#sleep dearie sleep

[boardchairman-blog]

**Shots of the Episode**

The Crown (2016)

Season 6, Episode 10: “Sleep, Dearie Sleep” (2023) Director: Stephen Daldry Cinematographer: Adriano Goldman

[hitchell-mope]

The kindest thing I can say about this show is that the only two I ever gave a damn about were King Charles III and Queen Camilla.

[javasquats]

This has been driving me crazy so I may as well share hear to reach a broader audience. Does anyone know the name of the pipe tune that plays at the very beginning of the last episode of the crown? My sister and I have both played in pipebands for years and we KNOW the tune but can’t remember the name. Any insight is so so appreciated!

[thewideawakechronicles]

"hey noah, your wife got a new dress"//

" She's just as gorgeous as ever.. "

(I am so late on this lmao)

[softquietsteadylove]

Hello love, how are you doing? 🩷🤍

I saw this meme today and i can only think of thenamesh

I feel like Thena would try to set up a romantic dinner for her husband, with candels and flowers, and she would also try to cook, she wants to make a perfect dinner for her perfect husband.

But when Gil arrives to the aparment it smells like burned food, the smoke detector is going off, Thena is on a chair trying to turn it off and the kitchen is a mess.

Gil checked his phone yet again. Thena had told him that she wanted to try being the one to take care of their anniversary this year. Exactly by what means, he didn't know, but she wanted to surprise him, and he thought it was sweet.

According to her, she had even left work early to set things up so that he could come home to things already in motion. He had to admit he was excited, if maybe cautious.

Things like this hadn't always worked in his wife's favour. Not for lack of trying, she did want to be the romantic one from time to time--spoil him with gestures and sweet words. But cooking wasn't her strength, she wasn't much of a poet, and sometimes she got herself more worked up than anything.

He always tried to tell her that she spoiled him when she agreed to marry him. Every little affection she gave and allowed was a gesture. And he didn't need her to do anything big or romantic to know that she loved him.

Thena wasn't one for words, but she did value loyalty and actions reflecting who a person was. That was what made them such a good team.

Gil got off the elevator. The first thing he noticed was the smokey smell in the air. And they didn't live in a building that allowed smoking. He picked up his pace a little.

The next thing that hit him was the sound of the smoke alarm. He picked up his pace even more. He had a bad feeling about this, and the further down the hall he got, the worse it set in.

He was right in his feeling, arriving at the door to their apartment and knowing the alarm was coning from inside. He fumbled with his keys in his rush to get inside. Without a thought to denting the wall behind it, he threw the door open, "Thena!"

There his wife was, in all her glory. She had flour all over her, something on her cheek and her sleeves. She was standing on one of the dining chairs trying to fan the smoke alarm with a towel that looked suspiciously charred on the corners. All the windows were open, but the oven was simply giving off too much noxious gas.

Thena looked up as he burst in. She attempted to smile, "hey...honey."

He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. On the one hand, his wife was safe, and that was all that truly mattered. But he couldn't completely drown out the cacophonous background surrounding them. The kitchen was a disaster, he could see candles and another possible fire hazard on the table--a vase of flowers that seemed a little sparse on one side. He didn't even want to imagine what was actually cooking in the oven.

Thena took his silence for condemnation. She pinched her lips closed, climbing down from the chair now that the smoke alarm was silent again. She wrung the ruined dishtowel in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Gil."

He just stared as she slinked over to him, her delicate shoulders bunched up tight.

"I really wanted to do something special for you," she admitted in a miserably small voice. Her throat tightened. "I studied this recipe, and I was going to have it ready when you got home, and I picked up flowers, and-"

He shook his head, pulling her into his arms at the first sign of tears. Thena wasn't much of a crier, but he knew that when it did happen, there was truly a huge amount of feelings stuck inside of her. He rubbed her back, "hey, hey, sh, it's okay."

"But-" she mumbled, smothered by the softness of his sweater. "You're always-"

"Sweetheart, I love that you tried to put on a big, romantic anniversary dinner," he chuckled, kissing her forehead. She pulled her head up to pout at him, unsatisfied with his lacklustre comforting. He smiled at her, though. "You really went all out!"

She sighed heavily, letting him turn her in his arms so they could truly assess the damage. "There's something of a pot roast in the oven."

"Pot roast, huh?" he mused aloud for the sake of it. He was already running through the recipe, wondering what on earth could have possibly tripped her up so much as to cause this amount of damage.

"I also attempted yorkshire puddings," she lamented, tilting her head up at him behind her. "I know how you love them."

He did love them--he had grown a fondness for a lot of English recipes, against all odds. And he could see how the scorching hot oil - as required for good, proper puddings - could have gone up in smoke.

"I'm sorry," she sighed again, going back to burying herself in his chest. "This isn't the anniversary surprise I intended."

He kissed the top of her head again, swaying them with his arms around her. "Are you kidding? You made pot roast and homemade puds?--with your track record?"

She gave his side a pinch, which was a good sign.

"This is amazing," he rested his cheek on her hair. Thena hated cooking of any kind, and not just because she was bad at it, and she wasn't bad at it just because she hated it. But despite that, she had tackled what even seasoned home cooks dreaded, just for him.

She sniffled away the last of her self pity, pushing at him. "You should go and rest. You've had a long day. Let me clean up my mess."

"Nice try," he chuckled, as if his teeny-tiny wife was going to be able to push him anywhere. Thena was stronger than she looked, sure, but he was stronger. He captured her around the waist again. "We're gonna get this cleaned up together. Then we're gonna get some fresh clothes on, and you can find us a place that makes the second-best yorkshire puddings in town."

"Second best?" she challenged.

He scratched the base of her spine in the way that made her shiver. "After mine, obviously."

"Obviously," she murmured as he lifted her off her feet just enough to walk them over to the sink. "You don't have to help me."

"For better or worse, sweetie," he reminded her as he bent to take a look at just what had happened in his precious oven. He used the dishtowel - singed as it was - and an oven mitt to retrieve her labours of love.

All things considered, the pot roast looked pretty good, although maybe the vegetables surrounding it were a little black on the edges. And to his surprise, despite the black stains of inflamed oil all along the bottom of the oven, the puddings did actually puff. He plucked at one with his fingers, and it wasn't stuck in the least.

"Gil?"

He even managed to pop it into his mouth. "Y'know, I've had worse."

"You're not serious," she droned. Although, when he offered her one, even she couldn't deny that the colour and shape of it wasn't grotesque. She sniffed it.

"So, you made a smoked pot roast," he shrugged, chomping on another pudding. "It's pretty good, babe."

She took a more critical bite of it, staring him down the whole time, looking for any indication that he was lying to spare her feelings. But she conceded her pleasant surprise as she chewed. "it's not awful."

"I think it was just the oil," he shrugged. If she had used olive oil, which he was guessing she did, it would have started smoking immediately, and it did explain the slight bitterness to the outside of them. But that aside, they really weren't bad little pastries. He took another one, "I'd say you did a bang up job!"

She rolled her eyes at him, as she always did when he tried to put on some form of a bad cockney accent. But she smiled as she swiped away some crumbs from his lips. "Thank you, love."

He leaned in, capturing her lips, sharing in the taste of bitter olive oil and yorkshire pudding dough. "I should be thanking you. This is one hell of a surprise."

"Hm," she pulled away, looking from the kitchen to the dining room table, still set, although at least the candles were extinguished. "I wouldn't say it was positive."

"Hey," he nudged her, asking for another kiss (which she granted). He touched his forehead to hers. "You're supposed to say 'happy anniversary, Gil, I love you too'."

Thena laughed, which completely drowned out the rest of the stress of the mess they had to clean and anything that could come out of the rest of the night. Her hands found their home on his chest as he kissed down her temple to her cheek, "happy anniversary, darling."

"That's more like it," he grinned, finally arriving at the angle of her jaw and the curve of her neck. She pushed at him again before he could distract them both from the task at hand. He pouted at her.

"Mess," she ordered, with her hand trailing lovingly over his arm. "Then food, then fun."

His eyes sparked, "fun?"

His blonde fox of a wife gave him a look that was both sly and coquettish as she unwrapped his apron from around her. "This was not the only component I had in mind for you. And it would be truly impossible to light the other part aflame."

"I dunno, I feel pretty hot under the collar," he chuckled as he eagerly started running the tap. He would scrub the oven out properly this weekend. For now, he had a lovely evening to spend with his wife.

[yearningaces]

I love your writing. It's always a joy to see your words appear on my screen. Add to it the wonderfulness of the non-sexual manner I get to see affection through your words. It's like a wonderful breath of fresh air. I hope you have many books, and as much rest as you can. Along with good compensation for the work you're doing off the web. Be safe and relax when you can <3

Babes you have made my night, crops watered, bed made and fluffy, drink crisp and cold XYZ

Joking tone aside, I do my best to provide stories of love and affection and mutual care and understanding without constant sex. Sex is fine if someone enjoys it but I know I get tired of reading around it or feel uncomfortable with sweet stories even making innuendos and such (repulsed tbh but if it's not my cuppa tea I keep scrolling. I'm so tired of scrolling though) and that's why I made this blog in the first place!

I'm always happy to offer nonsexual stories revolving different expressions of affection, I'm just so happy so many folks enjoy it with me🖤🤍🩶💜

[uravityxo]

morning friends !! i am awake SUPER early :(( i am hoping i'll be able to fall back asleep,,, if not!! hellloooo~

[thedeadthree]

IRYNA PASTERNAK — the last of us.

(SLOW HEAVY METAL MUSIC PLAYING)

@jendoe asked: 🌞 + IRYNA

[vampiricgf]

— v. lycaon | perfect coincidences

·₊̣̇. ⊱ warnings: fem reader, baby fever, breeding kink, he just wants to knock you the fuck up, explicit talk of pregnancy, knotting, creampie, praise, established relationship, biting, pet names (sweetheart, little mate), mating press, crying, cervix fucking, he's also so in love with you it's sickening

wc: 2.5k+

tumblrs being stupid so im sorry if this posts n the formatting is off >.< im once again saying he would have the most diabolical breeding kink okie bye~‹𝟹

It had been a running commentary all day as you two ran errands together, from one person after the next.

At the flower shop, being stopped by a kindly older woman who asked for help selecting flowers for a granddaughter. Of course Lycaon knew the best ones and the old woman was clearly absolutely taken with him, ever the gentleman, as you'd watched with a bemused smile on your face. Only when she had finished and paid for the colorful bouquet did she turn to you, grinning in that sort of conspiratorial way grandmothers tend to do.

"Your husband is wonderful, do you two have any children by chance?" With a light hand on your forearm she posed the question.

It left you floundering briefly. Husband? Children? You two weren't even married, had only been dating for a little over a year.

"Oh no we're not-"

"Well, you should definitely change that dearie," she grinned and gave you a wink, which only made you run hot all over and stutter before she walked out of the shop humming to herself.

As Lycaon returned to your side, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers tucked in the crook of his elbow he gave you a curious once over. "Is everything alright?"

You shook your head, flashing him a small smile and grasping his hand tightly in yours. "I'm fine, do you want to grab coffee before we go home?"

Then again inside the Coff Cafe, as he handed you the bouquet to hold so he could pay and grab your drinks a young woman standing next to you gave you a wistful look, eyes flicking from the bouquet to Lycaons back.

"You're so lucky to have somebody who gets you flowers."

That made you shyly glance down at the fragrant blooms before answering. "Mhm, he is really wonderful."

"I bet you two have the cutest little kids, all fuzzy ears and fluffy tails." She sighed longingly and you could only feel bewildered. Was there something about you screaming talk to me about my hypothetical kids today?

You laughed nervously, feeling grateful for Lycaons return and gladly accepting the warm to-go cup from his hand before answering as you turned to leave. "Well, I hope you find someone to bring you flowers."

You felt him looking at you quizzically as the door jingled shut behind you and the mild chill of the outside world returned as you walk towards the metro station.

"Isn't it strange, all these people asking if we're married or have kids today?" You said, looking up at him and not quite sure what you're hoping his answer will be.

His face was unreadable, in the way he gets with his clients, like he's purposely maintaining a safe distance as he responds. "I suppose it's only natural to wonder."

His noncommittal answer only left you more puzzled but as you two boarded the train you took the opportunity to silently ponder the questions from strangers, fingers tangled loosely in his as you sat side by side.

Would we have cute kids?

~

It was late when his eyes cracked open, late enough that the bedroom was still pitch black and you were sound asleep against him, curled on your side with your back pressed to his chest. He could hear your soft, even little puffs of air in the dark as his nose pressed to the back of your neck.

You murmured something in your sleep, something that sounded an awful lot like his name and it brought a little thrill to his heart. He tried to mostly keep it contained but the reality was that you were just so sweet, so adorable and as it turns out you were the exact same way when you were unconscious and it made his arms flex, squeezing around you a little tighter.

He'd heard the term once from Ellen at work, cuteness aggression. It fit how he felt about you in moments like this, as if he could just squeeze and squeeze until you two were mashed into one entity because you were just too cute, it couldn't be helped.

My adorable little mate.

The sudden thought made him freeze. You two weren't actually mated, and it was at his own insistence. He never wanted to hurt you and constantly worried anytime you brought it up because the simple fact was that he was stronger than you and could easily lose control of himself during the act. It was already hard enough to not pummel his knot inside you like you were just a toy when you two had sex, no matter how much you begged for it.

But then again, it was an urge, a longing, he consistently felt the need to fulfill. To dig his teeth into the side of your neck, hold you still while his knot locked you two together and he drowned your fluttering pussy in cum. More than enough to get you pregnant.

Unconsciously his hand slipped beneath your shirt, massaging slow circles into your side, then your tummy. You'd look so beautiful like that, belly all round with his child and breasts swelling with milk. Your scent would change first with the undercurrent of that sweet, milky smell all young children carry with them for a short while.

You'd looked at him so expectantly earlier as you'd asked what he thought about all those people commenting on if you had children at home. You'd tried to sound flippant, but he could tell you expected a certain answer from him. Had seen the look on your face on the train, silently pouring over the question and it didn't take much to know you were imagining those hypothetical babies.

But even after more than a year of dating he'd never once cum inside you, always pulling out to press your thighs together and fuck them before spilling against your stomach and chest.

He'd take such good care of you though, you'd never lift a finger or even leave the bed if you didn't desire to throughout the entire long nine months. You'd be a princess inside this spacious home, wanting for nothing and he'd lavish you every second of the day if you let him. No part of you would go underappreciated.

As his hips started moving of their own accord, pressing his growing erection against the swell of your ass, and he breathed you in even deeper it suddenly clicked, a bizarre flash of perfect clarity.

He needed to get you pregnant, needed to knot you as many times as possible to make sure it took, needed to make you cry out and do that thing he secretly enjoys: twining the fur at the back of his neck between your fingers to tug on it then smoothing it back down as if you're apologizing for the act. Wanted to feel exactly how tight you could get when he squeezed his knot inside and felt you clamping down on him to milk him for all he had.

Oh and he'd give it to you, give you everything you could ever ask for.

"Lycaon?" Your voice was low, thick with sleep as you stirred at the feeling of him grinding against you.

He gave a little mhm before burying his face against your neck again, nipping and sucking lightly on the delicate flesh, his hand sliding higher to grope at your breasts beneath his shirt you wore. Never before has been so thankful for your habit of wearing only his shirts and a pair of panties to bed.

Your own hips moved lazily with his, little groans muffled as you turned your head to the pillow that only spurred him on to pull the flimsy fabric between your legs to the side, dipping a finger into your wetness before sliding up to play with your clit. As soon as the pad of his finger pressed against you your breathing changed, becoming a little more rough the more he circled and teased at your needy little bud.

Before long he was lapping at your neck, practically whining as he ground his now painfully hard cock against you and plunging two fingers inside your soaking wet heat. The way your body eagerly welcomed the intrusion only fueled the haze of lust gripping his mind, reinforced the thought that this was what you wanted too.

But tonight he was too impatient to do his usual routine of playing with your pussy until you were so wet it would stick to your thighs and drip down to the sheets. Tonight he had a more direct goal driving him forward.

So gently he encouraged you to turn onto your back, letting him slide those silky underwear off and spread your legs wide, drawing sticky hearts against your clit with one hand while the other hiked up the t shirt you wore to expose your chest. Greedily he took one of your nipples into his mouth, canines grazing the thin skin of it dangerously as he sucked and flicked his tongue against the hardened bud.

In a hurry he pulled back, hands fumbling with the pajama bottoms he wore in order to let his throbbing cock spring free, smacking against his lower abdomen and as he glanced up you moaned at the sight. If only you knew what an ego boost it was when he saw your eyes go wide every time, as if it were the first time all over again. The way you looked like you were practically salivating at the size of him. When your eyes flicked up through sleep heavy lashes it sent a shiver down his spine.

Sometimes he swore you were more beastial than he was.

Quickly he leaned back down to capture your lips, a searing needy kiss that was a tangle of sloppy teeth and tongues. It didn't matter, all that mattered was that you knew how badly he wanted you, needed you.

In between panting breaths you spoke and it was like an adrenaline shot to the heart.

"I love you."

"God I love you," he sighed, lining himself up with your entrance and as the head of his cock pushed in, sitting heavy inside you, his head hung down with a moan of your name.

Strong arms grabbed at your legs, pushing them up to his shoulders before he bent back down and fully slid inside you, groaning against the feeling of your walls sucking him in deeper and his knot coming to rest right up at your slick hole.

"You always take it so well," he couldn't help the words of praise, watching your breasts move as your breathing became strained against the feeling of him prodding at your cervix. He kissed the spot between your brows, smoothing the look of pained adjustment and waiting until you give a little nod of your head for him to continue.

"So good for me," he wasn't sure what had gotten into him but tonight he just felt overcome with the urge to make sure you knew just how much he loved you, loved this.

His pace was slow initially, pulling out to just the tip only to rock back into you and hit that perfect spot that made your toes curl in midair. It was heaven, feeling you cling onto him, mewling and whining while the soft squelch of your pussy filled the room. The perfect symphony to match the lust drunk feeling buzzing in his veins.

All those little sounds encouraged his hips to set a more demanding pace, making your body jostle so violently it was all you could do to just hang onto his shoulders and lock your ankles together against his lower back, just above the base of his tail.

He pushed himself up onto his forearms, seeing how glossy your eyes were and the way your lips were parted in a wail as he pounded into you with an uncharacteristic abandon. As your voice reached a fever pitch you brokenly said it again, I love you. Over and over again like it was the only tether you had in the world and suddenly all of his earlier fantasies came spilling out in between frantic presses of his lips against your jaw and throat.

"I wanna get you pregnant," he gasped and you moaned a particularly loud curse, "please sweetheart, please I wanna cum inside you" the last syllable was an unintelligible kneen from low in his throat as your heels dug into his back.

Against the cacophony of skin smacking and the wheezing of your breath as he pushed your legs harder against your chest he heard it.

"Gonna have your baby- ah!"

And that was all he needed, hips snapping against you mercilessly, teeth bared against the side of your throat. The way you squeezed around him in a stranglehold told him you were close and he could feel his balls tightening in response, preparation for release and his knot was swollen, throbbing, aching with every press against your entrance and teased with the promise of popping in snuggly against your spongy walls.

And within seconds he could feel it, one last punishing thrust before it bullied its way into your pussy, expanding and slotting itself perfectly in place while he flooded you with thick, gooey cum. Desperately he kept rocking against you, like he could fuck it deeper inside you and his fingers came back to rub loving circles over your clit, watching as your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan.

The way you felt around him in that second was the most explosively pleasurable feeling he's ever had in his life. Greedy walls massaging against his cock, squeezing his knot hard enough that it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

It was perfect, you were perfect. Your body so willing and waiting, taking his painfully thick knot so well it was like you'd done it a thousand times, rather than tonight being the first. And you were entirely his, his to pump load after load inside, his to pin down and fuck until your belly was nice and round.

Even as you remained locked together and coming down from your own orgasm his hips never stopped moving, and he licked at the saltwater tracking down your cheeks, apologizing for making you so oversensitive but surely you can tell he can't stop here. He held you and continued to mindlessly rut against you, holding you so impossibly close.

"We have to make sure it takes," he finally, brokenly, spoke as he could feel the swelling come down yet he didn't soften inside you, if anything he felt even harder as he fell back into the slow, yet firm rhythm he started with.

You cried out so high, so obscenely, clutching and pulling at his fur he couldn't help but give you a cautionary bite to the shoulder, a warning to stop twitching your hips and take what he was giving you and like a good little mate you listened.

As he moved to nip at your bottom lip it was with a million silent promises, to care for you all throughout what would come from this.

And you have to know he means it, know he'll tell you all over again in the light of day when you're so sore he'll have to carry you to the bath, when you both admire the smattering of light bruises on your thighs and hips. Because you're his mate, his love for the rest of his life.

[hitchell-mope]

And she lives another 17 fucking years.

[hertwood]

[thewideawakechronicles]

... Do you think Noah is in any state to be awake yet? Cause if so I have the perfect way to wake him up without any issues!

(Other then more mental trauma, but only a spoonful)

Not really.

[heohl-art]

I DREAMT THIS (and I HAD TO draw it and share it with the world😭✨)! Get ready to C-R-Y!

• Sleep Dearie Sleep, 1916 •

I'm ✨SO PROUD✨ of this one!😭🩷

Attention: ANGST!

World War I.

Anthony J. Crowley leaves to fight in France. After a year, he is wounded and ends up in the infirmary. There he meets the field doctor Aziraphale Fell, who heals his wounds and somehow manages to warm his heart. He falls in love with him, but he's unable to tell him anything. So, every night in the trenches - when it rains water, fire or mud - he writes letters. Letters and letters that will never arrive.

The war becomes more and more violent, as do his feelings. He steals Aziraphale's fountain pen, then his photograph from the infirmary tent. He puts it in his wallet, to keep it close to his heart.

Each day he advances on the battlefield, he vows to deliver those letters to Aziraphale's caring and gentle hands, but each time he returns, he fails to keep his oath.

One day, the last time he sees the sun touch the ground, he loses his life. In his last moments, the only thing he cares about is not letting blood stain Aziraphale's photograph.

The last thing he sees, just before drifting off to eternal sleep, is Aziraphale's smile.

Two days later, a corporal reaches the medical tent and hands Aziraphale Crowley's last item.

Crowley always thought his love was unrequited, but Aziraphale fell in love with him too, a year earlier, the first time he saw Crowley, playing with a stray kitten and a tender smile.

🩷

That's what happens when I rewatch 1917, War Horse and All Quiet on the Western Front all in one day.

(I had this dream, it was so vivid, I HAD TO put into an artwork. I have no regrets✨)

Bonus: ✨details✨

1. Crowley stole Aziraphale's fountain pen (it has his surname engraved) to write him letters.

2. He keep those letters into his wallet, close to his heart.

3.He also stole Aziraphale's photograph (it's the last thing he saw).

4. Once it's returned to him (together with the letters) Aziraphale sees behind his photo, Crowley's last promise. The one he couldn't keep.

5. Crowley always thought his love was one-sided.

6. But Aziraphale actually fell for him first, after seeing him playing with a cat, a long time before.

✨

HERE THE FULL LETTER💌✨:

Nov 2, 1916

My dear Angel,

As I sit here in the cold embrace of this ditch, the distant echoes of battle remind me of how fleeting moments are. Each day feels like a cruel gift, and yet your sight warms me against the chill. I find solace in thoughts of your gentle hards, the way they skillfully mend wounds while my heart aches for a different kind of healing.

You may never know the depth of my devotion admiration, how your laughter dances through my mind like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

In this world torn apart by war, you are a fragile thread connecting me to something beautiful.

Should fate be unkind and silence fall upon me, remember that affect friendshi love can bloom even in the darkest fields.

If I do not return today, carry with you the knowledge that you were my light amidst shadows, a truth I cherished silently but deeply.

Yours always,

Anthony

[star1ight0]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Always have a place"

TW: mentions of physical/verbal abuse

I have issue, it's okay though writing make me feel better Abt them.

Yelling it was always a non-stop screaming match in your house, your quirk allows you to absorb sound and turn it into physical energy, unfortunately for your fathers quirk was much stronger than yours and fobadde you to use it outside of school. Your house was hell between your mom and dad fighting all the time and occasionally dragging you into it it felt like internal flames.

One night got particularly bad when your dad started yelling, you stepped in to remove your mom from the situation when he raised a fist to hit her as you jumped in the way. He proceeded to derect all anger at you now. Your mom ran taking the keys urging you to leave but you refused to give him even a second to potentially hurt her. She left leaving you a bleeding bruised mess as your dad walked out the door. You couldn't stand it anymore. Through the rumbing of thunder outside you patched yourself up grabbing a duffle bag with clothes. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you didn't want to be home when he got back.

Walking in through the rain phone in hand you dialed Katsuki's number.

"the hell? Why are you calling me it's 3am on a school night?" He said in the usual gruff tone the sleep still in his voice.

"Katsu, can i-" you were cut off by Katsuki's voice louder than before "Are you outside?! What the hell, is pouring get inside before you get sick." He said even though he sounded more aggressive you could tell he was genuinely worried.

"Katsuki please just listen to me, i- " you paused feeling a wave of hesitation "I need a place to stay tonight.. please" silence. You heard slight movement from his end. "The doors unlocked my parents are sleeping but I'll tell them while you get here. Hurry up I can't have a hypothermic partner." He said hanging up the phone.

You put the phone in your pocket walking the remaining distance to his home. You knocked on the door being greeted by Mrs. Bakugou.

She was like a second mom to you so the look on her face when she was you bruised eye and cut lip/face was beyond frightening. She helped you in placing your bag on the floor calling Katsuki to start a bath for you. "Go up and take a bath dearie, I'll leave some soup upstairs in Katsuki's room for you." She spoke in a rather soft voice.

You went up towards the bathroom seeing Katsuki still warming the water. "What the fuck. I'm gonna kill that bastard." He spoke pulling you into a hug. "Don't it's - it's my fault I got in the way it's just - he was going to hurt her and i- " your voice was braking with tears and finally giving out with a sob. You shoved your face into his chest

"It's okay dummy.. you're here and safe now. I'll take care of everything okay?" He said his voice softening. "Get in the bath I'll throw a towel in the dryer for you" he said placing a kiss on your lips.

You faced away from the door using Katsuki's soap to wash up. When katsuki returns he sees a bad bruise on your side as you wince in pain trying to wash your hair. "Give me the soap" he said his hand outwards. "Kats-" you said trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Nothing I haven't seen before, just lean back and let me do this for you." You felt your face get warm at his beginning remark but let him nonetheless. Afterwards he leaves to let you get changed.

When you entered the room there was a bowl of soup next to the bed and Katsuki was putting away laundry, you walked behind him wrapping your arms around him placing your weight onto him out of exhaustion.

"Hey, you okay now?" He asked shifting so you were in front of him. "Mhm just cold" you said and he placed his hand on your head "your probably gonna be sick. You should've called me I could've gone and got you dumbass" he says but there's no anger anywhere in his voice just worry. He picked you up bridal style placing you on the bed laying next to you. "Mom's okay with you sleeping in here but if you want the bed to yourself.. too bad." He says kissing you. You snuggling into him finally letting your guard down snuggling into him "I don't.. know how long I'll need a place-" you were cut off by a kiss from Katsuki "don't act like you don't have a place here. Besides, the hag likes you so she won't mind"

The rest of the night is cuddling and a little bit of crying, but Katsuki holds you the whole time until you both fall asleep.

[thedeadthree]

THE PRIMROSE OF PEARLSPIRE — LADY ALVA AMARANTHINE (ASOIAF)

praying for love, paying in naivety.

{TEMPLATE by the dear @unholymilf ♡ | ICONS}

[softbeej]

may I request riding alastors thigh? its okay if not ^^!! no rush!!

you may!! :D also got a big praise kink-y on accident!

Sweet Dreams (Alastor x Reader)

You didn’t know what time it was when you heard feather light rapping on your bedroom door, but you could only assume it was gone midnight. Barefoot, you trudged to the door and opened it, mind still foggy with sleep. 

No one was there.

You even peeked out in the hallway, but still no one.

This could mean one of two things; either it was Angel pulling a stupid prank, or it was Alastor.

As if on cue, your radio buzzed to life.

“Are you awake, deary? Come up to the tower and pay me a visit, would you?”

Then, it turned off. You smiled to yourself. This is how Alastor had taken to communicating with you without disturbing anyone else. He’d send a shadow down to grab your attention (He couldn’t feel guilty for waking you if it wasn’t actually him, right?), then, he’d talk through the radio. It’s strangely charming you thought to yourself as you yanked on slippers and wrapped yourself up in a robe before making the short walk up to the radio tower.

He was sat lazily on a desk chair when you arrived. His blazer shrugged off and was hanging over the seat, tie loose and top button undone. It was weird seeing him like this, you had to admit, but it was endearing seeing him so relaxed and at ease. It also made you feel slightly warm and fuzzy how he was beginning to let his guard down around you. 

“Everything okay, Al?”

He turned in his chair and smiled, head resting on his hand, “Fine and dandy, dear! I haven’t seen you all day, just wanted to check in.” 

His eyes were lidded, you couldn’t tell if this was due to lust or exhaustion (though it was probably both), and his grin seemed sleepier than usual. He patted his lap, beckoning you toward him. You happily followed, dropping your robe unceremoniously on the hardwood floor leaving you in your pyjamas. You straddled his thigh facing him, and he gave you a short chaste kiss on the lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“I do wish you’d visit me more up here. I can so easily loose track of time...”

“I know, I know. I just never want to bug you if you’re busy! That’s all...”

He kissed your hand, “Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome up here. Sometimes a distraction is just what I need...”

You hadn’t noticed but his hands had travelled down to your hips, claws leaving invisible little scratches behind. He’d also slowly started gently rocking you on his thigh so slowly it hadn’t done registered until he picked the pace up. You giggled a little bit when you realized what he was doing and he just smiled up at you. 

“What? I’m just making sure you get a bit of attention! Think of it as an apology for me leaving you all day, hm?”

You gave in and melted into him, your panties getting more and more sodden with each of his words. You continued riding him as he kept teasing you.

“My, oh my. You really must of missed me, look how needy you are! Well, we’ll make sure you get taken care of, hm?”

You nod, and he started tapping his foot on the ground causing vibrations to shoot through your core. You reached for the zipper on his dress pants, but he brushed you off. “Not today, dear. Just let me take care of you, yes?”

Your hands instead moved up to his chest, half to balance you and half to just touch him. He kept bouncing you incessantly as you ground down on his thigh. You were sure his leg was soaked by now, but he honestly just seemed too tired to care. You kept letting out little mewls as you rocked back and forth, the whole time his gaze never leaving yours. 

“You really needed this, didn’t you? You look so pretty like this, like an angel.” He mused.

Your breathing hitched, “Ah... Close...”

He nodded understandingly, tightened his grip on your hips and bounced his knee slightly more violently, “You can cum, Darling. Don’t have to wait for permission... Not today, at least...”

You melt into him as you came, almost collapsing but he held you up. He helped you back to your feet and after checking that your knees definitely weren’t about to buckle, gathered your gown and draped it back over your shoulders before you both left his tower and retired back to the hotel. 

“You’re probably as tired as I am after that...”

“Sleep with me?”

Instead of insisting he slept in his own bed, he silently walked past his bedroom door and obediently followed you to yours.