#pls be gentle this is my first time attempting these prompts

[children-of-epiales]

Whumptober 2023

Prompt No. 07- "Can you hear me?"

When she reaches up and touches her cheek, the pads of her fingers press deep into her skin. It’s not until she feels the bone that Rouen reaches further, feeling wetness dripping from her ear canal. She looks at her hand to confirm that it’s blood. 

The soldier notices light on the floor and looks up at the tv in the room ahead of her. A commercial goes on, all the bright lights flashing and people speaking-speaking but not making a single sound. 

Rouen cannot hear a single sound. 

It’s gone, the brunette thinks. Oh my god it’s gone…It was real.

She chokes on a gasp, the adrenaline giving her the energy to stand. Reaper stumbles backward, shutting her eyes as she hits the wall; when she opens them, the soldier sees the pool she had previously laid in and the thought of how long she’d been there struck her. If she passed out while running from it, then why hadn’t it found her? Or did it find her, and not kill her? 

Fear washes over Rouen, gluing her to the wall for a moment. Where is it where is it where is it

Eventually she shoves away from the wall, running into the corner of the door frame in front of her, smashing her face against it. The world spins, colors take over her vision, yet the soldier continues into the room with the tv. 

Hel..lo?

The struggling to say the word stops Rouen in her tracks. This time it sounds just like her, having any conversation with her family or the love of her life. Tears blur her vision, run down her cheeks, it takes everything she has left to turn her head. Just barely able to see behind her, the dim light and pool of blood are all that occupies the vacant room she awoke in. 

No one’s there, she tries to convince herself. No one’s there’s-it’s not there. None of it is true, the fact is enough for her to continue outside, climbing through one of the broken windows and jumping out into trees, weeds, and other things the soldier can’t see. Things she can no longer hear. 

She doesn’t know what’s waiting for her, yet she takes off. The soldier runs into the waiting woods, pushing away vines and branches that block her path and try to grab at her to keep her company among the isolation. 

Hel-lo? 

Rouen’s pace quickens until the branches start to leave cuts on her. It must be her mind, she’s lost all that blood and has been stressed and scared since the evening prior-it must be her mind cracking. It’s all she can do to convince herself. 

She trips onto a road and continues on her hands and knees across the hot pavement, a red shape in the distance giving her the incentive to stand up. The closer the vehicle comes, the more she waves her arms and screams as loud as she can imagine she’s able to. 

Hello? Oh-

The truck slows so it stops right next to her, only for the soldier to freeze despite watching the woman’s lips move. It’s there. It’s there with her. It never left; it waited for her to wake up, so it could find her again. 

There you are.

Rouen walks over and opens the door to the passenger seat. She slips in and slams it before telling the woman to drive. She doesn’t try to blink away the tears that overwhelm her again. 

Hello? Can you hear me? Hello? There you are. Can you hear me?

She shuts her eyes. “ Get-Get us out of here.” She repeats through grit teeth. The soldier turns and opens her eyes, the reflection in the window blocked by another reflection of herself, smiling brightly at the deafened woman. 

I see you.

[missmeinyourbones]

we NEED "i'm just too soft for all of it." IWHT MEGUMI PLS IM BEGGING

I'M JUST TOO SOFT FOR ALL OF IT (m. fushiguro)

a/n: me making up medical shit LMFAO, repressed and emotionally constipated megumi, deadbeat dad t*ji, slight mentions and undertones of toxic masculinity

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Since he was four years old and still growing into his long-sleeved sweaters, Megumi has learned to heal his own wounds or almost die trying.

A routine that he now knows like the back of his hand, he'd returned from his latest mission with weeping cuts and exhaustion clear beneath his eyes, making a point to stop at the medical closet before returning to his dorm. With Shoko's workday over, he makes a mental note to visit her first thing in the morning when he wakes. 

He can make it through the night, he always does. Because Megumi is a thinker. He plans until he can't and covers all bases for when they're stolen. He gets by. 

What he didn't take into account was potentially running into you, of all people. Dormitory halls barren and almost eerie, he nearly curses himself for brushing shoulders as you turn the corner on the way back to your own room. 

Your timing has always been wrong, or maybe it's right and Megumi can't differentiate between the two. 

And now he's here, on the creaky wooden floor of the medicinal closet, with you kneeling beside him and prodding at his injuries with tender wrists. 

Never one to be good with idle hands, Megumi fidgets and tries to brush at the dried blood on his shoulder. The action has both of you hissing—him in a jolt of pain and you in reaction to his hurt. 

"Don't touch it," your voice falters to be stern, still coming out so gently. Megumi thinks about the irony of that—of how you can't even be sharp if you tried. You're too gentle, too soft to even sound hard momentarily. 

Humiliated at the mere idea of doing nothing, at needing help, he shakily exhales and returns his attention to the floor. 

When the damp cotton pad in your hand touches a bit too deep in one of his cuts, Megumi does his best to save face but can't help the grunt of breath that gets sucked into his lungs. 

Immediately, he feels you retract from his skin and coo your apologies. Carefully returning your attention to the burning wound, you do your best to soothe him. 

"Sorry, it's deeper than it looks. Almost over."

Megumi's response is quick and curt, like a cut of its own, "It's fine."

You nod hesitantly before grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and another clean cotton round. The cleaning of his wounds continues in silence, though your thoughts are louder than anything. 

His injuries vary in size. Some deeper, fresher, than others. Some looking like one-hit victims and others a repeated attack. You do your best to take note of where he's sensitive, where he's hurting the most. 

When you reach a certain scratch on his bicep, you're able to catch a glimpse of his face. Sweat beading on his forehead and damp hair sticking to his skin, Megumi bites the collar of his uniform to suppress any kind of noise (weakness) from you. 

When he slips up and lets out a guttural muffled groan, you think you might audibly whimper yourself. 

"You can yell if you want to," you try to help him in any way you can, "or squeeze my hand or—"

"I'm fine," Megumi attempts to bark again, but this time is different. It's not cold or sharp like it was last time. You can hear how it shakes against the echos of the closet, how it sounds like the burn of tears building in a sore throat.

And between the pain everywhere he still has feeling and the intimacy of you carefully caressing him, Megumi finds himself tearing up. 

"Hey," he feels you whisper, attempting to caress his jaw and prompt him to look at you, "hey, you okay?"

He can't find it in himself to answer nor lift his head, so he sniffles like a kicked child and crinkles his nose in disgust at his own pathetic actions.

Megumi is tough, one of the toughest people you know. You've seen him more beat up than this and barely break a sweat. Your head feels light at the realization that something's wrong. He shouldn't be in this much pain from the familiar burning of antiseptic he's felt a dozen times over. Maybe it's from a cursed weapon, or a technique where—

A stifled sob cuts you off.  

Like a glass cracking beneath pressure, you feel something inside you break. No longer caring about cleaning his cuts or avoiding sensitive areas, you can't stop yourself from wrapping around his hunched frame. 

Megumi's breath hitches as you hold him, feels your hair tickling his neck when you rub his back and whisper.

"I'm sorry, I know, but you're doing so good, okay? And I'm almost done—"

"Don't do that," he bites. 

Assuming he's referring to prodding at a specific wound, you flinch and loosen your grip, "Do what?"

"Talk to me like that," he snarls with a crack, "in that—voice."

He feels your head remove its weight from his shoulder slowly, "Why?"

"Because I can't—" Megumi's voice almost breaks before he whines, gritting his teeth when he whimpers, "I can't handle it."

And just like that, Megumi is four years old again. He's scraping his knee on the concrete of his front lawn, and a blurry father-shaped figure with dark hair and legs far too tall tells him to be a man. Not being old enough to use the stove without supervision, but still knowing enough to save his cries for his pillow when Tsumiki is snoring and can't overthink his tears. He thinks of Gojo—of the first time he broke down in front of him and was met with whispers of good intent and love that registered in his brain as pity. Humiliation.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your fingertips on his wet cheeks, replacing the stinging of antiseptic with a fluttering and velvety touch. 

Between sniffled strings of apologies and a few hiccups of words that don't quite make sense, you piece together that Megumi isn't crying because he's in pain. He's crying because he can, because you're helping him in a way he never asked for, let alone known. 

"I've never...been allowed to, like, feel—"

"Hey," you're soft again, as if you ever weren't. "I know," fingers delicately brush his sticky eyelashes when you remind him, "but you are now."

"Are what?"

"Allowed," you whisper against his cheek, "to feel however you want when you're around me."

And Megumi doesn't know how you do it. How you remain a light in a world that's constantly doing all it can to kick you while you're down. Maybe you're just naive, so stupidly optimistic that it'll eventually be your own demise. Maybe.

But, Megumi can't find himself to care, because he knows that for as long as he's on this earth, he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to that light of yours. 

Back to reality and rubbing at his stinging eyes, Megumi softly scoffs. "Y'know, sometimes you look at me with those stupid eyes and I don't know what happens, but I almost feel sick."

Your laughter tastes like water, "I know what you mean. But in a good way though, right?"

"Yeah," he nods, "in a good way."

When Megumi's back finally hits his mattress at an ungodly hour of the morning—something he's been dreaming of since he'd left it hours ago—he's sickeningly sore and his eyes burn with hypersensitivity. He lets himself close his eyes thinking of your hands, the ones that soaked his now scabbing wounds and wiped his watery eyes. 

Megumi plans, sure, but he never could have prepared for you. 

[rosyblooom]

blooming season🌷 (1) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.6k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans. A/N: my first time doing this, so probably has errors. if you've got any thoughts or requests pls let me know xoxo hope u enjoy! :)

part 1 <- | part 2

The scent of salt still lingers in the air, but now it feels different, not as welcoming as it used to be. It's a painful reminder of days gone by, days filled with joy and warmth that now seem distant and unattainable. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the memories, replaying them in your mind like a scratched vinyl record that refuses to play properly.

Today marks four years since your father's passing, and four years since you left Monaco. You were just eighteen then, fresh out of high school, when the news of your father's tragic car accident hit you like a ton of bricks. In a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sorrow, you packed your bags that very night and left before the weight of it all drowned you.

You couldn't bring yourself to attend your father's funeral, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't real. But deep down, you knew the truth—your father was gone, and nothing could change that. Even as you threw yourself into your studies, pursuing a nursing degree, the pain never truly went away.

And now, here you are, sitting alone on this deserted stretch of beach, watching the waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm.

This spot holds a special place in your heart, known only to a handful of locals—a fact you couldn't be more grateful for. Here, away from the watchful eyes of tourist crowds, you find solace as you simply listen to the earth rotate.

You exhale slowly, leaning forward to brush the sand from your palms before reaching into your bag for the bottle of red wine nestled inside. It takes a bit of effort to uncork it completely, but the satisfying pop is worth the wait. With careful precision, you fill a wine glass to the brim with the rich, maroon liquid—something to take the edge off.

"Welcome back, Y/N," you whisper to yourself, lifting the glass in a silent salute. "Thank you, thank you. I can't imagine anything worse."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a stark contrast to your usual composed demeanour. It's been 1,460 days, yet it feels like your world only just came crashing yesterday.

Needing calm now, you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness, when the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, pulling you back to the present moment.

"Seriously?" you think to yourself, feeling your heart plummet like a stone sinking into deep waters. You took every precaution to keep your return under wraps—after all, you paid good money for that privilege.

Arriving just last night, you made it a point to rise at the crack of dawn, a time before the world awoke; a time when it's just you and no one else. You couldn't bear the idea of facing the prying eyes that would surely accompany the day ahead. For once, you didn't want to be known as the daughter of one of Monaco's wealthiest families; you simply wanted to be yourself, stripped of titles and expectations—a daughter mourning her father.

Feeling like a trapped animal, you become acutely aware of every sound and movement, your gaze locked on the figure approaching.

A man.

His brown curls bounce with each step until he comes to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from you.

With a small wave and a nod, he greets you with a simple "Hey."

It takes a moment for you to register that the greeting is directed at you, causing you to tear your gaze away without a response. Your eyes flit between the gentle ripples of the sea and the man settling down uncomfortably close, prompting an annoyed grunt to escape your lips.

“Fuck spatial awareness, huh…,” you mutter under your breath, though not quiet enough to evade his notice. He slips off his black headphones, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Sorry, what?"

You clear your throat, then sit up straight and gesture expansively. "All this space, and you have to sit right next to me?”

He smiles.

Your gaze narrows.

"But I'm not right next to you," he retorts with a playful grin. "You're all the way over there." He points towards you and then at himself. "And I'm right here."

"Well, it's still too close," you snap.

"Sorry, did you buy this beach or something?" he counters, his grin widening. "Last time I checked, it's open to all members of—."

Growing increasingly frustrated, you interject, "No, I didn't buy anything. I just want some personal space. But clearly, that's lost on you."

With a scoff, you spring to your feet, snatching up your towel and cramming it into your bag, sand and all.

"Wait, you don't have to leave," he insists, his footsteps drawing closer. But you pay him no mind, tossing your phone into your bag and hastily gathering the rest of your belongings from the ground.

Once everything is crammed into your bag, you snatch up your half-empty glass of wine and stand upright, only to feel a foreign warmth enveloping your hand and glass. The man now stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space completely; you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his piercing green gaze.

"Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but—" he begins, but you cut him off sharply.

"Way too close now," you snap, attempting to pull your hand away, but he refuses to release his grip.

"You do realise I'm trying to apologise, right?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes.

"I don't care."

His grip remains firm. "There's plenty of space for both of us here."

"It doesn't matter anymore," you respond, your patience wearing thin.

The struggle continues, your voice growing louder with each tug. "Let go of the fucking glass!"

Suddenly, a sharp yell pierces the air, followed by the hollow thuds of broken glass hitting the ground. Shock washes over you as you barely register the sticky liquid trickling down your hand and onto your toes.

"Ah, shit," he exclaims, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly assess the situation, noticing the shattered remnants of the wine glass scattered on the ground, staining the sand crimson.

Panic sets in as you frantically check your hand and feet for any injuries, your eyes wide with fear. After several anxious moments, you breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm okay.

The tranquillity is abruptly shattered by deep groans echoing through the air, drawing your attention to the man's slumped figure with his back turned to you. His face remains hidden from view.

Though he's clearly in pain, you're tempted to slip on your shoes and make a hasty escape. Today is already burdened with its own weight; you're not sure you can handle any more. You even take a step back, ready to flee, but then something stops you.

A pang of guilt washes over you, weighing you down like heavy bags strapped to your legs. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly admit to yourself, "I can't believe I'm about to do this."

"Okay, fine. How about you put on your big boy boots and let me take a look at that?" you say, crossing your arms expectantly.

There's no reaction from him, not even a response.

Rolling your eyes, you drop your bag onto the sand and cautiously circle around him until you're face-to-face with his unruly brown curls.

"Hello?" you tap his shoulder, frustration creeping into your voice. "Earth to the stranger who doesn't understand personal space?"

"Seriously?" he retorts, his tone sharp.

His eyes meet yours as he straightens up, his expression guarded, but you simply shrug, maintaining a neutral demeanour, and extend your hand.

"Let me see," you say calmly.

For a moment, he simply stares at you in bewilderment, but then he tentatively extends his hand towards yours.

"I see," you breathe, examining the large cut in his palm with care, mindful not to dirty it with your fingers. Despite the blood seeping from the wound, you release a relieved sigh after a thorough inspection—it's not as deep as it initially appeared.

"Alright," you announce, dropping his hand and clapping your hands together. "Go home, make sure nothing touches that hand, clean the cut, and bandage it. Keep it dry for a couple of days, and then reassess."

Without waiting for a response, you turn towards your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and shoot him one final glance.

"This has been... unpleasant," you remark dryly. "I really hope our paths don't cross again. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

You shake your head and ignore him, determined to continue onward.

"Wait!" he calls out again, desperation evident in his tone. "I don't have any bandages!"

You stop walking, considering his words, but still don't turn around.

"And... I don't have any sanitising stuff either," he adds, his voice trailing off slightly.

Slowly, you turn around and wave your hands dismissively in the air, shouting back, "That's what supermarkets are for! I guess it's time for a shopping trip!"

Just as you're about to spin on your heel and leave again, his voice cuts through the distance.

"Look, you seem like you know what you're doing. Can't you just help me out here?"

Shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, you squint at him as he begins jogging toward you. "That advice," you shout back, "was me helping you out. Trust me, I wanted to leave way earlier."

For a moment, neither of you speaks as you watch him closing the distance between you. When he finally comes to a halt in front of you, you instinctively take two steps back—you need your personal space.

"So?" he says between pants, waiting for your response.

You furrow your brows, deep in thought. "Well, I don't have anything on me, sorry to disappoint. But like I said, there are shops around here."

You resume your walk, but to your dismay, the guy falls into step with you almost immediately.

"So, what? You have nothing at home?" he presses, his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Refusing to meet his eyes, you increase your speed.

"Right, because I'm just going to invite a stranger," you emphasise, "who I didn't want to be around in the first place, into my home."

His hand suddenly grips your arm, causing you to instinctively rip out of his grasp, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.

"What?" you bark, irritation seeping into your tone.

"You can google me," he offers, his voice calmer now. "Lando Norris, Formula One driver. Search my name up. You'll see pictures—every single detail about me, you'll probably find on the internet. Now I'm not a stranger anymore, right?" he suggests, his gaze pleading.

You remain silent, shifting your focus toward the calm waters as you breathe in and out. It feels as though the world has paused, waiting for you to come to a decision, to reach a conclusion.

Today, the anniversary of your father's death, is a day you've been dreading yet anticipating for so long. Its disruption unsettles you, but deep down, you know you can't simply ignore it. As much as you wish to skip over this chapter of your life, tear out its pages, and never look back, you can't. It's not healthy.

Still, that doesn't mean you can't delay it for a little while longer.

"Fine," you sigh, relenting to the situation, and begin rummaging through your bag until you locate your phone.

Quickly, you extract it and raise it to Lando's face, snapping a photo of him with the flash on.

"What the hell?" he exclaims, blinking rapidly.

"For my protection," you state matter-of-factly. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can't be a bad person."

Once his gaze meets yours again, he runs a hand through his hair and offers a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."

You nod, acknowledging his words, and continue your walk toward the car park.

"I'm not a bad person, though," he adds quickly, catching up to you.

"Colour me convinced," you reply dryly.

*********

As you approach the car park, annoyance bubbles within you at the sight of it: filled with cars and swarmed by dozens of people.

"You said you're a Formula One driver, right?" you ask, tilting your head up at Lando.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

Instead of answering, you grab the hood of his jacket and pull it over his head.

"Why did you do that—" Lando begins, but you cut him off.

"The last thing I need is a mob of your fans, okay?" you interject firmly. "The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

Lando chuckles as he adjusts the hood. "I'm really that bad, huh?"

"Worse," you deadpan.

"...Right."

With your raven car in sight, you quicken your pace, relief flooding through you. The last thing you want is for people to realise you're back, especially not today.

However, as if your luck has run out, a woman steps in front of you, blocking your path. You immediately turn your focus to Lando, motioning for him to take a picture with his fan and hurry up.

But instead of the attention falling on him, a weight suddenly falls onto your shoulder, catching you off guard. You clear your throat, preparing to speak, but the woman beats you to it.

"Oh my goodness, Y/N. It's you, isn't it?" the woman exclaims, her voice filled with recognition and sympathy.

You can't reply; your mouth feels dry, your tongue heavy with unspoken words.

No, not today. Please, not today.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N," she continues, her expression radiating pity. It's uncomfortable—the way she looks at you, the way she touches your shoulder so gently. It feels like you're being burned alive, yet you're immobilised, just as you were four years ago when you first heard the news.

"Your father was such an amazing man. And you, I mean, you've been missed. My daughter loves you—"

Suddenly, you're being pulled forward, jolting you out of your trance. You struggle to keep your balance as you try to comprehend what's happening—the woman is gone, and Lando's hand is firmly clasped around yours, pulling you closer to him.

Your personal space has been completely invaded, yet you don't feel the usual urge to pull away. Even if you did, you're not quite sure Lando would let you.

"Your car's the black one, right?" you hear him ask, but the words don't immediately register.

"Huh?" you mumble, still reeling from the encounter.

"That black car over there," Lando points and leans in close, his gaze locked with yours, "that's yours, right?"

You nod, still not quite ready to speak.

Lando releases your hand and holds out his palm to you. "Okay, car keys, please?"

"What? No," you shake your head, rejecting the idea. "There's no need for that."

"Come on, I'm a Formula One driver, remember? I won't crash it."

"It would be irresponsible of me to let you drive in this state," he adds, his voice firm.

"And what about your hand?" you nod toward the injury.

"Like I said," Lando smiles slyly, cocking his head to the side, "I drive race cars; I think I can handle driving with one hand."

Rolling your eyes, you relent, "Okay, fine."

With a sigh, you fish out the car keys from your bag and hand them over to him.

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

[glossysoap]

dirty talk ; captain mactavish | soap it up!

summary: snippets of what captain mactavish would say in bed.

this is also my first contribution towards @glitterypirateduck ‘soap it up’ challenge! thank you for encouraging entries even after the deadline lol, it’s much appreciated. and as always, if anyone is interested in a more fleshed out version of any of these headcanons, i’m open to writing a more detailed fic about it.

prompts used:

“I’ll take care of you.”

“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?”

“I’m going to marry you.”

warnings/tags: 18+, fem reader/afab, oral (f), fingering, squirting, mating press. this isn’t as rough as i would usually like to make it but i’ll make a rougher version soon :) also i whipped this up in like 2 hours in the middle of the night while i was fighting sleep so be gentle <3

notes: bolded sentences = lines he would say in bed.

word count: 1-1.5k

🏷️: @divine--serenity @violet-phantoms @jumbojazzcats93 @ghastlybirdie @loveyhoneydovey @vgilantee @blissful-bunny @damnirina @wrathofcats @claymorexpunisher @krakenbabe @luvecarson @mandalover2023 @lordlydragon @undeadsthings @kiroshang @ivymarquis @stargirlrchive @itzzjxlyn @msdevil333 (if your name is struck out, tumblr won’t let me tag you. pls check your settings. also, if you want to be added to my smut tag list, let me know. if you want to be added to my dark fic tag list, let me know. if you want to be added to my everything tag list, let me know. pls be specific on what list you wish to be added to. if you want to be removed from any list, pls let me know, there’s never any hard feelings.)

“Love this pretty fuckin’ pussy so much.” He murmurs softly into your skin, his stubble scratching against the warmth of your inner thigh as his strong arms work on holding your legs apart for him. Icy blue eyes studying your cunt with all of the focus ingrained in a captain — wearing a wolfish grin as he commits every detail to memory. As if it were the first time he ever saw it.

“Love you so much.” Then his eyes would flicker up to your face to gauge your reaction as he uses one thick finger to trace your slick folds. He takes his time gathering your juices on his fingers and spreading your lips apart. His lips quirk into a grin as he sees you bite your lip and your brows furrow. Before you could return his affections, his finger had begun dipping inside your folds.

But just dipping. Not giving you enough stimulation to get off but just enough to make your heart race. Enough to make you frustrated.

“Fuck, John! Please! Just touch me!” You beg, voice cracking as you look down at where he lay between your legs.

“I am touchin’ ye.” He looks up at you, feigning confusion as his finger continues to tease your slit so cruelly. “What do ye’ mean?”

“Mm, you know what I mean.” You try to stifle a moan as he traces little figure eights right at your entrance, only dipping just a fraction further inside. Keyword: try.

“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?” He asks, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he grins.

He loved your pathetic little whimpers and whines when you were so desperate for his tongue or his cock. But what he loved even more was feeling how drenched you were for him. He loved the unabashed moans that fell from your lips as you writhe in pleasure.

So he stopped teasing.

“So fuckin’ wet for me. Just soaking my fingers, lass.” He smiles as he pushes a thick finger in all the way to the knuckle, slipping in so easily from how slick you were. Your breath hitches as he dips his head down, letting his breath fan against your cunt. Just as he’s slipping in a second finger, his mouth is on your pussy. Lapping at your folds in wide and messy stripes, licking up all of your juices and moaning against your sensitive skin.

“Oh my God!” You cry out, hand moving to grab a fistful of his mohawk in an attempt to find purchase.

“Mmm, fuck! You taste so fucking good. Could do this all day.” He moans into your cunt, sending vibrations to your core. He’s so loud about it, dipping his tongue inside you and wrapping his lips around your swollen clit and sucking. All the while, his two fingers were pumping in and out beneath his tongue, preparing you for the stretch of his cock. His two fingers alternated between pumping at a cruel pace and scissoring inside your warmth, making you cry out. With his mouth making a mess of your pussy and his fingers moving in tandem, wet squelching sounds had started mixing with your moans.

“Please, please, please, John!” You didn’t even know what you were begging for. He was already touching you. But you just couldn’t help it. You had so much tension and stimulation built up, you needed to do something.

“Aw,” he can’t help but coo mockingly, “Dinnae worry, mo ghraidh.” My love.

“I’ll always take care o’ ye.” He grins against your throbbing cunt, before coming up from between your legs and switching your position in five seconds flat. He hikes your legs above his shoulders, knees pressed against your chest to leave you perfectly spread open for him.

With that same wolfish grin, he rubbed the head of his cock along your wet folds. He loved how soaked you were already, how much your juices were coating his cock. He heard your little gasp at the teasing and he saw your hips desperately buck up into the air. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you were so needy to be filled and fucked.

He taps the head of his cock against your swollen clit a few times, before pressing it against your entrance.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, love. Can barely move.” He chuckles in your ear when he first pushes in, easing his cock inside your cunt inch by inch. You gasp at his girth as he eases inside — his cock is always an adjustment for you, especially after a dry spell. He gives a small hiss from how tight you were, then after a minute, he groans because of how slippery and warm you were around his cock. Always taking him so well.

“That’s it, that’s it…” He croons into your ear as you clench around his cock, your juices mixing with his as he pumps in and out. You could feel his stubble scratching against your skin as he spoke, sending an additional chill down your spine as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.

He angles his hips a bit different so he can hit you even deeper. When he hears you sharply gasp, he laughs.

“Yeah, did I find that spot? Hmm?” He croons in your ear, not waiting for a response before his hips pick up the pace. He keeps hitting that sensitive spot in your cunt with thrust, groaning in your ear when he feels you squeeze him so good.

“Gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.” He all but growls in your ear as he feels himself grow closer to his own release. He feels himself throbbing inside you, that knot inside his stomach growing tighter and tighter. All he wanted to do was fold your legs up to your chest and pump you full of his cum. He wanted to hear you whine and moan from being so full, all while having his cum trickle down from your soaked cunt.

“Good fuckin’ girl. I swear, one day I’m gonna marry ye’.” He murmurs in your ear, voice all gruff and husky as you gush all over his cock. Your cunt pulses and throbs, squeezing around him as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you absolutely breathless. His hips never faltering as he ruts into you, enjoying every cry and moan that falls from your lips. His breath fanning against your face as his forehead presses onto yours, blue eyes drinking in every twist of ecstasy in your expression.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[a-libra-writes]

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake. 

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him. 

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ... 

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start. 

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.  

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.

[seiless]

This may get a bit dark, but how about some heavy hurt/comfort. I used my irl d&d campaign as my Astarion route Tav (tiefling wild magic sorceress) intending for BG3 to be the next adventure in her storyline after the d&d campaign... then my DM threw some really messed up angst at her, knowing I'm a lover of angst and Astarion. Turns out her mother (a queen & sorceress) had been using her as a pawn to seduce, charm, and eliminate rivals who wished to usurp her throne, then erased the memories and planted false ones.

So maybe dome hurt/comfort of Astarion when Tav finds out what she's actually been through, her life has been a pie, etc etc? If this is too heavy/too specific, pls just delete but the campaign has been being A TIME for me and I need some Astarion affection

(The first prompt is finished, at last! Many more to come! U V U)

You were used. Of course you were. If all your other companions had some sort of difficult or twisted past, why would you be any different?

But it wasn’t that you had one as well that bothered you. What had your stomach in knots and your heart twisting apart was the fact that it had been happening your whole life…and you hadn’t ever once noticed.

That you weren’t just your mother’s daughter; no, far from it. You were your mother’s tool. A weapon for her to wield, to manipulate and coerce others to do what she needed them to do.

Not only did you never have a say in the matter…you didn't even realize it. Not until your memories were forcefully returned by the tadpole and broke whatever insidious curse that kept the truth at bay.

They didn’t come all at once; they started as nightmares, over the course of months. The kind that became more frequent, more vivid.

And then the realization struck; they weren’t nightmares at all. They were memories. Shadowheart helped you come to this realization when you explained what you were suffering through each night.

Astarion had been awre of these dreams that tormented you; sharing a tent did make that easy. But you had insisted he not worry; it was your problem to resolve, and he had enough he had to deal with.

But that didn’t stop him from keeping a close eye on you. So when you strode from Shadowheart’s tent that night and made a beeline for your own, he could tell quite clearly something was wrong.

His gaze flicked to Shadowheart, who had lingered at the entrance and watched as you steppped away. She was worried; that much was obvious.

Astarion pursed his lips, but knew there was little time to wait. With a lift of his chin and a fluff of his tunic, he made his way over to the tent you had disappeared into.

Of course, he could hear the sobs before he’d even reached you. The sound was muffled, pressed into the palm of your hand. 

It did make his heart twist. You had done so little to deserve such distress (well, in his unbiased opinion).

His initial thought was to dismiss any heartfelt attempt at comfort, say something lighthearted and teasing to break the heaviness that suffocated the tent.

He thought better of it, and instead reached out to take hold of your hand, gingerly forcing your attention away from the bedroll you had all but pressed yourself tightly into.

You turned your head some, offering a little acknowledgement to the vampire.

But there was little else you could do; not without a whole new waterfall of tears gushing forth.

“What did they say?” He asked gentlyin a soft voice; gentle enough that it might coax you from the whimpering.

You shook your head, averting your gaze back to the dirt in front of you.

“It was all real. The nightmares…t-they were memories. All of it. .I was…I was a tool. A pawn, used by my own…” You choked back a sob, and he could hear your teeth grind as your jaw clenched tightly. My own mother.”

Astarion nodded quietly; he had suspected as much, given the vividness and the sheer amount of detail you were able to recall with each instance.

You bit your lip, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I don’t know what to think…the things I did for her, Astarion, what I thought was right, what would help her….the people I hurt, that I-!’

“I’m quite familiar with it, darling.” Astarion’s tone remained gentle, if only with a hint of a teasing lilt. “If it’s any comfort, at least you didn’t know the things you were doing were inherently wrong.”

You whipped your glare back to him, pulling your hand from his. “That doesn’t make it any better. That makes it worse. I couldn’t even atone for my sins because I thought it was the right thing to do. That I was doing it for her- Gods, I can’t believe…”

There was a deep, unending understanding in his heart. There were few who could understand what you were going through. 

“I…I am sorry, my love. I know exactly what you’re going through. To have come from your own mother is unfathomably awful. It is something no one deserves…least of all, you.”

You nodded, pushing the tears away as you worked to sit yourself upright. Your expression was bordering on embarrassed; sheepish. Like you were ashamed to be telling him any of this.

“Thank you, Asta, really. But…but I don’t think it’s anything like what you had to go through. I wouldn’t dare compare the two things.”

“You didn’t. I did. You weren’t given a say in your actions; certainly, you may not have been tormented and brutalized in a whole host of different ways, but-”

“My point exactly,” You frowned, this time moving to take his hand in your own. Your body was hot with sorrow; with anger. “You don’t need to try and-”

“I’m not doing anything other than giving you the same compassion you've shown me. You needn't belittle your experiences simply because it doesn't compare to my own.”

“I-I’m not trying to comp- I just- I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to be this. I hate that this is what I am. I hate that she made me this way, and I didn’t even know it. And I don’t want to t-talk about it either, because I’m hardly t-the only one with issues like this!”

“But you still need time to process it, as we all did. And you will not be alone in this. Quite the contrary; I’m certain there’s a number of people that are willing to be there for you, aside from myself.”

“That’s…that’s true.” You sniffed, taking in a long, shaking breath in a feeble attempt to calm down. “I’m sorry. You're right, I’m just…I’m not in a good headspace. I do need some t-time to process it.”

“Couldn’t agree more, darling.” Astarion smiled softly, “Would you prefer to be on your own? I’ll gladly fuck off, if you demand it.”

“No.” You shook your head, holding out a trembling hand. “I want you to stay.” 

Cool fingertips skated over your palm, and laced with your own as he drew you gently into his chest. Deceptively broad, and reliably strong, you melted into him, unwinding your hands so that you could properly wrap your arms around him and fall into a much needed embrace.

Astarion laid you both down gingerly, prizing your comfort as the floodgatesopened once more.

You don’t know how long you cried, and at certain points, you weren’t entirely sure what your breaths were hitching for.

But when the storm passed, and you finally cried yourself asleep, Astarion was there.

Unwavering in his loyalty, reluctant to let you go for even a moment, his thoughts were filled only with you.

Well, you and a variety of schemes to take revenge on your mother, but you nonetheless.

You were there in the darkest of times, and knew you would remain at his side when he finally found the strength to face his greatest fears.

There could be no doubt that he would do the very same for you. He would never allow such a concern to ever cross your mind.

[katyawriteswhump]

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂 

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”  

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

[oopsitszuli]

can i have a Obamitsu x reader head canons pls?

Obamitsu x GN!Reader (Sfw Headcanons, Modern Au)

Authors note: Hello! Thank you so much for the request and I apologize for taking so long to fill it! Love me some polyamory and Obanai and Mitsuri are my favorite KNY couple so I hope I did these headcanons justice!!

Warnings: None!

Obanai and Mitsuri are surprisingly a very open couple. Both of them are super comfortable in their relationship and trust in each other, so they commonly take turns pointing out attractive people they come across. But when they met you, things took a shift. 

You were so attractive to both of them that they didn’t know fully what to do when they met you. 

Obanai took the lead, introducing himself and Mitsuri and explaining that they had just moved into the area and were trying to get familiar with places around town. That’s when you took control. You were quick to give them your number, inviting them to a tour around the town and then a nice dinner at a restaurant you were sure they would enjoy. 

Needless to say, they accepted, and from that moment onward, you three were the best of friends. From going out on tours to spending time together at their house and helping them decorate. It seemed as though they moved you into their life with little to no hesitation, and it was obvious to Obanai and Mitsuri that they had to have a serious talk.

[ You had just left Mitsuri and Obanai’s apartment, leaving a very flustered Mitsuri pacing around her and her boyfriend’s living room. She chewed nervously on her nails, and her arm crossed over her chest in an attempt at reassuring herself. 

“Mitsuri, it���s ok. You’re allowed to find them attractive.” Obanai attempted to reason with her to no avail. He sat on their couch, watching closely as the woman he loved was deep In the throws of panic. 

“No, it’s not ok. I don’t find them attractive, well I do, but- I’m attracted to them.” She threw her hands up In the air, “That is a very big difference that makes me feel like I’m mentally cheating on you!” She ended her sentence as she fell to her knees in defeat, only earning a chuckle from the black-haired man across from her. Mitsuri looked up, watching closely as Obanai moved from the couch and to the floor next to her. His hand rested gently atop hers as he met her eyes. 

“Mitsuri, I’m attracted to them too. And there is absolutely no issue if we both share an attraction for the same person.” He explained. Mitsuri sighed heavily, bringing Obanai’s hands to her lips as she placed gentle kisses on his knuckles. 

“I’m so nervous, Obanai. I don’t know what we should do next…” She explained. Obanai freed his hand from hers, lifting her chin as his expression softened. 

“If you really want to, we should tell them. The worst that could happen is that they don’t feel the same.” Obanai gently kissed her forehead as Mitsuri let out another hefty sigh.

“No, the worst thing that could happen is that they end up thinking we are some crazy freaks and hate us for the rest of their life!” She bemoaned. Obanai rolled his eyes, carefully prompting Mitsuri to stand up with him. 

“Ok, that is a possibility, but would you rather sit on these emotions for the rest of our lives or at least get them out in the open?” Obanai looked up at Mitsuri, attempting to reassure her to his best abilities. 

“I hate it when you’re reasonable.” Mitsuri chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around Obanai and pulling him into a hug. ]

The actual conversation with you was full of awkward tension at first, but once they actually asked the question, everything changed. 

[ “I know it will take some getting used to, but me and Obanai want to know if you would like to go on dates…With us. Both of us.” Mitsuri asked quickly, her hands rubbing together nervously as she looked at you. Your eyes widened with each word that fell from her lips, and it felt as though the world was coming to a halt in the best ways possible. 

“And if you don’t feel anything romantic towards us, we fully understand and hope this doesn’t put a damper on our friendship. You’re a beautiful person (Y/n).” Obanai followed up, drawing your attention to him as he spoke. The room fell silent after the final words left Obanai’s lips. Leaving you, Mitsuri, and him all sitting in silence. You looked around, noticing Mitsuri’s nervous fidgets and Obanai’s overbearing attentiveness. They were waiting on bated breath for your response, and honestly, you were too. You were attracted to both of them, but never in a million years would you have imagined both of them feeling the same about you. And now here you were, with two of the most amazing people you’ve ever known standing across from you and waiting to see if you share the same feelings as them. 

“I..” Your voice faded out for a moment, “I liked you guys too- I just never imagined you would ever like me as well.” You answered. Excitement blossomed on Mitsuri’s face but she stayed silent, as if she were nervous you were going to retract your statement. Slowly, you stood from where you sat on their couch, a wide smile blossoming on your face as you decided on your answer.

“So when’s the first date?” You smiled brightly.  ]

From that moment forward, you were privy to a love that you had never experienced before. 

Obanai and Mitsuri are equally passionate lovers just in different ways. Obanai will go out of his way to buy you everything you could ever dream of and Mitsuri uses you as her new muse in her art. 

They love you so much and they will never let you feel unloved for the rest of your life. 

[vshthestmpede]

Can u do an imagine w/ Wolfwood, who thakes a bath w his s/o, with them washing each other's hair, massaging each other, and seeking comfort among them (it can have a little teasing if u want ;))

let your worries wash away (18+ minors dni)

word count; 817

warnings; only safe-ish for work so minors dni pls <3

notes; my first attempt at writing something on the more explicit end and it gets to be my man?? ty gods and anon for this request <3 for the sake of my writing, i'm going to make this a fem reader insert!

cross-posted to ao3

you wasted no time in taking advantage of the privacy the inn gave you, immediately tossing your belongings aside and heading for the bath. imagining the feeling of cool, inviting water had you bouncing on the balls of your feet as you turned on the faucet and plugged the tub, allowing water to accumulate.

you hastily discarded your clothes as soon as the water was at your desired height, kicking them towards the door and easing into the tub. a pleased sigh that had sat at the back of your throat for far too long slipped past your lips as you sunk down, your eyes closing in sheer bliss.

you heard the door to your room open and close followed by the familiar gentle thunk of a certain undertaker's cross being propped up on the wall.

"care to join me?" you called, opening your eyes and leaning over the edge of the tub. "the water feels real nice, nico!"

"i'm coming, i'm comin'," he replied, shuffling towards the bathroom. he kicked his shoes off as he walked, his jacket and shirt getting tossed onto the bed. "don't wanna be too long, i'm real tired. okay?"

"mmhmm," you hummed, watching closely as your lover shed the rest of his clothes and climbed in behind you. you leaned back into his chest and relaxed as his hands ran up your thighs and rested on your stomach. "this is nice."

wolfwood put his chin on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to your jaw and neck. you giggled and turned your head, craning it a bit so you were able to lock lips with him. soon, you turned your whole body so you were straddling the man while never breaking the kiss. a mere, simple kiss slowly devolved into frantic touching, grabbing, moaning into each other's mouths.

wolfwood's mouth strayed from yours, pressing adoring kisses down your collarbone to your breasts while his hands grabbed at your hips then slid down to your ass to lift you up a bit more. you inhaled sharply as your nipples stiffened at the contact of the cold air only for one of them to be swallowed by his tongue. he stared up at you, doe-eyed, as you clawed at his hair and threw your head back at the pleasure that coursed through your body.

"n-nico," you gasped and he swore to all the gods he could think of that you were the most beautiful thing in all the galaxies that could ever exist.

with an audible pop, he released one nipple and went straight for the other, unleashing a whole new wave of mewls and moans from you as one hand came up to grab your jaw and force you to look at him, to look him dead in the eyes as the pleasure he made you feel contorted your features.

"you're so beautiful," he murmured into your skin, slowly pulling back and resting his cheek on your sternum. your heart was beating so fast he almost couldn't detect the rhythm. "c'mere, let's get you all washed up."

you hummed, still drunk with pleasure, as wolfwood maneuvered you so your back was against his chest. he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and lathered some between his hands before running his fingers through your hair and gently scratching at your scalp. after finishing he had you lie back, helping you rinse the soap out of your hair.

"your turn!" you turned on him excitedly and he laughed at your starry-eyed expression. "why don't i give you a bit of a teaser on what to expect tonight?"

he slung his arms over the back of the tub, intrigued, and you swear you almost melted and thought about taking him on the bathroom floor.

"by all means, my star," he prompted and you took some of the body wash, motioning for him to sit up. "bossy, are we?"

you nodded. "c'mon, pretty boy. how 'm i supposed to worship a body i can't even see properly?"

you swear, for just a second, you see his eyes widen in surprise before his normal, cocky expression reappears as he sits up a bit more. you wasted no time in lathering up his chest and then move up to his shoulders, pressing your chest to his as you work diligently on the sore muscles.

"feel good?" you murmured into his ear as he threw his head back. "i only aim to please you."

"you're doin' a wonderful job," he replied, groaning as you readjusted yourself. "i know you know what you're doing."

"do i?" you asked innocently, leaning down and sucking gently on the spot just underneath his jaw. you smiled against his skin as his hands gripped under your thighs as he stood up. "ready for more?"

"you said you aim to please." his voice was lower, coated in lust. "let's see what exactly you have in store."

[cordiformpink]

tickles!! no names, so imagine whoever you'd like :)

he's dozing a little, when she finds him. stretched out on his bed on his stomach, arms folded, head pillowed on them. warm yellow light blankets the room and casts gentle shadows in the creases of his faded pyjamas. half an hour has passed since he claimed he was going to go get in the shower, and she didn't hear the water run once during that time. no surprises, then, when she finds him like this.

as cute as his impromptu napping is, it can't be allowed to continue. he's got things to do, and she'd hardly be a helpful partner if she didn't prompt him to get back on track with his day. still. he is cute. and there's really only one way such a cute boy ought to be woken.

she moves quietly, footsteps soft, gliding, nearly, until she's kneeling on the bed beside him. he hasn't stirred. her hand rests first on his back, stroking down his spine until he sighs in bliss. she slides her hand across his lower back then, rubbing circles there, feeling the way he begins to stir at her touch. he's half-awake, and shows it in the catlike arch of his back.

"like that, do you?" she smiles. she knows that he does. he likes all of this.

her other hand joins the first. she smooths them over his soft shirt to rest on his sides. then, she starts to tickle.

he twitches, jerks, letting out a quiet giggle.

"hiii," she says, voice soft and smile-shaped.

he tries to say it back, but her hands dart an inch upward and squeeze, and he cuts his own voice off with a surprised squeak and a second stream of giggles.

"mmm, i don't think so. i think it's my turn to do the talking. see, you told me you were off for a shower." her fingers begin to walk up his sides, each fingertip settling and giving a tiny wiggle before the next moves. "and yet, here you are, not showered."

he's holding as still as he can, and she can feel him nearly trembling with the effort to do so, but he twitches helplessly at the little presses of her fingertips. she walks her fingers to a stop, resting over his ribs. she pauses there for a few moments, watching him try not to squirm with anticipation, caught between one breath and the next, hardly daring to move.

"now. got anything to say for yourself?" she asks.

a beat passes while he summons his excuses. "well, i-"

she digs her fingertips into his ribs. whatever explanation he was planning to give is lost entirely as he shouts with surprised laughter.

she grins. his ribs are a bad spot, and she knows just how to get him best there. she wriggles her fingertips into the spaces in between his ribs, following the gentle curve of each one and poking into the ticklish flesh there until he jerks and bucks and shrieks. the giggles are pouring out of him now as he squirms and twists, face prettily flushed. though she knows he doesn't mean to, he twists over onto his side, curling up in defence of his sensitive ribs.

it doesn't help, of course. her hands are already there, and they follow him, so that his attempts to shield himself only serve to keep her hands pressed close. she gives him a moment's reprieve to contemplate his situation before she starts to tickle him again.

his laughter fills the room, and her own little giggles of delight join it. there's nothing quite so lovely as this.

he's breathless and on his back the next time she pauses, and she's leaning so far over him that she decides it'll be easier to straddle him instead, so she does.

he gazes up at her, smile so wide it warms her heart, eyes bright.

"more?" he asks, shyly hopeful.

she leans down and presses a soft kiss to his mouth.

then, she begins again.

x

written once again about my obscure fandom loves, and made vague so others can enjoy. if you do want to know the characters i had in mind when writing, pls ask!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

♥️ Billy Hargrove Masterlist ♥️

This is a masterlist dedicated to things I've written about Billy Hargrove.

Check out my Prompt List and my Character List in my Masterpost which is pinned for more info on who I write for and some inspiration for requests.

Asked Out: 

Summary/Request: “Meeting billy for the first time? Maybe the reader is dustins sister or something. They could go on a date etc?”

Favorite Pain:

Summary/Request: “prompt 7 and 14;) with Billy Hargrove, do whatever it is you please!!"

Ass Is Grass:

Summary/Request: “billy hargrove - enemies to lovers with prompt 17?? <3333"

Make Me Stay:

Summary/Request: “Billy and the reader having a fwb relationship but he's not really nice or gentle, more just using her and she finally has enough of it?"

I'm A Gentleman Now:

Summary/Request: “the little thing you wrote about Eddy comforting reader was so cute!!! sooo naturally my mind wandered off to Billy immediately and now I would like to request the same prompt, but with him :))"

Not Afraid:

Summary/Request: “CAN YOU PLEASE DO BILLY HARGROVE W THE PROMPT 'I'm not afraid of you.' PREFERABLY NSFW?"

Gentle:

Summary/Request: “can you do 18 and 21 from your prompts list with billy hargrove🤍"

Don't Believe You:

Summary/Request: “So... Can I ask about prompts 2, 8 and 21 with Billy Hargrove please? Like, the reader have a pretty heavy life trying to be perfect for her family, and stuff."

Heroic:

Summary/Request: “billy opening up to the reader abt his childhood, and the reader comforts him?"

Precious Cargo:

Summary/Request: “Following the move of the Byers, with El, to California and everything that happens with Vecna, the reader and Hopper move back into his Cabin in the woods, taking the time to fix it up. She has trouble adjusting, even after the years of being free from the lab, she still struggles to fit into the puzzle that is Hawkins. But with the new friends she's made while attempting to save the world and the object of her attraction, Billy, she begins to understand what it's like to be an actual 18 year old, not a lab rat."

Like This:

Summary/Request: “I'm literally obsessed with how you write soft Billy, so I would like to request a little fluff/angst/soft-in-general fic with Billy and trope 1 (There's only one bed)"

Loving This:

Summary/Request: “FUCK man like imagine eddie or Billy hitting it from behind, hand fisted into your hair or gripping your shoulder to force you back into their thrusts 🤤 or them leaning all the way forward so their chest is pressed against your back and whispering dirty words to you🥵"

Bitten:

Summary/Request: “Billy would leave such dark hickys and bite marks along your neck and thighs so when you wear shorts or skirts they're visible and he'd cover ABSOLUTELY every inch of your chest with hickys 🤤 making sure everyone knows your his"

Backdoor:

Summary/Request: “Okay but a fic of reader and Billy doing anal…..?"

Seething:

Summary/Request: “Billy finding out that the reader gets hit by their parents because the parents are drunk?"

Worth Your While:

Summary/Request: “okay okay, but after Eddy and Steve,, what about Billy cumming too fast ??"

Overstimulation:

Summary/Request: “PLEASE im begging you to do something with billy being submissive and the reader edging/overstimming him and maybe possibly having a slight mommy kink 🙏 this inspired me im on my hands and knees rn"

Devour Me:

Summary/Request: “prompt number 17 wirh billy pls!!"

Purely Wholesome:

Summary/Request: “i love your work !! can you maybe write something with billy? like maybe the reader acted the whole day like a brat, teasing billy and now he gets to punish her and fuck the attitude out of her?😩"

Gentleman Nonetheless:

Summary/Request: “22, prompt list, billy Hargrove, nsfw"

Little Things:

Summary/Request: “ic with Billy where you and him have been in a relationship for a little while and one day you happen to find out that all this time he’s held onto all kinds of little things you have him. Like for example little notes you wrote him in class, or receipts from dates, maybe things you don’t even recognise anymore. You had never expected Billy to do this, yk, cause he’s Billy."

Enemies:

Summary/Request: “OMG CAN YOU DO AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS W BILLY HARGROVE?"

Gain or Lose:

Summary/Request: “Could you please do a Billy Hargrove fluff of the reader being insecure of their looks as their mother is pestering them to continuously fix themselves up please and thank you?"

Feisty:

Summary/Request: “lifeguard billy x reader one shot? Like he’s all touchy and kissy with her even tho he’s at work and maybe a bit steamy? And he makes sure she knows that he only had eyes for her and doesn’t give a shit about the others (moms in particular lmao)"

Twelve Pack:

Summary/Request: “Hi I was wondering if you could write about Billy and reader having the biggest argument in their relationship but in the middle of the argument the reader gets an anxiety attack?"

Bloody and Broken:

Summary/Request: “recently i’ve been a little bit too interested with billy hargrove fics pfft but i wanted to mix two things from the prompt list and wanted to see your take with it:) 22 and 10"

Abandoned:

Summary/Request: “I peeped into your prompt list and was inspired to request a Billy Hargrove x fem!reader fic 👀"

Sacrificial Lamb:

Summary/Request: “billy x reader fic where the reader has this negative idea of billy bc she heard rumors that he was just a terrible person, but they end up being forced to spend time together for whatever reason."

Pull Over:

Summary/Request: “Hiii! Can I please request Jealousy/Friends with Benefits with The Prompts 'Make Me”with Billy Hargrove please"

NSFW Alphabet

[lokigayforhela]

could you do hela in labor, ty!

TW: difficult labor, near-death experience

WC: 3200

Rating: PG

A/N: This anon: “hela in labor pls!” Me: “How about pure angst?” Anyways, I absolutely love writing birth/baby scenes, so thank you for this prompt. I couldn’t figure out how to end this, because it was getting so long, so it’s a bit abrupt, but who knows? Maybe one day I’ll come back and do a tiny lil sequel, hm? Enjoy!

“Y/N, I think it’s time.”

You glanced up from where you sat reading at the window, mind temporarily drawing a blank as you looked at your wife.

“Time for what?”

Hela leveled you with such a look that reality hit you a millisecond later.

“It’s time?” You let your book fall onto the window seat with a dull thud, completely disregarding that you hadn’t even placed a bookmark.

Hela nodded, carefully pushing herself to her feet. “It’s time.”

You nodded along with her, and jumped to your feet at the same time, going over to take her hand and wrap an arm around her.

“Okay. You’re gonna be okay, it’s okay. We’ll get you to a birthing suite, and tell a maid to alert the healers on the way over.”

Hela only nodded, looking far calmer than you felt, and you couldn’t help but to wonder just how long that would last. Given Hela’s unease about being pregnant in the first place due to her own mother dying in childbirth, you assumed at some point during the next few hours, you’d be talking her down while she worried about what was going to happen next.

Hela tightened her grip on your hand slightly, and the pressure brought your mind back to the present as you looked over at her, brow furrowing in concern.

“What’s happening? Contraction? Do you need me to stop? Let’s stop.” Before Hela could even answer, you’d brought the both of you to a halt, and you moved to stand in front of Hela so that you could watch her better as you gripped both arms to keep her steady as she closed her eyes, working through whatever pain she was feeling.

The contraction only seemed to last a few seconds, and you were grateful for that, as you’d much rather get Hela to a safer place to get through the birthing process before the contractions became any worse.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re going to be okay, my love. Let’s get you the rest of the way, before these get any worse.” You waited for Hela to nod before walking with her again, and as you rounded a corner, you called for the first maid you could see to send for the healers so that they’d come as soon as possible. By the time you’d reached the birthing suite and got Hela situated on the edge of the bed, a healer and a midwife were just behind you, and they began to fuss over Hela as you took a step back, knowing that they’d be of much more assistance for the time being than you would be.

While they got Hela changed into a proper birthing gown and settled into the freshly-made bed, you paced back and forth, worrying your hands in silence as you glanced over at Hela, anticipating another contraction to hit soon, and the moment that it did, you were at Hela’s side again, taking her hand in both of yours and allowing her to hold it as tightly as she needed.

“That’s it, my love… I’ve got you… You’re doing so well, I’m right here with you…” you cooed softly, keeping your voice as gentle as possible in an attempt to keep Hela as calm as possible. She was putting on a good show, but you knew she was much more nervous than she was letting on.

“With the contractions coming so closely together already, I suspect this will be a very quick affair, hardly more than a few hours or so,” the healer mused as she and the midwife got a few things ready for the birth.

You hesitated, looking from the healer to Hela and then back. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily. Quick births can be easy, but they can also cause some damage, if we aren’t careful. We’ll keep a close eye on her, and make adjustments as necessary.”

You nodded slowly, and looked back to Hela, who had laid back against the pillows with her eyes closed, pretending not to listen. “…I’ll make sure she doesn’t stress herself out too much, as well. I’m sure that would only make things infinitely worse.”

The healer hummed in response, and she and the midwife both left the room to fetch a few more necessities for the birth, and with it just the two of you again, you went back over to Hela’s side, kneeling down next to her as you took her hand in yours.

“Hello, my love…” you murmured softly, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, and Hela opened her eyes to look at you, brow already beaded with sweat as she mustered her best smile. “How are you feeling?”

“…as well as can be expected. Though I suppose I might be eating those words here in a little while.” She huffed out a humorless laugh, and you pressed another kiss to her hand.

“We’re going to take care of you. I promise. The healer says it might even be a quick birth.”

Hela was silent for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet. “I was a quick birth.”

“And things were much different then than they are now. Nothing’s going to happen to you, my love. I don’t even want you to consider that possibility. Okay?” When Hela said nothing, you squeezed her hand gently. “Okay?”

“…I make no promises.”

That was the best you were going to get, and you knew it.

“Well, let’s think about something else right now, okay? How about names? Are we decided on names yet? I really liked Sigrid for a girl.”

“And I liked Frey for a boy,” Hela admitted, and you were glad that she was at least responding to you instead of dwelling on her anxieties.

“Me, too. So we’re all set, then. And in a little while, we’ll have our happy, healthy little baby, and we’ll be the happiest little family there ever was.”

“How are you so calm about all of this?” Hela looked over at you, and you simply smiled softly, shrugging a shoulder.

“Well, I think it’s my duty, seeing as you have to do all of the real work today,” you teased, bringing her hand rest against your face. “And because if I’m not calm, I’d be a complete and total mess, and I can’t have my own kid knowing I’m a mess right from birth.”

Hela laughed softly at that, and that was all you had really wanted her to do, so you considered that a success.

“Besides. It’s only fair that I try being the calm one for once.”

“You say that as if I’ve ever had a calm moment in my life.”

You opened your mouth to tease her, but the words died on your lips as she gave an audible wince as another contraction hit her, and you held her hand tighter and gently urged her to keep breathing. Things seemed to be advancing rather quickly, and you were starting to get a little worried about it. The healers had said quick labor wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be a bad thing for Hela, and that thought frightened you more than anything.

“…it feels like I’m ready to push,” Hela said after a moment, and you could see her shifting, no doubt trying to make herself more comfortable, but you hesitated, glancing back at the door and hoping the healer and midwife would return right that second.

“Darling, I… We should wait until they tell you to. It could be too soon.”

“Y/N, I don’t think that I… can…” she bit out, and before you could stop her, she was using her grip on your hand to help sit herself up so that she could push, and you were scrambling to put an arm around her to help support her, stumbling over your words as you desperately tried to talk her through something you’d yet to experience.

By the time Hela laid back against the pillows to rest again, you realized that you had a finite amount of time before the next contraction hit and Hela would try to push again, and you anxiously glanced to the door again, silently praying to the Norns that someone who knew what they were doing would come back. Less than a minute later, you were still alone, and given the way Hela’s grip had tightened on your hand again, she was having another contraction, and all you could do was help her be comfortable as she leaned forward to push again, quietly comforting her as she bit back a pained little cry.

“Hela, I… I don’t know what I’m doing, I-I have to… go get the healer or the midwife or… someone.”

Hela held your hand tighter in response. “Please don’t leave me. Please.” You looked over at her, and couldn’t handle the look of fear that had clouded her eyes. “I’m frightened.”

You swallowed thickly, and nodded, immediately racking your brain in an attempt to think of what the logical thing would be to do without having to leave Hela.

“Okay, um… Let me just… I’ll check to see how… how close the baby is to… meeting us.” You let go of her hand, but stayed as close as you could as you pushed the already-mussed bedsheets out of the way so that you could both have the bed clear of obstruction and be able to see what you were doing. You were far past being shy around Hela, but there was something more than a little awkward about the idea of having to visibly check for the baby, and you found yourself apologizing as you looked and, upon seeing nothing immediately visible, reached to feel for the baby’s head. “Ah… it feels… kind of close? Hela, I don’t know what I’m doing, and there’s… there’s blood, already.” You added the last part on carefully, aware that that would cause Hela more stress than she was already under, but Hela’s expression remained set and unreadable.

“…well, blood is… normal. It’s normal.” You weren’t sure if she was trying to convince herself or you, and by the time you had moved back to her side, she was panting her way through another contraction, and you dutifully helped her sit up, gently talking her through it, but this time, when she laid back against the pillows, she looked far more exhausted than she had been, and her face was starting to drain of color.

You were terrified.

“Hela? Hela, darling, what’s wrong? Talk to me, how are you feeling?”

Hela shrugged a single shoulder, and didn’t open her eyes, and you fought against the urge to panic.

“Hela, are you in pain?”

“Of course I’m in pain, I’m giving birth.” Hela’s voice lacked any true anger, but you couldn’t help but to feel bad all the same. You knew she was frustrated and hurting and tired, but things were a bit past the point of pretending everything was okay.

“I’m gonna check again, okay? Stay with me, yeah?”

Hela said nothing, but tilted her head to watch you, and you went back down to the foot of the bed, startling a little when you realized the baby was half-out already, eyes still closed and not making a sound, which worried you more than you could express. “Hela, it’s… the baby’s almost out, I think… I think one more push and you’ll be done.” You couldn’t help but to feel a little breathless as a wave of excitement, anxiety, and relief all rolled into one washed over you, and you looked back up to Hela. “I’m going to stay down here to, ah… to catch the baby, make sure they get out alright, okay? Are you okay?”

The answer you received was Hela sitting up to give one final push, one hand gripping at the headboard for leverage, and the other gripping the sheet beneath her, and you were momentarily overwhelmed with a sense of pride at how well Hela was doing, and how she had taken things into her own hands when she realized how quickly things were progressing. She was a force of nature, even here in the birthing suite.

You looked back down to focus on helping with the baby, gently pulling it the rest of the way out as Hela pushed, and you couldn’t help but to smile as you looked down at it, heart soaring with unadulterated adoration for the tiny little thing. “It’s a girl… Hela, it’s a girl.” No sooner had you finished saying that did you finally hear the sound of someone coming in, and you looked up at the door to see both the midwife and the healer standing there, towels in hand as they stared at you, looking about as shocked as you felt.

“Um… Hela had the baby,” you finally managed to get out, glancing back down at the bedsheets, and you tried not to think about how the sheets were beginning to stain red beneath your arms. “…there’s blood. There’s lots of blood. It all happened so fast, I-I…”

You glanced up at Hela, and you had a brief moment to take in her tired smile and pale face, and then she was falling back against the pillows, and it took everything in you not to call for her in pure fear. “Something’s wrong! Help her, please!”

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, the midwife was taking the baby from your hands, the healer was coming around the other side of the bed, and you found yourself being nudged away from where you’d been standing. As if in a daze, you looked back up at Hela before going back up beside her, taking her hand in both of yours.

“Hela? Hela, stay with me. Please, everything’s going to be okay now. The healers are back, just… stay with me, please.” You weren’t sure when you had begun to cry, but you couldn’t seem to stop. You looked down at Hela’s hand cupped in your bloodied ones, and swallowed thickly, willing her to squeeze them or even just hold them.

“Y/N…” Hela’s voice was weak, and you looked up at her so quickly that you felt your head spin a bit. “Take care of our daughter for me… Tell her our stories…”

You shook your head, pressing your lips to the back of her hand. “You’ll tell them to her. Hela, please, I… I can’t do this by myself.”

Hela only smiled, and the expression was so peaceful and calm that you thought your heart might stop beating right in your chest.

“Hela. Hela.” You looked down at the healer. “Please, she’s dying!”

“We’ve almost got her stable. Keep talking to her, keep her awake.”

You looked back up at Hela, and when you found her eyes closed, you cupped her face, turning her to look at you. “Hela. Hela, look at me… We’re not through with you yet, do you hear me? This world is not through with you. I need you. Our daughter needs you. I know you want to rest right now, and I promise you can soon, just… stay with me,” you whimpered, relaxing only slightly when she opened her eyes to look at you again. “Stay with us. Hela, we love you so much. I love you so much. You’re all I have left. Please, I’m not ready for goodbye yet. Not when we’ve just barely said hello.”

Hela said nothing, and you couldn’t decide if that was good or bad, but she was still awake, and that was the most important thing, so you continued to talk to her, begging her to stay with you and telling her about all the things you’d do together with the baby. You talked and talked until you finally felt a hand on your shoulder, and you couldn’t help the shock of worry that jolted through you, fearing the worst as you turned to look at the healer.

“She’s stable. We managed to stop the bleeding, and with some bedrest and some time, she’ll be good as new.”

You stared at her blankly while the news processed, and then nodded, tears still running down your face. “Thank you. Thank you, I am forever indebted to you.”

The healer only patted your shoulder, and then turned to the midwife, who had bundled up the baby in a blanket and was now holding her back out to you.

With a careful smile, you took the baby back from her, getting your first real look at her without the blood and afterbirth. She had Hela’s hair, and her eyes, and was looking up at you with such a calm, collected demeanor that you were almost certain she had inherited that straight from Hela, as well.

“…Y/N?” The sound of Hela’s soft voice was enough to get you to turn back to look at her, and you gave her a watery smile as you tiptoed closer to her, holding the baby so that she could see her.

“Isn’t she perfect? Our sweet little angel.” You gently sat yourself on the edge of the bed, being mindful not to shift Hela too much. “Do you think you can hold her, or do you want to get some rest first?” You took the opportunity to get a good look at her, and felt your heart sink at the fact that she still looked extremely pale and half-alive. You couldn’t believe how close you had come to losing her, and knew that you weren’t out of the woods just yet, and so you made the decision for her. “How about you get some rest first, hm? Take a nice little nap. We’ll both stay right here with you, and as soon as you wake up, you can hold her. How does that sound?”

Hela nodded slowly, and you could tell it was an effort just for her to do that much. “…I’m sorry that I scared you.”

You managed a weak smile, and reached over with your free hand to tuck her hair out of her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my entire life. But you’re here now. And you’re not going anywhere. Not for a very, very long time.” You leaned forward to kiss her forehead gently. “Am I understood?”

Hela gave a faint smile, still managing to look up at you with nothing but adoration, even after everything. “Perfectly.”

You smiled a little more, and pressed another kiss to her forehead, and then her nose. “Sleep now. And I’ll clean you up as best I can while you rest, okay?”

Hela nodded again, and gave one last, long look at the baby. “I love you. Both of you, now. And I’ll see you when I wake.”

“The very second.” You smoothed her hair down gently until she closed her eyes, and let yourself carefully relax against her shoulder as the weight of everything you’d just been through finally crashed down on you, and as you looked down at the dozing infant in your arms, you thanked the Norns for watching over Hela and the baby.

[football-and-fanfics]

An Alphabet of Prompts - A

⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️

Who: Harvey Elliott Prompt: A - Anxiety Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of anxiety and PTSD-like symptoms

A/N: this is my first time writing for Harvey, so hope you're feeling I'm portraying him right 😁

⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️

It was a knock... just a knock. That was what Harvey kept repeating to himself to attempt to calm his fears. And it was only just a knock, he already barely felt it anymore, but it had been a hard tackle nonetheless. And a hard tackle to that ankle...

He usually didn't think much about his injury of a year and a half ago anymore, but this tackle, he received during Liverpool's match of two nights ago, took Harvey straight back to that day against Leeds United. Suddenly he felt the pain and fear he had felt back then surge through his body again. How it had hurt so unbelievably much, how he had feared his career was over even before it had properly started, and how he had screamed.

Getting such vivid flashbacks from getting caught by a 'simple' tackle, caught Harvey completely off guard. But what scared him even more were the flashback recurring in the days after the match. A few times a day, even the smallest things could trigger yet more flashbacks. From holding a pair of scissors to something someone said, it would all take Harvey straight back.

---

"Are you alright, Harv? You've been quiet these past days." James slung an arm around the youngster's shoulders as they made their way back to the dressing room from the training pitch.

Even though the question took Harvey by surprise, he was secretly glad James asked it. "N--no... not really." He halted, letting the rest of the team pass by before he continued. "Remember that knock I took during the match a few days ago?" "Yeah," James frowned, "that was a nasty tackle. Especially to your left ankle."

Harvey looked up at James, stammering, but unable to get any words out at first. "H-how did you know?" He finally recollected himself. "It was the only thing I could think of to get you as unsettled as this," James answered compassionately, "I saw it in your eyes the moment you got back to your feet. I had hoped it was just one evening, one bad night's sleep, but it's more than that isn't it?"

Harvey swallowed hard. James' assessment of him was spot on. "I'm having flashbacks..." His voice sounded small and shaky. "The smallest things take me back. A sound, an item, a word someone says..."

James tightened his arm around Harvey's shoulders. "That was a horrible injury you sustained, and I've always admired how you dealt with it, but you can't deny it was very traumatic. Have you... truly allowed yourself to get over it?" Harvey mulled those words over for a few seconds, before he nodded slowly. "I've been so focused on healing physically, that I didn't pay enough attention to healing mentally." "That's what I think, yes," James said softly, "and the realization of that always comes a little while later."

Harvey felt like a balloon deflated inside of him. He suddenly realized that what he was feeling, what was happening to him right now, could all be explained. He wasn't going crazy, it was actually very logical this would happen sooner or later.

"You know the team's here to help you, right?" James said quietly. "Yeah," Harvey nodded, "and I appreciate that." "Good." James gave Harvey's shoulder a gentle, fatherly pat. "Because we all hate to see you hurting. Talk to someone, please." Harvey quietly agreed, thankful for James' words and support. "It's the first thing I'll be doing when we get back inside."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001, @mrswinksy, @themoon-shines PL / LFC tags: @ella33, @candlelitutopia, @percervall

Add me to the tags list | General masterlist

[writer-akihiko]

so mc running away i love it the angst 👌 so if its alright can you the same but with the dorm leaders?(pls do a good ending my poor heart cannot take it-༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Dorm Leaders + MC Running Away

So I apologise for the lack of happy endings, if you want to call it that. The scenarios turned out much more different than the First Years probably because of the power gap I had in mind. Also, for anyone wondering, the Vice Dorm Leaders will have a shot of saving you next! When I get to it... Cut for length. Also please help to share because I limited the tags!

Warnings: Character Death [Not you or the main boy], mentions of abuse and emotional manipulation [On the Reader] and violent actions [The Dorm Leaders]

"I'm not going back."

"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"

No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.

Malleus Draconia

Your words struck a chord in him. He didn't mean it, but when you said that you weren't going back, he almost lost control. What did you mean you weren't going back? You promised him to be his Queen!

No... he's not accepting this. His Queen deserved better. His larger hands encircled your wrists, stopping you in your tracks. No matter how much you tugged and pushed, Malleus' strength was beyond you. In your sole despair, you fell in his embrace.

Every ache and injury struck your core, as you cried your heart out. "I can't go back Malleus," you whimpered. "I... I'm sorry."

Your hands gripped tighter onto his clothes. "I don't mean to fight against you, I-"

The Fae Prince sealed your bruised lips with his own, pulling your smaller form into his lap as he took in the moment of the bittersweet, longing kiss. "YN... listen to me," He said, his own ice cold tears falling onto your cheek, healing your wounds. "You never have to apologise for your suffering. Not even to me."

Malleus held you close as you drowsed off. The gentle smile hardened into a growl, as his back arched, black wings bursting out of his body. Malleus, in his dragon form, summoned the thorns to protect you, holding you as if you were his personal dragon hoard…

The principal, or more accurately the culprit, Dire Crowley was a fool to step out. It disgusted Malleus to his very core, his claws setting the very ground on fire as Crowley stepped closer. No words were exchanged between them. For all the suffering you faced, it was to be paid in tenfold as the dragon took a deep breath, releasing the fire in his chest.

"It was a fraction of her suffering…"

Riddle Rosehearts

He was ballistic. Riddle had been eager to bring you back immediately, but the sheer refusal and attempt to run away made him think that you hate him. He was blaming himself, sobbing to the ground.

Riddle's breakdown made you stop. No matter what you did, you still love him. Riddle's hiccups of sobbing paused at the feeling of your arms wrap around him. He wanted this, he wanted your warmth, he wanted- no… he needed you so badly he'd ceased to function without you.

"I don't hate you Riddle," You said, kissing his tears away. Your pretty Queen of Hearts had ruined the uniform he so proudly kept up with and Riddle himself was unkempt. Riddle cradled your sore body, letting you tell him your stresses and your breaking point abused over and over again by Crowley.

Riddle's heart softened ever so much for you, as he realised that he was to a fault as well. It was then he started to cry for you. "YN… I… I lost control. I know I can't be forgiven for the stress you went through so-"

"Rosehearts! You found her, how wonderful!" The jovial Principal cried out. In his hand was a magic tracking spell and that's when Riddle was struck with guilt once more. He doomed you, again. He… no, he refuses to end it this way.

Your loving self became meek, frightened by the aspect of being under Crowley's care once more. You trembled, reaching out to the hem of Riddle's coat. "Riddle… Please don't let them take me…"

He pulled you up, whispering to you. "When I cast my magic, run YN."

"Ridd-"

"Never thought you'd defy me, Rosehearts. Being a law abider and all~"

"Off With Your Head."

Kalim Al-Asim

"Y-YN?"

Kalim desperately hung onto your ankle, on his knees, begging and bargaining you to stay.

"YN… Please don't leave me again," He begged. "I'll… I'll stop dragging you to parties! I'll get you anything you want just please… please come back to me."

His tears wet your foot, as his grip left light marks on your ankle. Kalim never meant to harm you. He was so desperate to make you stay, but in his heart, he knew that he didn't have the strength to keep you with him if you desired to leave.

"How could you think that?!" You cried out. You stooped to Kalim's level, tackling him in hug so hard that he crashes to the ground. "I… I'd never leave you if I had the choice! I couldn't stand NRC anymore…"

You sobbed into Kalim's chest, wondering when it'd all end. You could never refuse Kalim, but what about everyone else? What about Crowley? Your spine shivered at the monster's name, wanting everything to disappear except for you and Kalim.

Kalim didn't know what to do. He didn't understand why Crowley would do such a thing to you. If Crowley was causing you such pain… He'd just have to get rid of the problem. You only deserve the best, after all. It's not his fault, nor is it yours.

You had cried yourself to utter exhaustion. Kalim gently wrapped you up in his jacket, cradling you to his chest. As if clockwork, Crowley appeared to the heartwarming scene, simply glad that you were going to be returned.

"Al-Asim, Dire should patch her up nicely-"

"No."

Crowley coughed. "What was that?"

"I said no," Kalim reiterated. "I have no reason to listen to you…"

"Since YN and I aren't your students anymore."

Azul Ashengrotto

How grateful he was to find you near the water. He almost turned red at the thought of you willing to search for him. Azul never thought you'd long for him this way, but you knew him, and you knew him well.

As if on cue, you looked beyond the trees to see your beloved, running from the sandy shores barefoot to be caught by your precious Azul. Azul doesn't have the best reflexes, trying to catch you without hurting you.

Azul took one good look at you, and the sight was enough to make him cry. Messy hair, cuts and bruises littering your skin possibly from running through the rocky forest, feet with sores from rocks… and tearful, sorrowful eyes.

Not an inch of sadness deserved to touch you. That was one of his core beliefs. He didn't say anything to prompt you to tell about what you'd been suffering. He knew. He knew every line of the story, and it made him ever so guilty that it led to this. If he just paid more attention to you, or at least try to.

Azul offered you everything. An ear to listen and his body for comfort, with his arms wrapping about you. If the simple action was enough for your forgiveness, he'd do it over and over again.

It was for a moment Azul held you, before running the water with you in tow. From the forest emerged the tweels, but what was behind you made you scream. Crowley, with his magic, retaliating against the twins' magic.

Azul wrapped you around his tentacles, drifting further into the ocean with you. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "YN, close your eyes. Don't look."

You shut your eyes tight as you did, hiding yourself in Azul's chest, away from the scene.

"May we never see you again, Crowley."

Azul and the twins in their merforms plummet into the ocean, deep down where Crowley would never come to touch you.

Idia Shroud

He wasn't surprised that the huge robot scared you. It was his secret project after all. He immediately let himself out of the robot, but he was hesitant to step into the forest. Idia was scared, but he still had to protect you!

"Y-YN..."

"Idia!..."

You stopped running, seeing your boyfriend pop out of the robot. Idia was quick to get over his reluctance as his panic shifts to your injuries instead. He wanted to cry out of joy from the mere chance of finding you.

Idia tried to treat your wounds as best as he could with the emergency kit conveniently equipped [he really did think of everything] although his wrapping technique was unkempt at best.

Idia's attempts to heal you made you forget of all the suffering. You couldn't help but laugh, realising how much you missed Idia. He knew that you needed this time. Oh, how he wanted to whisk you away...

But he might as well. You're his, right?

Crowley didn't get close to reaching you. Idia thought of it all. He tracked every move the principal made, fooling Crowley to think that Idia was with you the entire time, with the tracking device that Crowley so faithfully gave him.

"How desperate... it's honestly funny..." Idia scoffed at the idea of Crowley getting to you.

With the S.T.Y.X androids, Idia confronted Crowley, who was in sheer confusion.

"Crowley… burn in hell."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona didn't hold back. He couldn't believe you would say such a thign to him… The only conclusion he reached to was that you hated him. You hated his very core, just like everyone else… He was scared. It frightened him to the core that after everything he did, you still hated him.

"YN… stop fucking around with me," He said, grabbing onto your wrist. He wasn't about to throw a tantrum then and there. He had to get things straight. "Hey… tell me. Was I just a waste for you?"

"W-What are you talking about Leona?" You pushed against his chest, trying to get some distance but Leona was way stronger than you. The lion couldn't listen to reason. He simply went on about how you must've hated him, and how much you despised him.

"Did I mean nothing to you, YN?" Leona was shaking, his shoulders trembling from the mere thought of hearing those words.

You wrapped your arms around Leona, pulling him in close. "I never did… How dare you think that you stupid lion?!" You said, sobbing your heart out. You were equally hurt, but you never once thought Leona would think such a thing.

The emotional reunion was interrupted by the principal himself, pretending to be moved by such a scene. The false pretense of safety caught on to you, and you were sent into a panic, clinging onto Leona for fear of your life.

"I hate you!" You yelled, your body crumpling to the ground just as Leona caught you. "I hate you, I hate you. I don't want to go back, don't make me!"

If you were to scream anymore, you might collapse from exhaustion. Leona was quick to carry you in his arms, holding you close to his chest, where you were comforted by his heartbeat.

"Hoi, good for nothing principal," Leona called out, a single claw drawn out, igniting his Unique Magic.

"Move before I turn you to sand."

Vil Schoenheit

He was stunned to see you in such a state. He called out for you, and you stopped in your tracks. Was he that incompetent that he can't keep you with him? Did he not treat you right? Was his mere presence just torture for you?

Vil couldn't keep it in anymore. He needed to know. "YN… why won't you come back? Tell me, is it my fault? Am I not worthy of you?!"

The once prideful queen fell into shambles of insecurity as his mind won't stop painting images of you walking away from him, of you calling him your doom, of him being your captor… No, he didn't mean it…

"Was I the villain in your story?! WAS I?!"

Vil had never cried as much as he did. He needed to know that you didn't of him as a nuisance. He really was worthless if he made you feel unwanted… so please, he needed an answer.

"How could you think that, my love?"

You stooped to Vil's level, brushing away the tears that ruined his makeup with your very hands. Oh, your poor Vil… You were too selfish, thinking of your own suffering. With Vil in your arms, you felt whole once again. You gave Vil your actual answer, relenting every moment of your stress that stemmed from Crowley.

Oh… how his sweet potato must've suffered. Vil had a stuck of guilt, considering that he was under an Overblot as well. No matter, he had to make things right. For your sake, for his love's sake.

"YN, Crowley is trying to find you. But I… I have to set things right," He said, pulling you up.

The rustle of leaves had you on guard as from it came Dire Crowley, revelling in the scene.

"Schoenheit. You are supposed to bring LN YN to me immediately as I ordered."

Vil for once scared you. It scared you how enraged he was, and your heart wrenched at seeing the ink droplets by his hand.

"Vil, don't you dare-"

He turned back to you, whispering for you to run to Rook's safety. "Don't cry, my love."

You tried to hold the tears once again as you saw Vil shifting forms to an ink-like mess, this time his rage directed at Crowley. You could only run away, praying in your heart that Vil was safe.

[edensrose]

legolas x reader where she insists on teaching him how to swim and he gets embarrassed cause shes wet so her clothing sticks to her and becomes kind of revealing pls 🥺

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ legolas ⠀〳 reader⠀ ❜࿔

· ⊰ synopsis. after a long walk through the forest you pester your elven companion about teaching him to swim after much struggle, convince him. however, the young prince was not prepared for the aftermath of your little dip

· ⊰ note. this is my first time actually writing for him and honestly, I'm a little nervous. I assumed this was somewhere in the past so legolas is more or less a 'teenager' here — enjoy!

“Oh come on Legolas! You have to learn to swim somewhere along the line!”

Keen eyes meet those of hesitance before motioning towards the riverbed once more. “It won’t be that bad, I’ll be with you the entire time. Besides,” you pause to grab his hand. “The waters are slow today, it’s the safest time.’’ 

And still, the young elf prince held true to his former response: “I’m unsure. . .’’ 

It started with a simple walk along the forest, enjoying the recent flourish of spring’s arrival 一 blooming flowers, colourful trees ; until you had come across the river. One would think Legolas would jump in immediately, had he no love for nature and endless opportunities to be reckless within it? Surely, the elf who stood before you was still the friend you knew since birth. . . right?

A part of you almost considered the possibility of him being replaced by a skin-crawler. 

“Come onnnnn!” With a yelp, Legolas can all but whine as you shake him by both the arms. “Since when have you become so boring?’’ “Boring!’’ Absurd, how dare you even insinuate that he, Legolas Thrandulion, is a bore!?

“Well you certainly are acting like it!”

“Oh hush! We’ll do it!”

He huffs, yet the gleam that came over your face made the little loss suddenly feel worth it. “Promise you won’t let me drown?” Gentle cerulean meet your dazzled hues and for a second you bring a finger to your chin. 

“Hmm. . . Well, I’ll have to think about that.’’ “Y/N!”

You brush him off with a laugh, dismissing his prior worries. After all, were you not the person who held most of his trust? Legolas was soon reminded of that as the lesson ensued. 

Admittedly, it was rather amusing at first 一 watching him flop around like a fish for his first couple of attempts. You were unsure what possessed him to dip his head below the waters during a particular instance, but when he shot back up he was gaping and clinging to you as if you were life itself. A struggle here, a little effort there ; and before you knew it he caught on like the clever elf that he is. 

“See? You were worried for nothing!”

Legolas rolls his eyes before slapping the water in front of him. “Rightfully so. You manage to hold most of my trust and yet none of it at all.’’ Recovering from the splash, you return it tenfold with an exclaiming: “rude!” 

The remainder of the afternoon was spent swimming around and occasionally engaging in miniature splash wars. Laughter echoed through the forest as you and your friend wasted but a second of your time 一 every minute spent there, together, laughing. . . every little moment meant more than either of you would let on to believe. 

“Oh, is someone tired?’’ A tease meets your ear, prompting you to crack open an eye from your position of temporarily leaning against one of the rocks. “Am not, I told you it was just a little rest.’’ 

“Uhuh,’’ the warm sensation below your eyes leaves you sighing. “Your eyes are drooping, Mellon.’’ Knees ease towards your chest as Legolas dips his arms below them and lifts you up in a bridal carry. “Come,’’ he chuckles. “I’m afraid you may just fall asleep in this river. What will happen if an orc decides to snatch you up?’’ “I hope it’s a handsome orc.’’

His nose curls upwards. “Listen to yourself. I don’t know whether you are simply tired or acting as usual.’’ You can all but laugh at the twist of his face. “Perhaps a bit of both, who knows?’’ With that, you let yourself down from his hold and took a step back to analyse yourself. 

Soaked. 

This was your idea to begin with, however, you may just come to regret it. Spring’s warmth had yet to settle over the land and Winter’s chill still lingered, it seemed. 

Whatever, you had fun. That’s all that matters. 

Attempting to ignore the icy tingles on your skin, you bundled up the material of your shirt and ringed it. Home would not be far, surely, you could manage with the newfound cold. 

However, your little breathy shivers were all too noticeable to Legolas, who then turned to offer you his outer coat 一 yet not a word left his lips. As if his voice had become lodged within the centre of his throat. 

Unfortunately for the elf prince, he had not taken into consideration the consequences of your mini venture. In fact, it was something that would never have crossed his mind on an average day. . . And now, a part of him cursed at his past self for simply not holding strong and keeping true to his stand. 

Your clothing, having been soaked beyond measure, now drew back and clung to your skin. . . which was now most visible within the moonlight. 

“O-Oh Valar,’’ he gasped at the realisation of his stare and quickly stumbled back after slapping his hands over his eyes. “Goheno nin!’’ 

You swore to all of Middle-Earth that you had never seen Legolas display so many shades of pink in your life; but you were soon to join him once the actuality of the situation hit you straight in the face. You too sprung back with a yelp and hastily covered the exposed areas as best you could. 

The noise made Legolas wince once more and this time promptly spin around with a slew of elvish apologies following in suit. Curses past Legolas, curses! If only you simply refused! 

Silence found its way as the two of you tried to make sense of the situation and all its recent chaos. Whilst you remained near a tree with arms wrapped tight to your form, Legolas strayed further away, threatening to fall into the river and yet refusing to remove his hands from his eyes. As if somehow, someway, you would magically teleport in front of him and he would unintentionally disrespect you. 

“. . . Legolas?” 

“Goheno nin.’’ 

“No 一 Legolas it’s fine.’’ 

It took a second, but soon he collected his words. “Would. . . Would you like my coat?’’ With the way his voice wavered, you could tell his cheeks still burned. A part of you wanted to tease him, but your better judgement forced it down ; after all, you weren’t any better. 

After a short hum of confirmation, the elf ( whilst keeping one of his hands fixed to his eyes ) held his coat out for you. It took a second to wrap it around but once done, you stood before him once more. 

“I’m done,’’ 

“Are you sure?”

You couldn’t help a laugh at the hesitance of the male and despite the faint warmth that still found your face, you reached and gingerly wrapped your fingers around his wrist. “I’m sure,’’ a purse of your lips ; he wasn’t budging. 

“Legolas, won’t you look at me?’’ 

Slowly, you remove his hand and glance up at his shut lids. He sure was going to be stubborn about this, hmm? “Please?” 

A little delay, yet in a moment you were peering back into those familiar shimmering sapphires. He almost seemed dazed, or perhaps he was simply still embarrassed? You could not blame him. 

With a crane of your neck, you leaned up to bring your face inches from his, ignoring the abrupt hitched breath as you pressed a light peck to the tip of his nose. Fingers curled into the collar of his shirt, holding him in place whilst you observed the burst of rest across his cheeks once more. 

“Y-Y/N -”

“We should head back.’’ Is all you granted him before releasing the collar and turning from the once again, flustered elf 一 all with a faint smirk to your lips. 

Have mercy on him, will you not?

[ayamturd]

cuddles│technoblade

summary: you want cuddles, but techno’s busy; laughs turn insecure, yet love overpowers it all

prompt: “Why won’t you let me love you?”

warnings: none, only fluff

pairing: in-game c!technoblade

a/n: this is my entry for @mayasimagines​‘ 600 writing event!! huge props and congratulatory once more, they’re such a talented and creative writer (pls go give them love!)

i was really tempted to make it angst, i won’t lie lol (also techno visual based off SAD-ist design cause pretty pig make yam go brrrr)

wc: (1.4k) - m.list

“Techno.”

Tilting his head to glance behind him, Technoblade’s ear twitched once spotting you. You were dressed comfortable from the cold weather despite the roaring fire besides him. Holding a pillow you carried from bed, you rested your chin above it while clutching the soft fabric close.

He turned back to his work before addressing you, mixing the most recent ingredients he gathered the same day in a small brewing pot. The potion glistened in the dark of the night, the concoction dyed a subtle grey as it was unfinished. 

“What?”

You padded closer to him, and with him sat low at the work bench, you leaned onto him from behind, resting against his back while laying on his shoulder. He barely moved from your current position on him. 

“Cuddle.” He gave a small noise to indicate that he heard you, but continued to stir his potion. Being the patient person you were, you waited until the color slowly shifted its hue as a sign it was finished. Setting the spoon aside, Techno grabbed the nearest rag and began cleaning his hand. 

“I’m busy,” he murmured, still distracted as he looked back to his current elixir on the stand. You frowned from his words, and as if he could sense it, he tried to reassure you. “But I’ll try for later if I can.” 

That wasn’t good enough, you thought. With the pillow trapped between the two of you, you moved your arms around him and held his torso, hooking your hands together to secure him. 

“But… cuddles?” 

In spite of your attempts, Techno disregarded the small and childlike tone you used. You started to pout from his lack of response and narrowed your eyes in annoyance. Moments passed without an answer, and you lifted your head back up the stairs while still settled close to his neck, the idea of going to bed alone making you discourage to make the trek back. 

With a slight sigh, you let go of him completely and hugged the pillow again, gathering yourself before heading towards the fireplace. Picking up the disregarded throw blanket on the armchair, you dropped the pillow close to the fire and plopped yourself on it, crossing your legs while wrapping the blanket around you comfortably. 

The warmth from the fire would have to do in place of Technoblade’s body heat, and with your backed turned towards it, you leaned onto your placed palms to observe him.

After a few minutes, Techno couldn’t ignore your staring any longer, sighing and turning towards you. He had his hand against his knee with the other rested on his table, twisting his body.

“What are you doin’?”

Slightly smirking from his question, you took his appearance, it being the first time you could fully saw him with his attention on you for the first time that day. His hair was disheveled, yet fluffy as it encompassed his face, like a halo to emphasize his handsome features. 

Though white and sometimes argued empty, you loved staring into his eyes. They always expressed more than what he was willing to voice, and although they currently were squinted from confusion, they were filled with a charm most wouldn’t see from him. 

You looked him up and down, noting his casual wear and the way he rolled his sleeves up, before concentrating on his face again.

“I wanna be near you, you’ve been busy all day.” 

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head and shifting his body completely to face you, resting his elbows on both his knees and tilting his head down at you. 

“You sure are bein’ clingy, huh?” Your dazed grin dropped immediately from his teasing, and the action made Techno laugh loudly, it devolving to his classic snickering.

Reaching behind you, you snatched the chair cushion and chucked it his way. Technoblade obviously caught the aimed projectile mid throw but was weak to his current laughing fit. 

You pushed yourself promptly off the ground, and with a roll of your eyes, began walking away. Techno reached out to grab you, his laugh fading with a big smile.

“Wait, wait-” You stepped back before his hand could nab you, and crossed your arms at him.

“No, leave me alone. You’re being mean.” 

He chuckled, and stood up, his height in full as he towered over you. Shrieking from his playful glare, he bounded for you while you tried to run. You were quickly caught and yelled loudly once picked up off the ground. 

With his hands on your waist, he spun you fast, laughing with you and pulling you close to him. His breath tickled your neck while his tusks rubbed gently against your hair. He continued to spin you relentlessly, your feet pathetically dangling helplessly below. 

Eventually you grew tired and dizzy from the notion, shouting out in giggles for him to stop. He paused from your protests, and without warning, threw you up in the air.

You gasped from the unexpected action, voice caught in your throat from the sudden motion and the fear that gripped you. Before you knew what was happening, you were back in his arms, instead held bridal style within his arms. 

Gripping onto his dress shirt and with wide eyes, you looked up at his proud grin. What a show off. 

You smacked him, though not hard, and he laughed again. Wrapping your arms his neck, you laughed with him, smothering yourself into his chest and breathing in his scent. You really did miss him today, and with his hands holding you, you melted from the close contact. 

While your laughing waned, his did not. You stared up at him like before, watching how beautiful he was in the dim lighting against the crackling fire and the open starry darkness of the night in contrast. You adored him for his openness with you, you loved him for being him around you. 

Tenderly, you put a hand on his cheek, turning his focus onto you. You lifted yourself up in his arms, and ever so slowly, leaned up to kiss him. Before you could, however, he turned his head away, the action small yet noticeable to your acute senses and knowing eyes. 

You pouted lightheartedly, hanging your head back dramatically as a joke. 

“Why won’t you let me love you?”

Techno became silent, swallowing a harsh inhale from the innocent and obviously meaningless tease. Despite the previous laughs, the room’s atmosphere changed, a now empty and tense space. 

Your feigned heartbreak-act softened, though the frown remained in place. You knew what he was doing; he was going too deep in thought and over analyzing, letting the voices reign control over insecurities and fear. No matter how strong or vicious he may seem to others, you knew him and that essentially, he was a man who was too anxious and too doubtful of himself for his own good. 

With a comforting smile, you called his name, bringing him back after briefly falling into the void. 

“Hey love?”

Blinking repeatedly to regain control, Techno snapped his head at you, your voice calm and firm in spite all that he was forced to hear. He hummed as to answer, and you cupped his cheeks before he could escape your attempted kiss again. 

He was still for a few seconds, before becoming undone and lifting you closer towards his lips, fingers curling tightly on you as to express the uproar of emotions he held for you. 

You pulled yourself up, hand reaching into his hair while the other remained kindly to his light stubble. Techno supported you further by shifting you, his arm now against your back that cradled you into a sitting position. 

The kiss was tender and passionate, yet more gentle than one would assume. All you could feel was him and him alone, nothing breaking the pure moment of bliss and true pleasure between the two of you. 

You pulled away suddenly, while fast, but to express anything left unsaid between your shared acts. 

“Love you,” you whispered, still out of breath from the loss of air. Techno couldn’t help the adoring gaze he showed for you, his own voice bright from the high of your taste. He met your forehead halfway, and closed his eyes while speaking so closely to you. 

“Heh, and I you, darlin’.”

“Cuddles now?”

Techno nodded, using his hands to carry your thighs as they moved to wrap around his torso instead. He walked you both towards the stairway to your bedroom, his hold on you never faltering against him. 

“Yeah, cuddles now.”