still not little to deal with. To him it's worth it though. Seeing you giggling over him having elements of the decorations over him and cleaning him up is something he wouldn't trade for the world. He just might make a bit more effort into being messy if it would mean you're there to laugh and take care of him.

The christmas maker is calling Baji's name, but not for the decororations— its the food. He will make a point to look around and spy observe what the people are eating and drinking. By that he will guess what's the best you can try. That is to say it doesn't mean he'll exclude certain things just because not many people are buying it. He wants to and will take a bite or a sip from everything. He's going to check it out during the day and when it gets dark and cold and there aren't as many people, he'll take you there and have you try everything along with him. That just makes the food and the drinks better. Hot dogs, pies, baked goods, candied almonds and ginger, chimney cakes, gingerbread cookies, mulled wine, hot chocolate— there's a lot to try and everything is to be shared. There's no such thing as my piece of this or your piece of that. If you don't like something he's gonna eat it himself and vise versa. If you don't like something and make a face he wont let you live it down. He's gonna eat it himself yes, but each time he takes a bite he will make grimace just to annoy you. He won't tell you if he doesn't like the thing either, he'll eat it regardless even if its just to make tou giggle a bit. If you like something a bit more he's gonna let you have the most of it, not that he won't pretend he doesnt like it just as much. He's there to enjoy the goods, sure, but he's there mainly to enjoy being with you.

Ice Skating

Who would've thought Mitsuya was such a good ice skater? It's almost as unexpected as it is expected. He's skilled at so many things - cooking, sewing, fighting, riding a motorcycle- if you're to write down everything, it would take up half the day. But still, skating? He's full of surprises. He's taken you with him on the skating rink, just the two of you for once. Hakkai is looking after his sisters so you two can be on your date. You think yea, he knows how to skate, but not that he's so good at it. You're still struggling around the entering point, sorry if u can skate i cant holding onto the fence, and he's gliding around the rink like he's one of these fantasy movie elves. He makes it seem like it's as easy as walking. Moving smoothly in a slow rythm, just because he's a little rusty. He's twirling around elegantly, you can see just how ethereal he looks and- oh— you're still struggling to do it?? He's going to help you, but that doesn't mean he won't show off. It's his time to shine. On his way to you he's a bit faster, a bit more fluid, almost like he's dancing. He takes you by the hand to show you how it's done. He's chatting with you during that too- sure, you're focused on trying not to fall onto the ice, but he's holding you and he's having so much fun like that. Showing off doesn't hurt every once in a while, no?

You definitely wont be bored if you're skating woth Hakkai. He's good at it, he said. He can do it, he said. Thing is he can do it, but its about just as much as chicken can fly - not for more than 13 seconds. As you're putting on the skating shoes he seems to be a bit nervous, but then again it's Hakkai. As soon as you get in the rink you understand why he's so nervous. He's holding onto the fence, trying to move his feet the right way. He finally catches onto what hes supposed to do and he's drifting around you slowly in a fluid motion. He looks so graceful, peacefully skating along and— WHAM! The second you stop to admire him it's over. He was trying his best to impress you, he really was, but when he felt you genuinely looking at him his nervousness ruined it. He embarrassed himself so bad and you think he's lame now and— you're giggling. Not mocking at him, but giggling at him. "Ohmygod Hakkai- I'm sorry you just-- that was so silly— god, you're cute!" It's over for him now, it's sealed. If an ice skating injury doesnt end him, his heart will. He can feel it every time you look at him, every time you smile, every time you laugh - he feels it going into overdrive. It feels like its soaring, closing up his throat and stolping his brain from working. Please have mercy on him, he can only take so much!

See what i did on the Wham! part hihi

Snow activitities

You've got my condolences if you're out in the snow with Nahoya. You're out in a field, it's freezing and the snow is so deep it's like a snowy desert. You'd think he'd have some mercy on you when it's so cold but you're mistaken. He's pouncing on you with eveything he has - snowball after snowball is coming your way. He's throwing them at you anyplace he can hit too. It's like he's hunting you - hiding behind trees and snow piles, stalking you quietly, waiting for justtt the right moment— HEADSHOT! By the time he's finished with you you're basically a snowman inside and out. You've got snow in your hair, in and on your jacket, between your scarf and your neck, in your hair, your back— and it's so, so cold!! You have Nahoya laughing in your face, rolling around on the snowy ground. And now it's time to head back in. You're both pretty much soaking from the melted snow when you're finally at his place. Best to have a hot bath, you don't wanna get sick. I hope you're good at sharing because he's getting with you in the bath. He's washing your hair for you and you're gonna be soaking in that bath until your fingers prune and the water cools down. He's been so mean to you, now is his moment to make it up to you, no?

Who'd think that Takemichi was the outdoorsy type in winter? The snow is still fresh and its glistening in the sun, its so early still nobody else has went to wherever he's taking you. It's close enough, he says, you'll love it. And finally you're there - the biggest, cleanest, fattest snow slope you've seen. How did he even find that?? Near the city especially??? And it's untouched??? That doesnt matter right now though, you're both too busy running up the snowy monstrosity. He's pulling the small sleight, slowing him down a bit. That doesn't stop you from going ahead of him to the top, he's trailing right behind you. When you're finally ready and set on the sleigh he explains what to do - just hold onto him and don't let go. After you're hugging him around the waist securely he pushes the sleigh. It feels like you're flying down the slope. The icy air is brushing over your face. Your hair is like a whip waving behind you. The ride is so smooth. It feels like you're floating— and your on your side in an instant. The sleigh is sideways. You and Takemichi are laying in the snow. And you both start laughing. By the time you're up on your feet you're both teary and wheezing. The view up the slope was gorgeous for sure, but for Takemichi the better view is right in front of him.

As lazy as Mikey is, he'd never refuse a walk when it's snowing. His favourite time for that is during the late afternoon, right before nightfall. The city falls quiet, the cobalt sky contrasting with the warm streetlamps, the quiet people-chatter filling the streets. The atmosphere is so peaceful, especially when you're right next to him. Your breath creating a glittery mist around you, the twilight making your eyes look shinier. You're on your way to a cafe, passing trough a foresty park. Down the path you can see the marks people have left behind. It seems like the quiet little park would be so lively during the day. And finally you're at the cafe. Its a small cozy place, snuggled between the tall surrounding buildings. In front of it two tiny, perfectly shaped snowmen holding hands. "That's us" and he is right, they do look like you two - with their small scarfs, happy little smiles and intertwined hands. Mikey's hand feel warm agaist your in his pocket. You forgot your gloves and your hands were freezing before he gave you one of his gloves and took your other hand in his. You have moment to admire him, the dim light from the cafe making his gentle face look even more delicate. From the cafe you take a few sweets and a hot chocolate each. This time he takes you to a different way and you're at his home in just a few minutes. When you question him he says he wanted to take a walk but got lazy on the way back. In truth, though, he wanted to have you all to himself for a bit — he didnt need you to talk or to entertain him, he just wanted to you to be there with him. And he wanted an excuse to hold your hand.

Staying in

When it's freezing outside and there's not much to do it's best to stay home and chill, in Drakens opinion. What would you be doing out and about in weather like that anyways? It's best to stay in - its warm, cozy, and most importantly you both can relax. That is, until you dedice you want to make gingerbread cookies so bad. As much as he wants to he knows he cant refuse you, he's too weak to do that. And he only has himself to blame for his predicament. He's dolled up in a frilly apron, he some of the batter still sticks to his hands and there's flour everywhere. You're laughing at his pout, unbothered by the mess. Swatting at him, bending over in laughter— and he smacks you right back. Of course he doesn't do it hard, but he won't go down without a fight! And chaos ensuses. By the time the cookies are ready for decorating the whole kitchen is in dissaray - bowls are upside down and over, theres spoons everywhere, everything and you two are covered in flour. You're both barely breathing and wheezing from laughter, stomach hurting and eyes teary. Holding onto him for support, almsot falling laughing. He has flour all over his face, hair and clothes, and you're no better. You'd have a huge cleanup to doz but that can wait for a little bit. As stoic as he is, he's still smiling like an idiot at the whole situation. To him it only serves his preference to stay in, with you.

The best part of winter is when its the dead of the ice-cold night and you're home, warm and toasty for Souya. The wind is whispering quitely like a dove, a few scattered constellations twinkling across the midnight sky, only a few of the windows on the opposite apartments still glowing across the sleeping neighborhood. All that is tangible trough his window. Hes on his bed, snuggled up with you. Warm, cozy and safe. He can hear music still playing from his phone somewhere, but he doesnt care enough to turn it off. You've been on his big, fluffy blankets for so long that they seems to smell a bit like you. Even his pajamas feel infused with the heat of you, him and the blankets. You look peacefully asleep, resting next to him. He's caressing you. Normally he'd be too flustered to, but you're asleep and you feel so soft— surely you wouldn't mind. It feels like he's itching, burning to have you close to him. He feels like he could melt right into you. For once he finds his words to talk. "You're so beautiful." He's muttering the words so quietly, his voice is soft like that of a dove."i wish i could look you in the eyes to tell you that, you know?" He's caressing the side of your head. "Are you an angel? I think you are. To me, you are." He presses a kiss on your forehead. On your temple. On your cheekbone. On your cheek. Right at the corner of your lips. His lips feel so tender, he's so careful not to wake you up. He wouldn't ever live that down."I love you. I'm gonna tell you that when you're awake too, yeah? Good night." Of course, he didnt have to know you were awake. He needed his quiet moments too.

•

I'm gonna die from the cold here i despise the school heating system e s p e c i a l l y in the basement

I have 8 classes a week in the basement save me

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hypnobrainwasher · 2 months ago

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Weekly Instructions 4

(Yes, I will record this in audio form in a bit)

Week 4

Hey all you good girls, silly sluts, and sluts in theory but not in practice. This is the fourth and final week of this round of the edging instructions! It's my hope that this series of instructions can be used by anyone anytime, in sequence or out of sequence, as something fun to do that also provides you the direction and instruction that you so desperately need. As always, we don't count edges. Counting is for smart people. If you have to break up the edging times because you can't do it all at once, do some in the morning and some before bed, to put you in the best way all day.

Before we get into it, I want to say something to those of you who are shy about your body. You may not like your body. You may hate your body. You may be trying to make changes to your body. But I'm here to tell you that people will find you attractive, regardless of what you look like. That there's always people who will look at you and say to themselves, goddamn, she is beautiful. I promise. Take my word, because I'm smarter and more experienced than you.

Let's get into it.

Monday: One hour of edging. An hour on Monday? Yes. Use a toy for this. As the times increase, it may be more difficult to just do it with your hand, so use toys liberally for these. Plus, toys are just fun. Bonus points if you share which toy or toys you really like to use.

Tuesday: 90 minutes of edging. Your tits should always be out when you play, but they should especially be out on this, the holy holiday of Titty Tuesday. Always observe the holiday!

Wednesday: 90 minutes. Do some of this in a position other than on your back. Bonus points if the position lets you make a mess with how excited you are. It's one thing to know you're a drippy mess because you're following directions. It's another thing to see it confirmed.

Thursday: 90 minutes. It's almost Friday. No one gets any work done on Friday anyways. Do this late at night, before you have to wake up for work or school on Friday.

Friday: One hour in the morning, one hour at night. If you can't do it just like that, as always, do what you can. The edging should be making it hard to think, but really it's making it harder to worry about all the boring dumb stuff you worry about. I'm doing you a favor by overwriting your brain with desperate arousal. You should thank me.

Saturday: Unlimited. You probably ache so much anyways your hand was already subconsciously making its way down into your panties to play. Play all day. Hydrate, drink water, and just get playing. Who's a little drippy fuck doll? It's you.

Slutty Sunday: Unlimited edging. Nothing else matters. Work doesn't matter. School doesn't matter. You had plans? Cancel them. It's you in bed on your back with your legs wide open for me, desperately rubbing and teasing your cunt all day today. You need someone to do your thinking for you? This is me doing your thinking for you. Get rubbing.

Be a good slut, and tell me that you're being a good slut. Have fun!

#bimbo doll #bimbofied #edging and denial #mind corruption #edging kink #brainless #dumbification #edging slave #hypnosis #hypnotized

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bg-brainrot · 11 months ago

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Failed Every Insight Check and Fell all the Harder (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Companion piece to: Failed a Dex Save and Fell for You

Summary: After a few months of traveling together, Astarion has begun to experience some new feelings around you. After one fateful day in Moonrise Towers, he finally figures out what those feelings are.

Tags: Astarion POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Awkward Fluff, tw: mentions of astarion's past and all that comes with it, tw: mentions of araj scene, Feelings Realization, Jealousy

A/N: here comes the awkward, fluffy Astarion figuring out his feelings Valentine’s special. He’s a hot mess, of course. (happy Early Valentine’s because I will be busy on Valentine’s) And thanks to everyone who voted for this one!

Word count: ~4.8k

Ever since your group entered the Shadowlands, something has been bothering Astarion. He hadn't noticed at first– or rather, had tried his best to ignore it. But, as time goes on, he’s finding it more and more difficult to brush aside.

It had started out small. An odd pain in the pit of his stomach.

What was that? he'd thought, holding a hand to his abdomen in concern. Perhaps he was just hungry, but it certainly didn’t feel like the ever-present hunger in his belly. No, that was a dull, continuous ache. This? This felt like something was weighing him down. Maybe I’m ill. I shouldn’t mention it to anyone, lest Lae’zel slit my throat in my sleep.

Besides, the pain didn’t happen often. He noticed it a distinct few times.

Once, when you first entered the Shadowlands. He’d just watched you bend down, hands plucking at something off the side of the cursed lands’ road. He thought momentarily that he ought to stop you, that none of you knew what could be lurking in its magical darkness. But that tinge of worry was promptly replaced by that same gods awful pit in his stomach.

Because there you were, presenting your party’s cleric with your spoils. You were gifting Shadowheart a night orchid– had remembered that she mentioned loving them. You bore the woman’s wretched joke with a smile. Disgusting, Astarion thought. No wonder my stomach feels uncomfortable, what a pathetic little exchange.

Like everything that had bothered him in the last couple of months since finding himself free of Cazador, he decided to forget the feeling. Life is his to take full advantage now, why let something like that affect him?

Or so he thought until the next time the feeling made its return.

You had just arrived at the Last Light Inn as a group, found shelter through the Harpers’ well-established safe haven. Astarion was quite happy to be rid of the shadows, content to cozy up in an inn. He figured, if he played his cards right, you may even let him partake in your blood or ask for a bit of fun.

Then your party found Dammon. Equipped with Infernal Iron and one blazing hot barbarian, Dammon made magic happen in a matter of moments.

Astarion was glad. As much as the group was a bit much at times, he understood Karlach’s struggle with her body all too well. She deserved this small victory in reclaiming her body.

His feelings of genuine sympathy were short-lived though because a moment later you were wrapping your arms around the tiefling’s body. It was a test, of course, to see if Dammon’s fusing had worked. But there it was again, the feeling in his stomach. This time it felt twice as heavy, a lead ball in his guts. Maybe I should let someone know, he thought. This can’t be good.

But the sensation was soon forgotten as your group settled into the Last Light Inn. Old allies were in some miserable new states– requiring even more help, gods– and new acquaintances were made. It was all rather dull for Astarion.

The one time Astarion perked up was when you went head-to-head with the head Harper. He chuckled under his breath when you outsmarted the old crone, Jaheira. That’s right, Harper. Don’t mess with my protector.

Your first night at the inn was capped off with a bit of revelry: a game of Truth or Dare.

Astarion could sense your reluctance to play. You’d been acting odd all day, stiff and awkward around him. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to tease you to the high celestial plane– in fact, he already knew what he wanted to ask you. “You are going to regret this so much," he'd said to you from across the table.

Then the game began, and the deep, uncomfortable feeling never left his core.

Each and every companion received your attention throughout the game, in one way or another. Even that damned smith, Dammon, was given a dare from you. And Astarion just sat there, not even earning a glance, his mood growing more and more sour.

When, at last, he was able to taunt you with his question, you were far too in your cups to give a proper response. He sat on your lap, placed there from one of Shadowheart’s dares, staring into your surprised, open eyes, wishing that he'd thought of an easier question for an inebriated version of you.

The group had shooed you both out of the game upon seeing your state, though Astarion didn't mind. He'd much rather leave the lot of them and tease you by himself.

Once you were alone, you answered his question. That he, Astarion, was your favorite and for all manner of incredulous, unbelievable reasons. He’d expected you to say him. He’d asked to hear your praise, confirm your attachment in the name of his plan to seduce you. All the same he was left uncomfortable, juggling the sudden and unabashed flattery. Being praised for his looks was one thing but for being… himself?

The feeling in his stomach grew. Suddenly his lungs felt it, his undead heart felt it. What in the sweet hells is the matter with me? he thought, as he helped lay your drunken, passed out form to bed later that night. He hadn’t felt a sensation like this before– he hated it.

Then you reached out to him in your sleep, and he froze. Something about the touch quietened the pain under his ribs, and so he extended his fingers, gently touching your brow as you fell asleep. See? I’m fine, he assured himself. I truly am just ravenous.

He continued this way for several days in the Shadowcursed lands.

One moment, he was perfectly fine, hacking and slashing at a Shambling Mound with abandon. The next, he would look over at you, see you laughing at something Karlach said, and it felt like an iron ingot had made its way into his insides.

Damned tiefling woman. I’m far funnier than her, you know, he thinks, resheathing his knives with a little too much gusto. The sound of your laughter rang in his head for the rest of the evening, as if he were being driven to insanity by it.

The next day, you had fought a horde of Meazels. At first, Astarion thought the fight was delightful fun– the tiefling woman and the cleric kept getting teleported against their will and after his recent annoyance with both of them, he found it quite amusing. That is, until you found yourself garrotted, teleported as far away from him as possible.

He was on you in mere moments, ripping the creature off of you with his blades. It was almost as if he’d reacted instinctively and, as someone whose instincts typically led him away from danger, he found the sensation quite off-putting. Nevertheless, he'd freed you, asking, “Are you alright, darling?”

Astarion couldn’t remember what you’d even said because once he saw the marks the creatures left on you, the pit in his stomach dropped. Where there had been a heavy pressure before, there was now a sharp feeling. His eyes carefully trailed over your injuries, trying his best to focus on you and not the phantom pain building inside him.

You had been fine, nothing that a quick heal from Shadowheart couldn’t fix, but that feeling stayed in his stomach the rest of the day. It’s simply the Shadowlands, he'd thought. They not only play tricks on the mind, clearly they’re playing tricks on my body.

It was a few days later, as you helped the Harper’s deal with their lantern problem that the sensation shifted again.

Astarion watched, eyes glued to your form, as you dispatched the hideous drider, your twin blades piercing the creature in its most vulnerable spots. He’d seen you kill many monsters before, hundreds likely at this point. But something about the way your body moved in the Moonlantern’s glow, the way your face lit up as the creature’s body crumpled to the floor, caused the vampire to stop and watch.

This time, he’d felt the heavy sensation move up, somewhere just below his throat. He tried against all odds to gulp it away, but nothing seemed to work. We need to finish our business here and get out as soon as possible, he thought now, convinced it was the shadows warping his senses…

But as your travel continues, the feelings never go away.

It’s a different pressure, it builds, it ebbs, it flows between his heart, his stomach, his torso– and each time he brushes it off. Stewing in these uncomfortable feelings, Astarion spends the week in a hazy mire, not unlike the shadows that surround you all.

Then your group finally infiltrates Moonrise.

Moonrise Towers, the seat of the Absolute and a once grand fortress.

Now, Astarion can’t help but think it seems rather underutilized. Your group is walking along the empty parapets outside, which are woefully missing any sense of grandeur or ornamentation. “Darling,” he says, leaning into you slightly. “Don’t you think we ought to just kill everyone now and take the place for ourselves. Might be quite fun.”

You bark out a laugh, which he feels proud to have produced, and reply, “Maybe later. This is an infiltration mission only. Besides, once we defeat the Absolute, I’m sure there will be a vacancy.”

Astarion laughs back at you. Gods, he enjoys this. The way that he can say something that others would balk at and you will miraculously not only appreciate it, but also play along with it. Having fun with them is so easy, he thinks. And look, I’m still wearing all of my clothes! What a novel idea.

The thought is cut short when your group walks through an outside doorway into a room that can only be described as grotesque. Whoever works here clearly has some knowledge of arcana, if the ingredients and alchemical tools are anything to go by, but it smells utterly foul to Astarion.

It’s when you spot the drow woman hunched over a table in the corner that he realizes where the stench is coming from. Hells below, that woman reeks of something truly awful, he thinks, recoiling. He’d grown used to following behind you closely, but as you step forward to speak to the woman, he finds himself taking a step back instead.

The woman introduces herself as Araj Oblodra, a trader of blood– a rather poor trader, by the smell of it. She takes note of Astarion, who shuffles back instinctively, before you and her go about some kind of business with your blood. Astarion contemplates speaking up, shooing you away from her, but decides to stay back, as far away as he can remain without arousing suspicion. They can handle themselves.

Then, after the woman looks back toward him one too many times, he hears you snap, “And why are you so interested in my pale friend?”

“Ah, yes. Perhaps there’s one more thing we could discuss,” she begins, her voice a dangerous drawl. “He’s a vampire, no? Or one of their spawn at least.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Astarion says, all-too-ready to fill his role. “We’re all friends under the Absolute. I won’t bite.”

“Oh, I’d prefer if you did,” she’s quick to respond. Her eagerness picks at Astarion’s nerves, and he raises an eyebrow at her. Araj doesn’t deign to give him another moment’s look though, as she turns back to you. “I assume he belongs to you?”

“Excuse me?” Your voice sounds offended– on his behalf, Astarion wonders? “He’s his own person.” Your words cause the feeling in Astarion’s stomach to flip, and, as much as he wants to come to his own defense, he finds himself quite content to hear you do it for him.

“I’m sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable,” she says with a snide chuckle.

Adorable? he thinks, but he’s unable to interject before the woman continues to barrel forward.

The blood trader turns back to Astarion, face wrinkled with distaste as her tone changes to something a bit more confrontational, “Do you have a name, spawn?”

Her sudden shift in attitude, the proud tilt to her head, it all throws the vampire off balance as he goes to answer, “Astarion, b-but hold on!” Astarion holds up a hand to try to slow this woman’s tirade, all to no avail.

“Good. Now, Astarion, I’ve dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl,” Araj begins, laying out the scene for her request.

Too bad that the scene sounds quite ridiculous to Astarion. Surely he heard her incorrectly? “I’m sorry, you want to be bitten?”

The woman goes on a new insane diatribe– something about dancing with death– but Astarion can hardly be bothered. All he needs to know is that she’s offering some measly potion for being bitten and, gods, does he not want to bite this woman’s disgusting neck. Or wrist. Or really any part of her. “I will have to decline,” he says, with a gracious little bow. Your group is still infiltrating the towers, it wouldn’t do to tell Araj exactly how horrid she smells.

It’s entirely more grace than she deserved, that much is clear because she presses him again. Again, he refuses. “I gave you my answer.”

The drow scoffs, turning back to you once more, “Can’t you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?”

You, for your part, look confused. There’s a line of concern in your forehead as you look between the woman and Astarion, wondering what it is that you’re missing. “I’m surprised, Astarion. I thought you’d enjoy an opportunity like this.”

What?! he thinks, a sudden, sharp spike of anger shooting through him. He tempers his immediate rage and speaks to Araj with that same, false pleasantry she doesn’t deserve, “I’m sorry, but could you excuse us a moment?”

Astarion, not waiting for her response, pulls you aside, away from the drow’s nosy eyes and ears. Once you’re alone, he turns to you, his voice a hiss, “Are you actually asking me to do this? Trading me for some-some-some potion?”

“What’s the matter? Why would she be different from any other enemy?” you ask, leaning toward him.

Your voice is full of genuine worry, and some of his anger abates as he meets your eyes. Of course, they don’t know what they’re asking. How could they know? “Because there’s something wrong with her blood. I can smell it from here. Ugh, it’s rank.”

Now your brows furrow, and a sharp edge enters your eyes as you ask your next question, “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her blood?”

“I can’t say. It just smells… wrong. Unnatural.” His words sound pathetic to his own ears.

Of course that’s not an excuse, Astarion laments. What am I even thinking? The potion is clearly useful. They are going to make me do this, and I may as well prepare myself. I’ve put up with worse after all.

So, he stands straight once more, ready to put on the performance of a lifetime. His tone takes on a resigned tone as he continues, “Drinking it wouldn’t kill me, but it would not be pleasant.”

You both hear a sigh from behind you. “I don’t have all day, True Soul,” Araj calls, impatiently.

Your eyes remain focused entirely on him, ignoring the woman’s irritated sigh, her entitled words. “Astarion,” you begin, and he takes a breath in preparation for your other foot to drop. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And if she refuses to take no for an answer again, we’ll simply have to start our assault on the towers a bit early.”

The breath leaves him.

"Alright. Uh, thank you,” he says, feeling the tension drop from his shoulders. He’d been prepared to acquiesce, to do exactly what you’d asked of him. But this? This is something he hadn’t been prepared for.

In a daze, Astarion makes his way back to Araj, putting on as polite of a facade as he’s still capable of making, “It's still a ‘no’, I’m afraid.”

“How very disappointing,” the blood trader says, shooting you both a disgusted look. She turns away in a huff, leaving your group alone to recover from the exchange. And leaving Astarion floundering in another new sensation.

Because once more, the feeling in the pit of his stomach has reared its ugly head– only this time it shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He's not sure what it is, but it's stunned him into slipping off his carefully crafted mask. He turns to you once more, voice soft around its usual edges, "Thank you. I… appreciated that.”

"You have no need to thank me. It was always your choice, Astarion."

Huh.

The feeling sinks into him, settling deeper and deeper as you continue through Moonrise.

That night, you go to bed in your own bedroll, leaving Astarion to his meditations with a smile and a wave. It has been a long day for all of you, and it's clear from the way you take a glance back that you're worried about him.

Gods, he's worried about him.

After dealing with that vile drow woman, you'd all continued about the tower, ingratiating yourselves with even the most repugnant of creatures to appear faithful to the Absolute. But Astarion paid attention to almost none of it.

He'd stabbed when you told him it was time to stab, he'd joined your side when you called him to you, but his mind had been wholly preoccupied.

They didn't make me do it, he'd thought, as he unlocked some chest.

Well, isn't this exactly what I wanted? he'd thought, following you down some stairs.

Clearly they just fell for my charms, my masterful seduction, he'd thought, flanking a prison guard for you.

So why do I feel like this? he'd thought, staring at your back as you led the way before him.

Now, he lays here in his tent, staring at the fold of its ceiling in a rapt fascination he doesn't feel. The feeling in his stomach has stayed all day, tethering him to his thoughts with its continuous pressure.

When did I get to the point where I would follow them anywhere? Is their lack of self-preservation contagious? he asks himself, eyes narrowing in frustration. I shouldn't have gone into that horrendous tower in the first place. Then I wouldn't feel like this.

But he had.

And you'd not forced him to do so.

You'd not forced him to do anything.

They're a fool, an utter fool. I could have bitten that drow, as easy as breathing, he thinks, rolling his eyes at the thought. Close your eyes and push through, that's what I always say.

But did you want to? something in the back of his mind asks.

Of course not, but when has what I wanted ever mattered–

It may not have mattered under Cazador's grip, but it has always mattered to you. You're nothing like that evil man. You'd always been there for him, had managed to find trust in your heart for him, and had been genuinely kind to him.

The now-familiar feeling in his stomach seems to spread to the rest of his body, a warmth that doesn't quite feel warm. It bleeds all the way to his face and his lips curl up into an involuntary smile at the thought of you.

You– you, who had only ever been meant to play a bit role in the tragedy that is Astarion’s life. You, who had transcended your part, leaving Astarion contemplating every aspect of you in the stark solitude of his tent.

Your beauty when you're covered in blood after a battle, the mischievous glint in your eye when you're teaching a child a sleight of hand trick– even when anger pulls your brows together and you're yelling at him for saying something particularly naughty. Each and every one makes his smile grow wider.

You, his chosen protector, are so much more than just that.

They are incredible. The thought comes to him unprompted, truly as easy as breathing.

His eyes widen in alarm, staring blankly at the tent above him.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t an illness. Nor was it hunger. No. It was guilt. It was jealousy. It was…

Oh fuck, Astarion curses to himself. Am I in love?

Now that he has a word to the sensation, that the feeling is in his grasp, he knows he's right. He doesn't have a lot of experience with love, if any– he'd never had the luxury under Cazador's cruel gaze and he can't recall much from before that– but he knows he's right.

And hells does he wish he could crush the feeling in his hands right here and now.

Gods, you complete and utter imbecile, he thinks, hitting his head against the floor. You have things to do, goals to accomplish. They were only supposed to be a means to those goals, not a – a–

Astarion’s mind blanks as he thinks of you again, your charm, your wit, your damnable caring.

Not a companion. Not a friend. Not a lover. When did those late night trysts turn from an obligation, a part of his simple, perfect plan, into something more?

Even now, as he thinks of those nights, he brings a hand to his lips, recalling a night where you had simply stayed in his bedroll. You had kept all of your clothes on, as had he, and simply held each other as you fell asleep. Their kiss that night was delectable, he recalls, tracing the line of his lips, as if he could still feel the ghost of yours on them.

Fuck, he thinks again, dropping his hand in frustration. How could I have been so blind? How did I not nip this in the bud before it got to this disgusting pining?

But he hasn’t nipped it in the bud. The feeling has grown, unfettered, quick as a druidic plant growth, all unbeknownst to him. It has been nurtured by your attention. It has been watered by your kindness. It has become unruly in the safety of your arms.

Now what? he thinks to himself bitterly, wiping a hand across his face with a sigh. What use are these feelings when everything they were built upon is a lie? You are, after all, still playing the role he set out for you.

He considers overlooking the feelings, just as he has inadvertently done in his ignorance. It wouldn’t be of any use to tell you, of course. You could hardly feel the same way about him as he does you, and he’d rather not add another nuisance in the fight against the Absolute.

Besides, if he told you, he would have to fess up, explain his entire plan to you. What would even be left of the two of you after that?

But, he thinks to himself. Let’s say I did tell them. What could they possibly say…

“I was pretending all along too.” – gods, that would break him. That much is all too apparent from the way his undead heart aches at the thought, with a pain he couldn’t possibly feel.

“I like you, but not like that.” – maybe this was worse. Actually, it was definitely worse. He may never recover. His ego would certainly never recover.

“I have someone else that I love.” – honestly, reasonable. What did he have to offer you after all? A bloodthirsty master and the occasional snarky comment? He wouldn’t be surprised to find you in Karlach’s tent at this very moment…

“I hate you.” – he might be able to take this the best. You should hate him. He’d done nothing but lie and manipulate his way into your bedroll. Hate, well, that he understood.

“I love you, but…” – every single 'but' cut like a different, jagged blade. But we’re in danger every day? An excuse, surely. But you come with too much baggage? True, but not something he would be able to resolve. But I don’t want to be with a monster? Again, reasonable, but out of his control.

Astarion runs through scenario after scenario, each one playing with his own emotions in a new and horrendous way. In the end, he all but slaps himself out of it.

No, I cannot tell them. I absolutely must take this to my second grave, he determines, shaking the thoughts away with a few hard blinks.

But the feeling in his chest is more persistent than ever. As if giving it a name and meaning has given it a new, annoying life. He laments to himself aloud, "I may never feel like myself again.”

If this is what love does to a person, he wants no part of it.

The vampire didn't have a restful night's reverie, that much is apparent. His mood is foul, his body tense, and his eyes are trying their damnedest to avoid yours.

No way, he thinks as you all set off for the day. I spun myself into a frenzy last night. Clearly. I feel absolutely nothing–

Then you turn back to him, concern lining your eyes as you address him. What had you just said? He had found himself somehow lost in your eyes, your lips, the turn of your nose…

Shit, he thinks to himself. No, get back in control. You have only just reclaimed yourself, you can't lose yourself to something as cruel as love.

But, try as he might, his eyes can’t avoid you.

All morning, he continues to sneak glances your way. Despite his roguish nature, he finds hiding his stares to be impossible. After all, you are the group’s leader. You are at the front, you are at his side, gods, you are everywhere. This feels like some kind of divine punishment…

You catch him looking, of course. And each time, he curses himself, gods, you idiot. You may as well broadcast your feelings to the world. And hells, how long have you felt this way?

Astarion tries futilely to act normal. This is just another day with the group in the Shadowlands. He’s not thinking about holding your hand in his. He’s not thinking about the way you look when you sleep. And, above all else, he is not thinking of your lips or the way that they move when you say his name.

Despite his inner turmoil, the world moves on. You lead the group through the Mason’s Guild, and you all manage to clear the place out easily enough.

The vampire thinks he’s finally reaching some sort of peace. Yes, this routine work he can do. No problem at all.

Then, you say something kind to Karlach, that infernally charming woman, who continues to support you at your side. Who, for all intents and purposes, should be the person who warms your bedroll at night, now that you can touch her. Not him, the man who can only make your bedroll colder. Who, even now, is avoiding your every glance.

Oh hells, he thinks, face dropping. The realization that he’s right is too much for him to bear.

Astarion stalks off, annoyed at himself and his thoughts, needing a moment to recollect himself. I can do this, he thinks. I can do this. I can–

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath once he knows he’s alone. “You’re supposed to get over this, you stupid fool. Shit. Gods dammit.”

He hears your familiar footfalls approaching and freezes, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

You find him in a pool of shadows away from the others, and he can’t help but feel like a beast that’s been cornered. He’s certain his face reflects that, reflects every bit of emotion he’s feeling as plain as could be, but your patience with him has apparently worn thin for the day. Your voice is less kind than usual when you say, “Do you need to talk?”

Seeing the anger in your face, the way that your hands are placed on your hips in annoyance, he knows he can’t keep his feelings to himself. He’ll only continue to push you away, into the strong, red arms of another.

No, he thinks, in a panic. I should– I need to–

He needs to do something about his feelings, unwanted or not. Really, he needs to tell you, regardless of what your response may be. If not, he may regret it for the rest of his undying life.

Now that he is in control of his own choices, he supposes that means all of them, for better or worse. That means even the most difficult ones. This is one of those difficult ones, isn’t it?

So Astarion swallows his pride, his anxieties, his insecurities, and settles his fate.

“Later,” he says, barely getting the words out. He blinks, and tries again, pleading with you with his eyes, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

Later, I will tell them. Everything.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion pov #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion feelings realization

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minty364 · 11 months ago

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DPXDC Prompt#148 Part 2

Danny feels himself grow bright red and the two stare into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity.

“I- Uh… I’m Danny” He finally managed to mutter.

“Damian Wayne, its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Danny's blush grew even brighter as the next moment Damian kissed his hand, Danny couldn’t help but feel flustered.

After a moment Danny rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stuttered out, “It’s nice, to meet you too” He could tell how happy Damian was to meet him and he felt a little bad for feeling nervous in the first place. Danny thought Damian was cute and he decided then that he wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better. First they had to get through the rest of the gala, and soon as he thought about the gala something clicked.

He realized Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne who at the moment was talking to his own parents. He couldn’t help but stare as he let the information sink in.

“Ah yes it looks like Father is talking to some of the scientists that were invited.” Ancients, Danny knew his parents couldn’t help being themselves and unfortunately that meant things like accidentally spilling fudge right onto Mr. Wayne's suite. They watched as Mr. Wayne told his parents it wasn’t a problem and then walked out of the room.

Danny couldn’t help but sigh, “Sorry about them, my parents are a little eccentric. Don’t even get me started on their obsession with ghosts, my dad will not shut up sometimes.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck nervously again as he realized he was rambling a little bit.

“Don’t worry it looks like Father handled the situation well, although I am curious what kind of inventions two scientists obsessed with ghosts create. That’s what this gala is about, we want to support scientists in untapped fields of study.” Danny listened as his soulmate explained things to him.

Danny looked over to see Vlad talking to a thin scientist in the corner of the room. He was definitely up to something, a ball like this had Vlad scheming something with a mad scientist written all over it.

He was brought out from his thoughts as a loud crash could be heard as the wall across the room burst open and none other than the Joker walked through.

Danny tried to make his way to the other side of the gala, strangely Damian had disappeared but Danny didn’t have the time to look for him.

However when he got to the door staying low to the ground the door burst through and more of Joker's goons looked straight at him and he found himself tied up right in front of the Joker.

“What do we have here? A new Wayne?” Joker said as he cupped Danny's face in his hand. Danny couldn’t do anything about the situation and he was getting a little scared considering he didn’t have a proper way to go ghost or protect his soulmate at the moment.

The Joker circled around the tied up hostages laughing, “Of course now the fun begins”

The Joker continued to circle around the hostages thinking for a moment before he grabbed Danny.

He held Danny by the back of the shirt like a small kitten. His obsession was making him wonder if his soulmate was safe living in Gotham. Joker chuckled as he continued to hold Danny.

“This kid will be an example for the rest of you, I don’t want any outbursts like that again, especially when Batman gets here. Do you think Batman will like what I’ve done with the place?” He asked as he gestured around the ruined room. All of the tables and chairs had either been broken or knocked over and all of the food from the dessert and appetizer tables. It was quite the mess. Before Joker could do much else with the teen he had dangling in his grasp something flew out and smacked Joker right in the back of the head causing him to drop Danny.

Danny took that opportunity to get away, his hands may have been tied but his feet were sure free. He stumbled away as Batman dropped down and a fight between him and the Joker commenced.

Danny ran towards the door and as he got there Robin and Nightwing were there ushering some of the other hostages out of the room.

“Right this way citizens!” Nightwing said brightly at them but he seemed to brighten up a bit more when he saw Danny weirdly.

“Have either of you seen Damian Wayne?” Danny asked, he at least wanted to get his number, especially when he was headed back to Amity soon.

They seemed to share a look before looking back at him, “Damian left, he’s headed safely back to Wayne manor.” Robin said but he held out a piece of paper. On it was Damians signature and his phone number. Danny sighed a little annoyed he had left but he guessed it was common to head back home after a rogue attack in Gotham.

“Danny!!” the booming voice of Jack Fenton was suddenly heard and Danny felt himself getting pulled into a very familiar bear hug.

“Did you have fun at the gala? Your father and I saw you talking to Mr. Wayne's son,” His mother said after his feet were back on the ground.

“Yeah, actually can we talk about that after we’re back in our room?” He wanted to tell his parents he found his soulmate but saying that outloud when Damian was the son of Bruce Wayne sounded like a bad idea.

They headed back to the hotel room and all Danny could think about was how lucky he was to have met his soulmate tonight, even if he was nervous about everything.

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#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #poor danny #Damian thinks its cute that he flustered his soulmate so much #I feel like I'm bad at this LMAO #how does one write romance?#Please tell me if I'm doing this wrong #I want to write the reveal but I don't want to do it right away #suspense? how do I write that?#Well I tried to do a little bit of action #I love the idea that Danny's so light everyone just throws him around like a ragdoll #Ragdoll theory? I cant remember if there was an actual name for it #anyways I've got to go look for a job now #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use #soulmates

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little-writers-posts · 9 months ago

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Something More Between Us (The Milkman x GN Reader)

Author's Note: A short draft that was playing in my mind because of the milkman on TikTok. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 781

The clock marked 9 p.m., marking the end of my shift as a doorman at the apartment complex where I live. I stretched out on the chair and sighed. At the same time, the other doorman comes through the door to take my place and start his shift.

“Hey, (Y/N), how was your day?” he asked as he started to unpack his things.

“A little tiring, to be honest. Had four residents, plus two without an entry request, and caught six doppelgangers, some more violent than others, but it comes with the job, I suppose.” I said as I packed my things.

“I’m lucky to be on the night shift” he smiled. “I only have three tenants on the list, and according to the DDD all the tenants are in the building except for those.”

“Don’t be careless. Our lives are at stake here.” I warned. “But, you’re right, you’re lucky.” I smiled.

I quickly scanned his list for the night and my heart skipped a beat. Francis name was there, I assume he left for his job as a milkman and, if I remember correctly from my night shifts, he was one of the first to arrive.

When I started working as a doorman as well as living at the building, one of the perks was to get to know the people who lived in the same space. I always thought that Francis was good-looking, even with those tired eyes. However, even if we do chat a bit at the door or on the occasional bump in the corridors, we never really moved past that. He is a very reserved person and prefers to keep things private, I get that, plus he never seamed that interested in me.

As I was lost in thought, I heard two voices in the entrance lobby and realised my colleague was gathering all the folders to check the information.

“Mmm… Hello” I heard Francis say through the door.

“Good evening mister Mosses” greeted the doorman. “Let’s see…”

I resume my packing, picking up some final things left and reaching for the keys to my apartment.

“All good! You may go.”

“Perfect.”

The second voice reached for the window, “Good evening.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Looking good as always Mr. Gauss”

Once I had everything I left for my own apartment. When I reach the elevator, I saw that Francis was holding the door.

“Oh, thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, “Izaack is also coming so I thought I might wait for both.”

I joined in and backed up against the wall, standing next to him.

“Our prettiest doorman is joining us today, its always a pleasure walking with you” Izaack mentioned as the door shuts, “Did you think about my proposal?”

I sighed for what seems like the thousandth time today. “I am not interested in going on a date with you, thanks.”

“Oh, come on, (Y/N).” He insisted. “It’s going to be fun, I promise. And I’m not just talking about dinner, you know?”

He stepped closer to me. Suddenly, I felt slightly trapped in that elevator. I tried to move further back, but I was already up against the wall. Isaack started to raise his hand to grab me by the chin and possibly bring me even closer to him. However, it didn't come to that. A body came between me and the raised hand.

“Geez, Francis, relax” Isaack chuckled. “I was just messing arround.”

The doors to the elevator opened on the second floor. Isaack was walking out into the corridor, but looked back before the doors closed again.

“You sure can be scary when you’re angry Mosses” He gave that characteristic smile of his. “See you tomorrow.”

The doors closed and Francis moved out of the way.

“Thank you” I whispered to him.

“Hm.” He raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, if he ever bothers you again liked that, let me know, ok?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Francis” I said while massaging the back of my neck “He's infuriating, that’s true, and persistent, but I can deal it him.”

The elevator reached the third floor.

“I mean it.” He said while leaving to his apartment. “I… I do worry about you.”

I was about to put the key in the door when I suddenly stopped and looked at him. He stared at me with his tired but expectant eyes.

"I didn't know..." An embarrassed but broad smile appeared on my face "Thank you, Francis, I care about you too, a lot."

He nodded and gave a small smile, turning and heading for his apartment.

After all, there might be something more between us than I thought.

#milkman x reader #milkman #francis mosses #Francis #francis mosses x reader #x reader #reader #x you #you #thats not my neighbor #doppelganger #doppelganger francis mosses #The milkman #Francis x reader #Francis x you #Francis Mosses x you

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twisted-wonderland-memories · 1 year ago

Text

Gift of…..

Characters: Housewardens x GN! Reader/Yuu (with a little bit of the first year groups)

Summary: You may not believe this, have you been getting gifts secretly from the Housewardens? You are the only one who is lucky to have a armband from their respective dorms but….that one isn’t the only thing. You swore that you didn’t do anything.

Before the Gift

It has been how many days since you live in Night Raven College, you are kinda like a Housewarden in the Ramshackle dorm and yet you are pretty much not paid enough by Crowley. As much as you like to complain, you can’t find yourself to do……unless you are finally pissed off…

Tho you do have to admit that it feels less lonely compared to how you were back on earth. Twisted Wonderland is still a mysterious place, even tho you didn’t ask for trouble they insisted to letting you understand more about their world. Lately Grim notice that you have been….distant lately, sure it was fun to stay in this world, but it feels rather….lonely….

Others got what they truly deserved….but what about you?

You had no magic at all but all you can do was tame the beasts, seeing how everyone was enjoying their lives it makes you think that you are the odd one who is feeling left out, there were times that you were also ignored form others. It was unfair truly, but you still kept that strong face of a forced smile, Grim, Ace, and Deuce notice that from you and tried to help but none of their attempts work. Just as all hope was all lost, they all had one idea….

It was their last resort, but they know that it was worth it.

Riddle Rosehearts

You were minding your business alone in a different place, but when you saw Riddle coming towards you, you immediately thought you are screwed, but instead it was rather the opposite. Riddle decided to give you a small gift box.

"Riddle....what is..."

"It is a gift of course? You had any problems with that?"

Riddle was staring at you, tho you were trying your best to ignore about how you are actually feeling. It still concerns him to see that you are honestly sad.

"If you are still unsure, why don't you open it?"

"Is it okay?"

"Yes. Please, go ahead."

You decided to open the gift, inside of it was an armband of Heartslabyul and a few mini cookie bag. It surprises you and yet there was one more, there was a necklace that was in a theme of hearts.

You looked at Riddle surprised about all of this, "I-Its to repay you for your efforts in the dorm...." But you saw Riddle gently picking your hand up and give it a kiss, "I am thankful." He said as you can see his face a blushing mess, "If I see you being depressed, its off with your head....alright?" He asked as you nodded before you saw Riddle quickly walk away.

Honestly...that was really cute of Riddle when you think about it.

You were honestly stunned at the results, and yet...it honestly makes you happy.

Leona Kingscholar

The next day, you were minding your own business relaxing alone and yet....

If Riddle isn't the only one who is planning to give you gits, you were soon surprised when Leona suddenly captures you into his arms the second he finds you alone.

"Leona?! What are you doing here!?"

"..."

There was no reply when you were in his embrace, and yet you did feel that his hug was sincere and gentle. Tho he doesn't even want to bother asking you personal stuff.

"You know herbivore. Your pretty relatable..."

You don't understand his words, "What do you mean by that?" And yet you saw his tail giving you a gift box before he lets go of the hug and simple leave you alone, leaving you all confused.

You don't even know where to begin with all of that and yet, you attention turned to the gift box before opening it.

It was a Savanaclaw armband, but there was also your favorite item inside the box. You were surprised and yet, it was pretty similar to how Riddle gave you almost the same gift, tho you were wondering why did he do that in the first place.

Does that mean you also have to give something back to him?

And yet you had a strange feeling that it somehow wasn't the first time, how did they know your like this item. It was strange and a bit creepy. But....then again...

It slowly feels rewarding when you think about it.

Azul Ashengrotto

"Ah~ I found you at last~"

Azul found you when you were alone again at the garden, you were simply admiring the view when he appeared out of nowhere.

"Azul? Do you need something?"

"No not really, but I came here to give this to you~"

To your hidden guess, Azul gave you a gift box. "Think of it as our reward to you for helping out the Monstro Lounge~ I hope that you might continue your efforts~" Azul said gently holding your hand and giving it a gentle kiss, which does fluster you but at the same time....

"Azul...isn't it out of character for you to kiss my hand?"

"!!!"

Azul immediately backed off a blushing mess and was trying to explain himself as to why did he do that, tho you comfort him immediately by simply letting him know not to force himself to do that in the first place.

Even if Azul tried to defend himself for that case, but deep down he was also happy to know that you were not offended by his actions, its makes him happy to know that you still accepted him even if you don't understand him well.

Later on, Azul leaves and you decided to open the gift box, as you secretly guessed it was the Octovinelle armband, but that alone wasn't the only one. There was also a bottle of perfume that matches their scent which you actually like it, and an adorable picture of baby....Azul...

Floyd and Jade added that picture secretly didn't they...

Kalim Al Asim

"PERFECT!!! I FOUND YOU!"

"?!"

Off to a fun start on a next day. Kalim found you and gave you a greeting surprise hug which you had to catch him in time. Tho you were surprise when he suddenly lift you up and twirl with him.

"I'm glad to see you at the perfect timing!!!"

"?"

It was almost bad timing for you tho....it was almost time for class and yet it should be fine since it was around 15 minutes for the classes to start.

"Say, Perfect..." You can see Kalim asking how are you, how are you feeling, and more even tho you reassure him that you were fine. But to Kalim he knows that you are not, and yet he did make some offers and you had to gently refuse him but you did tell him that you might reconsider it.

But when the bell rings that it was 5 minutes left till classes starts, Kalim cheerfully gives you a gift box but you were also not expecting a kiss on your cheek before he runs to his classroom. And yet it confuses you but you went straight to class a blushing mess knowing that you got a kiss on the cheek.

Later on while you were alone, it was the perfect timing for you to open his gift box it was a Scarabia armband with a small jewlery necklace that really looks expensive to wear....damn rich people....and yet...

What caught your eye was also a small plushie of Kalim and Jamil....that is honestly cute.

Vil Shoenhiet

"Oh, found you, potato."

You turned your attention to Vil who found you when you were relaxing in the botanical garden staring at the leaves under the sunlight, “Hello Vil, do you need something?” You asked as he approached you, and yet he noticed that you look like a mess, and yet he noticed that you’ve been secretly crying.

“Sadly your face doesn’t match your own unique beauty.”

“My own beauty?”

Vil nodded before gently pampering your face, “Your own beauty has a smile, a sweet smile, kindness, and a caring self that you tamed almost everyone. Seeing you like this would worry others, mine included potato…” He said before gently fixing your hair, “You should consider taking care of yourself more.” And yet you can only stare at him before smiling gently and nod at his suggestion.

“A perfect reply.”

Tho you noticed that he place a gift box on your hands, “I’ll be going now, take care of yourself potato.” He said before giving your cheek a kiss before going away leaving you a blushing mess.

You remained speechless, cause not only your gift has a Pomefiore armband, but also a tiny lip balm that has a cute flavor that matches your lips.

Idia Shroud

The second you were about to exit your dorm, your eyes spotted a floating gadget right in front of you.

‘This is a delivery from Idia Shroud.’

“Idia your using auto voice text to speech again…”

“N-No I’m not….!!!”

Yeap you can tell that is Idia but….why is he not using Ortho to talk to you instead?

“What brings you here? Normally you would ask Ortho to do the talking….?”

“No… It’s not the point…. Here, just take it. And don’t tell this to others!”

And with that there tablet floats away from you, Idia was trying not to lose his embarrassing composure but…. He did it just to check up on you. You are really sure that alone is highly rare for Idia to do that. No when you open the gift there was a mini controller with a few games he recommend and a Igynihyde armband, you are going to hide that from the others….

Tho part of you wants to poke fun at Idia, but the other part of you wants to hug him.

Malleus Daconia

During the night while everyone is resting, you hope that Malleus appear out of nowhere.

Thankfully he was here and you two had a pleasant conversation, Malleus was having a good time talking to you over boring topics that he had not heard about it and yet, she does finds your voice soothing to listen to.

But…

“Tsunotaro….”

“Yes? Child of man?”

You then begin to ask Malleus about why is the Housewardens giving you gifts, it’s been five days and you see them checking up on you from time to time. Tho you also notice that Malleus is slowly mad at that, how could he missed this opportunity?! And yet….

“Is it because….I don’t deserve being…loved?”

“Don’t say that. You honestly deserve better.”

You looked at Malleus confused, “You saw how they give you something right? It is a sign that they all appreciate you, mine included. Seeing you in a sad state would make everyone worry especially me.” He said before gently holding your hand and give you a kiss on your forehead, “Please, always remember that we are here for you no matter what…” Malleus said as your eyes opened, your hands was greeted by a nice looking box.

Inside was Diasonia armband, but it was also a nice looking yarn that you were not expecting to find.

After everything that was happening….you found it strange.

You check your phone to message your group asking them about the whole gifts and what not. and Ace decided to be honest here, they asked Riddle to give a gift for a random reason. You had zero idea how insane Ace was facing against Riddle like that, Deuce was also with Ace in this, they said that you actually deserve a gift.

They all know that you have been down lately, and the best they can do was to give you a gift in hopes to cheer you up. You might hate yourself lately, but in their eyes they see you as a solace from their darkest times aka golden hour. Jack and Epel even pointed out that you also deserve gifts and they went to their Housewardens for any advice, and yet as for the others….. You can only guess.

Ace and Deuce went to Riddle to talk about a gift, Jack and Epel went to Leona and Vil about a gift advice, but the other Housewardens…. You can consider it strange, and yet….

You can feel your vision blurry….are you crying?

You can’t help but send thank you messages to them, you wanted to repay them back but they literally said no need. It feels rather magical to feel….recognized for your own efforts, even Grim gave you a canned tuna as a gift. The best you can do was hug Grim and let your tears fall out.

Was receiving their gifts worth it?

It surely was.

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revelboo · 24 days ago

Note

ngl my only exposure to vortex is secondhand stuff of him with first-aid (and even that im spotty on, cuz im not sure thats even him or if its someone else) but DAMN. HELL OF A FIRST IMPRESSION GHDSJKGMGKDSM-

He’s a sadistic interrogator for the Cons, a Combaticon, a tad bit masochistic and a lot of freak from what I know about him- I’d imagine none of the combiners are exactly okay in the head, though, Autobot or Decepticon. That the modifications necessary, the nature of the gestalt and losing your sense of self probably does some mental damage. And that Vortex may have been a bit manic and sadistic even before volunteering. Wanted to get this one done before I hit the road since it was in my head.

I Can’t Decide Pt 2

IDW Vortex x Reader

•Oh, that lovely sound of pure terror. Catching your tiny hand between two servos and pressing as you desperately try to pull free. Feels little bones shift. “Wait! I can get you more!” More? Crying out until he eases up and you yank your hand to your chest and point down at the other human. What’s left of him. “Like him. That’s what you want, right?” Such a devious little thing, offering to find him toys? To play with him?

• Still can’t look at the mess he’d made, but deep down? A part of you is glad. Knowing what he’d planned to do to you, that he’d likely have killed you after he was done, you can’t summon any sympathy for the guy. And there’s more like him, aren’t there? Aware that you’re making a deal with the devil to survive even as you look up into that luminous visor. “You’d bring me playthings knowing what I’ll do to them?” He asks, baring his denta in a grin. You’ll hate yourself for it later, but you nod. “Oh, we’re going to be such friends.” Tapping a servo against you hard enough to hurt as he laughs.

• Such a fierce little expression. You’re going to be such fun to break. Offering you his blade, he tucks the edge of his glossa against the corner of his mouth. Watches you squirm, trying to guess what he wants you to do and then reaching out and grabbing that sharp edge, wincing and hissing through your teeth as you pull your bleeding hand away. Those eyes narrowing as he lifts the blade and runs his glossa along it, shuddering slightly because you taste so much sweeter than the other human had. “Just a small taste and I can find you no matter where you try to hide,” he lies, feeling you stiffen in his hand. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

• “Of course not,” you say, fear threading through you. Not sure if this is a game you can play. Can you really bring him victims? Even if you only find the worst of humanity, the truly evil? Flinching as he leans down and drags his wet glossa from your cheek, down you neck, along your arm all the way to your bleeding palm with a noise of almost euphoric pleasure, you decide you can. Anything to not get played with like a cat with a mouse until he accidentally kills you.

• Lifting his head instead of giving in to the urge to bite, he rubs his servo against that soft, delicate throat. “Name’s Vortex. To a lovely and mutually beneficial partnership,” he coos. Because you? He’s going to enjoy you, he can tell. None of the other Combaticons share his proclivities. Knows he makes them uncomfortable with his games, that they don’t understand. But you’re so desperate he can shape you as he likes. Make you play along until he gets bored.

#transformers x reader #vortex x reader #idw vortex

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peachetteprice · 6 months ago

Text

Driving Habits | TF141

Disclaimer: Some of these are UK specific, including the style of car, manoeuvres, terminology, and gearbox. That's what happens when the boys live and work mostly in England! Also, I am almost taking my practical test in September, and I need to rant about certain habits. Sorry in advance to Soap and Ghost. Love you both, boys.

Credit to @soaps-mohawk for giving me the inspiration to explore this headcanon! It began with an exploration into what cars TF141 might drive! You can see the original post that inspired this here.

+ Including interactions when driving with an S/O!

Notorious one-handed driver. The other hand is either on the gearstick - just resting, contemplating - or mediating between the gearstick and your thigh. He loves a good reverse bay park. (He's an absolute beast at it, too. No need for minor adjustments. He just... knows the space. And he will make fun of you when you can't park as perfectly as him). Helps to get the shopping in better, because at least you can get to the boot! Has been known to swerve a little bit for birds in the road, but that's because he's an avid watcher, and the poor things get enough grief as it is - he wants to still be able to watch Robins and Thrushes in the trees on the weekend!

Captain John Price:

He does, however, neglect rabbits, foxes, badgers, squirrels, and rats. And the... occasional deer in Scotland? Not out of malice - not at all - but they're not worth swerving over and potentially causing a collision for. He might, only if you're with him - because you'll squeal if he doesn't and positively become harrowed by its body popping beneath the rear tyre - but it's much safer for a driver to simply ram it into the gravel than to mess around with the safety of himself, other drivers, and - of course - you.

Takes extra care around vehicles with stickers that denote that the occupants of said vehicle - bar the driver or secondary passengers - are animals or children. He will be extra sure to check his mirrors, touch on the brakes if need be, and will actively scan for dangerous drivers that he can shield the car from. His duty is to protect, after all, in whatever capacity.

That being said, in his youth, he was known to drive... a little faster than required. Only on country lanes does he still retain some of his more... reckless habits. He may go a touch too fast around corners, and ignore the chevrons that indicate the severity of a turn (one arrow, two, three), and if the road opens up to a sprawling range, whereby speed control for tight corners and blind junctions is not an issue, he will... perhaps... occasionally - only rarely if you're in the car with him - let her rip.

Begrudgingly drives your shuddering little Fiat 500 or itty bitty Hyundai i20 (hey, what do you mean, tiny, it's perfect for the city, John! Pay no mind if your boys giggle and point when you turn up at the base in it...), though much prefers the Triumph Spitfire, 1979, mint-condition, that he bought in 2008 for three grand and fixed up over a ten-year period (when he wasn't deployed, that was) which is now worth £18,000. That is his profit! But he won't let another soul touch it, drive it, or so much as look at it - unless it's you, on a good day - until the day he dies. It's in stunning condition, but God help you if you reverse into the driveway without him watching like a hawk, wiggling his hand as if it were the paddle of an aeroplane conductor, telling you to move closer to the wall and risk scratching your car just to protect his darling baby. It... oh no... it might be the only thing he loves more than you...

But those roads are his home, that's all!

Always, always, always over-revs the engine to get out of a junction. He can't help it! He's used to manoeuvring through rough terrain with a car the size of a military tank - he's bound to forget to treat a normal car with a normal amount of strength. He comes flying into and out of roundabouts for that exact reason! He has to get on and off them quickly enough - don't you know, they're deathtraps, they are!

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He's also prone to checking his side mirrors and rear view mirror an inordinate amount of times for a twenty-minute pop to the shop. He is convinced that the Kia Sportage behind him is right up his tail - he's sure it's stalking you in the passenger seat, especially with your bumper stickers on the rear, the nasty perverts - no matter how many times you explain to him that the mirrors are convex! They will make everything seem closer than they truly are! Now, however, he does not and will not ever brake-check a car, but he will sure as hell give them the dirtiest stare if they decide to overtake him... or until they back off a few more feet behind you.

The poor man gets impatient at lights. He does. And crossings, too. Train, tram, pedestrian, any and all of them. Despises them all. He'd rather a set of traffic lights for people to cross at, than have those silly zebra, pelican or toucan markings along the road that he has to pray Grandma Doris won't divert her walking cane in its bilateral direction. Oh, and he bounces his leg like there's no tomorrow. Again, he can't help it! He isn't used to waiting in cars. He's used to tumbling down roads in Middle Eastern deserts as the crow flies. None of those silly turns and re-routes into estates because he took the wrong turn at a junction. He wouldn't have messed up had he had time to think! Had there been no traffic! And, oh, Christ, the traffic. Simon does not like traffic. He does illegal U-turns as soon as he sniffs there being a road closure - that's how much he dislikes waiting!

You'll never forget the day that he wrenched the handbrake up way too high, and you had to get your father to re-tighten it. You're sure there aren't any more notches he can lift it to. You're rarely ever on a hill that warrants it. He'll crank it up six times just to stop at the traffic light before the Tesco. It's bloody Tesco! It's not Mount Kilimanjaro!

Never gets the bite point consistently. Never gets the damn bite point. Always too low or too high. He doesn't over-rev it like Ghost does, but the amount of times he stalls the bloody car, thinking he's in another one of those tank-sized vehicles that has a brand-spanking new bite point - or dare he say, an automatic gearbox that doesn't even require a clutch - is incalculable. You'd think the man has only just learnt to drive!

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Notoriously speeds through built-up areas. Often commits to doing 45mph in a 30mph zone. Only when there isn't anyone around, like at nighttime! He consistently zooms past speed cameras in his BMW. His poor 3L engine is just too powerful for those dinky little roads. And, promise, he doesn't do it on purpose! He just routinely forgets to glance at his speedometer (and his mirrors, but that's another issue), and he drives for himself and himself only. In fact, he often hums to himself and forgets you're even there, beside him, clutching onto the internal handle on the roof in case he veers too suddenly to either side. His object permanence doesn't prevail unless he has one hand on your inner thigh, and if he doesn't, well, you can kiss safe driving habits goodbye.

(Oh, and he always sits on the brake. And bite + gas. The handbrake is too cumbersome, and his feet are strong enough, Goddamnit!)

Alright, that isn't to say he's an... unsafe driver. He's only slightly inconsiderate. He brakes too harshly, too late, too suddenly, he coasts on the clutch around corners, he never feeds the steering wheel, and he sometimes forgets to check his mirrors before turning into a junction (but he's never T-boned a cyclist... yet... you can give him a tick for that one). But he hums and whistles a nice tune to himself - he prefers it to the radio, and that's not to say he prefers quiet so he can hear the sound of the engine, no, no... never... not at all - and he always makes an overt point to note every field of cows, sheep (especially horses!) as well as every cat he sees lurking along the pavements. Never dogs. Doesn't like the bastards. Got bit once. That was enough to turn him right off.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Beautiful driver. Test-accurate. He could re-take it today and pass with flying colours. What a brilliant driver. The only bad habit he's picked up is driving with one hand (he tends to bite his fingernails on the other when he drives - helps with the stress of commuting in London), and never feeding the steering wheel through his hands. He does the wipe-on, wipe-off manouvre, mostly because he looks hot when doing it, though he tries not to. Mama Garrick always swats his hand whenever he does it because that's how drivers get into accidents, baby!

Car-shares with his mother, whether it's in her duck-egg blue Kia Picanto or his lime green Ford Fiesta - it has failed its MOT three bloody times, and he's revived that girl from death's vice grip more times than he can count, it has the mileage of a postal worker in the 1700s, nearing 200k - but this gentleman always remembers to bring the seat forward and upright after he's finished using it, so that her feet can touch the pedals, and to, naturally, reduce her back pain. He does the same with the headrest, too, because if there's anything he cares about more than his job, it's the safety of his family and friends!

Tends to drive on the cautious side. The only minor fault he'd get in a test would be hesitance because he simply doesn't trust any other driver but himself. His mother drilled that into him. She said that there's nothing worse than watching a car flash its headlights and signal you to go, with caution, as always, because the flash is not universal for 'go', only to pull in front of you and trigger you to emergency brake. Or, God-forbid, a pedestrian puts their hand up at you before they've even crossed the bloody road, and he has to slam on the brakes like he's Speedy Gonzalez at a traffic light. Lordy Lord.

Never mind the fact that he waits too long at pedestrian crossings because there could be somebody shrouded by that tree on the corner there. Do you see it? Over there! No, behind the sign, love! There could be someone - oh, whatever. He has to wait to make sure it's clear - otherwise, Grandma Doris is getting bumped in the legs and thrown fifty feet along the road! And he cares about the elderly!

Always nervously bites the insides of his cheek at roundabouts. Which is the most bewildering part of all, because he's so good at them! He always signals onto the roundabout. Never cuts lanes. Always follows directions perfectly, and if he doesn't, well, I guess you're taking a different route until you can turn around in a safe place. He always signals off the roundabout, too - even at mini-roundabouts - but he'll scrunch his face up every time, huff, and mutter:

"Yeah... botched that one."

...Regardless of how many times you tell him that he's a gorgeous driver! It's sexy, too, how he abides by the Highway code and gives way to more cars than he really should - no, except he really should stop doing that, actually, they're starting to take advantage of his kindness and he doesn't realise it - and how he's so... so... so fucking smooth with gear transitions. Going from stationary to a comfortable 20mph? He'll pop that sucker so fluidly into third (or second, if it's his mum's car) with such prowess that you barely notice the engine take the gas he's giving it. There's no jolt between first and second. He plays those gears like he's bowing a violin. How delicate his fingers are. How gentle his touch. It's mesmerising to watch.

And, you're about ready to give him your hand in marriage when you notice that every time he comes to a stop - on a hill, at a traffic light, in crawl traffic, waiting to turn into a junction, he puts the handbrake on, then takes his foot off the foot brake, then knocks the gearstick into neutral, then takes his foot off the clutch, and waits patiently like the darling man he is. Unlike someone else, he never sits on the brake...

Gaz even brakes in ample time, and you thought he couldn't be more perfect! That's what really gets you going - he gives the car behind him just the right amount of time to slow down that it's almost a waltz, and he's the conductor of traffic. Though... maybe don't let him get trapped at a stalemate on a mini-roundabout where all cars are turning left and are subsequently blocked by the need to give way to the right... his poor brain will short-circuit! If he does, give him a pat on the thigh and let him wait for someone else to make the first move - he hates decision-making when he's off-duty.

Bonus Round - Road Rage!

Captain John Price:

Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Road Rage? You mean, showing a healthy amount of anger and vigour towards a bloody idiot driver? You mean... baring his teeth and swatting a hand at them, occasionally honking the horn past eleven-thirty, even if people are sleeping, or pulling out one of his anger-insurance cigars? That's what road rage is? Well... Christ, he must be terrible for it. Don't tell his boys that... they think he's the most level-headed man on base.

He's slightly oblivious to the technique of cars around him. He drives like he's the only driver in the world, because usually he is - except for those fuckers behind you who won't back off - but if something does happen, and if it isn't too much of an issue, he'll grunt, clench his teeth, grip the steering wheel and let out a muttered 'bastard'. If, however, something really irritates him - especially if another car puts you in danger - he'll honk the horn and flail his hand at the windscreen in the hopes that the driver sees his frustration (even if you're the one driving, he'll reach over and honk the pad for you, even though you've told him not to!)

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish:

Well... he certainly knows a lot of Gaelic, doesn't he, your boy? You've hardly a monkey's bottom of what he's saying, but the vitriol in which he says it - he's not known for bottling his anger very well - makes it clear to you that he needs a hug and de-tox before bedtime. If the accused does anything on the defensive or antagonistic, he has been known to pull up beside them on a two-lanes-go-straight-on road marking, even if it isn't the right way to your destination, just to glare at them and give them the... stern finger. Maybe... maybe a word or two about precious cargo.

Sergeant Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Gaz is a simple guy when he's off-duty. He will sigh, tut, shake his head, and mumble 'nutter', or a very hushed 'oh, you absolute...' (bonus: he never finishes his sentence!) It's what his mum does! If another car puts you in danger, he may groan and roll his eyes - but he always asks if you're okay as soon as, and apologises for the sudden violence of his attitude! What a sweet man.

| Masterlist |

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randomcreator-09 · 3 months ago

Text

I'll Fold Like the Makahiya Leaves (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

This gif makes me go feral 👹👹👹

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>>MINORS DNI<<<

✨NSFW [Mention/Scene of cheating (Not Tommy), p n v, Unprotected (Wrap it before you Tap it *wink), Oral (both), Language], Thomas "gentleman" Shelby, You one rich bish (Daughter of a duke), and mention of death✨

🐧Hello!!!~ I have exams so I tried finishing this before I can go study my ars off. Also got 8 vaccinations in one go :"D so if you don't hear from me after this month I'm dead XD HAHAAHA Kidding I wont die... becuase I have more than one personality in me >:D. Also this may be a BIT long :”D BUT its a lovely story I swear :”3 sorry heh… for those who don't know what Makahiya Leaf (Humble Plant) is... Its this🐧

Anyways :3 have fun reading ^^

-----(Before the War, City of Bermingham)

The streets of Birmingham always seemed to move a little slower when you passed through. You’d see the familiar faces, offering them polite smiles and small nods from your carriage window, though your mind was always somewhere else. Your father taught you well—manners, grace, independence—but you never felt quite like the lady everyone saw.

Your father, the Duke, made sure to hire the best-of-bests to teach you everything, Literature, Combat, and Cooking. You were the best at everything as well, although your preferred cooking to which your father gifted you a restaurant of your own on your eighteenth birthday (which you managed perfectly).

At times like this when you'd be looking out the window, you’d often catch sight of Thomas Shelby, the man you secretly adored from afar, standing near his betting shop. His eyes would meet yours for the briefest of moments before he nodded in acknowledgement. It was strange, the way your lives always seemed to brush against each other but never really connected. Your father knew the Shelbys, business of course, but his feelings toward them were mixed. He respected Thomas’s sharp mind, but he didn’t want you getting too close to a man from a family like that. Especially since you were the only thing his wife left him after passing away, he was not risking it.

Not that it mattered at the time. You were, after all, engaged to Billy Kimber, a man of status, a man your father approved of.

"You have arrived Miss" your driver shouted from the outside as your footman opened the door.

"Thank you, Mister" as you jumped out of the carriage to your fiance's house.

You planned to surprise him by visiting him. Bringing along with you the pasta you cooked especially for him. With a small smile, you went forward not knowing that this was where your life would fall apart. Going in you'd see a mess was made in the living room, the maids looked at you a worry as if they warned you not to go upstairs. You slowly go up to see clothes scattered around the staircase and panic ensues in your mind. Finding his room, you slowly open the door a little to only discover Billy entangled with a woman—with your closest friend, no less. The betrayal cut deep, and you didn’t know what to do with the pain. You slowly closed the door as you went downstairs. Billy's groans and your friend imprinted on your mind like torture, you gave one of the maids the pasta and left.

-----

Calling off the wedding, your father cut all connections with Billy. Highly disappointed with his actions as he comforted you. You cried all week, eyes swollen in tears as you curled up to your knees on your bed. You just loved him too much it hurt.

After weeks of torture and isolating yourself. You hear from the maids that a war was in the midst. A sudden idea comes to your mind, as you ran to your father's office. The pain and torture of the memory bruising your kind heart, bringing you to a decision that only made sense at the time—you volunteered for the war effort, not as a soldier, but in a position that still gave you purpose: a culinary officer overseeing the mess halls (an Admin is what your father pushes you to do, but he made his connections make sure you cook too becuase your were very adamant about it).

Your father had connections in the war. Giving you that choice to be in war but not on the field, but still do the thing you loved the most. You buried your heartbreak in the work, letting the chaos of war drown out the memories.

-----(During the War, Meeting Thomas Shelby)

The clang of pots, the smell of food cooking, and the steady rhythm of military life became your new normal. You found comfort in the kitchen, in the work. It was easier to focus on meal preparations, and managing the chefs and budgets than to think about everything else you’d lost. Over time, the carefree, kind girl you used to be slipped away. You became mature, more efficient, and more respected. But there was still a part of you that missed who you had been.

As the day passed by, normal as it may be, you supervised the mess hall as the staff served soldier after soldier. As you passed by the back to oversee the service, a loud bang shattered across the room.

"Danny! Calm down!" A man with blue eyes exclaimed as he tried to pin the bigger man down he flipped all the tables and screamed which echoed through the halls.

You ran out the back of the kitchen and helped the other man, successfully pinning him down to the floor.

"You're alright! Danny!," you spoke in a calm tone to Dannys' ears as he continued heaving. You patted his back and talked him out of his oblivion.

"Wars outside Danny, you're in the mess hall, you're safe here," you whispered as his breathing slowly normalized.

The man with blue eyes looked over you in suprise, as he lifted Danny off the floor who was now apologizing. You said it was alright as you commanded the staff to clean his mess. You knew what the war did to people and this was almost an everyday occurrence in the mess hall.

As nurses escorted Danny out of the mess hall, the man with blue eyes approached you and spoke, "Sorry bout that, Ms. Y/L."

You then turned around to look at him and were surprised to see Thomas Shelby, how could you have missed that? "Mr. Shelby? You serve in the war?" was the only thought in your mind as he stared at you with his icy blue eyes. He nodded, "and you... manage the mess hall," he said with a small smile, you nodded.

This was the only time you two conversed fully, You've always wondered how'd he sound like, your father never really wanted you to approach him so he usually just greets you by tapping his hat and that's that.

However, after this day, Thomas Shelby started appearing in the kitchen almost every day. At first, it was just a glance as he passed by, greeting you as he walked by with his brothers who were smiling at you. But soon, he was offering his help—carrying supplies and staying after meals to clean up. You didn’t question it at first (since every other soldier would do the same, even his brothers), his presence was different, warm to be exact despite this cold war going on. You’d exchange a few words, small talk about the war, but nothing too personal. Yet, there was a quiet understanding between you. You both knew what it was like to feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and soon conversations ran deeper. To you explaining about your mother's passing, to him exchanging the information on how his father left their mother. It felt really warm having him at this times.

------

One evening, as you finished overseeing the evening’s meal preparations, you felt him watching you again. You kept your eyes on the work, your hands steady as you diced vegetables. “You’ve got a habit of being in places you don’t belong,” you remarked, not looking up but knowing he was there.

“And you’ve got a habit of working to the bone, love.” he replied, his voice low but teasing.

You finally looked at him, meeting his eyes. “It’s better than thinking about what’s out there.” you placed the knife down and sat on the edge of the desk.

Thomas nodded, his gaze softening. “I could say the same.” approaching you as he took another pair of knives out, "Mind if I help?" he picked up a potato as he looked at you waiting for your permission.

You shook your head and smiled at him before taking the potato out of his hand, "It's alright, I don't want you hurting yourself like last time." Pointing at his injured fingers.

He chuckles as he places his hands deep in his pocket. "I'll just accompany you then," as he leaned on the desk watching you skillfully slice the vegetables, he was in awe at how your delicate hands seemed so soft even after so long.

He stood there in silence for a while, and then, Arthur and John stepped in, laughter spilling from their lips as they approached.

“Look who it is ey?! The lady chef! Our dear Ms. Y/L” John called out, a teasing lilt in his voice, as he held your hand and kissed it softly. “You’ll be cooking for our wedding feast soon!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “You’ll have to find someone to marry first, John.”

Arthur chimed in, grinning widely. “I’m sure if you keep cooking like this, y/n, you’ll have all the men lining up for you.” his strong accent apparent as he spoke.

“Better watch out, Tommy,” Arthur said, glancing back at Thomas with a smirk. “I think you might have competition.” pointing his chin out the window with other men peeping at her. They then quickly hid as Arthur pointed at them, like mice seeing a big scary cat.

You caught Thomas's eye for a moment, and he raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused (annoyed?). “I think you’re the one who should be worried,” he replied dryly, nodding in your direction. “With her cooking, she’ll have any man she wants.” as he looked down, definitely not liking the attention you're getting from other men.

John leaned in closer, a playful glint in his eye. “How about we place a little wager, then ey? I bet you’ll fall for her before the war’s over.”

“What? Me?” Thomas replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. “You’re fucking out of your mind.” chuckling a bit nervously.

“Oh, come on!” John insisted, nudging Thomas playfully. “I’ll bet you a fiver you'll be chasing for her soon. She’s got that way about her, you know?” winking at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “I doubt Thomas would ever fold for someone like me," chuckling before contintuing, "but I'm in.” patting the bag of coins in your dress pocket.

Arthur smiled, leaning against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. “What do you say, Tommy?” John pressed, his excitement growing. “Ten Quids? Just for fun.”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “I’m n't part of this ridiculous bet. I have better things to do.”

“Yeah, like how to not smile at our lovely chef here,” John joked, causing you to blush slightly as you shook your head.

Thomas pushed his brother out, apologising to you, as the two brothers walked walked away, you felt a mix of embarrassment and amusement. The Shelby brothers were relentless, but there was something warm and comforting about their banter. It reminded you of the camaraderie you had lost.

You looked back at Thomas, who seemed to have softened a bit, as he walked towards you once again. “Don’t let them get to you,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood. “They tease because they care.”

He shrugged a flicker of appreciation in his gaze. “They’re n't wrong, though. You've got talent keeping us lot well-fed.” staring at the men outside the window as they ran away. You laughed at that.

“Only as long as you’re not causing too much trouble outside,” you replied, the smile breaking through his cold exterior.

His gaze lingered a moment longer, and you felt something shift in the air, but you were still worlds apart, separated by unspoken words and hidden emotions.

-----

As days passed, Thomas was asked to serve on the field again, but just before he left for the front lines, he did something you didn’t expect.

As he walked through the back kitchen with his hat in hand, he looked at you with concern, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “I don’t usually say things like this,” he began. “But I’ve had my eye on you long before this war.”

Your heart dropped. You didn't expect that Thomas Michael Shelby would have rendered feelings for you. However, you were not ready, not yet, not after the heartbreak you’d been through. “Tommy, I…” you stuttered, fidgeting your fingers behind as you looked him straight in the eye. Tears almost flow to your eyes.

“I know,” he interrupted gently. “I know about what happened with Billy.” As he walked towards you, closing the remaining distance, but making sure there was still space for comfort.

The mention of Billy made your chest tighten, and you looked away. “I'm sorry Tommy, I can’t, not yet. Not after everything…”

He nodded, walking forward a bit more as he kept his eyes on you. “I understand.” As he placed his warm lips on your forehead as you inhaled. You kept your eyes closed as you heard his footsteps go further, opening only when you heard it no more and with that, he was gone.

You sighed as you scolded your heart for not taking such a kind man in your life, but you were hurt, your heart still had that scar. Inhaling the crisp air of the kitchen, trying not to break down and cry, you turned and continued cooking. Thoughts spiralling through your mind.

-----

You exchanged letters after that, brief notes of friendship and support, what you both needed at the time. However, one day, you received a different letter. You opened it knowing it was from your father, Colored crimson red just like how your father loved, you opened it with delight.

Dear Ms. Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, despite the circumstances surrounding it. It is with profound sadness that I must inform you of your father’s passing. The Duke departed this life earlier this week, leaving behind a legacy that has touched many.

In light of these events, it is imperative that you return home immediately. There are important matters to discuss regarding the estate and your father’s wishes, and I believe it is crucial for you to be present for these conversations.

Please take the necessary steps to join us as soon as possible. Your presence is vital.

Yours sincerely,

Lord Benedict Hargrove

Solicitor to the Duke’s Estate

Tears balled down your cheeks.

You were alone now, you thought. Without your father's power you were now a nobody. This was the least of your care to he honest, you wanted to go home for one last time.

------

With this, you were excused from your duties to attend the succession meeting with your father's connecting family (people you've never met). Leaving the war to go home.

Your father left you a hefty sum of money (possibly all his wealth) and the business he gifted you on your eighteenth birthday. Your relatives scoffed at you for this as they only got material things he owned (which also caused so much). Greedy people, you thought, they never even visited your father before he died and now they're here taking his money. The title was not given to you though, it was given to your male cousin (who was only thirteen). That was fine, you didn't even need the money from him because you had your own, you needed him but that was impossible even with all the money in the world.

-----(After war)

As the dust of war settled and the world slowly began to stitch itself back together, you found yourself in a position you had never anticipated. With the title of Duke passing to your younger cousin, you embraced your independence, leaning into the fortune your father had left you. Your father’s birthday restaurant—your pride and joy—became a symbol of resilience, not only for you but for the entire community.

Determined to build a legacy that would make your father proud, you transformed the establishment into a hub for soldiers returning home, providing meals and solace after the chaos of war. Word spread quickly about the new culinary wonder in Birmingham, and soon your name became synonymous with quality and innovation in the restaurant business. You took risks, introducing bold flavours and dishes that spoke of both tradition and your flair, quickly gaining a loyal clientele that appreciated your artistry.

In a time when women were often relegated to the shadows of men, you stood firm, a woman at the helm of your empire. Your determination and skill earned you respect, not just among the patrons but also from your peers in the industry. You refused to be overshadowed by the legacy of your father or the titles of your male relatives. Instead, you carved your path, proving that you were more than capable of handling the business and the challenges it brought.

Despite the accolades and success, a part of you felt incomplete. You often found yourself gazing out the window of your restaurant, lost in thought, wondering where Tommy went, it has been a year since his last letter. His absence weighed heavily on you, each passing day filled with uncertainty. Did he think of you? Did he know about your father’s passing? Is he... alive? Questions lingered, unanswered, like shadows at the edges of your heart.

-----

The pub was quieter than usual that evening. You stood behind the bar, wiping down a glass as your mind drifted. Life after the war had changed you. You had returned to Birmingham, but you weren’t the same woman who had left. The kindness, the sweetness—you didn’t let it show anymore. People respected you, maybe even feared you, but they didn’t know you. Not anymore.

You bought a pub close to the Shelby business (Sold to you at a lower price due to your name being famous in Bermingham). You didn’t buy it for any sentimental reason. You didn’t expect to ever see Thomas again (although your heart strings it). You convinced yourself he was gone, just like so many others who never returned.

And then, the door creaked open.

At first, you didn’t look up. You were too busy with your thoughts, too used to the routine of tending the bar. But when the room fell silent and some men left, you felt it—a shift in the air. Slowly, you raised your head, and there he was. Thomas Shelby, alive and standing in the doorway, looking very much like a ghost from your past.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You just stared, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Tom-Tommy? Y-You’re alive,” you finally whispered, the words catching in your throat.

“I am,” Thomas replied, his voice calm but heavy with something you couldn’t quite name. Guilt, maybe. Regret. “I’m sorry for disappearing…” as he slowly approached you, hands squeezing his Garrison cap.

“Sorry?” You set the glass down with a thud, your hands trembling. “I thought you were dead, Thomas! For a whole year, I thought—” You stopped, choking on your own words. “Why didn’t you come back? Write a letter or something???”

Thomas stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I didn’t know how. After everything, I wasn’t sure…”

His words broke something inside you. All the emotions you’d been holding back came rushing to the surface, and before you knew it, you were crying—crying. “You left me!” you screamed, the words torn from deep within you. “You left me for months!” as you backed off the counter and flaunted to the cabinet wall.

Without a word, Thomas walks into the bar closing the distance between you, pulling you into his arms (Your customers leaving). You tried to push him away at first, beating your fists against his chest, but he held you tighter, his voice low and soothing. “I’m here now… I’m here.”

You collapsed into him, letting the tears come as he held you close. The world outside didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that he was here, and you weren’t alone anymore.

-----(Everyone left the pub, leaving you and Tommy)

Later that night, you sat at a small table in the corner of the pub, the firelight flickering around you. The warmth from the hearth contrasted sharply with the coldness you had felt all year. You and Thomas exchanged glances, words unspoken hanging heavy in the air between you.

He shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair, the weight of unvoiced confessions lingering between you. “You’re different,” he said finally, his gaze intense. “Stronger. I admire that.”

You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath, the compliment washing over you. “I had to be,” you replied softly. “After everything…”

The room fell silent again, and you felt the vulnerability creeping in. “I thought you’d forgotten about me,” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes. “After you disappeared, I thought—”

“I could never forget you,” he said, his tone firm. “Not a single day passed without you on my mind. I tried to shove it away, but the thought of you being hurt… it haunted me, it did.”

His confession hung between you like a delicate thread, fragile yet binding. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, the spark of something familiar igniting between you. “and yet you left, but I understand now,” you said, the emotion spilling over (he explained that he had to be admitted to the hospital after receiving a life-threatening wound, putting him in a coma for months and weak for the rest. A reasonable reason for you to forgive him like lightning). “Although, I thought I could never forgive you.” sighing in relief.

“And now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, a smile slowly tugging his lips.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything you’d been through. “I-I missed you. Admittedly.” before pausing to look at him. "I missed you, most ardently,"

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Then, out of nowhere, he said, “Then marry me.”

You blinked, sure you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”

“Marry me,” Thomas repeated, more sure this time. “I don’t want to waste any more time,” as he stands to walk closer to you.

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You had imagined this moment in so many ways, but not like this. You stood up with him as you looked into his eyes, and realized that you didn’t need time. You had known my answer all along.

“Yes,” You whispered, voice barely audible. “I’ll marry you, but you promise this time? No disappearing?”

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes shining with sincerity. “I promise. No more running. I’ll fight for you.”

As he placed his hand on your waist with a knowing smile plastered on his face he grinned, pure happiness lighting up his face as he embraced you, lifting you off your feet in a whirlwind of joy. “I’ll make you the happiest woman in Birmingham,” he promised, his voice warm against your ear.

As he set you back down, breaths heaving from the joy you both shared, he placed his left hand on your cheek, gently caressing it. With his icy blue eyes locked onto your lips, he whispered, “May I?”

You nodded, but instead of waiting for him to make the first move, you pulled him closer by his collar, kissing him softly. The deep groan that escaped him sent a thrill through you as he tightened his grip around your waist with his right hand, while his left hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the connection.

The kiss was tender yet electric, answering the questions that had lingered in your mind for so long. He missed you, loved you, and that was all you needed. You pressed your forehead against his, feeling the warmth radiating between you.

With a surge of emotion, you kissed him again, this time more passionately, as if trying to pour all the lost time and unspoken words into that moment. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, tangled in each other’s arms, lost in a whirlwind of feelings that had been building for far too long.

------

He groaned, and you held onto his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as the kiss deepened, the world outside fading away. Good thing the pub was closed because, within moments, you found yourselves on the floor, completely lost in each other, breathless and exposed.

“Fuck, you feel so good, dear,” he moaned, his voice rough and filled with desire as he began to thrust in and out of you. His movements were slow yet deliberate, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, each thrust eliciting heavy moans from your lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, craving more of him. Every inch of your body pressed together ignited a fire within you, each thrust igniting a deeper longing. His hands explored your curves, fingers grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you met each thrust with your own rhythm.

“Thomas,” you gasped, your head thrown back as the pleasure built, eyes meeting his fiery gaze. There was something primal in his expression, a raw need that matched your own.

He captured your lips again, the kiss becoming a desperate dance of tongues and breaths, a promise of everything you both wanted. With each thrust, he drove you closer to the edge, your body responding to his every move as if it were a well-rehearsed melody.

“I’ve missed… missed you, y/n,” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and ragged. The weight of those words sank deep into your heart, and you pulled him closer as if the closeness could bridge the gap that time and circumstance had created.

With every thrust, the heat between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. You could feel the pressure building deep within you, a coil wound tight, ready to snap.

“Thomas, I—” you gasped, unable to form complete thoughts as pleasure coursed through your veins. Your body responded instinctively, tightening around him, and with a final thrust, you were sent spiralling into bliss, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

“Yes, Y/n cum. Cum for me darling, I-fuck” Thomas softly groaned, feeling the way your body clenched around him, drawing him deeper into your warmth. He didn’t stop; he kept thrusting, wanting to prolong the pleasure that enveloped you both. Each movement sent another pulse of ecstasy through you, pushing you to heights you didn’t know existed.

“Please, Tommy” you whimpered, overwhelmed by the sensations, your body teetering on the edge once more. The overstimulation was almost too much, but you craved it, craved him. “I can’t… too much…”

“Just a little more, love,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry, completely lost in the rhythm of your bodies. He thrust harder, deeper, chasing his release, wanting to see you unravel beneath him again.

With a series of slow, deliberate thrusts, you felt the familiar rush build once more. The world around you blurred as you scratched his back. “Thomas!” you cried out, arching your back as the second orgasm hit, sending stars dancing, moaning as you looked straight into his icy blue eyes.

“Y/N!” he gasped, feeling the way you tightened around him again, the sight of you unravelling beneath him igniting a fire within him. He couldn’t hold back any longer, thrusting into you a few more times before he finally reached his climax, spilling himself on your stomach with a low groan.

The room fell silent, save for your heavy breathing as you both heaved from the intensity of what just happened. Thomas slowly withdrew, catching his breath, and a satisfied smile crept onto his lips as he looked down at you, flushed and blissed out.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your forehead before rising to clean himself up. You watched as he retrieved a cloth and gently wiped away the remnants of your passion from your skin, careful and tender.

“Thank you,” you whispered, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

He returned to you, covering you with his big coat, the fabric enveloping you in warmth. You nestled against him, both of you laughing softly, the moment feeling almost surreal. You just did it on the floor.

“Quite the way to celebrate our reunion, eh?” he teased, his voice light, yet there was an underlying tenderness in his gaze.

“Definitely not what I expected,” you replied, your laughter echoing in the empty pub.

As you both settled into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the coat and each other enveloping you, the world outside faded away.

-----(Watery Lane)

The next morning, Thomas took you to meet the family. Arthur and John were already waiting when you two arrived, grinning like they’d just won a bet.

“Told ya she’d come around,” John said, elbowing Arthur. “Just took Tommy long enough.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you reached into my pocket and pulled out a small pouch of coins. “Here,” you said with a smile. “Your winnings.”

John chuckled as he pocketed the money, while Arthur grinned at you like you were already part of the family.

Polly watched you from her seat by the fire, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. After a long pause, she spoke. “You’ve got the backbone for this family,” she said looking deep into your eyes as she sighed. “You’ll do just fine,” Polly said approvingly. “You’ve got the strength to keep up with this lot.” puffing another hit on her cigar.

You smiled, feeling, for the first time in a long while, like you were exactly where you were meant to be. Felt like home.

-----(Married to Tommy <3)

Being married to Thomas Shelby meant more than just sharing vows; it meant a newfound power in Birmingham. There was an unspoken fear that rippled through the streets whenever his name was mentioned, and you could feel it. People admired you, not just because of your accomplishments, but because they understood the weight that came with being Mrs. Shelby. Thomas intended to keep you safe, to wrap you in a cocoon of protection that no one dared to breach. The knowledge that no one would dare hurt you, not with him at your side, filled you with a sense of security you had never known before.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you prepared for Thomas’s return home. You had spent the day tending to the pub, the laughter and chatter of patrons ringing in your ears, but nothing compared to the excitement of having him back in your arms. The warmth of his presence was something you longed for, something that made your heart race just thinking about it.

The door creaked open to your shared home, and there he was—Thomas Michael Shelby, rugged and handsome, the familiar twinkle in his eyes igniting a spark within you. You walked to him, unable to contain your smile as you flung your arms around his neck. “Welcome home, my husband” you whispered, your heart swelling at the sight of him.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you felt the world outside fade away. “I missed you, my wife” he murmured against your hair, his breath warm and comforting. Without hesitation, you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a soft yet passionate kiss. The moment felt electric, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the weight of the day slip away. Thomas’s hands moved to your waist, drawing you closer as if he wanted to meld your bodies into one. You lost yourself in him, the world around you disappearing until it was just the two of you—lost in your universe.

Your heart raced as you pulled back, searching his eyes. There was a hunger there, an undeniable connection that only deepened with each stolen moment you shared. In that instant, you knew that this was where you belonged, wrapped in his arms, feeling utterly cherished.

Thomas leaned in again, this time capturing your lips with more urgency. His kiss was fervent, igniting a fire within you that made your breath hitch. The taste of him lingered on your lips, sweet and intoxicating, and you could feel the pull between you, a magnetic force drawing you ever closer.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his breath heavy. “Let’s not waste any more time,” he said, his voice low and filled with desire as he swept you off your feet. You gasped, both of you laughing softly, placing soft kisses on his neck as he walked up the stairs.

"Oh dear Tommy, I'll always fold like a Makahiya Leaf for you no?" chuckling as you licked his ear eliciting a deep groan from him.

"No worries y/n, I'll wait till you open again like, I always do" as he kicks the door close. As he laid you gently on the bed, the air between you crackled with anticipation. He kissed you as his hands pulled your nightgown up and your hands unbuttoned his vest and polo, leaving both of you naked in minutes (With Thomas in his trousers).

Thomas’s eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you beneath him, the soft glow of the setting sun illuminating your features. You felt your pulse quicken as he leaned down, his breath warm against your skin.

“Just relax, love,” he murmured his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down your spine. He started trailing soft kisses along your collarbone, his lips warm and teasing, igniting every nerve in your body. Each kiss made you arch into him, craving more of his touch.

“Tommy,” you gasped, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him to continue. He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you, and continued his descent, his mouth leaving a trail of heat along your skin.

His kisses travelled lower, savouring every inch of you. As he reached the hem of your dress, he hesitated for just a moment, locking eyes with you, seeking permission. You nodded, breathless with anticipation, and he wasted no time in lifting the fabric, exposing your bare skin to him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes roaming over you as if you were a work of art. With a slow, deliberate motion, he kissed your thighs, igniting a fire within you. You squirmed beneath his touch, the sensation of his lips brushing against your skin almost too much to bear.

“Please, Tommy,” you pleaded, your voice thick with desire. He looked up at you, a wicked grin spreading across his face, before diving in, his mouth exploring you with a fervor that made your back arch off the bed.

His tongue worked magic, teasing and exploring, eliciting gasps and moans that filled the room. You held onto the sheets, desperately trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in this intoxicating moment.

“Just like that, love,” he encouraged, his voice muffled against you, and you felt your body respond, tightening around the pleasure he was giving you. He continued to work his magic, his movements expertly bringing you closer to the edge, the tension building deep within you.

As your breath hitched, you could feel the pressure mounting, a delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter until you felt as if you might break. “I’m going to—” you gasped, unable to finish your thought before he intensified his efforts, bringing you over the edge into a blissful climax.

Your body trembled as you rode the waves of ecstasy, calling his name, your fingers digging into his hair as the world around you spun. He didn’t stop, though; he continued to savor you, prolonging your pleasure as the overstimulation sent you spiraling once more.

“Tommy, please,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations, but he only increased the fervor, his mouth working tirelessly. Your body responded, the waves crashing over you again, igniting every nerve ending until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

With a final surge of pleasure, you let go, your second orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Both of you lay there, breathless and entangled in each other, the world outside forgotten. Thomas gently kissed your forehead, his clean fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin as you came down from the high of your shared passion.

He finally pulled back, just enough to meet your gaze. “You alright, love?” he asked, concern lacing his voice, but the smirk on his lips hinted at his satisfaction.

“More than alright,” you replied, a grin breaking across your face as you snuggled into him.

After a moment, he got up to clean up, his movements effortless and casual. You watched him, feeling a warmth swell in your chest. When he returned, he draped a big coat over you, wrapping you in warmth and comfort.

“Ready for round two?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief as you laughed, the sound echoing in the cozy room.

“This is going to be a long night,” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shifted beneath the warm coat. You could feel the remnants of passion coursing through you, and the sight of Thomas’s relaxed, satisfied posture ignited something within you.

With a playful grin, you pushed him back onto the bed, surprising him. His eyes widened, a mix of curiosity and amusement flashing across his face. “Oh? What’s this, then?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Just returning the favor,” you said with a smirk, your confidence surging as you climbed over him, straddling his hips. His breath caught in his throat, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

As you pulled back, you let your hands roam down his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. “I think it’s time I take care of you, Mr. Shelby,” you whispered, your voice sultry and inviting. You could see his surprise morph into a pleased grin, and he nodded, a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

You began trailing kisses down his neck, your lips brushing against his skin, eliciting soft gasps from him. The thrill of being in control sent a rush of adrenaline through you. With each kiss, you worked your way lower, taking your time to explore him, to tease and tantalize.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed, his hands instinctively gripping the sheets as you continued your journey. You could feel the tension building in him, and it fueled your desire to push him further. When you reached the waistband of his trousers, you paused, looking up at him with a playful smile.

“Do you trust me?” you asked, your voice a low murmur. He met your gaze, his icy blue eyes darkening with hunger as he nodded. “Always.”

You leaned down, slowly unbuttoning his trousers, your fingers brushing against his skin. The moment you freed him, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse in your grasp. You looked up at him, a wicked smile playing on your lips, before taking him into your mouth.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure, and you felt a surge of satisfaction at the sound. You began to move your mouth in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, taking your time to savor him. Each flick of your tongue drew deep moans from him, and you reveled in the power you held.

“God, you feel so good,” he gasped, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you gently. You picked up the pace, your mouth working him with a fervor that sent shivers through both of you. The sounds he made only spurred you on, pushing you to explore him further.

As you lost yourself in the pleasure of the moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, intertwined in this blissful dance. You could feel the tension building within him, and it ignited a fire deep inside you.

“Don’t stop,” he urged, his voice strained, and you obliged, wanting to bring him to the brink. You intensified your movements, your mouth and hands working in perfect harmony as you brought him closer and closer.

With a few final strokes of your tongue, you could feel him tremble beneath you, his breath hitching as he neared his peak. “I’m close,” he warned, his voice thick with need, and you took that as your cue to give it your all.

With one final push, you enveloped him completely, taking him to the edge before he finally released, his moans filling the room as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, feeling victorious as you pulled back to meet his gaze.

Thomas lay there, panting, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you with a mix of admiration and desire. “You’re unbelievable,” he breathed, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Just doing my part,” you teased, wiping your mouth playfully before leaning in to kiss him again, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

You settled beside him, feeling utterly satisfied and connected. “What do you say we continue this long night?” you suggested, a playful sparkle in your eye.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “I think I could be convinced.”

With that, the night was filled with love and sense of comfort. Thomas Shelby was all you needed. A man who could wait for a Makahiya Leave open once more and shower her with all his love.

Indeed, he was all you needed.

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🐧Edited on October 13, 2024. I learned the thingy for Unprotected bed scenes... Which was "Wrap it before you Tap it" learned it from the comments XD thank you ^^ hope ya'll enjoyed it btw🐧

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