#you can tell I was NOT in the mood to draw hands lol
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freebooter4ever · 6 months ago
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Alright i googled intentionally negative reviews of the book and yeah it sounds like the sexualization of the dude's youth only gets worse in even more descriptive ways so im forcing myself to quit the book here :/ honestly i didnt expect to be so triggered by the damn thing. The synopsis and 90% of the reviews online are so positive: they talk about the main female character as this empowered art gallary owner who jet sets to festivals and biennales and the pop star dude kinda tags along. It sounded exciting and fun and kinda a tables turned version of nicole and steve's jet setting romance. And i am all too aware of the hostile art world that the main character has established herself in and i was excited to revisit that.
Absolutely none of that happened. Instead it was gross and triggering and frankly just sad :( im disappointed, lol. Especially because so many of my favorite male celebrities are in or were in this kind of age gap relationship. Steve and nicole: 14 yrs? Justin and ally: 12 or 13? Rami hasnt dated anyone less than 10 years younger than him since he was like 35 or something. I remember when taylor started dating hiddles and how odd it felt because i myself felt too young for hiddles. Diego and suki were a 12 years difference or something. And yikes i still remember when norman was dating that 19 year old in his 40s (thank GOD for diane lmao). Like there is definitely a trend. It is noticable. And i absolutely do not think those relationships were absuive - they happened when the women were well established in their 20s. So, i dunno, it would have been nice to read about the ages flipped in a way that was truly a romance instead of an age and youth obsessed confidence boost for the older woman. It makes me sad.
im listening to the book version of the anne hathawa*y rom com and it is even worse, my goodness, this female main character is a self obsessed elitist snob o.O
she also extremely fetishizes the male lead's youth in the same way my abusive ex did that is grossing me out. she talks about how beautiful he is with his smooth skin over and over. they have zero things in common beyond sex. dude run away from this woman. if she is only with you because of your tight skin and quick refractory period.... RUN.
like it would be one thing to read an age difference book where it truly was a meeting of hearts and minds and falling in love... but this aint it. :( i wanted a book that gave me hope about falling in love in my 40s since i squandered my 20s (abusive idiot), and my 30s (workaholic, unemployed). instead this is just squicking me out and making me never want to touch anyone else ever again -_-
#Ideaofyou liveblog#My age and youth obsessed abusive ex made me feel that my tight skin was the only thing desirable about me#That i was too ugly for someone to fall in love with me that way#That i was borderline undatable but the fact that i was ten years younger than him meant he felt like i was the best he could do#And like in the novel he was constantly worried that he was too old for me#which mean i constantly had to reassure him that i loved him and didnt care about the age gap#Nothing i said was ever good enough#But i always got the impression that if i had been his ideal woman and much more beautiful he wouldnt have cared about the age gap#I heard from friends that after he broke up with me he started dating some beautiful brown haired girl who he became obsessed with#And my only reaction was thank god because if shes beautiful even without youth maybe he will still be nice to her and love her#For my part i have only ever been in love once#and nick and i last saw each other in 2015 i think?#And lol i was so confident in seeing him again in 2022 because he's old now he's forty he's lost all his hair#theres NO WAY im still into him if i see him again i will forget all about him#Look he broke my heart so many times i feel like i was justified in hoping to hate him#And all it took was one glimpse of him striding across the stupid lawn surrounded by tall masts of sailing ships#And i was like fuck its all still there#the magneticism the inability to keep my fucking hands off him lol that inexplicable draw of insatiable attraction#Its all there it just went dormant for a while#And when he smiled at me my stomach still flipped over with excitement because it was still him#and i was always in love with his mind in addition to his body#I remember the last time we saw each other - i would have been mid twenties? Him early thirties? Or around there#And he is normally a very athletic guy there are not many extreme sports that nick hasnt tried at least once#And he is always reticent with what is going on in his life but by his mood and the tiny hints he did drop i could tell#That he was going through a pretty dark depressive period#And when we first started dating he had been ridiculously proud of his abs#meanwhile i was like yes very nice i love that you can hold me up against a wall with zero effort now just kiss me you dumbass#i love it when i reread posts and discover tumblr cut my rant off in the tags lol
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daenysx · 4 months ago
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hiiii I’m not sure if you take nsfw requests but I was thinking about if modern aemond’s gf was too stressed that it was taking longer for her to finish and she fakes her climax, how aemond would react? If you don’t do nsfw just maybe something similar where she is so stressed but won’t communicate it and his reaction when she hides it from him?
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soft!aemond is back!! i mean kind of lol. i really hope you like this, i'm taking nsfw requests if you have any, thank you for requesting! <333 (title is from a lana del rey song, the pics aren't mine i got them from pinterest)
wc: 2.9k
modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut ♡ (also fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst?)
burning desire
aemond is in a good mood this evening.
the summer rain hits the window, you kiss your boyfriend to the sound of rain. aemond's body is a nice weight against your body. he kisses you calmly, long fingers rub the soft skin of your waist.
your head is full of things these days. you try to stop overthinking, you're unable to sleep at nights, mindlessly scrolling your phone for hours just because you can't solve any problems. there's not much to solve, not really, you only have to wait to settle down with everything that keeps your mind busy. it's not so easy, though, you're impatient, sometimes eager to doubt yourself and every little decision you made. the stress weighs down on you. you focus on aemond's lips instead.
he's been out of town for the past week. now, he's on your bed with you laying under him. he doesn't say how much he missed you but the kisses are the proof of it. he makes little sounds, doesn't stop until you are desperate for breathing. he looks at you through a hazy eye, his pretty lips swollen and pinkish.
"i missed you." you mumble. "it's hard to deal with things without you."
aemond looks at you with an unreadable expression. you think he likes what you say, he enjoys how much you want him with you. he smiles slyly, fucking attractive, he's gonna test all your patience.
he holds the back of your neck without saying anything, fingers curled in your hair to pull your head back. your entire neck is exposed, you moan when he presses his lips on your pulse point. he gives you a big kiss, the kind of kiss you could lose your mind over. he doesn't leave a mark but it's still nice. his lips draw a line on your collarbone.
"i missed you, too." he says, quietly. "pretty girl."
his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. the sound of thunderstorm is louder when you're both quiet. aemond pushes your tank top to your breasts, he kisses your belly. you push yourself against his mouth, feeling him loving on you is so nice. he plays with you until you arch your back, you look at him with widened eyes.
"please." you say. he kisses your hipbone.
"gotta tell me what you want." he says. "you know you won't get it otherwise."
his devilish smirk makes your thighs clench. you take a deep breath, your mind feels like it's full of empty bubbles. his touch is cool against your bare skin, he rubs the back of your thighs with his huge hands.
"i'm waiting." he says, gets on his knees on bed. "tell me."
you lift your hips to show what you want. "can you take it off?" you ask. you take your tank top off without asking him. his eye shines when he sees your bare chest.
"of course." he tells you, his fingers move on your shorts. "such a nice girl."
you get more and more impatient with each second. aemond takes off his shirt, your hands touch all the way on his chest to his happy trail. his hipbones are sharp against the fabric of his pants, your breathing quickens to the image of his defined muscles. you can see the outline of his half hard cock, aemond tilts his head back and groans when you touch him through his pants.
"wait." he says. "i'm not gonna last if you keep touching me like that."
you just squeeze him gently one last time. "you didn't even take your clothes off." you say cheekily. "i wanna touch you without them." you whisper.
aemond smiles. it's a perfect smile, his lips curved because of your obvious desire. he sees how hard your nipples get with chilly air of the room, your panties getting wetter as you touch him, your eyes have the look of want and something different in them. he is quick to get rid of his clothes as you wish. you don't move until he gets back on top of you, only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock.
he kisses you for a good minute. you cup his cheeks, happy to hide from the world with his long hair falling around your face. he presses himself to your center, it feels different than it used to. you don't know the reason, maybe you missed him too much, maybe your body tries to remember how his touch affects you. he's more patient than you, even though it's clear how much he needs to release.
"aemond." you mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time.
"hmm?" he sucks your jawline softly. he's so pretty, you think you'll lose your mind.
"i feel like-" you start, unable to finish any thought. your mind is too full these days. "can you please do something?"
you press yourself harder against him with the last piece of strength you could find. aemond pushes your panties aside. your cunt glints with the wetness but he still wants to prepare you. "it's okay." he reassures you. your eyes are closed, like you're trying to focus. "you just gotta be patient for me, okay?"
you nod. aemond thinks you might be the sweetest thing in his world. he pushes a finger inside you gently with his thumb on your clit. you moan silently, your body needs to relieve the tension, it keeps you awake every night. aemond moves his finger slowly, getting as many sounds from you as he can to guide himself. you part your legs for him, he settles down.
you feel like you're lost in the feelings he gives you. it's weird for a second then it's not. he pushes a second finger in, the stretch is tight but he likes it very much when you clench around him. "aemond, hmm-" you make incoherent sounds. you hold his face to kiss him as his fingers work inside you.
"do you feel good?" he asks. "is it good, baby?"
fuck, you love it so much when he calls you baby. you nod, saying yes three times. his touch is fire, you don't escape. he is hard against your leg, so hard, so bold. you moan again, your brain goes through a haze.
aemond keeps fingering you, his thumb rubs your clit with circles. the touch is nice to feel, you tilt your head back when it gets unbearable. he smiles wickedly as you keep saying his name. you look like you're lost in him.
"are you gonna come for me?" he asks with slow words against your ear. you think you will. "gonna be my nice girl and come around my fingers?"
his words feel wonderful and for a second you really believe you'll come against his hand. you try to open your eyes, aemond keeps moving his fingers quicker. you think you need to push yourself against him to make your body relax. it'll work. it always does.
but then it doesn't. your body doesn't relax, it's still too tense, too tight. you make a sound as if you're coming, aemond's eye is closed. you don't know why it happens, you feel like somethin's wrong. it's never happened before. your voice is too real to him, for a second he actually believes you orgasmed. you don't say anything.
it feels like you'll disappoint him if you say it was fake. you didn't do it on purpose and your body surprised even you, you faked an orgasm for the first time with aemond. you feel upset for a moment, his fingers get still inside you. you put your poor body on bed, quit arching your back. your mind places walls between you and your pleasure.
your boyfriend opens his eye to your tired face. he pulls his fingers, giving you a smile. he's still undeniably hard but he doesn't move, waiting for you to say something.
"what-" he begins, you reach for his hand. "are you okay?"
you think he'll be upset to find out you faked your pleasure. he definitely would understand if you tell him but you still feel tired. you feel hungry for his touch, hungry for a piece of relief. you don't know how to control your mind, how to ease off your worries and all the stress you've been carrying.
"i'm okay." you say. you squeeze his fingers.
"i don't believe it." he says, sitting on bed. "you don't look okay, did i- did i hurt you?"
you shake your head quickly. "no, of course not. i would tell you, you know it."
"then what?" he asks. he pushes his hair back. "you never look like this after you come, i'm sure of it. you should tell me if something's wrong."
you force yourself to sit next to him. your hand is still holding his. "nothing's wrong." you begin, trying to find words. "it's just-"
aemond holds your cheek in his hand. "tell me." he demands softly.
"i was sure, i was gonna finish." you say. it's the truth. "but i couldn't, not really. i mean it felt good but-"
"you didn't finish." he completes. "but you sounded like-"
"i didn't mean to fake it, i promise." you say. "i thought it would be okay, like it always is but- it didn't, but i'd never fake it with you."
aemond's face is strange, like he's embarrassed. he's thinking. is it his fault? did he fail to take care of you? did you need to fake it to finish early? he likes giving you pleasure, he likes giving what you ask of him. he knows you trust him enough to let him take care of you, and he likes it so much when you take care of him. the bond between you two is something precious, it upsets him to see you unsure and sad about it.
"i should've prepared you better." he says. "maybe you weren't ready. i was fast."
"no." you say, kissing his cheek to get closer. "it's probably because i'm too much in my head these days. it's nothing to do with you, baby, you know stress can have these kind of effects."
"what's bothering you?" aemond asks gently. "why are you so stressed?"
"i don't know." you answer honestly. "i really don't. it's too many things about the school and other stuff, and you weren't here. it's easy to get lost in problems when you're not around."
he pulls you to his lap. rain hits harder on windows. "you know- you know you can tell me anything. i'd never force you to have sex with me if you're not in the mood. if i'd known-"
"no!" you stop him. it's far from what happened and this time he gets in his head. "i wanted it so much. i still want it, aemond, i promise. i need you, i need to relax. i just don't know how to do it- how to get out of my head."
"do you still want it?" he asks, just to be sure. "do you want me to make you come?"
you nod, taking a breath to relax the tension on your shoulders. "please."
"i can talk you through it." he says, putting your body on bed under him. "if you can only focus on my voice and nothing else, i can help you relax."
"but what if i-"
"it's okay if you can't finish." he interrupts you. "don't go hard on yourself. you just gotta tell me when it does and doesn't feel good."
"okay." you say, desperate to feel his hands all over you again. it feels good to ask for his help.
"good." he says, with a deep voice. "i'll make you feel better." he promises.
your head goes back to let him kiss your neck, he kisses the same spots as he did minutes ago. you hold his hand, it doesn't take too much for him to get hard again. it's been a week since you last had sex. aemond doesn't like touching himself without you ever since you first made him come. it's addicting to feel your softness against his cock, he feels poorly when he tries to do it himself.
"i need it." you say, numbly. "please."
he holds your waist, kissing the top of your cunt softly. "trust me." he says. "don't worry."
he kisses your swollen clit. it aches with want, you want to have him so much, it hurts your head. he sucks to relieve a bit of tension. "yes." you whisper. "more, please."
he sucks for a nice minute. you part your legs, your wetness mixes with his spit. he's never been ashamed with his intentions but he feels bolder this time. pressing his cock to soft bed under him, he grunts against your cunt.
"i can't take it." you cry. "you need to do something, i feel like i'm losing my mind."
he kisses your belly. "sweetheart." he speaks softer than he ever does. "you're not losing your mind. you just need to be patient with yourself."
you feel a teardrop roll on your cheek out of pleasure. "okay." you say, pulling him back on his spot between your legs.
when he's sure you're wet enough, aemond strokes his cock. the tip of it is dark pink, so sensitive, so needy. he knows he'll feel good when he gets inside of you, he rubs himself nicely before placing himself properly against your hole.
"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. you nod, he relaxes. his back arching towards you gracefully, his cock finally getting what it wants as he pushes himself inside slowly.
you moan, tilting your head back. it's so sweet, you sound wet when he pushes a bit more. he moves his hips carefully, grunts softly when he can breathe against your chest.
"you feel so good, you know that?" he asks, almost begging. "i missed having you like this, all mine, all needy for me."
"i missed you, too." you cry out. the pleasure is blinding when he presses his fingers on your wet clit. "i missed you so much." you hug him, it's more intimate than it ever has been. rain sounds cover your little whispers, you kiss the skin beneath his ear.
"never gonna leave you again." he promises. he keeps moving, pushing himself fully inside. "never gonna leave you lost in your pretty head."
"please." you say. "please, baby, help."
you're too sweet on him, calling him baby when he's desperate to get you come. he feels himself getting closer to his peak but that's not his priority right now.
he hits your g-spot for the first time that evening and you moan loudly. he smiles, kissing your forehead. "relax." he says. "i got you."
"right there." you mumble. "so- so good."
he moves gracefully, hitting the same spot over and over again, his stamina helps him delaying his own climax. you're all spread out under him, he sucks one of your nipples when your chest gets heavy with deep breaths. he holds your hands on top of your head, fucking into you sweetly with hard motions.
"i can feel it." he says. "you're so close, right? so pretty, you should see yourself."
"close." you murmur. "i need it."
he keeps fucking you until you finally snap. your mind goes blank, it's all him. his scent overwhelmes you, surrounds you and there's nothing else. aemond targaryen is everywhere, he doesn't stop until the tightness disappears. arching your back for the last time, your wetness stains the sheets.
aemond can't keep himself any longer. "come for me." you beg. "please, come for me, i need to feel you."
who's he to deny your wishes? he comes hard, grunting, moaning your name. your thighs, your cunt, the sheets, all covered in white cum. he lets out a breath, shaken up by your cunt. "fuck." he whispers, putting his head on your chest. he's spent.
it takes a few minutes for you to get back to yourself. your fingers in his hair, his hands around you, his head on your chest. you stay like this until your mind feels like you again. you are exhausted, finally feel like you'll get a good night sleep.
"that felt pretty real to me." aemond teases when he lifts his head to see you.
"it was." you smile. "it felt so good."
aemond leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he comes back, cleans you up as good as he can. "help me, sweetheart." he says. "can you lift your hips?"
you do as he says, he leaves again. you feel good, your muscles spent for him, your head in that hazy space. you have a lovesick smile on your face when aemond comes back, wearing a clean pair of boxers.
"you'll get cold." he says, helping you wear one of his shirts and clean panties. "it's still raining."
"it's nice." you whisper. "can we sleep now?"
aemond kisses the side of your head. "yes. after you drink this."
he hands you a glass of water, you take three sips. aemond joins you under the covers, you wrap yourself around him instantly. he rubs your shoulder softly, you kiss his neck before burying yourself against him.
"thank you." you whisper. "for taking care of me."
"you think i could leave my girl alone when she needs me?" he says with a low voice. "i'm glad you never need to fake anything with me."
"i trust you." you say, finally falling asleep on him. three words aemond has barely heard before he met you. he thinks it's a nice weight to carry someone's trust. especially yours. you trust him with your body, with your mind. he kisses your head. your hand twitch against his waist in your sleep. he holds your hand through the night.
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ohimsummer · 1 year ago
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THAT’S THE WRONG NUMBER ft. TOJI FUSHIGURO
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— minors dni, female! reader, riding toji, kind of exhibitionism, reader gets called a slut, creampie, light dumbification, cuckholding, inspired by a conversation I had with my coworker lol
wc 1.1k
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Toji’s eyes jerk open, the soft ‘plap plap’ of you bouncing on his cock overcome by the shrill ring of his cellphone. The device, having obnoxiously interrupted his bliss, vibrates restlessly on the wooden side table. Toji stares at the unknown number on his screen, a brow raised in mild concern. There were only a select few people who had his number and all of them were listed in his contacts, so he really had no idea who it could be.
Your movement slows as you notice the subtle change in his mood.” Somethin’ wrong, Toji?”
He smoothes a large hand over your waist, tightens his grip and raises your body until just his tip remains inside. “You don’t worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout it, doll, keep goin’ for me.”
Humming and lowering your hips, Toji doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re engulfing his cock in your needy hole again. Your hands find purchase on his spread knees, and you watch him through the window’s reflection. A hand reaches around to squeeze your breast before massaging a nipple under his thumb. Toji pinches it between two fingers, drawing a whine from you, and then tugs at the hardened bud while the other hand tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder.
“Mm?”, Toji grunts into the speaker, obviously annoyed.
The other person hesitates for a second, before asking, “Er–, is this, uh, Y/N?”
Dark eyes bore holes into your back, and your skin tingles beneath Toji’s hard, irritated gaze. “Who’s askin’ ?”
The person, some guy, stutters over the line for a few seconds and Toji grins. “Some-someone gave me their number earlier, sorry I must’ve called the wrong one-“
“Nah, nah.,” Toji quickly corrects them. “She’s right here, lemme give her the phone.”
His words barely register in your mind before Toji’s holding the phone to your ear. You hesitate, and he warns you with a particularly harsh thrust before you’re taking the phone in a shaky grasp. “Attagirl.” he groans lowly behind you. As you slur out a half-assed greeting, you notice your boyfriend plant his feet on the floor, grip fastening on your hips as Toji stills your movements. You give him a pitiful, needy glance, one he huffs a laugh at, and Toji uses his strength to hold you steady.
“H-hey–!,” you squeak out as Toji suddenly slams into you, breath snatched away at his sudden wild and relentless pace.
You recognize the voice on the other end instantly, some weirdo who wouldn’t take no for an answer when he asked for your number, so you gave him Toji’s instead. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, both in aggravation and toe-curling pleasure from the thick drag of Toji’s cock amongst your walls. You feel every vein and every twitch, every throb of his length amidst the wet heat of your pussy, and you stuff a fist between your teeth just to smother your moans.
“Hey, what’s up?,” the guy asked. “It’s Anthony, we met in the superm…”
His voice fades away instantly, all you can focus on is the way Toji’s fat dick plunges deeper and deeper with every thrust. You balance on your toes, nails sinking into Toji’s legs just to help you stay upright. He runs a hand down the arch of your back, presses you forward just a bit and leers at the gooey, white mess built up at the base of his cock. The lewd mixture of cum, slick, and precum connecting the both of you between every thrust. Just under the sloppy sound of skin against skin, Toji can still hear that prick on the phone rambling on and on, but what he can’t hear? Those filthy cries and curses you usually make whenever he impales you on his dick. And he doesn’t like that, not one bit.
“T- Toji!,” you feebly warn as his hand trails lower, stopping to lightly twist your erected nipples before making it’s way to rub rough, messy circles on your swollen clit. “Don’t–!”
“Uhh…,” Anthony mutters awkwardly on the phone. “Is this a bad time…?”
“G-give me, ah, one min–ute!”, you force between half-muffled whines before Toji shoves himself into you once more, nudging at that spongy spot inside you and a broken sob breaks out from your lips.
“You sure?”
A quick “mhm!�� is all you can muster as your release threatens to tip over the edge. Moans and whimpers leak out around your fist still tightly wedged in your mouth, soaked with drool that also drips down your chin, and you opt to hold Toji’s phone at arm’s length.
He stands behind you, dragging your hips up with his own to continue his feverish assault on your body. Every thrust pounded into you lurches your body forward, the phone now dangling in your feeble grip. You clutch at his forearm, nails leaving behind angry, red scratches and you can’t hide the loud, ruined wails Toji drives out of you.
A bruising grasp on your hips, he leans over your back to mutter against your ear. “Ya still on the phone with that guy?” He laughs a low chuckle in your ear. “Ya want him to hear you bein’ a slut on my dick, huh? That’s why you givin’ my number out to random guys, so they can hear you on the phone gettin’ fucked up?” Your pussy clenches around him at his words.
And just to make a point, his teeth sink into the sensitive spot of your neck, and you groan so loud there’s no way Anthony didn’t hear it. You can faintly hear him still on the line, but you couldn’t possibly bring yourself to care at this point. Toji’s dick batters against the sweet spot of your pussy, and it has your brain turned to complete mush. Your legs nearly give out as your high comes crashing down on you in massive waves, and Toji holds you upright to fuck you right through it. His dick twitches inside you and you can tell he’s close. “Ugh, f-fuck,” he grunts into your neck, “Cummin’ angel–“ His thrusts grow stuttered, balls tightening and he slows to a grind against your ass as heavy loads of his release spurt deep inside you.
You drawl out one last moan as Toji eases out, leaving you with an empty sensation; you can feel his and your cum dripping out your fluttering hole and down your thighs. Arms limply falling towards the floor, the cellphone slips from your hand, luckily landing on the carpet with a soft ‘thud!’, and you whine when Toji plunges two thick fingers into your cunt to stuff his cum back inside. “You worked hard for this, didn’t you? Can’t waste it now.” And you mindlessly nod your head in agreement, much to his amusement. A loud round of pants and gasps for air fill the room, apparently loud enough for Anthony to hear as you and Toji both watch the words ‘Call Ended’ show up on the screen.
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shirefantasies · 6 months ago
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LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)
Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)
Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol
Aragorn
✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.
✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.
✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.
✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.
✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.
✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.
Legolas
✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”
✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!
✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.
✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.
✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!
✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.
Boromir
✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.
✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.
✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.
✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.
✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”
✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!
Gimli
✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."
✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!
✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.
✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!
✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!
✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"
Frodo
✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.
✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.
✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.
✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!
✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.
✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.
Sam
✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.
✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.
✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.
✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.
✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.
✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”
Merry
✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”
✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!
✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…
✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!
✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.
✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.
Pippin
✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!
✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.
✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."
✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.
✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!
✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.
Faramir
✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."
✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.
✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.
✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.
✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.
✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.
Eomer
✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.
✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.
✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.
✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.
✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!
✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.
Eowyn
✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.
✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.
✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.
✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.
✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.
✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.
Haldir
✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.
✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.
✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.
✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.
✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.
✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.
Galadriel
✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.
✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.
✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.
✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!
✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.
✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.
Arwen
✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.
✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"
✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."
✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.
✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.
✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.
Elrond
✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.
✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.
✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!
✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.
✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.
✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.
Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉
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killerpancakeburger · 7 months ago
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Breaking point (2/2)
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SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.
PAIRINGS: Soap x GN!Reader
Ghost's version (1/2) Soap's part 2. Soap's part 3.
TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Soap is tooth-rotting sweet.
WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing.
WORD COUNT: 4.3k
A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃Soap is Prince Fucking Charming (very cliché romance tropes). Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).
This bad good boy gave me a harder time than expected lol.
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After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.
The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.
Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing. 
Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.
But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.
Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be Soap fucking Mactavish. Only the most gorgeous man on base - according to you, that is.
You weren't proud of it, but you had a crush on him since you arrived, six months ago. His piercing cerulean eyes, rugged good looks and outgoing personality wouldn’t let you know peace. The mere sight of him was enough to bring a goofy smile to your face, and every conversation between the two of you left you blushing and elated.
You initially thought that this silly, juvenile infatuation would fade away soon enough. Ok, he was beautiful, and he had eyes to damn yourself for, so what? Surely with enough time and exposure, he'd feel mundane. But things didn’t go that way at all.
On top of looking stunning, he just had to be friendly. He made you feel welcome when you arrived. He made efforts to include you in conversations, asking questions to get to know you. He relieved you of the burden of small talk, appeasing your social anxiety, by happily keeping the conversation going on his own, never taking offense when you had nothing to say. He chose to spend some of his free time with you, escorting you back from the archives or dropping by your office.
He was even flirty at times. Flirty. With you.
You could have still disregarded all this; tell yourself he was like this with everyone, that it was just his personality; imagining things would only end up with you hurt in the end.
But then, during a meeting, you witnessed his sincere concern for civilian lives. His righteous anger against unjust orders, when you had fully expected a soldier to obey mindlessly.
This had been your undoing; the moment you knew you were a goner. A severe fondness for him had sunk its claws deep inside your chest and had no intent to let go. It didn’t mean you had any intention to declare your feelings though; you never entertained the thought that he could return them, therefore there was no need for any confession.
For him to be the one to have caught you in this state, it was downright humiliating. Especially since his good heart would make him feel obligated to care.
He was still wearing his leather, fingerless gloves, and some dirt lingered on the contour of his face, like he tossed his weapons and his flak jacket to the side right out of the heli bringing him back to base, and rushed here.
“Hiya hen, brought you the- Shite, what happened?”
His booming voice and cheerful tone fade away as his eyes widen with concern. He briefly freezes at the door in shock before closing the distance to your desk with great strides. You lower your eyes in shame, avoiding his gaze.
“Nothing. Nothing happened. Everything's fine.”
“No offense, bonnie, but yer not very good at lying.”
You bit your lip, forcing yourself to look at him. Staring at your own lap is only going to make you seem more suspicious.
You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.
“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”
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Crybaby.
Soap turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced.
He still remembers that one time when you showed up thirty minutes late to a meeting with the Task Force, panting, leaning on the threshold, the front of your clothes soaked in blood.
 “Sorry I’m late,” you started.
“‘Sorry’ isn’t going to cut it,” Price interrupted before laying eyes on you. “Bloody hell, what happened to you?”
You explained how Private what's-his-name bled out in the break room after carelessly reopening his stitches and you had to stop the hemorrhage with your bare hands and a bunch of paper towels while shouting yourself hoarse for help. Yet when Price ordered you to take the rest of the day off, you insisted on going on as usual, forcing their captain to make it clear that it wasn’t a mere suggestion.
You and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.
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Clinging to what's familiar, you focus on the stack of papers under his arm.
“You have the latest reports? Give it here.”
You hold out your hand expectantly. Instead of giving them to you, he sets them down on the opposite side of your desk, out of your reach.
“Paperwork can wait.”
You blink in astonishment at him.
“No it cannot…?”
You roll your eyes at his behavior and get up to seize the reports, but he snatches them from you. You can feel your composure snap like a twig.
“Johnny, what the hell?!” you yell, throwing your hands in the air.
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You could remember exactly the first time you called him Johnny, only because it had been such an embarrassment. You couldn’t get used to his alias; sure you had been warned beforehand that some of them were… original, but somehow "Soap" was the one that stood out as the most ridiculous. You briefly entertained the idea of using his first name, except that for you “John” already referred to Captain Price. Only once you tried to call him Mr Mactavish, and as a result Gaz and him guffawed so hard they almost fell off their chairs. Even Ghost let out a cough that was most definitely a concealed laugh. You were running out of options until you heard the lieutenant call him Johnny; you instantly liked it. It just… fitted him. 
From that moment on you used the nickname, but only in your mind. You didn’t have any of the liberties Ghost had and you wouldn’t take them, out of respect, and shyness. Or at least this had been the plan until you fumbled and called him that to his face. The ensuing silence felt deafening as you were realizing what you’ve just done, and you apologized immediately, mortified. 
He just laughed it off; said you could keep calling him that. True, he had appeared more surprised than irritated, but you didn’t want to take the risk of him simply being polite. This too, had been your plan, until he ruined it merily. 
Somehow he must have noticed your efforts to not slip up again because he teased you about it. 
“Not Johnny today? Did ah dae something wrong?”
You went back to “Johnny” quickly - anything to put an end to the mischievous glint in his eye and the rascally smirk on his lips aimed at you. Being the target of his undivided attention sent a pang in your chest and knots in your stomach. Those sensations weren't exactly unpleasant, but it led to an ominous feeling that this was too good to be true, and that at any second this vision would shatter to reveal the cruel reality; so you'd just grant him a timid smile to confirm he did amuse you, but then proceed to look away.
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It's the first time you’re pronouncing “Johnny” with anger; real, raw annoyance, as well as animosity, instead of the fond frustration you usually display when he messes around.
To your utter disbelief, he smiles in response to your outburst. 
“There we go, talk tae me. Even if it’s just tae scream at me.”
The remark pacifies you instantly; you lower your arms, defeated.
“I'm not gonna… I don't want to scream at you.”
You sigh and sit back, setting down your elbows on your desk to take your head between your hands, overburdened.
“The hell you want me to tell you? That my mom's on the brink of death out of nowhere? That when she's gone I'll be all alone in this world?”
You swear, aggravated, as tears sting your eyes again, and this time you ignore if you'll be capable of holding back the flood.
Nevertheless you can still hear Soap curse under his breath, Scottish accent growing thicker, before moving to get on your side of the desk, to reach you, dispensing soft-spoken, soothing words along the way. You pivot to face him, your burning eyes and the sensation of dried tears on your face making you painfully aware that you must look as pathetic as you feel.
Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him kneeling at your feet. His hands reach for your face, slowly enough to give you time to back away if you wanted to.
“A'm sorry, ah didnae mean tae mak' ye cry, a'm a bloody eejit. …Can I?”
His fingers stopped a breath away from your tear-stained cheeks. 
At that exact moment you can’t quite believe what he's about to do, yet you nod your head in agreement - not trusting your voice to not break - all the same, the gaping void in your chest aching for any kind of contact he'd be willing to provide.
His warm fingers cup your cheeks as the pad of his thumbs gently, almost reverently, wipe the underside of your eyes.
“There we go,” he cajoles, meticulously drying any wet spot on your skin.
“A'm ‘ere whether ye want tae talk or not, aye? A'm not going anywhere.”
You stare at him in silence, thunderstruck by the scene unfolding in front of you. Never in your wildest dreams you would have expected to have this man at your feet. He sets his hands down on your knees, squeezing them softly, and is looking right at you, encouraging smile and tender gaze, reassurance radiating from his expression. The position allows you to greedily take in every little detail: the white line of the scar on his chin, the breathtaking shades of blue in his eyes, the gap in his left eyebrow.
As you lose yourself into the work of art that are his features, he keeps conversing.
“We should take yer mind aff things. We could play board games in tha rec room. Or ye could let aff some steam wi’ tha punching bag in tha training room! Ah could teach ye how tae shoot on tha shooting range-”
You open your eyes wide as his suggestions turn progressively more violent.
“I have a bus to catch, and that's overlooking the fact that I haven't done anything in my last hour of work today…”
“If anyone gives you trouble, just say ah forced you.”
You chuckle at the idea.
“You'd never compel me to do anything.”
You can’t repress a loving smile. Johnny just feels that safe to you.
He smirks mischievously at that.
“Na, but they'll believe ah dragged ye intae mah evil schemes.”
He punctuates his statement by a roguish wink that wrests a laughter from you.
“You should take my bed,” he declares suddenly, serious again.
As the silence between you two stretches and your smile is replaced by a mix of shock, confusion, and worry, he realizes how this may sound. Flustered, he starts rambling to defuse the situation.
“Wait, no- steamin’ jesus - Ah didnae mean it like that! I’d take the couch in the rec room, ‘f course. Ye shouldn't go through tonight alone.” 
“Oh my god, Johnny, I could never take your bed from you. You must already sleep on the floor so often for missions…” 
“Exactly, hen. This is nothing for me. The couch is a hotel compared to that.”
You open your mouth to argue more, but then he makes an expression that can only be described as sad puppy eyes, even going as far as slightly tilting his head to the side to perfect the impression. You gulp in response, stricken straight through the heart, and knowing pertinently that you could already hardly refuse him anything, so if he begins to gaze at you like that… 
“Pretty please?” 
Oh no. Not that line.
He's now excessively batting his eyelashes at you, which, while not exactly alluring, is both comical and endearing. Hell, who are you even kidding? You’re so smitten with this blue-eyed creature, is there any act from him you wouldn’t find endearing?
“Are you… pouting?” 
“Depends. Is it working?”
You sigh, aware it's a losing battle, and look away, a futile attempt to hide the ridiculously potent effect he has on you, or to at least shield yourself from his influence, if only momentarily.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Maybe ah just wantae hear ye say aye tae me.”
Your cheeks catch fire at the suggestiveness of the words. As if the regular rasp of his voice, that felt like an exquisite caress along your spine, wasn’t already making it incredibly difficult to keep your face at a reasonnable temperature.
“You're gonna get me fired, Johnny.”
“Over my dead body,” he retorted with surprising determination, solemnly pressing a hand over his heart.
You scoff indulgently. Coming from anyone else, the hastily taken oath would be preposterous, but Soap has always proved himself trustworthy.
“Let's go. Your knees must be sore,” you mumble, trying to sound casual.
“Wanna make a joke aboot mah stamina when kneeling but ah will keep it fur next time,” he slips as he stands up, way too smugly for your own good, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything. As if you needed any more incitement into picturing him on his knees in a different context. 
You get up quickly after, but he does not get out of your way. You rise a quizzical eyebrow, his close proximity triggering alarm bells inside your head. If he remains near enough for you to feel his body heat, you’re going to get dizzy.
He simply grins.
“Want a hug?”
You blink at the unexpected question. Yes, implores your touchstarved mind. YES, cries out your sensitive, enamored heart. 
No way, rebuffs your cautious brain. It will only hurt more knowing what you  can’t have.
He opens his muscled arms, smile genuine, almost blinding, like a tacit invitation, and all your reluctance seems to evaporate with that simple gesture. Before you can linger any more on the harmful consequences this lack of restraint will eventually cause, you throw yourself into his embrace. It feels like falling and flying all at once.
Your hands close on the back of his shirt, near his shoulder blades, and, pressing your face into his shoulder to make the world disappear for a moment, you cling to him like he could rescue you from the sinking ship that was your sick mind. One of his arms close around your waist while his free hand rubs your back, leaving trails of fire in its wake, but bringing you much-appreciated comfort nonetheless.
“You're too nice to me. I feel like I'm taking advantage of your kindness.”
He remains silent a drawn-out second, and you're terrified you just screwed everything up.
“Yer givin me too much credit, lass “ he finally says. “Ah don't go ‘round base comforting every person I find.”
His tone isn’t angry, per se, but it lacks its previous joviality.
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Soap tilts his head back, biting his lips, thanking the universe that with your face laying against his chest, you can’t perceive his embarrassment.
He can’t tell you. Not yet. Not now.
He can’t tell you that he used to consider writing reports as the worst part of the job until you came along; until you awarded him a heartfelt, radiant smile when he gave you his; that he noticed how little you smiled outside of artificial ones you fabricate for work purposes; that when he manages to make you smile or laugh genuinely, it feels like a prize, that only he is privy to.
Months ago, he took the resolve to make you smile more; for a while now he started doing his reports more seriously, or even did the ones of Gaz and Ghost, just to have an excuse to see you, to behold the way your face lightens up when he brings you necessary paperwork before you even demand it.
And he certainly can’t tell you about that one time where he handed over his reports in advance, but you weren't there, so he left, heart heavy with disappointment, dragging his feet, until he heard your voice coming from the room he just left.
“What are those?” you questionned your coworker.
“Soap just dropped them.”
“But… I didn't even ask him to yet?”
Perplexity combines with glee in your voice.
“He's a good boy, isn’t he?” prompted your colleague.
You let out a fond, wistful sigh, before responding, half-joking.
“I know! Such a good boy for me.”
Getting to hear you beaming over his benevolent action was already a treat, but witnessing that compromising exchange? To be called a “good boy” by you short-circuited him. He swore - “Steamin jesus” -, ears burning, face on fire, covering it with one hand. He needed to leave badly. Seek refuge in his room, where he could be free to replay that tantalizing line on loop in his mind. “Such a good boy for me.”
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Your heart beats a bit faster than usual as you obediently follow Soap through corridors you’ve never been in before. You trust him with all your heart, but that doesn't change the fact that what you’re doing is against the rules; and those rules aren't high school's, but the ones of a military base.
You flinch hard as a familiar voice screams in your direction.
“SERGEANT MACTAVISH!”
Oops, you think. That's Captain Price, your supervisor, and he sounds pissed. You never witnessed him calling Soap by his last name before, but that being said, you never saw him deal with a kidnapped assistant either.
You've been caught red-handed. 
Your mind begins to come up with plans to lessen the punishments that are without doubt about to descend upon you two, but Johnny grabbing your hand brings you back to reality. 
You lift your gaze to him. He doesn't seem worried at all, if anything… is that a spark of delight in his eye?
He only pronounces one word.
“Run.”
So you run, carried away half by adrenaline, and half by the sergeant dragging you. Thankfully Soap is aware that there's no way you can keep up with him and his training, so he comes to a halt a minute later.
Panting hard, you double over, hands clenching your knees for support, heart thumping in your chest, blood throbbing in your ears.
“Why… are we… running…!?” you manage to exhale. “It's only… gonna make… things worse…”
By your side, he's standing fresh as a daisy, barely ruffled by your flight. The sight would be infuriating if his eyes weren't glinting with amusement and he wasn’t offering you a dazzling smile.
“Because it's fun,” he affirms like it's evident.
Little by little, you catch your breath, throwing Johnny a look that's half in earnest, half in jest.
“More fun for you than for me.”
He doesn't get flustered by your moderate reprimand.
“Is it selfish o' me tae wantae spend more time wi' ye? Didnae want us tae git interrupted yet.”
The line feels like a punch to the chest, stealing the breath you just recovered and leaving you agape.
He takes your hand again with the natural of a well earned habit.
“C'm'on, ah have more than one trick up mah sleeve.”
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You're unsure which of the views unfurling under your eyes is the most magnificent; the sunset in front of you that's painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, or the striking man by your side whose eyes could rival the most astounding sights.
Nibbling on the dinner Soap smuggled out of the cafeteria with too much ease for it to be his first time, you regularly sneak glances at him as he fills the silence with tales of his adventures - the parts that aren't top secret, at least. You two totally did not break onto the roof moments ago, no sir.
Goosebumps travel along your arms and any exposed skin as the night falls and the sun takes away the warmth with him. You furiously brush the outside of your arms for heat, and you're about to suggest finishing this inside, when a jacket lands on your shoulders.
It is still warm with his owner's bodyheat, deliciously so. You curl up and drag it closer, your face on fire. Realizing that Soap gave you his jacket without you even having to ask or complain about the cold… you’re conflicted between obsessing over this like a giggling schoolgirl, and feeling apologetic.
Once you more or less got your blushing under control, you turn to him, displaying a contrite expression.
“I don't want to take your jacket on top of your bed, Johnny.” you pout.
“A'm a bloody furnace. Wanna check?”
He asks, cheekily, even adding a wink for good measure. As if there was any more artifice needed to make you putty in his hands.
He presents you his bare arm for the taking, all golden skin, bulging muscles and a constellation of white scars.
You indulge him and lay a hand on his bicep, knowing he won't relent otherwise; that is definitly the only reason; it has absolutely nothing to do with your own desires.
Indeed, he's burning. As you envy and bask in the heat provided by his body, forgetting that your touch is lingering too long for someone who is just a coworker, he chooses that moment to flex shamelessly, showing off the impressive circumference of his muscle. You feel obligated to squeeze it in response, a way to finally meet him head-on instead of passively enduring his quips, and it feels like reinforced concrete under your fingers.
You fail to hold back your laughter at his facetious demeanor. 
“You're ridiculous.”
The comment holds no bite, a smile brimming with tenderness stretching your lips.
“I'll be the most ridiculous man on the planet if it makes you laugh.”
He's leaning back, hands propped on the ground behind him, head slightly tilted to gaze at you, and the earnestness on his face could almost make you believe his words.
Almost.
But instead a sharp pang pierces your chest, right between your lungs, at heart's level. The smile you return him in spite of yourself oscillates between content and heartbroken, before opting for the latter. 
Tomorrow you will ask him, maybe even plead; tomorrow you'll ask him to put an end to the flirting. You cannot bear it. 
But just tonight, you'll indulge it. You'll pretend to be normal, a well-adjusted human being, instead of a broken shell; you'll act like an adult for who flirting is a regular event and not the mental equivalent of a nuclear bomb.
You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off, purposely ignoring the newfound lack of understanding on Soap's face and how his mouth opened for a question.
“It's getting late,” you state, not nearly as casually as you'd like. “I'm beat!”
You're running away and you know it; but you never claimed to be brave. Really, it is the best solution for everyone involved, or at least it's how it has always seemed to be your whole life.
He escorts you to his room - of course he does. Even if he already picked up his things earlier to crash on the couch, already showed the place to you.
As you awkwardly face him on the doorstep after saying your goodbyes and your thanks, unable to look away yet incapable of making eye contact, pain flares in your torso thinking of him, somehow intertwined with joy and gratefulness for his existence. Maybe your inner struggle shows on your face because next thing you know, he cups your cheek, forcing you to look up, but as the deranged idea that he's about to kiss you manifests in a remote corner of your mind, your brain swiftly shuts off as his lips make contact with your forehead.
The touch is light yet your entire being seems gathered on that point of contact.
“G'night, bonnie,” he half-whispers, as if to make sure his words exist only for you.
He grants you one last smile, small but so sweet you feel your heart tightens.
“Good night, Johnny,” you manage to articulate before sheltering in his bedroom. The room smells like him.
The moment the door shuts behind you, you rest against it, tilting your head back, letting out a deep sigh. Morbid curiosity pushes you to glance in the adjacent bathroom's mirror, if only to see what you look after this evening. A flustered mess? A sorrowful wreck?
Catching your reflection's eye makes you grimace as you realize an incriminating detail.
You forgot to give Soap his jacket back.
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hijackalx · 7 months ago
Text
MALE BG3 COMPANIONS TEASING YOU +18
characters included: astarion, gale, wyll
FEMALE COMPANIONS
ASTARION
teases you like it’s his JOB. he likes to be able to coax reactions out of you— seeing your cheeks go red/averted gaze/fidgeting gets him excited
will even try to agitate you on purpose so he can fuck the attitude out of you later. he can be SO irritating and he knows it. acts all smug after you tell him off too because he’s already fantasizing
gives you a lot of sneaky touches in public, especially when he knows you can’t react. the type to touch you under the table while you’re with company just to watch you squirm
if he’s in a teasing mood during sex just know you’re gonna be in for a long night. will draw out EVERY TOUCH and move agonizingly slow. also laughs at you when you whine— he’s a BULLY 😫. makes you cry from frustration so he can “comfort” you after
WYLL
has a really cute way of teasing. he can’t contain his smile when he does it, you always know right away that he’s messing with you
very playful with it; he wants you to tease back. loves it if you can get a good banter going. only teases you with dirty stuff occasionally, so it REALLY flusters you when you hear it
not super into saying/doing sexual things with you in public. teases you discreetly— it’s usually minor but it’ll occupy your thoughts for the rest of the night, he literally plants a horny seed in your mind and lets it grow lol. by the time you guys are finally alone clothes are being RIPPED OFF !!!
tries to tease during sex but gives in so fast lmao. he likes when you tell him how badly you want it but he just can’t deny you 😹😹 he wants to give it to you too badly
GALE
KING of dirty talk. will say the nastiest things to you in the most poetic fashion. sometimes it’ll be so graphic it’ll make your jaw drop and he’ll just look at you like “what? 😃” BOY YOU KNOW WHAT !!!!
will tease you with magic. blowing a gust of cold air up your shirt/skirt or inappropriately touching you with mage hand and then trying to look inconspicuous after
teases you in public with zero shame as long as no one calls him out on it— and most of the time everybody is too flabbergasted to say anything LMAO. i think he tries to be discreet sometimes but just fails so badly at it. he’s probably kind of into the idea of other people knowing though
such a talkative tease in bed. likes to make you wait for him to tell you everything he wants to do to you first, but once you’ve reached a certain level of neediness he gives in. not a sadistic tease, just a playful one
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weird-is-life · 7 months ago
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hii! So I've never made a request before- but I was wondering if you could write a sunshine!reader × spencer where reader is a but dimmer(less sunshiney? Idk lol) than usual? Something sort of fluffy and comfort like if that makes sense :) I love your work sm and i saw your requests were open so- <33
Hii lovely ty for the request🥰! And thank you for loving my work, ily😭 hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, reader is a bit upset, mentions of food/drink, use of pet names(0.9k)
You come to work without your usual cheery aura. You greet everybody with a smile, but Spencer sees right through it. He can tell the difference between your real smile, and between this fake smile. I mean, he would be kind of a bad boyfriend if he couldn't differ them.
Spencer comes up to your desk, his hand immediately finds yours, "hi, sweetheart."
You look up at him, fake smile already plastered on your pretty face, "hi, Spence."
"Are you okay?" Spencer whispers, trying not to draw any attention to you.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just didn't sleep well," you respond way too quickly so Spencer knows you're lying right away.
"Really?" Spencer asks softly, trying to get the real answer.
"Yeah, I'm okay. Really." You form another fake smile on your face. But Spencer doesn't push you, he knows you'll tell him in your own time if you want to.
Spencer squeezes your shoulder lovingly, and lets you get back to work. And even though he isn't going to try, and force you to tell him what's wrong, he's not letting it go.
Spencer settles on the plan to try to cheer you up, even if just a little.
Spencer goes to grab a coffee to a little café near the Bau so he grabs a drink and some sweet pastries for you as well. He even buys you a flower, just one simple flower not a bouquet, but it's your favourite so he hopes that you'll like it.
As soon as Spencer gets back to the office he makes a beeline for you. You don't notice him coming, too focused on the papers, until the beautiful flower is right in front of your face.
"Oh," you yelp in surprise, small but genuine smile right away on your lips, "what's this?"
"This," he also puts the drink and the pastries on your table," is for you."
"For me? Why?" you ask a little confused, but Spencer already can see that your mood has been lifted even if just a bit.
"Just because," Spencer beams at you.
You raise your brows at him, "just because?" you giggle. Your giggle makes Spencer almost melt away.
"Yeah, " Spencer shrugs his shoulders. He would have bought you thousands of flowers if it meant that you would smile at him like this again. He overwhelmingly wants to kiss you, but he just can't kiss you in the middle of the office.
He decides that a little peck on your cheek wouldn't hurt. He quickly looks around, and then does it.
You cheeks go rosy, "thank you, handsome. This is really nice."
"Of course," Spencer smiles at you one more time before he leaves you be. He sits at his desk, and takes a sip of his coffee.
It's missing the very much needed sugar, even if he did ask for more sugar at the café It's still not enough. He goes straight to the small office kitchen.
You notice Spencer going there, and follow him. You can't believe how sweet Spence is. I mean, you know he's literally the sweetest person on the earth, but still it takes you by a surprise every time. It makes you love him even more everytime, too.
You swear, you were very close to crying when he brought you the flower. You haven't been feeling very well since the morning. It's just one of those days when you wake up with an upset mood, and there's no actual reason behind it. It's just this way sometimes.
You know Spencer noticed this bad mood. And of course, he's trying everything he can to make you feel better without being forceful. So you want to thank him again.
"Hi, sweetheart, need more sugar too?" Spencer notices you straight away.
"No, I just wanted to say thank you again, Spence," you say sheepishly.
"No need to say thanks again. I'm glad you like my little surprise," Spencer can't help it when you're around him, his hand immediately lands on your hip.
You try to give him a smile, but you just anxiously look at him, "I just... Y-you were right. I-I don't feel good today."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Spencer softly asks in hushed voice, his hand starts to do circles on your exposed skin where your sweater has risen.
"Can we talk about it later?" You don't feel like talking about it right now. Especially not at work. You'd rather do it later with Spencer's arms around you.
"Definitely, lovely. You can come to my apartment if you want to. We don't even have to talk, we could just put on a movie or something. Does that sound okay?" Spencer proposes unsurely, he doesn't want to make you even more sad. He wouldn't survive it for sure. He's so used to your happy smiles and cheerful mood that it's weird seeing you so sullen. He doesn't like seeing you like this at all, it breaks his heart a little.
"Sounds perfect." You look at him like you want to ask him also something else, and Spencer doesn't even need to guess to know what to do. He's seen those puppy eyes on your numerous times.
Spencer quickly wraps his arms around you, instantly whispering sweet things in your ear, "I love you, y'know that?"
"I know, love you, too," you say into his shirt, already feeling a small amount of tension leave your body.
You stay like that until you are positive that you are blushing like crazy from his compliments, and until someone else comes into the kitchen for a coffee (you don't want to be another lecture about inappropriate behaviour at work, you leave that to other people).
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aayakashii · 27 days ago
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ooh i did mean the second one, but if you have ideas about the first one i would love to hear your thoughts too~
- soulmate anon
OKAY SOULMATE ANON I HAVE YOUR HEADCANONS HERE!!!!! I used this list to write these down and while I have an explanation for some, others I went purely with the vibe but I hope you like it!!
soulmate headcanons
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Kamurai Jin
"One soulmate owns a lock and the other owns the key to that lock."
I feel like it's fitting for him to have such a traditional romantic item like a locket. A cold man whose heart can only open with a literal key that only his soulmate has – this is a thing of fairytales. He has always been the king, but he is the one who needs to be found and saved by someone who can actually burrow their way into his heart and show him the love that he so desperately yearns for.
Ishibashi Tohma
"You have this unlimited stack of sticky notes. Write whatever you want on it, and that note would magically appear somewhere in your soulmate’s line of sight during that day."
I literally just think it's adorable! He's such a busy man and it'd be so cute for his soulmate to send him random sticky notes throughout the day, showing him support and telling him they love him. He'd keep them all in a box even if there are dozens of them per day.
Lucas Errant
"You can feel a tug from wherever your soulmate is. These may either be automatic, or have stronger tugs whenever your soulmate is in distress."
Can you imagine how worried sick Luca would feel whenever he felt a tug in his heart? As soon as he finally found his soulmate, he'd give them the tightest, most relieved hug because now he can always be by their side and protect them from anything. No more tugs, no more distress. He can finally be their knight.
Fuji Kaito
"Your eyes are your soulmate’s hair color, changes when they dye it."
I chose this one for him because: it's canon that he dyes his hair. Can you imagine all the times his soulmate’s eyes have changed color as he dyed his hair? Slowly fading from yellow back into brown as his roots grow, or changing the tone of yellow if he changes the brand of hair dye and all that... What if Kaito goes through a emotional crisis and changes to a completely random color too? That could be either fun or unnerving lol
Mido Alan
"People have a tendency to experience whatever emotions their soulmate have pent up inside them."
Alan deserves someone who completely understand his emotions. Someone who knows how to place their hand on his shoulders and kiss his cheek whenever they feel a pit of anxiety grow in his chest. His soulmate would understand his emotions, even when he can't understand them himself.
Kurosagi Leo
"Everybody has some type of tablet thing that's a shared space you and your soulmate can draw on."
Leo's soulmate needs to be well acquainted with his moods and his brattiness. Communicating with each other through little doodles and words before meeting each other seems like the perfect way to get used to him. And it'd be a nice way to get at him, to say that his doodles are awful lmao
Haizono Sho
"Everyone receives a special accessory (hat, watch, necklace, bracelet, etc) that is exactly alike with their soulmate. Many people, when they meet their soulmate, like to swap theirs with the other."
Oh, Sho strikes me as someone who would love to have matching accessories with his s/o. What if his soulmate has a bandana just like his? Or maybe an earring? He'd waste no time in asking them to swap items, feeling comforted by the physical presence of something that assures him that he's loved by his soulmate.
Sagara Haru
Each person has a spirit animal that can lead you to your soulmate."
That's very simple. Since Haru takes such good care of his animals, it's only fair that one of them could lead him to his soulmate. The prompt says spirit animal, but I imagine it with a tangible animal. Little Peekaboo tugging him towards some random place out of nowhere, and Haru just following suit because he can't say no to his baby. Little does he know, he'd find a lot more than he expected.
Otonashi Towa
"A red string tied around your pinky is connected to your soulmate’s pinky (when the two of you are in a certain distance)."
What better way for Towa to find his beloved soulmate than the most cliché and run down soulmate trope of all times? I think Towa would love a cliché though. He'd love the racing heart, the butterflies in his tummy, the fireworks in his head. He would tangle himself in that red thread if he could.
Shiranami Ren
"There’s this special video game where your partner is your soulmate. You only get to meet if the two of you finish the game."
That just sounds to me like the only way Ren would be motivated enough to find his soulmate lmao maybe he'd carry them or maybe he'd be carried, but, either way, it'd ensure that there'd be less awkwardness between Ren and them. Bonding online, to him, probably comes quicker and easier, and it'd be less painful to him to transition his online relationship to a irl one.
Hoshibami Taiga
"When you meet your soulmate for the first time, you get a flashback/relive their entire lives."
I imagined this would be fitting for him, because it'd allow his soulmate to actually know and understand the things he did during his life. They could be someone he could trust to know what went on in his past when he can't remember. He'd place a lot of trust in their hands and I feel like, to Taiga, trust must be as important and rare as love.
Romeo S. Lucci
"Everyone wears a mask. You get to finally take it off when you meet the one with your identical mask, your soulmate."
I think that this man already wears a metaphorical mask every single day, always thinking of how to act in order to get what he wants, and that's what I thought of once I read this. His soulmate would be the one person with whom he could let his guard down, actually relax and be himself. The only one he wouldn't be scared of slipping through his fingers, because, well, they're his soulmate. It's a bind that goes beyond any material desire.
Shinjo Ritsu
"Have the same tics at the same time (verbal tics, drumming fingers, humming, etc)."
This one I chose because I genuinely headcanon that Ritsu is autistic lol Not only would he be able to quickly pick on the fact that his soulmate stims the same way as him, he'd probably feel extremely comforted by the fact that they wouldn't judge him for his little quirks. Even if everyone says he's annoying, he knows that the only person that matters understands him.
Kagami Subaru
"Legend says that if you fold a certain amount of paper into cranes (or anything really), you can meet your soulmate."
Our resident anxious king. I thought of him creating the habit of making a certain origami every time he felt too nervous, like a comforting stim that would keep his mind off of whatever plagued him and keep his hands busy. Maybe he knows that folding a new crane would get him closer to his soulmate, and that's why it comforts him, or maybe he doesn't know at all. Still, it is something that fits his personality, imo.
Kusanagi Haku
"If you send off a paper airplane, it shall reach (or move in the direction of) your soulmate."
I think Haku deserves something simple and that he can (mostly) control. If his soulmate never found him, he could still go check on them whenever he wanted. And if they did find him, even better! Nothing too complicated for him. He already has too many complicated things on his plate.
(Still, he would always keep an eye at the sky surrounding him, patiently waiting for a paper airplane to finally gently poke him on his nose).
Kotodama Zenji
"Songs sung by your soulmate is stuck in your head."
Can you imagine being his soulmate and having a biwa concert going on in your head at all times. Would probably make his soulmate go crazy, but could also be extremely endearing because, I mean, it's Zenji. No one can ever be mad at him. He's the sweetest (and would be 100% stoked that his soulmate would hear all his creations no matter where they were).
Edward Hart
"Everyone holds a locket with their soulmate's picture, but it can only open when certain conditions are met"
Something about an old, powerful being cradling a small locket their whole life, waiting for the day it would open, and finally feeling the rush of relief and adrenaline once the little locket opens for the first time. Or maybe having the locket open and close through multiple lifetimes as he finds his soulmate over and over again.
Mizuki Rui
"You stop aging at a certain age, until you meet your soulmate and grow old together."
I chose this one literally because I think Rui deserves to have a soulmate with whom he'll live for the rest of his life – something that's guaranteed to happen, even if it takes a while. But it's okay because he'll literally have all the time in the world until he finds the one with whom he can grow old and live happy.
Lyca Colt
"Your soulmate leaves coloured footprints only visible to you."
In this world, maybe Lyca would see colors in the same way canines do – just a spectrum of blue and green tones. But then, once he finally got close to his soulmate, their footprints would light up his world in many more colors, and he would be amazed by it no matter how many times he saw it, like someone seeing a rainbow for the first time.
Isami Yuri
"Everyone gets little books of what people think about their soulmate (but never said out loud)."
Yuri would be OBSESSED about knowing what his soulmate says about him on their book. Do they like him? Do they think he's smart and cool and powerful? Maybe he'd try to find his soulmate just to know what is written about him, but then he would be caught off guard by how he slowly stops caring about that so much – maybe the person themself is the one that actually matters.
Kirisaki Jiro
"Get the same injuries as your soulmate does."
In his case, since he's always fighting some very rough battles, I think it'd be better for his soulmate to get the same scars as his.
They'd wake up, and suddenly, there would be another marking on their chest or arms. What the hell is their soulmate doing that they get so many injuries after all? It'd be tough to miss him in a crowd. After all, who else would have star-like scars on their chest just like them? Maybe Jiro wouldn't even know about the soulmate marking since a new scar would be hard to notice. Once they explain it all to him, he'd take it in stride, like always. He may even feel an unknown pang of guilt after he finds out about it. Maybe.
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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 10 months ago
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Hii, hope u're doing ok in ur break. If the slot is till open, can i request Sir Pentious n Alastor with a dom male! reader who used to be a detective before he died?
I like the thought of Alastor being with someone who's supposed to arrest him (lol), and making him call the reader 'sir' a lot.
You Have The Right To Remain Silent... If You Can~
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Sir Pentious
You slammed the serpent onto the desk, bending him over as you slid a hand down his scaly form, gripping his surprisingly curvaceous hips.
Yanking his head back by his hood, you growled in his ear.
"Where are you hiding the weapons?"
The man gasped softly, back arching as he swallowed the lump in his throat, scaly rear almost presenting to you.
"I'll never tell!" He whined, trying to pull from your grasp, only to moan as you gripped his hood even tighter, pulling him close.
You yanked his arms back, snapped a pair of cuffs onto him.
They were cheap cuffs, stuff from a xheapo store, you sure if the man tried hard enough they'd break, yet you knew he wouldn't, the man whining softly as you leant over him.
With a sadistic smile, you gripped his face, pulling him in close.
"Tell me, and this can be easy. Ooor you could resist, and I could be very, very Hard on you~" you growled, practically grinding on him.
The man simply moaned, biting his lower lip.
"So, you think you can break me?! I'd love to see you try!" He cried triumphantly, as you leaned in, breathing heavy on his neck.
You smirked, yanking on his hood as you slammed his face into the desk.
"Oh don't worry. I'm not scared to throw the book at you." You growled, leaning in close, practically purring in his ear. "But with you, snake boy... you should be careful, cause if you keep resisting imma spank you with it."
You growled, slapping his scaly "ass", Pentious moaning lewdly as he practically pushed back in your hand.
The man all but whining as you manhandled him.
You had some back and forth, Pentious declaring he'd never reveal his secrets, you determined to 'drill' them out of him, using your 'experience' on Pentious. Putting that top notch detective experience to work.
Of course you weren't too rough. You were too experienced a detective to rough him up enough to leave marks, well, to leave bad marks, you left plenty of fun marks on the man, though even then he never minded a bit of rough play.
Having the man at your mercy was always a lovely thrill, Pentious a giddy idiot when intimate, but he was surprisingly capable at theatrics when in the mood, man a damsel at your mercy.
Well, not necessarily at your mercy, Pentious was totally in on it, the man all but eager to submit to 'your authority', putting up as much of a fight as he was expected too.
You didn't get too rough, well, not physically, as you didnt wanna leave marks, not that Pentious minded marks, he just didn't want the sort you couldn't explain off.
Pinning him to the desk, you'd hold him close, kissing and suckling his delicate neck flesh, drawing a string of moans and whines from the man, Pentious moaning loudly as you suddenly bit the snakes neck.
This was hardly the first time you'd played this role, Pentious particular to a bit of power play, especially when you so naturally knew your part.
And despite the man's craving for status and power, he relished the way you dominated him, a big goofy grin across his face as you used your once lawful abilities to hold power over others, the snake fascinated with almost supernatural power you held over him, almost as much as the hold you had on his body.
And while he'd never publicly admit it, the snake loved submitting every tume you took charge.
You treated him like any other perp, cuffing the man as you... had your fun~
Pentious loved every second of it, you always sure he enjoyed it, the snake loving it when you were in power.
This was a surprisingly big part of your relationship, the two of you having a deeply intimate connection.
Pentious relishing more then just the idea of you, but the sheer dominance you could exert, the man both loving and desperately wanting to emulate your dominant abilities.
And while the sexual aspect was always heavy, he really craved to know how to dominate, you trying to show the snake just how to be more dominant.
Yet despite your abilities and attempts, the man occasionally having bouts of success, you always held the cards in your relationship.
You'd of course teach the snake many of the skills you held.
You were a veteran detective before death, and as such you knew far more about the minds of others then many Sinners in Hell, a skill Pentious desperately wished to emulate.
Of course, when not engaging in Detective themed S&M, you had a deeply romantic relationship.
Pentious, despite himself, was desperate for intimacy. The man adoring the fact he had someone to care and attend to, and you damn well knew it.
The snake was always amazed at your deductive abilities, you able to trll much about him before he even spoke, you doing your best to teach him, too... mixed results.
But despite the regular 'Cops and Robbers' routine, you also had a deeply intimate relationship, you often spending great lengths of time with the man.
You, of course, let him keep something of an illusion of control, the man allowed to build his air fleet and egg-boi army, you keeping a watch of it all, but the man ultimately free to do as he pleased.
Of course, you barely had to assert yourself to dominate the man, Pentious immediately folding any time you so much as touched him, the Serpent relishing your touch in his life, craving your affection.
You had the snake wrapped around your fingers, Pentious loving it any time you flexed your power over him, The snake loving to puff up his ego, but the man quivering if you so much as purred in his ear.
You and your 'big bad snake' shared a deep, if lopsided, relationship, as while the man relished asserting his power and status, he adored when you asserted your power over him, two of you having a deeply adoring relationship.
Alastor
Your little back and forth with Alastor was long running, the man finding you exceptionally interesting.
You were in your 'office', the man sat in a chair as you stood over the man.
"My, Mr Detective, aren't you going to read me my rights?"
You simply smirked, yanking on his dishevelled neck tie, the man biting his lip as you stared down at the man, the Radio Demon's wrists bound behind his back.
The man who was so used to getting his way, that having the man at your whim, the man at your mercy, it was a refreshing change of pace for the man.
And if you happen to play into the roaring persona of an ABU agent eager to 'question' him with some... unorthadox interrogation tactics.
"Oh don't worry, I'll make sure you know every right and wrong you've got~"
Alastor knew this song and dance, having endured such treatment when alive, something he was sure to remind you of every time you had your little 'play sessions'.
You always eager to play into the role, playing up your persona, usually with a distinct shift, either rank or position, or his Crime.
Always making sure to play into it. Hard. Relishing your 'play time' with thr man, the dapper demon seemingly appreciating your theatrics as you pressed him into a wall. Or desk. Or the back of your car.
Or over your car.
Or on that ferris-wheel that one time.
Pressing your body to his, getting closer then any man ever had, binding his wrists with his own dress shirt as you slid your hands into his belt line.
"Looks like youll be going in for some Hard Time?"
You growling in his ear, working over his lithe form, drawing out a string of breathless moans from the man.
Alastor purred, a crackle of static as his back arched, you relishing this control, always managing to illicite a moan from the man.
The demon, despite his pride, was deeply susceptible to your detective persona, the man, in an oddly reminiscent episode enjoyed reliving his mortal years, the thrill of the back and forth. And of the Hunt~
The man was witty, and smug, as he was in life, always eager for your 'play time'. Which was iron8c since he wasnt all too partial to physical contact, yet with you he adored those 'rendezvous' always eager to elicit a rise out of you, man partial to some pain.
Though even as you slammed him against your desk, flesh pressed against flesh, the man always doing his best to keep up his smug persona, his way of encouraging you to 'put him in his place'.
You had an exceptionally smug back and forth every time, Alastor exceptionally snarky, well, until you smacked his ass, Alastor suppressing a whine as you leaning in close, biting his neck.
Now, Alastor would never admit as much, but he was very partial to a good bite on the neck, the man often whining like a doe when you sunk your teeth into the man's neck. A favour he would often return, you having more then a few bloody Tshirts due to the man.
The man would often end up as a whining, mewling mess, eyes crossing as you held the man down, turning Alastor into a moaning, whining mess, utterly submitting to you when in your office.
Of course the man would never admit as much publicly, keeping up his ever smug radio persona when in public.
But when in the privacy of your own home, he'd playfully submit, allowing you to 'take charge', you usually ending up inside of him.
One way or another.
The man, despite his pride, loved your little games of back and forths, able to experience real dominance, a breath of fresh air for such a powerful demon, the dapper demon so used to being the most powerful person in the room, he received an alien body of energy every time.
Of course, your past as a detective was always a point of teasing and prodding for the man, the man loving to work you up with idiotic questions until you'd end up snapping, said snapping usually ending with him bound to a chair, missing half his clothing, his neck utterly covered in big red bite marks.
A big dopey grin on his face with his hair all kinds'ah fucked up.
You were a constant source of entertainment, as whenever you werent 'investigating' something, i.e his body, you were usually enduring his teases and taunts, the man always happy to get a rise out of you, you quickly reminding him who was in charge.
Your favourite being to bind his wrists with his own bowtie, regularly blindfolding him before having your way with him, leaving a whole myriad of new marks and scars.
Alastor liked to pretend otherwise, but it was painfully obvious he was always eager for it, even as he moaned and squirmed, back arching as he practically begged, something he desperately tried not too do, but you always managed to squeeze it out of him, among with other things~
When not engaging in sexually deviance, the two of you had an exceptionally romantic relationship, as even as he was hesitant to show real intimacy, or well, public intimacy was mostly off the table.
Of course, you'd still manage to get something from the man, usually a simple kiss, or affectionate nuzzle, a monumental achievement for anybody. One you always celebrated in your own smug little way.
And yes, he'd never reveal the inner dynamics of your relationship, something you didn't blame him for, he was as vain as you were assertive. You still shared a loving, and disproportionately assertive, relationship, the two of you loving each other deeply, adoring each other. Usually with Alastor being bent over a desk being your favourite way to show it to each other~
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karajaynetoday · 9 months ago
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hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes
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it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.
thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖
READ PART TWO HERE
READ PART THREE HERE
word count: 2.8k
Warnings:  i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?
(This is a fem reader insert)
More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here
You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs. 
And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either. 
You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely. 
You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing. 
You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.
The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call. 
“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you. 
“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?” 
“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.
“Encouraging what, exactly?”
“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.” 
“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.
“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. 
Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session. 
“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in. 
“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.” 
“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”
“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?” 
You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans. 
You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control. 
The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.
You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out. 
You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack. 
Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx 
I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST
Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x
Xo
It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant. 
The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out. 
“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before. 
You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied. 
The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there. 
Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.
The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator. 
Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit. 
The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished. 
Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone. 
“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be. 
“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window. 
“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.
“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called). 
You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy. 
“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast. 
“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes. 
“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.
“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh. 
“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”
“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?
“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern. 
“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended. 
“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head. 
Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix. 
“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.”  Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.
“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing. 
“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. 
“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension. 
Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. 
“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten. 
You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.
 
“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.
You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.
This was safe, this was calm. This was home. 
742 notes · View notes
playerwhitecloud · 6 months ago
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Headcanons
Miss Circle – your mother.
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●Yes, this is overprotective.
●She loves you very much. (I'm serious, very much). If she were allowed to kill not only double–crossers, but also anyone who looks at you askance, she would do it. If someone really offends you, well, he's not a tenant.
●Will brag about you and your achievements. (Even minor ones.)
● You don't have a second parent. Lol.
●Will buy you as many goodies as you want. I'm serious. She will sit next to you and eat oreo's while you eat your sweets.
●She won't let you skip meals. If you decide to trade breakfast for sleep, Circle will pull you out of bed and carry you to the kitchen.
● Be sure that you will go to the same school as her.
●You will most likely be very good at math and other subjects
●Won't kill you if you get a bad grade and won't let them kill you. But you will definitely be punished. For a long time. And she will make you study even more. Until she's sure it won't happen again.
● If you and she don't have a lesson, Circle will take you to her office. You will spend all your free time on her lap while she hugs you.
●Stores EACH of your drawings that you gave her
●She puts many of them on public display.
●This bitch is 9.3 feet tall. Don't even think that you can resist her if she wants your attention. If you are in a bad mood, she will hug you and you will watch a movie. Or she will tell you funny stories about her students. She doesn't really know how to comfort, but she tries.
● Evening movie viewing is like a tradition.
●Won't let you see corpses or blood. She will hide it from you.
● She doesn't like your loser friends, drills them with a dissatisfied look, but she won't do anything to them so that you don't get upset. (Until they gets a bad grade in her lesson, of course)
● She will go home or walk with you by the hand, or she will pick you up in her arms / put you on her neck. Prefers to stay at home, but sometimes goes outside with you.
●Did I mention that she likes to carry you in her arms?
● When you get sick, she will always be there, asking if you need anything else.
● Afraid of losing you.
●If you feel eyes on you while walking with friends. This is your mother.
●It's dangerous outside, what did you want? If someone snaps at you or pushes you, that dude is dead.
●Even more control if you get hurt. Even a minor bruise or scratch.
No one asked me to, but I did it. I am very sorry if there are errors in the text. English is not my native language. But I hope someone likes it.♡
(I tried to make the reader gender neutral.)
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ethanlandryswhore · 1 year ago
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Grumps.
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Pairing: Nongf!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
Genre/Warnings: Hurt!Sad!Crying!Ethan bc i can't get ENOUGHHH, a bit of angst I think, Cursing, Ethan beingi grumpy and sad, Cuddling, LOTS of kissing.
Summary: lol u should read it.
A/N: Helllllooo everyone! Sorry for not posting in like a week. I've been weirdly sad and lonely lately so I've been kinda lacking in my writing lately. Anyways, love you all soo much and enjoy!
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You jump as the door to your dorm opens. You look up from your laid position on the couch, as Ethan walks in. m You can almost instantly tell his mood is down due to his tense look. The door slams shut as he walks in, setting his Econ textbooks and laptop on the small kitchen counter.
“Eth?" You question gently, now sitting up. You watch as he ignores you and starts looking though some draws full of junk. "Baby, what’s the matter?”
When he doesn’t answer you can only frown, now getting up fully. After searching one drawer he moves onto the next. You catch him glimpse at you slightly before saying nothing.  
“Ethan-” You scramble off the couch, jogging after him. “What happened?” You ask him softly, turning him to face you.  
“It’s nothing.” He mumbles, pulling his arm from your grasp and moving to the third cabinet. 
“Baby, talk to me...” You follow, not keen on leaving him alone.  
“It’s nothing, Y/n. Forget it.” Ethan sighs. You watch him silently, mulling over your options. 
"What are you looking for..?" You ask blinking up at him. He doesn't even answer, let alone look your way. You let out a small puff of air.
“Ethan…” You mumble, hugging him, chest pressing to his back. Your hand rubs against his stomach, head leaning against his shoulder. You can feel his harsh movements of searching slow down as you hug him. "What happened?" You say softer, kissing his back.
“It’s fine.” He replies, his voice is barely audible. "I don't want to talk about it."
“Okay." You respond finally, deciding to let it be. "I'll be in my room if you need me."
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The door opens, and your boyfriend peeks in slowly. He’s silent, just watching you for a moment before entering the bedroom. Eventually, Ethan pushes his way into your arms, waking you from your half asleep state. 
“Hi, Eth.” You mumble as he sprawls on top of you.  
He hums gently, burying his face into your neck. You smile at his warmth, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.  
“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, hand rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades.  
“No, not really…” He sighs, letting himself relax.  
“Alright, baby. but you know you can talk to me, right?” You whisper gently, placing soft kissing on his head.
“I know.” Ethan mumbles, closing his eyes as he relaxes. 
You sit in silence, rubbing your boyfriend’s back as you think how to get him to open up to you. Ethan was often sensitive and could get emotional quickly if he was pushed too far and the last thing you wanted was to pressure him into telling you.
Ethan seemed much calmer than he was when he first came home, his eyes are closed as his head rests upon your chest. His breathing is so slow, you almost think he’s asleep. Silently you turnover, Ethan mumbling gently before rolling off of you and cuddling beside you instead. 
“Are you still upset?” You ask softly.  
Ethan sits in silence for a moment before responding; “yeah…” he murmurs.
“Sit up, baby.” you reply gently, moving to sit up.  
Ethan opens his eyes, blinking at you before slowly sitting up; back resting against your dorm wall. You straddle his thighs, sitting comfortably in his lap.  
“Talk to me.” you mumble, pressing sweet kisses all over his lips as your hands cradle his cheeks.  
“It’s nothing.” Ethan pouts. He doesn’t push you away though as his hands hesitantly grab your hips to move you closer to him. You watch as his ears turn red at your movement above him.  
“You’re upset. Talk to me.” you whisper, kissing his lips once more. Ethan stays silent, red sploches of blush now faintly appearing on his cheeks. He doesn’t move, letting you press soft kisses around his face for a little longer.
You smile gently, tracing your fingers along his lips, Ethan looks up at you, puppy dog eyes now in full effect. You kiss him again, for the 100th time. "Talk to me, baby." You whisper. 
“Fine…” he crumbles, hands squeezing your hips a little. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask him, hands playing with the back of his shirt.  
“You know that test I told you about? The really important one? For econ?” Ethan says softly. You nod, already seeing where this was going.
“I failed it." He says, quietly, looking away from you. You frown at his vulnerability.
“Oh, Eth…” You sigh, running a hand through his hair at an attempt to soothe him.
“The teacher gave us the test and I knew nothing!" He exasperates, rambling suddenly. "I stayed up for hours last night, studying and going over every little detail and I couldn’t even get past the first question.” he complains, sighing afterwards.
“At least you studied though, baby. At least you tried.” You say, voice soft as you hold him, not entirely sure what to say. Ethan's head falls to your shoulder as he squeezes you tight.  
“But thats not enough, Y/n. The test was horrible- I did horrible. And I turned it in like half finished. I even asked the teacher if I could retake it but he just told me I should have been better prepared and I tried to tell him that I was but he wasn’t having it.” he vents, hands curling into your shirt. His eyes begin to tear up as his sensitivity begins to shine through.
“I'm sorry Eth." You say softly, kissing him again. "I know you studied so hard, love. I'm sorry.” You speak gently.  
Ethan pulls away, slumping back against the head board once more, blinking away tears as he looks at the ceiling. You sigh softly, hands running over his chest to try and soothe him.  
“It was just so embarrassing." He mumbles, tears now pouring down his rosy cheeks. You sit silently, watching him start to get emotional.  
“Ethan." You say gently, touching his face and lifting his eyes to look at yours. His glossy eyes meet yours shame coating them.
“I'm proud of you, okay?" You say tenderly. You wipe his tears with your thumbs before pressing a soft kiss on his lips.
"Why?" He asks, sniffling.
“Because you tried, baby. That's all that matters. You tried your best. And yeah, you didn't do well but you still made an effort. I was here with you when you studied for that test, E. I saw how much you put into it, and I'm sorry you didn't do as well as you wanted to but I'm proud of you, regardless. I'm proud because you tried. That's all that matters, my love." You say, wiping another tear from his eye and smiling gently at him.
Ethan's face crumbles gently as he sniffles again, nodding slowly at you words. “Yeah… I just- I was so ready. I really thought I was gonna do well.” 
“I know baby. I'm sorry. How about I help you study for next time?" You say brushing his curls out from his face, his tears finally drying.
Ethan smiles, widely. "You hate Econ." He laughs shaking his head before looking up at you. You roll your eyes, poking him in the cheek.
"Yeah well," You start, "I'm willing to study it for you."
Ethan smiles, leaning in for a kiss. You gladly pull him into you, feeling his arms wrap around your waist a little tighter. You feel him chuckle against your lips. “Okay.” he smiles.  
You smile back, pulling away from him. "I'll hold you to that." He murmurs, smiling up at you. You grin softly, happy to see him feeling much better.
You ruffle his curls again, "Whatever you say grumps."
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reidsaurora · 2 years ago
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"Overnight" ~ S. Reid
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Summary: When Spencer offers to clear out a drawer for Y/N in his dresser, it has him explaining some things he'd been hiding from her.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (i think? i don't remember using pronouns in this lol)
Word Count: 814 why is she so short
Content Warning: allusions to sex but nothing in detail, mild mentions of nudity i guess, this whole fic is basically aftercare lol, lmk if i missed anything!
Genre: Fluff, what else did you expect out of me?
Extra Notes: i truly meant for this to be posted on time, i'm so sorry guys
Based On the Prompt: "The Things In That Drawer" from this year's @domaystic prompts
Originally Written: 05/08/2023
Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold (i love you literally so much)
Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!
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Nothing could get Spencer Reid in a sappy mood like a night of slow, passionate sex. Something about moments like these—the way he showered you in kisses, the sweet compliments he'd give you, the love he'd show you—just felt right. Like his embrace was exactly where you needed to be.
Spencer's hand settled on the soft skin of your hip, drawing various shapes with his fingertips. Your head rested against his chest, your hand moving up to his tummy. He placed a soft kiss on your hair, the scruff of his five-o'clock shadow scratching against your forehead lightly. "I love nights like this," he told you.
You craned your head to face him, kissing his cheek. "I do too. I just hate that it always ends so quickly," you said, thinking about the work nights where you had to head home early, not quite ready for the night to end but knowing that you needed to go home for a change of clothes.
"You know," he said, pausing to flip the two of you over, his body hovering over you, "I could always clear a couple drawers out for you."
Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. You'd been hinting at the idea for a while, lamenting about needing fresh panties or complaining about missing your skincare regimen. But Spencer hadn't seemed quite ready to take that step yet, so you didn't pressure him.
"Wait, are you serious?"
He nodded, bending down to kiss you on the lips this time. "I'll even let you pick out which one you want."
You practically pushed him into the floor as you jumped up. Spencer chuckled as you ran over to the dresser, pulling his boxers back on.
You pulled out the second drawer, where you knew his tee shirts were, grabbed one of his giant ones and tossed it on. "Any of them?"
"Mhm," he hummed, walking over and settling his hands on your waist. "Whichever one you want."
You considered it, eventually deciding on the bottom drawer. "What about-"
"Wait, Y/N, don't-" he shouted, reaching out to stop your hand.
He was too late, though. You pulled open the drawer, revealing an entire drawer of nerdy memorabilia. The lightsaber was the first thing that caught your eye, followed by a sonic screwdriver, and a couple geeky Pop Figures, among other things.
"You have a lightsaber," you examined.
Spencer scratched awkwardly at his neck. "Yeah, I guess I do."
You grabbed the lightsaber from the drawer, your face lighting up as you turned it on. "You have a lightsaber!"
He chuckled as you poked him in the ribs with the lightsaber. "You're having too much fun with this."
You set the lightsaber down on top of the dresser, turning back to the drawer. Next, you pulled out the infamous Jason Voorhees mask, holding it in front of your face. "Please tell me you've scared your coworkers with this."
Spencer let out another chuckle, taking the mask from your hands. "I got Morgan with it one time. He nearly choked on his coffee."
You continued snooping through the drawers, sifting through Polaroids of Spencer and his friend Penelope at various conventions, some D.C. comics, and a couple signed posters. Your heart nearly flipped when you spotted a picture of him dressed as the Joker. "Who did your face paint?"
"You're loving this, aren't you?"
A squeal escaped your lips as you threw your arms over his shoulders. "Spence, this is adorable! Why would you hide this from me?"
He sighed, somewhere between relieved and exasperated. "I didn't want you to think I was weird. I mean, I'm a grown man and I have a collection of legos and Batman comics?"
"Spencer, I think it's cute that you have something you love so much. You don't have to be afraid to show how much you love and support it."
He bent forward to kiss you again, pulling your body flush against his. "You really mean that?"
"I mean, any man that has the balls to wear makeup like that in public is sexy in my book," you kidded.
Spencer diverted your attention back to the drawer, pointing his chin toward the dresser. "Is that really the drawer you want?"
"Does it come with all the nerdy memorabilia?" you teased, poking his chest.
"In your dreams. I spent good money on those things." He rolled his eyes, leading you to the bathroom. His hands were warm and big on your bare skin, the feeling absolutely heavenly. He placed a trail of kisses along your shoulder up to your head before hooking his chin over your shoulder.
You lifted your head to face him, kissing his jaw. "Hey, does this mean we can go as the Joker and Harley Quinn for Halloween?"
"You know what? I think that might just be something out of my dreams."
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-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose
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my-my-my · 2 months ago
Note
Hello! I haven’t figured out if your requests are still open, in that case I apologize. You write Aizen in a magnificent way and I was wondering if I can submit a request. I was thinking of “Aizen x female reader”. To be specific, Aizen having sex with Urahara’s sister? I see him as the type to do that, help😽
Thank you for your kind words! Also I LOVE your idea. It took me a fair bit to grapple with it, but I hope you like and enjoy it! I've also been an AU mood, so I hope that's ok!
I low-key hc Urahara as a little brother since he gives spoiled baby brother vibes, so reader is his older sister for this 🤭.
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NSFW: Aizen x (Slightly) Older Reader, Kisuke's out-and-about... and may have an idea of what's happening.
Word Count: 3970 words
[Click here to read on AO3.]
This is arguably one of the longest things I've written. I really ran with this idea lol.
It bothered Sosuke to no end to see his lab mate, Urahara Kisuke, clumsily complete his portion of the PowerPoint presentation that they were both presenting… one hour before their class.
Beyond the fake, thick lensed glasses, and the tight, yet polite smile, Sosuke was seething that the clown in front of him was getting a higher grade in their Applications of Chemometrics class.
“Urahara-san, I can help with your portion of the PowerPoint.” Sosuke offered, to the bewildered-looking Kisuke. His pale blonde hair was disheveled, his clothes in disarray, and the dark bags under his eyes emphasizing how haggard he looked.
Kisuke made a motion for Sosuke to stop talking, as he focused on the screen in front of him, muttering his key points under his breath.
“Have this then.” Sosuke curtly said, handing him a medium cup of coffee with some sugar. The one thing he knew Kisuke wouldn’t say no to. Kisuke immediately grabbed the drink and chugged it down quickly, surprising Sosuke at how the man didn’t flinch at the hot liquid burning his throat.
“Thanks for that, Aizen-san!” Kisuke beemed at him, as if the coffee was key to transform him into his usual, lackadaisical self. The man had a large grin on his face as he happily typed the rest of his points on to the slide deck.
Sosuke looked at him, dismayed again, by the notion that someone of Kisuke’s intellect, was still so… foolish.
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“That went well, don’t you think Aizen-san?” Kisuke laughed as he patted Sosuke on the back.
Sosuke let out a sign, “yes, it did. But it surely would’ve been better if you spent more time preparing.”
Kisuke’s laughs increased, as if he was snickering, “and where would the fun be in that?”
“You call this fun!?” Sosuke asked, exasperated.
“Anyways, why don’t you come to my family home for Golden Week? And don’t tell me you can’t because, you’re going to be studying.” Kisuke said, drawing out his sentence in a teasing tone. “We’re taking the same courses, and we don’t have any assignments due for the next few weeks.”
Sosuke glared at him, “no.” Kisuke pouted, which Sosuke hated.
“C’mon!” Kisuke whined, “I know you’re just going to hole yourself in the library.”
“I don’t want to meet the family of whoever gave rise to you.” Sosuke remarked, making his way to the chemistry labs.
“I have it on good authority, that there is only one of me, Aizen-san!” Urahara said, snickering at him. “The rest of my family, is what you would call…” Urahara tilted his head to the ceiling, thinking, “normal.”
Sosuke scoffed again, “I doubt that.”
“Then let’s have a bet! If you stay with me for Golden Week, and you don’t find my family normal, I owe you 20,000 yen.” Kisuke said, grinning as he extended his hand. Sosuke glared at him, staring at Kisuke’s open hand and the smug look on the blonde man’s face.
“You have yourself a deal.” Sosuke said, shaking Kisuke’s hand in a firm grip.
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“And welcome to my humble abode!” Urahara exclaimed spreading his arms wide at the entrance to his home. The Urahara estate was surprisingly grand in nature. Well, Sosuke wasn’t too surprised, because the careless behaviour Kisuke exhibited from time to time always came across as someone who didn’t really understand the value of money.
The garden seemed well maintained, and the house was in perfect shape, with modest decor. A complete contrast to the utter disgust and horror of Kisuke’s personal apartment near campus.
Kisuke instructed Sosuke to leave his belongings near the entrance, as “the housekeeper will put in your room.” Which again, did not surprise Sosuke that Kisuke relied on a housekeeper.
“How long have you had a housekeeper for?” Sosuke inquired, as Kisuke led them to the sitting room. There were no family photos, but beautiful pieces of artwork and paintings filling the space.
Kisuke shrugged as he explained there was always one when he grew up. Sosuke made no remarks but noted that the man had some kind of upper-class upbringing.
“Oh Ki-chan, is that you!?” Sosuke turned around, seeing you enter the room.
Kisuke gave a sheepish laugh as he waved at you. “Aizen-san, this is my sister.” As he introduced you. Sosuke bowed towards you, “thank you for having me, I’m Aizen Sosuke.”
“Oh of course! A friend of my brother is always welcome!” You beamed at him, taking note that how polite Aizen was, and quite handsome, albeit a bit nerdy looking with his glasses.
“I didn’t know you would be home” Kisuke explained, “mom said she’d be away for Golden Week. She didn’t say anything about you staying or anything.”
You laughed at his response and patted Kisuke’s hair, earning him a grumble of “I’m a grown man.”
“Midori mentioned you were coming over with a friend so I wanted to say hi.” Your head patting became slightly more forceful, “since someone doesn’t like texting me back.”
Sosuke stared at the scene in front of him, thinking of how Kisuke not only blew off his classmates and friends, but also his sibling.
“He doesn’t respond to my texts either.” Sosuke interjected with a soft laugh. “I thought he would at least have some courtesy to respond to his family.”
You sighed dramatically, letting go of Kisuke’s scalp, “See, Ki-chan? It’s normal to check-in every once in a while. Have you been to his apartment, Aizen-san?”
“Please call me, Sosuke.” Aizen politely requested, giving you a kind smile. Kisuke narrowed his eyes as he watched the scene unfold, but his expression was unreadable.
“Sure! Sosuke-kun it is. Have you been to Ki-chan’s apartment? Has he cleaned up after himself yet?” You giggled as you looked at your brother. Kisuke gave you a glare, but nothing you weren’t used to.
Sosuke shook his head, “I try to avoid it if I can. I don’t think it’s habitable for humans.” The two of you shared a laugh as Kisuke scoffed.
“Stop bothering Sosuke-kun and get out of here sis.” Kisuke said, as he tried to push you out of the room. Sosuke gave a pointed look at Kisuke at the use of his first name, but said nothing of it.
“Fine, fine! But let me make dinner for you two, it’ll be my treat!” Kisuke rolled his eyes and agreed for the both of them as you went about the rest of your day.
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Three days had passed as Sosuke stayed with Kisuke on his estate. He hated to admit it, but once Kisuke was serious about something, he was a great conversation partner. A larger part of himself also didn’t want to admit he enjoyed your company during dinner or lunch. You insisted that Kisuke eat homemade meals, and made “Ki-chan’s” favourites. Sosuke took in great pride watching Kisuke embarrass himself over your fussing. Sosuke also didn’t want to admit how attractive you were to him. It bothered him immensely to have developed an attraction so quickly to someone, let alone Kisuke’s sibling. So many things bothered Sosuke about this “vacation.” But there were only a few days left during this stay at the estate, and Sosuke was never one to quit.
Which is why he resorted to masturbating to fantasies of you during his routine showers.
As the water rained down his body, Sosuke stared at his growing erection, his thoughts still lingering of you from last night’s dinner. The way your eyes lit up as he complimented your dishes, the slight blush of your cheeks for every praise he doled out to you. Or the way you would bite your lip or pout whenever Kisuke did something that annoyed you (and Sosuke).
He slowly began to pump his cock, thinking about how you had tried to grab some ingredients from the top shelf of the pantry closet, and he held the small of your back. The soft gasp that escaped your lips and the way your eyes widened at his touch. The way your lips curved to give him a gentle smile.
Sosuke let a groan as he thought about the sound and looks you gave him, thinking of you underneath him. Groans were followed by pants before hot liquid covered his hand, that was sooner washed away by the shower.
Sosuke knew he had to get a grip. There were only a few days left and he would leave this estate and you behind.
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Walking through the estate, Sosuke couldn’t find Kisuke anywhere. In fact, it felt like no one was around, until he walked by the kitchen. Sosuke stood near the door, as he quietly watched you put away groceries, your eyes lighting up, from what he assumed over ideas on what to cook. You had music playing in the background, as you hummed and sang along. He watched you intensely as you danced around the kitchen, putting things away.
It amazed him how similar, yet dissimilar you and Kisuke were. You were thoughtful, respectful and generous. You took initiative in trying to understand Kisuke (and Sosuke’s) interests and hobbies, even if it went over your head sometimes. Yet at the same time, you and Kisuke had the same affinity for childish humour and pranks. You played along with his bizarre ideas, often encouraging him. Sometimes Sosuke felt that Kisuke was being spoiled, and that made him a bit jealous.
Just a bit, he thought to himself.
You were lost in thought and didn’t realize Sosuke was behind you until you turned around, faceplanting yourself in his chest.
“I’m so sorry Sosuke-kun! I didn’t notice you were here. I thought you went out with my brother.” You explained, brushing Sosuke’s shirt for nonexistent dust.
“It’s quite alright.” Sosuke said, with the ever so kind smile again. You couldn’t get a read off of him. He was incredibly polite and thoughtful, to the point you were surprised your brother had made such a friend. “Do you happen to know where he is?” Sosuke inquired, a puzzled look on his face.
“Sadly I don’t, and I tried texting him as well. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything to you either?” You asked, leaning your back to the counter. Sosuke shook his head, to which you sighed in response, “what am I going to do with him…”
Sosuke stood there, still with the same smile on his face. “Sosuke-kun, would you like me to make you anything in the meantime?”
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Sosuke sat in the parlour room with you as you had prepared him a pot of your favourite Western tea. You explained to him how you enjoyed “afternoon tea” lately, and the variety of sweet and savoury dishes that accompanied it. Sosuke, of course, had already known about the concept, but indulged you as you explained it to him. His eyes would soften as you looked at him with smiles and the fluttering of your voice as you shared favourite aspects for him.
“I hope my brother hasn’t been too much of a bother for you, Sosuke-kun.” You said, refilling his porcelain cup with more of your favourite tea. “Ki-chan can be peculiar about things, and he never was great at keeping friends.” You had admitted, “well there’s Yoruichi-san and Tessai-san, but he doesn’t bring them up anymore. It’s been years since I last saw them with him.”
Sosuke vaguely recalled Yoruichi, but Tessai was someone he was unfamiliar with. “I see, well we’ve been classmates for years, at differing moments of our life, but I suppose you can say that graduate school is where we got to know each other.” Sosuke explained, taking a sip of the tea.
“Really? You’ve known Ki-chan for longer? He’s never mentioned you before.” You were shocked at the revelation, but Sosuke didn’t seem bother by it.
“We went to the same elementary and high schools, but weren’t in the same classes, were in different friend groups and had different extracurriculars.” Sosuke continued on, unsure as to why he was sharing this with you.
You laughed to yourself, “extracurriculars? Ki-chan wouldn’t even bother. Our mother tried so hard to get him to do something with his time, but he had no interest in it. I’m honestly surprised he mustered up the discipline to do his PhD.” You said, swirling your teacup before taking a sip.
“He’s a brilliant man,” Sosuke admitted.
“Yes he is, but so are you, Sosuke-kun! Don’t sell yourself short.” As you gave him a big grin.
For once, Sosuke felt flustered at your response. He felt his cheeks warm and muttered a thank you. He thought he was used to praises and admiring remarks from men and women alike, but from you, it was different – it felt heartfelt and sincere.
The two of you enjoyed the rest of the afternoon in quiet conversation, from the weather outside, to childhood memories and everything in between. But still, Kisuke was nowhere to be found.
Sighing in defeat, you began to gather the tea ware to clean, but Sosuke, ever the gentleman, helped you carry some of the fine porcelain pieces back into the kitchen.
“I don’t mean to offend,” Sosuke said, calling your name, “but I’m surprised you cook and clean. Doesn’t your housekeeper do it for you?”
“Oh, Midori-san? When I was a teenager, it didn't feel right with me to have a housekeeper, so when our mother was away, I asked Midori-san to teach me things. I never saw myself living in this house forever, so I wanted to know how to cook and clean on my own.”
“Hm, so Urahara-san never bothered to learn with you it seems.” To which you laughed in response.
“Yes, I suppose so!” You smiled at him, as the two of you quietly cleaned the cups and cutlery together.  
“Sosuke-kun, do you know how to play Koi-Koi?
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Koi-Koi was a game Sosuke knew of in passing but had never actually played. You provided him a cheat sheet with all the possible pairings and explained the rules to him. His face as emotionless, but your excitement over the game was cute.
“Do people make bets with this game?” Sosuke inquired, as he inspected his hand.
“Oh, I suppose some might. Would you like to bet something, Sosuke-kun?” You asked politely.
Sosuke nodded his head, “how about we decide after we play?” He suggested, giving you again, the same kind smile. You didn’t think he was being genuine this time but wanted to play along.
“I’ve never made a bet playing koi-koi, but I also don’t play it as often as I’d like. Ki-chan hates playing it.” You said sadly.
“Why?”
“I think it’s because this game is left to chance, and he is someone who always works with plan after plan. He may have devised a strategy to secure whatever combinations with what he was dealt with, but koi-koi can be unforgiving.” You explained, as you dealt the cards for the table. “He can build the combinations he has planned out, but he will never know when I can end it for him. I think it’s for that reason, it bothers him.” You surmised, a wistful look on your face as you neatly arranged the cards for the table.
Sosuke had to agree to play for three rounds, which he learned, were also referred to as months. He inspected the cards and noticed that they were fairly faded, with the black edges fading to white. He was also surprised by how small the cards were, his hands engulfing them, while again, you looked cute holding yours.
Sosuke had drawn the better card, determining him to go first. You had offered to go “easy” on him by showing your hand and he would show his, but he explained it wasn’t necessary. “You said I was a quick learner a few days ago.” Sosuke said with a chuckle.
He played conservatively the first round, securing five points after building “Blue Ribbons,” which allowed him to go first again for the second round. Confident with the rules of the game, Sosuke could see what possible combinations he could make with his hand, and repeated “koi-koi” as he built his growing point pile.
Then you had to ruin it. You made a measly junk pile, worth one point and refused to call koi, ending the round.
All the points Sosuke had built, the Rainy Four Lights, Red Poetry Ribbons and both Moon and Cherry Blossom Viewing… all gone.
Sosuke furrowed his eyebrows and exhaled. His eye twitching at how quickly it came apart, remembering your words about Kisuke’s disdain for the game, “but koi-koi can be unforgiving.”
You gave the same wistful smile at him and prepared for the final round. Since you had won the second round, you went first. Cards were taken, others were put on to the table. Sosuke felt vindictive as he saw you growing “Boar Deer Butterfly” in your pile along with “Three Lights.”
Yes, koi-koi was unforgiving. As if to punish you for ending the round with one point, he had built “Red Poetry Ribbons” again and snagged the Butterfly you needed for your own pile, “I end the round.” Sosuke said with a smirk.
“You really are a fast learner, Sosuke-kun!” You smiled at him as you began to pack the cards away. But as soon as your hand reached out to grab his pile, Sosuke caught your wrist, catching you off guard.
“Since I win, I know what I want.” Sosuke said, staring right at you. It was the first time you gave a good look at his face, noticing how sharp and intense his eyes were beyond the lenses. It startled you, but you again, played along, curious to see where this would go.
“And what is that Sosuke-kun?” You politely asked, relaxing your hand in his grip, leaning closer to him over the table.
Without saying a word, Sosuke pulled you in for a kiss, sealing the distance between you two. Your eyes were wide open, shocked over what was happening… but you didn’t mind it. You gently pulled him away and watched him take off his glasses, both of you breathing heavy.
Nothing was said between you, just stares and heavy panting, with Sosuke’s grip on your wrist still ever present. Closing your eyes, you took an inhale, knowing you two were going to cross a line (what line? A small part of you wondered.)
“Maybe we should stop, Sosuke-kun.” You said, regretting each word escaping your mouth. “Kisuke won’t like this.”
“I don’t care what he thinks.” Sosuke said in a pointed tone, his eyes narrowing in anger, “the man plays by his own rules. I think it’s time we play our own.” You were transfixed by his voice, nodding and agreeing with what he was saying. “Let’s finish this elsewhere, Sosuke-kun.” You murmured, pulling him away from his seat. The grip on your wrist tightened as he led you to the guest bedroom.
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Clothes were strewn about in Sosuke’s bedroom, as he pulled you against him for more kisses. Sosuke hated how needy he felt, but wanted more of your kisses, more of your attention on him. He held your face in his hands as he peppered kisses across your face, paying special attention to your lips.
He pushed you on to the bed, and continued down your body, nipping across your neck and chest. The greediness he felt grew the more he touched your body, leaving him with the urge to mark you. Harsh bites and sucks across your neck and chest, surely strong enough to bruise later, but you welcomed you. Curiosity and excitement grew in you to see Sosuke go further.
Sosuke parted your bare legs and dipped between them, as he immediately lapped at your wet pussy. He took care to with gentle licks to your clit, then pushed one finger inside you. You moaned loudly, without a care as to who would be able to hear it. You chanted Sosuke’s name, praising him with how good he made you feel.
Your orgasm was approaching, and you had a feeling Sosuke knew that too, with the way he began to pump his fingers faster inside you and the licks to your clit growing more intense. Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm crash around you, a loud scream piercing the room.
Sosuke dropped your legs and pushed his hand through his hair, a lone strand in front of his face. He watched you with a satisfied smirk as you tried to regain your strength. You were shaking trying to sit up, and he watched you with glee.
His cock was hard and erect, with precum dripping down the tip. He gave himself a pump as he watched you struggle to get up. Once you managed to do so, you leaned towards his cock, pushing his hand away.
His cock was thick in your mouth, but you wanted to reward him with the same pleasure you felt. Wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, you began to suckle on his tip as you pumped the base of his shaft. Sosuke threaded his fingeres in your hair, pushing you down further along his cock. He groaned your name as you swallowed his cock whole.
You bobbed your head up and down, keeping the pace as you savoured the precum escaping from Sosuke’s cock.
Until you heard the familiar, sing-song voice of your brother. You tried to pull away, but Sosuke gripped your hair tighter, forcing his cock in your mouth.
You could hear Kisuke’s footsteps coming closer, and then a sudden knock. “Aizen-san, are you there? Do you know where my sister is?”
You looked up at Sosuke, eyes widen while your mouth was filled with his cock. He grinned menacingly at you, shoving your head further towards his crotch. “No, I haven’t. I didn’t see her at all today.”
“Oh…” Kisuke said, “Can I come in? I have some exciting news to share.” He said in a sing-song voice.
“I’m about to take a shower.” Sosuke said, his voice even as if he wasn’t throat fucking you, “I’ll meet you at your parlour room.”
Kisuke made an appreciative sound and went away, with Sosuke letting go of the grip on your hair. Your hair was a mess, with drool and cum dripping down your mouth on to your body, your lips swollen from Sosuke’s kisses and from sucking him off.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Sosuke said, pushing you back down, “but we can make up for it later.”
You gave him a kiss as a sign of agreement, as he spread your legs apart again. He pushed the tip of his cock into your wet pussy. The slopping noises echoed in your ears.
Sosuke put a hand over your mouth as soon as he saw you moan. He slowly pushed himself in and out of you, your eyes rolling at the sensation of him repeatedly filling you up. Soon his pace quickened, and from your earlier blowjob, Sosuke knew he wasn’t going to last long. He pushed himself down against you and kissed you deeply as his thrusts became erratic. Then, without warning, and your own orgasm approaching, he pulled out his cock and came all over your pussy, rubbing his tip along your clit, earning him a small shriek from you.
You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t bask in the moment with Sosuke, so you quickly gathered your clothes and slowly opened the door, peering down the hallway to ensure no one was around. But before you could leave, Sosuke’s strong arms were wrapped around your waist, as he nuzzled your ear.
“Let’s continue this later tonight.” You turned around, giving him a quick peck on the lips, “I’ll be waiting, Sosuke-kun.”
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Thanks for reading!! I had a lot of fun writing this 😅.
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thebearer · 1 year ago
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nsfw alphabet with carmen berzatto
please minors dni 18+. smut ahead ;) enjoy!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
in the beginning, carmen was so bad at aftercare. he was a clinger and a cuddler, a little self conscious one too, but he didn't know after care was a thing really??? like would wipe you off and cuddle you, but when you started doing more intense or harsher things, you had to tell him "hey can you do a little more lol?" now, he's more thorough with a complete check afterwards. bath if you need one, food (ofc) or something to drink, more vocal too with praises and making sure you're not in a drop or shock, and still a clinger afterwards too lol.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
his- his hands. he needs them to work and they're good at that apparently. good at drawing, and smoking, and holding your hand. good at smacking your ass until you cry or pulling on your hair. good at wiping your tears, holding your face in his palms, watching you suck on his fingers. watching them disappear in and out of your pussy, your arousal dripping down his wrist. he's just... he does a lot with his hands lol.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
carmen is filthy with cum. maybe it's a territorial type thing, something primal inside of him, but he will paint you with his cum. your tummy, your tits, not so much your face bc you don't like it. inside of you is his favorite, esp when he makes you keep it in there after fucking you in the office or at a dinner party in the bathroom, you have to go out and pretend like nothing happened- dripping him down your leg the entire time.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he's kinda into voyeurism??? a little bit lol. not actually in front of someone, he's too shy and possessive for that, but will finger you under the table at family dinners. likes it when you jack him off in public. having sex somewhere you might get caught, or where someone might find you or hear you. he always fucks you harder when someone might be around, lives for it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he's not super experienced by any means, but seasoned enough to know what he's doing. probably a body count of three or four before you maybe. there's still a lot of things that are new to him (esp the kinkier things the two of you get into) but he's got the basics covered.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
the hook or the shoulder holder. anything where your legs are over his shoulders, preferably thighs to your chest and he's plowing the fuck outta you. makes you go numb and he loves when your thighs squeeze around his neck, nearly makes him pass out. he can go so deep and it feels so close for the both of you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
depends on the mood. if he's being daddy carm, then he's very serious. if it's just you two fucking around or having sweet, sappy sex, then he can be a little more silly.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
trimmed but a little on the wilder side. got a bush and a happy trail that you love. when you first started dating, he would try to trim it all the way, and you had to tell him you loved it. so now he keeps it. wild curly pubes that match his hair when it grows super long. you love it when he'll let it go full bush so you can just bury your face in it lol.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
very romantic and lovey always. even after he's been a little mean to you, he is always quick to be sweet. very much so the type to say "i love you" every time in missionary... and every other position, but he's just sappy lol.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
used to jack off more when he was single and busy. less when mikey died and he took over the beef bc he was stressed to the max. now, he doesn't really ever jack off. you two fuck enough he doesn't have to, and he really doesn't have time lol.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
he's a total soft daddy dom, which might come as a shock. a little bit of a brat tamer. nothing he loves more than putting you in your place. a big fan of "fucking the fussy out out you" and embarrassing you a little. ofc it's never severe bc carmen would have dom drop like a mf, but spanking you and then making you come out to family and sitting on your stinging ass, trying to pretend like it's nothing? gets him hard all over again.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
bedroom or kitchen. depends on how you're playing and fucking, or really what he needs. he'll bend you over the kitchen counter and have you there all night, but in the bedroom, he'll take his time with you.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
you. just you. the knowledge that you like him and think he's attractive and are willing to have sex with hi. sometimes when you're bratty and a little mean, it wakes up his daddy side and gets him going to tame you, but really your existence.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
anything super intense that would leave a lasting mark or scar. super degrading, either way, he doesn't want to make fun of you or be too mean (outside of calling you a brat and impatient), certainly doesn't want yo to say it to him.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he's a chef. he likes to taste his food. loves giving you head. unbelievably good at it.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
depends on the mood. usually he'll pound you out kinda slow but enough to leave you shaky, but really depends in the vibe.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
king of quickies. in the morning before work, if you come to visit him at work, sneaking home on a lunch break, before going to a friend's house, in the car. anywhere. he just doesn't have the time all the time so quickies make it easier.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
he's probably like sixty/ forty on risks. yes, he'll fuck you in the dressing room while you're trying on bikinis, but no, he won't spank you with a rolling pin are you out of your mind?
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
depends on how tired he is. usually two, but if he's super amped up, can go as many as you need. can go all night if he has to.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
sorta toys? has a paddle (you bought him) for when you're really bad. the wooden spoon and spatula he uses for spanking you. you had a vibrator that he'll tease you with sometimes. and he bought you a few plugs when you were anal training and bc sometimes you're a brat and he plugs you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
teasing king. endless teasing until your teary eyed and pouting and furious. the more you're on the edge, the more he likes it. likes to get you to that point you're nearly brain dead with pleasure, then will finally give in because nothing it better than watching you come undone.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
he's gotten better. used to be a few muffled whines and grunts that he was embarrassed of. now he dirty talks a lot. likes to kinda grunt-moan when he's fucking you, and sometimes you'll get lucky and he'll whimper right in your ear before he cums!!!
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
big fan of mirror sex. likes holding you by your jaw while he fucks you roughly, making you watch yourself come undone, all while he grunts and hisses things in your ear. "look at you, fuck. this is what i see every time. get to see you- see you like this. lookin' all pretty and fucked out."
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
he's def thicker than mosts. thick and veiny- like his build. uncut (that won the poll) and i feel he'd be around seven or eight inches. enough to have you gawking and like... holy shit. he thinks it's not very big or impressive and you reassure him otherwise lol.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
pretty insatiable. esp if he's well rested and not stressed, but even on those days, he just wants to fuck lol.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he's a cuddler and he'll pillow talk for a little bit then he's out lol. to quote nicki, pussy put his ass to sleep. and it is a deep sleep every time lol.
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vitaminseetarot · 6 months ago
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PAC: What Hobby Should You Begin Next? 🎨🛶📯
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Sup y'all, it's time for a new pick a card reading (this one's especially for you night owls out there as I'm posting this at midnight lol). Ideally, I'd like to post one PAC every week after this but eh, lettuce see about that. 🥬👀
This pick a card was inspired by the remaining energies of late Taurus season. The grass is bright, the air is warm, the flowers are blooming, and it's brought out the artist in me. While I've been finishing a leisure painting, I stopped to draw out some cards to help out anyone who's in the mood to do something fun in their spare time but could use some direction or guidance.
Pick any one of the four Prism Oracle cards below, or its corresponding crystal/emoji, to see what hobby you could explore next, or if there is a hobby you enjoy that is calling for your attention:
Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙 Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊 Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉 Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭
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Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙
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77 Beginnings, Sound+Resonance+Frequency, The Musician, Capricorn Rising - Aspire; Page of Swords, Page of Wands, 9 of Cups, Knight of Swords, XI Justice
Wow, pile 1, I think you have the most obvious answer of all four piles. You're very drawn to pursuing something musical. It could be in a variety of ways. You might try singing, writing a song, playing an instrument, learning to dance, or perform in musical theater (the purple curtain in the Justice card definitely brings theater to mind). You could enjoy collecting vinyl records, or producing music through special programs and apps. You may desire to publish your music online, or dream of going big on stage and signing major contracts with labels. Two Pages tells me you're most likely into more than one thing, as plenty of musical artists can multitask.
Your pile was the only one to get two Prism cards at first as Anxiety initially wanted to pop out. It's also clear that with two Pages and the Beginnings card, you're very new at this hobby. There's an over awareness of this fact, that on some level you may not know where to even start. There's some doubt I sense that you feel you can't be at the level you wish to stand on. Capricorn energy wants to reach for the very top of the ladder in accomplishment; it is a steady energy although not intent on settling. I get that there are many people here who greatly look up to an artist and wish to have their same talents. Try to look past the smoke and mirrors of all the top 40's singers and know that music is way more accessible than it's made to look.
Try embracing the newness of this pursuit, pile 1. It's okay to be a little lost, or feel that there's a long way to go. The only way to go pro is to start small and grow. There are a lot of free resources online for learning music (try out musictheory.net for free lessons) and free vocal technique lessons on Youtube. Some people are very lucky to have the chance to start learning at a young age, but if we were to set a rule stating that only those who did so could play, that would leave a lot of creative geniuses and successful musicians out of the frame. If you're learning to play the keyboard, practice one song or even one note at a time (doesn't have to be Chopsticks, lol). Consistency is key.
When the inspiration and joy to explore music finally strikes you, take the time to really dive in and make something small. If you're trying to write a song, start with a jingle. If it's music theory you want to go over, start with just 1 lesson and see how it feels. If you're learning to dance, begin with warm ups and slow music before working on the more intense songs. Are you looking for writing inspiration? Keep plenty of notes on hand and learn how to identify music so you can easily write a melody down (there are empty music notebooks for this). If this is something you would like to do in the long term, then continue to practice with that perspective by not overdoing it to compensate for "lost time". You are exactly where you need to be on your creative journey.
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Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊
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66 The Selves, You Belong Here, The Wise One, Cancer Moon - Intuit; X Wheel of Fortune, Sagittarius ♐, VI The Lovers, 9 of Pentacles, XVI The Tower
What's going on, pile 2? With the Selves card above Sagittarius, I'm getting that a lot of you may be interested in pursuing theater or comedy, whether that's stand up or it's simply channeled through the projects you create. Your next hobby may involve incorporating a lot of humor into what you do. This pile is the most multifaceted of the four, with many differing hobbies, so I'm going to list a variety of different talents, but what binds them all together is the need to express one's own (very) strong opinions for the world to see.
You may want to be a photographer who documents unusual things, or write something that makes a powerful statement. There's a need here to let go of any of the anxieties that come with expressing your authentic self, because while those feelings are natural, listening to them too much will dampen your creative drive. This is the group that wants to make very surreal graffiti art or provocative dance routines. With the Tower card, here, I feel there's a need for the shock and awe to get your inspiration buzzing. On the gentler side, I can see some of you getting into something nature based like flower printing and permaculture but the caveat is that it's a reflection of your genuine self and beliefs in some way. With Wheel of Fortune, some of you may feel an urge to learn about tarot or pendulum reading, as these things are typically categorized as "unusual".
You may also get into traveling to stay involved in your hobby, or it requires roving about in some way. To break down creative blocks, it might help to actually move yourself to a different location. It doesn't necessarily involve moving to a whole new place, it could just refer to another part of your home or you may benefit from walking or dancing to decompress. I feel that moving your body will stimulate your creative ideas to flow through. A small number of you may have considered trying out extreme sports like free climbing or parkour. I don't really need to mention that these can be incredibly dangerous, so some of you may like something similar like skateboarding or gymnastics as well. It doesn't have to be intense, just active.
With the Lovers, there also exists a social aspect to your hobby. You may be drawn to share you hobby with a friend or with partners. It will greatly help you to be in an environment that supports your avant-garde tastes and not settle for less. It's not always easy to put shocking art with profound messages out there for the world to make sense of it, though some make it seem that way. It's easy to pretend that negative feedback doesn't get to you, but only accept constructive criticism as that will feed you more than shocked reactions. You cannot afford to have others in your life discourage you, as your skill sets require a lot of space for growth. Nourish relationships that want to celebrate your talents with you. Find a community that loves what you love, and wants to see you happy with what you do. Embrace the wild side of your artistic abilities.
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Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉
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54 Security, the Messenger, The Aspirant, Aries Sun - Assert; 2 of Pentacles, Knight of Wands, 0 The Fool, Aquarius ♒, Virgo ♍
Hello, pile 3. With the 2 of Pentacles, many of you may want to explore a hobby that is both online and offline, or the internet and social media are major components. If you like making artwork, you could be into digital art or simply want to upload images of your offline work for others to see. With Virgo, some of you may have a lot to say, by starting a blog or online journal documenting your life or interests, or you could try out freelance editing. If you were a youtuber, you could be really good at creating epically long videos about niche topics, or short videos explaining how to do a certain task (like tiktoks that showcase a person's routines and what cleaning products they recommend).
I see that this is the pile of innovation, as the Creativity card shows a lightbulb. You could have various ideas pop up in your head, only to feel unsure of how to approach them. Your attention span could split into a variety of different mediums for getting the idea out. Aquarius wants to take its genius energy and spread it around the world. For a lot of you, social media will support your ideas by broadcasting them. Your hobby may directly involve interfacing with others; your creative spark is not for hiding away. Web design, for example, is a hobby but it involves creating something that others will directly interact with. Your work is meant for a wide audience, should you choose to put yourself out there.
This may not always be easy for you, since there could be a pull towards more stable and predictable activities. There's a nervousness here, kind of like imposter syndrome. You may get a really cool idea for a mobile game app before you or someone else goes "but that's an unrealistic goal to spend so much time and effort on", followed by, "how could I ever make something like that?" The thing is, you can be the most talented, skilled, and experienced person when it comes to a subject, yet still have these same worries. Imposter syndrome doesn't magically go away with a college degree, a new job, or 10,000 subscribers. It's completely normal, but make sure to not let your doubts tempt you into doing something more boring and unfulfilling. This is the pile most likely to try a totally new hobby that is unrelated to your other skills, it doesn't have to be realistic.
But also understand that it can take time for something to get really good. Your first fiction draft is gonna turn out clunky, or your app could be filled with bugs, but it's part of the process. There's no perfect time; when you get the urge to try, just try it! Reach out to a local community or chat group so you can get a realistic sense of how long it takes for projects and skills develop. Slam poetry may be a great outlet, so if you'd like to do that, attend an open mic and see how others do it. You are allowed to be imperfect with your hobby--if you wish to evolve your craft, remember the passion and curiosity that brought you to it.
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Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭
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57 Spiritual Guide, What Goes Around Comes Around, The Astronomer, Taurus Rising - Enjoy; 9 of Pentacles, Cancer ♋, Queen of Swords, Knight of Wands, Knight of Swords
How's it going, pile 4? So this is the most active and possibly athletic pile we have here. Staying in the house is not gonna work because something is itching you to get out underneath the stars. Could some of you be majoring or planning in major in STEM? I'm getting a lot of natural science here. With the Astronomer card, you could want to use your telescope to go stargazing or visit planetariums. Are you still feeling the buzz from all the aurora storm and eclipse hype? It would not surprise me if these events awoke an interest for you and now you're looking up when the next meteor shower will show up or when Saturn will be most visible in the sky.
Your next hobby needs or is the outdoors on some level. But Cancer energy is that of a homebody. The most laidback people in this group may enjoy relaxing hobbies like birdwatching or gardening. These hobbies could be spiritually fulfilling for you. I'm seeing someone wearing an apron outside, so could some of you be interested in grilling or being the host to a fun party in the backyard. Do people even have book club meetings in gardens? A lot of enjoying nature is simply finding a good spot and soaking in the scenery with no other goal in mind. Just being near trees and beach sides might be enough.
But I see a lot of you mainly wish to have an adventure and go far out in nature when the weather's just right. You could be thinking about hiking or backpacking out on trails. It all depends on your comfort level as we all have different tolerance levels. I don't know if geocaching and pokemon go are still popular, but they can be unique ways to engage with the outdoors. You could try guided nature tours presented by nature conservationists like the National Audubon, where you can identify and take photos of animals as you wander through the woods and plains. You may like a hobby that is seasonally specific, like swimming in warm waters or skiing down a snowy mountain.
Your hobby may have you think deeply about how humans connect with nature, exploring the ecosystem and how our actions influence our environment. Climate change can be a very serious and, for some, directly impactful topic to mull over. Remind yourself that as long as you're respectful (leave no trace), mother nature enjoys your company as much as you do for her. A small few of you may have the urge to travel to weird locations. Two knights in your reading suggest boldness. If you decide to visit an abandoned or haunted place, Queen of Swords says to please be careful and follow rules if it says no trespassing, and remember that abandoned places can be dangerous from faulty wiring and unstable flooring. Overall, I feel this pile just can't do with an indoor hobby. You have the motivation and courage to explore the vast beautiful world out there. It awaits you.
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