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snowy-vee · 1 year ago

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All Mine (2)

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

n/a: I've spent my whole day squishing my head to finishing it today, and here it is! Also I won't be uploading the pt.2 of Academic Rivals, because I prefer to leave it as a One-Shot but I have in mind another, much better, plot with the trope Enemies to Lovers with Ellie. Read the final note!!

Pt. 1 Here Pt.3 Here

Inform yourself about what's happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.

Ellie knocked on your door for the third time that morning. The first one was before her morning run, the second one was after that and the third was once she was done in the bathroom.

When she heard no answer, she went in and opened the curtains right away. “Get up, it’s the same every morning.”

You covered your face with the blankets to avoid the sun, saying, “Give me five more minutes,” but Ellie wouldn’t have it.

She got on the bed and shook you. “You have practice in an hour; I’m not letting you leave without breakfast, and then you’ll complain I didn’t wake you up,” she said. “Come on, get up.”

Sitting upright in bed, you let out a sigh, looked at the clock on the nightstand, and let out a moan. “Els, just give me five minutes.”

She shrugged and said, “Your call,” but before she could move, you grabbed her arm and drew her nearer to you.

“Lay down with me for those five minutes,” you requested, hugging her until you managed to lay her down beside you, even though she was fighting to break free. You didn’t want to let her go.

“Fine! Just five minutes, I’ll set the alarm, I have places to be,” she said, taking her phone out of her sweatpants pocket.

When she was done, you muttered, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, shut up,” and placed her phone on your bedside table. With a smile on your face, you raised the covers to allow Ellie to slide into them, encircling her waist with your arms and placing your head on her chest.

She was trying not to touch you with her free hand and you could hear how quickly her heart was beating, as if it was your first time sharing a bed. “You can give me a hug too,” you muttered.

With a clear throat, she said, “If that’s what you want.”

You appreciated that she was a little flustered, even if you couldn’t see her face. It was something you truly enjoyed doing to her.

She relaxed and soon fell asleep. Your plan was to sleep too, but you were thinking about where she had to go when her classes didn’t start until 2 p.m. You turned around slowly and grabbed her phone, unlocking it.

¡Ding!

The notification startled you for a moment, almost making you scream. You quickly checked if Ellie woke up because of the sound, but she was asleep.

“You have to be kidding me,” you whispered, reading the notification from the panel.

Dina (Campus) : I’ll see you in an hour then! I truly want to try those croissants you’ve been talking about, and I also wan…

Rolling your eyes was the least you could do. You shook your head, going to the alarm and deactivating it. Dina was a big girl; she could eat those croissants alone. You hoped she choked on them.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The sound of the TV, the microwave, and your humming was enough to wake her up. She yawned and stretched out, all calm until she saw how late it was.

“Fuck!” Ellie said getting up from the bed and grabbing her phone “No,no,no…”

You were scrolling on your phone, having breakfast, hearing how she was going side to side. From the bathroom to her bedroom and vice versa until she came to the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you woke me up? I told you I had places to be!” she walked past you to the entrance to put her white sneakers on.

“Good Morning to you too” you said sarcastically “I thought it was your classes where you had to go, it’s 1 p.m, you still have time”

Ellie shook her head “No, it was something else! What are you doing here, tho? Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“I woke up like 30 minutes before you, so” you shrugged “You’re not going to drive me to campus today?”

“Uh…” She was roaming through her backpack making sure she had everything “I can’t today, sorry but here, call an Uber”

She left some money on the table beside your plate before stealing on of your toasts “Bye, see you later!”

“She is joking, right?” you thought picking up the money. “Seriously, Ellie?!”

You yelled from the balcony, seeing Ellie running to her car

“Sorry, no time!” She yelled back getting into her car with her mouth full of the toast.

The thing is, Ellie was in a hurry. She had arranged to meet up with Dina for breakfast before class at a café she had suggested herself, and on top of that, she had overslept.

She started the car and began to drive. When she reached a red traffic light, she took the opportunity to call Dina, who answered almost immediately as if she had been waiting for her. She sounded a bit annoyed; after all, she had been waiting for her for a long time. But she understood that Ellie had overslept. She suggested they meet at the entrance of the building where they had their only class together.

Obviously, Ellie agreed, but she couldn’t go empty-handed. So, as soon as she arrived on campus, she went to the cafeteria, ordered two coffees, and some cookies that Dina had mentioned she liked yesterday.

“Ellie, you didn’t need to buy breakfast,” the dark-haired girl said, trying to hide her big smile. She grabbed the bag and chuckled softly, looking at the cookies. “Wow, you sure know how to apologize.”

“Sorry, again, for standing you up. It wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s okay. Next time, I’ll come pick you up at your place.”

Next time? That meant Dina wanted to keep meeting up. Ellie nodded energetically. By the time class started, they had finished breakfast, talked about different things, sat together, and also had small conversations during class.

“That’s all for today. Remember, we start presentations in two weeks. Goodbye,” the professor said, collecting his briefcase and leaving the classroom.

“Well, on Tuesday, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll go to a café to finish it?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Ellie said, gathering her things. “See you tonight at the party?”

“Yes, but aren’t you going to the parking lot?” Dina asked, watching as Ellie walked in the opposite direction.

“No, I have one more class, and then I’m meeting a friend.”

Dina nodded, waving goodbye. Ellie didn’t have another class, but she usually waited for her outside hers to go eat together. She had no idea why she had said that.

Your building wasn’t far from hers, so in less than 20 minutes, she arrived. She went up to the second floor and could see people coming out of your class, and finally you, but behind you was Abby Anderson. Ellie saw how she grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the others. It seemed like you were arguing about something until you pushed her aside and quickly walked to the stairs.

“Ellie? I didn’t think you were going to come pick me up today. Never mind, let’s go!” you said, intertwining your arms, almost dragging her to get out of there quickly. “I think they’re serving carbonara pasta in the dining hall today. You love pasta, right? How great that it’s on the menu today.”

Ellie nodded, frowning as she glanced at Abby once more before leaving. She would ask you about it later…

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“I don’t like it, I’ll just wear something else,” Ellie said, entering your room for the third time with a different outfit than before. You rolled your eyes at her. “Ellie, I’m going to hit you if you don’t decide,” you said, watching her with frustration as she seemed unable to choose her clothes for the party. “Who do you want to look so good for?”

“No one. Could you help me instead of judging?” she replied, tossing the shirt she was taking off towards you. You dodged it, laughing, before throwing it back at her.

“Cargo pants and a black top, good combo, simple and it looks great on you,” you suggested. A few minutes later, she came back into your room wearing the suggested outfit. “See? I never fail,” you said with a grin.

“Fine,” she said, sitting on your bed as she watched you apply makeup. You were wearing a brown top tied at the top with a bow and a denim mini skirt. Ellie couldn’t help but admire your body, especially your legs, and you could see her doing so in the mirror. With a smile, you turned to her, and her gaze shot up to your face.

“Let me do your makeup,” you said.

“Why?” she narrowed her eyes and shook her head as she watched you approach with a playful smile. “Okay, but only the eyeliner.”

“Kay. Close your eyes,” you requested, opening the black eyeliner as you positioned yourself between her legs. “I’m going to sit on you.”

“Is that necessary?” Ellie asked, opening her eyes slightly, to which you nodded.

“I’m not comfortable, and if I’m not comfortable, it won’t turn out well,” you said, sitting on her and starting to apply the makeup. The only sounds in the room were your breaths and the low music from the speaker. “So… where did you have to go early this morning?”

“I had something important,” Ellie said, almost stuttering. She didn’t expect you to ask anything, but why wasn’t she telling you the truth? Why did she feel weird mentioning that she had plans with Dina?

“Ah, really?” you responded vaguely, clicking your tongue.

“Yeah… And what were you talking about with Abby?”

“Something important,” you shrugged. “There, it’s done, open your eyes.”

Ellie opened them, blinking a bit, smiling sideways. “Does it look good on me?”

You nodded, still on top of her. You grabbed her cheeks and squeezed gently, making her lips press together, and asked, making eye contact with her, “Is it for Dina that you’re getting all dressed up?”

“Maybe”

“Are you planning to kiss her tonight?”

“Maybe?” Ellie was confused about where these questions were coming from and at the same time thinking about how well you knew her. Perhaps she shouldn’t have ‘hidden’ her meeting with Dina from you in the morning…

“When was your last kiss? Like four years ago, right? Wow, you’re rusty,” you teased.

“Well, let’s not exaggerate,” she replied, her cheeks turning pink, not only from your grip that was tightening more and more but also from the image that crossed her mind of kissing Dina.

“Do you want to practice?”

“I mean… I don’t want her to think that I don’t know how to kiss. I know how to; I’ve kissed a lot of girls.”

“You only kissed two girls: me, for your first kiss and your ex-girlfriend, Cat. The little kisses at some parties while playing ‘spin the bottle’ don’t count.”

“Well, they should because I kissed plenty of girls,” Ellie mumbled.

“Decide before I change my mind or suit yourself,” you said, finally releasing her.

Ellie bit her cheek from the inside before nodding. “Okay, let’s practice.”

You did not wait to join your lips to hers, starting a slow kiss with a slow peace. Your arms were resting on her shoulders, bringing her closer to you, and your hands were starting to play with her hair. You wanted to explore Ellie’s mouth; you needed to feel her.

The kiss became deeper, and you buried yourselves more into each other’s mouths eagerly, feeling your lips closer as if there was a need that must be fulfilled. Soon Ellie’s tongue found yours, and they intertwined, making you moan in the midst of the kiss.

That made Ellie press her hands that were on your thighs; she had liked that sound a bit too much. Slowly she began to slide her hands upward until she touched the hem of your skirt, which was hiked up due to the position you were in.

Your breaths became more ragged as the rythm of the kiss quickened, and you wanted to continue, but no. If you didn’t stop, Ellie wouldn’t learn, she wouldn’t learn that only you could kiss her like that, you had to keep her yearning for more of you.

So you had to cut it off and watch as Ellie tried to reconnect your lips; it was so satisfying, you had to stop her gently, “Wow, Els, calm down, this is practice,” you said in a joking tone, getting off her, patting her knee to get her attention. She was still lying on the bed with an embarrassed expression on her face. “There’s a party we have to attend, come on.”

You grabbed your minibag and left your room to the front door, and Ellie did nothing but get up and follow you, not without first processing what had just happened a few seconds ago.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Ellie opened the passenger door once you arrived so that you could get out of the car.

She had to park a bit far from the house, but from there, you could hear the music and there were already drunk people in the street as you walked towards the entrance. You walked with your arms intertwined as you told Ellie the most recent gossip you had heard in the locker room or that you had been told, and Ellie listened, reacting when she could put faces to the names.

“He said that it was Sarah’s underwear, and Sarah denied it, saying that she was not ghetto and that she would never wear that. Imagine who snapped? April!”

“The church girl with brown hair?”

“Yeah, that one! It was so messy because the previous day she was preaching about how she was going to see the pearly gates since she was one of the last ‘pure’ girls on the team.”

“No way!”

“Yes, way! She’s so dumb, I hate her and more with the fa-”

“Hi, Ellie.”

Oh, you were going to kill this bitch. Dina was sitting on the porch of the house with a glass in her hand; she had probably been there for a short time. She looked at Ellie with a wide smile that decreased when she looked at you.

“I’ll see you inside,” you said, letting go of Ellie and passing by Dina without saying anything. Once inside, you joined your group of friends who were already quite drunk; they all greeted you, some with mini hugs or two kisses before giving you a glass full of rum and cola, more rum than cola. “You all know me better than I know myself.”

“Of course we do, silly, we love you.” You let yourself fall into the couch, tasting the drink, when your eyes diverted to see Ellie and Dina finally entering the party, giggling and whispering in each other’s ears because of how loud the music was.

“I love you too, April!” You smiled in her direction, drank all the liquid in your cup in one go, and handed it to her. “Be a doll and refill this.”

April looked at the rest of the girls and then at you, grabbing it. “Slow down, we don’t want you to repeat the Anderson accident again.”

The ginger girl beside April pushed her slightly, looking at you with her eyes wide open and laughing awkwardly. “She doesn’t mean that.”

Your eye twitched looking at April go refill your drink; you were going to brush it off for now because you had better enemies to fight than her. You had a whole plan on how to snatch Ellie away from Dina, but it hadn’t been formulated clearly, and you didn’t like to act on impulse. Anyway, you were at a party, and you were going to enjoy it.

By the time it was 3 a.m., you were already dancing on the table and shouting the lyrics of the songs you knew, swaying your hips against whoever. You stepped aside for a moment, saying that you were going for another drink, jumping off the table almost falling to the floor, but you could only laugh; everything was funny to you at that moment, and you wasn’t even that drunk! You had high tolerance, only your tongue was kind of asleep and you were stumbling from time to time but you loved to play silly and pretend to be more gone then you really were.

You reached the kitchen, looking for a new glass in the cabinets because you had no idea where you had thrown yours, when you found one, you began to decide what liquor to drink with eeny, meeny, miny, moe, before someone took away the glass and took you somewhere no matter how much you protested. The other person had a strong grip, and no matter how vaguely you were saying to let you go, they didn’t.

“I can’t believe you have me added as Dina (Campus), how lame, I’m going to change it,” Dina said, changing her contact name, but Ellie, who had seen the situation, was not paying attention.

“As you wish,” Ellie murmured, watching you disappear to the second floor; that didn’t sit well with her.

“Done!” Dina smiled, returning the phone to its owner, but Ellie’s gaze seemed worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Wait for me here, yeah? I’ll be back,” Ellie said, grabbing her phone and following where she last saw you.

She went upstairs dodging some drunk people and the long wait line to enter the bathroom, trying to see if you were in any of them, walking in the hallway close to the door to see if she could hear your voice in any of them until one door abruptly opened and you came out of it with teary eyes but laughing. (What happened in the room?)

“Are you okay?” She asked. Hearing her voice surprised you.

“How long have you been there?” Depending on her answer, you had two reactions.

“I just got here, I was searching for you.”

There it was! The cherry on top of your plan. You hugged Ellie and started slowly sobbing, whispering in her ear, “I want to go home now, please…”

“Hey, what happened? what’s wrong?” Ellie asked, breaking the hug to look at you and wipe your tears with her thumbs. “Let’s go.”

She held your hand and walked to the stairs, turning her head for a moment to look at you once more, and her eyes saw the other person who was in the room with you. Abby Anderson.

Had she made you cry? She was lucky that Ellie was more concerned about getting you out of the party than beating her up.

“Wait, Ellie, my bag is in the living room with the team,” you said before she went outside.

“Oh, okay, wait here, I’ll get it for you then.” You nodded and waited until you couldn’t see her to fucking smile because of your victory.

“Hey,” a touch on your shoulder made you come out of your little mental dance, “Have you seen Ellie? She went somewhere around 15 minutes ago, and I can’t find her.”

Of course it was Dina…

“She doesn’t feel well, must be something she ate before.”

“You sure? Should I take her to the hospital?”

“No worries, we are going now, but here, money for an Uber,” you said, taking some money out of your pocket.

The same money Ellie gave you this morning. You were giving it to her, and for you, it felt so good as you patted her shoulder and sighed with a little smirk.

Dina thought you were calling her poor and mumbled a “fuck you” before dropping the money on the floor and leaving you there just in time for Ellie to come back with your bag.

“Sorry, there were a lot of people in the way,” she handed the bag to you, “Whose money is that?”

“Yours,” you grabbed the bag and started walking out. Ellie frowned, confused, but still picked up the money; it was free money, and everybody was too drunk to miss some dollars. She felt as if she was forgetting to do something before leaving. “Els!”

“Coming!” Whatever, maybe tomorrow she’ll remember; now she had to assist her best friend and be there for her as she always did… like a loyal puppy, a cute and precious one of your property.

Note: I will upload Pt.3 once this chapter and the first one reach 250 so I have time to write and to know that you all like it and want more ty♡♡

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #tlou ellie #tlou2 #ellie tlou smut #tlou #dina tlou #abby tlou #wlw #lgbtq #the last of us fanfiction #ellie fanfic #snowy vee

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m00nkissedlover · 1 month ago

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・｡Rings 💍

You've ordered: a bone-shaped lemon tart! enjoy!

"It's always been just him and me, together."

Divus Crewel x spouse! reader | word count: 994 words

Summary: the students don't know you're married to their alchemy professor 💍 (silly little crewel drabble! :D)

Warnings: kinda rushed, not proofread. other than that, none!

Note: not my best work, but hey- it is what it is T-T. i will definitely be writing more for crewel in the future! also, i use they/them pronouns for reader. feel free to change them to your preferred pronouns while reading

"Did you guys know that Professor Y/n is married?" Ace exclaimed, receiving reactions of utter shock and complete indifference.

"You're just now finding out?" Jamil asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Wait, you knew? Since when?" Grim asked, his face stuffed with a meat filled pastry.

"Since the first day of class. I noticed the ring when they was handing out papers."

"Do you know who they're married to?" Kalim questioned, Jamil shaking his head.

"All I know is that they're married to a professor. I happened to overhear them talking with another student who asked."

"Professor Trein's too damn old to be their husband and Coach Vargas already told us he's not gonna get married anytime soon." Deuce explained. "And we've never seen Professor Crewel wearing a ring."

"Maybe he doesn't teach here?" Grim mumbled, finishing up his pastry and making a failed attempt to take Deuce's.

"Look! There they are." Ace announced.

The others turned around to see you walking through the cafeteria, greeting students. When you spotted their table, you smiled and waved at them, stepping over. "Good morning everyone! How are you all doing today?" you asked, your voice warm and inviting.

The boys all gave pretty halfhearted responses as their eyes drifted to the ring on your finger. Whoever your husband was, he was definitely loaded. That diamond was the size of their heads.

You followed their gaze, giving a quiet laugh as you reached you hand out, letting them get a better look at the ring. "Before you all ask: yes, i am married."

"Wow! That's a gorgeous ring!" kalim exclaimed, taking in the sparkly rock.

"So, uh...what's your husband like?" Ace outright asked, earning himself a kick under the table from Jamil. "Ignore him, Professor."

"No, no. I don't mind at all. He's very sweet and kindhearted. He's very passionate about his teaching and wants his students to succeed. He's the best man I've ever met, really." you sighed dreamily, thoughts of your husband filing your mind.

The group found it rather sweet, whispering among each other for another question to ask.

"Well, I must be on my way. See you all in class later!" you smiled, giving them a nod as you left the cafeteria and them dumbfounded.

You were currently in your classroom, setting things up for your next class. You taught Magical Botany and Herbalism, a class that happened to go hand in hand with Professor Crewel's Alchemy class.

As you checked in on the various plants growing in your "plant corner" of the classroom (you also used the botanical garden to grow things), you heard the sound of footsteps behind you. Turning around, a wide grin spread over your features as you saw the familiar face.

"Professor Crewel, what a pleasant surprise." you said, a tinge of excitement in your voice at seeing your husband. yes, you were married to none other than Divus Crewel, alchemy professor and dog lover alike.

"Y/n, you know you can drop the formalities when we're alone." he said, stepping over to you. his arms encircled your waist, making you laugh a little.

"Crewel, our students might see!" you exclaimed, pretending to scold him despite your arms already wrapping around his neck.

Crewel gave you one of his flashy grins, resting his forehead against yours. "So? At least then, the puppies will stop bombarding me with questions."

"What questions?" you mused, having a good idea of what they were.

"Like, if i have a crush on you." the alchemy professor said, making you burst into laughter.

"Well, we're married, so I would hope so!" you snickered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Just as your conversation was going well, a few whispering voices could be heard from behind the door. Voices you two knew very well.

"Stop pushing!"

"shh, they're gonna hear us!"

"Did they say they're married?"

You and crewel exchanged a knowing glance, walking over to the door and opening it. Im tumbled Grim, Ace, and Deuce, all three of them with rather guilty looks on their faces.

"Oh? Deuce, this isn't the botanical garden!" Ace said, trying to sound convincing (and failing).

"Where you puppies eavesdropping on us?" Crewel asked, his tone turning stern. You placed a hand onto Crewel's shoulder, shaking your head.

"Let's at least hear them out."

Crewel was about to protest, but nodded his head, letting them explain themselves.

"We were just curious about who Professor Y/n was married to!" Grim blurted, Ace facepalming and Deuce silently scolding the cat-like creature.

"Like he said, we never would've guessed it was Professor Crewel. He never wears a ring." Deuce explained.

You couldn't help but laugh, Crewel rolling his eyes at their little display of curiosity.

"The reason he doesn't wear his ring is because he's afraid he'll lose it or ruin it up during alchemy lessons. It also looks weird if he wears his gloves over it." you explained, the boys nodding their heads.

"You do understand that I'll have to punish you three, correct?" Crewel said, the three boys hanging their heads.

"Oh come on, love. Cut them some slack this time, hm?" you suggested, playfully nudging crewel in his side. The students were shocked to see this side of their professors, finding it a bit weird, but also rather sweet.

"Fine. But don't let me catch you again."

After the trio left, Crewel helped you set up the last of your things. You two were now having one last little intimacy session before classes began again.

"Tell you what? After classes are over, let's go have some tea in your office and just enjoy each other's company?" you hummed, reaching up to tuck a tuft of his white hair behind his ear.

"You always know how to take my stress away." he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Of course I do. I know my husband inside and out." 💍

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llamagoddessofficial · 10 months ago

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who's the most possessive out of the bad guys?

It's a bit complicated. They're all possessive, in their own ✨special✨ ways. Because they're special boys.

Horror is possessive like a wild animal. He hates anything that looks like it could hurt you, that makes you nervous, that approaches too fast. It's all or nothing with him; he can be the most ferociously violent and unpredictable of the four, especially considering he has a penchant for decapitation. But he can equally be the most easygoing when he's decided something isn't a threat. He's possessive with his claws and teeth, possessive over your scent and softest parts... though he likes that his hands can encircle your waist entirely, it also makes him scared to let go. He's the bigger and stronger mate, he needs to protect you from the rest of the world. He needs to keep you safe from the things that could kill you quickly. Like him.

Dust is possessive like someone who has lost everything. He found something good after what he did, despite all odds, and he will not lose you. You're so wonderful - he doesn't say it aloud but he truly believes that once you wake up and realise your boyfriend is just a pathetic mass murderer who can't emote, you'll leave. So he's always possessive, under the surface, always jealous and murderous, especially toward anyone he thinks you're starting to get 'too' close with. It's a fire that never goes out. If you're not in his arms, he's watching, quietly burning.

He hides it extremely well. Just like his other emotions. But it's always there - waiting for him to snap, and use it.

Killer is possessive like a child. A child who can (and will) stab people to death. So long as he believes he's your favourite, things will be fine, but he cannot stand someone taking up your attention for too long. Look at him, look at him, look at him - if he can draw your eyes back to him he'll quickly relax, the fastest way to keep him from hurting anyone is by laughing at something he's said. But if someone keeps insisting on getting in the way and monopolising you, he lashes out wildly. Killer's sense of right and wrong is massively fucked up... it's easy to see how little empathy he has for those he doesn't care about when he puts a knife in someone's gut for snapping their fingers at you while he's talking to you.

Nightmare is possessive like a lover. He's pretty tolerant of most things; very close friends are fine, time apart is fine, he doesn't mind. You can do pretty much as you please, so long as you return to his bed at the end of the night. The one thing he absolutely will not tolerate? Romantic rivals. Contenders for your love will die. If someone likes you, and tries to pursue you even slightly, they meet a gruesome end. If you beg on their behalf he might settle on just banishing them to a distant universe... but you probably won't get to them in time. Nightmare, if it wasn't obvious, has a big problem with being "number 2" in anything. And when it comes to your heart, he won't give up a single inch.

Deep down, he just wants you to hold him close and reassure him that you won't leave like everyone else in his life has. But he's much too proud to admit that. So he settles on murdering anyone who could somehow, someday, get in the way.

Prune the tree when it's a sprout and you'll never have to deal with the roots.

#llamagines #bad sanses

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b0red-b1rds · 1 year ago

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Okay, random idea I had, and I can't get out of my head. The Harbingers with a chubby lover. Like, they could all see that their favorite person was on the softer side, clearly, but I can imagine just how floored they'd be when they cuddle for the first time.

Childe puts his hands on their tummy, expecting a little bit of give, but his hand just. Keeps going? And the skin is squishing out from between his fingers? And it's so warm??? He can't help but just flop forward and bury his face in the chub. "...It's like spooning a giant marshmallow."

Dottore's younger clones enjoyed teasing at first, pinching at chubby cheeks and a squishy belly. It isn't until one of the clones is pulled into a warm hug, his cheek pressed against their chest, that they all realize just how soft and warm their lover is. After that, each segment is always finding excuses to cuddle or hug, eager to feel their lover's warm affection.

Pantalone is an absolute sucker for a soft tummy, okay? He greatly enjoys paying for flattering clothes for his darling, eager to see just how beautiful he can make them look. Of course, he was always under the impression that works of art should simply be admired. You wouldn't just walk up and touch a masterpiece! But that worldview is thrown out the window the first time his darling hugs him, snuggling against his chest while soft arms encircled his waist. He tries to hold himself back after that, but really, can he be blamed when he's suddenly so eager to hold your hand or put an arm around your waist?

Capitano is more accustomed to hard, muscular bodies, as those bodies are the ones he spars with regularly. He trains himself every day, keeping himself in perfect fighting condition so as to better serve the Tsaritsa. So imagine his surprise the first time he held his companion, feeling all of their soft curves against his hardened muscle. He actually freezes for a moment, his brain short-circuiting because of how enjoyable it was. He really hopes they couldn't hear how fast his heart was pounding...

Pierro, given his age, is somewhat familiar with all of this. Hardly anything is new to him by now. Rather, he had simply forgotten how wonderful it was to feel someone so soft and pliable in his arms. On particularly rough days, he often asks his beloved to sit on his lap, just so he can hold them for a bit. It never fails to soothe him.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x chubby reader #childe x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #capitano x reader #pierro x reader #genshin childe #genshin dottore #genshin pantalone #genshin capitano #genshin pierro

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malewifeharem · 11 months ago

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sex with danheng IL

彡- ,, brainrot???? small fic????? of sex with danheng IL hehe

cw ⁞ afab!reader, nsfw filth (duh), dragon features (two pp but only one goes in ha?, size diff, FANGSSSSSSS), mention of prey/predator dynamic, marking, breeding kink IF YOU SQUINT, scent kink IF YOU SQUINT EVEN HARDER

an ⁞ YALL FR GONNA FIND A WAY TO REPOPULATE THE VIDYADHARA CLAN ;D (idk how im gonna play hsr the same way after writing this...) im not very happy with the intro but its wtv.

@cloudshuffle my amazing awesome proofreader <3

after getting intimate with each other a couple times, danheng and you have discussed taking things up a notch. i imagine him coming back to the astral express, incredibly frustrated after a stressful mission (after seeing his ex in xianzhou), and he really just needed you. you excitedly welcome him back but you're suddenly pinned down — wrists enveloped by his hand and his tail coiling itself around your leg.

"d-danheng? what's wrong...?"

he growls carnally, his cerulean eyes hazed with lust. he dives in for your chest, inhaling deeply before lightly nipping at your neck with his fangs and branding you as his with a few hickies.

"need you now. you know your safe word, yes?" he huffs impatiently, tugging at your shirt.

you nod before hurriedly ridding yourself of your top and bra, exposing your upper half to your lover.

"so beautiful," he whispers in awe.

danheng's hands immediately lock in on your tits, gently squeezing them before giving each of them a sweet suck. your cute little whimper just spurs him on even more! you're so much smaller than him, it's adorable. but it really doesn't help his innermost desires to manhandle tf outta you. it's just part of his animalistic urges as a dragon, after all.

his hands quickly trails down to unclip your skirt and pushing your panties aside to finger you. you let out a small gasp at this, slightly unnerved by his hastiness but you weren't complaining at all. it's not long till he adds another finger, coaxing a low moan out of you. with your walls clenching so deliciously around his fingers, the dragon wondered how you would feel around his cock instead.

"cant take it anymore... please 'heng..," you whine.

"hm, my baby's so needy all for me? i'll give you what you want since you asked so sweetly."

danheng chuckles before discarding his own slacks, revealing his erect cocks. (yes, two ehe) it's so pretty, being tinted a light turquoise at the base and a pink-ish fleshy color at the tip. he slides one of them in slowly — the stretch being so much bigger than his fingers. you both moan in unison once his length is fully buried in your wetness, with his hand pressing down on your spine, putting you in a mean arch. he waits for your signal before moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep — allowing you to feel every vein, every inch. your skin flushes in embarrassment when you notice how lustful danheng looks in the moment, eyeing you hungrily as if you're meek prey, who've fallen into the beast's domain. (omg so alpha) as he picks up his pace, your cries of pleasure only grow louder and you're sincerely hoping march won't call you both out on it later.

you wrap your arms around danheng's neck, hungrily pulling him in for a kiss while your legs encircles his waist — forcing his cock to drive deeper into you.

"mmfh— fuck, you're sucking me in... feels so good, darling," he pants in between sloppy, wet kisses. it's so messy, the way your pussy squelches sinfully with each thrust — your juices coating his girth with a layer of slick and even spilling onto the sheets below. he continues rutting into you ruthlessly, knocking all the air out of you as your hands find their way onto your boyfriend's back, leaving searing marks — staking your claim. the pain only turning him on even more, he hisses as his breath grows erratic, warning you of his impending release. you're on the edge of your own climax too, a familiar coil tightening in your abdomen.

"haah... i can feel you clenching around me, let's cum together," he groaned in your ear, enveloping you with the essence of him — body, soul, and mind. to him, you look best all fucked-out, guts rearranged and your mind filled with only thoughts of him and his dick. one particular prod to your g-spot sends you to your climax, your cunt clamping down impossibly harder on your poor boyfriend's dick. your words coming out as broken, incoherent sobs as your body quivers from the intensity of it all.

with your pussy milking him for all he's worth like that, how was danheng supposed to hold back? he shot ribbons of pearly white cum inside of you, making sure to fill every crevice of you with him — his cock twitching with each pulse.

"i would've never expected cumming inside of you would feel so good... could we go one more round? gonna fill you up real good again, i promise."

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roguishcat · 6 months ago

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Augustarion Day 3 – Apron (MNDI) 18+

Warnings: Astarion takes care of you. And I mean sexually. Inappropriate use of Mage Hand, Oral Sex (Male receiving), PiV.

Pairing: female reader (You) x Astarion

A/N: I tried to proofread.

Day 1 - 🍓, Day 2 - 🌊, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

You were busy preparing dinner when you could have sworn you felt a hand brush your side, then gently cup your ass and give it a squeeze. Whirling around, you saw that there was nobody there. In fact, everyone seemed to be doing something. Shadowheart and Wyll were speaking in low voices, Karlach was playing fetch with delighted Scratch, Gale was resting, and Astarion was reading a book in front of his tent. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary.

You went back to preparing the meal. Gale, for once, asked to be relieved of cooking duty, having taken several particularly nasty blows during the surprise attack. So he passed on the ladle to the only person in the group that could apparently be trusted with their meal. You did not know what made him believe that you were any better in the kitchen than, say, Shadowheart or Wyll. But, having taken a look at his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes, decided not to argue. You weren’t great at cooking, but you could manage a simple stew. Especially as Gale took care to write out step-by-step instructions for you to follow.

Then you felt it again. Phantom fingers brushed the back of your knee, making you yelp in surprise and almost drop what you were holding. This time you were certain that it wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks. Something or someone touched you and you were determined to find out who it was.

Eyes narrowing, you took another look at your companions. Astarion, whose idea of fun was pestering you when you were busy with something else, was your main suspect. Especially seeing as how he, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be really, really into his book. The book that you were sure you saw him read before.

With a huff, you turned back to the task at hand. If Astarion wanted something from you, he would probably tell you soon enough.

Minutes later, you heard him snap the tome closed as your vampire finally decided to come to you. You were chopping up vegetables for stew when Astarion approached you.

“Hello my sweet. Busy?” he all but purred, arms encircling your waist as he laid his chin on your shoulder.

“Not too busy to talk to you. How can I help?”

“Oh, I don’t need anything in particular. It’s just you know how much I enjoy seeing you handling a blade. And I am in a mood for a lovely chat with your lovely self.”

“Sounds… nice?”

“I can be very nice. In fact, I was nice enough to notice how tense you have been for the past several days. Travelling rough taking a toll on you, hm?”

“I suppose,” you frowned, not sure where exactly Astarion was going with this line of questioning. You felt as if he was toying with you, which he often was, leading you to say whatever it was that he wanted to hear, which you were probably about to do.

“You know how much I hate seeing you in such a state. And that got me thinking, how about I offer you a little stress relief? Just to make sure that you are in tiptop shape for all the adventuring that lies ahead, of course,” he ran his hand down your side, lifting your shirt a little to press his palm against your skin.

“Astarion,” you sighed with a smile, “if you want to get me alone and out of my pants, you have to wait till later. I can’t just let dinner burn because you are bored and wanting a stress relief of your own.”

“Tsk, you are no fun.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Luckily for you, my dear, you are in a relationship with the most creative lover!” he boasted, exposing his fangs in a cheeky smile. “You don’t even have to move, I will take care of everything. In fact,” he breathed down your neck, making a shiver pass through you, “I will not even touch you, in a way.”

You frowned, wondering what he was up to.

Seeing your confusion, he whispered his plan into your ear. Your face flushed from the mere suggestion.

“No!”

“Yes.”

“Astarion!”

“My dear, this is happening. The only choice you get in the matter is whether you get to preserve a bit of your modesty.”

He took Gale’s apron from the bag near the makeshift table and shook it out.

“Apron or no apron?”

“Astarion, I really don’t think-”

“I’m not asking you to think, my sweet. You do enough of that every single day. I’m asking you a very simple question. Apron or no apron?”

“Apron,” you whispered shakily as he slipped it on you.

“Good choice,” he all but growled, pulling on the ties a little harsher than needed and making a tight knot. “And try to be discreet about it, dear. Wouldn’t want to alert the rest to what is going on right in front of their noses.”

The flush spread from your face to your neck.

“You are a terrible influence.”

“And you are thrilled by the thought, admit it. But darling,” he was suddenly serious, “this is all a bit of fun. If at any point it stops being fun, I will stop.”

You knew that this was always the case, Astarion would never force you, but were grateful that he made sure to point it out anyway.

“I know. I trust you,” you turned your head a little and pecked his cheek.

“And what are you two lovebirds talking about, hm?” Shadowheart said with a frown, crossing her arms across her chest. In spite of addressing both of them it was Astarion who she was looking at with distrust and annoyance.

“Nothing that would interest you,” Astarion moved and lifted both his hands, palms up, a perfect picture of innocence. “But if you are so concerned, I’m walking away now.”

“You better, Fangs!” Karlach walked past, on her way to fetch water. “Keep your hands where we can see them. Wouldn’t want to waste all that food just because you have nothing to occupy yourself with.”

“Tsk, you think so lowly of me. And just when I was about to renounce my old ways and become the poster boy for gentleman-like behaviour! There,” he sat gracefully on the stool next to Shadowheart’s tent, crossing his arms and legs petulantly, “happy now?”

You listened to the two bicker with fondness and went back to the task in hand. Absentmindedly, you wondered if Astarion was so distracted by sparring verbally with Shadowheart, a common occurrence, that he forgot all about you. The thought didn’t bother you, in fact you were a little relieved. What were you even thinking agreeing to something so lewd with everyone being right there? How unlike you, how scandalous!

But then you felt it again, this time on your inner thigh. Invisible hands insistently ascending until they reached the apex between your thighs, lightly brushing against the fabric there. Your eyes widened and you withdrew from the table with a jolt, unsure how you felt about the sensation. Your eyes snapped in the direction that Astarion took, but he seemed to have moved on from Shadowheart and was now arguing with Lae’zel.

Apparently, that did not require as much thought as one would think, because you felt the Mage Hand move towards you again. Thankfully, it was invisible. Something that he learned to do and was very pleased by the opportunities that newfound knowledge would offer.

Suddenly, you realised where you remembered the book Astarion was reading earlier from. It was the spell book that held the secret to advanced Mage Hand! The one that he told Gale that you accidentally sold to the vendor! Gale lectured you about the importance of keeping the travel trunk in perfect order for a tenday after that!

Just as you were about to march over to the elf and give him a piece of your mind, you felt the Mage Hand slip into your underwear. Looking down, you panicked. Perhaps the spell made it invisible, but the movement beneath the clothes would make what is happening rather obvious. Thankfully, the makeshift table near the cooking pot was high enough to partially hide you. The apron was proving helpful too.

You felt the tadpole in your mind stir as Astarion’s voice appeared in your mind.

I understand that this may be a little distracting, my sweet, but appearances must be kept up. Chop, chop!

You grit your teeth and lifted your knife. Right. Vegetables, meat and- Ooh, yes!

You felt a finger inside you and a thumb circling the swollen nub slowly.

Do try to stay still, darling. Conjuring up a second Mage Hand to keep you in place might make everyone in the vicinity aware of what is happening.

Bastard. That beautiful, devious, impossible bastard! As if staying still came easily to you at such times and he knew that far too well. Astarion so enjoyed in making you squirm.

My, my, you think me beautiful, my dear? Is this the thought dominating your days and surfacing during your dreams?

But of course this would be his only takeaway from listening in on your thoughts! You shoved him out of your mind and his mocking, sultry voice disappeared, but not before you heard an arrogant chuckle.

Being banished clearly did not sit well with Astarion as the Mage Hand doubled its efforts, making you put down the knife lest you dropped it on your foot and grip the table tightly with shaking hands. You bit your lip to stifle a moan and forced yourself not to rock against the fingers pumping in and out of you with increasing speed. This was torture. Sweet, overwhelming torture.

You buried your face in your hands as another finger joined the first two. It was too much and you were sure that someone was about to catch on and-

“Is everything alright?” you heard Wyll’s voice.

It might as well have been a bucket of cold water. You immediately straightened and looked at him with wide, panicking eyes. Did he know? He couldn’t have known! How could he possibly-

“Are you feeling quite well? You look like you are running a fever,” he was about to move around the table and towards you.

You had about ten seconds to make a decision. Because there was no way that you would live this one down. So you grabbed the ladle, shoved it into Wyll’s hands, and sprinted towards your tent, grabbing Astarion by the collar on the way. The vampire had the gall to give Wyll a wink and shout, “Do start eating without us!”

You half-pushed, half-threw Astarion into your tent and closed the flap, making sure the damn thing was closed properly. Then, you gave yourself a minute to calm your erratic heartbeat.

When you turned, you were greeted with the sight of Astarion lounging on the bedroll. He was very naked, giving you a lazy, knowing smile.

“Where did you clothes go? I took my eyes off you for no more than a minute!”

“Why so displeased, love? Did you need me dressed for what is about to happen next?”

The nerve of that man! Looking at you like a cat that got the cream! As if he knew that you would happily jump atop of that. He was right, of course, but that was beside the point.

“Why Astarion, who knew that you would get so excited over this? And I didn’t even have to undress or touch you for you to get this,” you motioned to his cock standing at attention, “worked up.”

That wiped the arrogant smile off his face. Hah! Take that you handsome bastard!

Closing the distance between you, you crouched in front of Astarion, taking him into your hand and moving it torturously slow up and down the shaft, eliciting a groan as he thrust into your hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” he laughed in between gasps.

“Yes, very much, thank you.”

Keeping the rhythm, you started unbuttoning your shirt with your free hand. It would have probably looked sexy if the damn apron wasn’t still on you. Just as you wanted to untie it, Astarion stopped you.

“No. Keep it on,” he moved to help you out of your clothes. “I thought it looked rather fetching on you earlier.”

You nodded slowly, eyes fixated on his hard erection. You explored him. The very tip of his cock was traced with gentle fingers, then down the sides until your fingers went even lower, tracing around his balls before finally cupping them, kneading them gently, reverently.

Astarion was shuddering, eyes squeezed shut, allowing you to take your time. Feeling emboldened by his reactions, you spread his legs wider before lowering yourself, head between his legs. You kissed the tip of him before swirling her tongue around like you were savouring a treat. Slowly, inch by inch, you swallowed more and more before you stopped, unable to go any further. You sucked gently at first, before picking up speed, wrapping fingers around the base, stroking where mouth couldn’t reach. Your other hand rolled his balls in your palm.

“Oh darling, you must stop,” he groaned.

Freezing, you slowly pulled away and looked up at him with eyes heavy with passion. Did he want to stop? Was this too much?

He reached down and grabbed your shoulders, falling onto his back and dragging you on top. Sprawled on top of him, you could see Astarion was physically trying to hold himself back. He kissed you hard, leaving you breathless and panting.

Astarion rolled you over, his hips fitting between your legs. You felt the tip of his arousal pressing against your entrance.

“Eyes on me, my love.”

You could not resist it when he spoke to you in that breathy way.

“Always.”

You looked into his eyes when he thrust into you for the first time, making you moan.

You murmured the Silence spell between pants, unsure of whether you would be able to keep concentrating on it for long.

“Do you really think you will manage to concentrate on the spell, my sweet?” he mocked you playfully between shallow, teasing thrusts.

“You seemed to have managed well enough,” you bit back, arching off the bedroll to get more of him in, “or is arguing with Lae’zel and Shadowheart becoming second nature?”

“Oh, please, as if I could get a word in edgewise. Once those two get going any off-hand comment will do. You, on the other hand,” he finally thrust into you in earnest, his breath shuddering out of him in relief as he was finally nestled in you the way he wanted all afternoon, “may find yourself distracted so thoroughly that- oh fuck! You are so tight,” he growled, words failing him. Astarion grit his teeth as he moved his hips, lost in the sensation, ashamed of himself for wanting to come already.

Truth be told, running his mouth would only go that far in trying to make sure that you came first. But then he looked at you, eyes shut, cheeks flushed and felt a wave of affection. Because you were his and he was yours, and you were enjoying each other. No shame, no judgement. So he let go and decided to be in the moment with you.

“You are doing so well, my sweet,” he murmured, kissing your eyes, your cheeks, your neck. “So wet, so good. I wanted this… My love.”

As Astarion’s pace sped up, your legs came over his hips to wrap around him, unbelievable pressure building deep inside. And then you lost yourself in him, in his pants, the movement of his hips, the way his fingers dug into your back as his grip on you tightened. You whimpered for him to bite you. And as he did, you held onto him, wanting to feel more and then more still. You gasped at a deep thrust, tightening your walls around him when he hit a spot that made you cry out in pleasure as you came.

Astarion gasped when you closed around him. Faster, harder; he couldn’t help himself. He was rough and he knew it, but the way you felt didn’t leave much in the way of his control. His own release came suddenly and, thrusting erratically, he rode the wave of pleasure until he was completely spent.

He couldn’t move. And to be honest he didn’t want to move. He was still inside you snug heat, listening to the wild beat of your heart. Giving himself another moment, Astarion kissed your shoulder and reluctantly pulled out. He didn’t move much farther than that; his arm was under your shoulders in an embrace, and his head rested on your chest. He was content to listen as your breathing evened out and heart slowed down. When your tremulous fingers stroked a curl out his face, Astarion had a frightening thought that he was absolutely sure that you ruined him so completely with your love and affection that he would be unable to survive without your presence in his life. Of course, he would probably never admit it. Still, as you shared a slow, unhurried kiss, perhaps those bards had a point when they sang about love and such.

Dinner was an awkward affair. You looked at your bowl and your bowl only, your cheeks aflame as you physically felt the judging glares shot in your direction. Because you did exactly as they suspected. Abandoned the cooking pot to fuck the vampire. Surprisingly, it was Gale who came to your defence.

“Now friends, you shouldn’t judge these two too harshly. I’ve read many a book that mentioned the inherent eroticism of cooking. No wonder they got caught up in the moment!”

Shadowheart did not look convinced or impressed by that explanation, but mercifully chose not to say anything. Perhaps because against all odds the food turned out not as terrible as expected. Of course, that had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that Wyll added salt and spices, and made sure your dinner did not burn.

“But perhaps food preparation should be left to me, after all,” Gale went on. “Speaking of, has anyone seen my apron?”

You were mid chew and almost chocked on your food.

“I spilled something on it, so I had to wash it,” you said, not reacting when you heard Astarion chuckle into his wine. “But you will get it back as soon as it dries,” you quickly assured Gale, feeling terrible for having used it at all.

“Splendid! I am rather fond of that apron,” he nodded, going back to his meal.

But Astarion too found himself unwilling to part with it. Which is why he swiped the apron quickly and discreetly, squirreling it away until next time. Because there would certainly be a next time.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

#augustarion #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x f!reader

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photo1030 · 1 year ago

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Anonymous asked:

Heyy , so i had this smut idea for a while now, but bare with me please cuz my English isn’t that good lol . Anyway it’s about arthur and f!reader who’s been teasing arthur with a lot of touches and stares all day. But they were all busy that day so nothing happened. Then at the end of the day arthur finally got to be with her alone to sort things out (if you know what i mean) and confront her.

Ik … not very fluent in English lol , but I really really LOVE your writing so i figured i should maybe request something

Hello again, my lovely Anon!

Thank you for the "ask"! This was certainly a fun one to write out. I wasn't sure if you wanted Arthur and reader to be friends with longing tendencies, or in an existing relationship. I went with the latter. Hopefully that is okay. Either way, it ends up with some steamy goodness. If you need it tweaked the other way, let me know.

LEATHER AND LACE - CLOSE, BUT NOT CLOSE ENOUGH

Summary: You and Arthur have been trying to get some time alone together all day, to no avail. But by the end of the day, Arthur finally gets what he wants.

Warning: 18+ please. Minors - DNI; NSFW

*This is not my image. I have found it posted on multiple pages on Pintrest but can't find the originator. If anyone knows, let me know for specific photo credit.

Masterlist

The early morning sun tries to cut its way into the woods, cutting the dewy mist with its beams of warm, golden light. The burgeoning glow sets the birds into motion, their busy little chirps filling the brisk air around the camp.

You are dead tired this morning. It was a long, hard day of chores yesterday and when you had turned in for the night, all you wanted to do was rest your weary head on that lumpy pillow of yours atop of that squeaky cot. And with all of the hustling and work lately, Arthur was hoping to have a little “private time” with you last night, too.

But much to his disappointment, you had already passed out the moment your head hit the pillow, already fast asleep before he could even get his boots off. So with a sigh and just a bit of frustration, Arthur lumbered onto the cot next to you for the night.

So this morning, you are reluctant to crack open your eyes when the feeling of Arthur’s heavy arm makes its way around your waist, slowly exploring your midsection and creeping up to your breast with his fingertips. His chest is pressed up against your back as he spoons you tightly to him, his skin radiating a comforting heat that sinks down through your skin and into the very center of your body. You can already feel his half-erect cock finding its place against the bottom of your rear.

In this precious little moment, you are faced with a “difficult” decision: do you try to get some very much-needed sleep? Or do you give in to the temptation of your beloved outlaw?

“G’ Mornin’, Darlin’”

His low, raspy voice, cracked with remnants of sleep, floats its way into your ear and breaks through your mind’s thoughts…and that is all it takes for you to decide. A smile slowly emerges across your face without you even opening your eyes.

“Good morning to you too, my lover.” You playfully reach up to encircle your arm around his head, turning your face back towards his. Your greeting is met with a simple low groan of approval as Arthur’s lips seek out the cuff of your ear.

You gently roll over onto your back, looking up into his awaiting face. His hair is rumpled from the night and his eyes are still heavy-lidded with fatigue. Yet those eyes still sparkle like the bluest sky as they meet your own. And your heart could burst at how that is the first thing you get to see in the morning.

He leans down to gently catch your lips into a kiss. It’s the first of many to come for the day, knowing you two. You push your body upwards to flatten against his, your leg bending up to entwine with his burly ones. A soft giggle emanates from your throat as you deepen the kiss and run your hand along his cheek and up behind his head to pull him down to you. Arthur is quick to roll himself to climb over you, settling himself between your spread legs. Your lips press together, repeatedly working over the other’s as his hands begin to explore along your chest, grappling at the tender flesh there.

You lift your hips just a bit in invitation as Arthur rocks back and forth ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back as your fingertips drag along the thick muscles of his back, trailing through the soft body hair that scatters across his wide frame.

“Arthur? You in there?”

Your eyes shoot wide open, instantly snapped out of your blissful reverie at the deep-sounding voice coming from the other side of your shared tent. Arthur seems to be oblivious to the intrusion at first as his motions atop of you do not slow down in the slightest.

“Arthur?” the voice repeats.

Finally, Arthur collects his thoughts enough to respond.

“Go away, Bill,” mumbles Arthur, pausing in his administrations only long enough to warn the burly man outside the canvas, as he has no intention of stopping right now.

“There’s a group of us heading out. Got a tip on a stagecoach coming through.” Bill pushes insistently. “Come on, we gotta go.”

“Not now, Bill!” barks Arthur as he keeps kissing you, his teeth nipping at the tender skin of your neck and collarbone.

You are trying not to focus on the fact that someone is not only outside your tent at this inopportune moment, but actually having a conversation with Arthur as his erect cock is rubbing against your aching heat, mere moments away from being embedded into the warm cradle between your legs.

“Well, Dutch is askin’ for you. So what do you want me to tell him, then?” Bill asks impatiently.

“Bill!” you suddenly snap, lifting your head to turn your burning gaze over Arthur’s broad shoulder towards the tent flap. “If you do not walk away from this tent right now, so help me God…!”

“Oh!” Bill’s eyes open wide and his face suddenly turns beet-red as the realization of what he is interrupting becomes all too clear. “Oh, sorry! I’ll..uh…come back, I guess.” He snickers as he abruptly turns to hurry-off back to the waiting group.

An exasperated sigh pushes out of your nose as your head plunks back against the pillow. Arthur has finally stopped the amorous actions, but still lays overtop of you, motionless and reluctant to move.

“Well, that just killed the mood,” you huff, noting how Arthur’s face has turned down into a hard frown.

Arthur takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I know I said I can never leave the gang, but there’s moments like this that I am open to the discussion.”

“Don’t tease me, now,” you warn as a tiny grin creeps its way across your lips. Arthur just rolls his eyes and sits up, playfully pushing your legs to the side so he can sit at the edge of the cot to get himself dressed.

Back at the hitching posts, Bill approaches the waiting group with a smirk on his face, shaking his head.

“Where’s Arthur?” asks Dutch impatiently, his gaze looking past Bill’s shoulder when he does not see the man in question in attendance. “You were supposed to go get him.”

“He’s…uh…busy at the moment.” Bill offers this obscure excuse to the men with a quirked eyebrow.

Dutch’s ringed hands land on his hips, his impatience growing by the minute. “Busy doing what, exactly?”

“More like, busy doing who?” chuckles Bill.

It only takes Dutch a moment to realize what Bill is talking about before his dark eyes roll to the heavens. “Oh, for Christ’s sake…”

—-----------------------------------------

Fortunately, the coach job didn’t take too long. Arthur had begrudgingly pulled himself from your warm and loving arms to drudge over to join his companions. He got a good ribbing from the men, as was expected, but all it did was aggravate his already irritable demeanor. He wanted to spend the morning buried between your legs in his tent, not between Bill and John on their smelly horses.

By the time the men get back to camp, you and the other girls are already embedded into more chores. Seems there is always something to do. In fact, the moment he gets back to camp and unpacked, Ms. Grimshaw is quick to get Arthur to the wood pile, stating that the firewood is already low again. He shoots you a quick glance, your eyes meeting briefly across the camp, before giving her an exasperated sigh as he reluctantly heads over to the ax to get started.

As you work with your needle and thread to mend shirts and darn socks, you delightfully treat yourself to observe Arthur as he chops the firewood. His strong arms slam the ax down onto the chunks of timber, causing them to splinter in his wake. His muscled arms flex with each blow, his wide shoulders set beautifully with each stroke. His burly legs set into a wide stance, the tendons there rippling beneath the fabric of his trousers with each jarring blow.

The sight of it makes your heart race so fast that it skips a beat in your chest, knowing that this hulking man belongs to you. Your legs involuntarily cross and squeeze your thighs in an attempt to contain your arousal, a feeling that has yet to be quelled since your abrupt separation this morning. You try to finish your mending as quickly as you can so that you can steal away to go over there.

“Hey, you,” you call to Arthur as you eventually saunter over, swinging your hips with a cheshire-cat-like grin on your face.

Arthur lifts his head as he tosses a heavy piece of wood as if it were feather-light. The second his irritable eyes land on your beautiful form floating towards him, the tension melts away from his weathered face. He stands up straight, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you.”

You hand him a cup of cool water, which he gratefully accepts as your fingers linger across his knuckles like an ivy vine. You intently watch him as he gulps the refreshing liquid down, observing how his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. God, how you want to plant your lips all over his neck right now. You shift your weight from hip to hip and bite your bottom lip as you watch him.

You step up even closer, bumping your hip into his and giving him that look. Arthur looks at you with intrigue. He swipes the back of his gloved hand across his mouth, wiping away the water droplets that escaped his lips. He dips his head to kiss you, but halts mid-stride when you hear Ms. Grimshaw’s shrill voice hollering for you from across the camp.

“Y/N! Quit foolin’ around with Arthur and get over here! I ain’t done with you yet!” You and Arthur turn your heads to see the woman standing in the clearing, arms crossed and face twisted up in annoyance.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Arthur mutters. He turns back to you and the disappointment is plain on your face. You could be off wrapping your legs around this man’s waist, but no. You are needed elsewhere…to stitch holes in socks.

—------------------------------------

And so it goes for the rest of the day. It's as if the universe is purposely trying to keep you and Arthur apart. But Ms. Grimshaw is shrewd. Normally, you and Arthur can get a lot of work done when paired together. But when the two of you are acting more flirtatious than usual, the only way she can get anything done is to completely separate the two of you. Like wound-up teenagers, you and Arthur are known to play around and get distracted, sometimes even disappearing altogether. So the matriarch has been keen to assign you tasks on opposite sides of the camp.

Seeing an opportunity to catch you alone, Arthur comes up to you while you’re cooking. You are over at the food wagon, stirring the heavy cast-iron pot for tonight’s dinner when you hear the grass and leaves crunching behind you. You don’t even have to turn around to know he’s behind you, as the scent of leather and cigarettes, mingled with clove, permeates your senses. It’s a familiar fragrance that will immediately set your mind to race, making your blood run hot.

Arthur pushes his chest up against your back just enough to create that electricity. You suck your lip in between your teeth to silence any wanton noise that would be in danger of bubbling up from your throat. You turn your head slightly to the side, catching the pale blue color of his faded work shirt as he runs a single finger down the length of your arm.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan, there you are! I haven’t seen you all day.” Mr. Pearson suddenly appears out from behind the wagon with an armload of ingredients for you to cut and chop for tonight’s stew.

“Glad you’re here! Listen, did I ever tell you about the time I got into a fist-fight with a fella from town? He was an honest-to-God boxer. But I was too quick for him, you see. It was a good fight, too.”

Mr. Pearson is so wrapped up in his own story that the disappointed groan that comes from you goes unnoticed. Arthur’s brow settles into a hard, dangerous frown again. If it wouldn’t land him a stinging slap upside the head from Ms. Grimshaw, he’d land his fist in the portly man’s face just to shut him up. On and on Pearson goes, excited to have a captive audience for his rambling. You try your best to be polite and smile and nod along, but Arthur has never been one for social etiquette and quickly finds an excuse to walk away.

After you suffer through yet another one of Mr. Pearson’s stories and manage to get tonight’s dinner going, you set off to find Arthur again. The sexual tension is building and you can’t wait too much longer to deal with it. You finally locate him over by the horses.

Arthur is preoccupied with getting Buck saddled up, fixing the straps of the saddle and filling his saddle bags with provisions. He’s bent over at the waist, checking Buck’s hooves for any muck or debris, and you come up behind him, slowly running your hands up his back, pushing your fingertips into the muscle. You can feel Arthur shudder from your touch. But he quickly switches gears, muscles stiffening up under your hands.

“Quit. I can’t be startin’ that now,” he quickly scolds you.

“Oh really?” you purr as you press up against him, thinking he’s playing hard-to-get.

“I mean it. Knock it off.” He spins away from you, putting his hand on your forearm and holding you at arm's length as if you were something offensive.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “Excuse me?” Your arms cross indignantly over your chest in disbelief.

But he doesn’t mean to be cruel. He has to focus on what needs to be done. He can’t get sidetracked by those improper thoughts of you. And he has so many of those thoughts about you right now.

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Look, it ain’t you, alright? I gotta head out. Dutch needs me to handle something for Strauss.”

You give a long frustrated huff. “Figures,” you mumble under your breath, taking a step back even further away from him.

“Don’t get mad at me for it!” he snaps.

“I’m not.”

His ocean-colored eyes flash at you. “Yeah, you are!”

“Arthur, if I was mad at you, you’d know it,” you snark back.

“Oh, so this look on your face is one of joy, then?” he says with dripping sarcasm as his hand waves inches from your nose.

You slap his hand down, your eyes narrowing at him. “Don’t be an ass.”

“I ain’t bein’ in ass!” His voice raises in volume as his limits get tested. He drags his hand over his face in frustration. “Nevermind. Can we deal with this later? I got things to do.” He plants his hands on his hips in impatience.

“Of course you do.” You give him an eye roll, your hair tossing in the air, as you spin on your heels to head back to the campfire.

—--------------------------------------------------

Later that night, you are walking through the camp. Arthur is nowhere to be seen, which is annoying. You grab the water bucket and head over to the edge of camp to dump it, when you hear a whistle. Confused, you follow the noise as it leads you to the tree line. Suddenly, a massive hand shoots out of the shadows and clamps over your wrist. It's Arthur. He holds his finger up to his lips in a shushing motion, tilting his head to indicate to follow him before you can even utter a word.

You quietly follow as he leads you away from camp and into the dark and awaiting forest, confused as to what in the world he’s up to. When you get to a thick collection of trees, he stops.

“Arthur, what are you doing-” but you can’t get another word out before he spins on you and roughly grabs your face, crushing his mouth into yours. You can’t even breathe, as he sucks the air right out of your lungs. He backs you up a few paces, hands still clamped around your cheeks, until your backside hits a tree, trapped and unable to move anywhere else.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Can’t wait a damn second longer. I gotta have ya and have ya now.” He grabs at the fabric of your skirt without warning or permission and starts to hike it up, but you are quick to grab his wrists.

“What?! Out here? Arthur, someone is going to see us!” you gasp, shocked at his brazenness.

“Don’t care,” he grits out as he pins your body to the tree with his own, his lips attacking your neck. He maneuvers your hands away from his own in order to keep pulling at the skirt fabric which is the only barrier between him and his prize.

“But Arthur-” You try to take a second to try to talk some sense into him, but he silences you again, shoving his tongue down your throat. Your hands shoot up to his shoulders with a feeble push to try to get him to stop. But by releasing your grasp on his wrists, it frees him to reach up further under your skirt and yank your bloomers off, ripping them at the seam.

The sudden jerk causes you to gasp and it’s as if a switch has been pulled within you. The culmination of pent-up desire has come to a head as you no longer care about the world around you two. You look up at him with hungry, needy eyes of your own, but see nothing but pure lust reflecting back at you, like looking into the face of a wolf.

Your own pupils are blown wide with yearning and briefly flick from his captive gaze to his full lips. And with that brief glimpse of approval from you, Arthur shoves his arms under your thighs and lifts you up off the ground, slamming you back into the tree trunk. The motion causes the wind to briefly knock out of your lungs as your arms wrap around his shoulders to hold on and keep yourself from falling to the ground.

His hips grind harshly into you as his mouth devours your jawline and neck. You can feel how hard he is under the fabric of his trousers. Your precious little gasps only spur him on faster. Arthur fumbles with the buttons of his pants, pulling out his rock-hard cock. You can feel the tip of him rubbing hotly against your inner thigh, the length of him dragging along the folds of your heat. He seems impossibly rigid at the moment and you take a split second to wonder if it's actually painful for him. The thought of it causes you to desperately whine and moan in anticipation.

Arthur can be soft and attentive as a lover, and he can also be hot and passionate. But, every once in awhile, he can be just outright insatiable. A downright, dirty outlaw.

“You like that, don’t you?” he smirks, pleased with your reaction to his thick manhood teasing your sensitive skin. Cocky bastard.

All you can do is nod, your mouth agape and gasping for air.

“Good. ‘Cause I ain’t about to stop now.” He lines himself up to you and pushes in, burying himself until his pelvis is flat against yours. You cry out with a wanton little whimper, your head thrown back until it knocks onto the bark behind you with an ungraceful thud. Arthur is large between his legs, always a tight fit within you, but you have zero complaints about it.

“C’mon, baby, let me hear ya,” he coaxes in your ear. He immediately starts to pump into you, quick and desperate. Your back begins to drag along the tree as he ruts into you. The tree bark cuts into your skin, even through the fabric of your blouse, but you couldn’t care any less.

“Jesus, Arthur,” you moan. “Right there…(gasping) just like that…just like that.” You try to lean back, pushing your hips towards him and he grunts with a devilish grin.

“That’s right, girl”.

The beautifully lewd symphony that the two of you create could be heard by anyone in the area if they are close enough. Moans and stifled screams wrap around the wet sounds of tongues and lips clicking, while the unmistakable sound of skin against skin vibrates throughout the ring of trees that encompasses you.

Arthur lets your one leg drop down so that he can use that hand to reach between you. The pads of his fingers find their way to that sensitive bundle of nerves nestled within your folds and he begins to curl and rub. His other arm that is still hooked under your knee pulls your hip up, opening your gait even more, allowing his cock to ram into the back wall of your cunt with full force.

It's too much. You loudly cry out at the additional stimulation, your breath gasping as your hands pinch into the meat of his shoulders.

The sight of you coming undone before his eyes is enough to melt his mind. You lean forward this time, burying your head into his shoulder and letting your whole body go limp in his arms like a rag doll, giving in to sweet pleasure and just letting him have his way with you.

When you cling to him, he immediately pulls his hand away from your heat and lifts you back up again to get better leverage. He pounds into you even harder, chasing that euphoric ending. You are completely at his mercy now, mercy which will never come. The sexual tension that has been building all day like the pressure of a tea kettle boiling some water has finally been released. And like that scalding hot water, Arthur’s lust burns you.

“Baby, I’m…I’m close…” he sputters, his forehead digging into your temple. You can’t even form coherent words to give him a reply. In fact, you couldn’t care any less about anything he is saying right now, only about what he is doing.

Your climax is a tidal wave as your hands dig into his shoulder like the claws of a bobcat. The painful sensation of your fingernails cutting into his flesh is enough to push him over the edge as he quickly drops your legs, pulling himself out of you before his spend is sent hurling into the grass at your feet. Lightning clouds his vision as Arthur lets out a loud moan of release, not even bothering to try to hold anything back. His rough hands clasp the rough bark of the tree behind you, snapping pieces of it off in his palms as he braces himself for his own overstimulation.

As his large body comes down from its high, Arthur hangs his head, leaning it against your collarbone, his chest heaving for air. Your legs are shaking, trying to keep upright as you bring your hands up along the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks. Your thumbs begin to stroke his cheekbones to calm him and you press light kisses to his temple as you catch your own breath.

He slowly pulls his face back to look into yours. Both of you are left speechless. That feral beast that drug you off into the woods to be devoured is no longer in front of you. The man you recognize and love oh-so deeply is back, that sweet grin on his lips.

“What the hell was that?” you pant out in surprise.

“A man’s got needs,” he smirks with that devilish grin. “And I needed you.” He shakes his eyebrows suggestively at you as he kisses your still-trembling lips.

“I guess so."

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader smut #arthur morgan x f!reader

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earthlybeam · 1 month ago

Text

Just some random headcanons i think that fit Thranduil (my opinion)

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Thranduil Version below.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

Thranduil’s Love Language? Thranduil’s primary love language is likely Physical Touch, though he is deeply reserved when it comes to showing this side of himself. For a king whose life is dominated by formality, power, and centuries of solitude, the vulnerability of physical intimacy is something he does not offer lightly. His regal bearing and icy demeanor conceal a man who is, in truth, starved of affection—aching for the closeness he denies himself but does not know how to ask for. This deprivation makes his gestures of touch all the more profound, deliberate, and meaningful.

At first, his love manifests in small, subtle gestures—a hand gently resting on his partner’s shoulder during a quiet moment, fingers brushing theirs as he hands them something, or the barest touch of his lips against their knuckles in an elegant display of affection. These acts are not impulsive but deliberate and heavily weighted, signaling that he has let down his guard in their presence. Each touch carries a depth of emotion that he cannot express with words, an offering of vulnerability for someone he has allowed into his world. Once he fully trusts someone, however, his yearning for touch becomes more apparent. Beneath his stoic exterior lies a man who has long been deprived of physical closeness, and when he finally allows himself to embrace it, his devotion becomes unmistakable. He craves the solace of their presence—the comfort of their hand in his, the warmth of their body resting against him. His touches grow more frequent and lingering: a protective arm encircling their waist, fingers brushing over their cheek, or a hand trailing along their back as they walk together. Yet, even in his tenderness, Thranduil is not one for overt or casual displays. His touches are always elegant, restrained, and deliberate, infused with a quiet passion that makes every caress feel profound.

Words of affirmation, while not impossible for him, come rarely and with great effort. Thranduil struggles to articulate his emotions verbally, often finding himself at a loss when it comes to expressing the depth of his feelings. Instead, he relies on his actions and the language of touch to communicate. A protective embrace during a moment of vulnerability or his fingers ghosting along their cheek speaks far more than words ever could. In moments of deep intimacy, Thranduil’s love through touch becomes a silent yet powerful language that his partner alone can decipher. It is in these quiet, unspoken moments that he truly reveals himself—a man who, despite his grandeur and pride, longs desperately for the comfort and connection that only their touch can provide. For someone who has been starved of affection for centuries, his partner’s touch becomes not just a display of love but a balm to his weary soul.

How Thranduil Views His Significant Other? Are they the light in their life? Best friend? Savior, etc.? To Thranduil, a significant other would be far more than just a lover—they would be someone he holds in the highest esteem, a partner capable of standing alongside him in the grand tapestry of his life. As a king burdened by centuries of loss, isolation, and duty, he would view them as a counterbalance to his heavy responsibilities, someone who understands the weight he carries but does not expect him to bear it alone. In many ways, they would become the light of his life, a source of comfort, warmth, and joy he has long denied himself. Thranduil is not a man prone to outpourings of affection, but his respect and admiration for his partner would be evident in the way he prioritizes their needs, listens to their counsel, and shields them from harm. While he is guarded and often distant with others, his partner would see glimpses of the man beneath the crown—the one who longs for connection but fears the vulnerability it demands. To him, they represent safety in a world where trust is scarce. Thranduil admires strength, wisdom, and resilience, and he would love his partner for embodying these qualities while still offering him the emotional solace he so desperately needs but would never admit to. They would become his anchor in a world of endless turmoil, and he would revere them as both an equal and a deeply cherished confidant.

How Thranduil Acts When Falling Out of Love? When falling out of love, Thranduil’s withdrawal would be as subtle as it is devastating. His natural reserve would become even more pronounced, and the walls he had once lowered for his partner would rise higher than ever before. Rather than confront his emotions head-on, he would turn inward, focusing on his duties as a king and protector as a way to avoid the uncomfortable truth of his waning affection. Silence would be his weapon and his shield. Where once he might have offered quiet gestures of care or fleeting touches, there would now be a distant, almost clinical demeanor. He would avoid emotional conversations, deflecting any attempts to address the growing chasm between them. His actions would become colder, more imperious, as if he were trying to reassert control over a situation he can no longer bear to confront emotionally. Thranduil is not one for dramatic outbursts or petty arguments; instead, his withdrawal would be slow and calculated, like the fading of a once-bright star. He would not fight for the relationship, nor would he allow it to dissolve messily. Instead, he would orchestrate its end with the same meticulous care he applies to all aspects of his life, leaving his partner with the unmistakable sense that his love has turned to frost.

Will Thranduil Do Anything for His S/O? Thranduil’s loyalty is absolute—but it is also hard-earned. If he truly loves someone, he would move heaven and earth to ensure their safety and happiness. His love is not given freely, and those who earn it must prove themselves worthy through unwavering loyalty, strength, and an ability to stand by him in times of both peace and peril. Once his heart is won, however, he will fight fiercely to protect his partner, drawing on all his considerable power, influence, and intellect to shield them from harm. That said, Thranduil has little patience for weakness or manipulation. Crocodile tears or emotional pleas would not sway him; he respects strength and authenticity above all else. His stubborn nature makes him impervious to false displays of emotion, and only genuine love and loyalty could ever change his mind if he were in doubt. While he would go to extraordinary lengths for his partner, he would do so on his own terms, not because he has been guilted or coerced into action.

How Does Thranduil Kiss? Thranduil’s kisses are not fleeting or casual; they are deliberate, purposeful, and steeped in meaning. Every kiss he gives feels like an event in itself—an unspoken declaration of his feelings, as though each gesture carries centuries of untold emotions. He is not one for quick or impulsive displays of affection; his kisses are slow, controlled, and thoroughly intentional. Thranduil approaches kissing with the same elegance and poise that defines his every action. It is as if he crafts the moment, ensuring that it is perfect, leaving a lasting impression on his partner. Thranduil’s kisses are filled with contrasts. There is dominance in them—a quiet assertion of his presence, his authority, his love—but there is also a surprising tenderness. He kisses like a man who has spent an eternity trying to keep his emotions in check, and now, in the arms of someone he trusts, he lets those feelings spill over in small, meaningful ways. He might begin by cupping their face gently in his hands, his fingers gliding over their skin as if memorizing every curve. When he kisses their lips, it is with a sense of reverence, savoring every second as though it might be the last. His kisses on their knuckles, on the back of their hand, or even on their temple are more than gestures of affection—they are deliberate acts of devotion, conveying everything he struggles to say in words. When the moment calls for passion, his kisses take on a different intensity. He leans in closer, his tall, imposing frame enveloping his partner, and there is a heat in his gaze that makes it impossible to look away. The kiss itself, though controlled, becomes deeper, more urgent. Yet even in the height of passion, Thranduil never loses his characteristic elegance. Each movement feels intentional, every brush of his lips planned, as though he is composing a symphony of sensations. In moments of quiet intimacy, his kisses take on a softer quality. He might press his lips to their forehead in a silent promise of protection or place a lingering kiss on their shoulder while they rest in his arms. These tender moments are where his vulnerability shines most clearly, his love laid bare in the quiet, unspoken language of touch. Thranduil’s kisses, in all their variations, are an extension of who he is: a man of power and control who, when he chooses to let someone in, loves deeply, fiercely, and with every fiber of his being.

What’s Thranduil’s Favorite Part of His S/O? Thranduil is deeply drawn to strength and resilience, qualities that he values not only in himself but in those closest to him. His partner’s ability to stand firm in the face of adversity, to remain unshaken when the world threatens to break them, would command his respect and admiration. Their courage in challenging him when necessary—unafraid to call out his stubbornness or temper—would make him see them as an equal, someone worthy of standing beside him as a partner. This strength, both internal and external, would create a bond of trust that few others could ever hope to achieve.

Physically, Thranduil would be captivated by their eyes, seeing them as mirrors of their soul. Whether filled with compassion, understanding, or fierce determination, their gaze would hold a quiet power that disarms him. He would find himself caught in their eyes during unguarded moments, his breath hitching as they reveal emotions that resonate deeply with his own, often-hidden feelings. To Thranduil, their eyes would be more than beautiful—they would be a source of comfort, reflection, and connection, capable of grounding him even when his burdens as king feel overwhelming.

He might also have a particular fascination with their hands. Their hands, to him, would be symbols of gentleness and care that contrast with his own stoic and restrained nature. The way their hands move, whether offering comfort, creating something, or simply resting on his, would mesmerize him. Each touch would feel deliberate and meaningful, reminding him of a warmth and tenderness he has denied himself for so long. In moments of vulnerability, the way their hands brush his cheek or intertwine with his own would bring him a sense of peace he rarely finds elsewhere. To Thranduil, these aspects of his partner—their strength, their eyes, their hands—would not just be things he admires but also reflections of why he values and loves them so deeply. They are a constant reminder of why he has chosen to open himself to them, despite his long-standing walls, and why they remain the one person who can truly reach him.

Is Thranduil Protective? Yes, Thranduil is extraordinarily protective, and this stems from the deep well of love he feels for those he holds dear and the profound fear of loss that haunts him. Having lived for centuries, and endured immense grief, his protectiveness is both instinctive and intense. He would spare no effort in shielding his partner from harm, leveraging his immense power, influence, and strategic mind to ensure their safety. Whether through deploying his formidable Elven warriors, weaving intricate political alliances, or personally stepping into danger, Thranduil would stop at nothing to protect the person he loves. This protectiveness, however, does come with its challenges. Thranduil’s love often manifests as control, born from the lingering scars of losing those closest to him in the past. He may be overly cautious or stifling, insisting on decisions or actions that prioritize his partner’s safety above all else, even at the expense of their autonomy. His mistrust of the world around him amplifies this behavior, making him fiercely defensive against any perceived threats, no matter how minor. While his intentions are rooted in love, his actions might sometimes feel overbearing, especially to a partner who values independence. What he would never openly admit is the raw vulnerability behind this protectiveness. Thranduil is haunted by the specter of loss—of losing someone he cares about in ways he has already endured before. The mere thought of his partner coming to harm would weigh heavily on his heart, driving him to act with a level of urgency and intensity that can be startling. If his partner were ever in danger, Thranduil’s usually composed and measured demeanor would transform into something almost primal. His sharp instincts would take over, and the polished elegance of a king would give way to the relentless determination of a protector. In such moments, he would be fearsome and unyielding, his every action a testament to the depth of his love and the lengths he would go to in order to keep his partner safe. Ultimately, Thranduil’s protectiveness is both his greatest strength and a reflection of his deepest fears. While it might sometimes verge on overbearing, it is a testament to how profoundly he loves—so much so that he would risk everything to ensure his partner’s safety and happiness.

How Far Will Thranduil Go to Take Care of His Sick S/O? Thranduil would go to extraordinary lengths to care for his sick or injured partner, particularly if they hold a special place in his guarded heart. Though he is not naturally nurturing in a traditional sense, his actions would speak volumes about his devotion. He would immediately ensure they are protected in the safest and most comfortable environment possible, surrounding them with the finest healers and utilizing every resource at his disposal. No expense would be spared; whether it be rare Elven remedies, ancient magical herbs from the furthest reaches of Middle-earth, or items with legendary healing properties, he would acquire them all without hesitation. While Thranduil is a king, and his duties to his people weigh heavily upon him, his loyalty to his partner would supersede even those responsibilities in times of crisis. He would delegate his obligations to trusted advisors temporarily, ensuring the kingdom remains stable, while prioritizing his partner’s recovery. Despite his usual aloofness, Thranduil would refuse to leave their side for long, spending hours in quiet vigil. He may not speak often, but his mere presence—offering a reassuring hand on theirs or simply watching over them—would be his way of showing unwavering support. If conventional means proved insufficient, Thranduil’s determination would drive him to take more drastic measures. His pride would not stop him from seeking aid from beyond his realm, even from sources he distrusts, such as other Elven realms or even mysterious powers like the Istari. Confronting old rivals or enemies to obtain what is needed for his partner’s health would not be out of the question. For Thranduil, love and devotion demand action, and he would sacrifice his pride or risk his own safety if it meant securing their recovery. Despite the intensity of his care, his demeanor would remain composed, befitting a king, but those who know him would see the strain in his eyes. He would be relentless, refusing to accept failure as an option. Once his partner begins to recover, Thranduil would quietly ensure that their surroundings remain peaceful and restorative, shielding them from any political turmoil or personal stress. Though he may not openly voice his fears or affection during this time, his every action would underscore just how deeply he cares. For Thranduil, caring for a sick partner is not merely an obligation—it is an act of love, devotion, and his own way of protecting what he treasures most.

How Does Thranduil React When His S/O dead? If Thranduil were to lose his partner, it would devastate him in a way few could understand. His usual air of composure and regal control would shatter completely, leaving behind a man deeply haunted by grief. The stoic king, who is often seen as an unmovable figure, would be reduced to someone quietly crumbling under the weight of sorrow. Though he might try to maintain a dignified exterior in public—perhaps carrying out his royal duties with the same authoritative grace he is known for—the cracks in his facade would be noticeable to those who know him well. He would not allow himself to publicly mourn in the way he might wish; his pride and sense of duty would push him to uphold his image, yet beneath it all, he would be barely holding it together. Privately, however, Thranduil’s grief would consume him. His heart would ache in ways he never thought possible. The silence of his chambers or the solitude of his palace would feel like a suffocating reminder of the absence of the one he loved. He would retreat further into himself, shutting out any distractions as he navigates this profound loss. The forest, his realm, which he once found solace in, would now feel like an endless expanse of emptiness, a place where only memories and regrets linger. It would reopen old wounds for Thranduil—memories of past losses, of painful separations, and the fear that love, no matter how beautiful, always leads to suffering.

His grief would not be loud or overt. Thranduil is not the type to throw himself into despair or make a spectacle of his sorrow. Instead, he would carry the weight of it in silence, finding refuge in quiet, solitary moments, perhaps in the secluded parts of his kingdom where few dare to wander. He might isolate himself from others, unable to bear the thought of seeing others move on while he remains trapped in a sorrow that feels like it will never end. The burden of the loss would be carried deep within, and it would take everything in him not to retreat completely from the world. In the aftermath of their death, Thranduil’s greatest fear would be that their memory could be lost, so he might find ways—often subtle but powerful—to honor them. Perhaps he would dedicate a tree in their memory, marking it with a token only he understands, or preserve a space that reflects their presence. But even in these acts, the pain would never fully subside. There would be an indelible mark left on his soul, a gaping wound that would not heal easily. As he navigates this profound loss, Thranduil’s fear of vulnerability and emotional connection would deepen. The death of his partner would reinforce his belief that love only leads to pain and that to love is to inevitably lose. This fear might make it harder for him to open himself up to others in the future. Yet, in time, depending on his personal growth, he might come to understand that love is not just about loss—it is also about the deep, meaningful connections it creates. But for now, the death of his partner would be something he would struggle to come to terms with, leaving him marked by the grief of their absence for the rest of his life.

How Does He Cheer His S/O Up When They’re Down? When his partner is feeling down, Thranduil’s approach to cheering them up would be understated yet deeply meaningful. Though he may struggle with comforting words or overt expressions of emotion, he has a profound understanding of the power of quiet gestures. Thranduil would likely first observe the source of their distress, choosing the right moment to offer solace in the way he knows best. He would guide them on a gentle walk through the serene forest, letting the natural beauty of the surroundings help calm their troubled heart. The stillness of the woods, the soft rustle of leaves, and the cool, fresh air would create an unspoken space for them to heal in solitude, with him by their side. There, amidst the trees, he would not press for conversation, but simply walk beside them, letting his presence serve as a grounding force. His gaze might linger on them occasionally, filled with silent understanding, and should they need to speak, he would listen, never pushing them to share more than they are comfortable with. When words seem insufficient, Thranduil may turn to gifts—a precious gemstone, perhaps, or a token of personal meaning—something that speaks to their inner beauty or strength. The act would be less about the object itself and more about the sentiment behind it. It would be his way of saying, “I see you, and you are valued,” without uttering the words aloud. Each gift would be carefully chosen, a physical manifestation of his respect and affection, meant to provide comfort and lift their spirits.

In quieter moments, when physical affection is the most appropriate form of support, Thranduil might offer a simple, tender touch—a hand placed gently on their back, a soft caress of their cheek, or his arm brushing against theirs as a silent promise that he is there for them. His touch is always measured, never forceful, yet it is full of care and devotion. His tenderness speaks volumes in these moments, showing that, though he may not be one to speak freely of his emotions, he is unwavering in his support. Lastly, Thranduil might create a sanctuary for his partner, a space filled with warmth and comfort where they can retreat from the world. This sanctuary could be a cozy corner of his palace, draped with soft fabrics and lit with the flicker of candlelight—where no words are needed, only peace and quiet. The safe environment he offers would allow them to collect themselves in private, knowing that he’s there when they’re ready, but never pushing them to recover before they’re ready. Thranduil’s way of cheering his partner up is gentle and unassuming, focusing more on being there for them with actions rather than words. Through his gestures, he provides comfort and a deep, unwavering sense of care that helps them find their way back to a place of peace and strength.

What Makes Him Worry About His S/O the Most? Thranduil’s worries for his partner are deeply rooted in his experiences with loss, responsibility, and his fierce desire to protect those he loves. His greatest fear is that his partner could be placed in harm’s way, especially in situations where his influence, authority, or power as a king cannot reach. As a leader, Thranduil is used to having control over his surroundings, making decisions that ensure the safety of his people, and directing the course of events. However, when it comes to his loved one, there are forces beyond his reach—dangerous situations or emotions that are entirely out of his control. The idea that his partner could face danger that he cannot prevent would gnaw at him. Whether it’s the threat of physical harm, such as an enemy attack or illness, or an emotional betrayal, he would feel an overwhelming sense of helplessness. His pride, which is a cornerstone of his identity as a king, would be bruised by the thought of failing to shield them from harm. He is not used to being powerless, and the vulnerability of his loved one, particularly if they are caught in peril he cannot foresee or stop, would torment him. His duty to them would weigh heavily, as he would feel personally responsible for their well-being. The idea of them suffering, whether through physical injury or emotional distress, would break his heart in ways he cannot easily express. Thranduil’s protective nature, while strong, can sometimes turn suffocating. He would worry about every little detail when they are apart—whether they are on a journey, in a battle, or simply navigating the political intrigue that surrounds him. His mind would constantly race through the possible dangers they might face, imagining every scenario in which they could be hurt. This overprotectiveness might extend to small actions, like ensuring they are safely attended to by the best healers or guarding them from any perceived threat, even if the danger is minor. His actions would speak louder than his words in this case—he would act quickly and decisively, perhaps too much so, driven by an instinctual need to keep them safe.

Emotionally, Thranduil’s worry extends beyond their physical well-being. He also fears the toll life and their relationship might take on them. If his partner is in pain, dealing with inner turmoil or struggling with the weight of their own burdens, Thranduil would worry endlessly about how to help them heal. He fears emotional isolation for his partner—being too proud or too self-reliant to ask for help. Thranduil knows the pain of loss all too well and would worry that his partner might be carrying emotional wounds that they don’t share with him, struggling in silence. This would especially trouble him if he feels like he cannot offer the support they need, due to his own stoicism or because he fears exposing his vulnerabilities. His overprotectiveness, at its core, stems from a desire to prevent them from experiencing the kind of heartache, loss, or vulnerability he himself has lived through. He is terrified of history repeating itself, of losing someone close to him due to circumstances beyond his control. In the quietest moments, when he’s left alone with his thoughts, these fears would rise to the surface—manifesting as sleepless nights, constant vigilance, and a near-obsessive need to ensure their safety and happiness. While he might not openly show the depth of this concern, it would never leave him, and he would continuously find ways—subtle and not-so-subtle—to keep them close and out of harm’s way.

How Often Does Thranduil Stare Lovingly at His S/O? While Thranduil would never openly stare lovingly at his partner in the presence of others—his pride and kingly demeanor forbidding such an overt display of sentiment—when they are alone, his gaze becomes far more expressive. He is not a man of grand romantic proclamations, so his eyes become his way of speaking the words he cannot bring himself to say. In private moments, he might watch his partner intensely, especially when they are engaged in something that captivates him. Whether it’s a simple act, like reading by the firelight, or something more profound, like tending to others with quiet grace, his gaze holds a depth of admiration and reverence. There is something magnetic about the way Thranduil looks at his significant other. His stare is unwavering, as though he is committing every detail of their features to memory—the curve of their lips, the way the light dances in their eyes, the subtleties of their expressions. It’s not just their physical beauty that enthralls him; he is fascinated by the essence of who they are, the strength and spirit that first drew him to them. His looks are often quiet but intense, filled with layers of emotion that only someone who knows him well could decipher. In moments when their eyes meet, his normally steely and impassive gaze softens, allowing an unspoken affection to shine through. These fleeting moments of vulnerability are almost imperceptible to anyone who isn’t paying close attention, but they speak volumes to his partner. His look carries a silent promise of devotion and care, a reminder that beneath his stoic and regal exterior lies a heart that beats for them alone.

Though his gazes are often brief and understated, there is a constancy to them. Even in public settings, he will occasionally allow his eyes to find his partner, though his expression remains composed. To the untrained eye, it might seem like a casual glance, but to his partner, it’s a quiet reassurance—a subtle way of saying, “I see you, and you mean everything to me.” In the solitude of their shared moments, Thranduil’s stares become more prolonged, almost meditative. He might watch them as they sleep, marveling at the serenity they bring into his otherwise tumultuous life, or observe them when they’re lost in thought, admiring their intelligence and resilience. These instances are precious to him because they allow him to let down his guard and simply appreciate their presence, something he cherishes more than he would ever admit. Ultimately, Thranduil’s loving stares are not frequent in the conventional sense—they are reserved for moments when the weight of his duties falls away, and he can truly allow himself to feel. But when they do occur, they are profoundly meaningful, speaking of a love that is as deep as it is eternal.

How Does Thranduil Impress His S/O? Thranduil doesn’t need to put much effort into impressing his partner; his very presence is captivating. His regal bearing, refined elegance, and commanding wisdom set him apart from others, making him effortlessly mesmerizing. However, what truly leaves an impression on his significant other is not his crown or his authority—it’s the glimpses of vulnerability that lie beneath his aloof exterior. In a world where he rarely allows anyone to see the man behind the king, letting his partner witness his genuine care and affection would be an act of profound intimacy and trust. Thranduil might impress them through grand gestures that only a king can offer—gifts of unparalleled beauty, such as rare jewels, intricately crafted artifacts, or tokens imbued with ancient magic. But these offerings are not random; each would be chosen with extraordinary thoughtfulness, reflecting his deep understanding of his partner’s desires, values, or even unspoken wishes. For him, generosity is not about extravagance but about ensuring his partner feels seen, valued, and cherished. Equally, his ways of impressing them are not limited to material things. His true impact lies in small, deeply personal gestures. A rare, genuine smile reserved only for them might feel like a treasure, breaking through his otherwise stoic façade. A delicate touch—a hand brushing theirs during a quiet moment, or a fleeting kiss placed on their forehead—becomes a powerful expression of his feelings. These understated moments, though subtle, carry immense weight because they come from someone who rarely lowers his guard.

Thranduil might also demonstrate his devotion through acts of protection and care. His partner would be struck by the lengths he would go to ensure their safety or comfort, whether that’s guiding them through the golden forests of Mirkwood to show them the hidden beauty of his realm or using his power to resolve a problem that troubles them without ever needing to be asked. His fierce loyalty, quiet attentiveness, and ability to anticipate their needs would leave a lasting impression. Even more impactful are the moments when he allows them to see his struggles—the weight of his crown, his pain from past losses, and the vulnerability he hides from the world. These rare glimpses into his soul would create an unshakable bond, showing that he trusts his partner enough to let them into his guarded heart. For someone as reserved and proud as Thranduil, this openness is the ultimate way of saying, without words, that they mean everything to him. Ultimately, Thranduil doesn’t impress his significant other through displays of power or wealth, but through his willingness to share himself—the man, not the king. His love is shown in the quiet, intimate gestures that speak louder than words, leaving his partner not just impressed, but deeply moved.

Extra bonus (these parts just for fun, love writing them 😈🙈)

𐂂 Thranduil can be extremely competitive when it comes to archery. While he rarely shows it, his love for archery is fierce. He has trained for centuries to be one of the best, and a part of him finds a quiet thrill in demonstrating his skill, especially when others challenge him or try to outdo him. He has a competitive streak that emerges in those rare moments when he’s engaging in archery for fun or competition.

𐂂 Thranduil sometimes enjoys the peace and solitude of his garden more than the grandeur of his palace. His connection to nature runs deep, and he finds solace in the quiet beauty of the natural world. The noise and constant demands of ruling Mirkwood can overwhelm him, so he often retreats to a hidden part of the royal gardens to gather his thoughts, his only companions the trees and flowers.

𐂂 Thranduil has a soft spot for cute animals. While he would never, ever show it in front of anyone, he has a soft spot for small, adorable creatures, like squirrels or birds, bunnies. In his more private moments, he may be seen feeding them or watching them with a surprising level of affection. His cold exterior is simply a mask for how much he secretly loves the quiet company of nature’s more delicate beings.

𐂂 Thranduil might have a few guilty pleasures in the form of books and plays. He enjoys reading historical dramas and high fantasy novels, and he might even indulge in the occasional romantic play or novella, although he will never admit it. If anyone were to find him reading one, he’d likely become flustered and hide it quickly, as he would never want anyone to think he’s indulging in such “low” entertainment.

𐂂 Thranduil has certain robes for certain occasions. His wardrobe is carefully curated, with different robes for different occasions, and he never wears the wrong thing. Each robe is chosen with specific intention: regal attire for meetings with other leaders, more casual garments for moments of relaxation, and ceremonial robes for significant events. He believes that each occasion deserves a distinct appearance, and his outfits are a reflection of his regal status and attention to detail. He’d never show up to an important council wearing anything less than what is appropriate—appearance is everything in his world. (“is wardrobe is a menace”. I quote his own words 🤣 he defo a material gurl 💅 )

𐂂 Thranduil is extremely picky with his wine—only the finest reds. As someone with a refined palate, Thranduil has high standards when it comes to his wine. He insists on the finest, most expensive red wines that Mirkwood has to offer, often having them shipped in from distant lands. A mere ordinary bottle simply will not do, and any lesser wine is swiftly rejected. He takes pride in knowing the details of each wine—its origins, flavor notes, and the craftsmanship behind its creation. To him, wine is not just a drink; it’s an art form.

𐂂 Thranduil secretly loves to be pampered. Though he projects an image of aloof self-sufficiency, Thranduil is secretly fond of being pampered and adored. He’s not above letting someone brush his hair or help him with his armor when he’s feeling lazy. He insists it’s simply “for efficiency,” but deep down, he enjoys the little moments of luxury. Sometimes, when no one is looking, he’ll kick back in his personal chambers and let his attendants offer him foot massages, all while maintaining a dignified air.

𐂂 Thranduil loves gossip and starting rumors. Though he maintains a stoic, authoritative demeanor, Thranduil is secretly obsessed with the drama and intrigue surrounding his court and the realm. He is a master of stirring the pot and enjoys watching how rumors spread, especially if they are based on half-truths or subtle misinterpretations. Often, he’ll casually drop an offhand remark in a conversation, just to see how it gets twisted and magnified by his court. His sharp mind loves watching people scramble to figure out the “truth,” and he enjoys being the only one who knows the real story. He’d never admit it, but the chaos and drama that follow his subtle manipulations entertain him greatly.

𐂂 He has a soft spot for sweet desserts. While his diet is usually focused on the elegant, regal foods of his people, Thranduil can’t resist the occasional indulgence in sweet pastries or desserts, especially if they’re covered in honey or fruit. He tries to keep it a secret but is often found sneaking into the kitchen (at dead of night) for a bite, fully aware that no one dares question his late-night snack habits.

𐂂 He practices his “commanding king” voice in private. Thranduil occasionally spends time rehearsing his speeches or practicing his commands in front of a mirror, making sure his tone is just the right balance of powerful and intimidating. He will shout random lines like “Bow before me!” or “Leave my kingdom!” just to ensure his voice carries the authority and control he desires, and that he’s ready for any situation where his regal tone must shine.

𐂂 Thranduil’s favorite hobby is people-watching… and judging them silently. He can spend hours watching people go about their daily lives from the privacy of his chambers or a balcony, silently judging everything from their posture to the way they speak. It’s one of the few things that allows him to truly “disconnect” from the pressures of kingship—though he can’t help but mentally catalogue everything that bothers or amuses him about those around him.

𐂂 Thranduil can’t stand it when people touch his personal belongings. His space is sacred to him, and even the most mundane of objects are treated with reverence. He has a collection of small, sentimental trinkets, but he would never allow anyone to touch or move them, not even his closest confidants. If anyone dares to pick up one of his things without permission, he’ll give them a sharp, icy look that would make even the bravest shudder.

𐂂 Struggles with showing emotions. While Thranduil feels deeply, expressing those emotions outwardly can be difficult for him. Instead, he shows his care through actions, such as protecting his loved ones or giving them thoughtful, meaningful gifts.

𐂂 Stimming with his hands. When deep in thought or stressed, Thranduil has a habit of fiddling with the rings on his fingers, running his hands along smooth fabrics, or brushing his fingers against leaves and branches. These small actions help him focus and calm himself.

𐂂 Thranduil behaves when he’s nervous or anxious, Reaches for the nearest goblet of wine. Even if he’s not thirsty, Thranduil will reach for a glass of wine and sip it slowly to buy himself time to think or calm his nerves. It’s as much a ritual as it is a comfort.

𐂂 Thranduil behaves when he’s nervous or anxious, Clicks his nails softly. His long, elegant nails might softly click against one another or the armrest of his throne as a barely audible stim. It’s rhythmic and soothing, helping him focus.

𐂂 Thranduil behaves when he’s nervous or anxious, Fidgets with his rings. When he’s feeling uneasy, Thranduil absentmindedly twists the rings on his fingers, sometimes sliding them off and back on repeatedly. The motion calms him and gives his hands something to focus on.

#king thranduil #thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil simps #thranduil x you #thranduil supremacy #thranduil headcanons #thranduil oropherion #thranduil of mirkwood #thranduil headcanon #lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr elves

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delirious-donna · 7 months ago

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Hiromi stood by the window; his jacket and tie were discarded by the couch, and his white shirt wrinkled and creased from the stresses of the day. It made you pause in the doorway, your steps lightening so as not to alert him to your presence.

There was no noise except for the continuous pitter-patter of the rain. It drummed against the slate roof overhead, tinkled against the windows and formed ever-growing puddles in the divets of the street below. Your umbrella had saved you from the worst of it. Head down and focused on your footsteps, you hadn’t taken any enjoyment in navigating the pools of water that were not taken care of by the drains along the road, yet right now… it felt different.

Hiromi was framed by the open window in your living room, leaning against the sill with the sleeves of his shirt rolled back to his elbows and a cigarette dangerously close to being extinguished by the droplets falling steadily to the ground. The tobacco mingled with the petrichor, muted by the earthy aroma to a more pleasant level that had you inhaling deeply as you stepped closer. Your lungs filled with the magic of nature despite being deep in suburban Tokyo, but what drew you in was him.

A white haze surrounded him, one that called out to you and spun playful tendrils around your wrists to pull you close. Perhaps it was a manifestation of what you had fallen for all those years earlier, or maybe it was simply in your head. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your heart sped up and your body instinctively reached out for the solace that only he could provide. Hiromi was your haven, your nirvana. This may be your home but that home was truly wherever he was and you didn’t think he knew that—somehow that only made it all the more true.

Your arms encircled his waist, the cooler air brushing against your skin like a lover’s caress, and your head rested on his shoulder. Tension leaked out, his muscles relaxing and shifting until his breathing evened, and he placed a sturdy hand atop your own. For a while you both stood there; unspeaking yet baring your souls, unmoving but travelling together. The embers from his cigarette flared one last time before flickering out, spent.

“How long have you been standing here?” You asked, at last, breaking the spell of silence and hurtling you both back into the here and now.

“Hm… long enough.” His tone was light, jovial even, and you squeezed around his waist until he gave a small wriggle of protest.

“Long enough to watch your umbrella bob past. I wasn’t sure why you didn’t say something when you got home, but this is nice,” he conceded.

“I was admiring you, Hiro. Hardly a crime for a woman to admire her husband, is it?”

Hiromi snorted and turned slowly to envelop you against his chest. You could hear the steady beat of his heart, smell the fading scent of his cologne and you rubbed your nose into the stiff fabric covering his chest.

“Not one that I think would stand up in court,” he teased, his nose buried deep in your hair.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“True, but I’ll admit that I’d much rather have you here, in my arms, where you belong… than in a courtroom. They can be awfully stuffy.”

“Sounds like you.”

“Oh ho! I’m stuffy now, am I? Well then, I guess I’ll see you in court you—you… husband ogler.”

At that, laughter bubbled up and out. Frothing and eager to fill the room with your humour. You could feel Hiromi’s body judder with the want to join in, only subdued by the bite of his lip. His warm brown eyes fixed upon you as you lifted a hand to cup his jaw and teased your fingertips over the scrape of stubble adorning his cheeks and chin.

“I’m home,” you sighed wistfully.

Hiromi smiled, leaning back to feel stray raindrops land amongst the peppering of greys in his thick black head of hair. The petrichor intensified as if heralded by your declaration, the setting sun breaking through the grey clouds to dapple your bodies in an amber glow. All was right in the world and he felt lucky to be able to say that with conviction.

“Welcome home, my love.”

an: I saw this beautiful piece of art by @kanashiki79 and they were kind enough to allow me to draw inspiration from it for the above. I guess I was in a bit of a sappy mood for Hiro today, but who could blame me?

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma fluff #hiromi fluff #higuruma hiromi fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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trendywaifus · 1 year ago

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thinking bout being miko’s first love and she decides to incorporate one of her first intimate experiences with you in a novel.

“ mikoo! we’re going to get caught by the other shrine maidens, not here! “ you protest in a hushed voice, prying yourself away from the young guuji’s arms. the two of you snuck off from your shrine maiden duties to have a brief break with each other. yae insisted on hiding behind a tree near the shrine to avoid detection. she scoffed, firmly holding you in place by the forearms. “ don’t be such a prude, there’s a reason why i picked this spot. now, quiet down before one of them actually catches us. “

slightly frustrated with your girlfriend’s insistence on using a tree as a hiding spot, you sighed exasperatedly, “ fine, but you’ll have to make up the excuse this time. “ yae rolls her eyes, placing her hand on your flushed cheek to pull you in closer towards her face. “ hah, an excuse? remember with that pretty head of yours that i am guuji of the narukami shrine. i do not need an excuse. “ she husks, half–lidded dusky purple eyes pooling into yours. she pulls you into a kiss, shutting out your doubts.

yae takes your hands and guides them to her waist. then, she encircles her arms around your neck, gently luring your body closer to hers. relaxing in her midst, you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. a soft purr emits from the young guuji, satisfied by your ministration to fuel the excitement. her long well manicured nails affectionately scratches at the nape of your neck, causing you to melt.

“ miko. .” you breathed. she smirks, breaking the kiss to nibble and tug at your bottom lip. “ now, what were you going on about earlier, my (name)? “ you let out a grunt, shyly adverting your eyes away from her teasing gaze. “ oh no. that won’t do, keep those pretty eyes on me. “ yae coos, unhooking one of her arms from yur neck to squeeze your—

“ wh-wha the? miko, this is not how it happened! why did you even include this part in the final draft! “ you yelled in embarrassment, shoving the novel in your lover’s face. she rolls her eyes and plucks the book from your hand. “ dearest, why would i ever make something like that up? I have perfect memory and this was one of our first romantic moments together, how could i not include it in? “ she chuckles, amused at how embarrassed and dumbfounded you look.

“ you sly woman—romantic? we—you!— “

she presses the spine of the open book against your lips, chuckling huskily. “ now, now, i can practically see steam coming out of that pretty head of yours. if you’re so upset about that particular part in the novel, i can’t wait to see your reaction to the later parts. “

#trendy #yae miko x reader #genshin impact women x reader

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sugurugetofavoritemonkey · 2 years ago

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D⋆o⋆r⋆m⋆i⋆ō

Scaramouche x female reader

Summary : As Scaramouche wakes you up in the middle of the night, it seems that you’re the one to blame for a certain problem of his.

Smut : penetration, soft sex with Scaramouche being a tease, nipple stimulation, implied cockwarming, Scaramouche doesn’t want you to waste his cum, maybe excessive use of pet name “dove” sorry. ( If I forgot something please tell me <3 )

880 words

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

You woke up in the middle of the night with Scaramouche rubbing his stiff cock on your behind with insistence.

When he sensed you beginning to stir up from your sleep, a little drowsy, his hand wandered on your thigh, caressing it from your knee to your crotch slowly, erupting goosebumps to tease you further.

“ You’re awake my little dove ? ”

Your sleepy humming reaches Scaramouche’s ears, alas his hips didn’t falter their movements against your ass. His dick throbbing against you with need.

“ You have to take care of the problem you created when you rubbed your ass on my cock all night little minx. ”

Fully awake now, you opt to carry on what you apparently did to him while you slept, moving your hips in a circle against him behind you, to see how he will react, a teasing grin on your face that he could not see.

With a groan, Scaramouche is quick to get his shaft out of its confines, his tip engorged with want. Holding firmly your waist with one hand and stroking his length with the other, your lover closes the gap between his hard length and your dripping little pussy, pulling aside your panties, and rubbing his shaft between your puffy lips, wetting himself in the way and stimulating your clit in dire need of attention, making you exhale a little whine.

“ Aren’t you already awfully wet when I barely just touched you, hm ? ”, he laughed, deep in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

He yearns for you so deeply, just as much as you long for his touch, that he doesn’t waste any more time teasing the both of you and move to slide himself into your messy cunt, slowly, in one go, with little to no resistance due to the amount of wetness that was already oozing out of you, making Scaramouche hum in appreciation.

“ Fuck- little dove, your warmth is encircling me so perfectly. ”, he sinfully moans, still close to your ear.

His hold tightens on your waist when he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts, his hand using your body as leverage while his thrusts are slow and languid, rolling his hips into you with force, to make the pleasure last as long as possible.

Scaramouche’s hand that was previously on your waist goes higher until he can fondle one of your breasts softy under your shirt, teasing the erect nipple with his thumb and index, rolling the flesh bud between them until he can proudly hear you whimper out loud at the sweet pleasure he’s giving you.

Your mind feels foggy with his touches, your hole throbbing and clenching around him at the teasing thrusts he gives you, purposely giving you just what you need to reach your climax with enough stimulation while still only offering what he wants and how he wants to. Your pulse quickens when you feel Scaramouche’s lips lay one, two then three and even more featherlight kisses on all the places he can reach from the back, your glistening neck, your pulsating throat, your warm ears and finally your trembling jaw.

And seeing how much excited you two already were, like you two alway are for each other, and with all the stimulation he’s giving you, you only need a few more drives of his hard length within you, to flutter your eyes shut at the feeling of your climax being this close, that you could almost sense it on the tip of your tongue. And Scaramouche didn’t need you to tell him, to know it either. You were akin to his soulmate after all.

“ I know you’re close, come on little dove, make a mess for me ”, to emphasize, his kisses become stronger, his thrusts faster and his fingers applying just enough more pressure on your aching nipple.

It’s when your peak hits you, that your mouth falls open in a silent cry, Scaramouche whispering a strangled moan in your ear, his cock twitching within your tight walls as he spills his white semens deep inside you, while your walls contract around him at the delicious feeling.

As Scaramouche buries his face in the crook of your warm neck, he keeps on grinding slightly into your quivering hole to ease you down after you've come all over his crotch. His skin and yours glistening with sweat, chests heaving and all that could be heard was ragged breaths in the silent room.

That was, until Scaramouche had left his hand wandering on your exposed shining thigh, up to your waist, to grab you there gently, and making you take impossibly more of his swelling cock, burying himself to the hilt. Making you hiss in overstimulation for a second, until a whisper of his could be heard from behind you, his lips skimming the shell of your ear.

“ Go back to sleep and keep my seed warm until tomorrow morning my sweet dove. "

Quickly followed by an affectionate kiss on your jaw and Scaramouche holding you dearly against his chest, his arms protectively around your form. Sleep soon overcomes you in the most pleasant way, your body relaxing in his, and your fingers interlacing between those of your Scaramouche.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Author’s Note : It’s my first Genshin’s smut and I think that I am kind of really proud of it, since it’s for my lovely Scaramouche and I was so freaking happy to write it even if I had to concentrate a lot to make it as perfect as possible but also because I tried to work on a lot of vocabulary to make the story seem way more lively, hope I did good so please feedback is always appreciated <3

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gremlin-girly · 3 months ago

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Kinktober Day 12

Kink: Competence Pairing: Yelena Belova x f!reader Tags/Warnings: SMUT, competence kink, established relationship, Yelena (she’s a warning), vaginal fingering, light teasing/taunting, pet names (darling, honey), sexual frustration/orgasm denial Word Count: 1.2k

Not beta'd

Summary: Your very attractive super spy girlfriend distracts you whilst you wait for your taxi.

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

A/N: Am I late? Very. Will I be posting literally 15+ fics in two days even if it kills me? Yes. - Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

You knew your girlfriend was a spy and a good one at that. And a good hit woman. And assassin. Lover. The list went on and on. However, it was one thing knowing it and another thing to see it.

Yelena Belova walked behind enemy lines without batting an eye lid. You watched in awe as she flipped not one, not two, but three guards like they weighed nothing before swiftly shooting them between the eyes without breaking her stride. She was a terrifying force of nature; beautifully dangerous in every way, both good and bad.

You replayed the clip again on your phone. Your eyes are still wide as you watch but you’re breathing quicker. Yelena on the phone is all in black, the glimmer of her chain necklace barely visible. Her hair is slightly tousled as if she’s just taken one of her cat naps instead of swatting minions like it's nothing.

You press your thighs together, heat throbbing between them. You lock your phone with a heavy sigh, rubbing your hands over your flushed face, trying to scrub the memory of your girlfriend from your mind’s eye.

Now was the worst possible time to be horny. You were supposed to be going out on a date. You couldn’t postpone it again.

“Hey.”

You startle when Yelena pokes her head from the bathroom, dropping your phone. She smirks at you opening the door further so you can see her outfit; a tee and jeans with her leather jacket and the signature silver chain necklace. It's simple but by God does it work - especially with the heavy liner she wears so well. She leans against the door frame, arms folded and looking smug as she catches your red face scowling up at her when you pick up the phone.

“Watching something you shouldn’t be, darling?” Yelena’s accented taunt only flusters you more.

“No.” You snap, straightening quickly. You clutch your phone to your chest with an iron grip. And of course Yelena notices. Her eyebrow quirks.

“No lies.” She says as she begins to walk towards you. “Show me.”

She holds out her hand, palm up, for your phone the other resting on her hip. You look at her palm and then her face. Moments ago you’d watched her kill mercilessly and those same hands were in front of you. It only added to wanting to slip to your knees before her but this was your little secret. You turn from her, hunkering your shoulders over your phone.

“No way,” you murmur, embarrassed. You don’t know how she’ll react. Yelena looks baffled for a moment and then recovers, frowning.

“Show me.” She says more firmly, still holding out her palm as she gets into your personal bubble. You can smell the soft ylang ylang soap on her skin and it makes you want to lean closer, but the shame and guilt of being caught is too strong. You shake your head feebly and Yelena only grins in response. You recognise that grin, that look in her eyes as she holds up her hands and moves to back away. You know what's about to happen but you’re too weak and slow to stop it.

Yelena side-steps and encircles your waist grabbing your phone-gripping hand, snatching your phone away with ease. She unlocks your phone with one hand as you wriggle against her, trying to take your phone back desperately as she presses play on the video.

Once it starts playing you go still, face reddening. This is single-handedly the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you and you know Yelena is enjoying every moment.

"Why are you watching this video of me?" She questions, her grip on your waist tightening. "And why are you embarrassed to be caught?"

"It's..." You pause and know you can't lie to her again. "It's hot. That's why."

Yelena smirks, pressing her lips to your neck to make you shiver. "Really?" She presses. "You like this?"

She holds the phone directly in your face so that you can't look away. Her teasing tone makes your pulse quicken and you squirm in her grip.

"Yeah." You admit breathily but this time when her lips meet the skin of your neck she nibbles it gently, making you gasp. "Yelena! Our date."

"Hmm?" She looks up at you through her eyelashes. " Oh, that."

"I don't want to postpone it again, baby." You urge despite the heat pooled between your legs. "We keep saying we'll go out and then we end up-"

"Fucking?" Yelena adds helpfully, giving you a smirk.

"- In bed." You finish, trying your best to glare at her but you know she's not deterred in the slightest. "The taxi'll be here in ten minutes anyway."

Yelena raises an eyebrow at you, a hand moving lower down your waist. "I could make you cum in five."

"Lena," You warn, or at least try to; when her fingers tickle the your thighs at the hem of your dress, you stifle a moan. You don't need to look at her to know how smug she looks. Her fingers slip under your dress, teasingly running over your clit in slow deliberate circles just the way you like.

"Try and tell me to stop," She urges tauntingly. "I can feel how wet you are for me already."

You bit down so hard on your lip you think you'll draw blood. It takes all of your resolution and then some to stammer out a choked response.

"S-stop we have to go on our - oh." Before you can even finish your sentence as requested, Yelena slips a flinger under your panties and runs it over your wet slit before sinking it into you, and then moving back to your bare clit. The lack of a barrier turns your legs to jelly, and you grip her arms for support, making Yelena chuckle.

"Feel good, honey?" She purrs into your ear, her fingers teasing your clit and hole so expertly your already beginning to see stars. "I know your body so well. I know you're going to cum for me in your pretty dress."

You gasp a moan, your hips rolling backwards into her. "Yes - feels so good Lena."

"Are you going to cum for me?" She whispers, rubbing your clit and watching the look on your face intently. She knew exactly how you'd look when you cum. She'd made you cum so many times she knew all of your signs; from your face all the way to your cunt.

"Yes! Oh my God - Lena -"

Yelena removes her hand away from your soaked pussy immediately, making you moan out and whine her name. She smirks, holding her glistening fingers in front of her face and keeps eye contact with you as she licks them clean.

"I said could make you cum in five minutes," She points out, kissing your cheek. "I didn't say would."

You huff, fixing her with a frown but she only chuckles.

"Come on," She says taking your hand gently and leading you to the door. "We have a date. You can cum for me later."

Your legs wobble slightly but you follow behind her, scowling at her all the way to the taxi. You were going to get your own back

#Kinktober 2024 #no beta we die like men #gremlin girly writes #yelena belova #yelena black widow #yelena x reader #yelena x you #yelena x y/n #marvel mcu #kinktober #kinktober day 12 #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova smut #yelena belova fanfiction

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dreamofjoys · 5 months ago

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IKEMEN PRINCE ♡ Break up prank

— Synopsis: You decided to pull a break up prank on your lover. How will they take it?

— Characters involved: Chevalier Michel, Gilbert Von Obsidian

— C/W: French kissing(tongue to tongue), sulky Chev, Gil threatening to wage war as a prank (or maybe not), they may come across as yandere but that’s not intended (just possessive)

You thought that it would be funny to try the break up prank with Chevalier and watch how he will react to it

“Chevalier….. lets break up”

Silence

The brutal beast continues sit on his usual place in the gazebo at the rose garden while reading his book. He didn’t even look at you, almost as if you weren’t there

“Uhm…Chevalier…?”

You took a seat next to your lover, waving your hand in front of him to get his attention

Chevalier did not react to your antics at all

Instead, he snapped the book shut and placed it aside

The next thing that you knew, Chevalier had grabbed you and placed you on his lap

His arms were encircled around your waist, hugging you tight to his body

“Chevalier, what’s going on?”

Still no response from him, but the grip he has on you tightened

“Hehhhhhh…. Are you sulking because I said that I would break up with you?” You grinned cheekily and wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling ecstatic at Chevalier’s reaction

Chevalier look away and let out a small hmph, still not responding

“Don’t sulk okay? It’s just a small prank.” You peppered his face with kisses, knowing that he loves being rained with kisses from you

When you kissed on his lips, Chevalier suddenly pinch on your waist, causing you to yelp in response

He quickly slip his tongue into your mouth, eager to explore every inch of it

By the time he was satisfied with the kiss, he pulled away and smirked at the sight of you panting

“I don’t see how you can break up with me, when you can’t even escape from my grip and attack.”

“Gilbert, let’s break up”

You stood in front of your lover, trying to muster up all the courage to stare back at his blood red eyes

You just wanted to know how Gilbert would react to this prank. Will he throw a fit? Will he start crying? Will he get mad?

Instead of being angry, Gilbert’s smile widened (:D)

“Little rabbit, I have something to show you.” Gilbert grabbed your hand and brought you back to his room

Something is wrong. Although this is a prank — a part of you knows that he might know too — He looks too calm and happy in this situation…

“Here, read this.” Your lover passed you a stack of documents while you eyed his suspiciously, wondering what is it

The title of the document is “Plan to Invade Rhodolite”

?????!!!!!!??????

“Ahhhh I’m so sad, my lover doesn’t love me anymore.”

“Wai-wait! Gil!”

“I have been working on this for awhile now. And right now, it seems like the perfect time to execute this plan. This project is going to be a big success, I can feel it.”

“It’s a prank!”

“If only the little rabbit showed me more love… then I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”

Finally deciding that he wasn’t going to listen to you, you flung yourself onto his body and hug him tightly

“Gil, I’m not letting you out of this room.”

“Ehhhh, I thought you want to break up with me?”

“N-no, I meant it as a joke! I still love you, Gil.”

“Really, how much do you love me?” Gilbert raised his eyebrow at you, eager to know what your response is

“I love you so much that I want to be glued to your side forever.”

“Really? Let’s do that then.” The smile on Gilbert’s face is so wide that he resembles a happy child who just received a christmas present

You thought that Gilbert was just pranking you back about glueing you to his side forever, but he ended up inventing a new type of glue a few days later

“Here little rabbit, let’s glue us together. What do you mean no? You love me right? We shall never be apart from each other.”

#ikemen chevalier #ikemen prince chevalier #cybird chevalier #cybird #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #chevalier Michel #ikemen prince #dreamofjoysikemenprince

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chokochip27 · 2 years ago

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genshin characters learning that you can fight (part 1)

| alhaitham, zhongli

part two

warning: blood, violence, reader is visionless and can be the polar opposite of the character (you share some similarities, of course), genshin charas may be ooc

ALHAITHAM

although the two of you were admittedly polar opposites, it was exactly that contradiction that made him fall in love with you.

to alhaitham, you were capable and trustworthy. you are not a scholar, you are a librarian and a normal citizen in sumeru. you help people with their stuff, travel through far distances safely and giving easy suggestions and solutions to problems that are hard to solve for others.

it's not like you can keep up with everything that he can do, considering that he has a mind that not everyone can easily understand, you are sometimes confused at the words that leave his mouth. but to him, that was completely fine. you were very eager to learn despite not being a scholar. and you knew that even if people had different ways of thinking, it was exciting to understand the thoughts behind it.

unlike him, you were considerate, always thinking of the people around you, how they would feel in a situation if you do something—no matter who you were with—a stranger, an acquaintance, a close friend—you treated everyone with kindness and decency.

you were also quiet. maybe that was the similarity you shared with him. you're not the type of quiet that isn't confident to speak, but you were just quiet because you didn't speak when it wasn't necessary.

you are also very gentle with the way you speak, you always spoke softly that people would mistaken you as weak and delicate.

in spite of the fact that your manners were demure and tranquil, you did not avoid people. in fact, you enjoy other people's company, but you're the type to listen to them.

to alhaitham, you were serene. you are a comfort he never knew he needed in his life. so when the two of you got together, the love he had for you got softer, still deep nonetheless.

instead of bringing blossoming butterflies and explosions in his stomach, instead of giving him wild blushes that would reach from his chest up until his ears—you made him feel warm and comforted. your existence alone to him was comfort.

alhaitham wanted to know everything about you. and probably because of that eagerness to know that he actually knows you better than you know yourself.

"haitham, it is rare for you to come to aaru village."

you were here because you are currently working on building a library in the village, so that the people in the desert can access to more books. he missed you, so he headed here. he did not know the exact location you were in and asked questions to the people he knew here. and since he already stayed here during the operation of saving lord kusanali, the people gladly helped him and he was able to reach you quickly.

a sporadic upturn imprinted on his lips as he gazed at you softly. he reached out, cupping your cheek and tilting his head slightly to meet your gentle eyes.

"certainly. but, you are here."

you simply smiled. "i am flattered that my lover has gone here just to see me," you said, leaning your head to alhaitham's chest. you breathed out, feeling the tiredness seeping in your veins to disappear at the mere contact with him. you felt his hand caressing your head and his free arm wrapping around your waist.

alhaitham leaned his cheek on top of your head and pecked your temple. "tired?"

"yes, but it's nothing that i can't handle. thank you."

"i see. why don't we go outside and get some fresh air?"

"great idea, let's go."

the two of you went outside and walked through the soft sands of the desert. alhaitham held your hand the entire time while you had your arm encircled on his. the little walk was quiet yet comforting. there was no awkwardness or tension at all. the two of you are not the type to converse that much and each others' presence were only needed to know that you love one another.

but all of that was disrupted by a scream.

"HELP!!!"

you and alhaitham were startled. without hesitation, you ran to the source with alhaitham obediently following you and guarding you in case that someone ambushed from behind.

you ran and in sight, there was a group of eremites. there were twelve people, ganging up on a single person. you were about to approach them to alleviate the situation, but alhaitham gripped your arm. you turned to him, worried for the person, but you stiffened after seeing the glare on his eyes.

"do not ever rush in. i'll handle it."

as soon as he said that, his sword went flying towards the eremites. he controlled it with his vision, making it seem like a boomerang. it hit the five eremites that were close to the person who was being hurt for no reason. they collapsed, earning the attention of the other eremites.

"who's there?!"

"the akademiya?!"

"get him!"

when the remaining eremites rushed to your lover, knowing that he could truly handle this, you calmly went to the person and cut the ropes that she was tied into. "are you alright? are there any injuries that i must take note of?"

the person shook her head. "i'm alright... j-just some gashes on my arms and legs."

"do not underestimate gashes, young lady." you tore a portion of the long skirt that you were wearing (it was clean, you made sure of it before going out) and wrapped it around the wounds that were visible to your eyes. "depending on the severity of those, you might have to get them stitched. you wouldn't want that, no? being stitched is painful," you told her.

the lady laughed at your tone. "i wouldn't... thank you for coming to my help."

you chuckled and shook your head. "i didn't do anything, after all, it was my lover who—" you were cut off by seeing the horrified look on her face. you inclined your head in confusion at her reaction and turned at the source of the shadow dawning before you. you turned, only to see a blade aimed to your head.

"miss!"

alhaitham heard the call and gritted his teeth to see you being confronted by an eremite. he kicked down one of his enemies and ran the fastest as he has ever been to reach you. "(y/n)!"

even though to the two—to alhaitham and to the person you were helping, that you were about to die—but to you, you were going to be fine.

it has been a while, you simply thought.

without a moment of hesitation, you reached for the small dagger sitting quietly on your thigh and sliced the outer skin of the eremite's whole arm with such intensity and accuracy. the eremite let out a scream of pain, however you stood unfazed and composed. you slid on the sand and kicked the eremite's legs, causing them to fall with a groan.

you saw another eremite approaching closely, they seemed startled at your stunt, so you took that advantage to run over them and elbow them in the face. you threw your dagger to the other eremite's blade that was coming up behind you and jabbed them on the front of their neck using your heel.

you didn't feel gazes of bloodlust anymore, so you stretched your arms carefreely in the middle of battle and thought that there weren't threats anymore.

you yawned out of exhaustion and lack of sleep. i haven't moved like that in a while, so it really is tiring, you thought.

"(y/n)!" you turned to the exclaim of your lover and were startled to feel arms wrapped around you. you tried to return his gesture, but before you could do, his hands were on your shoulder, and you could see could feel the slight shake in his body. you blinked at the unfamiliar expression on his face.

why does he look so scared...?

"be careful next time... you shouldn't have rushed in to help so quickly."

you nodded and patted his hand. "i will. thank you, haitham. and i'm sorry."

he pursed his lips and shook his head. "you... don't have to apologize. i'm just glad you're alright." he frowned. "i'm sorry for not being able to protect you."

you continued patting his hands. "don't apologize, haitham. it was my choice to get in the middle of the fight, so i will take responsibility for it. it's not your fault."

alhaitham let out a shaky sigh and nodded at your words. "alright." he backed away, but still held your hands in fear that you would disappear at any moment.

he could still remember everything that you did and he could only stand there in shock.

he thought he knew everything about you, but never did you mention or show skills that you could fight. you handled those eremites without a vision with such ease and effortlessness. he thought that you could never make him feel so erratic about love, but he admits that his heart beat wildly at the sight of you fighting against eremites like that. he could even feel his face heating up at the moment your gentle eyes glinted dangerously at your enemies with unbreakable focus.

he watched from behind as you helped out the injured lady and covered his face that was painted with a volatile color of pink, the scenes of you fighting against the eremites repeating in his head again and again.

he wished that you would never get into harm's way again, but at the same time, he secretly wishes that he can see you fight like that again.

"haitham? are you alright? are you not coming with us?"

"no. i'll be there."

his heart was still thumping loudly on his chest.

it was so different from the usual you that was so soft and tranquil.

he wanted to see that unexpected side of yours once more.

extra:

"where did you learn how to fight like that?"

"my father was a mercenary and i love watching him train at home back then, so he taught me along the way."

"father was a mercenary? i never would have thought... why did you never tell me though?"

"you're a genius, haitham, so i thought you knew."

"i didn't. you and your father never made it seem it like you knew how to fight like that."

"really?"

"yes. when we get home, please tell me more about yourself, so that i am prepared."

"prepared...? for what exactly?"

"my heart."

"???"

ZHONGLI

you are very much like zhongli, a chatterbox. but a more optimistic and cheerful version. you have a way of making other people comfortable. the atmosphere around you was extremely approachable and people wouldn't hesitate to talk to you simply because your company is easygoing to be with.

you have a way of telling stories. you use sound effects way too much and you make gestures with either your hands and arms. it was so funny and interesting to look and listen to you because your happiness was way too contagious.

if zhongli was polite, elegant, serious, and regal, you were the complete opposite of that.

you were a happy-go-lucky person and admittedly loud, but not in an irritating way. in fact that way you were loud brought joy to others. you laughed and smiled a lot, you talked a lot and you are quite the weird person, but that doesn't mean you were immature. you just knew how to have fun in life. that was your motto, 'for life to be as laidback and happy as possible'.

and probably, you know how to be serious when needed. probably.

zhongli didn't know when, but you easily made a way to his heart. just one moment, he was taking note of all of your habits. he was watching you all the time and his gaze followed you every single time you were close. to him, you were an enigma that he couldn't predict nor read. yet you were so endearing and loveable at the same time.

you worked as a deliverywoman. it actually suited you because of your jolly personality. you always greeted customers with enthusiasm and treated them as if you have been friends for a very long time. zhongli knew this since there are a lot of times that he comes with you during his free time.

you have been together for two years. yet there was never a time where zhongli hasn't seen you frown or be in a mood where you are sad. whenever you two are together in private, you are still the chatterbox and happy person he knew, just a little softer than the usual.

he was actually worried that you didn't express your sadness, but you told him to not worry as you told him that you don't remember the last time you have been sad. you were the type to always look at the bright side. he was glad that you aren't exhausted from being like that every single day.

from the thousands of years that he has been living in teyvat, he has never met someone like you. it may be an exaggeration, but he was telling the truth. and he was extremely glad to meet you. not to mention, to be together with you, entwined as lovers was an eternal bliss to him that he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. no contract would be able to break it.

today, the two of you were walking in guyun stone forest to delivery a package coming from a strange address. you told zhongli about this and he was worried since he didn't know if there were actual houses in guyun. because of this, he came with you.

"whoa! i've heard of stories from you, love, but i didn't expect guyun to be this... cool and so... wham!" your eyes were sparkling in excitement, causing your lover to smile affectionately. "although..." he hummed and pointed all his attention to you. "...it's swarming with monsters, haha!" you exclaimed, laughing at the hilichurls and ruin guards in the place. you even saw some abyss mages on top of the mountain.

zhongli chuckled. normally people would be scared, wouldn't they? you really are such an enigma. he wrapped his arm around your waist and told you, "indeed, so you have to stay close to me at all times."

"i will be protected by the god of contracts himself! my, what an honor!" you joked, poking his cheek. zhongli only chuckled more and leaned closer to you.

"what does the address say?"

"well... i actually wouldn't know since it only says at the corner of guyun." you sweatdropped and crossed your arms with a pout. "to whoever sent this, if this is a prank, i'll bonk you! there are so many corners yet you weren't specific at all! i love my job, but i would be having a date with my lover if weren't for this, you know!" you declared, your words only making your partner laugh.

you were ranting and your usually vigilant lover was going along with your antics, so you two didn't notice the large lawachurl approaching from behind.

zhongli heard the footsteps, wrapped his arm around you and immediately summoned his shield to protect the two of you. the lawachurl's fist stopped midair and you were left flabbergasted at the exchange, but you snapped out of your daze and jerked your head towards zhongli. his amber eyes were glowing a bright gold, yet you still couldn't help but be concerned for him.

under his protection, you cupped his cheek, asking in alarm, "li! are you alright?"

he blinked at your concern and smiled. "of course. why would you ask that, my beloved?"

you breathed out in relief and shook your head. "it's nothing..." you assured him and gripped his clothes tightly. you looked around, gulping at the swarm of lawachurls surrounding the two of you. can li really handle this...? you glanced at zhongli who was holding dominance over the lawachurl in front of him. i know he's a god, but... you sighed shakily at the number of ruin guards approaching you two. there are so many of them.

if only i could help him and lessen his burden... your eyes caught sight of an old great sword coincidentally laying on the ground. oh, speak of the devil, you thought and crouched down to hold it.

"(y/n), i will handle this, so please stay here." before he could even get your response, your figure ran past him.

zhongli has never felt so much fear in his life.

his heart dropped as he yelled your name, "(y/n)!"

he gritted his teeth and was about to chase after you, but he was stumped, stupefied beyond belief at what he saw.

you just sliced a lawachurl into half.

he stood there, stopped in his tracks as he watched you continue to evade the attacks of the monsters and cut their limbs, you effortlessly swung the claymore at them and defeat them in the blink of an eye. you were similar to him in a way. defeating opponents without even batting an eye.

as you fought, you were still wearing the smile he loves so much. the difference is the feeling behind it. unlike your normal smile that was filled with joy everyday, your smile right now was calm and confident as if you completely knew what you were doing and you weren't going to lose anytime soon.

a god like him has witnessed all sorts of phenomenon and events in this world, but never would he have thought to see his beloved partner—not to mention, you did not have a vision—defeating monsters so easily. you were just using pure strength to fight the lawachurls.

how come he didn't know anything about this? how come you never told him that you could fight this gallantly and professionally?

his mouth separated, gaze shimmering as he watched you in complete awe.

you didn't even need his help. your strength even rivaled those to who have visions, maybe you were even more powerful. that's how strong you were.

and that's exactly why he was just standing there. he was so enamored with you. he didn't even notice the slight blush that was covering his cheeks and the love swirling in his eyes.

why do you constantly do things that surprise him?

"li!" you called him, breaking him out of his bafflement. you grinned, throwing the package away and lifting the claymore easily with one hand. "come on! we gotta finish this, right?"

his eyes fluttered in confusion, but he quickly smiled and summoned his polearm.

"i suppose you're right."

he has fallen for you all over again.

extra:

"how in the archons' names were you able to do all of those things?"

"hm? didn't i mention that i was a former pirate, li?

"you mentioned that, yes, but... i thought you were responsible for cooking food."

"yeah! that's true! ohhh, i think i forgot to mention that i sometimes substituted for captain beidou if she had things to do! i've been friends with her for so long after all, so i eventually learned how to fight like boom, whack, fwam, too!"

"you never told me that..."

"awww, sorry! stop pouting at me like that! uwah—you're so cute!"

"you're cuter. and don't do such reckless things next time."

"yes, my lord!"

note: sorry, i just love characters that have a certain duality in them! like y'know, they change according to the situation and they're like a different person? holy moly, that's so hot. anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this! part two will be ayato and kazuha. idk when will i be able to write it, but hopefully, i can write it shortly after this. have a great day!

#genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact #genshin imagines #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you

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