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runnning-outof-time · 10 months ago

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I’ll Be Home For Christmas | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - written for @pacifymebby ‘s 2k Follower/Christmas Celebration

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy promises (Y/N) that he’ll be home for his family’s first Christmas in Arrow House. (Y/N)’s hoping it won’t only happen in her dreams.

Warnings: none - just some Christmas fluff

Word Count: 2223

A/N: Congrats on 2K, Layla! I went with the song ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ … I listened to Brett Eldredge’s version of it and came up with this idea. I hope you like it. And it’s fitting that this is being posted on Christmas Eve, right? Sorry for cutting it close. Happy Holidays to all! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one

(Y/N) sat back on the chaise lounge with a sigh. She bit on her bottom lip as she held the reciever up to her ear.

“Are you still there?” came from the other line.

“I am,” was what she was able to get out before she choked on her words, fingertips pressed against her lips as she tried her damnedest to hold back tears.

“Tell me what’s wrong, love.” Even miles away and through a phone call, Tommy was still able to read his wife like an open book.

There was a moment of silence before she responded. In that time, (Y/N) was trying to decide whether she wanted to make her plights known or not. On one hand, he was her husband; the person who she was supposed to disclose these sorts of problems to. On the other, she didn’t want to add another problem onto his probably already full plate.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy’s voice cut through her internal debate, bringing her back to the conversation.

“When will you be home, Tommy?” she decided to come right out and ask.

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” he assured her within seconds of her making her worry known.

“But…but Christmas is tomorrow,” she stammered out, wracking her mind to try and figure out if his homecoming was even possible, “where even are you right now?”

“I’m in London, and I know it’s tomorrow. I’ll be home,” he assured her once more.

“It’s our first Christmas in this new house,” she said as she looked around the reading room that she’d decorated to her particular taste. The manor was beautiful, but it felt so empty when Tommy was away. “The kids had the best time decorating the tree,” she added, a smile gracing her face as she thought back to the time she spent with her three children earlier in the week. A time that Tommy had missed out on.

“That’s good to hear,” Tommy smiled as he closed his eyes and pictured his three young children gathered around the large tree in the living room. He never had a chance to make a memory like it when he was younger. The fact that he wasn’t present for his children at this time felt like a stab to the heart.

(Y/N)’s smile faltered as the thing that had been eating her alive from the moment her husband’s car pulled out of the driveway returned to the forefront of her mind. “I can’t have you gone much longer, Tommy,” she finally spoke, deciding to come out with her thoughts rather than keep them in.

“I won’t be, darling,” he assured her.

“When will these business trips end?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he sighed as he ran a hand over his face.

“Yes you do. You’re the head of the company,” she insisted, a tinge of desperation seeping into her words.

“They’re part of the job.”

“They’re taking away time from our family.”

Silence rang on the line after (Y/N)’s declaration. She was no longer able to hold back the tears, letting them silently slip down her cheeks as she tried to keep the front that everything was fine on her end of the conversation.

“I’ll be home for Christmas, (Y/N),” Tommy was the one to break the silence after a few moments had passed.

(Y/N) swiped away her tears and nodded even though he wasn’t able to see her. “Ok, Tommy,” she agreed, even though she knew that it would most likely be a moot promise.

“I have to go,” he told her then.

“Ok,” she nodded once more, “I love you.”

“I love you. Give the kids a kiss for me.”

“I will.”

The line went dead after she told him she would. (Y/N) hung the phone up and let out a shuddered sigh. She looked at the garland lined mantle for a minute before closing her eyes and silently hoping that Tommy’s promise would come true this time around.

The sentence “mumma, wake up!” graced (Y/N)’s ears at the beautiful hour of seven o’clock the next morning. The feeling of three, small bodies bouncing on the bed soon accompanied it, making the woman finally open her eyes.

She was reluctant to at first because she knew that doing so would bring her beautiful dream of sitting by Tommy while watching the kids play with their presents to an end. The sight of the empty spot next to her in bed still hit her like a ton of bricks even though she was prepared for it. She couldn’t dwell on it though, because the kids’ excitement increased tenfold the second they saw her eyes open.

“Let’s go downstairs!” Charlotte, the oldest of the three, declared as she hurried to get off of the bed and make her way to the door. Max and Henry - twins who were two years younger than Charlotte, quickly followed their sister, their excitement practically palpable.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile as she tossed the covers to the side and moved over to where her robe was hung on the dressing screen. She took the same path as her children once the cozy garment was tied tightly against her frame.

The children were already rooting around the gifts that were placed under the tree, trying to find the ones that had their names on it. (Y/N) smiled as she made her way over to the couch and sat down on it. A tinge of sadness crept up on her before she could stop it. Tommy should be here, she thought to herself as the children went about unwrapping their presents.

Tommy’s words from the previous evening then echoed in her mind: “I’ll be home for Christmas”. She wanted to badly to believe that and think nothing else. But that sadness still loomed.

The children were excited to have their mum unwrap the presents that they made for her once they were finished opening theirs, and (Y/N) was able to push the sadness away as she beamed at the thoughtful, homemade gifts they’d given her.

The gloomy feelings came back when the kids went back to playing with their toys and she was left alone on the couch once more. An even larger wave washed over her when she noticed the unopened presents that still sat under the tree. One of the tags was facing upwards, and the name ‘DAD’ was written on it in Charlotte’s unmistakeable hand.

“I’ll be home for Christmas,” Tommy’s words rang in her mind again. She sighed and hugged her robe tighter to her body before looking over to the clock. Only in my dreams, she thought as she tried to focus back on the kids.

(Y/N) and the children ate a wonderful breakfast before the three young ones quickly dragged her back into the front room so that they could continue playing. She’d just gotten comfortable under the blanket when the sound of tires on gravel was heard outside. It made her eyebrows furrow. The family wasn’t supposed to come over until later, she thought to herself as she glanced over at the clock sitting on the mantle. It was still early in the morning.

Then the worry started to set in. (Y/N) was no stranger to the type of business that Tommy was involved in. She was by his side while he created a name for himself, and she stayed with him every step of the way. He continuously assured her that no one would ever come to their home and attack their family, but (Y/N) still couldn’t get the possibility of it to leave her mind.

She was so engulfed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear Frances say “welcome home, Mr. Shelby. They’re in the front room,” as her husband entered the foyer. It didn’t even set in as Tommy appeared in the archway, and the three children went running over to greet their father.

Things didn’t become clear until Charlotte turned to face her and exclaimed: “mumma! Dad’s home!”

Then everything came into view. Charlotte with a wide smile on her face. Max and Henry in their father’s arms. And Tommy. Tommy was looking right at her with one of the widest smiles she’s seen from him in a long time.

“Let’s go over and see your mum, eh?” Tommy said to his sons before he made his way over to the couch. Max and Henry wriggled out of his arms once he stopped in front of (Y/N), clambering up into her lap to give her a hug and a kiss before they went back to their new toys.

Tommy’s eyes quickly found (Y/N)’s once it was just the two of them. “You made it home,” she said, her smile practically stretching from ear to ear.

“I told you I’d be home from Christmas, love,” he answered, winking as he sent her a grin.

“C’mere, Tommy,” she held her hands out to him, and he got the idea, sitting down next to her on the couch. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second, throwing her arms around his frame and practically climbing into his lap as she hugged him tightly. “I’m so happy you’re home,” she whispered into his neck as she nestled her face deeper into it.

“Wouldn’t miss Christmas with you for the world,” he told her, his hands finding her shoulders then. She took it as a hint and lifted her head to look at him. “I love you,” (Y/N),” he said as he reached up and ran his hand down her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her smile widening before she closed the gap between them to press her lips to his.

The kiss was filled with so much love, and (Y/N) would have happily held it longer if her lungs weren’t screaming for air. She was the one to pull away, but she didn’t move far, opting to rest her forehead against his. “I love you, Tommy. Merry Christmas,” she breathed, her eyes still closed as she reveled in his presence.

“Merry Christmas,” he responded in a similar tone, his arms moving to wrap around her frame.

“Dad! We have presents for you!” Charlotte’s excited voice broke into their reverie moments later.

(Y/N) moved slightly so that she was now sitting next to him, and Tommy managed to tuck one of his arms behind her back - in efforts to keep her as close as possible - before their children came over to him with presents in hand.

“Open mine first!” Max exclaimed, thrusting the small box into his father’s lap.

Tommy smiled at the boy before he went about opening the present. (Y/N) watched on with a smile, knowing exactly what her husband was getting and how excited their son was to give it to him. Max let out like giggles of excitement as Tommy took the silver tie clasp that had a horse’s head on it out of its holder.

“Do you like it?” the boy asked with anticipation.

“I love it,” Tommy smiled before adding, “I’ll wear it the first chance I get.”

Henry gave him the next gift, which was a fancy pen that the boy had picked out himself. He said that Tommy could use it to write all of ‘his important letters’. Tommy made a promise to use it as his only pen from then on.

Then it was Charlotte’s turn. “Be careful when unwrapping it, dad. It’s fragile,” she gave a warning, one which Tommy chuckled at but also heeded to. “Do you like it?” she asked, like her younger brother had, when it was completely unwrapped.

Tommy didn’t say anything at first. Instead he stared at the present. (Y/N) peered over his shoulder to see what it was. Charlotte had been keeping it a secret from everybody. What Tommy was holding made (Y/N)’s heart swell. It was a hand drawn picture of her family - Tommy and (Y/N) stood on either side, then Max and Henry were standing next to them. In the middle was Charlotte, holding both of her brothers’ hands while she was wearing her favorite, purple colored dress. (Y/N) also didn’t miss the fact that Tommy, Max and Henry were all wearing a peaked cap.

“Do you like it?” Charlotte asked again, getting slightly impatient as her father was taking too long.

“I love it, sweetheart,” Tommy answered, finally looking up to smile at his daughter, “it’s perfect, Charlie,” he added, sounding choked up.

“It’s our family!” Charlotte exclaimed, a beaming smile now present on her face.

“It is,” Tommy nodded, “and it’s going in a frame so that it can sit on me desk.”

“So you can look at it always?” she asked.

“So I can look at it always,” he answered with a nod. Charlotte then rushed to get onto the couch so that she could hug her father.

(Y/N) quickly took the picture out of Tommy’s hands before it would get crumbled. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked down at it. Everything she needed in life was present in that picture…and was sitting beside her on the couch.

She was thankful that Tommy was able to make it home for Christmas.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

Listen to Brett Eldredge’s version of I’ll Be Home For Christmas:

HERE.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic

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meowzfordayz · 1 year ago

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NSFW Alphabet — Uzui Tengen

Author’s Note: for my own sanity, only some of these headcanons include Hina, Makio, and Suma. 😆 As w/ all hcs, these are simply my opinions in this exact moment of writing, and are subject to change depending on the context/my mood! 😉

NSFW Alphabet — Uzui Tengen

Uzui Tengen x Reader

Word Count: ~3,100

CW: 18+NSFW, ass!play, cream!pie, degrading language, explicit language, Fem!Reader, oral, public

MILESTONE 20.0

~faqs~

Aftercare? what they’re like after sex

Tengen’s aftercare can be… overwhelming. 🤭 Water and cuddles are appreciated, but do you really need a three course meal? An entire change of bedsheets? A steamy bath complete with petals and/or bath salts? A full body rubdown? Occasionally, the answer is YES! 😌 But oftentimes, the answer is: “Tengen, I’m not going to make it through the appetizer, let alone whatever else you’re planning.” 😴 Because as grateful as you are to be thoroughly pampered and cherished, sometimes the best aftercare is simply a quick rinse followed by promptly passing out.

Body Part? their favorite body part(s)

Tengen’s obsessed with your tits. 🤤😍 I mean, have you seen Hina, Makio, and Suma?! *cue that “You six are the most important things to me.” “Six? But Lord Tengen, there are only three of us.” “I said what I said.” meme* 😂 Sensitivity matters more to him than size or shape; if he can’t elicit a soft gasp from brushing his fingertips across your nipples, then what’s the point? ☹️ He’d be your personal bra if you’d let him, glued to your back 24/7, hands cupping your tits. If you have smaller tits: “But Tengen, they’re not even that big. I don’t need a bra!” “Okaaay, but I come with heating and massaging services! 🥺” If you have larger tits: “Honey, do you need help? ☺️” “Help? 🤨” “If they’re too heavy, I happen to know a strong man who can ease your burdens.” *cue Tengen winking exaggeratedly at your tits*

Tengen’s arms and thighs are to die for. He can hold you up against a wall, biceps flexing as your nails dig into his skin, cock thrusting steady and deep into your pussy, hardly out of breath, until you’re whimpering T-too much, g-gonna cum a-again. He can also keep you in place while you grind your clit against his thigh, forearms toned and unyielding as you melt into his chest, whining as you near your orgasm, unable to rest under his gentle, unforgiving guidance. “Mm, such a pretty thing, getting off on my thigh,” squeezing your waist in warning as you try to slow down, “What a pathetic whore, so anxious to cum the moment she sits on my lap,” grinning smugly as your body shudders, “There’s no stopping now, babygirl’s gotta finish what she starts, gotta make a mess on my thigh, then, maybe, I’ll let you go.” If you really think he’s letting you go after slipping your panties aside to feel your wetness seep through his pants, casually lifting you—with one arm, of course—just enough to fuck rough fingers into your clenched heat… think again. 😃

Cum?

Tengen prefers cumming in your pussy or on your ass. When he’s feeling intimate, finishing in your pussy feels like the ideal ending; it’s heavenly, sexy, and the perfect amount of lewd when you spread your folds so he can watch himself drip out of your stretched hole. If he’s feeling dominant, cumming on your ass satisfies his urge to claim and mark you in a more degrading manner; “My filthy fucking bitch,” as his cum coats your asshole, dribbling down the backs of your thighs, making a mess of the sheets below, “Wearing my cum so beautifully, what a slut.”

Dirty Talk?

Uzui Tengen aka King of Dirty Talk™️. Mind you, King™️ doesn’t mean everything he murmurs into your ear is mouthwatering, panty dropping, orgasm inducing, but it does mean he talks. A lot. Constantly. “You close to cumming? Close to squeezing the life out of my cock? Can’t wait to die by your pussy, mmm, yes darling, kill me.’ … … … 💀 To be fair, 9 out of 10 times he says something that’s actually pleasurable. 😆 “You hear that babydoll? The sound of your greedy pussy squelching around my cock? Look down gorgeous, look at how well you take me. Look and listen, tell me what you think, hm?” Spoiler alert: there’s no way you’re telling him what you think, because fucking you speechless happens to be his specialty.

Experience? their level of experience

Factoring in Hina, Makio, and Suma, Tengen’s quite experienced. They don’t have foursomes too often (coordinating four schedules is a nightmare lmao), which actually benefits his sexual familiarity and comfortability, because 1-on-1 with three different women means plenty of consistent variety and opportunities to experiment/learn/grow. Toss you into the mix (they’re all very happy to get to love and be loved by you 🥰), and fivesomes are even rarer than the elusive foursome. Omitting Hina, Makio, and Suma? Tengen’s still experienced, but sexual experience doesn’t necessarily equate to emotional or romantic maturity. Does he know how to bring his sexual partners to world shattering climax? Yeah. Does he know how to nurture intimacy and depth beyond carnality? ~Eventually! He isn’t inherently closed off to the idea or concept of closeness — he just needs the right person (you, heh) to feel like taking that next step is worth his time, energy, and investment.

Foreplay?

Tengen LOVES foreplay, but he also LOVES penetrative sex, so it’s a perpetual, inner debate for him. 😖 Does he bask in the glory of you giving him head while he’s gaming with Kyojuro and Sanemi, or does he go afk (away from keyboard) to bend you over the bed and fuck you between rounds? 🤓 On that note, he prefers receiving, primarily because it’s easier for you to randomly suck his dick than it is for him to randomly perform cunnilingus. 11/10 has calender anniversary reminders for all the various places you’ve blown him i.e. 1/27 Bar Bathroom Blowjob 🍻; 4/19 Changing Room Blowjob 👕; 10/31 Halloween Party Blowjob 🎃. Besides blowjobs and cunnilingus, he’s a sorry sap for making out (when he supports the back of your head/neck and kisses you deeply UNF) and pinching your nipples until you’re begging him to play nice.

Goofy? their sense of humor

Ever seen movie/tv show bloopers where actors laugh while trying to film a serious/sad/etc scene? That’s Tengen during sex. He isn’t consciously silly, but his intensity/somewhat domineering attitude occasionally misses the mark. To his credit, he’s generally aware of your mood and what the ~vibe is, but sometimes all he wants to do is spank you—”Can you be good for me? Can you count? From one to ten, can you count out your punishment?”—and all you end up doing is giggling and sassing off: “Can I count from one to ten? Why, yes, yes I can!!!!!” *cue unstifled laughter* 🤪

Hair? pubes maintenance

Short of zero maintenance, Tengen has next to no preference about his pubic hair. If you want him clean shaven? He’ll do his best (shaving his balls only scares him ~a tad). If you appreciate ~some hair? He’ll literally have you sit on the bathtub beside him while he grooms, and rely on you to tell him when to stop. And if you also have next to no preference? He falls into a monthly trim routine.

Intimacy? their degree of intimacy

Sex with Tengen tends to lack toe curling intimacy. Your toes will certainly curl for other reasons, but he isn’t really a stare-into-my-eyes-as-I-whisper-sweet-nothings lover; he’s a, “Look at me while I fuck your pretty cunt,” firm thumb lifting up your chin, “I said look at me,” fucker. If you ask for more intimate sex, then he’ll certainly try his best, but all it takes is a few clenches of your walls around his cock—your eyes rolling backward, soft whine pushed from your chest, as he buries himself balls deep—for him to dissolve into his usual demanding demeanor.

Jack Off? masturbation

Including Hina, Makio, and Suma, he hardly ever masturbates. Sex isn’t a given—he doesn’t take anyone for granted, nor assume that someone’ll be available whenever he’s horny—but he doesn’t want any of you to feel rejected or neglected either. It’s a careful balance between respecting his right to privacy and personal time, as well as him not constantly declining sex because, “Oops, I already masturbated today.” Excluding Hina, Makio, and Suma, he tends to masturbate/initiate sex more days a week than not. If you aren’t in the mood, then he still checks in that you’re alright with him satisfying his needs alone, because again: he cares more about you feeling desired and taken care of than he cares about immediately fulfilling his sexual urges. He’s less so asking permission to masturbate, and more so ensuring nobody feels left out.

Kink? ~specific turn ons

Tengen enjoys shibari, but only when there’s enough time for it to be artistic and sexual. Bondage satisfies him too, but there’s a distinct difference between tying your wrists and ankles to four corners of a bed versus having you kneel and move in front of him as he creates fluid, silky knots and patterns across your body. Both forms involve you trusting him to a degree that riles and soothes his desires to control and protect you, just as both forms typically end with him cumming in your pussy, hands clutching your hips as he trembles, feeling his slick squelch out from the fullness of his cock inside you, balls soon sticky and messy. However, shibari is more meditative and collaborative—a mutual dance—whereas bondage leans toward leading and following—precisely choreographed (and he’s the choreographer). P.S. He’s definitely the type to own a sex swing. 😵‍💫

Location? where they prefer to have sex

When it comes to penetrative sex, Tengen prefers the bedroom (or living room) — nothing like knowing there’re solid walls to hold and fuck you against, as well as a soft and comfy bed (or couch) for less effortful/more creative positions — the bed/couch provides cushioning for potential falling/mishaps when trying something new. But oral sex? Tengen’s happy to receive a blowjob practically anywhere, anytime (so long as you’re comfortable). He’d much prefer he be caught with his pants down than you, and has likely had to laugh off one or two ~interruptions. 😅

Motivation? ~general turn ons

Modeling clothing and sleeping in his shirts! 😍 You could model a winter coat and snow pants, and Tengen would still be eager to “find” your breasts beneath the thick layers of polyester and fleece, as well as squeeze your now thoroughly padded ass. 🤪 And if you model lingerie, swimwear, or anything remotely revealing? He’s 100% chugging water and fanning himself, legs parting as he not so subtly grabs his crotch, “I think we need to do a sit test before you buy those,” while patting his thigh. Are some of his reactions exaggerated? Yeah. 😂 But does he do it all to hype you up and because he’s attracted to you? Also yeah. ☺️ On a different note, wear his clothing, and he’ll immediately offer to let you keep it for forever. “Wearing my shirt?” he grins slyly. “Mhm.” “Keep it,” he declares. Eyebrows raising, you tilt your head, “What?” “I just want you to have sweet dreams!” he winks. “And wearing your shirt…” “Will obviously grant you sweet dreams.” “Surrre,” you drawl, arms crossing amusedly. “Aaand you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

No? turn offs

Unless it’s with his cock, Tengen isn’t huge on breathplay. Light choking? Sure, if you ask nicely. But more serious breathplay? He’s just a little too informed about the dangers of cutting your brain off from oxygen to properly enjoy it. 😕

Oral? giver or receiver

Tengen prefers receiving oral sex, mostly because he can’t get over how stunning you look with his cock in your mouth. As beautiful as you look—and feel—cumming while his tongue flicks rapidly at your clit, it just isn’t the same from between your thighs; your head tilts backward, pretty eyes disappearing from view, legs suffocating him and his view. But you, tracing the tip of his cock with your glistening tongue, one hand shoved between your legs, the other clutching his thigh, struggling to balance bringing yourself to orgasm and coaxing shudders from him? That is a sight he’ll never tire of.

Position? their favorite position(s)

For cumming in your pussy, Tengen adores having you on top. Make no mistake—he’s happy and able to do most of the work (grabbing your hips and thrusting upward into your cunt)—there’s just no better way to watch your tits bounce. Make him suck on your fingers before playing with your nipples, and he’s liable to cum much sooner than anticipated. For cumming on your ass, Tengen doesn’t really care what position you’re in; he’s focused on chasing his orgasm and keeping his thrusts as hard and precise as possible. If you’re on your back, then he’ll simply flip you over when he needs to cum, impatiently waiting to paint a lil heart on your ass with his cum (he cums first, and then uses it as ~paint — his swollen tip’s the paintbrush).

Quickie? a fan or not-a-fan

Tengen isn’t the hugest fan of quickies. He considers sex a privilege, an indulgence, an experience, and rushing it means less time to reach its potential. That being said, if he’s in the mood and there’s only time for a quickie, then he won’t hold off— he has the stamina to chase immediate gratification and enjoy his time (with you) ~later too. 😌

Risk? their risk tolerance

Despite his flashy persona, Tengen would rather partake in safe, “tame” sex than put his partner(s) at risk of bodily/emotional harm. Regarding himself, he’s less reserved. In other words, if someone’s going to be caught with their pants down, then he’d prefer it be himself than his partner(s). Even if you tell him, “Getting caught sucking someone’s dick can still be as embarrassing as getting caught having your dick sucked!” he’s unlikely to acknowledge his double standard — you’d really have to push to be the one undressing in a ~risky situation.

Stamina?

Tengen can go for hours, primarily because he can stave off cumming for hours. Sometimes you have to beg him to cum, as in, beg for him to cum, because your pussy’s swollen and sore and the copious amounts of lube aren’t enough anymore. “Tengen, please,” you whimper, mouthing weakly at his neck, body folded sweaty and exhausted atop his chest. “What is it?” he murmurs, only slightly breathless, slow thrusts continuing as he kneads your ass, “Please what?” “Please cum,” you groan, folds stinging from the relentless friction, “I swear if you don’t cum soon-” Smirking, he rocks his hips sharply upward, eyes closing as he drawls, “Then what?” “Then you’re pulling out and cumming in your fist.” That changes his pace real quick — best believe he’s cumming in your pussy, or not at all. As for his actual refractory period, he’s capable of multiple orgasms throughout the day, but the more he cums in a day, the more days he’ll need to recharge afterwards. 🪫

Toys?

Tengen may or may not dedicate a sizeable portion of his income to sex toys, especially factoring in Hina, Makio, and Suma. While he appreciates being called a Sex God™️, he’s a relatively humble god 🙃, and is fine acknowledging the usefulness and efficiency of dildos, vibrators, etc. He definitely researches options of intrigue before buying, and only purchases well reputed— oftentimes more expensive—toys. If any of you (“you” being Hina, Makio, Suma, and you) request a custom dildo of his penis, then you bet he’s making four of them!!!!! 😃 Why would he squander the opportunity to watch all four of his partners—all at the same time—fuck themselves with ~his cock? 😤 If you’re into anal sex, then he might splurge even further and make eight… because why would he squander the opportunity to watch all four of his partners—all at the same time—stuff all of their holes? Does this mean he’d technically need twelve if we’re counting mouths as well?

Unfair? how they feel about teasing/being teased

Tengen loooves teasing, but isn’t fond of being teased himself. 😬 You can tease him—he isn’t a jerk about it/won’t promptly shut you down—but he will flip the tables sooner rather than later. Verbal banter goes over better with him than physical playfulness, because it’s just too easy for him to manhandle you. If you’re dominant/switch leaning, then he’ll occasionally relinquish his reins, but doing so absolutely requires lengthy discussion and upfront negotiation/explanation (of your needs) prior.

Volume?

Tengen murmurs lowly and grunts loudly; a combination of seductive, filthy, and sometimes nonsensical dirty talk + guttural, staggered noises as he nears his climax. If he’s cumming multiple times in a day, then he’s definitely shouting, “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuck, FUUUUUCK!!!!!” by his last orgasm — similar to shouting through a difficult part of a workout, because cumming multiple times in a day is 😮‍💨.

Wild Card?

Tengen’s contemplated getting his dick pierced more than once, but hasn’t followed through with it because he’s afraid of the pain. Don’t get him wrong!!! 😠 He’s tough!!!!! 😡 Just not that kind of tough. ��

X-ray?

A show-er for sure, almost 8 inches when fully erect, and as thick as you’d expect (very). Proper preparation and lube are generally a must—another reason Tengen isn’t super into quickies—but he’s fairly straight with minimal veins, aka no wicked curves or texture that require further adjustment. The head of his cock is relatively small, so getting through the initial squeeze and fullness isn’t the hardest part; it’s a ~journey all the way down to his balls. 🤠

Yearning? sex drive

Goes through periods of initiating sex every other day to not feeling anything in particular about sex for like, a week. With four wives, that neutral period is important for resetting himself and getting shit done — taking care of himself + four partners sexually can take up a lot of time! Of course, you can obviously pleasure yourself + each other too (permutations, math, 5 numbers), and he’s more than content to watch—or hear about it later—when he’s not quite up for participating himself.

Zzz?

Instead of crashing immediately after sex, Tengen crashes immediately following aftercare. He has plenty of energy to go ~overboard with aftercare, and precisely no energy once he knows you’re both comfortably grounded and sated (if you let him, then he will cook you that three course meal mentioned in Aftercare, and he will start nodding off at the dining table once you’ve taken your last bite 🥱). He’s pretty indifferent about how you sleep after sex; just don’t roll over to the complete opposite side of the bed without even a pinky toe or finger touching him 🥲 — he’ll fall asleep thinking he’s upset you, but too tired to actually ask. 🥺😴

#tengen uzui #uzui tengen #tengen x reader #uzui x reader #sound hashira #headcanons #modern au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 4 months ago

Note

Hi,

Could you please write a Hannibal x s/o reader one-shot, where he is just releaving some stress after a tough week and she helps him relax.(with some nsfw parts please?)

Hannibal X Reader: A bit of relaxation

Warnings: smut, doggy style, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, kissing, dirty talk (briefly), pet names (baby, honey, love, darling), female anatomy, no use of y/n, not proofread.

Word count: 1,2K

He tugs his hands over his face, groaning out his frustrations. The sound catches your attention, causing you to lift your head from your book. You take in Hannibal's slumped frame. The two of you had decided to keep work and your relationship separated but sometimes one thing would seep into the other.

You could tell Hannibal was stressed. Will was having more and more trouble grounding himself to reality and that troubled Hannibal. You felt bad for Will of course but there was only so much Hannibal could do to help.

You raise from your chair, moving over to him. He raised his head from his hands, gazing up at you. You smile down at him, your hand moving to hold onto his chin. He closes his eyes at the feeling, your touch providing him some much needed comfort.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried.”

“About Will?”

“Yes. It hurts me to see him so out of it.”

“Honey there’s nothing you can do. You're helping him the best you can but there is only so much you can fix with therapy.”

“I feel like I'm failing him.”

“Oh baby.”

You climb onto his lap, tugging his head into your chest. He wrapped his arms around your body, relaxing into your frame. He took in your scent as your fingers moved against his scalp, caressing his hair. Maybe he should feel bad from lying to you but you’d never understand the truth. And he really was stressed. The only thing he was not being truthful about was the cause of his stress. It was better this way.

You continue to caress his hair, feeling his tense shoulder relax at your touch. His hands move to your waist, settling there. Hannibal lifted his head from your chest, resting his chin against the valley for your breasts. You smile down at him, placing a gentle kiss to his nose.

“Want me to help you relax?”

He can’t help the sudden desire that rushed through his body at your words. All he can manage to do is nod at you. You lift yourself off his body moving off him. Hannibal watched you tug down your pants, revealing your underwear to him. You give him a cheeky smile as you begin to unbutton your blouse, moving slowly so he can enjoy every new sight of your bare skin. You toss your shirt over your back. Your hand moves over your body, racing the valley of your breasts teasingly before moving to unclasp your bra. Hannibal moved forwards in his seat as your bare breasts came into view. He’s taken his dick out of its confines, his hand moving against it as he watches you make your way to him.

You stand in front of him for a moment, caressing his cheek before you move to straddle him once again. You guide Hannibal's dick against your slick, gathering your juices with his member. He groans at the feeling, his hip bucking up unconsciously. You shift against him, raising your hips so that you can align his dick with your cunt. Both of you moan as he enters you. Your walls flutter against him, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. You began to move, setting a slow pace. Hannibal watches you in awe as you move against him, swiveling your hips as you bounce up and down on his dick.

He lets you work yourself on his dick, his hand moving to give attention to your breasts. Your head falls back with a moan as his hands cup your breasts, thumbs moving over your nipples. You place one hand on his knee as the other grasps onto his shoulder, your pace speeding up. He thrusts into you , trying to help you out. As much as he enjoys to see your face as he fucks you he finds himself needed you to change your position. He grabs your waist forcing you to still your movements. Your eyes open at the action.

“Everything okay?”

“ I want you to turn around.”

“Okay.”

You lift off him whining at the sudden emptiness. The feeling doesn’t last long however because pretty soon Hannibal is helping you guide his dick back inside you. He watched the plushness of your ass push against his hip bones as you began to move. Your fingers dig into his knees as you spear yourself onto his dick. He closes his eyes, focusing on the sounds you're making. He usually enjoys having you ride him because it means he has to do less work but the stress he’s feeling needs to be released.

“Put your hands out.”

You simply nod at him, extending your hands so that your palms are forward. Hannibal rises from his seat, his hands winding against your body so that he can keep himself connected to you. You place your hands on the floor, raising your ass into the air. Your knees rub against the floor as you feel Hannibal's begin to move behind you. He’s on one of his knees, his other foot on the ground to stabilize him a bit more so that he can move at a rougher pace. He begins fuccking into you at a rough pace. Your palms sting from the friction of the floor but you’d never complain, not when Hannibal is so deep inside you you can feel him in your stomach.

“That’s it- ugh shit- taking it so fucking well darling.”

You moan, moving to rest your elbows on the floor as your arms begin to hurt. Hannibal doesn't let up his pace, pistoling into like a feral animal. You know why he prefers this position. It's a bit more animalistic and the thought of being in control thrills him.

“Don’t stop Hannibal-oh fuck- please don’t stop!”

He would never stop. He'd keep his dick buried inside you until you were begging him for a break. He leaned his body against yours, tugging you up so your back rests against his chest. He wrapped his hands around your breasts, needing at the flesh as you panted. His teeth found your shoulder biting into it. You moaned, your fingers digging into his hair. You tug at his locks causing him to grunt.

“I’m close Hannibal.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You! I belong to you. Please. ”

Hannibal threw your body down, your cheek coming in contact with the wood flooring. His hands grabbed onto your waist and he sped up his pace even more. You didn;t know anyone could move so fast but here you were. Your nipples rubbed against the floor as your body jerked against Hannibal's thrusts. It was all too much and soon your vision went white. You came with a shout of his name, palms moving against the floor in desperation to find something to grip onto. Hannibal continued to move his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. With a grunt he came into you, his seed coating your walls.

Hannibal pulled out of you, his body crashing onto the floor next to you. You remained lying face down, merely turning your head so you could gaze at him. His chest moved up and down as he breathed. He tilted his head to the side, staring at you with a blissed out expression. It was the calmest you’ve seen him all night. You knew your job here was done.

#smut #smut fanfiction #smut tag #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter #hannibal tv show #hannibal #mads mikkleson #nbc hannibal #mads mikkelsen smut #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal smut #mads mikkelsen x reader #mads mikkelsen x you #mads mikkelsen #mads x reader

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yan-lorkai · 28 days ago

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Day five: Helping Seras with her custome

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This drabble is more on the softer side since i love Seras very much and i would love to dote on her, she's my bbg 🥺🥺

Your hands tremble slightly as you adjust the collar of Seras's costume and you can feel the heat of her gaze tracing your every movement. “You know,” She purrs, voice dipping into a seductive lilt, “if you keep shaking like that, I might think you’re afraid of me, cutie.”

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to focus on your task. “I'm very much not afraid of you, I just want everything to be perfect because you deserve it.”

Her grin widens, and she tilts her head, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulder. “You’re always so honest with me, aren’t you?” Her gloved fingers catch your wrist, and she pulls you closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “I wonder if you know just how much I enjoy that.”

“I-I just want to make you happy,” You manage, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, you do,” Seras hums, leaning in until her lips almost brush against your ear. “You make me very happy, darling. So much that I could eat you up, piece by piece.” Her words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel your knees weaken under the intensity of her presence.

“You wouldn’t,” You whisper, a playful edge sneaking into your tone despite the fluttering in your chest.

She chuckles, low and dangerous. “Wouldn’t I?” She teases, her fangs grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. “But I’d savor every single bite.”

Your breath hitches, and you manage to meet her eyes, a flicker of defiance dancing in your own. “You’d have to catch me first.”

Her eyes light up, and she pulls back just enough to look at you fully, an almost challenging grin spreading across her face. “Oh, darling," She whispers, cupping your cheek. "I already have. You're all mine.”

You cough, feeling your face heating up from embarrassment. Flirting with her always left you like this, feeling so flustered and happy, but you still had a job to do.

You still have to help her.

You stand behind Seras, heart fluttering as you trace the intricate laces of her Halloween costume - she's dressed like a princess. Her eyes follow your every movement in the mirror, the sharp contrast between the pale moonlight seeping through the window and the deep velvet of her attire making her appear even more ethereal.

The weight of her gaze pins you in place and you can’t help but swallow hard, fingers fumbling over the delicate ribbons.

"You're shaking," Seras murmurs, her voice velvety yet edged with something darker. "Are you nervous, darling?"

Oh heavens... You're not nervous at all, you want to kiss every inch of skin and let her know how loved she truly is.

She lifts a gloved hand, brushing it against your cheek and you freeze. "You're so good to me," Seras smile, but there's a possessiveness lurking in her tone that is unmistakable. "You spoil me too much, my love."

You finish tying the ribbon and step back, swallowing the lump in your throat as you take in the full image of her — beautiful, amazing, and entirely yours. “How do I look?” Seras asks, though she knows the answer already.

She knows because the look on your eyes. Love blossoming in your irises as if it were the first time, as if it was the first time you were seeing her.

“Perfect,” You breathe out and she turns, wrapping her arms around you with a predatory grace, trapping you against her chest.

"Good," Seras whispers against your ear, "because now, you’re not allowed to leave my side. Ever."

#yandere seras #seras victoria x reader #seras x reader #yandere seras x reader #yandere seras x y/n #yandere seras victoria #seras x y/n #seras x you #seras victoria #seras victoria x y/n #seras victoria x you #lorkai drabble #female yandere #yandere female

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emsgwenstan · 1 year ago

Text

Papers and ink

Larissa Weems x student reader (platonic)

Warnings: mentions of sh, blood, traumatic experiences?

Words: about 4K.

Idk what this is just came out, it is a lil bit heavy but very quick, a lot more details could have been said but I’ll leave that to ur imagination. I used ‘mum’ instead of ‘mom’ because one I’m Australian and two Larissa is English so… enjoy xx

———

Sitting on your bed with your so called diary; the one you criticised other’s for having because it’s such a cliche for a teenage girl to have, you drew on todays page, no words wanting to form from your brain to paper. Your doodling was interrupted by a knock at the door, if it were your roommate she wouldn’t have knocked.

“Principal Weems.” You said, moving the book and pens to the side and asking her to sit. “Afternoon y/n, how are you darling?” She asked, tilting her head down trying to catch your gaze. “Well, I suppose, and you?” You wondered, meeting her gaze with a superficial smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine, I wanted to check up on you.” She pressed. “Yes, a welfare check up on the poor depressed, sick, burden of a student, right?” You sighed, feeling a little guilty at your backhandedness. “That’s not funny y/n, I’m serious I need to know how you are, not as a care provider or principal, but as me, I need you to talk and confide your trust in me, you can’t shut down again, not after what happened last time.”

You dropped the sarcasm and caught onto her tone. Larissa was referring to a couple of months ago when she asked for students help with carrying some things to a classroom, but in the midst of moving a box, your jumper sleeve rode up and she saw the markings embellished in your skin, and the slivers of blood seeping through the material. Since than she makes it a routine thing to check on you every four days, as annoying as it is, you understand her worry and have come to enjoy her company.

“I’m fine, honestly.” You spoke through your teeth, pleading to what ever she would just leave it alone, you weren’t that lucky. “Show me.” She said. “What?” You were shocked, knowing exactly what the principal is talking about. “Your arms, I will believe you if you show me.” She calmly asked. “No.” You said avoiding her. “Than you are in fact not fine, sweetheart.” She said placing a hand on you knee.

After a while of silence you decide to lift off your hoodie all together, Larissa didn’t move a muscle, instead just waiting for where your going with this. You outstretched your arm and lay your palm face up in her lap. Larissa’s gaze went from the floor to your skin, blinking slowly almost as if it were painful to do so she was met with the familiar red raw lines that stared back at her in torment.

“When was the last time?” She asked, placing her fingertips round the raised wounds. “Night before last…. I’m sorry.” You whispered. “Don’t apologise, I understand. I cannot stop you but it’s disappointing darling, not that I’m disappointed in you, just how you have fallen to having the need to harm yourself.” Larissa’s voice broke and her eyes glazed over. “I’m still sorry though, I… I don’t want to hurt you.” You said with furrowed brows and a heavy bottom lip. “You aren’t y/n. I just wish I could take all of you pain away from you, but I will spend as long as it takes to make you feel better ok?” She curled her hand in yours and used the other to cup your cheek showing her sincerity.

You could see the internal debate with herself displayed on her face before she spoke. “I’d like to share something with you.” Larissa said stroking your cheekbone. “Ok…” You breathed. “when I was your age I shared the same illness, I was in a downward spiral for a very long time. I used to be someone that did everything for everyone and didn’t get a single thing in return, I had crushes and had enough courage to tell them and I was humiliated every time I was turned down. I tried my best in every aspect, academically and socially, every bit of my life and it never seemed to be enough, all parts just crumbled, at least that’s how it felt.” Her face contorted as she reminisced her dark past.

You placed your free hand on top of your already intertwined ones, trying to show your interest and support wanting her to continue. “So… I turned to harming myself.” Her words twisted in your stomach feeling the sense of dread set in, releasing how she must feel about you. Larissa readjusted the way she was sitting, removing her hand from your face to the hem of her dress, also revoking your grasp on her hand to shimmy up the fabric until it bunched around her hips and the tops of her thighs were displayed.

Your eyes widen at the sight of the faded lacerations that adorned her legs. Your mouth fell open as your gaze switched between the principles eyes and her legs. As if you couldn’t control your actions, fingers went curiously towards her scars, but snapping back to reality you slowed. “May I… can-“ you stuttered not exactly sure of what you want yourself. Larissa however, knew what you wanted, she hooked her fingers under yours and brought them to her old wounds.

The feeling of her healed but raised flesh was bewildering, tracing every line with astonishment, curiosity and admiration you didn’t know how to comprehend words. “It’s been a very long time, 26 years actually, but I won’t lie to you… I do have thoughts of doing it again, but I don’t because I have young ones like you I have to set an example for, but also because I don’t really need to either.” She admitted.

“So… how did you get better?” Your small voice hoping for a easy remedy. “I-.” She started before you cut her off by quickly searching your bed. Grabbing a pen you told her to continue. Regaining where she was up to with your question she began to speak again. “I had to let my self feel bad and try to help myself, find healthy coping mechanisms and get out more, socialise and do the things I enjoy instead of putting them off, anything to keep the voice in my head at bay, after a while it got easier, less feeling the need to hurt myself, more moving forward from the dark and into the lighter parts of life.”

You open the pen and with out asking started to draw little stars over her scars, Larissa knows you function and concentrate best whilst using your hands. “What made you do it in the first place? If that’s ok, you don’t need to answer.” You paused to look deep into her eyes showing your interest and wanting her to know your care. Larissa hesitated before speaking, it’s only now she comes to realise herself that this is the first time she’s ever told anyone about her history.

“It was a few days after the 1991 rave’n, my best friend was my roommate and also happened to be my first serious crush, I hadn’t mentioned I was interested in woman, partly due to the times, but because I thought I hinted it enough that she’d know, we told each other everything and were more like sisters than friends, so a couple of weeks before the night of the dance we were talking and I tried to ask her If she’d like to go with me, but she somehow assumed I wanted to go with the boy she liked. The whole situation spiraled out of control and I couldn’t find the strength to admit to her she was the one I wanted, things after that were strained to say the least, she switched rooms and hardly spoke to me, my parents at the time were quite forceful and invasive so I couldn’t turn to anyone, no family and no friends.” She took a long deep breath once she had finished her confession.

“I’m so sorry principal Weems, that must have been really tough, although I’ve had similar experiences to.” You said avoiding her gaze. “Would you like to talk to me about it?” Larissa questioned, hoping that her confession might have been an icebreaker too breech your own conflicts.

“A couple of months ago I finally admitted to myself that I liked girls… I mean i still like boys to but, I don’t know I just feel like because it’s such a common thing now, I don’t want to seem like I’m only saying it to fit in or try to be apart of something if that makes sense. I also understand the parents thing, probably more than most people you will meet, I’m a child of a divorced marriage as your aware and I’ve been manipulated and shaped since a young age, coming here is the only stability I have, I’m just grateful that I don’t have to go back and fourth between families and homes anymore, but also at the same time I feel more lonely than ever.” You spoke unabashedly, laying it out for her to understand, Larissa is your mother figure witch makes you feel safe enough to talk bout things you would dare tell anyone else, but because she’s not biologically a parent it gives you the notion that Larissa has no obligation to treat you like a small child but a daughter she’s never had.

Larissa stored the information amidst her heart as you spoke. “Have you told anyone else?” She asked. “No. Only one girl I had a crush on, but she turned me down and we haven’t spoken since.” You said with tears welling in your eyes, remembering the feelings attached to the time. Larissa was so touched at your openness to her she began to cry. “Oh sweetheart.” She tutted. “So am I the first person you’ve opened up to about this?” She asked shakily. You nodded in response. Larissa’s flood gates opened as she embraced you in the tightest hold of your life.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” You said in a delicate tone, sincerely sorry for making her emotional. “No darling girl, I just- I love you so much and I know that may be somewhat inappropriate, but it’s the truth.” Larissa spoke into your hair while stroking it. “You know, Your exactly the kind of mother I’ve always wanted.” You whispered. Larissa drew back and let out a watery chuckle as she tucked strands of hair behind your ears. “Than I shall do my best to be that person for you sweetheart.” You smiled and wrapped your arms back around her torso and buried your head in her chest.

A little while later, Larissa was still by your side, but propped up on her elbow with her shoeless feet tucked behind her laying on the bed listening to you explain some of you favourite things and how connected you are with art, she adores how passionate you are and how you find the underlying meaning behind the most simple of things like music, poetry, books and paintings. Larissa finds herself realising how similar you are to her and will never have a problem finding a topic to discuss.

Hours went by and she left before your roommate came home, telling you to have a wonderful rest of your night and she will catch up with you tomorrow before kissing your forehead and murmuring sweet dreams. You felt full of happiness after your heavy afternoon, you couldn’t help but decide to find every sharp thing you own and wander down to the large bins that were placed at the back of the academy, the second the things were disposed you took a deep breath and watched the sunset, knowing that you will never mark yourself again, a turning point, a new beginning you owe it to yourself and to Larissa.

———

Two months had passed and it was spring break, being back at your houses with your family’s was exhausting, already after only three days things started to fall back into pattern with them, however you decided that this was it. No more suffering to survive in a place that should be a haven. No more pleasing the unpleaseable. You have a voice and used it, the world did feel like it was coming to and end but it was only the beginning of a next chapter.

Collecting your belongings that you really wanted, you packed and said goodbye for the last time, no hug no forced physical affection, nothing. Both of your parents were to offended to care about your decision, leaving you with no respect for the pair whatsoever. Nevermore was your home, and Larissa was your mother. With the last bit of money you had left, a one way ticket to the academy was bought, with a pit stop on the way.

———

Arriving back at the empty school, your excitement mimicked the first time you drove through the iron gates two years ago, except now you know where you are and that this is the place you belong.

Making your way up the steps with three suitcases was a difficult task but with the determination of discarding them in your room and finding Larissa was all it took to power through the maze of stone.

The principal gave you her phone number not to long after your heart to heart conversation so you bring up her contact on you phone and called her whilst walking to her office. You knew she would be here she told you that and you’ve come to know she keeps her word in every aspect. The second it starts dialling, butterflies erupted in your stomach. ‘I’m coming’ you thought releasing your breath in a chance to settle the nerves.

“Hello darling, are you ok?” She picked up. “Hey, yeah I am, I was just wondering how you are?” You wondered grinning to yourself as you were approaching the stairs to her office. “I’m ok, I do miss you though, how are you holding up?” She sighed. “I will be very well soon.” You said. “Oh? Why’s that?” She asked. You knocked on her door hearing it both from your perspective and on the line. “Just a second, that’s odd someone’s here.” Larissa paced to the door and opened it holding her phone to her chest. Her face lit up at the sight of you.

“Oh y/n! Your here!” She squealed. You hung up and launched yourself towards her engulfing her in a bear hug, with your arms around her neck and legs around her waist. “My goodness, how are- why are you here!?” She giggled tossing her phone onto the nearest seat, wrapping her arms around you. “It’s a long story but it can wait. I missed you so much.” You mumbled into her neck, smelling her perfume that has become quite nostalgic. Hopping down you grab her hand and drag her back to the office chair whilst you sit on top of the desk In front of her. Larissa really let’s you get away with everything.

“I have a present for you.” You said excitedly. “for me?” She asked incredulously. “Yes, although I don’t know how you will feel about it.” It came out very weary, all of a sudden the nervousness set back in. ‘Fuck it’ you thought, pulling out the papers from your back pocket. “I got these on my way back in Burlington. I may or may not have somehow stolen them, because they wouldn’t just give them to me but… I have them.” You handed her the folded papers and bit your lower lip in waiting.

Larissa gave you the look after your statement, the look that you so desperately wanted for a long time, the look that says ‘really? Well your lucky I love you’ look. She slowly opened up the paper and gasped. You swallowed thickly, not knowing if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Y/n.” Larissa breathed as she looked at you in shock, her hand came to rest over her gaping mouth. “Is that ok?” You wondered. She was silent for a minute trying to wrap her head around what was happening.

“Ye-… yes.” Larissa choked out. “You want… you want me to adopt you?” She asked. “I would want anyone else to be my mother but you.” You said as if it were the surest thing you had ever spoken. “So would you… want, to be my uhh…?” Larissa stood and opened her draw without saying anything and pulled out a pen and started to sign every page.

Putting the cap back on and tossing it back in her draw she turned to you and cupped your face. “I can’t think of anyone else I would rather have as my child.” She said kissing your hair and pulling you to her chest.

“I actually have a surprise for you to.” Larissa said taking a step back. “Really?” You asked. “Yes, we’ll sort of.” She began. “The pen you used to draw on my leg a couple of months ago was a permanent marker… and after a few days it was starting to fade, so I thought before it disappears I should make it literally permanent.” She says while pulling up her skirt. “I traveled to Burlington and had it tattooed.” You sat there in shock as you saw the stars exactly the same as when you drew them on there. “Oh principle Weems, I- I don’t know what to say.” Larissa chuckled and smiled down at you. “I will forever have a piece of you with me sweetheart.” You grinned and realised she really did love you as much as you love her.

“I was just trying to find the right time to tell you.” She stated. “Weren’t you telling me that you didn’t approve of tattoos?” You said cheekily. “Well… I’m a hypocrite, but this was special.” She said. You giggled at her words and flexed forward to give her a kiss on the cheek and thank her. “You know when this goes ahead, I was thinking you would like to stay with me?… as in live closer, I have a spare bedroom attached to the other side of my office across from my own quarters?” She quietly questioned, waving her arm in the direction of the room. “Of course!” You shrieked with excitement. “But um, do I still have to call you principle Weems?” You asked sheepishly. “Oh god no. Larissa it’s fine or mu-…what ever you prefer.” She cut herself of before she could finish the word, Larissa didn’t want to overstep due to the fact that she still doesn’t know the situation with your own family, but she doesn’t feel selfish to think that she could be a better mother than your own. “I like that.” You stared at her with a grin, she said cocking a brow hoping you’d continue. “Mum.”

————————————————————————

Obviously it’s very difficult to stop a habit like sh and it’s not always just an immediate stop but for the sake of this story I think it was wise to just put a graceful end to it. If personal experiences are revamped please be safe, love you and ur doing great xxx

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principle weems #larissa weems x y/n #wednesday #larissa x reader #platonic

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near-er · 1 year ago

Text

“Academic comfort”

Albedo Kreideprinz x Reader | Modern AU (comfort)

... FEATURING; Albedo Kreideprinz (modern au) CW/TW; burnt out, stress, tears, hurt/comfort, slight school vent, kinda fluffy??

Notes: I wrote this after a HUGE academic burnout and never finished it, but I thought this would be fitting to post for the back-to-school season (yes it's mid-month now, shhh)

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Another headache was beginning to form, looking up from the unorganised array of textbooks and papers. A quick glance toward the clock on the corner of your laptop reads, 2:37 AM. Despite spending 6 hours studying you still didn’t understand the content. The test is in 9 hours, 13 minutes and 12 seconds, but who's counting? definitely you. Especially because you don't understand the work. The emotions you’ve been trying to suppress for the past few hours flood to the surface: annoyance, guilt, embarrassment.

Everything begins to overwhelm you: the blue light from the laptop burns your eyes and your headphones playing “soothing lo-fi music” squeezes your head deathly tight.

Despite not being an emotional person, tears start to fill your eyes from the sheer amount of stress. Embarrassment quickly floods your system, you can’t damage your ego more by crying in public. Besides the fact that it's early morning on a school night the library still has a few stragglers. You scramble to wipe your stinging tears before they reach your test notes. In these quick movements you knock over your, now cold, plastic cup of coffee.

That’s it, your breaking point. Your head heavily drops into your hands, elbows now resting on the library table littered with your schoolwork. Plastic coffee cup slowly inching towards spilling its remaining cool liquid onto your notes. The headphones that were once playing soothing lo-fi music now lay to rest at the base of your neck. Preoccupied with your thoughts and trying to pull yourself together you fail to notice the person seated across from you remove their own headset.

"What are you studying this late?" a soft masculine voice laced with curiosity echos throughout the barren library. You lift your head up slightly allowing the male across from you to make eye contact with your red eyes. His light brow quirked up only seemed to compliment his azure eyes. You quickly avert your gaze once it dawned on you that you’d been staring. Great, not only are you too stupid to understand the textbook, but you’re too stupid to remember how to interact with someone. The tension is broken after some shuffling across from you and the slight screech of a chair. “Do you, want some help?” you hear, this time his voice sounds from your left side.

Finally clearing your throat and lifting your gaze, you turn to face the male standing next to you who you recognise to be Albedo, one of the top science students in the school and a mutual friend. "Nah its fine,, just some last minute studying before the test." You manage to force out with an obviously forced chuckle, your voice sounding slightly hoarse from the lack of use. His gaze slyly shifts between your bloodshot eyes and the empty cup of coffee on its side. "ah, I see," he responds with a light hum. He reaches over your backpack and starts to grab your papers.

Confused, you stay seated and continue to stare at him while he groups up all of your papers. What was this man doing? He finally paused as he noticed your confusion, "aren't you going to get some rest before the test?" you could almost laugh, scratch that, you did. Letting out an actual laugh this time you gently grab your papers back from his hand. "Albedo, darling, I'm not done studying yet, The test is tomorrow and I still don't understand half of this material." Stress seeps off your words, something he is quick to realize. You receive another hum in response, before grabbing a chair and sitting down.

“Okay, then how I can I help?”

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weaveandwood · 7 months ago

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Weave and Woods Chapter Seven: Copper for Your Thoughts

Gale/Named Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

Auroria and her party go to trade at the Myconid Colony and get roped into a rescue mission that goes horribly wrong. A small illusion leads to an important conversation between the wizard and ranger (finally).

TW: injury/burnsA/N: Inspired by my gameplay. I did not do well in Act 1, and pretty much played on vibes only, making a lot of mistakes and missteps but at least I got some delicious angsty ideas

He should not be leading her on like this, no matter how much he wanted her. She deserved more than he could offer - someone who could be with her fully, not a disgraced and godsforsaken, volatile, shell of a man. Even entertaining the idea of falling for her in his condition was beyond the pale. Bitterness seeped into the back of his throat as he thought about what he had to look forward to - never ending hunger, pain, and an explosion at the end of it all. Cutting all personal ties to be away from everything when his time comes, for there was no one he was willing to sacrifice at the end of his folly. He ran a hand down his face and threw the book onto the other side of his bedroll, suddenly tired of contemplating the future. Even if they cured themselves of the parasites in their brains, there was no plan, no cure mentioned in all his research for the other parasite within his heart. In another life, perhaps, they would be able to act on their feelings - have a proper life together in Waterdeep, grow old together, and remain in each other’s company. Until then, he would revert to the proper gentleman, nothing but cordial as is befitting both her status as party leader and an archmage of his status. Or previous status, as it were. He nodded to himself, steeling his mind now that it was made up. Yes, that was the correct course of action. His mind drifted back to the tadpole, reaching for his book again before he heard all the hells breaking loose outside.

Gale was avoiding her.

Five nights. Five nights since their sparring match, and not a word.

Auroria stabbed at the sausage on her plate, the cook having long since disappeared back into the solitude of his tent without so much as an acknowledgement of her or anyone else’s presence. Just a pile of sausages on the table for their morning meal.

The longer she thought about it, the angrier she got. Did she not deserve at the very least a conversation? He was the one instigating everything that day. He flirted with her at the puzzle, he was the one who initiated holding hands, he was the one who -

“Copper for your thoughts, soldier?”

Auroria looked up and was met with one of her favorite faces. Karlach and her had become fast friends, mainly due to their similar outlooks on most things (positive) and their desire to help people along the journey they made (instead of pickpocketing them or scowling at them). She sighed, stabbing the sausage again.

“I’m fine.”

“Would hate to be the person you’re pretending that sausage is, darling,” crooned Astarion, an eyebrow raised as he looked from Auroria to Gale’s tent, always so perceptive.

“I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about,” Auroria said, trying to put on a disinterested air as she took a bite of the meat.

“Yeah, right! We all have noticed that the camp has gotten particularly chilly between you and a certain potentially explosive wizard. And that’s coming from me , who is so hot I can’t even touch anyone!” Karlach joked, trying to lighten the mood a little, getting a soft chuckle out of Wyll, who sat by her side.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel, putting a pause in their deep conversation, also nodded in agreement from across the warm embers of the previous night’s fire.

“Chk! I told you at the party that you would regret wasting your time with that wizard,” Lae’zel said, earning a nudge from Shadowheart’s elbow.

Okay, so Gale was avoiding her, and everyone in camp knew it.

Desperate to get the situation back under her control, knowing she couldn’t stop the gossip that was sure to happen as soon as she left the campfire area, Auroria hatched a plan.

“I just didn’t sleep well, that’s all. Anyway! I want to go into the colony today to trade some of the things we’ve been carrying around that have proven pretty useless to us so far. I’ve already got the goods separated out, so it should be an easy trip. Karlach, Wyll, Astarion - do you want to join me?”

“Absolutely! Get me out of this camp!” “I’d be delighted to accompany you.” “Ugh, if I must.”

Choosing this group in particular was strategic - Astarion had a keen eye for everything happening at camp, and a keen personality for irritating the hells out of Gale. The situation was already volatile enough, and she enjoyed his complaints about being on the road. As for Karlach and Wyll, the two had started to grow closer as their own journeys intertwined, and Auroria simply wanted to help cultivate a deeper friendship between the two and what better way to do that than a couple of hours spent walking in good company?

“Okay, great. Get ready and let’s meet back here in half an hour,” Auroria said, already in a better mood as she went to her tent to get the four packs she mentioned. Since they were only going to do some trading, Auroria decided to forgo the scale mail armor she had been favoring and instead chose the old thin leather vest and leggings she had been wearing when she was kidnapped - cleaned and mended and no worse for wear.

A flash of gold caught her eye. Oh, right, it’s been since before we got to the Underdark, she thought, eyeing a locket she had found on a corpse the other day. She could sense a small amount of magic within it, so she had put it aside to give to Gale. Even if she was annoyed, frustrated, and maybe a little heartbroken that he was avoiding her, she still promised him that she would help him with his orb situation. That had not changed, and she would not go back on her word. In truth, she knew the orb was exactly why he was pulling away, no matter how much she didn’t want him to - she just wanted him to at least talk to her about it. She scribbled a quick note, attached it to the chain, then hung the locket on his telescope as she walked past, counting on her light footsteps to go unnoticed by the tent’s inhabitant.

“Alright everyone, grab a pack and let’s go,” she smiled, glad to be away from the tension for a few hours.

Auroria loved the Myconid Colony. The inhabitants were so unique and she felt a kindred bond with them - they had such a respect for their environment that when Astarion looked at a rogue’s morsel a little too long, he almost started a fight before Auroria intervened, diffusing the situation. Their first stop was a dwarven trader named Derryth Bonecloak. While she didn’t want to trade for a lot of their goods, she took a few items off their hands in exchange for some useful potions and a camp supply pack. Auroria attempted to make conversation with her while they did their exchange.

“So your husband is missing? Do you need help finding him? Can you describe him?” She asked.

“Oh, not this again,” she heard Astarion mutter under his breath. She ignored him.

“He’s bald, blue tunic, dumb as a stick, name is Baelen. Help yourself if you want to find him, but don’t expect a reward from me if you do - he’s useless, getting himself lost after being sent on a routine errand looking for a noblestalk,” Derryth replied, her voice scornful.

“Well, we will keep an eye out and will let you know if we come across him,” Auroria replied with a soft smile before turning to her companions. “Come on, let’s go look for him.”

“Actively looking for this man who seems more like a louse doesn’t feel like ‘we’ll keep an eye out’ does it?” Astarion leaned in, speaking softly, immune to Karlach’s glares.

“If you were lost in a strange place, wouldn’t you want someone more capable to help you find your way, Fangs?” Karlach asked.

“Karlach is right, so that’s why we’re going to look for him, we’re heading out.” Auroria nodded to the group, turning on her heel, asking the nearest myconid where someone may potentially go looking for a noblestalk, explaining the situation with the Bonecloaks. Interestingly enough, they appeared to have an arrangement with the myconids that allowed them to forage freely. The creature pointed to the north, indicating some sort of field there that may prove fruitful in their search.

Auroria’s stomach dropped when they came to the area.

“Bibberbangs,” she said with a sneer. She had never experienced them firsthand, but remembered from her training in the High Forest Scouts that bibberbangs were dangerous - not only poisonous, but also explosive if you came too close and lingered too long. Of course, she spotted Baelen Bonecloak, cowering in a small clearing smack dab in the very middle of the grotto. How did he even get there? She wondered.

“You know, we can just say we didn’t spot him, no one would ever know,” Astarion said, crossing his arms. “Either way, I’m not going in there.”

Auroria looked at each of her party members, then back to Baelen. “Well that’s obviously not going to happen. You all stay here, I’ll go in and get him. It’s better if only one of us goes in there, these mushrooms are very volatile, and I’m trained for navigating places like this.” She turned and faced the grove of bibberbangs, her heartbeat increasing slightly. “Sure wish we had a scroll of misty step though,” she nervously laughed as she dropped her pack, the first time any of her party had seen a lack of confidence in her abilities show through her capable ranger persona.

Some agonizing minutes later, she found herself surrounded by bright green mushrooms. She didn’t want to breathe too heavily for fear of setting them off, but also couldn’t remain still for too long for the same reason. She crept forward, inch by inch.

“Please! My backpack! I left it over there!” The older dwarf had finally noticed her, yelling out with a feeble voice and a shaking hand, though whether it was from age or fear, she couldn’t tell. She nodded and looked to the right, in a particularly tangled area of bibberbangs and saw a small, faded blue backpack. She saw a thin, small path that could possibly, maybe lead to it, and then connected that to a more defined clear path that led to the dwarf. She exhaled. Ok, slow and careful, Ora. Gods, having someone to cast mage hand would be fantastic. Her mind drifted to Gale and how this would be so much easier if he were here, how they could discuss the bibberbangs afterward from both a practical and academic viewpoint. How he always seemed to help her clear her mind, how it felt when her hand was in his -

“Ora! Careful!” She heard Wyll yell, coming back to the material plane, just in time to see her hand brush up against a bibberbang.

******

“Shadowheart! Lae’zel! A little help? ”

A faint yell disturbed the silence that had settled over the camp. Gale sat in his tent, mildly intrigued but also at an exceptionally interesting part of the meticulous notes he had procured from Blurg the evening before in the Ebonlake Grotto.

“Shadowheart! ” A little louder. Was that Wyll?

“Why would they need Shadowheart and Lae’zel’s help after a simple trading trip into the Myconid Colony?” he muttered to himself, sipping out of his wine glass as he flipped the page, half listening for commotion outside, but not yet ready to face her after the last time he was near her ended so painfully - both literally and figuratively. That was five evenings ago. He was avoiding her, and he would bet everyone else likely had picked up on it. Not that he would know, he’d also avoided most of the others as well. Luckily, there was always some chore to be done, some loot to sort, some pressing notes that must be written down in one of the books he was pouring over that would disguise his cowardice as well-focused diligence toward the success of the camp.

He sighed, rubbing his chest. The orb was still insatiable, each artefact unable to fully quell the gnawing hunger inside. He held up the newest addition to the many offerings Auroria had brought to his tent over the past weeks, almost since their journey began. Today there was a magical locket, similar to the first one she had given him so many weeks ago, hanging from his telescope with a small note. He kept a small box in his tent for the magical items procured by his ever attentive leader, filled near half-full with pendants, lockets, and rings imbued with the Weave to satisfy his orb’s constant cravings. It reminded him so much of Tara tirelessly searching for anything that would bring him even a modicum of relief. He counted himself lucky to have two friends in his life that would always be on the lookout for him, even if he was a doomed man.

Found this on a Duergar and I thought you could use it. Happy dining! - Ora P.S. I am now the proud caster of Ensnaring Strike. Can’t wait to show you.

A little further down the note, in smaller writing was another postscript, written as if it was not supposed to be noticed.

I miss our talks. I miss you.

He had read and reread the note at least twenty times since this morning, after Auroria set off with Wyll, Karlach, and Astarion to go do their trading at the Myconid Colony. The colony was one of the bright spots in the Underdark - not just for the vibrant colors and strange inhabitants, but perhaps most interestingly of all, the colony was home to a Mind Flayer completely free of the Elder Brain’s thrall. The entire party had gone into the colony to explore the previous day and once Gale had met Blurg and Omeluum, he was deep in conversation for almost an hour. Blurg had given him the book he was now currently reading when he had expressed an interest in researching whether his own arcane energy could help them reject their tadpoles prior to transformation, if it came to that. With his academic blinders on, Gale returned to his tent and had scarcely left since, his pursuits a convenient excuse for seclusion.

He glanced at the note again, his internal feelings as split as the message - pride and elation at her spell casting success, pain and frustration at the distance he had put between them. He was a man torn in half. He did not want to avoid her - quite the opposite in fact, but every time he found himself near her, all he could think about was kissing her, and his orb protested. Painfully. Conversely, she figured out the spell on her own, after all the failures and after his own less than elegant retreat the other evening, and he wanted to celebrate that with her. With a kiss, he thought, waiting for the orb to make him offer penance for that thought. The last night they were together, he felt… good. Happy, even. Almost carefree - the evening fading into the night as if no time had passed at all. It had been so long since he had felt the stirrings of happiness in his veins, since before the breakdown of his relations with Mystra. The satisfaction of teaching her, helping her work through her frustrations, the fun they had while sparring fulfilled him so much he felt he might combust on his own without the orb’s influence. His mind turned to the searching look on her face when they were inches apart, the feel of her body pressing against this, the way his name sounded coming from her lips, his hand grasped tightly to hers -

A faint glow, a wince. His ever present curse. His eyes drifted to the note again.

I miss our talks. I miss you.

He nodded to himself, steeling his mind now that it was made up. Yes, that was the correct course of action. His mind drifted back to the tadpole, reaching for his book again before he heard all the hells breaking loose outside.

“No, Ora! What happened?” Yelled Shadowheart as the four adventurers must have crested the hill. Gale perked up at Auroria’s name, listening intently now.

“Please, help her! Bibberbang explosion! We had one healing potion in our packs but it wasn’t enough. She passed out on the way back,” Wyll yelled, his voice shaky.

His body went cold. He knew all about bibberbangs from his studies - they should be treated carefully or destroyed at range at all costs.

Gale jumped to his feet, ignoring his body’s protestations, and ran out of his tent. He was greeted with the image of Karlach holding 4 packs, and Wyll and Astarion carrying Auroria, who was knocked out, her clothes singed, with angry burns down one side of her body. They laid her down on one of the spare bedrolls by the campfire while Shadowheart ran to the chest to pick out a particularly strong healing potion to use in conjunction with her spellwork.

“What happened? I thought you were just going to do some trading at the vendors in the colony? You all aren’t even wearing proper armor!” Gale yelled as he marched toward Wyll. His heart dropped into his stomach, his mind was unprepared to see Auroria like this.

“Hey! Cool it, Magic Man. The plan was to trade and come back, but you know how Ora is,” said Karlach. She stepped in front of him, trying to both deflect Gale’s anger and protect Wyll at the same time.

“And how is Auroria, exactly? Aside from being burned and unconscious?” He said, his tone turning icy.

Astarion stepped in, his arms crossed. “Oh, like you’re an expert? You’ve been ignoring her for the past…what has it been, five days now?” He glared at Gale. “We were supposed to visit the merchants and see how we could unburden our packs of this useless stuff we’ve been hauling around, but one of them gave dear Ora a sob story about her poor missing husband and you know our fearless leader never says no to helping someone she’s known for exactly one minute.” He lowered his gaze at Karlach, “And that one egged her on to help. Honestly, I’m surrounded by do-gooders and I need a drink. I’m clearly the only voice of reason around here.” He rubbed his temples, stalking off to his tent for a large cup of a strong scavenged vintage as Shadowheart set out the potions and kneeled at Auroria’s side.

Gale moved to the head of the bedroll, his own instincts guiding him to sit down and carefully place Auroria’s head in his lap. Shadowheart looked at him. She knew something was going on between them - they all did. It wasn’t hard to notice the stolen smiles, the secret hand holding between the two, but also could sense something had changed the past five days given Gale’s suddenly aloof demeanor towards Auroria. Hopefully this will be the catalyst to move them past whatever is going on between them. She hated seeing Auroria out of sorts.

“Hold her still. This won’t take too long, but it’s easier if she’s not moving. She’s really not in as bad of shape as she could have been, she got lucky,” she said. Gale nodded in agreement.

“What happened, Wyll?” He asked again, gentler, feeling his eyes getting misty. He didn’t like seeing Auroria - no, Ora, his Ora - in pain, unconscious, injured.

“She was distracted,” he leveled at Gale, his good eye bright and shining with unspilled tears. Wyll held Auroria’s unburned hand, his thumb tenderly rubbing over the back of it across her knuckles. Everyone loved her, that much was obvious. “And you know exactly why.”

Gale looked down at Ora’s face, a nasty red burn creeping up from her neck along the path of her scar. He watched as the burns receded with Shadowheart’s healing words. There would be no permanent physical damage from this event, though it wouldn’t matter to him if there was - she was and would always be the most beautiful person he had ever seen, both inside and out. How many times had she risked her life for a complete stranger? Their party was proof alone of her good heart. Looking at her, he realized his feelings were stronger than he had originally thought, but he couldn’t deny them, and would no longer try to deny them. She was everything good about this continent. He tucked the errant stand of hair she always seemed to miss on the right side of her twist behind her ear, his eyes growing watery at the thought of having wasted five days in childish seclusion when any of them could be taken away at any time. Yes, he knew the reason why she was distracted indeed, and he was determined to never be the reason again.

So much for his planned course of action.

******

Auroria blinked, gasping softly as she opened her eyes, clutching her throbbing head. She looked up at the sky, surrounded by bright green trees, felt the ground covered in soft grass, and heard the faint sound of birdsong in her ears. The last thing she remembered was Wyll yelling and a bright flash of light while in the Underdark, so how did she get into a forest? And why was it early morning sunlight? Surely I wasn’t out for that long , she thought. Her brow furrowed as she looked around, sitting up slowly, groaning through sore muscles. Clive, Karlach’s prized stuffed bear, was placed next to her, so she was in camp. But how-?

“Oh! You’re awake,” a voice said softly, a reverent whisper from the other side of the tent.

Gale.

“Did you do this?” she asked, looking around in awe, her tent transformed into the woods she so dearly loved, an illusion replacing the highest point with the canopy.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “Ora I’m -”

“Why are you here? You’ve ignored me all this time, and now you’re here in my tent while I assume I was unconscious?”

“Yes, well, about that…Ora -”

“And you think a pretty illusion can make up for the fact you haven’t looked at or spoken to me in FIVE -”

She felt a hand on hers, silencing her immediately. She looked down at it, then at Gale, who was kneeling beside her bedroll, a soft smile on his face.

“Ora, please. Let me finish a sentence. I’ve been an ass. A colossal ass. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to navigate everything with the orb and whatever is happening between us. I know withdrawing, cloistering myself in my own tent was not the best course of action, but it…it’s what I do, Ora. I isolated myself in my tower for a year when I was cursed with this orb, when Mystra abandoned me. Retreating into myself is what I know how to do.” He handed her a cup of water, which she took, smelling something minty. “I crushed some peppermint in it. I thought it would feel refreshing and cool. I haven’t done extensive studying on herbs, and I know that’s your area of expertise, but last time you had a headache you had mentioned it having a soothing effect”

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” She took a drink and set the cup down beside her. “Listen, I understand why you pulled back, but I hated it. I hated how I felt like I did something wrong, when I didn’t. Every time you feel a little uncomfortable now, if we ever have a disagreement, will you hide yourself away and ignore everyone? How can I not be on edge that something I do will make this situation repeat itself? Will I always spend my time guessing around you? I know you have…limitations because of the orb, but it doesn’t change the fact that you were instigating everything and punishing me for it,” she said. “Punishing everyone.”

“No, you’re right, you’re absolutely right. I was taking out my own shortcomings, my own confusion on you.” He looked down at the floor, the visage of a shamed man. “I can only hope to use this as a learning experience and move forward in a way that is more befitting a wizard of my status, and a man of my age,” he nodded and looked up at her. “I am sorry, again, Ora. I understand if you’d like to keep your distance from me, though I certainly hope you won’t. When I saw you laying unmoving on the bedroll by the campfire earlier, I was so angry with myself. Angry I may have missed my chance, angry about all the time I wasted. Any one of us could be gone at any time. I know that better than most. I will not waste my remaining time again.” His voice trembling, he cleared his throat. “I should leave you to recover.” He started to stand up.

Auroria grabbed onto the sleeve of his camp shirt. “No. Stay with me.”

“I was hoping you would say that,” he smiled, sitting back down, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He took her hand in his, relishing the feeling of her fingers intertwined with his own. He chuckled, “You know, it feels like the greatest prank in all the heavens that the orb allows me to hold your hand freely, but the minute I think of anything else…”

He looked at her lips, still moist from the water. As if on cue, the orb flashed faintly, sending another warning of pain through his veins.

“That is what happens. Holding your hand feels so natural. There’s never been any excitement involved -” he held up a finger as Auroria raised an eyebrow. “Wait, not that holding your hand isn’t exciting! It is! I just…it feels like I am always meant to hold it. I always am just drawn to the action, instinctually. I can just do it without thinking. Other… pursuits , ones that cause my heart to race and my brain to work in overdrive, seem to trigger the orb. I am working on understanding it, but can you be patient with both the situation and the wizard, Ora?” He asked, the normally confident man suddenly unsure.

Auroria smiled, squeezing his hand with hers, “I can be patient with the situation, the wizard, and the man.”

“You would likely have a more fulfilling time with someone else, like Wyll or Astar-” He felt a finger on his lips, his turn to be silenced.

“Do not dare finish that sentence, Gale of Waterdeep. You are the one I want to spend my time with. The only one I want to let in, to give my feelings. Please know that.” She stifled a yawn. “Now, explain to me what forest this is, I love it, and want to visit it…after everything.” She smiled as she laid back down with her hand still laced in his. Her headache was starting to subside but sleep was quickly creeping up on her

“No forest in particular, I just thought of you while creating it.”

“Hmm, my own personal woods. Well it’s beautiful,” she smiled, closing her eyes.

“It really is,” he responded, looking only at the ranger who was already fast asleep.

#my writing #weave and woods #gale x tav #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfic #gale x auroria #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #auroria galanodel #my screenshots #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #weave and woods fic

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existentialmagazine · 2 years ago

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Review: Alexandra’s new indie-pop single ‘I’m Not Good At This Anymore’ tethers a growing, layered soundscape with a heartfelt message

Growing up as a singer, the indie-pop singer-songwriter Alexandra found herself confiding in her lyricism where reality failed as a release, now merging her life-long love affair of live performance with meticulously crafted releases. Layering vocals, penning authentic storytelling and overall building enchanting soundscapes with ease, it’s without a doubt that Alexandra should be a name just as known to the masses as those like Phoebe Bridgers and Dodie. Following on from her lighthearted release ‘Bonnie & Clyde’, Alexandra now sees herself sharing more of an intimate side of her musical talents in newest single ‘I’m Not Good At This Anymore.’

Settling in with gently strummed, slightly palm-muted acoustic guitar, ‘I’m Not Good At This Anymore’ immediately captures a real essence of rawness in its stripped-back approach, with even the slight squeaks that come from shifting between chords adding an essence to the soundscape that inadvertently leaves it so profoundly hard-hitting right from its beginnings. Picking up more with strums that ring out to their full volume and impact, the song begins a slow-burning progressive build from sorrow to more deep jadedness. Very light electric guitar leaves the first chorus standing out too, creating an atmospheric moment you can’t help but be both hooked on while still hurting. Stumbling along with the addition of a driving pulse-like beat and built-up instrumentals that leave the second chorus absolutely flourishing, every element of the production feels carefully curated and sure to whisk you away on a journey you won’t regret pressing play on. As Alexandra’s layered vocals throughout only top off this gorgeous setting, she soars in a higher range that’s personal and emotionally infused, making it unavoidable for you to not leave ‘I’m Not Good At This Anymore’ singing along like you’d always known the words.

All-too real and reflective, ‘I’m Not Good At This Anymore’ is the soundtrack to any post-party comedown, finding yourself looking in the mirror as well as reliving everything you said and did and thinking - who’s the stranger looking back at me? Detached and hinting at dissociating, Alexandra’s aching lines detail how it feels to lose yourself, introspectively looking for answers and finding you don’t have them. As a partner - or potentially just a newfound flirt - surrounds the track’s narrative, Alexandra finds herself emotionally distant: ‘You say, darling what’s on your mind? But I don’t break, I’m a brick wall, and I hate when you say I’m getting red.’ Seemingly resentful towards them, fallen out of love or just keeping herself closed away, Alexandra’s woefully penned lines seep with a fear of not knowing her own identity while trying to make sense of this romance: ‘don’t call me honey, I don’t feel so sweet. Don’t recognise me, how am I not good at this anymore?’ The track intentionally feels a little vague, allowing for you to resonate with it in whichever capacity it relates to your own experiences, not directly implying any one thing. If you’re struggling to know who you are and feeling cynical about the reality of that self-awareness, Alexandra is here to remind you that’s perfectly okay, she’s still working through waves of that herself: ‘rather be quiet than misunderstood.’

Check out ‘I’m Not Good At This Anymore’ for yourself here to uncover your own meaning in Alexandra’s beautifully written lyricism and tender but wonderfully catchy soundscape!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator

#music #singlereview #alexandra

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pearlparty · 2 years ago

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Mundanity: An October Sunday Morning

Austin x Reader

Summary: A little peak into a brief moment of calm on a Sunday where Austin romanticizes his life with his favorite girl and sensually puts lotion on her legs to give him an edge in their little game of teasing.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, brief descriptions of memories of sex (not graphic), brief strong language, teasing, Austin is a simp lord, finger guns (yes this is a warning), sweater paws, they’re so in love it’s disgusting

Word Count: 5k

Note: This is in 3rd person because it’s entirely from Austin’s POV because I love to write men who are such simps, BUT it’s technically a reader fic. Also, the reader’s descriptions are super vague, but I did briefly mention cellulite and stretch marks because a lot of people have them and they’re not size exclusive. Also, I’m debating making this a kind of series/collection where it’s just little snapshots of the little mundane and domestic things in life can be made special. And it wouldn’t be for just these two since I’d love to write for his other characters and stuff. So lmk if you’d like to see that.

Sunday mornings were a contented sigh breathed after a long and arduous week. Tranquility seemed to seep into the apartment on the sunbeams that peaked through the blinds and bounced off the cream walls in the master bedroom. The houseplant in the corner next to the nightstand welcomed the light, stretching towards the window with open arms, eager to start the new day with a dose of sunshine. A soft birdsong gently coaxed the city from its slumber, almost as though its singer was saying, “A new day has begun. Relax and rise with the sun--take your time, darling.”

Austin loved these moments. Their serenity became an anticipated standstill in his hectic life, a chance to just… exist. Maybe savor the little mundane moments with the love of his life on the other side of his bed.

No alarm clock, no pressing appointments. Just greeting the day with a lazy smile as his eyes slowly opened. Everything always seemed to be moving so fast that taking time to breathe out his dreams and lay with his thoughts for a while became a necessity to wind down from the week’s stress.

He’d turn over slowly and peek at the breathtaking girl lying next to him. He was never in a rush to take her in. Even in her sleeping state—face squished against her pillow, wild hair, and the small line of drool coming from her mouth—all he wanted to do was bask in her presence. He loved her soft snores or the way that she’d breathe out a peaceful moan and nuzzle into her pillow when repositioning in the morning, like her body was begging, “just five more minutes, please.”

Sometimes, he’d still be half asleep and reach out to hold her hand, leisurely wrapping his fingers around her tiny fist in a loose grip. Just enough contact to let her know that he was there, but not enough to wake her up. Usually, she’d hold his hand, too, and press a sleepy kiss to his thumb as they both fell back asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Spooning all night wasn’t as comfortable as it had been in the honeymoon phase. Romance is not always practical, no matter what the storybooks say. It left Austin waking up with pain tingling in a dead limb, or their combined body heat under the sheets and comforter woke her in the middle of the night drenched in sweat.

Most nights started out with their arms around each other to enjoy each other’s warmth, breaths slowing, heart beats syncing, and just before succumbing to the pull of sleep, one would press a kiss to the other before letting go, still close enough to brush against each other if they wanted. Neither thought poorly of the other because of it--sleep’s a selfish thing and it can’t be helped that always sleeping on top of another person is slightly uncomfortable.

Besides, little touches like entwining their pinkies or running fingers over shoulders almost meant more because, even under the spell of dreams, their souls always found a way to connect. It was like nothing would keep them apart.

This soft morning, however, Austin kept his hands firmly planted under his pillow and his stomach pressed to the mattress as he looked her over. Savoring the way the mellow light caressed her features, and cherishing the way her scent clung to his skin soothed his appetite for contentment more than a simple touch ever could. The dark gray sheets still tangled around her bare form, light fabric kissing her skin in the cool morning air creeping in through the ajar window across the room. He could trace each and every curve of her body with his fingers if he wanted to reach out and touch her; perhaps he’d allow himself to and confirm that she really was lying in their bed and not a dream--a dream he feared he could wake from at any moment. She was an angel gracing him with her presence, and if he dared indulge his selfish desires and graze her cheek with his hand, she might disappear, ascend back to the holier plane.

Memories of their firsts, their most recents, and everything in between swirled around his brain. Heat crawled up his face, igniting a light blush on his cheeks as he recalled the night before. Flashes of hastened kisses, eager hands, and moans of praise flitted through his mind. Oh, how he wanted to wake his love, remind her of his affections; she had him completely bewitched, willing to do anything and everything to make her happy.

Perhaps later. Now, he’d let his angel sleep.

He pushed his body to his elbow and leaned toward her. His lips slowly, gently, grazed over her hairline. “I love you,” he whispered. He lingered a second too long, too eager to touch her soft skin; she let out an untroubled sigh, rolling into his touch. He couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but a smile crept to his face nonetheless. Maybe he’d just kickstarted her journey back to reality from her dreams.

After loosening the grip of the sheets around his bare legs, he rose from the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress and disturb her. He padded over to the attached bathroom and the cold marbled floor tile sent a brief shock up his spine at the stark contrast to the warmth in his bed. Running a hand through his wild curls, Austin paused to take a look at himself in the mirror after he turned on the shower. A chuckle rumbled in his throat as his eyes wandered over the small red love bites littering his collarbones and neck, not regretting a single one. Sure, he’d probably have to wear a sweater to avoid the endless teasing that his family would inevitably dish out at dinner tonight, but he didn’t mind having the little reminders on his chest. They might as well have been little I Love You’s tattooed to his skin.

He’d already showered and wrapped a towel around his waist by the time she woke. He could see his angel’s eyes idly blinking open as he flipped on the light in their shared large walk-in closet adjacent to the steamed-up bathroom. Austin’s tall dresser sat at the back with a variety of his toiletries--deodorant, cologne, jewelry, etc.--sitting on top.

Despite having an only slightly smaller array of clothes in his wardrobe, he’d opted for the right side of the closet as it had fewer racks and less shelf space so she could have more room for her things even if some of the space was left barren. He’d joked that it was just an excuse to spoil her with a shopping spree, and she laughingly insisted that she didn’t need him to buy her any more clothes because 1) she could afford it herself, and 2) she didn’t need more items in her wardrobe.

He’d ended up doing it anyway. What? He loved spoiling her! Besides, he loved the way she looked in baby blue, and her wardrobe had frighteningly little of that color, so he just had to rectify that. And what’s a baby blue wrap dress without a pair of strappy heels and some pretty lingerie to match underneath?

The light breeze from the window cooled his wet skin, the water droplets on his shoulders stealing his body heat suddenly sending chills down his spine in a gentle reminder that autumn was in the air.

He could hear the blankets shift in the bedroom as she stretched her rested muscles. The yawn she let out in the master echoed off the hardwood floors. He busied himself putting on a pair of black boxers before throwing his towel over the open closet door so it could dry.

Just as he reached for his deodorant, a soft pair of lips slowly caressed his shoulder, a warm contrast to the chilled droplets dripping down his shoulder blades. The same smile from earlier returned to his face when her small hands wrapped around his bicep and opposite shoulder as she peppered his muscles with gentle kisses.

“Mornin’, baby,” he rasped, pleased with her greeting. He loved the feeling of her lips on his skin. Her hands slid down his back and slowly snaked around his bare waist, engulfing him in her loving embrace. Austin could feel the soft silky fabric of her robe pressed into his body, and when he looked down, sure enough, the flowy sleeves were covering her forearms. Dammit. He’d thought that she’d get up in the nakedness she’d slept in and give him more of a show this morning. His digits wound around her wrist near his belly button, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the delicate flesh.

“Mornin’,” she hummed.

“Sleep okay?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. She was worn out by the time they finally slept in their bed--he’d made damned sure of that. He could picture the heat rising in her cheeks as she tried to hide her small smile.

“Mmm mhm,” she sighed. She wasn’t fully coherent yet; it always took her a while to rouse her faculties completely. Her hands untangled from his as she pulled away a little, allowing her fingers to graze his sides and tease the waistband of his boxers. He craned his neck to get a better look at her over his shoulder, meeting her half lidded gaze.

“Yeah, slept real good,” she added, the sleep lining her voice gradually sloughing off with each word. The corner of her mouth rose to a half smile and he couldn’t determine if it was from contentment or mischief.

Her soft touches to his back suddenly traveled lower until she pinched his ass with a chuckle.

“Hey!” he yelped, not missing her cheeky smirk when he turned to her with a grin. Definitely mischief in her eyes, then. What was she up to this morning?

He snatched her small figure into his arms, pressing her closely to his chest with his hands firmly around her waist, eyes raking over her robe clad form--the tie hung loosely on her hips, the purple silky fabric barely covering her breasts and convening just below her belly button.

“Watch it, young lady,” he playfully chastised. Her head cocked to the side, eyebrow quirked up, and before he knew it her hands were on his butt again with a gentle squeeze before settling at the bottom of his spine. That brought a full laugh to his chest. “Is that all I am to you? A piece of ass?”

“Mmm, yeah,” she giggled. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes and plant a kiss on her nose. Contentment swelled in his chest--nothing could possibly ruin this moment, ass objectification and all. His heart made a silent plea to the universe: please stop time and let us freeze this moment forever. Let us frame it and put it on our mantle and revisit on cold nights and melancholy mornings. All of the mundanity of waking up and getting ready together… it pleased him to no end, gifted from the gods. He took a mental screenshot of it all: the lighting, the cool air, the soft silk beneath his fingertips, her mussed hair, the way her eyes sparkled with a little sleep lingering in the corners, and her soft kissable lips smiling up at him.

Her hand trailed lightly across his side and stomach before softly caressing the marks she’d left last night, clearly proud of her handiwork--or would it be mouth-iwork? A quiet sigh left his lips as she delicately pressed an agonizingly unhurried kiss to a love bite on his clavicle. She maintained her pace and made her way up to plant another one to his pulse. His grip on her hips tightened marginally, but she seemed to take notice and it only spurred her on.

He sucked in a breath, eyes closing to better focus on her touch. She raised up on her toes to press one more to his jawbone right below his ear, her hand settling at the base of his throat just above his collarbones. It was a gentle touch, not an ounce of pressure applied. To anyone else, her hand rested there to provide balance while on her tiptoes, but he knew better. It was heavenly. A low hum reverberated in his chest at the contact.

Yes, please, keep going, darlin’.

Her satin lips ghosted along his jawline, stopping just short of his own mouth. His eyes fluttered open. Her other hand made its way from his back to his face at a leisurely pace before her thumb grazed over his supple lower lip and lightly gripped his chin. She pulled him closer to her ever so slightly, and he prepared to meet her halfway with a kiss when she suddenly halted his advances with a firm, albeit gentle, push at the base of his neck.

“Mm. I’m gonna go take a shower,” her eyes shot down to his lips, her sensual body language contradicting the nonchalance in her voice as though she wasn’t just barely feeling him up and working him into a tizzy.

His sweet, innocent little angel had swapped out her harp and halo for a pitchfork and horns.

Oh, so we’re teasing now, huh? She dropped back down to her regular height, retracting her hands and leaving Austin hanging. “I feel positively filthy after last night.” Her salacious tone dripped over him like honey, and he chewed on his lip.

Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wearing her halo now. That devilish look told him everything he needed to know: she wanted to ditch the innocence and wings and do a little sinning.

“Filthy, huh?” he shot back, just as insinuating. She threw him a wink when she started strutting away. Before she could get too far, he brought his hand down and gave her ass a quick swat, sending a smirk of his own in her direction. She giggled at the contact as she sauntered out of the closet, aware of his eyes burning along her curves. Accentuating the sway in her delicious hips just a little more to keep his attention--she knew exactly how to drive him mad.

Her manicured fingers scraped down the door frame as she finally left his sight, but, like a show girl leaving the stage, she teased her audience by theatrically tossing her robe in front of the closet door, leaving everything to his raunchy imagination.

Little devil. He shook his head and chewed on his cheek with a chuckle. They both loved the game, the chase, and light teasing had quickly become one of their favorite ways to keep each other on their toes. They loved to sprinkle it between mundane tasks. One moment would be completely innocent, and then sexually charged for a split second before settling back to normal. It wasn’t so much that they’d dismiss the moment as it was that neither would openly acknowledge it--there’d be plenty of time for that later. The build-up was part of the fun.

The low roar of the water cascading from the showerhead and hitting the tiled floor pulled him from his thoughts and signaled him to actually get ready for the day. He settled on a navy jumper over a white tee and jeans to accommodate the October weather. The sleeves were a little long on him, which was mildly surprising considering his long lanky limbs, but he didn’t mind. The closely knit fabric draped comfortably over his arms in a loose fit that made it feel homier and more autumnal, even if they did engulf his palms. His fingers were long enough, anyway, that it didn’t really cause a problem for him.

He ran a hand through his hair as he padded into the bathroom again where he could hear a light melody coming from the shower. She often hummed subconsciously when completing simple mindless tasks.

Ah, he thought, ‘must be a hair-washing and leg-shaving day.

She continued her light humming as he brushed his teeth, leaning into the white countertop as he hovered over the sink. He recognized the tune, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Where had he heard it before? His brow furrowed as he tried to place it, following the melody’s notes and beat with his head. Suddenly, it dawned on him.

“Are you singing the song from the Chick Fil A commercials?” he laughed out, minty suds still frothing on his tongue. Her musical giggle echoed off the tile and sent a spark of warmth to his chest.

“It’s stuck in my head!” she confirmed before wordlessly continuing the same series of notes and pauses. He spits and rinses the white bubbles from his toothbrush.

“I thought the cottage cheese one was your favorite,” he teased, recalling the time he’d caught her absentmindedly singing it to herself in the bread aisle at the store.

Without hesitation, she proceeded to belt the jingle.

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!” she sang the phrase twice, and he couldn’t hold back his snicker. “Satisfying and fresh, so creamy and delish!”

“Noooooo!” he dramatically lamented, cheeks hurting from his grin, as he grabbed the mousse from the drawer to style his hair--it’s so unruly when he doesn’t put product in it.

“It’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now!” he jested as he spread the mousse on his hands.

Even with the frosted shower door obscuring her naked form, he knew she was doing a little dance as she got to the last line, drawing out the last note in a satisfying finish with another light giggle as he raked the product through his curls. “Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese!”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, ya know that?” he chuckled again.

“Oh, c’mon you love it!”

“Hm. Suuuurrrreeee.”

Truth is, he did. Not the jingles--he hated that they’d always pop into his head at the most inconvenient times and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of them for hours. But he loved how she teased him and made him laugh. He loved listening to her voice, even if it wasn’t always perfectly on-key with the songs. He loved laughing with her. She really was his best friend, and if that meant enduring a few annoying jingles, then so be it. Not that he’d tell her that--she’d never let him hear the end of it. Then again, knowing him, he’d probably love that, too.

God, he was so whipped.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them as he manipulated his wavy locks to look presentable, allowing a couple stray strands to coil and fall loose on his forehead in a Superman curl. After wiping his fingers of the product, he pulled his hand over his chin and the faint goatee he’d been sporting over the past couple days. Was it time for a shave? It was getting a little longer than he normally kept it, but he found that the look was, if you’ll pardon the pun, growing on him. He grabbed his electric razor from the drawer and ran it over the hair, deciding it best to trim it just a little to a short manageable stubble. He pulled back to admire his work.

Yeah, he looked good. A bit of pride inflated his ego--more than it probably should have, but he’d never admit it. Maybe it was just because he woke up happy on a beautiful morning with his gorgeous girl and some light teasing after a night of mind-blowing sex. Who wouldn’t be on top of the world?

His finger guns shot himself in the mirror with a wink as he clicked his tongue.

Yeah, I still got it.

A snort sounded behind him, and he quickly dropped his hands as saw his lover stepping out of the shower with her hand covering her mouth to prevent her full laugh from escaping. He hadn’t even noticed her turn off the water and wrap the towel around her torso.

Oh, damn.

Ego: deflated.

Heat flooded his cheeks, crawling into his ears and setting them ablaze. Suddenly, his jumper almost felt a little too warm. There was no salvaging the situation. He’d been caught doing the most uncool thing a person could do, so he settled on sending her a sheepish grin and clasping his hands in front of him. Quite awkwardly.

“Oh my god,” she started, a laugh edging its way into her voice, “I can’t believe you just did that!” she giggled, shaking her head with a sweet sigh. “Oh, you’re absolutely adorable.” She quickly added the last part, eyes taking in his slowly relaxing stance.

“Yeah, I guess you can say I’m the epitome of cool.” He ran his hand over the nape of his now burning neck. Better to laugh it off with some sarcasm than to do nothing.

“Oh definitely,” she affirmed as she turned away, passing gracefully into the closet and leaving him with his embarrassment.

He spared himself another tentative glance in the mirror, a quiet chuckle bubbling up his throat. He shrugged it off, taking a couple minutes to adjust his sweater and the gold necklace under it before heading back to the master bedroom.

He didn’t expect to lean on the doorframe or watch her for so long, but he’d become so enamored with the scene before him that he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

She sat on their bed, towel discarded and traded in for her underwear: a blue bra and panty set from their shopping spree. Droplets from her wet hair dusted her shoulders as she leaned over to grab her beige bottle of lotion, depositing a few pumps of it into her palm. She’d just spread it on her hands and began rubbing it over her forearms and shoulders when she made eye contact with him through her lashes.

“You gonna keep leering at me and leaning on the door like a slut, or is there something I can do for you?” she baited, a smirk lining her lips. The lightness in her tone let him know she didn’t mind--if anything, this was another way for her to goad him into some kind of trap where she’d leave him hanging again.

Not this time.

“No, but there’s something I can do for you,” he said casually, pulling his lips between his teeth as he stalked towards her, not breaking eye contact. Her hands stuttered their circular motions on her triceps. She raised her brows, expecting him to follow up his statement with some kind of action.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the lotion. She furrowed her brow for a moment as her eyes flitted from the bottle, back to him, then down at her legs briefly before the realization hit her. She glanced up to meet his eyes as she nodded.

“Go ahead, Mr. Finger Guns.” He looked down and shook his head with a grin.

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm.”

He sank to his knees and settled to the floor at her feet, slowly dragging the back of his index finger up her shin and over knee as he reached for the lotion. He’d nearly put a dollop of the creamy stuff on his hands when--

“Oh hold on,” she said abruptly, reaching out to his wrists and tugging at the navy sleeves nearly swallowing his hands. “You’re going to get it all over your sweater!” Her nimble fingers folded the sleeves back once, twice into a neat cuff. The proper length a sleeve should be. “There.” She patted his wrists before setting hers back on the bed.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured. His ocean eyes flicked up to hers momentarily for permission as he picked up the lotion again, and when she nodded, he put a few pumps on his hands before turning his attention to the work at hand.

Gingerly, he took her left ankle in his hand, spreading the moisturizer over the back of her freshly shaved calf, his fingers splaying over the skin and applying just enough pressure to spread the satiny salve and massage the muscle simultaneously.

He leaned forward with a feather light kiss to the inside of her knee before slipping his left hand over it toward her hip. Her breath hitched and he had to hold back a smirk. She wasn’t the only one who knew how to put on a show.

His right hand slid up the back of her leg as the other one guided her knee over his shoulder, the movement reminiscent of last night. He knew it and she knew it--he could tell by the nearly imperceptible shudder in her breath. His eyes fell shut on their own accord as he brushed his cheekbone up the soft flesh of her knee and inner thigh as his hands roamed the expanse of her skin.

He easily recalled her whiny pleas, the way she rolled her hips into his face and pulled his hair, and her taste on his tongue with his name falling from hers in a prayer. For a brief moment, he debated doing it all again: giving in to the sinful thoughts running rampant through his head and ending their little game earlier than expected.

But where’s the fun in that?

Instead, he languidly kissed his way down to her ankle and put a respectful distance between them. Clearing the sexually charged air for only a moment seemed necessary as he resupplied from the bottle and repeated the sensual process on her other leg.

Just as slow. Just as intimate.

When he reached her knee, he spared a glance up at his lover, hoping for some flash of pleasure to cross her features as she looked to the heavens in bliss, a smile, a sigh, a gasp--any morsel of praise that he could greedily drink down and guard close to his heart. Instead, he met her adoring gaze, which was just as delicious. His soft smile met hers. A tiny palm cupped his cheek, and again his eyes fell shut as he leaned into her soft touch, enjoying the way her thumb tenderly brushed over his skin.

He pressed his lips into the inside of her wrist with as much devotion and endearment he had in his old, romantic, smitten soul. I love you, he nuzzled each word into her skin, praying she could feel him branding the phrase into his lips and sealing it with a kiss. I love you, I love you, I love you.

His fingers continued their work kneading circles into the meat of her thigh, over the almost indiscernible hills and valleys that he didn’t know were cellulite, exploring the entirety of her skin. Despite knowing each and every curve by heart, he wanted to map every inch of her--each scar, stretch mark, mole, and freckle. Again and again and again.

Right up to the hem of her panties, that is.

He pulled away from her reluctantly, his hands trailing back down to her ankles before he went back to the bottle for just a little more. The way her eyes kept flicking over his kneeling form and how she subconsciously gnawed on her lower lip was not lost on him. Good, that meant he was doing his job right.

He held her gaze intently as he closed the distance between them, his fingers splaying their way over her hips--he took the moment to gently lean her back, teasing her with the close proximity of their lips, but keeping her pressed into the mattress. His touch traveled across her stomach, her waist, and her sides, his thumbs grazing just barely beneath the band of her bra. She squirmed underneath him, sliding her hands up his shoulders and to the nape of his neck, a fire sparking in her eyes.

Maybe he’d indulge a little after all.

Her lips were magnetic: beckoning him in slowly before colliding with a passion that left him unable to pull away. As they kissed with practiced perfection, he allowed his slick hand to graze over her decolletage for a fleeting moment. It found its home at the base of her neck, his long fingers wrapping around and his thumb gently pressing the remaining lotion on his hands into her skin with a back-and-forth motion.

She breathed a sigh into his mouth, chasing his lips a little as he pulled away. His tall body still hovered over her small one, trapping her between him and the bed. A small smile graced her mouth, her eyes scanning over his face. Happy, content.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked quietly, still stroking the skin on her neck.

“Just you.” She brought her hand up to his hair, threading her digits through the curls in a loose hold. “Why? You thinking about something, too?”

He breathed out a laugh. “You really wanna know?” his voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, throwing in just a little of the southern drawl he knew she loved. “You sure?”

Her eyes flitted to his lips again as she chewed on her lower lip. He lowered himself down to her ear achingly slow. He could feel her chest rise and fall a little faster, each breath just a little shallower than the last. He had her right where he wanted her.

“Only Daisy’s Cottage Cheese will do!”

She rolled her eyes and playfully scoffed, “Oh, fuck off!”

“I told you it was going to get stuck in my head!” he laughed as he stood up, pulling her with him. He permitted himself another moment of soaking up her presence, tangling their fingers together and kissing her knuckles.

A blush crept into her cheeks and she bashfully avoided his adoring eyes by fiddling with his makeshift cuffs. She pulled her hands free of his and unfolded his sleeves, allowing the fabric to fall loosely around his hands again.

“I like it like this. It’s just…” she met his gaze again, her hand pressing gently into his chest and playing with his loose collar. “It’s adorable.”

That signature smirk spread on her mouth when she spoke again. “Plus, it’s long enough to keep you from doing anymore finger guns.”

“It was one time!”

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refiwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Close Call

Pairing: Fred Weasley x GN! Reader

Summary: In the midst of the Hogwarts battle, (Y/N) desperately tries to find Fred.

Prompt used: “You could’ve gotten yourself killed! You could’ve— fuck! You scared the shit outta me.”

Word count: 1.3k

Warning/s: mentions of injury, wounds, death, some angst? profanity

Note: I just wanted to see how I’d do with angst

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Your heart pounded in your ears, dust filling up your lungs as explosions went off here and there, what once was a peaceful hallway of Hogwarts now littered with rubble and dead bodies, neither you could decipher if it was a death eater or a fellow student. Your gaze looked around, seeing students fighting for their lives, for this school, for their friends.

You felt your heart clench, looking back, finding a death eater hot on your trail.

Your eyes widened.

“Stupefy!” You shout with a flick of your wand they were sent back flying towards the wall with a crack, body landing with a thud. You bit your lip and continued to your destination to reach Fred Weasley.

“Once this is over promise me, we’ll go far away from here.” You whisper into Fred’s chest, as his back rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“We will, love. But we’d have to go back often to visit the joke shop.” Fred laughs, the rumble in his chest making you smile even if you were about to go to an all-out wizarding war.

You pulled away to see him looking down at you with the same gaze he had ever since you said yes when he asked you to be his. Your thoughts clouded with the memories of starting all over again at Hogwarts and how you met Fred and the many adventures that came within the very halls and rooms you stood in now.

Fred’s hand came upon your cheek, leaving a long kiss on your forehead.

You both glance up to see the protective barrier around Hogwarts slowly get torn apart.

You grasp at his coat as his other hand squeezed your arm.

“Please, promise me you’ll stay safe.”

“I will love, you too alright? Don’t want you goin’ away now that I want to marry you.” He spoke. You didn’t know if it was true or if it was just something to hold onto, to have something to fight for, to expect after the war.

“Fred Weasley—“ You started but he already had a smile on his face “What? I’m being honest darling, no jokes this time around.”

You shake your head but nodded. “What do you say?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

He was definitely not joking; your heart skipped a beat. “I will.”

Fred’s smile was everything. However, your moment was cut short.

“They’re here!” A voice shouted.

You and Fred stared at each other, fear already seeping in your bones.

“I love you, Fred Weasley.”

“I love you more, (Y/N) Weasley.”

With a peck on your lips, you both returned to your assigned positions.

You got lost few minutes into the war as death eaters rushed the place, you helped a few students along the way, protecting and letting them stay in a safe place.

You looked frantically around, hands almost shaking. You spotted in the corner of your eye a mess of ginger hair running through the hallway.

You wasted no time, dashing through rubbles to reach the ginger.

“Hey!” You screamed, catching his attention, making him look back at you.

Only, it wasn’t Fred, it was his twin brother George.

“George!”

“(Y/N)!”

You both met in the middle, now you could see George’s face, full of panic. “George I’m glad you’re fine.” You manage to word out. “Same to you.” He spoke breathless.

Then your mind went to his older twin.

“W-where’s—“ George seemed to know your question already.

“I don’t know (Y/N).” Your heart stopped.

“We were fighting alongside each other then the explosion- I couldn’t see anything.”

“Fuck— where’s the last time you saw him?” You desperately asked, throat tightening.

“Up at the towers.”

You nod, gathering all the hope that he was still there, alive, fighting.

“(Y/N), you know he could handle it, but please stay safe I can’t risk losing you both.” George pleaded. You nod, giving him a quick embrace.

“Stay safe as well George, go find the others, we’ll be back with you soon.” You affirmed.

Running up to the towers, you saw lifeless bodies around, as much as you hated seeing it you had to see if Fred wasn’t one of them. To your relief, he wasn’t. There was still hope.

The sounds of spells rang in your ears, finding where it was coming from until a body flew in one of the hallways.

You had to take the chance. Rushing towards the commotion, another explosion sounded, dust temporarily blinding you but then a sight of another ginger hair caught your eye.

You couldn’t even begin the state you were in right now, dirt all over your face, rugged clothes, hands shaking as you held your wand. Running towards the scene the dust cleared but there was no one there.

“Bye bye!”

Your eyes widened, turning to face a death eater whose wand already pointed at you, flicking her wand with the unforgivable curse.

Everything fell in slow motion.

You saw a glimpse of Fred behind the woman, hitting her first with the curse which made her froze and piece by piece she disappeared.

Until you gasped for air, feeling all over your body not believing you had managed to escape that if not for Fred.

You were alive.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed! You could’ve— fuck! You scared the shit outta me.” Fred almost shouted almost in anger filled with fear, going towards you and engulfing you in an embrace.

“F-Fred.” You murmured; he responds by nodding.

“Yes, (Y/N) it’s me, it’s me Fred, I’m alive.” He convinced you.

You cried as he held you in his arms again.

Your body shook in his hold. Afraid of letting go of each other as if the other might disappear at any given moment.

You sobbed onto his coat, and he had tears in his eyes.

“I- I saw you there— I thought I was too late.” Fred shakily said.

“I wanted to see where you were— George said— you were still up here.” You said in between sobs. “I thought—“ silencing yourself, not being able to say the full sentence.

looking at your face. wiping away all the dirt before placing a kiss on your lips. “I’m here, love. I’m alive.” He repeats over and over with a kiss.

“Please l-let’s go.” You suggested meeting back with the others.

You both never let go of each other’s hand as you made your way back down through stairs and hallways. Finally hearing familiar voices, you gripped onto Fred’s hand as you made your way to the great hall. You gasped, seeing all the familiar faces now met with death as they lay on stretchers.

“Fred! (Y/N)!” The voice of George shouted, making some look at you.

“George!” Fred says, both of you walking over to the rest of the Weasley family.

The Weasley twins shared an embrace, fresh tears in their eyes.

“Bloody hell I thought—” George shakily laughs, patting his older brother’s back.

“Gonna take more that those uglies to kill me Georgie.” Fred smiles.

“My boys!” Molly Weasley says aloud, going over to them and giving them a hug.

You smiled, tearing up as well. “(Y/N) dear, come here.” Mrs. Weasley pulled you in a hug.

Pulling away, you were met with Fred who was looking at you and he manages to grab your hand, you pulled him in a hug. “Don’t ever leave my sight again.” You say.

“Not in a bazillion years, love.”

After gathering and meeting with everyone, your heart leapt as you heard the war was over and Voldemort was finally defeated.

“You hear that, (Y/N)?” Fred squeezes your waist. You breathed in relief as you once again got to see the sunlight as everyone stood outside. “I did.”

Fred holds your hand up to his, kissing the back of your hand. “We’d better start planning then.”

“Did you ask her?” George piped up from beside Fred.

You laugh at the other twin “Wait you knew?”

“Believe me it’s all he’d talk about before all this.” George said as Fred tried to get him for exposing him.

“Talk about what?” Mrs. Weasley overheard.

Fred looks at you and the rest of his family with Harry and Hermione.

He interlaced your hands with his and breathed deeply with his signature smile.

“We’re getting married.”

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mochie85 · 2 years ago

Note

I just read Her and ugh I love your writing! Would you think about writing Loki having a dream about Thanos kidnapping the reader/wife and/or their kid?

To Have and To Hold - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist | My Complete Masterlist

Summary: Things take a turn for the worst as you continue to make decisions that's best for you. A/N: I'm so glad you enjoyed "Her," Nonny. I had a lot of fun writing that one. Thank you so much 🥰. Pairing: Loki x OFC/Reader Word Count: 2.5K Tags/Warnings: Lots of angst. There's a dream sequence where Thanos is basically threatening a child's life. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

“Darling…I’m sorry.” The first words Loki said to you. The only words he said when he came inside your hospital room. You took one look at him and you cried. You couldn’t keep the emotion in anymore.

You covered your face with your hands as salted tears seeped through your fingers. Loki couldn’t keep it in either. The sight of you broken and hurt on the hospital bed left him feeling helpless and despondent.

A strong sense of defeat and weakness at not being able to help you, or the child, in your time of need. The emotion was so strong. It crumpled up inside him, buckling his knees as he reached for you on your bed. He should’ve been there for you. He should’ve cared for you. Supported you. Instead, the last words you said to each other before you left were ones of judgment and fear.

“My darling girl. I’m s-so very sorry.” He cried into your joined hands. He held it close to his lips, weeping on his knees.

It went on for a while. The two of you were sniffling and teary. Sometimes a new wave of guilt and tears would wash over both of you and the crying and wailing would restart all over again. Neither of you said anything other than apologies or promises that everything will be ok.

At one point, you both had shared the gurney, and you were cradled into his arms – careful of all the tubes and needles that were still attached to you. His hands wandered your arms and your face. But he didn’t dare touch your stomach the entire night.

Loki took care of you the best he could. He moved you to his room which had better views of the river and a larger en suite. A bullet wound through the chest was painful. You didn’t realize all the movements that relied on your pectoral muscles. Moving your arms. Turning to your side. Stretching your back. It was all an ordeal.

It wasn’t long before news of your loss traveled throughout the compound. It was one thing to find out that you were dating the god of mischief but then to find out you were pregnant with his baby, and then lose it while on a mission. The gossip mills wouldn’t stop churning.

The most awful rumors circulated like you were all back in high school and that somehow the knowledge of your life was currency for higher status within the gossiping ranks.

“She should’ve never been with him, to begin with.” “I bet you she only wanted to trap him.” “I bet you he’s the one that pulled the trigger.” “Guys, can’t you see they lost a baby? Give them a break!” “She should’ve never gone on that mission knowing what she did!”

And although they were quiet and nice to your face. Inside they were watching like a hawk. Mentally taking notes of your expressions or actions. Anything to report back to the gaggling circle of chicken heads.

You had to stop Loki on numerous occasions from getting into an altercation with some of the other agents. The more daring ones gossiping right in front of the both of you.

Both Steve and Tony had to set new guidelines on romantic involvement within the team. As well as castigate those who spoke ill on your behalf.

Luckily, it was easy for the team to rally behind you and Loki. Once they got over the initial shock, everyone knew that you two were good for each other and that you two were stronger together and will help each other through the loss.

The loss. It was so easy to forget your lie. It was so easy to forget that you still carried the baby within you. As long as you didn’t outright lie to Loki, he wouldn’t suspect any falsehoods within you.

You couldn’t keep up the charade for long. Soon, morning sickness had set upon you. Hard. You couldn’t even get up some mornings it felt like the whole world was spinning. Luckily you could blame it on your injury.

You couldn’t, however, blame your ever-growing belly on your injury. You needed a plan. A way out.

Loki was called away on a brief mission. Two days tops. Some local arms dealer was making a sale and was finally getting apprehended.

Loki had decided to go only because he saw you getting better. You were able to lift your arms without wincing in pain. The nausea was still there, but you couldn’t help it with all the medication you’d been taking.

So, he agreed to this quick mission. As soon as he returned, he planned to talk to you about what happened. Or failed to happen. A family.

He loved you. He knew that. He was hoping that you still loved him too. You might not have gotten the family now but going through this ordeal made him realize that he did want one. And he wanted it with you.

Ever since you were discharged into his care, Loki was operating on automatic. He had two rules for himself and was trudging through existence, barely living.

First rule: Always watch out for Violet. To take care of you. Be whatever you need. Whether that be a masseuse, a barista, or your protector from those nasty rumor-mongering agents working in the lower levels. He would always be there for you. To take care of you in your injured state.

Second rule: Give her space. He knew that being there for you, didn’t necessarily mean smothering you. He wanted you to be able to find yourself in this trying time and not be defined as his girlfriend or the mother of his lost child. He wanted you to be you. The person he fell in love with all those months ago.

Being away on this mission granted both of you time away from each other. To assess what you wanted from each other and continue with your lives.

“Hello.” You answered on your phone.

“Dearest.” He said low into the other end of the phone.

“Hey, Loki.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m better. Thank you.” You answered. Loki still felt your hesitation. He felt a chasm forming between the two of you.

“That’s good news. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Listen, darling, I was hoping to speak with you about something when I get back tomorrow.”

“Sure, Loki.” His name on your lips would normally send him in a downward spiral of ecstasy and longing. As of late, he’d long for any type of endearment. A simple ��hun’ or ‘babe’ that you used to call him.

“All right then, I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing great. Thank you.” You lied. And Loki could hear it in your voice. You were not fine. He could sense it. He hung up the phone after a brief goodbye feeling trouble in his heart. This talk was going to be the end of your relationship. He could feel it. Something bad was on the horizon and he wouldn’t know how to cope.

Would there be any way to convince you otherwise? Convince you to stay in this relationship. He loves you. So very much. But is he selfless enough to let you go?

Loki was on one knee, looking down at the ground. He tried not to draw attention to himself as the Mad Titan walked in between his children. “Oh, don’t look so sad, Odinson. You will get your chance to prove yourself to me.” Loki froze. He did not want to look up. To see the death stare of Thanos looming over him. “We will need a guide after all. You are experienced in all things Midgardian. Are you not?” Thanos asked him. Loki nodded his head once, still unable to look him in the eye. “Excellent. We wouldn’t want your wife to be robbed of a husband and your child to be left orphaned, now. Would we?” Thanos asked in a threatening tenor. Loki looked up with horror carved onto his face. He saw Ebony Maw holding you with his telepathic power to restrain you and keep you quiet. While Midnight Proxima held a child in her arms, cradling the babe with recklessness. “I sense great power within this one, Odinson,” Thanos said waving his hand over the tiny babe. Their head- like a small bead under the Titan’s palm. “I sense a new fledgling in the Black Order.” “NOOO!” Loki yelled. His fear and anger pushed him up onto his feet as he pointed his dagger toward Thanos’ throat. Ebony Maw saw to stop Loki from his advances, leaving you unguarded and falling to the ground. “Loki!” You cried as Thanos picked you up by your neck. Your feet dangling beneath you. With his other hand, Thanos picked up your tiny babe from Proxima. “Choose, wisely. For your impudence, you can only keep one.” Loki’s eyes went wild. His breathing got rough and labored as he tried to move his frozen hand holding the dagger. Trying to inch it closer to Thanos’ throat. You shook your head as sobs wracked your heaving form. Your neck- caged in the firm grasp of the monster. “Loki. Loki, please. L-look at me. Look at me.” You whispered with your last breath. His eyes traveled to yours. They were red from crying, but now red from the ever-tightening grasp of the brute before him. “I love you, Loki.” You whispered. “Keep them safe.” “No. No. No!” Loki continued as he heard the snap of your neck.

Loki sat up from his horrible nightmare. The sheets surrounding him were drenched in the cold sweat that overtook his body. He reached for his phone ready to call you but looking at the current time, momentarily paused. You would be asleep by now and he did not want to trouble you any further.

This nightmare was by far, one of the worst he’s ever experienced. It was almost as clear and vivid as the waking world he was in now.

It troubled him wholly.

Amid the sorrow and fear, the only good that came out of that dream, a silver lining if you will, was that you both still had your baby. Loki was heartbroken that he never got a chance to see his child. To see whether they had your eyes or his lips.

If what Strange theorized was true about dreams and multiverse realities. Then somewhere out there…Oh, Norns.

It was like his other self was calling out to him, pleading for assistance. As if your other self was calling out to him, to remind him that you loved him.

He had to see you. Had to hold you in his arms and assure himself that you were there.

He got up and went straight to Rogers, time be damned. He needed to see you and no one was gonna stop him.

*~*Earlier that night*~*

You hung up the phone with Loki. Your heart felt like sharp vines were squeezing it. Winding tighter and tighter as the thorns bled your weak heart. You hated lying to Loki. You hated being in this complex. You hated the people. You hated the gossip. You hated yourself!

“Heimdall, I know you can see me.” You whispered out into the empty bedroom. “I know that you are powerful. And honest. And vigilant.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me young one.” He responded. As if you were transported, your surroundings changed to that of the gilded temple where he presides. “But I honor your sincerity and effort. What can I do for you?” You stood there not knowing how to ask or where to start.

“Have you…”

“Yes. I have seen all. I know all.” He says as his eyes dart down briefly to your abdomen.

“Does Odin know?”

“No, he does not. He has not asked. He has no inkling of what has transpired. Only that you are a significant part of his son’s life.” You nodded at Heimdall’s information. “Else, you would have been whisked away to the halls of Valaskjalf, don’t you agree?”

“Thank you for your discretion.”

“You did not come here to thank me for my silence. What is it that you wish to ask of me?”

“Shouldn’t you know already? You are the god of foresight.”

“I will have you ask, just the same.” He said patiently. You fidgeted just for a little while longer. The last month cramming through your mind like a fast-forward movie. “I can see why he loves you. You are strong-willed. And guileful, considering your plan so far.”

“I need safe passage. I need to hide from Loki.”

“Why?”

“Because he cannot know I still have this child.”

“Why not?”

“If he found out, then Odin will find out and the child will be taken from us.”

“Do you not trust your prince to defend you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why the inquisition?”

“Because I see things little one. I can see the past. The present. And the future. But what I cannot see is your reasoning. Why do you think your prince can not defend you?”

“BECAUSE I’M NOT WORTH IT, OKAY!? You happy?!” you shouted back at him. “I asked him to keep our relationship a secret because I knew he didn’t want to tie himself down with someone like me. Those nosy gossipmongers proved that when they found out about us and just started circling like hungry vultures. Did you see the toll it took on him? Having to defend me constantly from them.

“When he found out I was pregnant? He didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. The only reason why he’s with me now is out of guilt and duty. When he comes home tomorrow he would undoubtedly give me the ‘talk’ and he would break off all ties with me. So I’m giving him what he wants.” You stood there looking down to Heimdall’s feet, unable to look him in his golden eyes. Tears welled up in your eyes at what you had just confessed, not only to Heimdall but, to yourself.

“Yes. You two are a lot alike.” Heimdall said after a brief pause. “Gather your things. Small belongings. Call upon me when you’re ready. I will take you where you want to go.” He agreed.

“And you won’t tell him? Loki? You’ll keep it a secret?”

“It is considered treason to lie outright to a member of the royal family. Even more ludicrous to lie to the god of mischief.” He said matter-of-factly. You looked ashamed at having asked him to do something so heinous. “But I will shield you as much as I can.”

In a blink of an eye, you were back in your shared bedroom. Your heart beat fast as you moved about, gathering your things in a small duffel bag.

You looked around his room and noticed some books in the corner. Parenting and pregnancy books long forgotten and shoved to the side to collect cobwebs. You grabbed the topmost book thinking it might be helpful to get some info for yourself, now that Bruce will not be on hand to help you. After grabbing items from your old room, you called on Heimdall again and he transported you out of the compound.

⬅️Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 ➡️

All Taglist: @alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @crimson25 @el-zef @fictive-sl0th @goldencherriess @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kellatron55 @kkdvkyya @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbs @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @salempoe @theaudacitytowrite @user13cabs @vbecker10 @vickie5446 @wheredafandomat @xorpsbane

TH&TH Taglist: @princess-asgard @k-writer17 @slytherclaw1227 @thomase1 @bruh-anator3000 @highkeysimpingforloki @vanicahgg @trickster-maiden @staygoldsquatchling02 @aeanya @kittiowolf210 @for-hearthand-home @fluffybunnyu @leahjean @koagasm @fernk21

#writing ideas #fic prompt #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki angst #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki fandom #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki x you #loki x reader #anonymous request #unplanned pregnancy #loki series #marvel fanfic

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relaxandthirst · 3 years ago

Text

Too Late

✄ ≈ warnings: heavy dark content implications (yandere behaviors, implied imprisonment, obsession), creep behavior, a recipe for Stockholm Syndrome, drabble

characters: Childe, Thoma

a/n: no nsfw smut this time around. wanted to try a different style and ngl, I slightly creeped myself out writing this. so major trigger warning

—

You thought it was an innocent relationship. It was - at first. But those small warnings that would creep up behind your back and around your shoulder. You shook your head every time to dispose of it. Like sweeping dust under a rug, because you convinced yourself that there was no way he can be anything but sweet and caring since the beginning. Well.. you were wrong. And now— you’re hiding for your life.

—

Childe

“Come on, open the door please?”

You hear the door knob jiggle as Childe desperately tries to coax you out of the room.

“I don’t want to argue with you. Just please let me in so we can talk about it.”

His words cloud your thoughts. His voice is alluring and seeps with honey. He sounds sincere.

“I know you’re scared, I’m just trying to help you see that you don’t have to be scared. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

You sit and stare at your lap, absorbing whatever you hear - almost falling for it. Convincing yourself that maybe he just had a bad day when he lashed out at you earlier.

A loud slam against the door.

You startle and look up.

“Please darling, my patience is running thin. I just want to talk to you. Let me in.”

“You can talk to me from the other side of this door Childe.” Your voice stern with a hint of shakiness.

An exasperated sigh, “I just want to see your face.”

“You don’t need to do that in order to talk to me.” You shoot back.

He screams and hits the door again. “Why won’t you just let me in?!”

You scramble to look for your phone and call someone for help. Anyone. But your phone isn’t in sight. The realization of horror when you remember your device is sitting on the table in the living room. You sink to the floor. Mind is racing about what to do if he manages to come in.

It’s silent for a few moments and that’s when true dread sets in as you hear your door getting unlocked from the other side.

The door opens and Childe is standing there with a deadpan face.

“We could have done this the easy way.”

You grab the nearest blunt object and lunge it at him. He easily avoids it and approaches you. You back into the wall, grabbing anything and everything to throw at him - hoping it would deter him away.

He grabs your wrist and pulls you up from the floor - tightly grasping it. You wince in response.

He repeats in a softer tone, “I’m not trying to hurt you, I just wanted to talk.”

He brings your palm to his face as he nuzzles in it - side glancing you.

Your breath is shaky. You should have ran when you had the chance. You attempt to yank your hand away and scratch him in the process.

He smiles wickedly and only tightens his grip on your wrist. Childe gently licks your forearm while maintaining eye contact.

You writhe in disgust to which his response is a laughter.

“Looks like I have to make you docile now. I can’t have you running away from me.”

He yanks you into him and drags you somewhere else in the house while you kick and struggle. His forearm is placed in your mouth to reduce your screams to mere muffles. His arm takes the full brunt of your bites. He takes you into a room that you’ve never came across before. You look over to the center of the room.

Is that— a cage?

You look up to Childe in horror as he looks down with that same wicked smirk.

“A songbird should be locked up, don’t you think?”

Thoma

You run into your family’s library room - hiding behind a bookshelf. Your hand is over your mouth, attempting to control your breathing and not let out a sound for the man that’s chasing you.

No one is home. It’s just Thoma and you - for a very long time. No one can help you. You peer around the corner and see his silhouette turn into the room. His boots echo across the tile floors as he walks.

He hums a slow and charming tune as he looks for you. You would have thought it sounded nice, but instead, it sounds terrifying. You slowly make your way around the room hiding behind shelf after shelf, avoiding his gaze and footsteps.

“I know you’re here my love.” His voice reverberates against the walls and floor. Thoma continues humming his tune.

“Why are you running away? Don’t you love me?”

He’s on the other side of the room. Your back is against the side of the shelf while you wait for him to be out of sight before you slide down to the next one. You glance over to the door. It’s so close but so very far away.

“I just want us to be together my love. I love you so much. You did this to me, I can’t live without you.”

Fear creeps into your heart imagining what Thoma could do to you. Everyone trusts him. If he says you’re sick, then everyone would believe him. How could they not? He’s so very trustworthy. Caring. Sweet. You were a fool to not realize that he drips with poison. The kind that wraps itself around you. Like a carnivorous plant waiting for its prey and when it has it—

“There~ you~ are~”

A soft chuckle comes from Thoma.

You turn to the side slowly to be met with his crazed gaze. You yelp and stumble backwards. Thoma catches you by the waist and pulls you into him - staring into his eyes.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you? I haven’t stuck around this long for you to get away from me, my love.”

Your lips quiver. You don’t know who this man is in front of you. Your chest feels tight in a painful way and you attempt to push Thoma away. You manage to break free and run off again. You can’t find the words to talk to him. Your legs want to give out but you have to get away. Your body screams at you to do so. Heavy pants heave from your chest as the front door comes into sight, you reach out for the knob.

A hand comes from behind you to grab your face and pull you back. Your head is against his chest as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Oh- we can’t have that now love. I’m trying to take care of you, you’ll let me, won’t you?”

You grab at his hand to pry it off but his grip remains the same as he drags you further into the house. No matter how many times you pinch, claw, scratch and wail. He won’t let go. He will never let you go.

How many days has it been since then?

Thoma is standing behind you, brushing your hair as you stare into the mirror - unsure of who is looking back at you.

It’s that tune again.

It’s starting to sound comforting to you.

#yandere childe #yandere thoma #thoma genshin #genshin childe #childe #thoma

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meowzfordayz · 2 years ago

Text

picnic

Author’s Note: planned to write an emergency request tn, but this suggestion begged to be written instead. 🙋🏻‍♀️

picnic

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000

CW: none

Suggestion Fulfilled: Imagine having a picnic with Rengoku and it’s fluffy and a perfect date :3

~faqs~

Picnic!Kyojuro who brings up the idea of a picnic date early on in your relationship, but doesn’t actually get around to planning one for ~months

He’s busy, yanno ?? Planning all your other dates 😌

Not that you don’t plan dates as well !! But like- He wants to do everything w/ you

If you give him your weekend, then you’re up at 7am, and in bed by 11pm — not a minute wasted, and still a full 8 hrs of rest 🤓

Picnic!Kyojuro who spends weeks scouting for the ~best spot

Picnic!Kyojuro who knows you like the idea of grass more than the actual experience of it (don’t mind my self insert lmao… grass is itchy), so he’s sure to bring a waterproof tarp (he doesn’t want you to stress about ruining any blankets) + plenty of blankets + cushions

Picnic!Kyojuro who finally decides on a sunlit patch underneath an old willow tree situated in a local nature reservation

Picnic!Kyojuro who almost settled on the field at the local library, but worried that public = less PDA, and why would he consciously deprive himself of PDA ??

Picnic!Kyojuro who loooves PDA 🥰

Subtle and not so subtle — depending on your comfort

Picnic!Kyojuro who rouses your suspicion when he allows you to sleep in on a Saturday: “What time should I set my alarm for?” Alarm? Sunflower, there’s no need for an alarm. 😃 “Excuse me?” 🧐 No alarm! Just rest. 🤗 “Are you feeling okay?” 😶 Of course! 😇 “Okay…”

Suspicious or not, you’re absolutely cashing in on this rare opportunity to NOT watch the sun rise 🙃

Sunrises are glorious, buuut so is SLEEP

Picnic!Kyojuro who silently slips out of bed no later than 7:01am, even tucking your favorite stuffed animal of his under your arm lest you desire cuddles amidst your slumber

Picnic!Kyojuro who texts you

7:04AM Kyojuro: Good morning darling! I am fine! Go back to sleep!

Juuust in case

Picnic!Kyojuro who puts together a hefty basket of everything you often want to buy/eat, but can’t normally justify spending $ on it

For me this means: crisp baguette, fancy cheeses, fresh fruits, avocado, and smoked salmon

(I was going to specify what was in the basket, but food is such a vast, unique, sometimes painful topic, so to each their own imagination 💓)

Picnic!Kyojuro who’s grateful you rarely check the second fridge (c’mon, this man eats — he 100% owns a second fridge), bc that’s where he hid all the goods

~flashback to last night~ I am home❣️ “Do you want help bringing stuff in?” 💪 NO! 😳 “... okay ??” 😆

Picnic!Kyojuro who packs another basket w/ aforementioned tarp, blankets, and cushions; and plates, utensils, and napkins

If you think he’ll let you carry one, then think again 🤠 He knows you’re strong — he just lowkey wants to flex 😎

Carrying ~stuff ≠ Showing off 😤

Picnic!Kyojuro who loads everything into the car’s trunk before returning to wake you

Picnic!Kyojuro who feels somewhat guilty as he presses himself into your back, his heat seeping through your body, slowly nudging you to consciousness

“You said I could sleep in,” you mumble drowsily, grumpiness softened by the touch of his thumb across your cheek

“You did! It is 8am! Time for today’s activity!”

Picnic!Kyojuro who usually has a plethora of activities on the agenda, so you’re borderline hopeful at the lack of plurality in his statement

Maybe you’ll get to nap afterwards ??

I don’t mean to make you seem ungrateful btw 😅 I just hc Kyo to be an enthusiastic go-go-go-! partner… frequently to an endearing fault 🥴

You can always say no! But like… it’s Kyo !! so it’s also just… hard to say no 🥺😂

Picnic!Kyojuro who hands you cozy sweatpants (autumn breeze + autumn sunshine = perfect weather), a cotton shirt, and one of his sweatshirts

Picnic!Kyojuro who—once you’re dressed—happily interlaces his fingers w/ yours, squeezes gently, and leads you to the passenger seat

Picnic!Kyojuro who opens the door for you

Duh

Picnic!Kyojuro who doesn’t tell you where you’re going, drives patient and steady, and chuckles when you inevitably nod off

Picnic!Kyojuro who manages to set everything up while you’re snoozing in the parking lot (for the sake of fanfiction: nobody’s around yet — you’re safe and sound)

Tarp, then blankets, then cushions; colorful tupperware organized neatly by genre (of snackage); forks, knives, and spoons arranged on napkins; speaker placed nearby, his cheesiest playlist queued

“Sweetheart?” he hums quietly, poking at your shoulder; you grunt; “Everything is prepared!”; you huff; “Rise and shine!”; you swat at him, blinking groggily, “I’m hungry.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who grins triumphantly, “Breakfast is mere minutes away!”

Picnic!Kyojuro who pouts when you mutter, “We better not be foraging for it.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who guides you toward the It is a surprise! — sweaty, pulse quickening, gaze darting

Picnic!Kyojuro who nearly panics when you stop abruptly

I should have let them sleep in another hour…

Picnic!Kyojuro who promptly melts with satisfaction when you audibly gasp, Oof as you immediately hug yourself to him, your nose digging into his chest

“When? How?! Why?! KYO!!”

Picnic!Kyojuro whose laughter caresses you warmer than the sun, arms toned as they embrace you, lips promising as they nuzzle against your forehead: “Because I love you.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who sits beside you, introducing the variety of pickings to you, heart bursting at its seams as the contented gleam in your smile only brightens

Picnic!Kyojuro who ~eventually remembers to turn on the speaker

Picnic!Kyojuro who doesn’t bother pretending to be bothered when you grab his bicep This song, Kyo! This song !!!!! and tug him up to dance

Picnic!Kyojuro who dips you so low you feel like he might drop you, but he never does

Picnic!Kyojuro who knows you’re more beautiful than the ombre of foliage blurred in the background of his vision

Picnic!Kyojuro who swears he sees the outline of your soul as he holds you

Picnic!Kyojuro who kisses your earlobe, voice a shy murmur

“Thank you for letting me love you.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who starts planning his proposal (or some grand gesture if you’re not one for marriage) as you whisper

“Thank you for loving me.”

#kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #flame hashira #headcanons #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

Text

— “LESSON LEARNED.” + KATSUKI BAKUGOU.

author’s note(s): a product of me refusing to study and thinking about nothing but bakugou, so enjoy my beautiful little loves and good luck on exams and deadlines if you have them!!

cw: smut, MDNI 18+, degradation, slight size!kink, clit play, tutor!bakugou + sorority girl!reader.

you never quite expected tutor!bakugou to be so rough, so brash. you had heard that his teaching methods were everything other than traditional— kirishima from the frathouse across the street whining to you about the bruises he’d gotten for simply mistaking one fact for another, but you were desperate. you needed to bring your grades up and you’re sure he could do with the extra credit for tutoring you.

tutor!bakugou is not what you expected, you were sure you’d get a whiny little thing like your ex midoriya, who’d shake in his boots upon seeing a darling little sorority girl like you. but bakugou is big, tattooed arms barely restrained by his tight black t-shirt, glasses low on his nose, ruby eyes darkened with concentration. he barely bats an eyelid when you enter the study room. “get out yer material, you’ve got a lotta shit to cover. s’a miracle you’re even still here.” he grunts when you sit next to him, again, barely batting an eyelid.

are the rumours about tutor!bakugou true? surely someone this good looking can’t t be a virgin, couldn’t have never had a partner or had a one night stand. he looks too sinful to be this good— to be a top student with nothing but pretty grades and a squeaky clean reputation, especially in college. so for an hour or so, you put him to the test with a plan you might come to regret. you whine his name when confused, lean over tutor!bakugou to get a ‘better’ look at the material, slide your hand up his thigh and play dumb— so you seem excited when getting something right.

slowly but surely you chip away at the blonde, watching his resolve break until finally tutor!bakugou snatches your wrist from its ‘innocent’ placement on his inner thigh and he yanks you towards him, sinister snarl etching its way onto handsome features. “try that shit again, ‘n i’ll fuckin’ punish you. got that?” katsuki hisses to you, glasses slipping down his nose and his eyes calculating and cool.

you should have been scared, should have backed down while you still hand the chance— “i don’t know what you mean baku, i just want you to help me,” but instead, you push his glasses up his nose and grin stupidly.

“answer the fuckin question, fuckslut.”

tutor!bakugou’s hot voice above the shell of your ear makes you shiver in his lap, heat flushing through your body at the debauched scene. one thing you can note from this tutoring session, is that katsuki bakugou in fact, isn’t a virgin despite what the rumours say and is more than capable handling dumb little sorority girls like you. you find your back pressed against his chest, molten warmth seeping through your clothes is hands force open your plush thighs and delve into the stickiness that hides between them.

“can’t y’hear me, slut?” katsuki huffs, annoyance rolling in waves through his tone. the yellowed pages of great expectations swim before your very own eyes— tears mounting your waterline and lower lashes as the blonde gives a sharp thrust to ‘wake you the fuck up’. he’s big, everywhere not just in his build that you’d observed earlier. no, tutor!bakugou’s cock sits snugly against your gummy walls while they trap him inside of you—you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix, bulging in your tummy while you squirm, spread across thick, muscled thighs. “s’not a wonder why you’re failing, nothin’ but air up in this pretty little head of yers.”

your cunt flutters, he’s right, you can’t even think straight with the pulse of his shaft against your dripping sex nor with his lips ghosting across the back of your neck and the flex of his muscles while he turns the page of your studying materials. your mouth is too wet, too hot, salivating while you try to calm your lust clouded mind and focus. “ba-kugou,” you mewl, the shift of his hips beneath you to get comfortable, sending you into overdrive. “‘m sorry, i’ll try t-to focus from now on...just please...move...”

tutor!bakugou laughs breathily in your ear— sending butterflies in a frenzy in your lower tummy and your tight pussy clamps down at the melody of a sound. “y’think you’re so funny, honey,” his fingers dance across your shiny, wet thighs and place feather light shapes on your puffy clit, causing you to throw your head back in sensitive ecstasy. katsuki doesn’t like that, freehand roughly gripping your throat to pull you back down to your incomplete work. “you really think i was gonna let you make a move on me without you actually learnin’ a damn thing? now i’ve got you stuffed full on my cock ‘n y’got the nerve to complain about it...’m not the one who wanted to mix work with pleasure.”

“I-i didn’t, i’m sorry—“ your voice is punctuated by wobbly hiccups as you shake your head, fighting the sleepy wave of neediness that pulses through your body since tutor!bakugou has cut off your air supply. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you, skirt flipped up so he can see himself beginning to pump in and out of you— prodding at your g-spot. the hand around your throat tightens and even he knows that you’ll need all the oxygen to your brain you can get to answer this simple question.

“then answer the damn question, it’s not that fuckin’ hard.”

you tremble, thankful for the frosted glass windows of the study room. it is that hard, you can’t think with his thick girth stretching you open and two of his hot digits burning circles into your swollen nub. “i cant, s’too much, please just move—“ the words die in your throat, fading into a squeal when bakugou lands harsh spank against your creamy folds— sending your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“‘m not fuckin’ movin’ in this bitchy, needy fuckin’ cunt until you answer these questions right. dumb sluts don’t get rewards no matter how cute they look split open on my fat cock.” the tone of tutor!bakugou’s voice lowers into an evil growl before his fingers slide up the length of your slit to play with the desperate juices gushing from your hole.

“bakugou—“

“katsuki, sir.” he corrects you quickly, the grip he has on your throat moving up to your cheeks. katsuki squishes them together, forcing the tears to roll freely from your babydoll eyes as he steadies your blurry gaze on the set of work on the desk. “you really must be a stupid bitch if you can’t get this one right, or are my cock and my fingers making you that fuckin’ dumb, princess?”

you nod, not a clear answer in your mind as you wonder how the fuck katsuki bakugou can hold out on you for this long, even when you clench down on him and your honeyed nectar drips between his balls. the whole afternoon is torture, leaving you on edge and the verge of release.

thats your own fault though, guess you should have learned your lesson.

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