#i wrote it while fully awake and raring to go
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A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.
Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, there are fireworks. Sort of.
(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 2,767. Rating: all audiences.)
Chapter 22: Hardly Working
The Inquisition’s red lyrium sample was kept far, far below.
Far below the Undercroft, where Trevelyan and Dagna prepared for their descent. Far below the dungeons, where two guards escorted them further down. Far below the sounds of people and life. Far, far below.
Door after door barred their path, each more fortified than the last. The keys were old and rusted, having existed much longer than the castle’s current occupants. Passages beyond were long and winding. One was not supposed to know the way. The stone of the stairs they descended appeared as if new. Few feet had ever trespassed here.
Trevelyan could not help but wonder for what this place had originally been built to contain.
Lower still they went. The darkness that had settled upon these steps was cast aside by the light of a torch, held aloft in the hand of one of their guides. Trevelyan felt its warmth in the air, and glanced nervously at the small chest Dagna carried. Their device lay inside—insulated, inert. But it was still within Trevelyan to worry.
The long stairwell curved, the end at last coming into sight, a chamber door revealed. Daylight—somehow, daylight—poured through its barred window, casting a slotted shadow upon the floor. Had they come so far as to breach the bottom of the mountain?
“Here we are,” said a guard, producing the largest, oldest, and most complex key yet. “Be careful, Arcanist; your Ladyship.”
He opened the door. Breath escaped Trevelyan’s body.
The cavern beyond was thrice the size of the Undercroft, in both height and depth. And like the Undercroft, it, too, had a maw: a narrow fissure running high across the back wall, like the slash of a gigas claw, through which light spilled in its gallons.
This, however, was not the central feature of the space. Indeed, it was only there to light the central feature of the space. For in this chamber, suspended by the strength of three large chains, was a small stone chest. Red.
The size of the cavern was such that, in the doorway as they were, Trevelyan and Dagna still stood a good sixty feet from it. But its glow was evident. Cracks in the stone, where the red lyrium had broken its bonds, pulsated with that eerie colour. Trevelyan felt she should step no closer.
“Smart to keep it off the ground,” she commented.
“Have to,” Dagna replied. “Grows fast! We change the casket every three weeks—sometimes the chains, too, if it’s gotten a little enthusiastic.”
“I take it that’s why it’s made of stone?”
“Yeah! Grows through it slower than metal or wood—especially wood. It loves organic material! But for stone, I think it… respects it, kind of? Like it remembers where it comes from, almost… Anyway! Let’s get to it!”
With brazen confidence, Dagna marched beyond the threshold. Trevelyan remained reluctant to follow. Little wonder she was being paid so well.
Swallowing her unease, she left the guards posted at the door, and entered the room. But as soon as she did, she could feel it.
She had been near lyrium, before. The Formari in her Circle used it, and she would sometimes have to visit their workshops in the midst of her storeroom duties. Dagna employed it quiet frequently, too, but Trevelyan would keep to the other side of the Undercroft, or run errands. She didn’t like it, particularly. It made her dizzy.
Red lyrium was worse. Only a few feet closer, and a hum entered her mind. A constant, droning hum. There was pressure on her head, too—like a hand, pushing down with all its might. Trevelyan tried not to give it her attention.
“All right,” Dagna said, setting down her chest about forty feet from the casket, “let’s activate!”
Slow and careful, she lifted the lid. Trevelyan held her breath.
But as their device was revealed, the world remained still—and Trevelyan was grateful for it. Though it did not look one, this thing they had created was better called a bomb.
Dagna reached in, and lifted it out. A small, but thick, metal disc, held best and most carefully in two hands. Trevelyan’s eyes searched the surface for any change. But the runes inscribed onto it—runes of her own design—maintained a faint glow. Safe.
The moment it touched the ground, Dagna whipped out her toolbelt. Trevelyan took up her usual position, ready and willing to do or hold anything that Dagna instructed her to. Theory was more her domain. The practical—this—was best left to Dagna.
And so she tinkered away, runes beginning to brighten. The buzz of its growing magic competed for space in Trevelyan’s mind. She began to gather Fade energy around her fingers. Just… in… case...
“Ooh, shiny!”
Trevelyan startled, and whirled. Dorian Pavus stood beside her, gazing down on Dagna’s work. He noticed Trevelyan’s stare, and smiled.
“Dorian?”
“Don’t mind me”—he winked—“just came to see the show.”
Though Trevelyan rolled her eyes, she could not help but smile. “Very well,” she said, and returned her focus to Dagna.
Dorian did the same. He even managed to stay quiet for some number of seconds—though it seemed the banality of observation could not satisfy his ever-operational mind for long. Whilst Trevelyan handed Dagna a precise-looking implement, Dorian asked:
“Will you be attending the banquet?”
Maker, that thing kept slipping her mind. Trevelyan would have to make certain her gown was ready.
“Yes,” she told him, “will you?”
“Physically, yes. Mentally? No.”
Trevelyan laughed. “Likewise.”
“...Have you seen the guest list?”
Trevelyan gave him an exasperated look, but answered regardless: “I have. Though I fear I recognise very few of the names, and know only their characters from the descriptions given to me by the other Ladies.”
“Oh,” Dorian chuckled. “Then you are in for quite the evening! I met some of these people at the Winter Palace. I also met some demons. Completely indistinguishable.”
“Which did you prefer?”
“Oh, I think you know. After all, it’s at least socially acceptable to strike demons with lightning.”
Trevelyan laughed. “The more I hear, the more I wonder why they have all been invited in the first place.”
“Because ‘keeping the peace’, something like that.”
“But why are we all to be involved?” Trevelyan complained.
Dorian smiled. “I hardly know. But far be it from anyone to refuse our lovely Ambassador.”
A flare of magic stole Trevelyan’s attention. She looked back to Dagna, whose grinning face reflected a blue glow. The device below her pulsated, lyrium energy blooming from its carved runes.
“There we go!” she sang. “Activated. How’s that magic amplification feeling?”
“I can certainly feel it!” answered Trevelyan. “I just hope it’s enough to bypass the anti-magic effects.”
Dagna hauled the device into her arms. “So do I, because I added a little extra oomph. Just in case!”
Trevelyan’s eyes widened. “Are you sure that’s a good—!?”
Dagna punted the device towards the red lyrium casket. Trevelyan barely had time to draw breath.
It was like a clap of thunder. Booming sound and blinding light plunged them into darkness. Smoke and dust and falling debris. Reverberations rumbled through the stone around them. Clanging of chains. Whining in the ears. All of Skyhold shuddered, and then fell to silence.
When Trevelyan dared open her firm-shut eyes, a dark and burning haze surrounded her. Yet, it did not touch her. Her arms were outstretched, energy cocooned her. Smoke shifted and moved against the shimmering surface of a protective barrier. She’d got it up just in time.
A quick glance to either side. Dagna was all right, thanks to the magical shield. Seemingly unfazed by the explosion, she looked with shining eyes into the cloud of dust from whence it had come.
Dorian, meanwhile, had had the same idea as Trevelyan. He met her gaze.
“Great minds!” he said, his levity not quite masking the shake in his voice. “Would you like to do the honours”—he nodded towards the smoke—“or shall I?”
“You,” Trevelyan told him, “I’ll hold.”
“Very well. In three, two, one—” Dorian dropped his share of the barrier. Trevelyan held firm.
With her protection, he began to twist his hands. She felt a pull, as he put out his call, and summoned the Fade to their aid.
One of his fists balled up tight, a gathering of energy thickening within. He raised this hand to his face, fingers unfurling before his mouth. With one deep and powerful exhalation, he blew.
His breath turned to a hurricane wind, and blasted forth through the chamber, unimpeded by Trevelyan’s barrier. The smoke and dust was thrown aside. Light poured in once more.
“Wow…” breathed Dagna.
Wow, indeed.
The scene before them had changed entirely. The chains that once suspended the red lyrium chest hung loose, half-extant, against the stone walls. They rattled in the breeze of Dorian’s spell.
The casket they had held? Gone. All that remained in its wake was a large, circular scorch mark, burnt into the floor.
Trevelyan dropped her barrier. “Oh Maker, it worked!”
“Yes!” cheered Dagna, pumping a fist into the air. “It worked! Though, I guess the bad news is, we lost our red lyrium sample!”
Dorian grinned. “Rather the point, wasn’t it?”
“Are you all well?” called one of the guards, from the doorway. Trevelyan had just been about to ask the same of them.
“We’re well!” she replied.
“Mainly because of that barrier of yours,” Dorian muttered. “Good form. Strong. I know very few mages who could create one so stable without a focus—other than myself, of course.”
Trevelyan chuckled. “It was only a barrier.”
“True, but I’ve seen very little magic of yours, and I feel I should like to see more. You’ve got more power than you’re letting on.”
There was a good reason for that: “I suppose I got accustomed to not practicing it. My parents weren’t exactly keen on my using magic around the house.”
Dorian laughed. “We had very different upbringings! But—anyway, you aren’t under the thumb of your parents now. You ought to be loosing fireballs upon the sky.”
“Or causing large explosions?” Trevelyan suggested, gesturing to where Dagna prowled the scorch-circle.
“Fair point.”
Dagna interrupted: “Your Ladyship, we should get started on sweeping the room for trace remains. I want to know if anything was left at all.”
“Absolutely,” said Trevelyan, curious of that herself. She had noticed that the head-pressure was gone—but that did not mean every shard of red lyrium was.
Dorian, meanwhile, took a step back. “Well, you have my congratulations, both of you—but I am leaving before someone asks me to help clean up.”
“I don’t think she meant that kind of sweeping,” said Trevelyan.
“I heard the word ‘sweeping’, I’m leaving,” insisted Dorian. “Best of luck.”
They gave him their farewells and waved him off. Trevelyan watched him as far as the door, then turned away as he disappeared up the stairs. Her eyes were needed on the floor.
But her mind lingered elsewhere.
“Dagna, I’ll be just a moment,” she said, “I need Dorian to pass a message along.”
Dagna gave her leave, and Trevelyan hurried away. With any luck, the sheer amount of stairs would have slowed Dorian down.
And indeed she found him, halfway up. Nearly out of breath, she managed to call:
“Dorian, wait!”
He stopped and waited, sure enough—probably glad of the break. “Miss me already?”
“Naturally, but that is not why I came,” she said, taking a moment. “I wanted to ask, will you tell the Commander we’ve succeeded? He’ll have likely heard the explosion—most of Skyhold will, and I want him to know it’s all right.”
Dorian folded his arms. “And when exactly did I become your messenger boy?”
“I know this is far beneath your standards, but I think he would better see a friend right now, than a... suitor. Given his, ah, current circumstances.”
A sly little chuckle spilled from Dorian’s mouth. “Oh, I think he’d much prefer to see you than I, on any given day. But if you think it best, I shall go and take your glory.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the trouble.”
She expected him to take the message and dart off, but Dorian seemed to settle himself upon the step on which he stood, and fixed her with a stare.
“Are you all right?” he asked, soft.
“Why would I not be?”
“Cullen—the Commander—believed you weren’t, the last we spoke. He mentioned you found him…. you know.”
So Dorian knew. Of course he would, given his friendship with the Commander. Trevelyan did not blame him for not telling her of the circumstances. Such closeness required confidence.
Regardless, she sighed. “I told him yesterday I was fine. Several times.”
Dorian laughed, and moved down a step so that he might join her on hers, and talk more quietly. Those guards were still down there, somewhere. “He is something of a worrywart. You seem all right to me.”
Trevelyan nodded, leaning her back against the wall of the passage. Maker, the stone was cold. “Have you ever seen him like that?”
“No. Though as I understand it, it’s a rare occurrence, for him,” Dorian explained. “The Inquisitor’s seen it, though. Cullen once threw something at our dear Herald’s head!”
Trevelyan’s eyes widened. Dorian must have noticed, for he immediately followed with:
“Well, not at the Inquisitor; the Inquisitor just so happened to walk in at precisely the wrong moment. A habit. Cullen was throwing it at the door, in anger, unaware someone was about to walk through. We all joke about it—it’s how we know he isn’t a spy for Corypheus. If he was, he wouldn’t have missed.”
Trevelyan smiled. She could hardly judge the Commander for acting upon his anger whilst believing himself to be alone. One needed to, sometimes. She’d set some things on fire in private moments. Most recently being yesterday.
Dorian sighed, and shook his head. “I thought he was on the up, you know. He said this one was bad—though you, especially, are already aware of that. Peaks and troughs, I suppose, and you can’t predict when one will follow the other.”
“It is impossible to know,” commiserated Trevelyan. “No one has managed to survive it, to my knowledge. It’s like the Grey Wardens. Departure comes only through death.”
The mention of the latter word seemed to light a fire in Dorian. “Well, let’s hope that’s not the case, shall we? I’m sure it’ll all shake out. After all, the Inquisition’s best boffins are on it—Dagna included! And it’s more than the Chantry’s ever done—though the southern Chantry is not particularly known for doing much…”
Yet another person Trevelyan was now convinced that Baroness Touledy could have a scintillating conversation with. She would merely need an opportunity for introduction. Banquet, perhaps?
“Anyway, I best be off to deliver your message,” he continued. “Though, if I am to do so, I’ll no doubt be asked if I doubled-checked: are you sure you’re all right?”
“Of course,” Trevelyan confirmed. “Is he?”
“Peaks and troughs.”
“I see. Do you think he will attend the banquet?”
Dorian laughed. “I hope not. His table manners are very Fereldan.”
She knew the joke was to make her smile, but she could barely manage it. Her worries were too overpowering. “It’s hardly going to be good for him,” she muttered, continuing—without thinking—to say: “Having us suitors running around after him is pain enough.”
Dorian’s lip quirked upward. “Oh, if you want to talk the ethics of this little competition of yours, it goes far deeper than that.”
The comment pulled Trevelyan from her own mind. “Oh?”
He shrugged. “Well, I’ve not quite put my finger on it yet, but… it all feels rather sordid. Not quite right. Not quite right at all.”
Trevelyan was at once reminded of the argument she overheard between the Commander and Lady Montilyet. Just what had that been about, truly?
“Have you spoken to the Commander about it?”
Dorian laughed. “Oh, you have no idea of what we talk about. You come up quite frequently.”
Trevelyan did not know how to feel about that. Though she was certainly feeling something.
“Ergo,” continued Dorian, “I have. But the man is obstinate, and I feel there may be powers at play that I cannot interfere with.”
“Whose?” asked Trevelyan.
Dorian smiled. “Oh, it’s as I say: far be it from anyone to refuse our lovely Ambassador.”
#unwanted#unwanted fic#look i am more natural with dialogue than description this i know why do u think i chose to write a genre where its people talking a lot#but i reeeeeally wanted the description of the red lyrium chamber to be mission status: sick as hell#i wrote it while fully awake and raring to go#and wrote the rest when i was tired and barely had time#and would you BELIEVE which part i ended up rewriting every day for five days on the trot#SPOILER: IT WASN'T THE PART I WROTE WHILE HALF-ASLEEP#this was my first instance of writer's block for a while and it suuuuuuuucked!!!!! almost in tears!!!! wtf!!!! its just silly words!!!#anyway thats enough complaining enjoy goodnight i am out!!!
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Role Play Part 5: Something Borrowed
A/N: Well, shit. I accidentally finished this series. If you're a writer, you understand how sometimes these stories just write themselves. If you don't write, let me just tell you sometimes it really feels like I am just a pen for words with a life of their own. So, this chapter wrote itself and ended the series. Will there be an epilogue? Oh yeah. But please enjoy the end of this series. It's been a labor of love.
Need to catch up? Here is my Masterlist
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, kissing, cussing, p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, angst
Word count: ~3.2k
In the morning, Elvis wakes up before you. That's strange, because he rarely wakes up before the afternoon, but he seems to sleep better with you there. At first, he lays there holding you, listening to the even pattern of your breathing. He knows he has to tell you to go home today, but the prospect of doing so is not a pleasant one. He slides out from under you and goes to the bathroom and gets a glass of water. When he comes back, you're still asleep, naked, laying on your stomach with your hair spread out across your back and the pillow. You look so peaceful and angelic in your sleep. For a second, he considers pulling out his camera and taking some photos of you. This is the image he'd like to keep, that he wakes up every morning thinking about. Your eyelashes flutter and he sets the glass of water on the nightstand, slipping back into the bed beside you.
You feel his hand on your back as he strokes your hair and it makes you shiver. Groaning and stretching, you scoot over close to him and put your arms around his waist. You feel him kiss the top of your head and linger there, inhaling your scent.
He's trying to figure out how to tell you to leave when all he wants in the world is for you to stay right there in his arms. But that's exactly why you need to go. He'll tell you when you're more awake. It would just be cruel to do it while you're still half asleep.
After a few more minutes you sit up and yawn. You kiss his shoulder and roll over him out of the bed to go to the bathroom. He watches your hips sway as you walk away from him and before he knows it, he's fully erect. That's when he hears the shower start. You come out of the bathroom and he looks you up and down all the way to your perfectly painted toenails.
"Thought I'd hop in the shower. You want to join me?" You say it seductively and do a little shimmy to tempt him. His cock is so hard it hurts, so it's impossible not to notice when he stands up. "Mmm. Good morning, soldier. You comin'?"
He growls and wraps himself around you as you turn to walk back to the bathroom, whispering in your ear.
"Not yet, but I bet I will be soon." You giggle and the sound fills the room in a way that makes his heart swell. As you tumble into the shower together, he decides he can tell you to go home after this is finished. One last time won't hurt.
In the shower, you fall into each other easily and it's all mouths and hands and moans and whimpers as he slides in and out of you, your wet skin hot against his. He starts out behind you with your hands against the shower wall as he holds your hips with both of his. Then, he turns you and picks you up, pressing your back against the wall and fucking into you with every ounce of his power. The steamy smell of sex fills the bathroom and you both get louder and louder as you approach your climax together. The water runs down both of your bodies and mixes with your sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead and shoulders.
"Oh, fuck, YES!" He finally yells as he slams into you one last time and fills you with his warmth. You can't make any noises as your orgasm pounds you and you lose hearing in your left ear. All you can do is hold onto him and shake as he kisses your neck and cheeks and mouth. Slowly, he sets you back down, but your legs are so wobbly that he switches the shower to a bath and sits down with you, situating himself behind you so that you're leaning against his chest.
"Are you okay, honey?"
"Mmm yeah, I'm better than okay. That was amazing."
"Yeah, it was." He tries to get up the courage to ask you to leave after the bath, but he just can't. Maybe he'll let himself enjoy this day with you and you can leave tonight.
******
You spend the next half hour or so in the bathtub together just talking and cuddling until the water isn't warm and your skin starts to prune. Finally, you get out and get dressed. He watches as you put on makeup and fix your hair. Every detail of you is interesting to him and he wants to memorize your every move.
You make your way to the kitchen together and eat some sandwiches before he takes you to show you around the house. He makes sure you get a taste of what each room has to offer: a game of pool, some TV, the piano, and he even lets you actually shoot a couple of his guns. You're out in the yard with the horses when the sun starts to set and he asks what you want for dinner.
"I can have the staff whip up pretty much anything you want."
"No. I have a better idea." The devious glint in your eye makes him nervous.
"What?"
"We're cooking."
"I can't cook!"
"Good thing I can. I'll show you. You can be my little helper." He rolls his eyes and puts his arms around you.
"Honey, are you sure?"
"It'll be fun. Come on. When have you not had fun with me?"
"That's true. Alright, we can try it." He leans in and kisses you deeply. Dinner. Then you have to go home.
******
In the kitchen, there's food everywhere as you try to make a meal out of the ingredients you found. Not surprisingly, you found stuff to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes. You also insist on sautéing some zucchini to go with it. He's not sure why you need a vegetable, but you tell him he'll eat it anyway. He peels potatoes, or tries to but he keeps dropping them in the sink and cussing, and mixes the meatloaf for you. He does not appreciate the texture of it on his hands, but for you he'll do just about anything. Luckily, you made him take his rings off before starting this process. Finally, pretty much everything is done and you're just waiting for the meatloaf to finish baking. You're at the sink doing dishes and he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, setting his chin on your shoulder. He does this so often and it's your favorite thing.
"You look pretty doing dishes in my kitchen."
"Oh yeah? You like your women domestic?"
"I like you domestic." He kisses your cheek and your ear and down to the back of your neck. You grab a towel and dry your hands and then turn to face him. He kisses your mouth, parting your lips and sending his tongue to move against yours. With his hands on your hips, he walks you to another counter and picks you up, setting your bottom on the countertop. It's impressive how quickly he gets your pants and panties off and tossed to the side. Your hands go to the clasp on his pants and you drop them just enough to pull his cock out. He's mostly hard already and it only takes a few seconds of you stroking him with your hand to get him erect enough to push into you. You both let out a moan at the relief of him being inside you again. It feels like you'll never get enough of that sensation and he begins to slide in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He's convinced he could fuck you a million times and it still wouldn't get old. He pumps faster and faster, speeding haphazardly towards his climax, slamming into you harder and harder. He nips at your neck while he pounds you and you drag your nails down the back of his shirt. There's something very comfortable and intimate about the way he fucks you this time and it feels like you're going to keep doing it like this forever. He buries himself in you over and over again, hitting the most sensitive place inside you each time. You feel your orgasm beginning to build and you know you won't last much longer in this position. He seems to be experiencing the same thing as he grunts while he ruts into you. He looks down at the place where you connect and it nearly pushes him over the edge.
"God, baby, I could do this forever."
"I wish you would."
"Mm... mmm... baby, fuck!" His hips meet yours one last time and he cums deep inside you again. You hold him to you while you both think about what he said just seconds ago. Did he really say forever?
Just then the timer for the meatloaf goes off and you both jump. He erupts in laughter and you both stand there laughing and holding each other for another minute or so. Then, he pulls out and hands you your pants so you can get the meatloaf out. Both of you pretend to forget about what he said as you sit down to eat.
******
After dinner, he knows it is time for you to leave, but instead he offers up the idea of a movie in the TV room. You eagerly agree, completely oblivious to the fact that he's been trying to ask you to leave all day. He throws his arm around you and lets you snuggle into your place on his shoulder. Or at least, it sure feels like it's your place. The movie goes on and you laugh together and almost cry together at one part. He tells himself that as soon as it's over, he'll walk you to the door, give you a quick kiss, and be done with it.
And then he hears how evenly you breathe and notices how limp your hand is on his knee.
You're asleep.
His heart leaps and he smiles. He can't make you go home now. It would just be irresponsible to send you driving off this sleepy. Instead, he turns and scoops you into his arms. He carries you up both flights of stairs to the bedroom and lays you in the bed, sliding in next to you. He's laying behind you, so he looks down at you and watches you sleep for a bit. Then, you roll over to face him. He moves your hair out of your face and kisses your forehead.
It takes everything in him not to whisper that he loves you.
******
The next morning, you wake up first. Elvis breathes softly next to you and you run your fingertips down his nose and jawline, where the shadow of his facial hair has appeared overnight. Your heart breaks a little when you realize this is the last time you'll wake up next to him for a while. Maybe ever. It certainly feels like there's something real between you, but you can never be sure. He is still married.
You're trying to hold back tears when he stirs and groans. He puts his arm around you and pulls you in close to him and then kisses your forehead.
"Good morning, baby."
"I'm sorry I fell asleep last night. We didn't even get to do a role play."
"Are you kidding? We role played a married couple all day. You falling asleep on the couch before we could have sex was just part of the act."
You both laugh and try to ignore the implications of what he's just said. To keep it light, he doubles down.
"Now I just need you to nag me all morning and then it'll feel more real." You sit up and grab a pillow, hitting him with it gently.
"Oh yeah? That's the kind of wife you think I'd be?"
"Is there such a thing as a wife that doesn't nag? You made me eat a vegetable."
"Elvis! You little shit! It's good for you!" You hit him again with the pillow and he grabs it.
"Ahh, stop, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" He hits you with the pillow and then wrestles you down on the bed until he's on top of you. He leans in and kisses you gently.
This time he undresses you both carefully, dropping kisses onto your skin whenever he gets a chance. He takes the time to caress your body and press his lips and tongue in all the right places. Your orgasm washes over you like water and runs out to the edges of you sensually. When he pushes into you, he goes slowly so that you can feel every inch of him. He's unbearably gentle and he kisses you deeply and passionately while he slides in and out. There's nothing rushed or harsh or animalistic in the way he meets your hips with his. And he's noticeably silent, only letting a soft moan escape him here and there. When he presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes while he shudders and fills you with warmth, you realize what's happening.
He's making love to you.
And he's telling you goodbye.
When he's finished, he lays his head on your chest and you swear he's trying not to cry. You hold him and let the tears slide onto the sheets while he can't see them. He lays there for a while just trying to breathe and you finally get ahold of yourself.
"I should probably head out soon."
"Yeah, probably." He manages to drag himself up out of the bed and put some clothes on while you do the same and pack up all the things you've strewn around the room since you've been there. You do this in silence without meeting each other's eyes.
Finally, you find yourself at the door just standing in front of him and staring at your shoes. Your heart is pounding.
"You know, honey, we probably should... well... I don't know if we should..." You know what he's trying to say and if it's really the end then you have nothing to lose.
"Elvis..."
"Yeah?" He looks up at you nervously and you finally make eye contact.
"I love... being with you. But-" When you start the sentence his heart jumps into his throat, but the last half of it drops it to his stomach. Hearing you say the words might've changed his mind. But he can't be in a one-sided love affair. Not while he's still married.
"This is over." He says it with an undeniable finality that cuts through you like a knife.
"Okay. I understand."
"It's been really great. You're really great and I-"
"It's okay." You put your finger on his lips before he says something he doesn't mean. Then you turn and open the door and walk out to your car. You drive away and try not to let yourself cry. Elvis goes back in the house, picks up the closest knick knack, and throws at the wall as hard as he can.
He stands with his hands on his hips looking up at the ceiling, his flowered silk shirt sticking to his back from the sweat. You almost said it. You were so close. Do you love him? His mind races over all the times you were together: the way you breathed life into him with the cop scenario, how you laid together talking until the sun came up after the French maid, when you let him take that dirty picture of you and how you felt sleeping against his chest, and this weekend. This weekend. It's happened fast, but he's in love with you. The thought of never seeing you again, never feeling the calm that settles in him when you're around, never hearing your laugh, it's unbearable.
"Fuck it."
He grabs a set of keys and heads to the carport. He has to look to see which set he grabbed and makes his way to the Blackhawk, quickly unlocking it and sliding into the front seat.
As he drives, it starts to drizzle, but he makes his way across town quickly. Luckily, he remembers where your apartment is. When he gets to the complex, he swings into a parking space and gets out and stares at the buildings in front of him. He remembers the address, but not the apartment number.
"Goddammit." He goes from building to building trying to remember. He figures out which building it is, but doesn't know which staircase to use. Finally, he just looks up and yells at the top of his lungs.
"Y/N!!!!!"
You've been moping around the apartment for the last twenty minutes, just letting all the tears you've been holding in fall. Your hair is a mess and you probably have makeup everywhere. But it doesn't matter. Your heart is in pieces and you're about to just crawl in bed for the afternoon. That's when you hear him. You run to the window and open it. The rain is starting to come down pretty good now.
"Elvis! What are you doing here?!"
"COME DOWN HERE!"
"It's raining!"
"I'm aware! Come down here anyway!" Your heart is pounding in your chest with hope for why he's here. You run to the front door and open it. You don't even think to bring an umbrella or jacket or anything. You just walk out into the rain towards him. When you get to him, he stands in front of you breathing heavily.
"Elvis, what-?"
"I love you." It takes your breath away.
"You what?!"
"I-I-I I love you. I'm in love with you." You stand there in awe, heart stopped and breathing shallow. "And I don't even care anymore if you don't-"
"I love you, too, Elvis."
"You do?"
"Yes!! Of course I do!" He smiles and laughs, relaxing. Then, he steps forward and wraps you in his arms, capturing your lips in one of the most passionate kisses you've ever experienced. Your mouths move against each other in a rhythmic tandem that only the two of you understand. The rain continues, but you don't even notice how wet you are. There is only you and him and your love for each other. He scoops you into his arms and carries you up the stairs to your apartment, still kissing you. When you get there, he kicks the door open and carries you straight to the bedroom.
But this time you don't have sex. You strip off your wet clothes and lay naked in the bed together. No costumes, no props, no pretending. Just the two of you. You talk and laugh and kiss and the love between you grows stronger by the second. The situation around you may be complicated, but you and him together is not. You'll figure the rest of it out. You love him and he loves you. Nothing else matters.
******
The End
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @deltafalax
#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis fanfic#elvis smut#elvis presley fic#elvis presley x reader#elvis x reader#elvis presley x y/n#elvis presley#elvis fic#elvis fanfiction#elvis x y/n#elvis x you#elvis presley fanfic#elvis presley smut#elvis presley x you#role play
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First of all Hi! I so far have loved your other ghost fics and can’t wait to read more!
Secondly, I was wondering if maybe you could write something where the reader and ghost are like married (possibly have a child but that’s optional) and the 141 find out that ghost has a secret family and sees him being so soft with you and are just in huge shock (especially soap)?
Again love your other writing and completely understand if you don’t have the time to do this! Hope you have a nice day!😊
HELLO!! thank you so much for reading my other works, I'm glad you enjoyed reading them <33333 it always means a lot when someone says they love reading the fics you wrote, so thank you again. I hope you enjoy what i threw together for your request!!
-Lee
--
Phantom Pain
pairing: oneshot; ghost x reader
warnings; none really
wc: 1.1k+
--
Ghost rarely ended up in the hospital. If he did, you knew it was bad.
--
To task force 141, Ghost was an anomaly, an enigma. No one really could crack his code or figure him out. Even though he has been on the team for over seven years. The closest anyone has gotten to him was his team member Soap, but even then, Soap barely knew him.
For Godsakes, even his profile didn’t have a picture of him, it was just a blank spot where his face should be.
His teammates really only saw his eyes. They were a deep blue like the ocean. Turbulent, but held all the cards Ghost held. If you figured out what his eyes were conveying, you figured out him.
Looking back at it now, no one ever figured out Ghost, or what his azure eyes were saying. No one on 141, at least.
--
This mission was supposed to be an easy one. In and out. No casualties, no injuries. But things never seem to go to plan. Typical for task force 141.
Even though the team didn’t suffer any casualties, they did suffer quite a few injuries, Ghost being in the worst shape of the lot.
He had two gun shot wounds and a couple of lacerations on his arms and legs. Could be worse, you guess. But honestly looking at the state of him now, you would be shocked he wasn’t already dead, laying in a casket.
This is where you come in. The secret wife, partner of Ghost, aka Simon.
He always kept you hidden away from his world, never wanting to tarnish you red. But sometimes you had to step into his vicious world, tending to him in ways you never wished you had to. You didn’t mind the deep color maroon though. Maybe that’s why you found yourself drawn to Simon, like a moth to a flame.
It usually ended up with you and Simon in your shared home, you tending to his wounds in any way you could. For some reason the man hated hospitals, and avoided them at all costs, so you always tried your best to fix him up.
So, when you got the call from your local hospital that your husband was admitted and currently being operated on, you knew it was bad.
You immediately dropped what you were doing and drove fast to the hospital, hoping to catch Simon right out of surgery.
Your timing was near perfect, because by the time you arrived, and talked to the nurse’s station, he was already tucked away in his room, fast asleep but breathing.
That’s all that mattered - that he was breathing. Slow and steady.
You pull up a chair and take his large hand into yours, already noticing the usual warmth is lost, which makes you grasp his hand even tighter, hoping to transfer some of your warmth to him.
--
It’s hours later when you find yourself waking up. Your neck is sore and cricks as you lift your head. The bright lights of the hospital room cloud your vision for a second before your eyes adjusts.
You notice that you’re still holding Simon’s hand. You must have fallen asleep, your head halfway resting on his forearm and the bed.
When you fully come to, you notice Simon is awake as well, and he’s looking at you with a tenderness you only wish to see every time he comes home to you.
You now notice his thumb is tenderly stroking your knuckles, and he gives your hand a squeeze every once in a while, to signal to you that yes, he’s here, and alive. He’s alright.
“Hey baby.” Your voice carries across the room, travels its short way to Simon, who’s once again looking at you adoringly. His lips upturn slightly, something you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t solely focused on your husband.
“Before you ask, I’m alright.” His voice is soft, as if he’s trying to pacify you, quell you by the best of his abilities. Even though he’s the one who’s injured, he doesn’t want you to hurt.
He knows you hate it when he has a mission. He pictures you pacing around your shared home, willing him to come back to you, and he hates himself for it.
You let out a sigh, all too familiar with the scene playing out before you.
Now it’s your turn to squeeze his hand.
“I don’t know how many times I can watch you do this to yourself, Simon. Every time you go away, I always prepare myself that you won’t be coming back. And I just- I don’t want to think like that anymore.”
Simon shifts on the bed, “Come here.”
Even though you’re concerned about his injuries, you still settle yourself on the bed with Simon, his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you down to his chest.
An accustomed position that you’ve missed recently. He’s been gone too long.
His familiar scent pulls you even further into him, and you bask in his warm embrace, only hoping it won’t be ripped away from you anytime soon.
“Nothing’s going to happen to me, ok?” You feel him kiss the top of your head, and you tighten your arm that’s wrapped around his torso.
“Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easily, bug.”
You can feel the smirk that draws up his lips, and you mentally roll your eyes at his statement. He was always so flippant about his life, yet you still can’t help but love him dearly.
You also know he purposefully played the ‘term of endearment’ card, which he knew would make you go easy on him.
You hum against his chest, “We’ll see about that. You know, after you get home, recovered and healthy.”
You just feel his rumble of laughter, and you smile against him. Glad that his humor hasn’t left him despite all the tragedies he’s seen throughout his career. He leaves another kiss atop your head, and his hand comes up to stroke your arm while you stroke his stomach.
You’re so caught up in your moment with Simon, that you don’t notice a pair of familiar light blue eyes watching you both through the glass window of the hospital room door.
They’re eyes that only hold curiosity, wishing to know what they are witnessing.
The owner of said eyes slips away before you or Ghost notice him, and he figures he’ll just have to causally bring it up to his colleague the next time he sees him at the base.
He imagines he’ll say something like, “Didn’t know you had a soft side, Ghosty.” He then pictures the punch Ghost would aim at his bicep, already feeling the phantom pain.
--
Ghost Masterlist
#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#ghost request#simon riley request#simon ghost riley request#simon ghost riley imagine#mw2 ghost#cod ghost#ghost mw2#ghost cod#cod ghost x reader#ghost cod x reader#cod ghost imagine#mw2 ghost imagine#cod ghost request#ghost fluff#cod ghost fluff#mw2 ghost fluff#simon riley
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Violets Second Signet **Spoiler Warning**
Ok, after a long time thinking about this, and reading Iron Flame 4 times I think I am ready to theorize my idea for Violets second signet.
Let's start by summarizing what we know.
I have seen that some people have speculated that her signet is Distance wielder because she asked Xaden if that was his. While I don't think that was just brought up without a purpose, I don't think that would be her signet. (I think Aaric might end up being that).
I also think Violet's signet is going to be something that either we have never seen before, or very rare. This power comes from Andarna, she's a special breed of Dragon that has been basically extinct for 650 years.
Signets are based on the rider, and what they need most at their core. Violet needs information, Facts.
It is also mentioned many times that Violet has a mind of a scribe and the heart of a rider. I think this is important, more important than we know yet.
I think Violet can process events and information in slow motion. I think she can see everything around her happening, giving her time to process and record the events within her mind. While this doesn't seem significant, to Violet its everything. There are a few events that's stood out to me that made me think this.
First, when she reviews what Aiofe wrote and admits she missed some things. Also, Jesinia mentions that stories can change depending on who is transcribing them. Violet is mad about the amount of information that has been forgotten or changed due to scribes hiding the Venin from Navarre. She would want to recount everything correctly.
“Absolutely.” I nod, then take the notebook and skim Aoife’s neat handwriting. It’s amazingly accurate, with little details I’d missed, like the two infantry cadets who’d offered to be the healers’ aides because that’s their job for the squad. They have designated roles for each mission. I set it down on top of the book I’m returning to sign. “This is incredible.” “Glad to hear it’s accurate.” She glances over her shoulder, as if checking to see if we’re alone, which we are. “The tricky thing is to capture the truth and not just an interpretation. Stories can change depending on who tells them.”
Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 224). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.
Second, the way some of the events and wording were portrayed made me suspicious that these were written a specific way. They were very detailed catching events that were happening in seconds or described as happening in slow motion. I think we see some clues to this being her signet once we get to Part 2 of the book and Andarna is awake and Channeling. We know Violets first signet showed up right after she started channeling with Tairn (that first kiss with Xaden), so it would make sense that she could have been showing signs of her second signet without realizing it. I don't think she was fully able to wield until the final battle though. My reasoning for this is if she was, even if she was unaware, Tairn would have sensed her pulling power from another source and wielding. If he did during the battle, we won't know that until the 3rd book since we don't get much info on events once battle has ended.
Examples of her signet showing up prior to final battle as follows...
Time slows to sluggish heartbeats as I watch him reach for the ground.
Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 567). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.
Everything somehow slows and yet happens at once.
Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 597). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.
Time slows to heartbeats, my breath freezing in my heated chest. Then the wyvern crosses the invisible barrier, and my heart stops beating altogether as its wings flap once. Twice.
Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 745). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.
During the battle, two events really stood out - when Violet was waiting for the Venin to come upon them and worried about her friends. She says they have 10 seconds maybe. It is then described in detail all the events taking place a second at a time. Shes following this dagger being repaired while simultaneously aware of everything and everyone around her. She is able to gather copious amounts of information in a short, small amount of time.
One. Ridoc waves his hands at my right, holding a dagger that’s been snapped in two. Shit, if his only remaining blade is broken—I blink when the pieces disappear. He wasn’t waving at me. Two. Snapping my head to the left, I find the pieces already in Rhiannon’s hands as Feirge dives to where Sliseag hovers beneath. Three. Feirge flies alongside Sliseag, and Rhiannon tosses the pieces. Four. To Sawyer’s credit, he catches them. Five. Sgaeyl rises to take Feirge’s place, and I lock eyes with Xaden only long enough to see that he’s unharmed. Blood both drips from Sgaeyl’s mouth and runs in rain-driven rivulets down the side of Xaden’s face, but I instinctively know it’s not his and focus on the imminent threat. Six. Breathe. I have to breathe through the firestorm in my chest or I’ll burn out. It’s not that I don’t recognize the signs: the trembling, the heat, the fatigue. It’s just that they don’t matter. Everyone I love is on this field. Seven. They’re almost on us, and I look down at the ward chamber, where Marbh stands watch with a Blue Clubtail I don’t recognize and a vague shape I hope is Andarna, and when a flash of sunlight reflects on the dagger in Sawyer’s hand, it disappears again, Feirge already on the move. Eight. “Dajalair is frustrated by the unflyable conditions,” Tairn relays as Feirge rises alongside Aotrom. Nine. “Tell them they’re more efficient guarding the courtyard and incoming wounded than struggling with waterlogged wings,” I note. “They’d be a liability up here right now, not an asset.” The dagger changes hands, and Ridoc is once again armed. I grin at how seamlessly we work as a team, then face the coming tidal wave. Ten. “You’re beginning to think—” Tairn starts. “Like Brennan?” I suggest as the wyvern enter our airspace. “Like Tairn,” Sgaeyl answers,
Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (pp. 827-828). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.
The last scene that made me think this was when Sawyer and Aotrom was being attacked by multiple wyverns. Violet is able to assess the situation, gather the information, which gave her the opportunity to save her friends. I think this speaks directly to the battle at Resson, her world had been so turned upside down with the realization that everything she knew was false she was unable to fully piece together the information she did know about how wyvern is made from Venin, she feels responsible for Liam.
We’re almost there, but everything happens so fucking fast that it’s as if the rest of the world slows down. In one heartbeat, the closest wyvern opens its jaws. In the second, it blasts green fire across Sliseag and Sawyer dives backward out of the seat, narrowly avoiding being burned to death and rolling down Sliseag’s spine with a smoking boot. In the third, it completes its assault, snapping at Sliseag’s exposed side. Sawyer kicks at the gaping jaws to save his dragon from the bite, but in the next, he takes it himself, his leg disappearing between the wyvern’s massive teeth.
Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 833). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.
With that I leave you with this blurb from Xaden
“You have to find your center again, Violet. I can’t do it for you.” He holds my gaze, letting his words sink in, before adding, “You are a creature of logic and facts, and everything you know got turned upside down and shaken. You’ll never know how truly sorry I am for that. But you can’t just sit there and hope. You want it to change, then you have to figure it out, just like Gauntlet. You’re the only one who can.”
Yarros, Rebecca. Iron Flame (The Empyrean Book 2) (p. 663). Entangled Publishing, LLC. Kindle Edition.
#fourth wing#iron flame#rebecca yarros#violet and xaden#xaden riorson#xadenviolet#andarna#tairn and andarna#the empyrean#violet sorrengail#signet#wyvern#venin
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Morning Cuddles
Eddie Munson x gn!reader
Summary: You have to get up for work in the morning but it's a little difficult with your boyfriend's arms wrapped tightly around you.
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: weed is mentioned once, a lot of fluff
A/N: This is my first fanfiction ever! I've had this idea sitting comfortably in my brain for what feels like a whole year, so I finally said screw it and wrote it down, and now I’m posting it. This takes place before the events of season four or maybe just in a completely different universe where everyone is alive and happy :)) Hope you enjoy it!!
You gently drifted awake to the warm early morning sunlight spilling into the bedroom through cheap curtains. As your surroundings became more clear. The week old clothes scattered along the floor. The posters and random doodles that covered every inch of the bedroom walls. You were reminded that you're not in your own apartment, but in your boyfriend's trailer and bed. The boy still sound asleep next to you.
Your head tucked gently into his chest as his chin rested upon your own head. His long arms were wrapped around you, similar to a child squeezing their favorite teddy bear. Your legs intertwined, holding you as closely as he possibly could. You felt warm and protected being pressed into his chest, listening to his gentle snores.
When he held you like this, it somehow made his twin size bed feel so much bigger. Unfortunately, the realization came that you would soon have to leave the comfort of your boyfriend's arms. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes before Eddie's alarm clock would go off (you had thankfully remembered to set it up last night before falling asleep), signaling the start of another grueling day at a job you didn’t care for.
Not wanting to disturb your peaceful surroundings, you stifled a groan, and instead let out a long, soft sigh as you turned over to rub the sleep from your eyes, as gracefully and with as few movements as possible, so as not to wake the warm safety that lay next to you.
You and Eddie had known each other your entire lives growing up together, from climbing trees in the woods and playing pretend when you were children, to weekly movie nights in middle school, to hotboxing his van the first night he got the keys. But it wasn't until high school when Eddie had told you he’d had feelings for you his entire life. Not being able to imagine a life without Eddie, you agreed to go out with him only to realize just how much you loved him too. Time you weren’t spending with him was time you spent thinking about him, and when he was around, you felt free.
You felt like you didn’t have to hide yourself, watch your every move, stringently guard yourself for fear of others ruining the things you had built within your castle walls. You were a private person, years of fortification having constructed barriers of the hardest stone, and Eddie somehow had found the key to the door of your castle. Maybe it was the way his deep brown eyes looked at you, not just looking, but seeing. Maybe it was the way he smiled, the light in his face brightening the entire room. Maybe it was the way he touched you, gently and respectfully, the warm skin of his hands making everything inside you melt.
He stirred, not yet fully awake, but adjusting to this new position. One arm hugged your waist while the other was tucked under your head, serving as a pillow where you had foregone yours. He nuzzled the top of your head. His eyes still closed.
This started out as a rare occurrence when you would spend the night. It happened one night, after you had spent the day together, and when the time had come for you to separate, you didn’t want to drive back to your apartment alone, nor did he want to leave you. The pure desire to be close to one another intoxicated the both of you, and you spent the night tangled in the sheets, wanting nothing more than for that moment to never end.
You buried your face in his chest, letting the smell of his detergent mixed with his deodorant fill your nose, the scent so comforting that you began to drift back to sleep.
And then the alarm clock went off.
You both took a deep breath, stirring awake. You reached behind Eddie towards the clock on the nightstand, but your movement was restricted by the two long arms that were still wrapped around you. The more you moved away, the more he latched onto you, burying his face in the space between your neck and your shoulder.
“Edd–“ you started. You didn’t really know how you were going to finish that statement, but you knew he was the obstacle between you and stopping the blaring sound yelling at you from just slightly too far away.
He mumbled a low groan into your skin, and you felt the vibration, tempting you to stay.
“Eddie please.”
He groaned again, slightly louder and assuredly more distressed than before, now wrapping his legs around you, pulling you tighter. You couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle as you made gentle attempts to free yourself, his hands going back to you and arms holding you tighter the more you tried to escape.
“I need to get up.” You pleaded.
“No you don’t.” He slurred in a tired response, his voice rough with sleep.
After more struggling, you finally managed to free yourself just enough to reach the alarm clock with your right hand stretched as far out as it would go, the top half of your body twisting uncomfortably away from your captor. Grabbing hold of the clock, you haphazardly grabbed the whole clock so that you could bring the device closer, locating the alarm’s off button. Its red numbers are no longer flashing.
You gently placed the clock back to its place on the nightstand and returned your body to its natural position, still being tightly bound by lanky limbs that had no intention of letting go. You decided to try a different approach.
Having wrenched yourself upward in your escape attempts, his face was now in your chest, his brown curls tickling your nose. You began petting his hair down, creating a spot to place a soft kiss.
“Eds, baby…” you murmured into his hair.
He didn’t reply. You continued petting and kissed again.
“I have to go to work.”
Still no reply.
“Not all of us get weekends off cause they're still in high school” Part of you was jealous. Okay, a lot of you was jealous. Eddie and you were supposed to graduate together, but that didn't end up happening with him being held back. Twice.
He sleepily breathed out a laugh. “You could just quit.”
You laughed in response, once again leaning away, trying once more to release yourself from his grasp. This time, he relented slightly enough so that you could sit up, but as you did so, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling himself to your hips and weighing you down.
“Eddie,” you groaned in mock frustration as you put your hand on his back, trying to rub him awake, “You know damn well how badly I want to stay here with you…”
He murmured an affirmation, as well as what might have been words if they hadn’t been so muffled.
“…But I really do need to get up.”
Not moving, he repeated the same low whine from before.
“It’s only going to be a few hours,” you bargained.
He snorted. “Yeah, like, nine of them.“
You rolled your eyes. Not wanting to spend the whole day in your place of work either, but knowing that you had to. “Yeah. Like I said. A few.” You both chuckled. “It’s not gonna be forever. I’ll come back here after work…”
You lifted his arm, which was heavy as he had no intention of helping you move it, and placed it to the side, sliding out of his other one. As you moved to a kneeling position and looked down at him, his eyes were half-open, meeting yours, practically reaching out for you. You leaned forward and kissed him on his temple, caressing the side of his face. “…And then we can pick up right where we left off.”
#eddie#eddie munson#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x reader#eddie x y/n#fanfic#stranger things#stranger things s4#fiction#eddie x you#edddie munson x gn!reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fluff#one shot#fanfiction#first fic#eddie munson smut#steddie#stranger things self insert#male reader#fem reader#gn reader#stranger things fanfiction#eddie x reader fluff
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hi! i’d like to request an erling haaland imagine in which the reader has surgery (nothing major, like an appendectomy) and erling takes care of her ❤️
The operation - Erling Haaland
Hiii thank you for requesting I appreciate it a lot
DISCLAIMER I haven’t wrote for a bit so if I mess it up a bit I’m sorry
Pairing - Erling Haaland x female reader
Warnings!! - mentions of an operation and anesthesia and just Erling being a cutie
Y/N POV
"Babe, you'll be fine, trust me," Erling said in a soft voice as I was getting into my blue gown to get ready for my operation as I had damaged my hand a few days ago
"I'm just scared. You know how I feel about hospitals; I don't like them!" Erling sympathetically looked at me. " I'll be here when you wake up, I promise, okay?" | nodded at him instead of giving an actual reply
My nurse then walks into my room.
"How are you feeling?" | looked up at her as she checked my vitals and things like that. I wasn't paying enough attention to see fully
"As ready as I'll ever be." I gave her a small smile. " okay, so I'm going to give you some anesthesia. It isn't weak enough to the point you will wake up, but it isn't strong enough to last for multiple hours. The operation should only be around 1 to 2 hours." She said while focusing on the iv line
" I'm going to insert the anesthesia now so that you will be asleep in the next 5 minutes." | looked up the where she was injecting the anesthesia and watched it run down the tube
"I'll be here when you wake up, okay?"
Erling said in a sweet voice as he rubbed the hand he was holding
"Okay, thank you for being here. Love you." | looked up to him with hooded eyes as mine started to drop from the anesthesia kicking in. "I love you too."
And that was the last few words I heard come out of his mouth before the anesthesia entirely took over
My eyes slowly started to flutter open, and at first, I was unsure of where I was, but as I finally regained my senses, I realized I was in the hospital. I could feel someone holding my hand. I turned my head to the right slowly and saw Erling sitting, holding my hand while he was scrolling through his phone, oblivious to the fact I was awake
"What you looking at?" Erling whipped his head up to look at you and smiled as he saw you were awake. "Just scrolling through Instagram; how are you feeling?"
"Not too bad, just a little sore." | said, sending a small smile. Just as I was about to continue the conversation, a nurse entered the room. "How are you feeling?" She said with a bright smile on her face
"Not too bad, just tired, and my hand is a little sore, but not bad." She gave you a quick look before handing you some medication. *You should be able to leave in the next hour. We have to monitor you for 30 minutes to ensure the pain goes down then you are free to go." She smiled as she turned to leave the room after handing me some water for my tablets
"Finally home sweet home." | said as I stepped into the front door of my and Erling's house. I went to grab my bag to carry it up the stairs, but before I could, Erling swooped in to grab it before me. You are not doing anything. Go and sit on the sofa, and I will bring you some snacks and water." I gave him a confused look, and he just shook his shoulders and took my bags up the stairs to our bedroom
The night I stayed the same. He was doing everything for me. I liked it, but I also hated not walking to the kitchen to get my drink. I'm not going to complain as it is rare we are ever just us two anymore since he's always away playing games, and I also have my job, so I can't always go with him, but moments like these are amazing
"Erling, I'm tired I'm going to go to bed. I said while keeping my head placed on his shoulder. "Okay, pass me the remote let me turn off the tv, babe." I grabbed the remote and did it myself and stood up to walk myself up the stairs to bed, but as I started walking away, I felt him pick me up bridal style. "what did I say I told you not to do anything." He said as he was walking up the stairs. *I know. I'm sorry I forgot." He shocks his head and lets out a little laugh
He placed me down on the side of the bed before bringing me my pajamas and helping me with my pants and shirt, as I could not use my hand. After I got changed, I lay under the bed covers, then he joined, and I snuggled up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and facing him.
"thank you for looking after me." | said, looking at him. "Don't thank me. That's what I'm here to do, baby, and I would rather be helping you than doing anything else."
One yawned as I slowly started to drift off, saying a quiet. "I love you." As I finally started to shut down, I heard him say.
"I love you too so much.”
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Thank you for whoever requested and I apologize if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted but I tried and if you guys could give me tips on writing I don’t mind as I’m trying to improve thanks
#erling haaland#erling x reader#erling haaland imagine#football imagine#football#fanfiction#first post#request#erling haaland smut#soccer
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I’m still coming up for air but wrote a little something if you’re interested…
Meet Celeste Elena Seresin-Trace
Natasha startles awake, unsure when she drifted off. The house is more quiet than it’s been since she and Jake brought Celeste home. Her mom and Gabby must be out, leaving the new little family alone.
Jake sits with Celeste cradled in his lap, her head supported tenderly in his large, capable hands. His leave is so short that he’s not wanted to miss a moment of the exhausting cycle of diaper changes and feeding and hours spent staring at the tiny, sleeping being they created, treasuring every shift, scrunch, and wrinkle of her delicate features. She already has Natasha’s darker hair (oh the heartburn!), but her eyes have yet to settle. Jake would have to pry it from her, but she hopes Cici ends up with his green eyes. Spending so much time taking care of the baby also means he hasn’t shaved since the day they went to the hospital, and Natasha is fully appreciating the rare shadow of facial hair on her husband.
He doesn’t seem to notice she’s awake just yet, and Natasha keeps her eyelids lowered to listen to the soft conversation he keeps up with their daughter. “Don’t tell your Mama, Cici, but you might be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. Of course, she’s neck and neck with you because I’m one lucky guy.”
Celeste’s tiny arms jerk in response to his words. It will be several weeks before her smile is more than a muscle reflex, but Jake insists that she smiles the most at him.
They’d had several first names picked out for her, although Jake was adamant from early on that he loved Natasha’s middle name and wanted to pass it on to their daughter. Elena means “light” and that’s what his two girls are in his life. He’s probably figured it out by now, but Natasha can’t resist Jake when his sweet, sentimentality slips past his cocky guard.
Celeste is perhaps a little on the nose for a girl with pilots for parents, but they both liked how pretty it sounded and how the vowels of her full name sailed so smoothly along the tongue. Natasha still chokes up remembering Jake murmuring it to her while he cradled her to his bare chest in the hospital, his hands then still slightly awkward as he adjusted to holding so tiny a person. Having a baby has turned both of them into saps.
“Whoa there, Ci,” he yelps quietly when Celeste jerks. “Strong as Mama already. No one’s going to mess with you, are they? And don’t worry, Daddy won’t let them.”
God help whoever dares mess with their little girl, Natasha thinks. Especially if she has Jake’s wit and penchant for verbal annihilation. They’re going to get a pair of tongue lashings they might never forget. Or recover from. The thought makes her huff a laugh, and both Jake and Cici look over at her at the same time.
Cover blown, Natasha fully opens her eyes. “I am not bailing you out for harassing a four year old at daycare,” she capitulates.
Celeste’s mouth opens and closes now that she knows Natasha’s awake, and Jake reluctantly relinquishes her to be fed. They learned quickly that their daughter will give them a short grace period to notice she’s hungry before she unleashes a full blown, bleating scream for food.
“I would never harass a child,” Jake scoffs. “Just have a firm conversation.” He helps her adjust the pillow to support Celeste while she eats. Natasha has only enough attention to spare to give him a skeptical look as Cici becomes more impatient about being fed. The defensiveness melts from his face, and he brushes her damp hair from her forehead to place a tender kiss there.
Natasha feels pretty lucky too.
#hannix fics#hannix football rivalry#Hannix football rivalry baby#Hannix football family#natasha phoenix trace x jake hangman seresin#natasha phoenix trace#jake hangman seresin
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Could you write scenarios where tfp Megatron, Optimus, and Predaking meet a kitsune/nine-tailed fox reader who is constantly sleeping but the reason is because they see the future in their dreams
Caught Up In The Future
Pairing - Romantic
Category - Headcanons
Trigger Warnings - None
Ween says:"Half-way through writing I just realized I misread your request and I wrote something angsty with the reader as an S/O instead. I was considering scraping the entire work and rewriting it, but I couldn't think of anything interesting, so I hope this is fine instead. I'm sorry for the slip-up!"
Predaking let out a low, annoyed growl, bothered by all the commotion outside the ship. The buzzing saws, the screeching of metal, the back and forth lumbering of vehicons who were helping one another haul heavy metal scraps to and fro—all of it was getting on the predacon’s nerves. So with a huffy growl, he shifted positions and covered his head with his massive, scaly claws before curling up tighter, as if that would help him in any way, which it didn’t.
Out of the corner of his bright, flaxen optics, he caught sight of Y/N, sitting just meters away from him with their eyes closed, legs folded, and tails tapping against the floor. At least he wasn’t the only one annoyed by all the commotion outside, he thought.
And while he’d usually be upset that they were being disturbed as well, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see them awake. He hardly sees them awake from day to day, and while he was free to wake them whenever he pleased, he felt—he wasn’t sure how to put it into words. It was the idea that he had to wake them up in order to spend time with them and speak with them, rather than them choosing to spend time with him that upset him greatly. Even when they began “dating”, they rarely spent much time together which upset him even more.
As his claws began to curl and his tail began to beat against the metal floor, Y/N opened their eyes and cast him a glance.
“You’re upset.” They said.
He growled, proving their suspicions correct. His plates suddenly hissed and began shifting as he transformed into his rootmode.
“Wanna chat about it, big guy?”
“Why do you choose to rest so long?”
"Ah, so it's not just the noise that's bothering you," they shrugged, “I’m an organism that needs a lot of sleep, I’m not as efficient as—“
“You have misunderstood me.” He interjected.
“Hm?”
“You sleep to see into the future, but of what use is the future if you are not there to experience it yourself?”
“I am experiencing it,” they replied casually, “I’m experiencing it through my dreams.”
“That is not the same as in the flesh.”
“Guess we have differing ideas of what’s ‘experiencing it’ and what isn’t.” They remarked, "and besides, that way I can tell you what happens next before you experience it."
"That is all you talk to me of." He grumbled.
The two paused for a moment.
“I recall that you mentioned the realities you witness through your dreams are ones without you.” He began again, “I do not understand why you would wish to continue viewing such realities. Why waste your time with such menial visions when you could relish in the present with me?”
Y/N turned to fully meet Predaking’s gaze—the once prideful and cocky look in his optics had faded and given way to a confused and hurt look, veiled by an attempt to look indifferent.
“Am I of any importance to you?” He questioned.
“Well of course you are.”
“Then why do I not feel that you are being sincere?” He rumbled.
“I understand that my recent actions aren’t really supporting what I have to say, but I promise that you are important to me,” they urged, “I’m sorry, Predaking, that I’ve been spending too much time sleeping rather than being around you. I promise you that after today I’ll try my best to do better for you and for us.”
He didn’t look completely convinced, but, a small sliver of hope was seen in his optics.
“How about we spend some time together? Right now? We could go out for a walk,” They offered, “if you aren’t busy?”
“That… Would be pleasant.” He replied, scooping them up into his hands before drawing himself to full height.
“Yeah, it beats staying in a noisy ship.” They added on the way out the door—
Well, that's how he hoped it could turn out, but reality was always more disappointing than his hopeful fantasies. He couldn't tell them, not now, not while they still slept away—contrary to his imaginary version of them—left completely undisturbed by all the noise outside unlike he was.
With a low growl, he stood up and sauntered out of the habsuite. A nice change of scenery would relieve him from all the annoying noise, with or without their company.
#tfp imagines#tfp scenarios#tfp x reader#tfp predaking#predaking x reader#x reader#reader insert#self insert#weenwrites
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I wrote a good chunk of these during my free time at school and only now getting to it.
Being in a relationship with Von Kaiser [GN! Reader]
Kaiser has a rough time understanding other people - So he doesn’t really catch on to any subtle hints that someone might like him and/or needs his affection. Plus, he didn’t come from an openly affectionate home, and to top it off, has zero dating experience. Most of the time, it flies past him, despite how obvious it may seem to the people around him. So you have to be direct with him - otherwise, he ain’t got a clue in his mind about you.
He doesn’t really enjoy physical affection - both giving and especially receiving it. Kaiser turns as stiff as a board when you hug him and kissing makes his hair stand out [not the good kind of standing out either]. The most he can handle is holding hands and even then that depends on whether or not he had a good day. Once the relationship deepens he is more open to being doted on but still, the uneasy feeling never fully goes away.
While Kaiser isn’t terribly great with words, he doesn’t hide his feelings and thoughts from his partner either. If you ask for his opinion on something, he's going to be completely honest about it. Even if it does perhaps hurt your feelings - which will most definitely cause some fights between the two of you. Kaiser doesn't mean to hurt you, he’s simply saying what he believes is true. [A true man doesn’t lie!] Just means his praise and love are more meaningful.
While he’s not big on stuff like protecting cuddling or sweet whispers - he has little ways of showing his love and appreciation. If you mention needing something, he’s immediately buying it and gifting it to you - Helping out with your load of chores, etc.
If anyone so much as even pinches you, Kaiser is punching the lights out of them. Doesn’t matter if he knows you can handle those situations just fine, he’s still
Kaiser follows a strict schedule where he awakes at six and passes out by ten. It shall not be stopped by anyone, even his partner - who he keeps waking up due to his loud ass stomping. While he prefers them to follow at least a similar schedule - he doesn’t care what his partner does, as long as his own schedule is remotely unchanged.
Ideal date; Oh A nice walk in the park where the weather is nice - siKE Our boy Kaiser fully believes that working out together is the perfect date and while to some, it is, you forget that Kaiser likes pushing his own and his workout partner's limits. May God help your soul.
[a rare friend additional hc cause it made me chuckle; But he still invites that one dude [Glass Joe] so his bud just sits there while Kaiser and y/n make goo-goo eyes while doing sit-ups]
It still a bit awkward for me posting stuff unprompted on this good ol’ site but I think i’m getting better at it - just a tiny bit :P
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For the ask game, either or both:
🗣 Share your favorite dialogue exchange.
🏝 Share your favorite description of a setting.
Hi and thank you for the asks! ❤️
🗣 Share your favorite dialogue exchange. Pluto asked this one too, and I love writing dialogue, so I have multiple favorites 😃 This is from a fic where Frankie visits Mac to ask for a favor.
Mac switched the camera view to show her the CAM boot on his left leg that was propped up on his coffee table. "Medical leave."
Frankie was horrified. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I'll be fine. I jumped off a... thing and landed badly."
"That thing was a moving train, and you're lucky you didn't break your neck." Jack couldn't help himself.
🏝 Share your favorite description of a setting. So, I don't remember why I wrote this except that it popped into my head fully formed one morning. I don't know where it's going, and this is all I've written so far.
The room was dark and quiet when Riley blinked her eyes open. A rare LA storm was pelting large raindrops against the windows. It fit the somber mood of the room almost too perfectly.
Her computer was set up on a tray table directly in her eye line, so she checked the progress of her tracking program. Disappointed but not surprised that it hadn't found Murdoc yet, she rolled her head to the right to check on the others.
Bozer was sprawled like a starfish on the bed closest to her. He alternated between snoring softly and mumbling about monster movie plots. It was kind of comforting, and she was grateful that he wasn't having nightmares about the last couple of days.
Mac was lying still and silent in the other hospital bed. The light above and behind his bed was on its dimmest setting, so his face was mostly in shadows, but she didn't need to see it to know that he was unconscious. He'd been out since they found him in Murdoc's latest torture room two days before, more than halfway dead from dehydration and sepsis.
Jack sat beside Mac's bed, between him and the door. He'd been asleep the last time Riley woke but was awake now. He was leaning forward, holding Mac's hand with his left while slowly running his right up and down Mac's arm. As usual, Jack was telling a story, but it was almost too low for her to hear. She caught snatches of it, something about a cow and a fence and a chase.
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POV Smut - Alastor
Giving something new a shot here. It's been well over two decades since I last wrote fan fiction of any kind. For those that aren't familiar, Alasor is The Radio Demon from the adult cartoon Hazbin Hotel out now on Prime. I've been writing fairytale and original erotica though since 2006, and have published several pieces, but this is the first time I've really let my brain run wild with fan fiction since the early 2000s. I hope you enjoy it.
Plot: Alastor wants you... bad. But not just as a one-night stand. He wants to make a deal to keep you as his personal toy. And the kicker is...you want it just as bad.
UPDATE:
PART 2 - ALASTOR's PERSPECTIVE
My partner and I collaborated on an alternate perspective for this story. In the alternate, its told from Alastor's perspective, so if you are curious what was going through his mind, you can read it here. Enjoy!
NEW: fully dramatized audio version with sound effects now on Artistic Edge Magazine - Illustration with text and audio on Patreon!
Alastor Fucks You
It’s 2am. Sleep rarely comes these days. I can’t stand the light of the TV, but I need something to calm my nerves while I try to relax.
I turn on the radio, thinking to myself, “Such an old-fashioned thing,” as I stand at the counter, making myself a drink. I slide my fingers along the glass as the condensation drips along the side. Ice-cold wetness creates a stark contrast from the heat of my skin thanks to the anxiety raging within.
The radio noise is soothing. An antique really, yet the only thing that quiets the static in my head.
The glow from the arched, darkened wood and small dials show its age with regular use. The radio was one of the only things my grandmother managed to save from a fire long ago. Its precious to me.
The crackle in the speakers creates a ghostly, haunting sound to the melody coming through like velvet for the soul. The voices always seem as if they are from a far off time.
I lean against the counter as I take a long sip from my glass. The warmth of the liquid heats me from within as I close my eyes and allow the music to drift into my mind. My escape from this world.
As I drift off, I hardly notice the music crackle, as if the dial is shifting.
“Damn it…” I mutter as I turn to adjust the dial slightly to catch the frequency of my station once more. I turn and tinker, until at last a signal is caught. “Finally…” I sigh as the sounds going through are clearly from a time long past. The 1920s? 30s maybe? It doesn’t matter to me as long as it's on and I can drift into oblivion while I sip my drink in peace.
A new voice hits the radio, “It’s my pleasure to introduce to you…”
“Alllaasstor…”
The voice doesn’t come from the radio, but near my ear. My eyes snap open and I look around the room.
Empty.
My heart speeds up. The voice sounds so close that I can feel the heat of breath on my cheek.
I set my glass down and look around the room, “Alastor…” I say in a deep breath, my eyes scan the room for something amiss.
That name. I know the name. In a far off distant place in the back of my mind I’m reminded of that name. A legend of the radio demon.
It must have been my nerves. I lean back against the counter once more. It was nothing. You’re just exhausted. Everything is fine. Sip your drink and relax.
The lights flicker and my eyes widen as my body goes rigid. “What the fuck was that?!”
For a moment the lights go out. As they come back on, they glow with a deep crimson, as if the light itself was washed in blood.
I close my eyes hard for a moment to try and shake myself awake. When I open them, a set of almond shaped eyes stare directly back at me, glowing yellow and red, piercing into me with sharp precision just above a wide grin filled with razor sharp teeth, leading up to a mix of red and black unruly hair and two pointed stag-like ears.
His body is broad, tall, and dominant. My body goes stiff as I gasp as if it were to be my very last breath.
A small growl emanates from the creature's throat filled with primal need and hunger. He’s dressed in a red-pinstripe suit, as if he had just stepped off set in a gangster film. He smells of earth and moss with a tang of something darker and unholy.
My mind snaps to the legend of such a creature. A demon that picked the damned to be their toys. He would promise riches and dreams in exchange for your soul and devotion to his every need. I flushed at the memory of how I would fantasize about him… I imagined being wanted so desperately that he would sneak into my room and take me; my demon lover.
My body arches as if it was no longer my own body, and I feel a tendril of darkness caress me like a tentacle, snaking its way up my thigh, between my legs, around my waist, over my breasts, and along my neck forcing my head back as the demon stepped closer.
“Mmm… you smell delicious” his voice is more like a grown as he speaks into my ear, his cheek nearly touching mine as his body presses me into the counter. My back arches slightly more, exposing my breasts to him in instant reaction. My core heats and melts between my legs as I feel him, solid, hard, and muscular under his suit press harder against my body. I want him to take me, to devour me.
He brushes the side of his clawed hand down my cheek as his other grips my hip, pulling me hard against him. I feel his cock like steel under his pinstriped suit pulse and beg to be released as he pushes against my entrance. I press back hard in response to show my strength, need, and desire, pulling my head forward and smiling at him with an equally devious grin.
“What a darling specimen you are, my dear.” He purrs into my neck.
I allow a small whimper to escape my lips before I let out a small chuckle. “Allasstor…” I breathe hotly, eyes going heavy and lidded as the demon pushes even harder against me. I can feel every inch of him, the tip of his cock nearly up to my navel.
His grin contorts into something more demonic. His body expands as if it grows slightly and horns begin to lengthen from just between his deer-like crimson ears. I can feel the electricity in the room as Alastor's strength grows.
“You have such a lovely voice… maybe I should broadcast your screams tonight for all of hell to hear while I fuck that needy little cunt." His voice is demanding, harsh, and yet filled with needs of his own.
I dig my nails harder into the counter, my own grin widening with anticipation. He may be a demon, but he has never encountered someone like me. “Or maybe it’s your screams they’ll hear, Radio Demon?”
“Oooo… I love that demonic little mouth of yours. I’d like it even more if it were wrapped around my cock. Or maybe I’ll just bend you over this counted and fuck that delightful little pussy instead?”
With a harsh grip he flips me over against the counter, pushing me down with one hand while the other wraps around my waist and presses me up against him. His cock is so hard I can feel every inch against my backside, wanting release.
“I’ll admit I haven’t encountered someone like you… a moral with quite so much… fire.” he purrs into my ear. Every breath is like he's breathing me in, grinding against me.
I reach back and feel his cock. As I do, he growls with a low, sadistic rumble. “Be careful, girl. I’m the monster you were warned about.” The ache in my clit and wetness dripping down my legs is nearly more than I can bare. I want to feel his power, his length, and his body inside me, slamming deep into me.
I purr back, “You're the monster I want.” A shudder runs through Alastor as he digs one hand’s nails into my hips, drawing blood, and I feel his other ripping my jeans from my body with one motion, my panties falling in shreds a top them. He flips me back to face him and quickly shreds my top and bra to the floor, his eyes scanning my naked body hungrily, noticing the wetness dripping from between my legs, “Perfect…” he growls.
Like a wolf, he attacks, licking and biting my neck, growls imitating from his chest, as he paws, scratches, and grips me. I arch in ecstasy, my body absorbing his power as he grinds against me, moaning and needing every bit he wants to give.
He takes a moment to rip off his shirt, his pants dropping to the ground, and I’m able to see his fall body, scar covered and muscular, filled with more power than any creature should possess, and a cock like steel dripping and pulsing begging for release. I part my legs slightly, grinning with a sinister smile, and say with a purr, “Let’s give listeners a show they’ll never forget.”
Alastor slams the full length of his cock into me, my slickness melting around him, pussy engulfing his mass, and I feel him shudder. He thrusts over and over as if he hasn’t experienced something so primal in so long. I can feel the blood rising in me as he hits the most sensitive parts of my core, his body slamming not just into me, but against my clit, making me whimper and moan, “Al.. Alastor…oh fuuuckk..”
He continues to thrust, unrelenting in his fucking. His mind lost, his body on overdrive, and I relished in the fact that I could bring a demon to the brink. Alastor's voice is savage, and ragged, like an animal in heat and desperate for relief. He moans and howls like a beast as he verges on the edge of release.
“Yess… such a perfect little demon whore… needy little cunt…” his hand drifts to my neck, “You’re mine. All mine…”
“Yes… I am yours…” I can hardly get the words out as I feel the climax build. The world fades away and I am this…this feeling of pure ecstasy ready to explode into oblivion.
“Is it a deal?” His face contorts to its true demonic form, his cock swelling inside me so much I feel as if I’ll burst. My body is over the edge and I cum like a gushing fountain, losing all control and sanity and I scream “Yes! Yes!”
Alastor’s control is gone and he releases himself, shuddering, trembling, filling me until I overflow with him. I can feel hot liquid splashing out of me, down my legs, and even up my belly as he continues to cum over and over.
It feels like hours until I finally open my eyes. I’m no longer in my kitchen, but in a dark room, leaning against a desk. A wall of windows overlooking what appears to be hell is across from me. I blink and look into Alastor’s satiated glowing eyes. He smiles, “Welcome to hell, my darling. Your deal starts now and my listeners will want more.” I wrap my legs around his scarred waist and pull him to me, sinking my tongue into his delicious mouth. “Best not to disappoint them then.”
Want more?
Check out the Master List here.
#blurbs#blurb#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#hazbin hotel x reader smut
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Ranked Genshin Character Preferences: Clinginess
Not a request, just a quick little something I wrote to try and get my writing-juices flowing! You’re welcome to send in ranked/most-to-least requests similar to this, as they’re quite easy, can be done quickly, and help me flesh out how to write characters~
Warnings: not proofread
Prefers a more Independent S/O
Xiao - I’ve said it before and I‘ll say it again, romance needs to move at HIS pace. It’s...flattering, in a way, to be so wanted. He hasn’t experienced that in a long time. But it’s a lot to process when Xiao’s already dealing with relearning his own feelings and boundaries. Later in a relationship, this will change, but for a while there Xiao just prefers you lay off the neediness and take it slow.
Rosaria - When she’s on the clock, you really need to lay off. She’s got work to do, and no, she’s not interested in giving you the details. It’s nothing you need to worry your pretty, innocent head over. That said, when she’s off the clock she’s a little more forgiving about any clinginess.
Albedo - He doesn’t specifically dislike clinginess, but it’s highly counter-productive to his work if you can’t learn to control yourself. He does enjoy feeling wanted, but things are just easier if you can wait for him to come to you.
Kaeya - Kaeya is a man of secrets and privacy, and he likes it that way. With time, he’ll open up about some things on his own...and as cute as he thinks your clinginess is, it can be frustrating for him to work his privacy needs around it. Similar to Rosaria, he prefers if you wait until he’s done with work.
Chongyun - Mostly for the sake of his health and work. He enjoys your company greatly, and doesn’t mind if you follow him around as long as he’s not going into anything too dangerous, but prefers if you don’t seek direct affection until he’s settling down for the day.
Diluc - For Diluc, it’s not so much a matter of his own wants and needs, but yours. He’s a busy man, and while he would do his best to accommodate clinginess, he would inevitably start to worry about whether it’s enough. If you’re more on the aloof side, it avoids these concerns.
Prefers a more Clingy S/O
Ayaka - Even though she’s very busy, and feels guilty for not spoiling you enough, she can’t ever get upset at you--the clinginess just makes her feel so loved and wanted. She’s fully aware of being needed on a professional level, but being needed on a personal level...gives her a special sense of fulfillment.
The Traveler - They feel so guilty about it--either you’re left waiting for them while they go off to find their sibling, or you’re put in danger while following them--but they love so so much that your arms are always excitedly open to them. (It’s probably got something to do with a newfound abandonment issue, but don’t bring that up to them.)
Bennett - He loves having an adventuring partner again! you’re much more than that, of course...a very special adventuring partner. He won’t ever shoo you away willingly, but does ok if you have to go off on your own for a while.
Razor - Razor just likes having you close, plain and simple. Your clinginess is rarely an issue; he likes feeling like your protector, your provider, and he’s never lonely with you around.
Noelle - She’s a busy gal with a tendency to overwork herself, but she can’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling she gets when her beloved has an emotional itch only Noelle can scratch. Please forgive her if she’s too tired to stay awake when you come calling.
Zhongli - Functionally, he’s about like Diluc and can work with either type of S/O easily, but he won’t deny enjoying having someone special steadfast at his side again.
#genshin x reader#xiao x reader#ayaka x reader#zhongli x reader#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#chongyun x reader#albedo x reader#rosaria x reader#traveler x reader#razor x reader#bennett x reader#noelle x reader#ranked#crownwrites
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Stay
Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky loves to cuddle, he’s especially clingy in the mornings.
Warnings: none? A mention of sex? Pure fluff and just soft, lovey Bucky.
A/N - this is pretty short, basically a drabble, I just love the idea of Bucky being clingy and needy. And also cuddling, just cuddling Bucky is something so perfect to me. I haven’t wrote in a while or updated my series so hopefully this makes up for it. Also I’m weak asf bc im posting this while I’m at the doctors office lmao
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Your eyes fluttered open slightly, letting the early morning light shine in them a bit. You were just regaining consciousness, still feeling tired though. You almost let sleep take you back until you felt a tightness against your waist and a solid wall against your back, which was enough to bring you to your senses. You opened your eyes fully, and tried to stretch a bit with a soft yawn, but you couldn’t move much from the arms and legs you were wrapped up in. You smiled softly to yourself before you felt your boyfriend’s head nuzzle into the side of your neck.
“Bucky, you awake, baby?” You whispered gently
“Mhm.” He replied, his hum deep and groggy while he slightly nodded his head against your neck. There wasn’t even a centimeter of space between the two of you yet you tried to snuggle yourself further into him with a smile.
This was something you surely wanted to enjoy as long as possible. Waking up, being held tightly to him was something rare yet near heavenly. You’d only been dating for about a month at this point so it wasn’t often that you slept together. Only a very few times such as when he’d had a nightmare or the one time he stayed in bed with you after sex. There would certainly be more where this came from but you wanted to enjoy it nonetheless.
You felt his warm breath brush against your skin, you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. He moved his hand to your breast and started to rub his fingers into it lightly, yet innocently. You were settled into it, very comfortably, when you got the unfortunate feeling of having to pee.
“Hey, buck?”
“Hm?”
“I gotta pee, can you let me up for a second?” You spoke softly, still in the same position with your eyes closed.
“No, stay.” He grumbled, wrapping his leg further around you and pulling you so close to him he was nearly smothering you.
“Buck…” You whined, trying to wiggle a little bit to get free of him, which you knew was pointless because of his extreme strength. “Let me up please.”
He groaned and flipped you over to where he was now laying on top of you completely. He kissed your neck softly before burying his head there once again. “Nope. Wanna hold you.”
It was kind of funny, really. The man who was constantly a scowling grouch, that never let people touch him, was now a soft teddy bear, refusing to let go of you. You weren’t surprised of course, but to anyone else it’d be a sight to see.
You couldn’t deny that you liked this right now, his heavy body on top of you felt almost like a weighted blanket. He was so warm too, even with the bit of cool metal against your skin. It would’ve been pure bliss if it wasn’t for the fact that your need to pee increased by the minute.
“Please? I promise I’ll be right back and we can cuddle for as long as you want.” You nearly begged, it becoming a little bit too hard to hold in.
He groaned and rolled over on to his back, freeing you from his grasp. Before you got up he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Better keep that promise, doll.”
And of course you did, merely a couple minutes later, you crawled right back in to bed. You positioned yourself between his legs and laid your upper body on his torso, your head right in the center of his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you once again and kissed the top of your head before resting his chin on it. He brought one hand to your hair and sweetly began to play with it. You just laid calmly, listening to the beat of his heart, before you both dozed off once again.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x avenger!reader#soft bucky barnes#cuddling#cuddles#fluff#drabble#soft!bucky#sweet bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n
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You Make It Better | h.s.
warnings: DEPRESSION, i apologize if i do not portray it correctly, i wrote what i could figure out from the internet. if this triggers you PLEASE DO NOT READ OR READ WITH CAUTION, nudity (? idk they shower together), very cheesy sorry
a/n: this is something i wish i had rn because even thought i’m not diagnosed and definitely think am depressed so ig that is where this came from. please, if you ever need someone to talk to, my messages are always open and i have no life so i’ll answer as soon as i can, asks (anonymous too) are always open. also i’m bad at endings so excuse that. (and writing his accent but we’ll ignore that)
word count: 2.9k
feedbacks/reblogs appreciated
masterlist
It was a late Saturday morning when you realized it was going to be a really hard day with your depression. You had woken up earlier than Harry, which was very rare. His arm was tucked between your neck and the pillow, hand laying softly on your arm, your head just below the right swallow tattoo on his chest, the inked butterfly on his stomach stretching with every even breath he took in his sleep.
It wasn’t much longer until he eventually woke up, his fingers suddenly grazing your arm as he fully opened his eyes to look at you. He lets out a guttural groan, stretching his legs under the blanket.
“G’mornin’ lovie,” he said groggily, voice rough as he bends down to press a light kiss to your hair. You don’t move, only your nail lightly scratching his side. His face scrunches up in confusion, and you knew if you were to look up at him you would burst out in tears just from how cute he is. “(y/n)?” He asked, moving down on the bed to be face to face with you. “You okay, baby?” His nose nudged yours, but again, you don’t react. You don’t even look him in the eyes.
All you do is shrug to his question, a little hum falling past your lips.
Then it struck him, and you see the exact moment when it does. But his face doesn’t change to a sympathetic look, he doesn’t frown at you with a sorry look.
Instead, he gives you a small and sleepy smile and pushes a strand of your hair away from your face. He scoots closer to you, moving you to sit on his lap, his boxers laying low on his hips, his inked fern leaves peeking through.
“Another one of those days?” He asked quietly as he moved to put his head right next to yours, his eyes looking up at you.
“Yeah.” You mumble, reaching over to grab the pendant of his necklace, rubbing the green cross with your soft finger.
“How bad?”
You continue to drag your finger over his cross pendant, eyes fixated his chest hairs. You sigh heavily before parting to answer. “Nine.”
“Hmm.” He kissed your forehead. “What made it a little betta’?”
You finally looked up at him, his emerald eyes still had a glassy look, still not fully awake. You’re hesitate to speak, your mouth opening and closing, thinking whether or not you should say what’s on your mind.
Very early in your relationship, you told Harry that it was hard for you to open up to people. You told him your illness made you feel like a burden towards everyone you know, you told him that there may be days where you wouldn’t want to see him because you’d feel like you're getting in the way.
But unlike the other people you’ve been with, he understood and was patient with you. And even though there were days that got really bad, he stayed by your side.
“You can talk to me, baby.” Harry took your hand that was holding his pendant, his finger grazing the skin of your thumb.
Your lips slightly quirk up, but not enough to really show that you were happy. But he could see it.
“You make it better.” You maneuver your hand that was in his to now hold his hand, bringing it closer to your chest and play with his ringless fingers.
When he doesn’t say anything, you look up at him worriedly, scared you’ve said the wrong thing.
But when you do, his face was the definition of happy. He was smiling so wide, his dimples were showing. There was a light hue on his cheeks, bringing his face to life.
You wish you could be that happy right now.
He brought you closer to his chest and pressed his lips to your matted hair. “Wanna just stay in bed all day?” You nod against his chest. “Whatever you want, love.” His arms tightened around you, bringing you impossibly closer, giving you a silent message of I’m here for you.
“Do you want something to eat? Some tea, maybe?” He asked sweetly as he started to pull away, his feet hitting the wooden flooring on your shared bedroom.
You looked up at him, hesitating to answer, but his fingers scratch your scalp in encouragement, his green eyes looking down at you sweetly. “Could-” you hesitate. “Could I just have some tea, please? Peppermint, if we have any.”
He nodded, bending down to press to place a kiss to your nose. “Anything to eat?”
You shake your head and bring the duvet to your face.
Before he can get too far, you grab his hand, getting his attention as he starts to walk away. “What’s up, baby?”
“Can I have a kiss?” you asked shyly, afraid he’ll reject you.
Instead of answering, he just leans down to peck your lips, but you hold his jaw and keep his close.
You give him one last peck before you pull away slightly, lips bruised to a pink color, faces still close.
You peck him one last time then back away, bringing the duvet to your chin.
“Don’t be too long.” You mumble.
He chuckled and kissed your head before walking out of the room.
•••
He comes back a couple minutes later, two mugs in his hands, a banana in between his lips.
You sit up against the headboard, the duvet just under your stomach that’s covered in one of Harry's old striped shirts.
“Thank you.” You mumble as you take the pastel orange mug from Harry’s hand.
You both sit quiet as you sip at your hot beverage, Harry offering you a bite of his banana after a while, but you decline.
Harry takes your empty cup and leaves it on his side table, the banana peel hanging from the rim of his mug.
“Do you wanna do anything?” He asked beside you, taking your hand in his.
“Ca-” You hesitate, scared he’ll say no or you feel like you're being selfish for what you're about to ask. “Can we just cuddle?” You asked with a pout, looking down at your lap.
He lets out a little giggle, getting under the white duvet. “I’d never say no to your cuddles.”
He pulls you close to his chest, the hair on his legs tickling your silky ones. His tattooed arm comes to lay over your stomach.
After a while, your eyes begin to sting, your sight becoming blurry, tears falling down your cheeks.
Harry seems to feel your salty tears fall on his chest. He plays with the ends of your hair and then rubs your arm. “Let it out, baby.”
Your shoulders shake as you sob, uncontrollable tears falling down your cheeks.
Harry held you tighter as you hiccuped, breath evening, eyes shutting as you fall asleep.
•••
When you woke up, the room was drastically darker. Harry’s side lamp was the only source of light.
Harry’s torso was against the headboard, one hand tangled in your hair, the other holding up a book as his eyes scan every word on the page.
When you shuffle under his touch, he closes his book and lays it by his side. “Hi.” He leans down to kiss your head, his hand now by your waist, playing with the hem of your (his) shirt you’re wearing that has risen up.
“What were you reading?” you asked meekly after you yawn, moving your arm across his fern tattoos.
“Love is a mixtape.”
“You love that book.” Your head moves up and down with his chest as he laughs. “Can you read some to me?”
“Sure, baby.”
•••
He had read a chapter or two when you realized, a small gasp leaving your lips. “Weren’t you supposed to go to the studio today?” You held up your weight against your arm, your hand digging into the mattress under you.
Your face scrunched up in guilt, your mind racing with the thought of getting in the way of Harry’s music, never wanting to be the reason he stopped working.
He just hums and and folders the corner of the page he was on before closing the book and leaving it on his side table. “I called Jeff when I was making the tea that I wasn’t going to make it today.”
“But why? You were excited to-”
“No one that matters, baby. There was no way I would’ve left you here by yourself.”
“I would’ve been fi-”
“No, you wouldn’t have and you know it.” His voice changed completely, more firm and stern than how he was talking earlier today. “Baby,” he started, he shifted in his spot on the mattress, turning completely towards you, taking your hands in his. You’ve always loved when you held hands. Loved to feel the comparison in size from your to his and your thumb always grazed his cross tattoo. You always get butterflies when he touches you, and that hasn’t changed since the beginning of your relationship that felt like so long ago.
“It’s okay to not be okay. I know it’s a struggle and everyday I wish I could take this pain from you, but I can’t. The best I can do is be there for you and hold you. And you may feel like you don’t deserve it, but you do. You deserve happiness and more. You may feel like every little thing you do bothers me and others but you don’t. I love you with my entire being, (y/n), and I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me.”
You scoff through foggy eyes, but his dimples and freckles are still prominent in your vision.
“In the rare times that we’re not together and I’m with other people, the first thing people ask me is how you’re doing. Shit, I even get asked about you in interviews and fans I meet on the street ask about you.”
You’re full on sobbing now, his pretty words too much to handle, an overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude and happiness filling your chest.
“You’re not a burden, baby.” He said softly as he pulled you into his lap, his rough fingertips sipping the salty tears from under your eyes. “Say it, please.”
You take in a shaky breath, but an even, firm breath comes out, the ache in your chest a lot lighter, less painful. You lick your chapped lips before speaking, “I’m not a burden.”
His lips press to your temple, the warm skin. You both cry, holding each other tighter than what you thought was possible. You nuzzle your face into his neck, breathing his warmth and scent.
He sighs and gingerly kisses your forehead, his finger twirling the ends of your hair.
“Wanna go take a shower?” Harry asked, your legs tangled with his under the comforter. “We can watch a movie or something after, yeah?” He pushed back the stray hairs that had fallen out of your ponytail, the tie loosening its grip on your hair as you moved around the bed throughout the day.
“Yeah.” you mumble, eyes droopy again, energy slowly fading as the sun faded from the sky.
“C’mon, baby.” He wiggles away from you, standing on the side of the bed, his hand out for you to grab.
You move the duvet off you, goosebumps forming on your exposed legs and arms because you were only wearing one of Harry’s old shirts.
He takes your hand as you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, your feet softly landing on the wooden flooring of your bedroom.
Harry raises your intertwined hands and tenderly pressed his lips to the back of your hand, his dimples smile forming when he sees a blush form on your cheeks. “C’mon, love.” He leads you towards the bathroom, quickly turning on the light.
You walk behind him as he makes his way further in, opening the glass door of the shower to turn on the water, letting it get warm before he turns around to you.
He lifts his own shirt up, exposing his tattooed chest. “You too, love.” He chuckled at you as you just stood there in front of him.
He drops his shirt before tugging at the hem of yours, his eyes looking into yours for approval. You give him a small nod before he brings it up your torso.
He helps you undress the rest of the way, which was quick because you only had your underwear left.
You stayed close as Harry quickly undressed. The butterfly on his stomach expanded as he took in a deep breath, his hand reaching towards you again to lead you to the spraying shower.
The foggy glass door springs open and Harry steps aside for you. “Ladies first.”
Harry’s hand leaves yours to lay it on your back as you step into the steaming shower.
•••
Harry just finished washing your hair, his fingers raking through your wet strands, his chin resting on top of your head. Your hands mindlessly run up and down his back, your cheek against the swallow tattoo on his chest.
His thumb rubs against the side of your face, catching your attention. You look up to his green eyes looking down at you already, his dimples lightly denting his cheeks. “You’re pretty.” He spoke softly, his eyes shifting around your face.
You sheepishly look down at his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly tattoo on his stomach.
He chuckles at your shyness and kisses your forehead. Even though you can’t see it, he looks at you like you hung the moon, he looks at you like a goddess even though you have demons on your shoulders. “Which one’s your favorite?” He whispered in your ear before pressing his lips to it.
You hummed as you leaned back, Harry’s hands on your hips still keeping you close. Your eyes scanned his body, your mind at battle.
You suddenly lift yourself up on your toes, holding on to his shoulders for leverage as you look at the tattoos that cross over, inching close to his back muscles.
“The little guitar doodle, thing.” You said before you unknowingly let out a little giggle, you finger lightly grazing the darkened skin.
“There’s that laugh.” He spoke softly, a small grin widening on his face. His emerald eyes shining in adoration. “I missed it.” His fingers curl the ends of your hair. Your hands move to his face, delicately holding his gorgeous face against yours.
“I love you. Thank you.” You said quietly, tears fogging your sight.
He shakes his head without hesitation, wet curls falling between you. “Nothing to thank me for.” He lifted his head to press a hard kiss on your nose, making a small giggle leave your lips. “There’s that beautiful sound again.” He roughly kissed under your eye, your giggles getting louder. He pecks the corner of your lips before migrating slightly to nip at your pink lips.
Your shoulders relax as you sigh into the kiss, your fingers lightly grazing the skin on Harry's shoulder, his around your waist, giving you a small squeeze.
The warm water cascades behind you, flowing through your hair and falling down to your feet.
He slowly pulls away, so slow that it seemed like he didn’t really want to pull away. Wet strands of his hair fall into his face, your fingers quickly leaving his shoulder to rake them back. “Wanna finish up and get to bed?” He asked quietly, his chipped fingernails faintly grazing the skin of your hip.
You nod, backing up as Harry moved closer to turn off the water behind you. The steamy glass door opens with a pop, Harry’s feet stepping onto the white floor mat to grab towels hanging on the wall. He quickly wraps one around his waist, droplets of water descending down his inked frame, some falling down from his hair onto his shoulder.
You slowly step out of the shower beside Harry, grabbing the towel from his hands and unfolding it to dry your hair and body before wrapping it around yourself.
“Do you want one of my shirts, love?” He asked as he walked out to the bathroom (still completely wet with a water trail behind him) to his dresser, looking through his casual wardrobe.
“If it’s okay with you.” You stayed in the bathroom, watching him move around the bedroom.
“Of course, lovie. That’s why I offered.” He comes in front of you to hand you some clothes, just a pair of his boxers and his old ‘Hot n Hard’ shirt. “Always want you in my clothes. He pecks your nose and pulls away, a small dimple piercing his cheek as he smirked. “Also like you with no clothes.”
You narrowed your eyes at him and pushed at his shoulder, shaking your head at him.
By the time you slid on the shirt he gave you, he was leaning against the doorframe, pink boxers hanging loosely under the fern tattoos. “Can I help with your skincare?” He asked shyly, his cheeks turning the same color as his boxers.
You don’t hesitate to nod, stepping farther into the bathroom to let him in.
He pats the counter, his other hand going to your back. “Sit for me, baby.”
You jumped onto the counter, silently watching him as he gathered your different products, you had too many to count (and didn’t need).
You sat quietly as you watched his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out of his lips. His rough fingers gingerly patting stuff on your face, laughing at your whines when he was dragging down your face instead of smoothing up. “It’ll give me wrinkles!” You groaned.
So now he’ll do the same with his skin.
What? He doesn’t want wrinkles either.
•••
yay!!!
@chillingonlife @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @letsgoparty-ah-ah-ah-yeah @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack (i know some of you probably only meant the instagram things but i hope this is okay)
(lmk if you want to be added/taken off taglist)
#now that i think about it i don’t really like this :(#reblogs are appreciated#harry styles#harry styles au#harry styles blurb#harry styles concept#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagines#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry edward styles#harry styles angst#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles one shot#imagine harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles smut#harry styles stories#harry styles series#harry styles drabble#my writing
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Do you think we could get a part 2 to that daichi fic you wrote earlier? I’d love to see how the team reacted 😅
Ummmmmm . . . YES! That fic was so fun to write, you can absolutely get a part 2. Coming right up!
Read part 1 here → Thick Thighs Save Lives
Read part 3 here →Thick Thighs Save Lives Part 3
Thick Thighs Save Lives Part 2
Rating: PG
Warnings: none - just fluff
“Ahem.”
Woken by the sudden clearing of someone’s throat, you inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of Daichi’s body wash and clothing detergent overwhelming your senses and bringing a slight smile to your face. As comforting as the scent had been to fall asleep to, it was even more comforting to wake up to.
Eyes still shut, you were so focused on how comfortable you were with Daichi’s thigh between your own and his warm body pressed against yours, that you had completely forgotten what had woken you in the first place. Snuggling further into him, you grabbed a fistful of the hem of his shirt and attempted to drift back to sleep for a little while.
“AHEM!”
This time, whoever was clearing their throat made it clear that they were trying to wake you. That’s when it hit you—you and Daichi had fallen asleep tangled together among the entire volleyball team, and now, everyone was awake except for the two of you.
You felt your heart start to pound harshly against your chest. You debated whether you should continue to pretend to be asleep or open your eyes and face the music, but before you had to make a decision one way or the other, the large figure wrapped around your own began to stir.
“What is wrong with you?” You heard Daichi ask, surprisingly unbothered by his teammates and the managers catching the two of you in this position. “It’s still early. Can’t you see she’s still sleeping? Why are you being so loud?”
There was a moment of silence before anyone answered. “S-sorry, Captain.” Tanaka’s voice finally responded. “We were just . . . why didn’t you tell us the two of you were together?”
“Yeah,” you heard Suga and Asahi agree.
“Because we’re not,” Daichi told them, surely earning at least a couple of confused looks because he quickly followed it up with, “Let’s not discuss this now, okay? Why don’t you guys start making breakfast? You help yourselves to the food in my kitchen often enough to know where everything is.”
A few seconds later, you heard the sound of a series of shuffling feet heading out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving just you and Daichi among the discarded pillows and blankets. You could hear muffled voices coming from the kitchen, no doubt discussing what they had just witnessed, but since you couldn’t make out what they were saying, you were able to calm down a little.
“Don’t worry about them,” Daichi whispered to you, knowing you were awake and that you had heard everything. “I should apologize. I meant to wake up before them and shift into a less awkward position.”
You smiled softly and shook your head, dismissing his concern. “Don't apologize. You were just being nice. I appreciate it.”
Slowly, and with what you thought you recognized as a small tinge of sadness in his eyes, Daichi pulled his thigh out from between yours and released you from the gentle embrace he had captured you in sometime during the night. “Get some more sleep,” he told you, quickly taking the pillow he had been using for his head and placing it between your legs where his own leg had been seconds before. “I’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”
“Okay,” you exhaled softly, pulling the blanket over your shoulders fully and relaxing the best you could. When Daichi left to join the others in the kitchen, however, you found yourself wondering about what this meant for you and the sweet volleyball captain. Did he like you as more than just a friend or was he really just trying to be nice and help you out in a time of need?
You would be lying if you said that sleeping next to him hadn’t been the best sleep you had had in ages, but then again, that wasn’t exactly an incredible feat considering the stress of upcoming exams had been affecting your quality of sleep in the past few weeks.
Choosing to push this problem to the back of your mind and deal with it at a later time, you focused on clearing your mind and before you knew it, had taken full advantage of the rare opportunity to sleep in and drifted off again.
You weren’t sure how long you had continued to rest, but when you woke for a second time that morning, the faint smell of food was present in the home and there was a distant sound of running water and what sounded like pots clanging off of one another.
Letting out a yawn and stretching out your limbs, you rose to your feet and made your way into the kitchen, surprised to see a single person standing by the sink instead of a whole volleyball team.
“Did everyone leave already?” you questioned.
Startled a little by your sudden presence, Daichi spun around from where he was doing the dishes. “You slept for another three hours,” he told you with a grin, “Plenty of time for me to feed everyone and send them on their way.”
“All the while dodging questions about us, I’m sure.” You climbed into one of the stools at the kitchen counter. “They are never going to leave us alone about that.”
“Probably not,” Daichi agreed with a chuckle as he grabbed a bowl of rice and eggs from the other side of the counter and slid it toward you. “I’m sure you’re hungry. I was going to wake you like I said I would, but I figured you could use the extra sleep—and I’m sure you’re happy to have avoided the third-degree from everyone. It might be a little cold by now though, so sorry about that.”
Taking the food gratefully, you smiled. “You keep apologizing for being considerate,” you commented. “Do you always do that or am I just special?”
“I-I don’t know how to answer that,” he replied truthfully.
You nodded before changing the subject, not wanting him to feel pressured into answering something he might not be comfortable with. “Well, either way, I’m grateful for the extra hours. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
“Because of your legs?”
You shrugged. “Sort of . . . upcoming exams has me pretty stressed, so that’s not helping, and then stress tends to make my legs ache even more. It’s weird . . . I wish I knew how to make it stop.”
Daichi nodded understandingly. “Well, you said a pillow usually helps.”
Shovelling some of the luke-warm food into your mouth, you chewed and swallowed before letting out a small scoff. “Well, apparently, an extra pillow isn’t always available,” you pointed out with an amused giggle.
You waited for Daichi to say something in response, but when he didn’t and instead returned to doing the dishes, you focused on eating the food in front of yourself. The two of you existed in silence in the kitchen for five more minutes, just enough time for him to finish cleaning and you to finish eating.
After rinsing the last pan, Daichi reached for your empty bowl and washed it quickly before setting it aside. Then, with a heavy sigh and arms crossed against his chest, he turned to look at you. “Was it weird that I did that?”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. “Did what?”
“Put my . . . my thigh between your legs,” he clarified. “Was that weird?”
You thought for a moment, utterly unsure how to answer that. You didn’t think it was weird, personally, but you weren’t sure if that was the correct response or not. “Do you think it was weird?” you asked in return, more curious about how he felt about it.
“No . . . well, not at the time, no. But now I’m not so sure. The others made some good points during breakfast—maybe it isn’t okay to be so close if we aren’t, you know . . . together.”
“If that’s how you feel about it, it can just be a one-time thing,” you assured him, hoping he felt like his feelings on the matter were valid. “A friend helping out a friend—it doesn’t need to be anything more than that.”
“Yeah,” he agreed before his eyes grew wide and his eyebrows furrowed together. “Wait, did you want it to be more than a one-time thing?”
“What? I didn’t say that.”
“The way you worded that just now made it sound like it can be a one-time thing if I want it to be,” he said. “Do you want it to be a one-time thing?”
You let out a groan. “This is confusing.” You folded your arms across the countertop and rested your head on them. “I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be, which is odd because of how confidently you played it all off up until this point. If I’m being honest, I haven’t slept that well in a very long time and I found your presence very comforting. That’s where I stand on the issue. The ball is now in your court.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“I mean, I liked it too . . . not in a weird way or anything,” he sighed, physically flustered and slowly turning red. “I’m sorry, I’m complicating things with my words.”
You smirked at him. “Then don’t use your words.”
At first, Daichi seemed even more puzzled, but then a wave of realization washed over him and suddenly, the cool and confident captain from the night before had returned.
Walking around to the other side of the counter, he approached you slowly before placing his hands on either side of your face and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your forehead. He then scooped you into his arms, earning a surprised shriek from you.
“What are you doing?” you questioned as he started carrying you out of the kitchen and down the hall. “What about your parents?”
“They’re away for the whole weekend,” was all he said before entering his room and placing you down on the bed.
Initially, you were nervous about where this was heading, but as soon as you caught a glimpse of Daichi’s warm, brown eyes and watched as he flashed you a comforting smile, you remembered that he always had nothing but the best intentions.
“I find your presence comforting too,” he explained as he crawled into the bed beside you. “Lie with me. Just . . . be with me.”
You couldn’t help but smile uncontrollably. “Okay,” you nodded and extended your arms out, making plenty of room for him between them. Just like the night before, he held you close and rested his chin on top of your head.
And just like the night before, he carefully slit his thigh between your legs. Then, he let out a sigh and you could feel his entire body relax.
“Daichi,” you chuckled lowly. “My legs don’t hurt right now.”
“I’m not doing this for you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. He left it at that, and before long, his breathing slowed and fell into a calming rhythm.
Despite the fact that you had just slept approximately 10 hours, you soon found your eyelids feeling heavy and the comfort of the bed and warmth of Daichi’s embrace lulling you back into a deep rest.
“Daichi?”
“Hmm?” he hummed.
“What does this mean?”
Instead of words, he first answered with his actions, just like you had told him to. Snaking one arm over your waist, he slipped a large hand under your shirt and place his palm flush against the middle of your back, fingers spread wide. He then used said hand to pull you even closer to his chest.
You drew in a shaky breath, the feeling of his broad hand on your small back bringing you an unexplainable sense of safety and relaxation.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered, “but we’ll figure it out later.”
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#hq daichi#daichi#sawamura daichi#daichi sawamura#fanfiction#fluff#lostinthewiind#reader#x reader#reader insert#reader imagine#daichi x reader#thick thighs save lives#sawamura daichi x reader#daichi sawamura x reader#part 2#request
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Morning kisses with the utapri boys - QUARTET NIGHT
A/N: Finally got some writing done after a super long hiatus! I'm sorry I haven't been posting much but I'm so happy to write for the boys again! Hopefully I can finish up the starish part by next week!
Yes I wrote this because it was 3am and I was feeling needy
MORNING KISSES WITH STARISH
Reiji:
Reiji doesn't sleep a lot, so he's pretty much always the first one to wake up. Sometimes he gently places a kiss on you before getting up to prepare breakfast, but on days he feels needy, he'll find himself lying in bed longer.
He loves admiring you, his heart swelling with happiness that he was lucky to have found you, and that he knew you loved him back as much as he did.
He'll carefully sweep your hair away from your eyes, and place a kiss on you so gently as if you were made of glass. Reiji will break out into the most contented smile and may go back for another kiss.
Ranmaru:
Ranmaru is a heavy sleeper, so you're often always up before him. You love combing your fingers through his silver hair as a smile spreads across your face, as cool as he was on stage, he looked so cute when sleeping.
When Ranmaru does wake up and you're still lying next to him, he'll greet you with a very husky, drowsy voice before placing a sleepy, sometimes sloppy kiss on you.
Not that you would complain though, you know he's often tired out from his schedules and is never fully awake in the morning. But also you are aware that he will properly shower you with kisses when he's more awake.
Ai:
Ai has the habit of waking up before you do, he can't help himself, he loves seeing your sleeping face. It was beautiful, and his favourite sight to take in every morning.
Gently, he will use a hand to hold your cheek as he places a kiss on you - either on your nose, forehead, or lips, depending on how needy he felt that day.
Often you would stir and gradually wake up, your face turning a bright red as you were greeted by your boyfriend's face at such a close proximity to yours. You would then greet him a 'good morning while proceeding to return the kiss he just gave you.
Camus:
Another heavy sleeper right here. But you found out the quickest way to wake your boyfriend was to brew his favourite tea. Eventually, Camus made it a habit to wake up around the same time as you, constantly pulling you into a hug so that he could snuggle longer.
Camus loves leaving kisses on your hands, he thinks that is the most respectful way to show that he loved you with his entire heart. So often he would raise your hand to his lips, planting a sweet kiss there (while you’re furiously blushing)
This doesn’t mean Camus doesn’t enjoy leaving kisses on other parts of your body. Some days, in addition to the hand kisses, you’ll find his lips on your forehead. And on very very rare occasions, his lips will meet with yours instead.
#uta no prince sama#utapri#quartet night#kotobuki reiji#kurosaki ranmaru#mikaze ai#camus#uta no prince sama scenarios#uta no prince sama imagines#utapri scenarios#utapri imagines#quartet night scenarios#quartet night imagines#utanoprince-imagines
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