#like whole ass mountain of gifts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azullumi · 1 month

Text

”know it’s for the better” ; aventurine

summary — memories come in waves and tonight, he’s drowning; the grief of his past haunts him and visits him in his dreams; alternatively, you comfort and assure him after his nightmare.

pairing — aventurine (w/gender-neutral reader)

warning — 2.1 QUEST SPOILERS (about his past)

tags — established relationship, angst with comfort, soft and kind of insecure aventurine, mentions of alcohol (he just drinks a glass that’s all), there’s some fluff if you squint, lots of metaphors, mentions of death, mentions of depressing and negative thoughts, all told and narrated in aventurine’s POV, i never proofread, 2.1k words ; one-shot

tagging — @toorurs !! dedicating this to you

note — this is what reading his character analysis, character essays, scene and dialogue interpretations, and his whole ass lore and dissecting each one of it does to you. day 3 of writing for him.

“kakavasha.”

he opens his eyes to the sight of his planet: seemingly empty, barren, as nothingness continues to stretch towards the horizon. there was nothing on this land but the stench of death and cruelty that lingers in the air—it was heavy, thick, as if the clouds were binding him down to the ground and forcing him to look at what once was. he could feel the ache in his chest, the feeling of familiarity starting to seep into gaps between his fingers, and the the lump starting to form in his throat.

he knew this place, the stones that surrounded him and the mountain that leered over him. he knew of this, was all too familiar with it—the sunken ground and disturbed dirt from when his sister knelt before him with tears in her eyes as she uttered her promise of reunion before she bid him her farewell (he’ll always carry her last words as if it was part of his existence). the memory plays in his mind all over again, the voice of his sister echoing:

“this is where we go our own way, kakavasha…”

“...this is a gift from gaiathra, and you are kakavasha, whose good fortune will bless your sister with success.”

“as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry. so run, kakavasha, do not be afraid, and do not look back…”

he could feel the rain starting to pour down on his form but he doesn’t run, he doesn’t move, he doesn’t seek for something that will shelter him from the cold. instead, he stands under the pouring rain with heavy shoulders and thoughts that seem to claw and scratch at him. no matter how much he tries to cover up and escape from his past, to run and run until his feet hurt, until he falls and crumbles to nothing, it will still haunt him. it chases after him; it hides in the corners of his room, behind the wallpapers, and amidst the settling dust and cobwebs, and it creeps up on tuesday mornings as he tries to revere the sun that once never shined on him. he’s always painfully reminded of the things that he has to carry—the weight of his sister who carries her parents, and who carries their parents.

“...the rain will accompany you, and the rain will bless you.”

the distant cries, screams, and roars all ring inside his ears but the sound of the rain breaking into smaller pieces as it falls to the ground that he walks on masks it all.

he feels so pathetic. the hatred that he has for himself continues to gather and manifest into his likeness to sing choruses of condemnation in the guise of shattered and broken praises that are shaped like knives, stabbing his guts and making blood spill from his lips (he doesn’t know what his mother looked like anymore yet he could remember the distinct smell and taste of iron as blood stains his skin).

“why are you all doing this…” he remembers what he answers to her sister before she walks off to her death. he remembers asking her as he covers his ears with his small hands—too weak and frail to even carry stones, much less move boulders. he remembers the pain, the confusion, the guilt of it all. he was just a small child who had too much to hold.

what even is the worth of his life? it was just merely 60 tanbas. even if he dresses himself in luxurious and expensive clothing his past self could never dream of having, it doesn’t rid of the grasp the ipc has over him; his shackles. the cold and harsh metal is not there anymore but he could still feel it tugging on his neck, he could still feel the letters burn as it engraves itself—death would have been a more merciful fate for him than being held by such cruel and dirty hands.

“kakavasha.”

aventurine opens his eyes to the sight of his ceiling. there was no empty land that is of semblance of his planet before him but instead there were the patterns, the walls, and the chandelier that hangs in the middle of it. he was in his room; the silence accompanied with the ticking sound of the clock strikes a balance between quietude and noise.

1:56, he looks at the time. it was still deep into the night—the stars cast its light into his room as it poured itself on the cold floor. there was a rustle by his side and he turned his head to look at you, peacefully sleeping in the comfort of his blankets and you mumbled something underneath your breath though he couldn’t hear it. your face scrunches for a moment before it relaxes into a soft one and he watches all of it happen; he wonders what you’re dreaming of.

unable to sleep—a heavy feeling resides in his chest ever since he woke up—, he slides himself out of the bed. slowly and silently, dare he might disturb your sleep. he slips into his slippers before walking off to the direction of his kitchen. he doesn’t even know what he’s going to do there; he’s not even thirsty nor hungry, he just follows where his feet brings him (that’s how it usually was for him, often aimless and wandering with no direction in mind, he just doesn’t where to go, where he belongs).

he’s not an alcoholic but sometimes he just seeks for the bitterness of the liquid—to replace the taste of blood on his tongue and momentarily feel what it’s like to have nothing on your shoulders; his hands are empty yet it holds so much. he pours himself a small glass, honey-coloured liquid spills into it and a few drops gets into the surface counter. he picks the glass up, swirls the liquid for a few moments and watches its motion, before he brings it to his lips and drinks it all.

the scent is harsh against his nose and the liquid burns at his throat. the taste was too bitter and he felt like spitting it all out but he didn't, he continued to swallow it until there was nothing left in his fill. he tried to think of something else, to avoid those thoughts from entering his mind: the plant there needs to be watered, that reminds me of the light bulb has to be changed, do i even have a future ahead of me?, the painting there is slightly out of place, am i even supposed to survive?, are you still in his room?

he wonders if you’re still tucked in his sheets, if you’re still sleeping in his bed, he wonders what you were dreaming of that got you mumbling and knitting your eyebrows, he wonders when you’ll walk away from him after you realize how ugly and utterly worthless he actually is.

“‘rine?” a voice calls out to him along with the light sound of approaching footsteps. as soon as you enter the kitchen, you are greeted by the sight of him: an empty glass in his hand with a newly-opened bottle of alcohol in front of him. it was currently 2 in the morning, your lover was missing from your side when you woke up but you found him drinking alone in the kitchen.

“what’s wrong, my love? are you okay?” you ask, worry following your tone as you spoke. but aventurine remains silent. he can’t tell you his thoughts, of the overwhelming despair that drags him back down to his misery, and it’s not because he doesn't want to but he can’t—it would break your heart.

(and you know his silence too well. you didn’t carve yourself inside his heart just for nothing, you didn’t consume his flesh to not know the humming of his thoughts inside his chest.)

“you know you can tell me anything, right?” you didn’t care that he’ll break your heart. you wanted all of him and that includes his hatred and anger. if it makes him feel better, break it, shatter it into pieces and you’ll keep on picking yourself up for him. even if you don’t have the ability to stop the downpour, you’ll walk with him through the rain.

after what seems to be moments of hesitation coming from him, he shuffles from his seat and approaches where you stood. and he lets himself fall and crumble for you to catch him in your embrace—he feels safe, he feels okay but the grief, misery, and guilt still tugs at his heart ever so often as it beats.

(“where do i put all of this grief?” he asked you once while you admired the stars with him. “you hold them until it turns to love.”)

you caress his back softly, a small act of comfort as you cradled him in your arms. he doesn’t put all of his weight on you but he pulls you close and buries his face on the crook of your neck, heaving out a sigh as he did; you let him, let him whisper his worries and write his thoughts on your skin.

“did you have a nightmare again?”

“…not really.” the faint smell of alcohol wafts to your nose as he speaks. “i just…”

“it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“i’m sorry.” he says and you didn’t fail to notice the crack in his voice and the feeling of something warm and wet on your skin. you hold him closer, tighter, and you brush your hand against his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft locks.

“you have nothing to apologize for. it’s not your fault, kakavasha. nothing is ever going to be your fault.”

“it feels like it does.”

“no, no, my love… you were just a child. you did all that you can to survive and fulfill your promise.”

you start to gently sway him into the melody of your hum and he follows your form like the wind would on your hair. this continues for long until he’ll let go—you’ll hold him for as long as he wants to if it would lessen his burdens.

“i wouldn’t love you any less nor will i think of you as worthless.”

he has days likes this, days where he contemplates and thinks of everything, days where he doesn’t know what to do or what to say, days where he feels like he never changed and he’s still the same weak child who walked away from his sister instead of begging and asking her to go with him (the survivor’s guilt goes hard), days where it feels like everything is falling apart and he’s left on his own again, days where all he wants to do is to just cry in your shoulder—

“are you feeling better?” you ask him as he lifts his head from your shoulder; dry tears are left like trails of stars on his features. you cup both of his cheeks and wipe away the remnants of his misery and ache.

“mhm, a little bit.” he nods and you beckon him closer to your lips just so you could kiss his forehead before peppering his whole face.

—but there are days of warmth and sunlight. days where it all feels a little bit bearable and he can breath, days where every step he takes isn’t heavy, days where he could taste the kindness of the sun on his lips, days where he wakes up with you by his side and thinks he could have this forever, days where he could hear his mother’s lullaby that would comfort him, days where he could hear his sister’s voice telling him that she’s proud of how far he have come, days where everything feels okay and worth it.

years of these little bits of happiness—in silence, in chaos, in tranquility, in destruction—he wants a lifetime of it with you. and though kakavasha was never a greedy man, the ache, the yearning, and craving for those moments with you fills the empty spaces of his thoughts; you looked like what peaceful dreams are made of.

“i love you.” he knows that you know that already, he just thought he’d say it again.

#aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #honkai imagines #honkai x reader #honkai #hsr aventurine x reader #hsr x you #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #aventurine imagines #aventurine x you #aventurine #star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine angst #honkai x you #honkai star rail x you #azul.writes

1K notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 11 days

Note

Pleaseee please could you do obsessive acotar boys who can’t get enough of reader please?

Obsessed

Clingy ACOTAR boys headcanons

Warnings- suggestive themes, mentions of abuse, possessive vibes, death, different ideas I either tossed out or was too insecure to post in short form (including an AU where Feyre doesn't destroy Spring and Tamlin isn't turned into what he's turned into), Beron, abuse, the Weaver, Ianthe, pregnancy

Rhysand

The bond snapped after Feyre freed them from the mountain. You were walking with her, giggling about heading home to Spring.

Of course, his mate was his enemy's little sister, and of course that only further the obsession.

Rhys wanted to free you from under Tamlin's grasp, and it became his mission.

It started with daily letters that you ignored.

Then gifts brought to you by shadows.

Then he'd show up in your room. Smiling as he leaned back against your headboard. "Hello y/n Darling."

You caved after 2 weeks of his nightly visits. Allowing him to plan your "kidnapping"

He rips you from Spring with Feyre. Having convinced Tamlin that if he was so worried about his bride to be, he should send his baby sister as a chaperone.

Once he has you in his home, in your home, those soft touches you two shared at night were no longer enough

His lips were on your body constantly. Your hands, your neck, your own soft lips.

Speaking of hands, I hope you like physical contact, because he has to constantly touch you.

In public, the placement is so respectful. Lower back to the lower side, resting just about your hips, guiding you as you shop and spend his money.

When you finally warm his bed, he cancels all plans the next day to ensure he has proper time to explore your body.

He memorized every freckle, every stretch mark, every scar. He doesn't stop until he knows every ticklish spot, every spot that makes your toes curl.

His love languages are gifts and physical touch, so once you opened that box, you opened a whole can of worms.

You are pulled into unused bedrooms, his office, Azriel and Cassian's offices when they're away, supply closets. He doesn't stop until he's tasted you on every surface and in every room.

I wish you luck during the frenzy. He won't stop until you are throughly spent and bred. How else will he ensure you never leave him?

Cassian

He had admired you while you two were growing up together in Windhaven.

He watched you do your chores and got his ass kicked for it more than he wants to admit.

Even at a young age, Cassian courted you. He didn't care that the flowers he was pulling were weeds. He still turned them into a bouquet or had Rhysand's mother weave them into your hair.

That didn't change as you two grew older together. By 18, it was known you were his, and by that point, everyone knew not to fuck with what's Cassian's.

He wouldn't touch you until your chores were done, wanting to spare you what little pain he could from your father's heavy hand.

Cassian wasn't respectful with his hand placement. The male has always had high sex drive, and he found his match in you.

You and Cassian shamelessly fucked in places that had your dear mother crying. The weapon storage shed. The forest. The mess hall once it was empty.

It was no shock to anyone, especially not you and Cassian, when the bond snapped right as he was leaving for the first war with Hybern.

When he came home to you and took you to Velaris, all bets were off. Rhys settled you two into the House of Wind, Azriel into the Riverhouse, and he took the townhouse.

The two of them never flew to the House of Wind without warning you or Cassian first. To do so had them risking walking in on you riding or Cassian with his head thrown back as you screamed for him.

Cassian can't stop touching you. He can't stop talking about you. He can't stop being in love with you. Even if the only way he knows how to show it is physically.

Not that you're complaining. You didn't need to walk anywhere today.

Azriel

Azriel worshipped you the second Rhysand's mother brought you back to the cabin.

Your voice became salvation, your scent became home, and your hands healed part of him he did not even know was broken.

The bond snapped young for you two. He had just turned 18, and you were still 16. He took his distance then, allowing you to explore the world much to your own protests. You understood why after two years.

It was the most selfless thing anyone had ever done for you. He allowed you to grow without his influence, despite how painful it had to have been watching you with other males.

Your father sees this whole relationship and mateship as a benefit to him alone. He takes you and Azriel to Velaris during the war.

He unknowingly allowed the relationship to go to heights he had already said were off limits to Azriel.

The number of times you had to mask your scent during dinner because a shadow was all too happily playing in your skirts was almost comical.

The relationship between you two is never able to go beyond heated kisses, stolen touches, and lingering glances.

Even in death, Azriel comes to you, speaking to you when he's lost and lonely.

He still obsessed over you, wishing he had more time, wishing he was with you. But the pain lessened.

Being ripped from the Cauldron by Amren was painful and terrifying.

You had a new body, modeled after your old one. You were slightly taller this time, and your face was still able to send males to war.

As much as it pained Azriel, he allowed Rhysand to be the first to you. He allowed your brother to be the one to hold you as you cried, confused and asking where you were. He let Mor go next, then Amren listening as the ancient being told you it was okay and that your purpose was not finished, so she was told to bring you back. Cassian dropped to his knees before you. Holding you as he apologized.

But Azriel waited. He walked beside you in silence as you were taken to the warcamp.

All bets were off once you were in his tent.

You don't know if you rushed to him first or if he came to you, but that reunion kiss was rough. Too much teeth and tongue. Tears falling down both of your faces.

He took things slowly with you. Your first life granted you powers like the world had never seen before, and this time was no different. You could move the stars at will, silence the connect other fae shared with their magic without even having to loosen a breath.

It was final confirmation of what many already knew. Rhysand was high lord due to his cock, not his power, and that sheer fact had Azriel on his knees for you once you were ready.

You are his living goddess, and Azriel is always ready to worship.

Lucien

Eris saved both of you. He had sent you to Spring long before you could be ripped from the market in autumn.

Lucien joined you soon after. Crying to the Mother in gratitude the second you came out from hiding behind Tamlin.

You were a rare breed of lesser fae. Your kind looked similar to the high fae by all means, but your kind had the ability to communicate with every living being.

You knew the names of each tree, of each flower, every critter. You could hear the winds whispers, see the colors he asked you to, and tell them all the meaning.

Your kind had been hunted for years, much like the shadowsingers.

It made Lucien almost unbearable when it came to his protective streak. But so did this new freedom.

Lucien is shamelessly in love with you. As an emissary, he gets to travel places you will never see. But he always brings you something back because you are always on his mind.

He brings you ornaments from Winter, jewelry from Day, sea shells from Summer, clothing from Dawn.

Lucien will speak about you for hours on end. It makes Tamlin crazy at times, but seeing how naturally you two fit together quickly makes the sting of jealousy fade.

Lucien purposes under a willow tree. Your absolute favorite one that you go to for guidance. Even if the bond does not snap, he wants you as his wife.

And boy does being his wife make things interesting.

He is suddenly growling at any male who studies your body for too long. Holding you from behind at all times. Showering you with even more things.

The bond snaps after Amarantha mutilated him. It snapped as you were nursing him back to health. Reminding him his beauty has nothing to do with why you love him, but instead it is his kindness and his soul.

You two become mutually obsessed from that point forward. More often than not, you will send a bird to shit on someone if they harm Lucien in any sense.

You both can not keep your hands to yourself anymore. It was as if that scar actually sealed his place as the most handsome male you had ever laid eyes on.

He sends you away to the forest when the 50 years is coming to a close. Not caring if he dies for it.

You would be his last thought if he did. And during that second trial, you were his only thought.

Everything he had done was for your safety, and if he ever saw you again, he would whisper those one thousand words he wanted to say as he laid between your legs, and he would never let go again.

Eris

Childhood best friends to lovers? Anyone? Anyone?

Well... kind of childhood best friends.

You met Eris when he was 6 and you were 5.

Your parents were one of two shadow hound breeders, and Beron was desperate to get his hands on one of your family's pups specifically.

You had this special talent that you could use from the moment you were able to. You seemed to know which hounds needed to be bred together to create the most powerful litters. And you did it all without inbreeding.

Your family quickly took hold of the other breeder's dogs, and you, your father's pride and joy, made their lives better.

Eris becomes obsessed with you from that day forward, and Beron knows it. Hence why you two are married at the young ages of 18 and 17.

Eris is madly in love and in private is very expressive of that.

He shows his love through praise.

"You look absolutely stunning today, little fox," is a common greeting as he brings you a tray of fresh fruits, eggs, breakfast meat of choice, and toast.

The sap cuts your toast into a heart.

He's a hopeless romantic, and it kills you that no one is able to see how he is with you outside of his mother amd your parents who are waiting for the day they get to go to war for him.

The second you end up pregnant, Eris's love turned into true obsession and not the healthy normal kind between partners.

He becomes possessive and overprotective. Your suddenly moved to one of his private hunting cabins with a guard detail and private healer assigned to you and you only.

He has to have his hands on you at all times. The only exception is when he is at the Forest House.

It is love. You know that deep down, but Gods, you are lonely.

You understand why this is happening, though, when he shows up beaten and bruised, limping into your arms for any sense of comfort.

His obsession is your safety. The safety of the lives you carry.

Once you birth his twins, the game changes. The obsession is now on him not being able to get enough of your new body.

Your mom body lives rent-free in Eris's mind. He's stroked himself in his office to the thought of your fuller breasts and supple hips more times than he'd like to admit.

He loves to squeeze your hips, loving the soft feel of them.

He would have gone to war for you beforehand. He does it now.

He wants to see a crown of leaves and berries on your head, sparkling but failing in comparison to the gem he has in his bed.

He crowns you high lady during his coronation.

You are his, and he is yours, regardless of that bond never snapping. You two do not need the Mother nor the Cauldron to decide you are each other's equal and other halves. You already know.

Tamlin

You knew you were Tamlin's mate long before Amarantha. You were a well kept secret, hidden out of fear of Rhysand coming to take you as well.

You made home in The Middle. Becoming friends with the Weaver was interesting, but you two forged a relationship. You bring her food, she offers protection, so yes. You kept her fed.

Tamlin comes back for the second he allows Rhysand to take Feyre.

You two spend the week she is there in bed, fucking like rabbits until he was content.

It's dead silence when Feyre comes back. He had expected Rhysand to keep her, not hold up his end of the bargain, and he also believed their relationship to be over.

Rhys was an idiot if he thought Tamlin couldn't scent the mating bond. He was willingly handing her over, and the High Lord had to aggressively whisper that to Rhys one night in his office to get it through the other male's thick skull.

It took Tamlin tugging the bond for you for Rhysand to understand.

The Lord of Night was almost disgusted by the love and mutual need you and Tamlin shared. He felt the two of you marked him in the scent of roses and petrichor.

The two of them sat Feyre down 3 days later, and she eagerly went to Night after Tamlin finally got her to understand that while he loves her, he cannot help her and love her the way Rhys will be able to.

That freed you two up, much to Ianthe's anger, to make up for lost time all over again.

He lives between your thighs. No one can change my mind, but Tamlin is a munch, and he cannot get enough of the taste of you.

When you find out Ianthe put her hands on him, on Rhysand, on Lucien you and Feyre become a force. Ianthe selling Feyre's sisters to Hybern had been enough for you and Tamlin to begin the process of banishing her. But much to Tamlin's delight, this made you feral.

Feyre crippled the priestess, and you dragged her by her bleach and tone blonde hair to the Weaver, smiling to Stryga.

"Feyre's apology present for stealing the ring, dear friend." Feyre held a breath, fingers squeezing your wrist as the Weaver moved, scenting Ianthe's fear, blood, and tears.

"And what is this?"

The two of you look at each other, mirrored cruel smiles before speaking in unison, "Dinner."

Tamlin, Lucien, and Rhysand watched from a distance as Feyre retreated to them, and you stayed to ensure the priestess did not somehow escape. "I can see why you love her," Rhysand started slowly. "She's-"

"Everything," Tamlin stated softly. "She is everything."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

561 notes · View notes

dolliehina · 1 year

Text

Just imagine it, You're their god, creator, hope, their reason, the control you have over them is unfathomable. They look at you with such love loyalty and desire, willing to do anything for you to have you acknowledge their existence. Despite their delusional loyalty and desire towards you, you are anything but merciful. Why? Because you're so goddamn spoiled.

You know you can make them do anything you want, if you don't like what they give you? You through a fat fucking fit, tell them how much they disappointed you. Nonononono you can't be mad at them, they'll do anything to have you forgive them. Harm themselves, kill someone, build you a whole sanctuary, They'll do anything just pleasepleaseplease forgive them. You're awfully amused by their loyalty and blind love for you. You have them all wrapped around your delicate violent finger.

The worst thing in the world of teyvat is when you're angry. It could be over the tiniest thing, like you lost your favorite earrings or necklace. Or maybe somebody was dumb enough to make you upset by giving you an awfully ugly offering, you don't care how rare or expensive it was, how dare they give you something so horrid, the lowly creature.

Point is you're just so awful when you're going through a fit, you whine, you cry and stomp your feet. Anything to get you what you want and the attention you so desperately need. Whenever you do go through one of your tantrums you are just a nightmare. A scream that could crack the walls and sky, crocodile tears that could flood all of Teyvat and stomps that could break all the mountains (whoever made your spoiled ass upset not that its hard is going to pay dearly I assure you. They may even be dead by the time you start acting like a spoiled little baby.)

Oh how they hate to see their beautiful spoiled god in such dismay and distress. Some of them come to comfort you, bringing you everything you need and want to at least get you to stop screaming and pouting.

-Kaveh, Diluc, Zhongli, Pantalone, Baizuh, Ninguuang, Kazuha, Venti, Al haitham.

Another group will find whoever made their god upset and destroy everything they ever loved bringing you their misery and despair as a gift to cheer you up <3.

-Dottore, Childe, Sandrone, Kaeya, Cyno, Scaramouche, Xiao, Venti.

When you're distressed so are they, they will cry with you and Sob over your despair until you're happy again almost like it never happened and then go back to being your loyal pet servant.

-Barbara, Nilou, Ayaka, Thoma, Kaveh, Raiden, Columbina, Nahida, La signora.

But no matter how much you throw a tantrum or almost destroy their world, you will always be their spoiled bratty beautiful creator.

#genshin cult au #sagau brainrot #sagau x reader #creator!reader #god!reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin cult au #yandere sagau #genshin smut #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #sagau smut

999 notes · View notes

weavingstarlight · 4 months

Text

A gift for @breannasfluff of Wild from her Wing Bois AU! And it's a whole ding-dang painting because I am INCAPABLE of restraining myself.

If you're unfamiliar with the AU, it's basically "what if the Linked Universe boys were bird/hylian hybrids". Wild here is based on the Taiwan blue magpie (Urocissa caerulea), also known as the long-tailed mountain lady or (Taiwanese) Tn̂g-boé soaⁿ-niû

This is what they look like! (sorry I don't have the photographer's name)

And since I am an unashamed bird nerd, here are some bonus facts about the Taiwan blue magpie!

These birds are not very afraid of people and often live near human settlements. They have even been known to attack humans to defend their nests.

Magpies are omnivores and like to stash food for later.

They are relatively social birds that flock in a distinctive line formation. However, they nest monogamously.

Blue magpies are considered sacred by some cultures. In one story, the blue magpie helped carry fire back to the people after a great flood.

This painting was sooo much fun to go all-out on, even though the lighting kicked my ass! Seriously, there are so many layers of color on this page. I decided to blend Wild's designs from Linked Universe and WB, and to give him tailfeathers JUST because Taiwan blue magpies have such gorgeous tails.

8.25in x 11in. Watercolor pencils, watercolor markers, alcohol markers, colored pencils, and various pens.

#linked universe #lu wild #lu wing bois fanart #wb wild #biology #bird facts #traditional art #my art #fanart

171 notes · View notes

exhaslo · 5 months

Note

Hi again!

Since the Holidays are around the corner, could I request a Fluff-to-Smut fic involving Miguel O’Hara where Spider![Reader] [Female] confesses her feelings to him while the two are under a Mistletoe?

- @club-danger-zone

Hehehe, it ain't the holidays without someone being a gift I mean, some love in the air!!!

Also, I hope you like how I did this one hehe, decided to have some fun!

Sorry this was late, I blame everything on work! Happy Holidays!

Warning: None, just fluff

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the twelfth day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Twelve Reports to Fill~

You stared at the small mountain of paperwork before you. This was not how you wanted to start your twelve days of Christmas. You had already planned your movie schedule out. You had already made a perfect plan to buy last minutes gifts, but nope.

Your die hard crush, Miguel O'Hara, the leader of the Spider Society, thought it was best to give you paperwork. You huffed your cheeks out towards the sexy male, wanting to complain. It was futile because you would do anything for him.

Your ears perked as you heard the speakers turn on and Christmas music playing. Miguel cussed lowly,

"Aye Peter. Changing the damn music again," He huffed before turning towards your confused expression, "This song is reverse in your world, right?"

"Yea, it's super weird hearing it start from day 1." You said with a confused smile, "Heeeeey, since it's reverse why don't-"

"You know where to find me when you're done, cariño (sweetheart)"

You wanted to whine as he left, but you didn't since you got a good view of his ass. A wide grin formed against your lips since you also had another plan for the holiday.

You were going to confess to Miguel by Christmas!

On the eleventh day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Eleven pats on your head~

Perhaps Miguel was having an off day, but you were loving every moment of it. Miguel was known to give you head pats. It was something that Peter and Jessica always questioned. It was story you were never going to tell them.

Miguel would only give you head pats if you did a good job or he just needed to destress. It sounded silly and the first time it happened, both of you were confused, but Miguel kept at it. You loved it when he would rub your head. Something about it felt so comforting.

"Hehe," You chuckled as Miguel walked by you, patting your head once more. He stopped and glanced at you,

"Hm? (Y/N)?" He muttered, surprised to see you. You grinned from ear to ear, approaching the exhausted man,

"I think you need a nap, boss." You chirped before giving him a soft pat on his head, "There, returning the favor."

With a skip of your heel, you scurried off before Miguel could comprehend what you did.

On the tenth day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Ten Goblin Bombs~

This was something you honestly hated. Miguel was giving you a slight smirk since you wanted to show off to him. You just made a small joke about being able to do something Miguel couldn't. It was a tease! A joke!

"Mig-"

"Ah, ah, ah. You said that you could disarm these with ease." Said Miguel as he leaned against the wall.

You pouted as big as you could, wanting to show Miguel your childish anger. All he did was chuckle in response. At least none of these were lethal. Miguel made sure to give you a bunch of dubs and silly bombs that some of the ridiculous Gobin's had.

You huffed as you started to disarm the bombs. Glancing at Miguel, you decided to play a small game. After disarming the first two bombs, you worked on half of the third bomb. A grin formed against your lips as you tossed it towards Miguel,

"Catch!"

"Aye! Don-" Before Miguel could grab it, the bomb exploded and covered the whole room in green goo.

You couldn't stop laughing as you and Miguel were covered in slime, sticking the two of you together. Miguel cussed lowly but didn't say anything since you were pressed against him.

"Didn't like that, huh?"

"No."

"Don't be so grumpy~" You teased, blushing since you were so close to his chest now, "Um...I-I'll help clean."

"You better."

On the ninth day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Nine depressed Peters~!

"Miguel, why are you having me console the Peters and not, oh I don't know, Therapist Peter?" You whispered as a Peter cried in the background. Miguel just glanced at you,

"Remember yesterday?"

"Awe, but I stayed late to clean it all up! This isn't fair," You whined softly. Miguel chuckled before patting your head,

"I think it's fair."

You tried to pull Miguel back to you, wanting him to help you with the Peters. Once Miguel left, you nearly cried out. You were defiantly going to repay Miguel. Your plan was going to start tomorrow.

On the eight day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Eight Lovely Roses~

There was smile to your face as you watched Miguel approached you again with a rose. Your plan was working perfectly and honestly, it was making your heart race. It was silly since you and Lyla designed this whole plan.

"Um, I know this is the sixth one...But here," Miguel muttered, avoiding eye contact from you. You chuckled softly, taking the rose,

"Awe, and what was the post card this time?" You asked. Miguel glanced away,

"Favorite Spider." He whispered. You tilted your head, not hearing him,

"Hm? What was that?"

"..." You could have sworn you saw Miguel's ears turn red as he turned away, "Don't expect another rose from me," He grumbled.

Resisting a chuckle, you smiled towards your rose. You placed those cards purposely around his office and around the spider society. All of these roses should hopefully go to you.

"I should be getting a few more~"

On the seventh day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Seven Escapees~

You were out of breath. Miguel warned everybody about this. Every year around Christmas there was a large surge of crime in every universe. Plus with the new surge of anomalies, it did not help with the stress of the season.

"Peter! I know you're stressed and I told you to stay home if-"

"Miguel, not now." You begged as a Rhino tossed you across the room. Miguel growled as he went to catch you,

"Seven! Seven anomalies broke out, (Y/N)."

"Ow, I know. I know, but he's going through a lot of shit. Remember, you had me console him?" You said with a chuckle as Miguel placed you down gently.

"Fine, just be careful," Miguel sighed before rubbing your head.

You felt your cheeks fluster and your heart race as Miguel rushed to face Rhino. Clapping your cheeks, you got back in the groove as other Spidermen and women came to help with the escapees. You swore Miguel was worried for a second there.

You hoped he did.

On the sixth day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Six health check-ups~

"Miguel, I said I'm fine. This is the third check up today," You whispered as Miguel had Lyla check your stats.

"Not only did you get hurt yesterday with the escapees, but you also got injured by your Scorpion this morning. You stumbled on your way in here," He told you, his hand against your cheek.

"Sorry, just had a lot on my mind." You told him, enjoying the warmth of his hand. Miguel sighed once more and patted your head,

"I'll do more check ups on you if I see the smallest misstep. Okay?" Miguel's voice was low and filled with concern.

You smiled softly and thanked Miguel. As Miguel started to leave, Lyla appeared before you and gave a thumbs up. You chuckled in response and decided to lay down and rest for a bit.

On the fifth day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Five Hours of Silence~

You were nervous about your plan working. These last few days have been super hectic. Miguel was probably worrying about you more than you were yourself, but today? Today has been so quiet from both Miguel and the Spider Society.

Everyone was most likely doing their last minute Christmas shopping. You had finally managed to finish yours, but now you were feeling a bit lonely. Looking at the present you got for Miguel, you sighed softly, wondering what the grumpy Spider was doing.

It has been five hours since you arrived and you tried to contact anyone, but nothing. Honestly, you were feeling quite lonely. Deciding to call it a day, you went over to the Christmas tree that some Peters put up for Miguel.

"Hopefully he sees it," You whispered to yourself as you placed his gift under the tree.

The only one. It made you smile knowing that Miguel was going to open something you gave him. If only you could see his face when he does. Just the thought made your heart flutter.

Right as you started to leave, you saw none other than Miguel approach you. Your eyes widen as he came to you in a frenzy and grabbed your wrist,

"Miguel? Are you alright?" You asked him. Miguel grumbled lowly,

"It's been too quiet."

Once again, Miguel brought a smile to your face. You happily stayed to entertain him.

On the fourth day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Four Strong Drinks~

This caught you off guard. You were planning on decorating most of the Spider Society tonight with Hobie and some Peters, but Miguel had asked you to help him in his office. Although, his helping also involved some strong alcohol.

You were only on your second drink and were already starting to feel tipsy. You didn't know Miguel liked to drink, or the fact that he made them strong as hell. Shit, Miguel wasn't even working on anything anymore. The two of you were just having a good time.

"And then I'm suddenly a messenger for Thor!"

"Haha," You laughed at Miguel venting about the people from the lower half of Nueva York, "They worship you,"

"I don't want to be worshipped," Miguel groaned, finishing his drink and making another, "Another?" He asked you.

"Maybe in a bit," You replied, finishing your drink.

Part of you wanted to confess your feelings now. Your heart was beating loud and fast. Glancing at your handsome leader, you felt your breathing shudder. You wanted to tell him, but now was not the time. You had a plan in motion.

"I'll, uh....take that other drink now."

On the third day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Three boxes of Chocolate~

This was a surprise and not part of your plan. You stood in front of Miguel has he handed you not on, not two, but three boxes of chocolates. This was nowhere on your diabolical scheme to confess to Miguel.

"Um-"

"Be glad it's three. Ben has to give seven boxes of chocolate to someone." Miguel grumbled in annoyance. You fluttered your eye lashes towards him,

"Oh? Was there a requirement?" You teased.

"I won't say. It's...a guy thing," Miguel was hesitant to say.

His comment made you laugh. Guess someone else was trying to get in on the Christmas spirit. Thanking Miguel for the chocolates, you decided to head back home to drop them off. You just wanted to know what was the requirement to give out the chocolates.

On the second day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

Two mystery gifts~

"Merry early Christmas, (Y/N)" Miguel told you as he handed you two small presents.

"O-Oh! Thank you, Miguel! You didn't have too." You gasped, holding the presents in your hand.

This was still early and you were now worried. Would Miguel close the Spider Society for Christmas? Could heroes actually get a day off? It sounded nice, but it would ruin your special plan!

"I saw the gift you gave me under the tree,"

"Ah, did you open it?"

"Not yet," Miguel smiled towards you, "I'll open it tomorrow, as should you." He said. You bit your lower lip and glanced towards Miguel,

"Um, this sounds super silly, but this place is open tomorrow right?" You asked him.

"Hm? Yea, I know that some people rather-" Miguel stopped himself and saw your smile, "I'll be here in the morning too." He told you.

"Cool, I'll see you in the morning,"

This was going to work out perfectly. Your plan was still in motion. Although, you were extremely eager to open these presents now, but no. You had to be patient and wait.

On the last day of Christmas your true love gave to you~

One Passionate Kiss~

Your plan was a success. You had placed mistletoes everywhere around the Spider Society. Everyone was loving it. You just needed to find Miguel now.

Running past everyone, you hurried right into Miguel's office. Right when you entered, Miguel stood in front of you. Your eyes sparkled as the two of you stood right under a mistletoe. Your face turned bright red as you smiled and pointed above you,

"Merry Christmas, Mig-"

Your eyes widen as Miguel held your cheeks and gave you a deep and passionate kiss. Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest. What felt like eternity was only a mere minute as Miguel finally pulled away.

"Merry Christmas, (Y/N)" Miguel said with a satisfied hum. You took a deep breathe,

"I love you." You said simply and quick, still registering the kiss. Miguel's smirk widen as he grabbed your hand and pulled you inside his office,

"I don't think we've utilized his mistletoe enough, don't you (Y/N)?" He asked. You glanced at the Christmas ornament above you and noticed plenty more in his office that you didn't put,

"Holy shit,"

"Merry Christmas, (Y/N)" Miguel whispered once more before his door closed, pulling you into another deep kiss.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'll leave the presents to your imagination~

I hope you liked this!!! Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy Kwanza and every other holiday!!

@tojishugetiddies

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #christmas

228 notes · View notes

hijackalx · 6 months

Text

KARLACH SFW HEADCANONS:

shes literally the least toxic out of everybody 😹😹 SHES JUST SO SWEET !!!! she loves to take care of tav, like after battles she'll have them sit on her lap while she dresses their wounds HELP !!! and the whole time she'll tease them with sneaky touches. she also likes to pick up tav, like spinning them around or throwing them over her shoulder is funny to her.

shes got a really innocent and childlike quality to her especially when shes in love like her and tav banter so often but its always lighthearted and sweet. and theyll play games with each other while traveling like who can throw the rock the farthest or some shit 😹😭 karlach would win normally but she likes to hold back so tav can win.

i also think shes pretty sensitive lowkey and its easy to upset her. she doesnt get mad though she just gets in her feelings and gets sad and distant. might need reassurance from tav sometimes when it comes to how much they love her.

love language:

giving = psychical touch and gift giving.

after not being able to touch people for soooo long of course her love language is touch. she literally cant get enough of tav, she almost always has a part of her touching them. i feel like she likes to wrap her tail around their leg when theyre talking lol like a cat. i can also see her being really excited to give tav items shes found or bought. all because they reminded her of them 🥰 her and tav should start a rock collection she'd love finding pretty rocks for them im crying can u imagine the party walking through the mountain pass and karlach keeps stopping to excitedly point out a rock to tav 😭😭

receiving = obv psychical touch but also acts of service? i feel like she doesnt ever EXPECT anything from anyone so when tav does go out of their way to do things for her it almost makes her cry lol.

shes also def as big and buff as she looks. like 6'4 pure muscle baby. she is a sight to behold. also feel like shes got bangin thighs and some booty too 🤭 she loves to sit tav on her thighs and do some nsfw things with them too lol

KARLACH NSFW HEADCANONS:

okay so karlach i feel is very switchy. like she really enjoys being dominant and on top but she'll also be submissive and bottom too. she really just likes to do what tav wants. that being said i feel like shes rlly a giver like she just wants to see tav get off and it turns her on so much.

ok this might be kind of obvious but she will want tav to call her mommy LMAO like she loves it and she also loves when tav calls her that outside of sex its just so saucy eugh 😜

sooo into thigh riding like will sit tav on her thigh and bounce them or press her thigh/knee betwen tav's legs so they can grind against her like its her favorite OK

cannot get off if tav hasnt yet so how long she lasts usually depends on them. its that serious

okay. listen. i feel like karlach is more on the vanilla side AND I KNOW RHATS NOT WHAT YALL WANNA HEAR BUT YOU WILL HEAR IT ANYWAY !!!!!! like besides the mommy thing she just doesnt have that many kinks BUT she will participate in whatever kinks tav has so 🤷🏼

likes to wear a strap. a big ass gargantuan one too #prayfortavshole i also think shes prolly a lil dry normally cuz of her condition and all that...... but thats ok baby thats why we have lube 😘 (also LOVES when tav uses their spit as lube)

aftercare is very important to karlach cuz she likes to take care of tav already like i said before. like she'll clean them up and maybe suggest giving them a bath after 🥺 and she'll tell them how much she enjoyed it and all that

#bg3 #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #headcanons #karlach x tav #karlach #karlach x reader #karlach bg3 #x reader #karlach headcanons #my headcanons #karlach cliffgate #baldurs gate headcanon

219 notes · View notes

treedaddymcpuffpuff · 13 days

Text

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

TW: little bit of nsfw, BDSM mention, angst

You shouldn’t be googling ‘how to tell a guy no in a nice way’ at the nurse’s station, but something has to be done. You thought after you left Julian’s place that there would be a mutual understanding of “this isn’t going to work out, we’re too incompatible”, but he didn’t seem to get that memo.

The gifts just keep coming:

A pretty black silk dress in your exact size by Prada. Two crescent thin golden bangles for each wrist from Tiffany & Co that come in a robin’s egg blue box wrapped in a white satin ribbon. Upon close examination, you make out that they are subtly engraved in slanting script, JM. Really? His initials? You almost chuck them out the window just for that.

An expensive lunch from the fancy bistro that you can never afford, though you would have preferred a gourmet sandwich to an artisan salad.

A bouquet of fifty fucking red roses for Christ’s sake. They take up so much room at the nurse’s station that they’re a nuisance. They’re addressed to you, not signed—but you know exactly who they’re from. Then you have to field all the annoying questions about who’s your secret admirer? You hear Karen grumble that it must be that Officer Romeo and didn’t know cops got paid that good.

If only they knew. It would serve Julian right, if you just ratted him out to everyone.

This has to stop.

“Julian?”

He looks up from his mountain of paperwork. “Hey, look who it is. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. How are you?” Yeah, great, egg this on a little bit more instead of getting to the point. When will you learn?

“I’m spectacular,” he says. “I was wondering if you were alright because you called off for the first time yesterday?”

Yeah, so I didn’t have to face you after receiving the expensive ass jewelry…

Your smile feels forced enough to induce a migraine, but at least it gives you an idea for an excuse. “Yeah, I had a really bad migraine.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Do you get them frequently?”

“Yes.” It’s not exactly a lie, although these migraines you’re admitting to are actually just mild caffeine withdrawal headaches when you don’t have enough time to drink your coffee.

“Have you talked to your primary care provider about it?” He asks, standing up to flash his penlight in your eyes and dilate your pupils. He grips your chin and turns your head to check lateral eye movement, but you stop him.

“Julian, I’m fine. I didn’t have a stroke.”

“Don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not fine,” he orders. “I can see there’s something wrong. You're pale and clammy.” He pulls out his big leather chair and guides you to sit in it. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

You look up at him, at this kind eyed, two sided man, and can’t do it. You can’t tell him to stop sending you gifts or buying you food, because you don’t want to be an asshole and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. Your nerves die along with your resolve.

“There, see, you look like you’re feeling better already. I’ll go buy you some water.”

“No, you don’t-“ he’s already gone halfway down the hall with those mile long legs.

You decide to take all the expensive gifts and shove them in the bottom of your closet to avoid feeling guilty when looking at them. But that doesn’t change the fact that you still have to look at Dr. Mercer and endure his caring, golden retriever persona.

This is what happens when you lie to yourself. You swear off relationships, move to a different part of the country, and then decide to go on a date—idiot—and these are the consequences for it. You feel like you have absolutely betrayed that girl that packed up her whole life to come to LA for a fresh start, and you’re sure she’s not forgiving you this time.

“No more,” you say to yourself, pushing the gift boxes to the back of the cobwebby closet. “No more dates, no more men. No more heartbreak. You stupid bitch. Yes, that includes Tom Ludlow. Shut up. I said. No. Tom. Ludlow.”

You end up screaming into a pillow, then calling your sister. She doesn’t answer, which is typical—probably on the road or using again or even dead in a ditch for all you know.

“Hey, Aggie, it’s me, gimme a call.” You play the voicemail back and then decide to delete it and hang up. You’re not exactly on speaking terms, but that ebbs and flows from one year to the next, so you’re not sure what she’ll think or do when she sees your name on her phone screen.

Your friend, Sheila, doesn’t answer either; she’s probably at work.

It sucks. You could really use some reassurance and comfort that you’re not alone or unwanted in this fucked up little world. Maybe that’s why you end up with your finger hovering over Tom Ludlow’s number while you sit on the floor of your bedroom. You stare at those digits for a long time, then tuck your phone away and cry.

You only get a chance to dive a little bit into this self pity session before your phone rings from your pocket. It’s not Aggie, nor Sheila, but a number you’ve unintentionally memorized nonetheless.

Now, you really have to fight with every piece of yourself not to answer Tom Ludlow. The lecture you just monologued becomes irrelevant next to the burning, awful fucking desire to hear him talk. You almost pick it up. Almost.

Watching your phone ring and ring, his name emblazoned on the screen, without answering feels like cutting out your heart and crushing it under your heel.

It goes to voicemail, but he hangs up before leaving a message.

A part of you that you didn’t even know that you need dies.

Good. Good riddance. Your heart only gets you into huge fucking trouble anyway.

You wait for your inner strength to return over the days that go by afterwards. Tom continues to call. You keep declining to answer. For some reason, you feel worse and worse every time the phone ceases to ring.

Where is you fucking girl power now?

All you really feel, is empty, and that is the vulnerable state Julian finds you in one late night at the nurses station.

“Y/n,” he greets you, leaning on the counter, looking down at you with a glimmer of something dangerous in his dark eyes. It’s a look he almost never lets out of the box while at the hospital, and suddenly your heart is in your throat.

“Doctor.”

For some reason this causes him to smile down at you, a slight curl of lips that unleashes a handful of fluttering butterflies in your belly.

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

You recall the massive bouquet of pure white lilies he had sent to your door yesterday, and believe him.

“Julian…”

He comes around the counter, smooth as a dark lake, reminding you of when he jumped over the couch and chased you like he was a wolf rather than a golden retriever. Your pussy gives a timid little throb at this, almost as if she’s asking for permission to come out after days of being punished, locked away in her gilded cage while you dealt with other, more pressing emotions, like the one that stabs you repeatedly in the chest while you let Tom Ludlow’s number go to voicemail.

“I can’t stop-“ he clears his throat, chin up as if he’s trying not to be nervous, and brushes some wispy, rogue hair off your neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You can tell by the black matte of his eyes he means more than just platonically.

Every hair on your body stands at attention for that hungry, eat you alive look on the handsome Doctor’s face. Part of you, and it’s a bigger part than you’d like to admit, wants to have a gag stuffed down your throat and a tight slip knot holding it in place so that he can do whatever he wants without you ruining things with your fat mouth again.

“We’re just. We’re really not—Fuck.” You slap your forehead into your hands, and he takes it out, ever so gently with a big, shiver-inducing palm at the back of your neck, gripped softly in your hair, not exactly pulling, but lifting your face up to look at him nonetheless.

“Please, just hear me out.” It doesn’t sound like he’s used that first word very often—maybe not ever, or at least not for a very long time. Dr. Mercer’s picture is in the dictionary under the word ‘Polite’, but he practically runs this hospital, and with that responsibility comes a certain authoritative entitlement.

“Julian, we’re at work.” You don’t know how he manages to get you on the desk without alerting anyone around. The way he can just lift you easy and gentle has a familiar desire bubbling hot in your hips, and you can’t decide if you’re glad that you chose to chart in a more secluded area of the floor tonight or not.

“I can’t help it.” It sounds like he’s honest about that, voice splintering and needy as he presses his hard torso between your soft thighs. “I know that I fucked up, but if I don’t get a second chance to at least try and rectify this…” He’s not usually a man that doesn’t know what he wants to say.

This whole swearing off men thing? How is it supposed to fucking work if the men look and act like Julian? How are you supposed to do the whole proverbial keep it in your pants bit when a sexy, tall, beautiful doctor wants—desperately—to string you up to his bed and do horrible things to your body?

You can’t believe these words are coming out of your traitor's mouth as you bend under his will: “what kind of a second chance?”

He kisses you in response, long and slow, tongue slipping teasingly against the sensitive inner sanctum of your mouth. It leaves your toes curling, your chest rising quick and rapid, your white knuckles clutching the polished counter. He’s not exactly nice about it, pressing you back into the lip of the granite, holding the entire side of your face in his hard grip, turning your mouth red and swollen.

You’re going to have to bleach wipe this desk after all of this is done, because the insistent need of his mouth is making your comfy cotton underwear damp and warm like a humid summer night back at home.

“Let me take you to the club. Let me show you…let me help you understand.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Isn’t that the fucking understatement of the century? It sounds like a terrible idea. But, you were the one that wanted to understand him better. “When?”

The thrill seeker, she’ll never die. She needs blood, she’s thirsty, she doesn’t want a boring life of reading and watching the news. She wants to go to a BDSM club in Venice with a fine ass doctor and probably ruin your—her life in the process.

“When are you off next?” The grin on Julian’s face is all Mr. Hyde.

#Julian Mercer x Reader #tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse #something’s gotta give #Sorry spooky more Julian 🙂‍↕️

61 notes · View notes

txjisbabydoll · 7 days

Text

nanami fluff hcs because I cannot be assed to write a full fic!! reblogs are, as always, greatly appreciated.

also, my ask box + requests are open :)

no content warnings. nanami kento x GN!reader

boyfriend!nanami who...

always makes time for you, regardless of how busy he is

same vein, he never, ever, finds you annoying. ever. blow up his phone, he loves that shit

always coming by unannounced with flowers or gifts (if you'll let him)

had all your important stuff memorized early on, and never forgets

who is so gentle with you. very soft spoken, always asking before he can touch you. a gentleman, really

who met your family/friends and was nervous. they love him

who pops the question by blurting it out. his whole neck and face turn red, and you're sure he's stopped breathing

husband!nanami who...

picks the perfect ring. he's had it tucked away for months, and was confident you would like it

who cracks a smile when gojo and the others cheer when he kisses you, making you laugh in turn

who would adore your children, if you chose to have them. he's happy either way

who is all-around the perfect guy for you, who will hold you forever, and would move mountains for you.

taglist! @slvttyplum @kitkat-pattywack @togeboba @tsukimefuku @kayleegomez @theeitgirls-blog

#is this fluff? not really #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk nanami #jjk x reader

99 notes · View notes

a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire · 4 months

Text

Made it to chapter 16 today which means Feyre and I have both had our first impressions of Rhysand's Inner Circle and ohhhhhhh boy

Its hard to pinpoint why exactly, but theres something so discomforting about watching them interact. I think the main thing is that for all their "casual-ness", theres still clearly a rigid hierarchy between them and they all seem to 'know their place' so to speak, its not at all like Lucien and Tamlin's relationship in the first book which genuinely felt like a friendship that was unburdened by their status or positions. Like, theres this one moment where Mor and Amren are like kinda bickering with each other i guess, and Feyre remarks that Mor is probably super powerful if she dares talk back against Amren (in an incredibly minor matter Im pretty sure but I already forgor ngl) and because this is the book where Feyre's perspective starts being Objectively Correct all the time, I guess that's true, I guess the only reason someone would dare voice their opinion on something to this friend group is if they were physically more powerful because otherwise you just level a fucking mountain during an argument

Anyway, Im gonna switch topics for a short moment but I promise this diversion is relavant to the point above. So, sometimes when I go into the anti-tags on here looking for criticisms or complaints of the books, I instead find anti-ship posts that are mainly just about trash-talking some ship, mostly ones relating to that whole Elucien/Elriel/Gwynriel shipwar, which I already have thoughts on but I'll save those for later. In any case, one day I stumbled upon this pretty long anti-elriel post about how the gifts Elain gives Azriel on winter solstice arent actually cute and it describes how she gave him like, herbs that help with headaches "because his friends are always giving him headaches" apparently. And then that post went on a whole rant about how insensitive that was of her and that she doesnt actually understand Azriel's dynamic with his close friends, but honestly, judging from this chapter Elain was absolutely spot on

And I usually wouldn't say this because yknow, its only one chapter and we're probably gonna get the nuances of their relationship later, but this is a book written by Sarah J Maas, her characters and their relationships are rarely particularly deep and, more importantly, her writing is incredibly unsubtle. If Azriel was in any way fond of his friends shenaningans I wouldve noticed it, because Feyre wouldve noticed it like 15 times during that whole dinner. But she didnt.

Its especially bad for Cassian and Azriel because it feels like Cassian thinks they have this great rapport but Azriel just genuinely kinda dislikes him. Not to mention that whole fucking mess with Azriel and Mor and Cassian and Mor having sex so she wouldnt get married off or whatever, good god how is every conversation between them not insanely awkward

Even beyond that, idk man, theyre all just so insufferable. I dont understand how Amren, ancient eldritch being trapped in a fae body that she is, can stand to be around them, I wouldve left them 5 centuries ago if I was her. I guess the explanation is that she finds the government position interesting but its like, youre SECOND to the most boring and annoying man on the planet only kinda ruling over a court that you dont even actually care about from everything Ive heard. Again, if I was in Amren's position I would not be hanging out in an APARTMENT in a boring ass city at the behest of a quartett of stupid bozos, I wouldve weaseled my way into being the personal advisor of Beron or some shit so I could watch the Vanserra Family Drama unfold live

There was one good thing about this discomforting dinner though, and that was how inexplicably gay Cassian was for Rhysand. He was really out there, looking at him with such love, calling him pretty twice in like two minutes being all "I knew I wanted a piece of him the moment I first saw him, the high lord's pretty son" like okay. I know what you are

#istg the most entertainment Ive gotten out of these books so far are the crumbs of homoeroticism #anti acomaf #anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti inner circle #flames and darkness liveblog

135 notes · View notes

riboism · 1 year

Text

the beguiled

pairing: inkeeper! p.sh x married! f. reader

blurb: As a last attempt to save your marriage, you and your husband take a short vacation to a secluded lake house. But what happens when the owner of the bed and breakfast derails your plans?

genre: smut, angst, infidelity, mentions of alcohol, f. reader x husband! kim hongjoong, reader x park seonghwa, cheater!reader, husband!hongjoong, inkeeper!seonghwa

wc: 5.9k

This week wasn’t at all what you imagined it to be. You pictured being in a nice Airbnb that overlooked the snowy mountains of Aspen. You loved cold, brutal winters, as they gave you an excuse to cozy up by the fire with your husband. You imagined laying your head against his chest while he draped a blanket over you and told you stories about his childhood. He’d quiet his voice like he was whispering something that he didn’t want anyone other than you to hear, even though it was just the two of you alone in the room. You loved when he did that. The softness of his tone and the warmth from being in his arms would lull you to sleep, and he’d chuckle softly when he looked down and saw you drooling all over the new sweater you got for him. But you weren’t in Aspen. And you weren’t drifting off to sleep in your husband’s arms. You were in a secluded lakehouse in the middle of a humid forest, ass up and face down on a creaky mattress while your husband drilled into you from behind.

It was the first time in months that he touched you. You weren’t enjoying it- not at first, at least. He fucked you like it was an obligation. Hongjoong knew you were upset with him, and unfortunately, there weren’t any jewelry stores nearby for him to go buy you a “Sorry for being a shitty husband and ruining our vacation” gift. So when you came upstairs after dinner, Hongjoong gave in to your displeased look and decided to make amends in a way he thought would help you forget about the whole thing. And you let him.

You were immune to him. Honestly, he was the last thing on your mind right now. Even with him gripping your hips and groaning as he plunged into you like this, all you could think about was Mr. Park. The Innkeeper, Mr. Park.

At first, his presence irked you. The whole point of this vacation was to get some alone time with Hongjoong and rekindle whatever sparks were left in your marriage. But how could you do that with this random stranger hovering over you two all day? You had to enjoy dinner with him every night, and it didn’t help that he slept right downstairs. But then, your husband’s work phone wouldn’t stop ringing, and he started to flake from your lakeside plans to go and handle his “emergency work stuff” in your rooms. You couldn’t believe that he brought his work to your vacation. At first, you blamed the promotion for your current marital crisis. But after the past few days, you started to see that the decline was caused by you, not his job. You weren’t exciting anymore, well not as exciting as his job, so when it came down to it, Hongjoong would rather attend a four-hour-long meeting than go to a picnic with his wife.

You knew he wasn’t enjoying it either. Well, he was enjoying getting his dick wet as any man would, but he didn’t see it as making love to his wife. He didn’t see you at all, and you didn’t see him either. The most intimate act wasn’t intimate anymore because both of you had someone else in your mind at the moment. Him, he was probably thinking about the end-of-the-year bonus, or maybe that scantily clad secretary at his work. Since when were push-up bras and deep v-necks office-appropriate attire? You never brought it up to him, but it bothered you that she got to see your husband more than you did.

But you weren’t any better. Since Hongjoong was absent most of the time, Mr. Park took it upon himself to keep you company. It was innocent at first. You helped him out in the kitchen from time to time, and after lunch, you two would walk under the never-ending green canopies and talk about anything and everything. And yes, you did develop a small crush on him, who wouldn’t? He looked like he was carved out of marble by Michaelangelo himself- perfect brows, plush and full lips, shiny black hair, and that voice. Velvety and smooth with a slight thickness that made you squeeze your thighs together whenever he called your name. It was just a harmless crush. Married women can have crushes, can’t they?

Then something happened at dinner tonight. You were upset. You had spent most of the day in the kitchen with Mr. Park preparing Hongjoong’s favorite dish for dinner. Only after setting the table, did you get a text from your dear husband saying that his meeting was running late and that, “you guys should just start without me.” So yeah, you were upset. Reasonably upset. And a little drunk because you drank more Pinot Noir than you can handle. And Mr. Park, like any nice host, comforted you while you ranted about your dying marriage and how badly you wished you never walked down that aisle.

It felt nice to have someone by your side and holding your hand while you quieted your sobs. Just his presence alone put you at ease. He said he knew how it felt to be lonely. He said a lot of sweet things that you couldn’t remember. Honestly, everything leading up to it was a blur, but the one thing you couldn’t get out of your head right now was when his hand moved to your bare thigh.

“You deserve to be ravished” was all he said before he leaned in. You were shocked at first, but you didn’t pull away. His lips were intoxicating, and you were desperate to have more of him. He worked his hand up your thigh, and you automatically spread your legs apart to make it easier for him. You could feel him smile into your lips at the impulse, and he didn’t hesitate to cup your clothed heat. He swallowed up all your moans and palmed over your wet panties with his skilled hand, his thumb flicking over your clit just the way you liked. You wanted to straddle him right then and there, let him rip your clothes off and ravish you over the dinner table, but suddenly you felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. You realized what you were doing and pushed Mr. Park off you.

“I’m sorry I…I have to go to my husband.” You panicked before fixing yourself and running up the stairs to where your loyal husband was waiting for you, leaving a disheveled Mr. Park behind at the dinner table.

Your heart was stuck in your throat. You worried that Hongjoong heard something, or worse, saw you with the Innkeeper’s hands stuffed inside your panties. But to your relief, he was blissfully unaware of your adultery. He apologized for missing dinner, and when you didn’t react to his apology, he started up with his sweet talking and kissed up your neck before pulling you into bed with him.

You were disgusted with yourself. Yes, your marriage was in shambles and you were unhappy, but this wasn’t the solution. You thought you were better than this. You still loved Hongjoong and would never in a million years think to hurt him like this. But if that were true, why were you sort of bummed that you ended things so abruptly with Mr. Park? Why did you secretly wish you two had just continued? Were you seriously thinking about another man while your husband was inside of you?

You turned your head to the door. Could he hear you two? You knew he had to have heard the creaking bed, at least. Does he think you're a slut for that? For letting another man touch you and then immediately go and have sex with your husband? You wondered if he was watching. Maybe he had a hidden peephole and was watching you from afar, stroking himself to your wet sounds. Thoughts of his cock flooded your brain. You knew he had to be big- bigger than this. He’d probably fill you up just right and it would only take a few pumps before you were creaming all over his-

No. Snap out of it.

“Feels so good Joongie,” You whined, worried he might think something was wrong from the lack of noises coming from you. He gripped your hips tighter and slammed into you even harder.

“Almost there baby” He groaned. How romantic.

Your eyes were still glued to the door. What if he really was watching you? From the keyhole maybe? Should you put on a show for him?

You brought your fingers down to your heat and gently rubbed your clit. You thought about Mr. Park’s mouth. It was probably the prettiest mouth you’ve ever seen. How badly you wanted them peppering kisses all over your body. You let out a string of moans while you worked yourself faster. They were getting louder and more urgent, in hopes that maybe he could hear you reaching your high.

You took your other hand and squeezed your breast, your eyes still studying the door. If he were watching, he’d find you absolutely stunning right now. Hair a mess, slightly covering your eyes but thankfully your mouth was visible while you moaned and held your lips agape. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself seeing you play with your most sensitive spots while taking it from the back. You were absolutely filthy and it was all because of him.

“Joong, I’m gonna-” You grasped your breast tighter and prepared yourself.

One last thrust and he reached his high with you. His cum leaked out of you and dripped down on the sheets. You sighed, slightly annoyed because now you have to change the sheets before bed.

Hongjoong fell sloppily next to you, chest heaving up and down as he caught his breath. He looked over at you, pleased to see how fucked out you look from his cock. It boosted his ego just a little bit.

“I don’t think you’ve ever been that vocal before babe.”

“Shut up and get me a towel.”

The next day you spent avoiding Mr. Park. You let Hongjoong go down for breakfast without you and stayed in bed, claiming that you were having a stomach ache and that you just wanted to rest for a bit. You couldn’t face him, not after last night. You went a little overboard, for sure, and you honestly felt nothing but shame about it. What were you thinking letting another man touch you like that? You’re married! And what if he heard you making those lewd sounds last night? At this point, you just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

You told yourself it was a weak moment. A sudden lapse in judgment. A drunken mistake that will never happen again. It wasn’t your fault anyway. Mr. Park basically threw himself at you. No, you were a good wife because you ended things before they got too far. And those fantasies…they’re just fantasies. All that happened last night was that you made love to your husband and went to sleep. That’s it.

Everything was going fine until dinner came around. Hongjoong took your quietness and the newfound desire of staying in your room all day as a sign that you were still mad at him. So to make amends to you and to Mr. Park for skipping out on dinner last night, Hongjoong decided to drag you out of bed and force you downstairs to the dinner table with him. He really had to decide to be a present husband now? It was just your luck.

“Foods delicious Mr. Park, as always. Thank you” Hongjoong complimented. You forced yourself to keep your head down, too embarrassed to be sitting across the very man who could ruin your relationship with a snap of his fingers. Mr. Park noticed your discomfort. He almost found it amusing and wondered if he should mess with you a little.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He spoke so calmly like nothing had happened between you two last night. Meanwhile, you were struggling to get even your first bite down your throat. The whole situation had you uneasy and you were beginning to think of an excuse to leave the table.

“And thank you for taking such good care of my wife,” Hongjoong smiled at you. “I know I’ve been away for most of the trip, but I’m glad she had someone to spend time with while I was handling my work calls.”

You could’ve just ignored the calls and let some interns deal with it.

“It’s my pleasure,” Mr. Park swirled his wine glass. “But you know, if I had a wife like yours, I’d let all the calls go to voicemail.”

You froze in your seat. What was he doing? Hongjoong, even if he may seem uninterested in you at times, still felt possessive over you, especially when other men gave you unprompted compliments. You worried he might take the comment the wrong way, but to your surprise, he seemed oddly okay. Hongjoong took your hand into his and gave it a small squeeze.

“Yes, she is a beauty, isn’t she? You should see the wedding pictures. I’ve never seen a more beautiful bride.” Hongjoong smiled at you fondly.

“I bet.” Mr. Park took a long sip of his drink while staring intently at you. You felt hot under his gaze and tried to busy yourself by shoveling the rice around your plate. Suddenly, you felt something snaking up your leg. You darted your eyes across the table to a very smiley Mr. Park.

“So, how did you two meet?”

It was an innocent question, but you wished Mr. Park wasn’t playing footsies with you under the table while you and your husband recanted your love story.

“We met in college” Hongjoong began. “It was, what, junior year?”

“Senior year.” you smiled through gritted teeth.

“Right, senior year. Anyway, we had a group project for one of our classes, and none of the group members ever reached out. The deadline was approaching, so we decided to work on it in the library without them. And when that was over, we became friends, and then at the end of the semester, y/n confessed to me.”

Mr. Park leaned in, intrigued to learn that it was you who pursued him. “Y/n confessed to you?”

Hongjoong blushed. “Yes, she beat me to it! Took the words right out of my mouth. We’ve been together ever since.”

“That’s just surprising to me, that y/n confessed to you first. She doesn’t seem like the type of person to just…open up so easily.”

His foot inched even higher up your leg, and he toyed with the ends of your dress. You knew what he meant by opening up. You thought back to last night, feeling stupid over how quickly you spread your legs for him. Your cheeks were flamed now, and you silently prayed that he’d stop before Hongjoong noticed how much of a mess you were becoming.

“I guess I’m just special.” Hongjoong smiled, gleefully unaware of what was going on under the table.

“So, how did he propose? Sorry, I’m just dying to know. I get a lot of couples here, and I love hearing their proposal stories.” His gaze shifted back at you. You were in no state to talk right now, but Hongjoong and Mr. Park eagerly waited for you to retell the story. With Mr. Park’s touch getting dangerously close to your heart, you struggled to get even the first few words out.

“I-It was during our vacation in P-Prague.” He was right between your legs now, rubbing at the skin between your thighs. He looked at you innocently, like he wasn’t making a mess of you right in front of your husband. You were scared that Hongjoong could somehow notice what was going on. Tucking your anxious thoughts away, you continued telling the tale. “W-we were just about to go skiing and then-”

He finally made contact with your clothed clit, rubbing his toe up and down at your aching bud. The sudden motion made you jump out of your seat, causing your chair to fall back onto the ground.

“Honey, are you okay?” Hongjoong asked confused. He placed his hand on the small of your back, furrowing his brows in concern. You quickly pulled your dress down, feeling out of breath from the sudden rush.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m feeling well tonight.”

Before anyone could say anything more, you gathered yourself and scurried out of there. Hongjoong got up and followed after you, asking you over and over what was wrong. Mr. Park sat back and smiled to himself before taking another long sip of his wine. He loved seeing you flustered. He made it a goal to see you like that one more time before you left.

Hongjoong was like a wave. There were periods when he would be absolutely enthralled by you. He was more attentive, caring, and sweet. It was like you could see a glimpse of who he was when you first met him all those years ago at the library. Of course, the rising tide always has to fall and the periods of sweet and caring Hongjoong went back to careless and overworked Hongjoong. Like right now.

“Do you really have to go?”

Hongjoong shimmied into his pants, running his hand over his dress shirt to tuck it in. He got a call from work and was asked to come back to the office.

“I told you, honey if it were up to me, I’d stay here with you. But the Anderson group is thinking of pulling out, and I’m the only one who can talk them out of it.”

“But you’re on vacation. We’re on vacation.”

Hongjoong sighed before sitting down on the bed next to you. “I know, I know, but I told you. This merger is huge. We can’t lose it.”

You crossed your arms and looked away from him. You were too angry and too tired to continue arguing. Hongjoong slipped his fingers underneath your chin and force you to look back at him. He leaned closer to you, now speaking in a lower and more serious voice.

“This can be big for us. I’m doing this for you, for us.”

You pushed his hand away from you. You wanted to spit at him, to tell him that you couldn’t care less about a merger and that you know he’s doing this for him, not you. But again, you were too tired to argue so you held your tongue. “You’re really just gonna leave me here? With that guy?”

“That guy is a wonderful host who has been nothing but kind to us. And I’ll be back before lunch, okay?”

Not waiting for an answer, Hongjoong pressed a quick kiss on your forehead before he started to head out. Now you were all alone. Wonderful. Your friends back home must be dying to hear how your husband ran out in the middle of your vacation to go to work.

---

Now came a new dilemma. After a few hours of laying in bed, you started to feel hungry. You thought about going downstairs to get something quick to eat, but you worried that you might run into Mr. Park. You didn’t want to see him, not after what happened last night and the night before. But your hunger pains grew more difficult to ignore, and you had no choice but to sneak downstairs for a quick snack.

The fridge was fully stocked. You don’t think you’ve seen a fridge this well-stocked than when you visited your parents’ house last Thanksgiving. You scanned the shelves of its contents, indecisive over whether you should take a couple of string cheeses or the freshly made berry yogurt parfait. You figured there wouldn’t be any harm in taking both.

“If you were hungry, you should’ve come down for breakfast. I made your favorite.”

The voice coming from behind you made your stomach churn. You took a deep breath before closing the refrigerator door and turning around to face Mr. Park. His gaze on you made you feel small, even though he was a couple feet away from him.

“I-“

Mr. Park walked up to you, slowly closing the gap between you two. You held your breath as you two were chest to chest now, his eyes heavy on you. Before you could say anything more, he cut you off again.

“You’re in my way.”

After realizing he needed access to the fridge, you stepped aside for him. You watched him as he opened the door and bent down to look at his inventory. “You still like your eggs French, right?”

You had told him about the time Hongjoong and you went to France for your honeymoon and how you’d eat creamy French style scrambled eggs for almost every meal because they were too good to have just once a day. “Yes.” You said in a small voice.

Mr. Park took out a carton of eggs, butter, milk, and chives before closing the refrigerator door with his foot. Juggling all the ingredients in his arms, he flashed you a quick smile. “Good.”

The whole situation was odd. You felt like you couldn’t leave so you stayed in the kitchen while he prepared your eggs. You couldn’t deny that you didn’t enjoy the view. Watching a handsome man with a kitchen towel laid over his shoulder, preparing you your breakfast was any woman’s dream. But you weren’t just any woman, you reminded yourself. You were a married woman. Out of shame, you looked down at your feet and forced yourself to keep your eyes off from him. Mr. Park noticed and smiled to himself.

“Come here.”

There was that voice again. Even saying something as simple of a demand as come here made you melt into the floor. You hated how every essence of his being- his voice, his eyes, his touch- made you weak and hopeless as ever.

“Why?” You managed to ask. He smiled to himself again as he reduced the flame under the pan.

“Just want to show you something.”

After hesitating for a short while, you finally walked over to his spot at the counter. You watched him as he whisked the eggs over a pan of boiling water, his arms flexing a little as he did so. “You always temper them over a low heat. That’s what makes them nice and creamy.” It seemed like he was acting as if the last two nights didn’t happen and was continuing with the small cooking lessons, he’d give you whenever you helped in the kitchen. You nodded along as the eggs began to curd. Suddenly, Mr. Park stopped whisking and handed you the whisk. “Now you try.”

Unsurely, you took the whisk from his hand and moved closer to the stove. He gave you a nod to proceed. You tried to mimic his whisking, but Mr. Park immediately stopped you, clicking his tongue at your lack of experience in the kitchen.

“No, no, no.” He stood behind you now and you could catch a whiff of his cologne. It was salty and breezy, almost like the ocean. It was a nice scent. Much calmer than the intense sandalwood Hongjoong would wear. “You’re going too slow. You have to be fast or else they won’t cream as nicely.” He took the whisk from your hand and demonstrated for you. You tried your best to pay attention, but it was hard with his scent overpowering you. He stopped his demonstration and handed you back the whisk. “Now take some of the butter and mix it in.”

You did as instructed and dropped a few cubes of butter into the eggs. You began whisking as he told you to, unsure of whether you were doing it correctly. Honestly, whisking eggs wasn’t difficult, and you hated that he made the most mundane tasks so difficult for you.

“Just like that.” He said into your ear. Your breath hitched after feeling his lips ghost over your ear. You pulled yourself together and continued on with your task, trying your best not to show any weakness. But he noticed and was smiling to himself the entire time because of it.

“Now take the spatula and mix it all together one last time.”

Putting the whisk down, you took the spatula from the counter and did as you were told. The eggs looked just like the ones you ate in France and a small smile spread across your lips from the accomplishment.

“Good girl.”

It was like every cell in your body melted into one another. Good girl. He had no idea what he was doing to you, and you no longer had the restrain to hold yourself together. Mr. Park feathered his lips around your ear lobe before taking it into his mouth. You whimpered as he suckled onto your skin, biting back any moans that threatened to escape your mouth. His hands made their way to your chest, tracing his fingertips over your nipples before giving your breast a tight squeeze. His hands felt so good; no matter how hard you denied it, your body would always betray you. From the goosebumps prickling over your skin, your hardened peaks, and the wetness pooling between your legs, Mr. Park knew he had an effect on you and there was no way either of you could back out now.

You felt him press himself into you more. His hardness was hard to ignore and that only made you needier for him. Unable to hold yourself back, you wrapped your arm behind you and palmed over his cock. Mr. Park’s breathing grew shakier as he grinded himself into your hand. Unable to hold back any longer, Mr. Park placed a hand on the back of your neck and gently tried to bend you over the counter, while using his other hand to drag your dress up. Before he could do so, your conscious rang in and the overwhelming rush of guilt and disgust took over and ultimately led you to push him off of you.

"We can’t” you panted, scrambling to fix your dress in case Hongjoong walked in.

“Why not?”

“I’m married.”

He laughed. “Just a few days ago you said you didn’t want to be.”

“That was before. Things are different now.”

He stepped closer to you. “Oh yeah? And where is he now?”

“He’s um…” you looked down at your feet, “he had to go to the office for something.”

“The office? During your vacation? Sounds to me like he hasn’t changed at all.”

You were starting to grow impatient with him. Who was he to act like he knew anything about your marriage? “You don’t know my husband. You don’t even know me.”

He took another few steps closer to you. “Oh, I know you, y/n. You’re easy to read.” He continued walking towards you, making you take a few steps back as he talked, “I know you’re unhappy. You have been for a while now. I know that you’re desperately holding onto something that you know is seconds away from falling apart. I know you're lonely…you just want someone to pay attention to you, don’t you?”

He had you cornered now. You gasped when you felt the wall up against your back. “Am I right on the money?”

“I-I love him” you stuttered. The way you said it didn’t sound too convincing. But it was true, he was your husband and even if things were complicated at the moment, you still had feelings for him. Right?

Mr. Park kneeled down in front of you, not affected by what you were saying to him. “Okay.”

“And what we did…it was a mistake.”

“Okay.”

“A-and…and he can never know about this.”

His lips caressed over your skin, leaving a trail of lazy open mouth kisses up your leg. “Okay” he said in between kisses.

“I made a vow” you warned, but your words weren’t enough to stop him. His head slowly disappeared under your dress, inching closer and closer to your wet center. “T-this can’t h-happen. Ever.”

“Then tell me to stop,” he spoke into your skin, “tell me you don’t want this.”

Your head grew dizzy from how close he was to your aching cunt. You wanted to tell him to stop, but the words failed to come out of your mouth. His kisses halted right before he got to your center, “Should I stop? Or can I keep going?”

You were glad that he couldn’t see you from under your dress, or he’d probably laugh at your fucked out expression. His fingers gripped onto your panties and pulled them to the side to reveal your glistening cunt. Your wetness being exposed to the cool air made you shiver. Mr. Park cooed at your dripping cunt, “Doesn’t look like you want me to stop. Or do you?”

“No, please,” you breathed out, finally giving in, “keep going.”

After you gave him the green light, Mr. Park lunged at your heat, lapping up every bit of your essence. He loved that he could draw out so many broken moans out from your lips with his tongue alone. He suckled over your clit, allowing himself to moan one because of your taste and two because he knew that would drive you over the edge. He was right.

“Mr. Park!” You wailed, trying to grab his hair but your dress was still draped over his head. Somehow, not seeing what he was doing down there made the experience even more delicious because your body was truly at his whim.

“Call me Seonghwa.” He mumbled into you. He then inserted one of his fingers into you, continuing to suck over your clit as he did so. Your head fell back against the wall and you wished you had something to hold on to because Mr. Park had no intention of being slow and gentle with you.

“T-too fast!” You cried. “Gonna cum!”

He could feel your walls clenching around him, forcing another moan out from his lips while he licked and sucked at your pussy. He used two fingers now and quickened his pace, the squelching sounds from your wet center along with his hand slapping into your cunt filling up the room and ultimately making your cheeks redden in embarrassment.

“Go ahead. I wanna taste your cum.”

And with that you bucked your hips up, the wave of pleasure almost making you fall over. Mr. Park kissed your inner thighs as you came down, careful not to touch your pussy as you were still sensitive from your orgasm. Unveiling himself from your dress, he stayed on his knees and gazed up at you, completely allured by how gorgeous you looked right now. You felt the same way, loving the way your arousal coated over his lips like a gloss. He had no intention of wiping it off.

Mr. Park was upset that he didn’t get to see you when you reached your peak. He was too consumed by your taste and pretty and whiny moans that he missed out on it. How badly he wanted to see you when you were pushed to the edge like the time at the dinner table. He remembered promising himself that he’d see you like that one more time and he decided to start another round.

“Get on the table.”

With how eager you two were, if there were any place-mats and dishes on the table, you would’ve pushed them off the table all dramatically. You laid on top of the table, your dress completely discarded and thrown to the floor. All that remained was your bra which failed to cover one of your breasts fully, and your panties which were still pushed to the side. Mr. Park lined himself up with you, rubbing his tip over your swollen bud.

“So fucking wet” he breathed. His cock breached into you with ease, but your eyes welled up from the stretch. He was bigger than you were used to but your pussy swallowed him up perfectly. Once he was fully buried into you, you gasped at how full you felt. Mr. Park didn’t wait for you to get used to him and began rocking into you with no remorse. You had nothing to hold onto but your breasts, kneading them in your hands as he set his own pace.

“You know, I could hear you the other night.”

You suddenly felt shy. “And?”

“You wanted me to hear you, didn’t you?”

When you didn’t answer, Mr. Park grabbed you by your waist and pulled you closer to his pelvis. He pushed his hands onto your lower stomach, feeling his cock slide in and out of you. The pressure on your stomach felt so good that you thought you could finish any minute now.

“You were calling out for me, weren’t you? While your husband was fucking you. I bet you wanted me to watch, didn’t you?” He teased. You were too far gone now, he fucked every sense of composure and reason out of your system, so you gave in to his teases.

“I wish I just let you take me on the table that night, your cock feels so good.” You admitted. He chuckled before bending down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips. He was sloppy with his kisses, jamming his tongue into your mouth to explore yours. His hand reached down to reunite with your heat again, and he rubbed small circles over your clit as he pushed himself deep into you. You moaned into the kiss, your vision getting dizzy with pleasure.

Mr. Park pulled away from you, making you whine from the loss of contact. He pushed your legs up more, gripping onto the back of your thighs as he drilled himself deeper into you. You could start to see him losing himself into you, his release imminent. Your pussy felt so good to him, and he wondered what pathetic loser could give up such good pussy for an office job. Although, he didn’t want to bring that up and kill the mood by bringing up your husband.

He could last a lot longer than this, but your tight walls and the rush from being caught at any minute pushed him to his release earlier than he wanted it to. He groaned as he emptied himself into you, and you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. Once the aftershocks went away, he made two or three more long strokes before completely pulling out of you. You hummed seeing his cock completely drenched in your and his cum.

“Seonghwa” you called. He looked down at you with hazy eyes, immediately knowing what you wanted. He leaned down again, reconnecting his lips with yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moving your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. It had been so long since you’d been taken care of like this and you almost wanted to cry when his lips trailed away and kissed your eyes, forehead, cheeks, just anywhere on your face that he could get his lips on. You knew what you two did was wrong, but you’ve never felt this loved in such a long time.

After he retired and laid his head on your chest, you held him close and signed into his hair. “Why did I have to find you now?”

taglist: @sanjoongie @seonghwasstar @iffyleafy @cosmic-w0lf @luvanterx @belletiny @0809wrld

#not happy with this one but I've been editing this for the past 5 months and just wanna move on #park seonghwa smut #seonghwa smut #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #seonghwa fanfic

598 notes · View notes

smokedruid · 1 day

Text

Come On, Cowgirl (the ghoul x lucy maclean) part 1

word count: 2.6k

after the events of season 1's finale, lucy and the ghoul embark to find lucy's father and finally get some answers (as well as maybe a bit of revenge). on the journey, they find they have more in common than either might have imagined.

"Don't Meet Your Heroes"

The Ghoul didn’t speak a word for more than half a day before Lucy couldn’t take it anymore.

At first, his silence felt like a gift - the first kind thing he’d done for her. It gave her a chance to pick apart all of the things she could and should have said to her Dad before he flew unceremoniously away in that stupid suit.

God, how had she been so blind?

Coming to the surface had meant discovering that everything she’d ever known, the foundation she built her whole life on, was a lie. That much would have broken anyone else from 33 - but Lucy would be different. She may have lost her finger, probably her health, and most of her dignity, but she had her father, and she was determined that once he was freed, he would make things make sense again.

Right. That had worked out well.

After those first few hours of silence, she started catching sideways glances from under the Ghoul’s tattered hat. His eyebrows were lowered and cast a shadow over his sunken eyes - well, they would, if he had any - but he never looked longer than a moment. They’d crossed the ridge of the mountains by now and the settlement where she’d left Max - who was hopefully conscious, by now - had vanished over the horizon.

“Surface trained the chatterbox outta you, huh?” he finally spoke after her knees had started aching from the downhill climb. Despite feeling moreover glad that he wasn’t looking at her anymore, this sparked a hot irritation in her gut.

“What would you do if your mom was a ghoul and your dad turned out to be a megalomaniac?” she retorted hotly, then instantly felt sorry. He didn’t turn around to look at her - he hadn’t even when he first spoke.

“I din’t turn into this by sittin’ on my ass and drinkin’ lemonade, you know,” he replied, and again, his head twitched, but he didn’t look all the way around. Shame blossomed into a warm pool at the base of her chest and she bit the inside of her lip guiltily.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that,” she replied softly and a grunt answered from ahead of her. She wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a word lost behind his yellowed teeth.

After a long moment: “You knew my dad.”

At this, he slowed down, allowing her to catch up to him - something she could have done if she really wanted, but was now forced to. He stopped for a moment to examine her, his mouth working like he was chewing imaginary tobacco. Maybe he really was chewing tobacco. She wasn’t sure.

“Yeah,” he nodded. He turned that word into a three-syllable affair. Ye-a-wh. Nobody had accents like that in the vaults. In movies, maybe, but not thick as his. Everything he said was muddled. “I’m guessin’ this’sall new information for you.” he turned away again to keep walking, but this time she kept pace at his shoulder. Well, below his shoulder.

“Yeah,” she echoed dully. “I guess I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.” he rested a hand on his holster and she flinched back before he turned a bemused eye on her.

“Ain’t gunna hurtcha. Not now, anyway, that wouln’t do me much good.” he took the shotgun from his side and dropped empty casings to the ground to reload it absently.

“Well that’s good to know,” she replied flatly, but he made no sign he’d heard her.

“Wha’d you do with your daddy down in the vaults, hm? Play catch with jello moulds or sum shit?” he was clearly joking, but a heat was creeping up her throat and making it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. She shook her head, even though he wasn’t looking.

“No. I helped him with work, sometimes. We walked. Watched movies,” Lucy hated that he could hear the thickness in her voice, the first hints of tears, even if she wouldn’t let them fall. It had been a rhetorical question anyway. He re-holstered his gun with a snort.

“Walked where? In circles?” he looked up and Lucy quickly turned her face away, feigning interest in the barren waste to her right. “Movies,” he repeated, and she got the feeling he’d caught a glimpse of her flushed face. Was this really better than being waterboarded for bait?

“He liked westerns. So that’s what we watched,” she shrugged, not sure why she was entertaining this conversation when the silence had been so peaceful by comparison.

When she felt composed enough to turn back around, his bare eyebrows had raised, elongating his red, fleshless face.

“Westerns, huh?” one end of his mouth was pulling up as if by an invisible fish hook.

Lucy thought the word ‘smile’ was a little generous in describing whatever his mouth was doing. Not quite a smirk. Not genuine enough to be a smile. She nodded, surprised at his interest. She didn’t know how old he was exactly, but probably old enough to have been to a movie theater, she realized.

“Big cowboy fan. I r’member that about him.” the sentence almost made Lucy flinch.

It seemed impossible to imagine her dad outside of a vault, let alone alive before they ever existed. With him. One thought led to another, and before she realized what she was doing, her eyes were tracing the Ghoul’s jagged profile and trying to imagine hair, skin, a nose. She only had to squint a little to achieve the illusion of skin, but frankly, picturing him with a nose seemed incorrect.

“I got sum’n on my face?” he asked before Lucy could realize he’d caught her eye.

“No. No. Sorry,” she fixed her eyes to the powdery dirt under them. He let out what Lucy thought might be a chuckle, but it quickly turned into a dry, wheezing cough. “Did you like westerns too?” she asked the ground, hoping to steer the conversation away from touchier topics - for both of them. He laughed again.

“Feo, fuerte y formal,” he gave her a wry side glance and she felt herself smile before she could stop it. God, her dad had loved that movie so much - she must have seen it a dozen times, at least. Fallen asleep to it a dozen more.

“You are a fan!” the lightness returning to her face and voice made her feel more like herself than she had in several days. Instead of the exasperation that he’d met her with before, he seemed amused. Maybe still in a slightly derogatory way, but Lucy decided this was better than being waterboarded.

“Doesn’t take a fan to know that line. Couldn’t walk into a theatre without that movie hitt'n you in the nose.” this confirmed Lucy’s suspicion that he had been to a movie theater. She tried not to be a little jealous. And not to imagine him with a nose again. In a theatre. With his wife.

He’d said he had a wife, right? That conversation was a blur that ended with the single clear picture of her father leaving.

“I, well,” Lucy began, her talkative nature kicking back in without help. “I used to have a big crush on one of those actors, when I was younger.” This caught his attention more than she’d expected. He turned his whole head to shoot her an amused stare.

“Really, now? I pit’ured you with some button up prairie boy, but you like an outlaw, don’tcha, sweetheart?” he was needling her now, provoking her, but she couldn’t help but earnestly respond.

“No, no, the good guys,” she insisted, to his greater entertainment. She knew he was making fun of her on some level, but couldn’t bring herself to be truly irritated. “You know, the heroes.” he nodded back slowly.

He was definitely making fun of her.

“Lemme guess… Fred Larson,” he mocked hitting a button like one of those old game show contestants. “Real prim and proper, just like you.” For some reason, this made her cheeks glow again and she shook her head, still smiling.

She wasn’t sure why she was smiling except for the fact that it felt so good. Like it was the only way to crack off the hard exterior these last few weeks had caked onto her. He said he wasn’t going to hurt her, and right now, she believed him. So she was smiling.

“No- that one actor, from that movie- Cooper… Cooper Howard!” she struggled to remember his last name. Sitting on a couch, sitting down to watch a movie, god, that felt like another lifetime. It was hard to imagine being that carefree again.

When she looked back up at him, he wasn’t smiling anymore, so she stopped too. “Feo fuerte y formal. You know,” she repeated stupidly, and he nodded.

“Yeah. Not my fav’rite,” he shrugged, and she frowned. Hadn’t he just quoted that same movie?

“Too heroic for you?” She tried to tease, but his eyes turned sharp and she fell quiet again. Something she’d said had irritated him, and she flipped back through the conversation, but he was as unpredictable as fire. Whatever it was, all she could do was try not to say it again… somehow. “Who did you like, then?” she tried to redirect, but he seemed to have lost the appetite for conversation.

“‘S been a long time.” he replied indifferently, so Lucy let their walk return to silence. They continued that way until sundown.

Lucy didn’t know if the Ghoul slept, but she certainly needed to. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him exhaust himself once that first time he’d kidnapped her. Probably all of those drugs.

“Can we stop here?” she finally asked faintly, holding a stitch in her side. Maximus was certainly larger than her, but the Ghoul was taller. Longer legs, longer strides - more effort to keep up with his normal pace. Max had also slowed down for Lucy. The Ghoul didn’t slow down for anything.

He turned to look back at her like he’d forgotten she was there.

“‘Lrght,” he grunted back.

They’d stopped close enough to some wreckage that would make for decent cover, despite being half buried in sand and dust. You couldn’t find much untouched by sand or dust up here, Lucy had learned.

The Ghoul, as she’d predicted, didn’t show signs of sleeping. If he did, she doubted he’d ever fall asleep first anyway. He slid down against a wall and drew out a wad of cigarettes from his coat before lighting one. Another appeared before her as she laid her bag out like a pillow on the floor. An offer. She wrinkled her nose.

“No thanks,” she replied, and they disappeared back into his trenchcoat.

“Suityrself,” he shrugged, taking a long, satisfied draw of smoke and releasing it in lazy curls. Whatever had happened earlier had closed him off, and he was still just as reserved.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked, knowing that best case scenario, he'd just laugh at her. Granted, she had learned her interpersonal management skills from books, but still.

“Nope,” he replied, not looking up at her from the twisting smoke between his fingers. His hat was low over his eyes, so all she could see of him in the dark was the pulsing glow of the lit cigarette.

“Okay…” she replied, unconvinced. She couldn’t gauge what his ‘normal’ was. Nothing about him was normal. “If it was about the movies-” she began, unable to stop herself. The interpersonal management guides always urged you to fix a conflict before putting it down, and clearly, it had trained her well.

“Wha’d I tell you?” he tilted his head up just enough for the embers to illuminate the bottom half of his face. It almost looked normal in the dim light, where you couldn’t tell his nose was nothing but a cavity, and his skin merely looked blemished, instead of raw. “If y’re worried about this-” he nudged his shotgun with an elbow, but she hurriedly shook her head.

“I’m not. I just…” she couldn’t find a good enough reason.

I just can’t leave things well enough alone? Well, that was true at least. I have a stupid, inexplicable urge to make everyone like me, weirdly - especially - you? She definitely couldn’t say that… even if it were the truth too.

“...I thought you liked westerns,” she finished lamely. He snorted hard enough that it ruffled the clean spirals of smoke leaving his mouth.

“I watched ‘em. Never said I liked ‘em,” he replied simply.

Lucy had been so spoiled, she realized that now. When talking to people from the vault, their tendency was often to over-speak. If you stood still long enough in front of someone from 33, you’d probably walk away with their life story and entire known genealogy.

He was completely the opposite. Simple and blunt, just like his features. Nothing about him was accommodating. Not his stride, not his words, not even his stupid face. She scolded herself inwardly - his face wasn’t stupid. Even if it was, she wouldn’t say something like that.

“Is it… you don’t like Cooper Howard?” Lucy had told herself that whatever button she’d pressed, she wouldn’t press again. This conversation proved that she was failing that completely.

“It’s no wonder you’re such a good girl,” he replied with a lazy sort of meanness. “All those movies fillin’ your head with horseshit about fairness and fuckin’ apple pie.” she was surprised at his response and remained still, arms wrapped around her knees habitually.

“Well, it’s good to have a role model, isn’t it?” she replied weakly and he grunted out a laugh. Half of his communication came in grunts.

“Not up here, sweetheart. When y’re busy chasin fuckin’ fairytales, you can't see when you're about to catch a bullet in your head.” he never seemed to get angry. Irritated, yes. Mean, yes. But after so long, nothing seemed to really ruffle him.

Again, probably the drugs, She reminded herself.

“Well, sorry,” she bit back, the words coming out more pathetically than she was intending. “I just thought we finally had something in common.”

A long silence followed this before a deep sigh. When he inhaled on the cigarette, and the embers burned brighter, she saw he was frowning.

The conversation was over. She turned over to rest her head on her bag.

“C’mere,” a low murmur came from behind her, and she glanced back over her shoulder. The light had completely dwindled now, and the only hint anyone was there was the small circle of light and its trail of smoke.

“What?” She replied hoarsely, her face growing oddly warm.

“C’mere,” he repeated, and raised his canteen to his face so his cigarette would reflect on the metal. She understood now, and shuffled forward, not looking to turn him down. Especially not after whatever had just happened. It had felt like an argument, but she didn’t have the faintest clue what they’d been arguing about.

He waited until her knees were nearly brushing his boots and she was all but inhaling his secondhand smoke to lean forward and motion for her to open her mouth. When she didn’t see it the first time, he brushed her chin with a gloved knuckle and she opened it obediently.

She was too obedient, always.

She tilted her head back and let the warm, metallic water fall into her mouth. It tasted awful, of course, but after several dry days, it was heaven in a bottle. He indulged her for slightly too long before retracting the canteen, forcing her to remember herself.

She closed her mouth hurriedly, feeling exposed so close to him in the dark and crawled back to her spot on the sandy floor.

She watched the glow flicker on the wall while he smoked his cigarette dead, and by the time the light had faded, Lucy was asleep.

AN: this will probably be 4 or 5 parts so look forward to those soon! this is also on ao3 under my same user :]

49 notes · View notes

cometrose · 2 months

Note

Here is your one (1) free pass to yap about the stupid ass adeptus gang and their shenanigans (i love zhongli having been the Tired Responsible One for his entire life... he would 100% buy/have been gifted the 'proud mother of a couple of dumbass kids' shirt)

zhongli and his adepti are like one of my favorite bands of characters alongside itto and his arataki gang they are so funnyy

the adepti appear to be very serious and strict which they are but they are also insane???? Part of the story as a whole is to show that the divine aren't too different from humans and this includes the adepti.

Streetward Rambler and Guizhong arguing about music so Morax had to take away the bell after Cloud Retainer tattled? Cloud Retainer lending Moon Carver and Mountain Shaper her cooking device that they still haven't given back? Or that one time Cloud Retainer built a snowmobile with Guizhong and Ping before Moon Carver crashed it and it took hours to dig him out of the snow? All 3 of the so called elite adepti and even the god of liyue himself trying to help some kid reconcile with his father?

the adepti are all very unserious very much freaks of nature.

I think about the Yakshas as well especially Menogias, poor guy was born to style forced to slay. It's funny how his designs were so intricate that none of the fellow yakshas wanted to wear it but he was so stubborn about it that even Rex Lapis couldn't change his mind. In fact there is not enough Morax and his yakshas lore. Like please i beg every day for Zhongli to talk about people in his past. I know he wont but I want to believe anyway.

A part of me believes that once Zhongli quit being the geo archon and moved to the harbor, cloud retainer, moon carver and mountain shaper had a terrible case of empty nest loneliness. We all know how that turned out for Xianyun but I expect it's only a matter of time before the other 2 come closer to the harbor as well. Perhaps to follow Zhongli around like lost ducklings.

In one of Xianyun's character stories, Zhongli had a commission for consultancy but he was busy and just sent her to do it. I'm gonna tear up but the idea that Zhongli knew this task would be perfect for her and just sent her on her way is just the cutest.

Also in her voiceline for Zhongli, when she told him she was coming to the harbor he basically gave her a shopping list of things to do and how to arrange her home. I love the idea of Zhongli stepping into Cloud Retainer's new house and just instantly moving the furniture to ensure proper Feng Shui. Like the list was so extensive that CR got overwhelmed -like her of all people- getting overwhelmed with knowledge is amusing.

Moon Carver is one of Rex Lapis disciplines so its clear that even amongst the older adepti that Zhongli is a still a teacher and won't hesitate to lecture them. These days I am sure he trying to be a more relaxed person but old habits are hard to break.

I haven't even talked about Zhongli and Xiao which are my favorite dynamic in the entire game I love when they are together. But Zhongli slowly trying to get Xiao to open up and experience the beauties of life and get closer to humanity every lantern rite I might weep. Like lying about stupid sesame seed oil last year and now hes flying kites this year, Zhongli is playing some incredible 5D chess to get Xiao to visit him more without explicitly saying it. BECAUSE he knows if he tells Xiao to see him he will but he doesn't want to force Xiao to come he wants him to come on his own means.

Kind of reminds me how Zhongli keeps birds. Ya know he has like bird cages where he keeps birds which he then takes around but based on his disposition I believe Zhongli is an expert and keeping birds to stay. Just building them homes and cages and of course he lets them come and go freely but some of them find his homes so nice that they decide to stay with him. So yeah I think Zhongli is deliberately treating Xiao like a bird that will return to him by his own means.

Anyway I would love love loveeee to put all the adepti in a room and just watch them work. Like CR, MC and MS are bound to start an argument while Xiao tries to linger in the corner, Ganyu tries to attend to all of them while Ping and Zhongli just laugh in the chaos.

Damn, the fact I haven't seen Ganyu and Zhongli interact since the Liyue archon quest is a crime, they are the only Zhongli relationship that I am craving to see (other than zhongli neuvillette). I want to believe it is just because Ganyu would blow his cover instantly. She would have to bite her tongue to avoid calling him Rex Lapis.

Speaking of Ganyu the fact one of the first thing CR says about her is that she was once so fat she rolled down as hill? Or in Zhongli's voicelines he implies she is stronger or even fiercer than she looks so much so that she would be embarrassed by his lack of delicacy when describing her.

I have mentioned this is another post but it's kind of sweet how much the adepti like Zhongli. He is more than their god but also a very treasured companion and friend. First he always calls them his friends ("a friend approaches" AND THEN XIAO APPEARS). But like god forbid you are rude to him because they would storm off or snap at you (Xiao and Xianyun). Don't disrespect him or they'll hate you for years (Ganyu). But at the same time he is a friend that eats dinner with them during Lantern Rite or a friend they make fun of for making square cups.

Of course I imagine there is a lot of respect in their relationship and a noticeable power imbalance. I kind of imagined that with becoming "Zhongli" Morax not wanted only to become closer to humanity but also bridge the gap between himself and the adepti. Show them not only the beauty of a world led by humans but also to come to them not as their overlord but as a treasured friend. The adepti clearly hold him in very high esteem recognizing his sacrifice, strength and good of heart.

WHICH is why i'll never accept people who call Morax a tyrant because the adepti saw Morax out and about and were like "damn im gonna follow this guy for the rest of eternity he's so cool".

I also think it is hilarious how Zhongli has influenced the adepti and how they just kind of absorbed some of his personality traits. Part of the reason Ganyu is so dedicated and hardworking to the point of exhaustion is because of how much she looks up to Rex Lapis, she even states that her work could never compare to what he has done for Liyue so she pushes herself even harder.

Or Xiao the most loyal of the adepti who still works tirelessly to this day because of his contract. I believe the adepti especially the younger ones were like "he works so hard and sacrifices everything i will do just that!".

Even Yanfei who has never formed a contract with him still maintains that hardworking attitude but without the self-sacrifice so she is like the perfect Liyue citizen in Zhongli's eyes.

anyway I have some thoughts on adepti shenanigans i would love to see

Adepti feast, put them all in a room I expect a very elegant and mature feast but I also expect someone to break something. Maybe they will behave themselves with Zhongli next to them maybe they won't we have to see. In fact put Shenhe and Yaoyao there too lets cause problems

Adepti shopping spree. Xianyun and Zhongli are terrible they will buy anything they set their eyes on. Xianyun falls for marketing scams but then there is Zhongli who won't fall for scams but buys everything at full price anyway. They reek absolute havoc in the shopping district once they get paid.

I am on my knees please please give me a Zhongli and Ganyu interaction i am not so greedy to ask for specifics just please just please (also more Zhongli and Ping interactions hell throw Guoba there too).

I will accept any Xiao and Zhongli interactions like anything i love them together.

Like i said its only a matter of time before MC and MS show up in the harbor and I can't wait to see Zhongli tease them.

Zhongli teasing the adepti!!!!!! Zhongli in disguise "OH NO I am a poor helpless mortal how could I ever compare to the adepti" they are fuming but they can't argue with him. they can only tolerate his teasing until they are alone.

Zhongli gets harassed by the Liyue public for disrespecting Rex Lapis and the adepti had to step in and tell them that it’s alright

Xiao with the strength of the gods: Mr. Zhongli did nothing wrong

Citizens: He called Rex Lapis a bum?

Xiao: He didn’t mean that he’s sorry

Zhongli: No i’m not! I think he was a fraud!

Xiao: Forgive him

Anyway please give us more adepti and please let them interact with Zhongli more. They are always so bashful and sweet in his presence so I must have an interaction I must.

#zhongli #ganyu #xiao #xianyun #adepti #genshin impact #it took me some time to think about this one

57 notes · View notes

beanghostprincess · 3 months

Note

Transfem Buggy anon here to drop a silly valentines idea-

1) don't worry too much about speeding through asks, sweetheart, you're doing fine. Take your time and do your thing at your own pace. Anyone has an issue with it? I'll fight em 😤

2) IDEA TIME

So imagine Buggy getting absolutely SMOTHERED in valentines days gifts - from friends, underlings, allies, secret admirers (she thinks they're all fake or lies), and her partners of the year.

She and Alvida do a Self Care Self Love event (maybe include Uta and Perona bc smth about them being so supportive of Buggy coming out as trans and just so easily slotting her in to girls night makes me soft).

Ritchie wears a special Valentine's Day bow, and he gives extra lion licks to his favorite people. He doesn't quite get the whole concept of HOLIDAYS beyond that it makes his humans so happy and silly and so he too is happy and silly. Lion loves.

Mohji and Cabaji, every year, make Buggy a gift for Valentine's. She gives them little gifts too, but theirs aren't conventional - they were there from the beginning, and so they've seen the best and worst of each other. They're besties your honor.

After Impel Down, Buggy wakes up on Valentine's to a MOUNTAIN of cards, candies, stuffed animals, flowers, and balloons. Maybe half of them are signed. It's a long ass affair to organize them.

When she starts dating Crocodile and Mihawk, they hadn't seen the Karai Bari Variant of Valentine's Day. Needless to say, when they wake up and walk with Buggy to get breakfast, they are both BLINDSIDED and BAMBOOZLED by this veritable TON of gifts. Buggy just sighs. "Guys. Really?"

"WE LOVE YOU, CAPTAIN BUGGY!!!"

"I can't eat all this. Okay, line up, I'm passing out candies at random. Consider this a treat before breakfast."

"CAPTAIN BUGGY IS SO GENEROUS AND KIND!!!"

"I- ya know what, sure, whatever. I haven't had coffee yet. I don't feel like arguing."

Crocodile and Mihawk though are surprised when she offers them a soft smile and... two boxes? "Open them when you want to, boys, no rush."

She gets a delivery later on in the day, a crate with a blue rose painted on the top. She huffs. When asked, she shrugs it off. "Shanks is still being a damned sap."

He sends her presents as often as he can - with a relatively ser address for Karai Bari, she is more easily accessible, which makes him go a little overboard. In the crate are her favorite candies (ghost pepper flaked dark chocolates), soft stuffed animals, new clothes, a dress, flowers and silly trinkets. ((And maybe a little treasure map he made just for her)).

Buggy would give thoughtful gifts - smth for Croc's bananawani nursery or specialty cleaner for his jewelry, new seeds for Mihawk's garden he mentioned wanting once in passing or new cording to rebrand Yoru's hilt, etc.

She also ties her hair up on holidays, puts on an apron, and joins the cooks in the kitchens. Cooking is smth she's good at, if a tad embarrassed by, but baking if her favorite thing to do. It's like chemistry and showmanship mixed together, two of her most favorite things. Getting the chance to indulge in it is smth she rarely lets herself have, but she makes exceptions for certain days.

And if Mihawk and Croc, knowing this by that point, pooled together to get her her own supplies to indulge more freely in their shared space, away from prying or attentive eyes, well...

Valentines Day isn't exactly a cliche on their little handmade home, but the sentiment, the intention, the love is there.

((And if Buggy just so happens to send a few batches of Shanks' favorite cookies to him a week after the day, well, he'll treasure them!!!

Until he eats himself sick, that is.))

1) Thank you <333 That's really sweet 😭🧡

AND THIS IS ALL AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A bit late to Valentine's Day (sorry, really akjjddnjk) but I absolutely adore it. Buggy loves Valentine's Day and the thought of everybody getting her gifts and also enjoying the holiday on her island is so cute,,, Everything is perfect and tbh, after coming out as a woman is even better because she's finally able to do it as herself. I think she wanted to do it really bad when she was a kid.

Her crew is so silly,, And having a whole day with Perona and Alvida makes her feel so loved,, Crying and sobbing. Also, Crocodile and Mihawk aren't used to celebrating these things, so now that they're with her they're surprised by how much they enjoy it. Not the holiday itself because in general it's extremely annoying and they do not want to be there with all this drama-- But they do like seeing her happy and giving her gifts <333 Why have mafioso-looking boyfriends if they aren't going to shower you with gifts, you know? And also, they're losers for her, which makes it better.

#i love cross guild being cute it lives in my mind rent free #everything about this is amazing thank you #one piece #buggy the clown #cross guild #transfem buggy

56 notes · View notes

ladylooch · 1 month

Text

How Country Feels - [Mack X David]

A/N: I am so excited to bring this to you today for many reasons. First of all, it’s Mack and David in Iowa. So we know it’s smutty and adorable. BUT! Mostly I am excited to give this as a gift to my bestest bestie @casualhilarity. You graduated!!!!! From your really tough 6 week training program and I am so so so so so so proud of you! There was never a doubt that you would be successful in this adventure. This step is just the beginning for you. I cannot wait to see what is next! In the meantime, please enjoy our thoughts on Iowa coming to life in the longest post I have ever made on Tumblr 🥹💜

Word count: 8.2k

Warnings: mentions of death, cancer, grief, smut (18+ content)

10,000 feet above Des Moines, Iowa, Mackenzie Hischier looks out the window as her plane begins to descend from her connecting flight from LAX. She has been flying across the world for almost 18 hours trying to get here. Queenstown, New Zealand was home for her the past three weeks. Her internal clock is all sorts of fucked up from the massive time swing she is going through, but she was able to sleep in sync with the Central Time Zone on her first flight. She is hopeful that will curb some of her jet lag.

The landscape below is much different from the crystal blue water and rigid mountain peaks she came from. Instead, it is flat and vast, various different shades of greens and brows. It’s also windy. She scrunches her nose as the plane swings a bit to the left before continuing on at a smoother pace. There is not much out here to block the wind, but thousands of windmills dot the prairie below them to capture the best energy source nature can give this area. Mack has never been to Iowa, or the Midwest outside of Chicago, which doesn’t feel or look anything like what she is seeing.

Shortly after landing, Mack walks out of the secure area, heading down to baggage claim 2. As she gets closer to the carousal, she sees a tall man with a thick black mustache, blue jeans, and a plain white t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he leans against the wall by baggage claim 2, boot clad feet crossed over at the ankles. A worn, NYR baseball cap is on his head, hiding his green eyes that are devouring her even as they hide in the shadow of the bill. Mack can see the toothpick in his mouth as she gets closer. He pushes off from the wall, starting to walk towards her. Never in her life did she think she would do this, but her pace quickens and she hustles her ass across that tiled floor to be picked up by him.

“Hi!” She exclaims as she throws herself at him. He catches her easily, hauling her up his chest, both big hands clutching her ass.

“Hi honey.” He grins up at her. Mack licks her lips, then puts them on his. He squeezes her tighter into their kiss. “Mmm, missed that. Missed you.” He lets her slide down his body, Vans hitting the tile again. “Thought it was winter in New Zealand. How are you so tan?”

“There was so much sun! We got lucky pretty much the whole trip.” This trip was with two of her colleagues because it is a big feature with the magazine. Mack is grateful they had a photographer so she could focus more on the stories of the locals and less about getting the perfect shot for print.

“Good. Glad it worked out for you, baby.” He says, wrapping an around around her shoulders. “You tired?”

“Um, yeah. Don’t let me fall asleep.” She mumbles into his side.

“I won’t. You’re in Iowa now. We gotta work when we get back to the farm.” Mack’s eyes widen. She looks up at him with concern. David starts to laugh.

“I’m kidding. Work is done for the day.”

“But tomorrow?”

“It begins all over again. Gotta feed the cows, let the chickens roam, check fence, and a thousand other tasks.”

“Hard working boy.”

“Yeah.” He grins proudly. The beeping of the baggage claim alerts them before the metal begin to turn. David sees Mack’s bag and steps forward, easily hauling it off. “Just this?” Mack nods. “Let’s go baby.” He holds a hand out for her to take. She laces their fingers together, surprised at how rough his hands feel. Her gaze travels up his arm to his bicep, noting it is rock hard and bulging even without flexing.

“How long of a drive is it?” She asks after they are tucked into David’s big, black truck. He whips it fast and easy out of the parking spot, then roars the diesel engine out of the parking ramp.

“Ah, about an hour.” He tells her, sliding his hand over to cup her thigh. She weaves her fingers through his. He squeezes them tight. “Plenty of time for you to tell me everything about your trip.” Mack smiles, adjusting herself in the passenger seat so she can look at him while she talks. She loves talking to David. As great as everything else is with him, he is a great listener and always asks the best, most insightful questions about her work. She could talk to him for hours. When she is done, she switches the topic of conversation to him.

“Tell me about the farm. What can I expect?”

“Um,” He chuckles, nudging his hat up off his forehead to scratch an itch. “Well, it’s pretty quiet out there. We are about 15 minutes south of the town closest to us. It has been hot this summer, so I hope you got some summer clothes in there.” Mack does. She packed as accordingly as she could. “Hours are long. I’ll be up before you and come back around dinner time.”

“Oh, I thought you have staff?” Mack questions.

“I do, but someone needs to manage them.” David says. “My farm manager is off on vacation right now. Usually takes the whole month of August off and leaves it to me before he is back to managing it on his own when I head East.”

“Oooo, you’re the boss.” Mack giggles.

“Yeah of the farm and you.” He quips. Mack rolls her eyes. He is not the boss of her, but he can keep pretending he is.

“Am I gonna see you while I’m here?” She jokes. David licks his lips and nods.

“Yeah, I’ll be able to step away. I have some things planned for us too. Figure I could take you back up to the state fair next week. Get you something on a stick.” Mack gives him a weird look. “You ever been to a state fair? County fair? Nothing?” Mack shakes her head no to both. “Holy shit.” He chuckles.

“At least I don’t think we did when we lived in Jersey. I don’t know that was a long time ago.”

“A fair is where you eat fried food, mostly on a stick, and play games to win prizes, drinks some beer or other frozen drinks to stay cool. Farmers and 4H kids bring their animals to the fair to be judged.”

“What is 4H?” Mack wrinkles her nose in confusion. David looks slack jawed at her.

“Oh baby. It’s gonna be a whole different world here for you.” He laughs like it’s cute to him.

Mack feels the first itch of apprehension tickle her spine.

She has been all over the world, but she may be completely out of her league here.

- - -

The moment Mack steps out of David’s truck in the parking lot of the local watering hole, she can hear the consistent beat of the country song thumping in the tiny bar. David says its a bar, but to Mack it honestly looks like a shack she would avoid if she was alone. After getting a tour of the farm earlier, David informed Mack they were going to be meeting his friends for drinks. He has been talking her up all summer and they’re all eager to get a glimpse of this mystery woman who has stolen David’s heart.

Mack purses her lips for a moment, then looks down at her outfit. She is dressed in a flowing black, long sleeved top from Dior and Black frayed shorts from a boutique in Paris, paired with a Gucci belt. On her feet are black and white Nike Air Force ones. She has on various expensive, designer jewelry and a Prada cross-body bag her mom and dad got her for her last birthday. David had told her she looked good for where he was taking her. She feels very, very overdressed, like even her silk pajamas would be too fancy for this place.

“David.” Mack mumbles when she meets him at the back of the truck. He grabs her hand in his.

“What?” He asks. He is in dark jeans with a blue and white, light weight flannel. His sleeves are rolled up his forearms, exposing his tattoos and the tan skin from a summer of hard work. He took a shower and styled his hair perfectly with a crisp part and a perfect swoop.

“I am so overdressed.”

“What do you mean?” He asks. “You look great?” Mack doesn’t know how to tell him that she is pretty sure her outfit costs more than this bar does. “Don’t worry about it. You’re beautiful and sexy and you’re walking in on my arm. No one is going to mess with you.” Mack snorts and then starts to laugh.

“I wasn’t thinking that, but I’m trying to make a good impression.”

“Babe, they are going to love you. Trust me.”

Within an hour, Mack senses that isn’t going to be the case.

She can feel the judgement. Detect the way it crawls over her body from his friends. The looks of “not one of us” and the whispers between the girls. She has been talked about enough behind her back throughout life to know when it’s happening right in front of her face. It started when she tried to order a Paloma. The bartender had looked at her like she grew a second head. She glances at David nervously.

“Curley, it’s tequila, grapefruit juice and lime. You got all that shit behind the bar.” David gestures to the wall of liquor.

“You wanna come make it David?” Curley asks.

“Fuck. Sure.” David shrugs, going behind the bar and showing Curley how to put the drink together. “You think you got that for next time?” Curley did not look like he had it for next time, so Mack switches to tequila and soda instead.

The conversation around her has centered on all things farm and rural life. What so and so is up to now. Who had a baby. Who just got divorced. Who was cheating on who. It all seemed very juvenile and uninteresting to Mack. David stayed out of it for the most part, listening along with Mack until his friends, Cody and Trevor, started talking Iowa Hawkeye football. Then she lost him to that.

Mack fingers the cocktail napkin that is soaked with condensation below her glass. It’s times like these where Mack feels so out of place in a country she is a citizen off. She knows this isn’t a full, direct correlation of America, but how can she be more out of place here than when she was in Tokyo last year? Or she can get down and dirty in the rice fields of Thailand and feel more connection with locals who don’t speak the same language than she can in the center of the country she was born in.

David’s lips on her temple break her internal discourse. Mack smiles at him. He rubs her shoulder as if to ask “you good?” She nods at him, smiling reassuringly.

Dun, nu, nu sounds through the bar speakers, then the whole group slaps their hands on the table. “Woo!” They yell. Then Dun, Nu, Nu. Slap, “Woo!” The whole table erupts excitedly, as a man begins to drawl over the sound system. The table turns to look at David, screaming out the next lyrics, “You were raised on an asphalt farm!” Mack blinks, feeling lost. David tips his head back, laughing loudly.

“Davey! It’s your song!” A girl who Mack can’t remember her name, screams then chugs more of her Miller Lite.

“Get up and swing your asphalt girl around.” Mack’s eyes widen. David chuckles, tapping her thigh assuringly.

“No, we are good.” David knows Mack would rather be a metal sign on the wall of the bar than get up when no one else is dancing. Being on display is not her thing. She is grateful for that until she sees the sneering glares of the two women at the end of the table.

“Oh, she’s too good for dancing too.” Mack faintly hears.

Mack looks at David. She can tell he didn’t hear what she heard. Not surprising with how loud his other male friends are signing along to the country song. Mack looks down at the girls, noticing how they avoid direct eye contact with her. The blonde one puts her hand up to her mouth, whispering in the red head’s ear. Then they both giggle.

“No, let’s dance.” Mack suddenly says to David. She isn’t going to let two, small town, hick bitches intimidate her.

“What?” He responds, surprised.

“Yeah, show me what you got cowboy.” She jokes as she stands.

The entire table sucks in a huge, deep breath.

“Oooooooo She is in trouble.” One of the boys mumbles. David gives her a sympathetic smile.

“We aren’t cowboys, honey. We are farmers.”

“What is the difference?” Mack scoffs, laughing, thinking he is pulling her leg. David winces slightly at the large yelp of the table behind him, then grabs Mack, pushing her towards the center of the bar.

“I’ll show you later.” He chuckles, kissing her mouth.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, no. They’re just sensitive. Don’t quite understand how other people are outside of these state lines.” Mack gets quiet, retreating into herself again. David practically drags her around in a circle because she is shutting down internally. “Hey…” He trails off. “This is all new to you. It’s okay.”

“They don’t like me.” She looks at the center of his chest as she says it, not wanting to see the confirmation on his face.

“Nah, they just don’t know you, sweetheart. A lot of layers to your onion.” David can twist into any which way that he wants, but they both know Mack is right. They don’t like her… right now at least.

When Mack and David head back to the table after their dance, the mood at the table has seemed to shift. Now, they all ignore her.

“How is the herd looking, Trent?” David asks the guy across from Mack. David’s hand is around her shoulder, rolling his fingers in a circle over the thin material of her shirt.

“Should be a good year.” Trent says. “We really need it. Been hurting the last few.”

“Yeah, we all have.” David nods. “Weather has been shit. Can’t out work that.”

“We can sure fucking try tho.” Trent grins, then clinks beer bottles with him. David brings his over to clink with Mack’s glass. She does so. Trent sucks at his teeth, making a slight slurping noise after swallowing more beer.

“Mack, where did you grow up?”

“In New Jersey before we moved back to where my dad is from in Switzerland.” He nods.

“You have a job growing up or anything?” David cocks his head to the side at Trent. “I’m just trynna find something to relate to her with.” He justifies.

“Um, no. My parents wanted us to focus on school.” Trent sighs like he is disappointed.

"Must be nice to have a daddy who was able to give you anything you wanted. Didn’t have to work your way through high school to make ends meet.”

“Trent, knock it off.” David snaps. “Mack knows what hard work is.”

“Does she? Cause the rest of us aren’t thinking she does.”

“Hey, don’t speak for all of us.” Cody snaps. “Drink your beer and shut up.”

“I’m just thinking that it must be nice to have an NHL daddy who can call in a favor to get you a job where you barely have to work as an adult too.” David stands up, chair knocking back to the floor. He reaches across the table to grab Trent, hauling him up to a standing position.

“Apologize, right now, and I won’t smear you into the wood floor your daddy installed.”

“I-I-I’m sorry. I think I’m drunk.”

“No shit.” David sneers, shoving Trent back into his chair. The rest of the table goes ghostly silent. Other bar patrons look over their shoulders at the group. Mack is flaming red over the embarrassment of the words thrown her direction and David’s intense reaction. She is equally mortified and turned on.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Mack whispers as David kisses her cheek in reassurance. David gives her a sympathetic look, drowning apologetic eyes watching her as she heads to the back of the bar.

Mack goes into the first stall, leaning her back into the tiled wall and covering her face. She sucks in deep breaths, trying not to cry. This night could not get any worse. She wants to leave so bad, but she has never been one to back down from a fight. She isn’t going to start now. She doesn’t want them having the satisfaction of seeing her rattled and vulnerable. No, she’ll throw her walls up and fake charm the pants off them. But first, she is going to grab some fresh air.

She heads through the double wood doors, walking down the parking lot, away from the posse of smokers out front. Her arms are crossed over her chest tightly trying to fight off the chill. She doesn’t understand how it can be so hot in the afternoon, but cool down in the evening. Another thing about Iowa she just “can’t understand”. Tears sting her eyes a bit. She feels dumb. Why is this bothering her so much? That guy is a douche. She knows who she is. She shakes off his words, running her fingers through her hair. Mack knows its because she wants to belong here with David. And from her perspective, so far this trip has been less than successful.

A big, heavy jacket comes around her shoulders. She looks to her right, seeing David. His eyes are boring into her, studying her face.

"Looking at the stars?" He asks her.

"Mhm." She looks up at the millions of little dots. Now this reminds her of being in the Swiss Mountains. The same sort of inky black sky dotted with delicate twinkles. He runs his fingers along her shoulder, resting on the back of her neck. He guides her into his side.

"Talk to me, Hisch."

"I guess I don't have much in common with this version of you.” Her European accent drips into her voice. She is surprised to hear that. It only comes out when she is feeling emotional, creating a difficulty with keeping a Western dialect. David grabs the opening of his jacket on her, tugging so she turns completely towards him. He steps forward, crowding her space. He brings a big paw to her chin, tilting her face up to his.

“What version?” He asks, laughing it off. “Baby, I am who I am. No matter where I am.” He brushes her hair back behind her ear. “And you’re everything I’ve dreamed of.” Mack can see how much he means it. It’s in his touch on her cheek, in his gaze stroking along hers, in the sureness of his voice. She nods. He captures her lips. The kiss is soft, sweet sucks and gentle nudging of his tongue against her bottom lip. His other hand winds around her waist, pressing into her lower back to keep her tight to him.

David says the right things, but that kiss says more to Mack than his words ever could.

His lips on hers erase it all- the insecurity, the doubt, the not belonging, the not good enough.

He grounds her because he knows what she needs immediately, sometimes before she even knows. But tonight, it is his physical reassurance soothing her more than anything. He towers over her, shielding her from everything with his muscular body, and consumes her in a way that feels safe not smothering.

"Just say the word and I'll go back in there to straighten Trent out." Truthfully, having him storm back in there would be so fucking hot. She would get to watch him teach Trent a lesson and get all hot and bothered between her thighs.

“What is the other option?” She murmurs.

“I take you home. We can spend the rest of the night by ourselves.”

Mack contemplates what home entails. She wants him to hold her hand in his dark truck the whole way home. She craves for him to undress her slowly in that small house. His boots hitting the floor at the foot of the bed while he urges her to lay back so he can take his time undressing her. She needs his rough, calloused hands on her soft hips as he pulls her panties down her legs. Then she wants him soft and slow, gently thrusting deep into her in a missionary position as he irritates her lips with his mustache.

And that’s exactly what Mack gets.

“You look so good for me, honey. So wet and soft and perfect. Take me so well.” He praises her from where he holds his weight above her. His hot breath dances over her face, coated in light beer and her from his previous perch between her thighs. Mack is blissed out, drunk on him and the stroking of him against the walls of her pussy.

“David.” She sighs, collecting him to her chest. He presses his to hers and then rolls his tongue into her mouth. He gathers her moans, sucking them up greedily so they are only his tonight. He fucks her deeper, harder, perfect bucks into her wet heat. “Fuck you’re so good. So fucking good.” She cries.

“Yeah? Best?”

“Yeah!” She yells.

“Say my name, sweetheart. Say who makes you feel this good.”

“You! David!” She howls.

“Good girl. My girl.” He groans. Mack’s inner walls clench him, pulling him deeper with each flutter of her getting closer and closer to the edge. Her heels dig into his butt, forcing him to stay right fucking there. She turns her face into his neck, sinking her teeth into him as she comes.

Afterwards, David plays with her fingers as she lays on his sweaty chest. He kisses her forehead, inhaling the scent of her deeply. He keeps his face there afterwards, as Mack starts to go limp in his arms. Her eyelashes brush gently against his warm skin. He shifts her hips a bit, turning to the side so she can lay more comfortable in the crook of his arm.

“Goodnight, honey.” He whispers on her forehead. Then kisses her a final time before leaving her to her slumber.

- - -

Two weeks into her trip, Mack is still having some trouble adjusting to Iowa. Every thing is completely different here. The grocery store, the little town he took her into, the restaurant options and drinks, even the air is different! It’s laced with manure and dust, making her nose plugged up so she constantly has to drainage. Her eyes have been almost swollen shut every morning of that first week.

“Do you have allergies?” David had asked her. Mack didn’t think so, but she’s also never been to a place quite like this. After a few days of Zyrtec, Mack can finally breathe through both nostrils.

In celebration, and because she is admittedly very bored, she gets into the shower. It’s the only thing in the farm house that is modern. David likes to take long showers after working in the field all day to get clean and relax. He’ll bring a can of Coors Light in with him and have some alone time. Mack thinks is is adorable, getting to see his self-care routine in Iowa. He doesn’t do this after games in NYC, but she thinks that might be because his adrenaline is usually still roaring after hockey. His favorite post-game routing has seemingly been sex.

After getting clean and putting on some light make up, along with a sundress, Mack got to work putting together a meal for them. She opted for easily transported items like chips, sandwiches, and cut up fruit. Then she made some lemonade from the cup of lemonade mix she found in the pantry. David loves Lemonade down here. She is starting to enjoy it too. This time she puts fresh strawberries in for a little extra sweetness.

Mack glances out the front window to where two farm hands are working. She puts her feet in the cowboy boots David got her at the boot store in town when she first got here. They are more broken in now and are no longer hurting her feet, so she feels comfortable wearing them for today’s excursion. Then she grabs the basket and steps outside.

Mack covers her eyes with her hand, looking out at the vastness of the farm. David took her on a tour her second day here, but she doesn’t remember anything. She worries about getting lost out there. She double checks that she has her phone. At least she seems to have good service here.

“Um, hi.” Mack says nervously as she walks up to the two farm hands by the barn.

“Hi Mackenzie.” They greet her happily. Something about being the boss’ girlfriend she is sure.

“Mack is fine. Um, do you know where I can find David?” She holds up the basket with their lunch. “I want to bring him lunch.”

“Oh, he is in the far back 40 on the edge of the farm property.” One of them says.

“Okay. And I can get there with that?” She points to the small utility vehicle they whip around on the front of the farm.

“Yeah….” They trial off, giving each other a look. “Do you know how to get there?”

“I know everything branches off from this road, she points to the left. But after that I am a little lost.”

“I can take you.” The older one, who seems to be more in charge says. “We can take the truck.” Mack nods. “I can put that in the bed for ya.” He hoists it over into the truck bed, then they both get into the cab.

“What is your name?” She asks once they start down the dirt road. Rocks kick up against the mud flaps and the underbelly of the truck, making her have to yell a bit over to him.

“Felix.”

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles politely. “Thank you for taking me.”

“Of course. Mr. David says you are our special guest. Can’t let you get lost out here.” Mack blushes, biting her bottom lip.

“Oh I don’t know about that. How long have you worked on the farm?”

“About 25 years. I worked for Mr. Chuck before Mr. David.” Mack knows Chuck is David’s dad. She doesn’t ask, but wonders if he was there when Chuck passed away on the farm.

“That is nice. You must like it here?”

“Yes, they are fair to their workers and their families. Last year, my wife had cancer. The treatment was expensive. We had to travel up to Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. But Mr. David paid for the whole thing and kept my job. My wife has now been in remission for five months.” Felix does the sign of a cross then kisses his lips in praise.

“Wow.” Mack murmurs. David never told her that.

“He is special. Nothing like his siblings.” Felix’s face seems to cloud over. “We are happy he bought them out of the farm.” Another thing Mack wasn’t aware of. “He has made changes, some hard to learn at first, but all have been good. For us and him. More money and security. People on other farms around here want to work for him the most.” Pride swells in Mack’s chest at hearing that.

Felix turns to the right, heading away from the road and out for a few minutes. They come over a hill, down into a valley where Mack see’s David’s black truck. She frowns, realizing he is out here working alone.

“Is he always out here alone?” She wonders.

“No, just today.” He says. “It’s a hard day for him.” Mack furrows her brows, but nods along. He didn’t say anything before they left. He seemed normal too.The truck comes to a slowed stop. David is working along the fence line. He wipes his forehead with his forearm, looking up at the truck. He sees Felix, then grins huge when he sees Mack.

“Felix! Look at you bringing me pretty little things after busting me for that in high school.” Felix roars with laughter, his big chest shaking as he leans out the rolled down window.

“This one seems a little less crazy.”

“Eh, you don’t know her like I do.” David winks. He tosses his tools into the cab of his truck. “Stay here, honey.” He says to her. Mack stays put, letting David come to her door. He opens it up, then gives her his hand to help pull her down safely from the high farm truck. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I brought lunch to you.”

“Oh?” He wiggles his eyebrows, then drags his gaze along her body in her blue, linen sundress.

“Actual food.” She fills him in. He quips a smirk at her, then leans down to kiss her.

“Basket in the back, sir.” Felix says.

“How many times do I have to say not to call me that?” David rolls his eyes.

“How many times I gotta tell you it’s about respect?” Felix quips back. Mack smiles. She likes Felix a lot. She can see herself getting to know him more over the next few weeks.

“Fine. Hey, when you get back up can you tell Becks to get to the N.E. pasture and start working some of the cows into N.D. pasture instead? I don’t think I’m going to get to that today.”

“You bet. I’ll have Reed go with him too. That kid needs to get the hell off my project.”

“He’s a little wild.” David acknowledges. “That’s why he is with you.” David reminds Felix who sighs heavily. “Look what you did with me.” He grins.

Felix waves and drives off back to the barn after David hauls the picnic basket out of the back.

“I brought a blanket too.” Mack pulls it out of her bag that she had slung across her shoulder. David drops the tailgate of his truck, then lays the blanket along the back.

“That’s good otherwise your thighs would be burning in that short dress.”

“Is it short?”

“Honey, you know it is.” He slaps her ass to prove his point, getting some of her bare cheek against his palm. Mack leans forward, feeling the fabric slide further up her thighs as she digs in the picnic basket. David runs his fingers up from her knee to cup her ass. He reaches for her arm, pulling her away from the food. “Want something else first.” He sighs against her mouth.

“What if someone comes to find you?” She weakly protests. She had this in mind for lunch too.

“They’ll call me.” He murmurs against her mouth. “Trust me, I don’t want any of my guys seeing you, honey. I wouldn’t take the chance if I didn’t think it was safe.” Mack nods, believing him completely.

He wraps an arm around her waist, pinning her tight to him. His hard cock protrudes from beneath his zipper, pulsing for Mack to touch. Her fingers, clutch the back of his neck, feeling his skin sweaty and hot beneath her fingers. He smells sexy like sweat and deodorant that works just as hard as her man. It’s hot, sexy as fuck to the point that Mack wraps her leg around his waist to grind against him.

David moves his mouth from hers and presses kisses along her throat. He sucks her skin hard into his mouth at the nook of her neck and shoulder, then continues down. Mack arches back, letting her head fall back so he can access her chest completely. His lips continue their path over the swell of her left breast, then he nudges the fabric to the side. Her nipple pebbles in the sunlight, pink and beautiful, just for him. He opens his lips, pulling it in. His tongue strokes over her sensitive peak, then creates a wet trail to the other one, grabbing it between his lips. He lets that one go with a final slurp, then goes back to kiss her mouth.

“Mmm.” Mack hums. Her fingers go to his belt, working it apart. She pulls his hard length out of his jeans and underwear, stroking along his shaft, feeling the velvet skin tight in her hand. She works her fingers up to his head, stroking until his slit releases pre-cum.

“Fuck.” He groans, breaking away from their kiss. David turns Mack, lifting her dress up over her ass and pulling her bare skin back to his. He works his cock between her ass, savoring how she grinds her cheeks against him while he holds her tight by her stomach. He kisses her shoulder, tasting her warm, vanilla skin.

“Bend over.” He growls before she reaches between their bodies and holds his balls, stealing his breath. She rolls them over in her hand as she lays forward obediently. Her right cheek presses into the blanket she brought. David moves her dress up, pulling her thong underwear down for her ankles to hold. David strokes his cock as he puts two fingers at Mack’s entrance, testing her. She is soaked, almost dripping down those creamy thighs for him. He curses again, then plunges into her welcoming heat.

Mack’s arms stretch above her head, gripping the blanket in her palms. Her hard nipples stroke against the ridges of the truck bed with each direct thrust of him into her. David works his hands off her hips to the front of her thighs, keeping his hands there to protect her from the lip of the tailgate. His lips kiss her spine, then he get into position to fuck her hard and fast just like she begs for. The truck suspension squeaks from his powerful pumps.

“So good.” Mack calls back. She opens her eyes, taking in the surrounding Iowa wilderness, grinning at how sexy it is to be fucked by this man right here. Maybe she could be a country girl after all. She giggles.

“What?” He asks her.

“Maybe I am a country girl.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you will be.” He laughs, slapping her ass with his abdomen with each drill of his cock into her.

“Oh.” She groans, felling like a completely, coming undone mess at what he is doing with her. His unhooked belt slaps the outside of her thigh as it swings. She moves one hand from above her head, bringing it to her clit to roll it in rapid circles. “David…” She moans loudly, letting her voice go, carrying out across the field.

“Mmm, yeah. Let the world hear you baby. Let everyone know who’s pussy this belongs to.” He brings a hand under her stomach, arching her lower back and hips up so he can drive at a different angle. Mack’s eyes roll into the back of her head, almost securing to her brain at how incredible his cock feels pressing into her velvet circle.

“Right there. Davey, please don’t stop. Never stop.” Mack wails.

“Not until you coat this cock, sweetheart.” He assures her. “This what you wanted, huh? Made your man a little meal so he would stuff you full of his thick cock?”

“Yeah!” Mack admits shamelessly. “Ohmyg-“ Mack chokes on the last word as the intensity of her orgasm rips the breath from her lungs.

“Oh fuck. Baby yes.” He moans, losing control at the hard flutters of her around him. “So fucking good, baby. Perfect for me.” His hoarse voice coos at her as he paints ropes of cum on her walls.

Their heavy breathing makes them hot, sweat beginning to bead along their spines as they lay limply against each other on the truck bed. Then, David straightens up, gliding himself out of Mack gently. She whimpers at the emptiness, wishing he would stay there for a little longer. He delicately drops her dress back over her butt after bringing her panties up into place. She turns, leaning on the tailgate as her legs shake. David tucks himself back into his pants, buckling his belt before focusing back on her. He grips her chin with his thumb and pointer finger, giving her a soft, wet kiss.

“You are amazing.” He sighs. Mack grins into their kiss.

“You too. Never felt like this.” She whispers, holding him by the back of his neck against her forehead. Never thought she would admit things like this to someone either. But as per usually, David is scratching out all of her rules and rewriting new ones, like spending weeks in America’s heartland and turning down jobs from her editor.

“I’m starving. What did you bring us?” David asks, picking her up and setting her on the tailgate behind her so she can reach the picnic basket. She brought them turkey sandwiches with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and homemade pesto mayo she put together yesterday afternoon. All the flavors have marinated deliciously together, creating a flavor bomb in her mouth.

“Holy shit. This is amazing. Thank you!” His genuine appreciation makes Mack’s chest warm. She smiles coyly, with her mouth full of food. He leans down to kiss her. Mack gently chews the rest of her bite, looking over at David who is devouring his sandwich is two more huge bites. She chuckles, then licks her lips before speaking.

“So Felix said today is a hard day for you?” Everything about David’s demeanor changes like a snap. His face darkens. He begins to fidget next to her, slightly pulling away as his body gets rigid. He sniffs, then takes a big glug of lemonade from the mason jar.

“Yeah.” Mack hesitates, remaining quiet while watching him stuff some chips in his mouth. Then she puts her sandwich down on the plate next to her, turning to sit facing him. She puts her hand on his thigh, continuing to stay quiet until David sighs heavily. “My mom died ten years ago today.” Mack stills, then rolls her bottom lip into her mouth.

“I’m so sorry.” David nods, clearing his throat.

“This date every year I come out here and fix fence and talk to her. Tell her about what I’ve been up to the last year. Cry a little bit. Then go clean off her and dad’s grave and put some fresh flowers down from her rose garden by the house.”

“That sounds like a nice way to honor her.” Mack murmurs, moving her hand from his thigh to his hand, lacing their fingers together. He brings the back of her hand up to his mouth, kissing along her knuckles.

“It is. Unfortunately, I’ve had ten years to get the tradition perfect.” He sighs. “Every year on this date though, it feels like it just happened.” Mack can imagine so. “Sucks.” He sniffs again. Mack rubs her thumb along the tendons of his hand.

“Will you tell me about her?”

“She was hilarious. Spunky as shit. Had to be with how crazy my siblings and I were in our younger days. We used to pretend to be super heroes and jump off the barn into the hay. It was all fun and games unless you were a bit off…. Or got pushed off like me.” Mack’s eyes widen. “But my mom was always watching out the window and would rip my brothers a new asshole anytime they were picking on me. She was strong and full of joy. She loved worked in her garden. A few of the plants have died off over the years cause of deep freezes, but most of those rose bushes are hers. I hire Felix’s wife to tend to them in the summer so they’re always taken care of. Mom would have wanted that, since she isn’t here to do it…”

Mack squeezes his hand then brings her other hand up to run over his back. She rests her mouth on his bicep, continuing to listen while holding him.

“I think that’s why it was so hard when she got sick.” His voices starts to get tight. Tears pinch Mack’s eyes. “That… but also she has missed so much. She didn’t get to see me graduate from high school or college. Didn’t see me get drafted or my first game in the NHL. At least my dad was there for those, but it wasn’t the same. He didn’t have the words like she would have when I struggled to stay up in the NHL those first few years or the way he rode my ass when I was home every summer to be a better farmer.” David shakes his head.

“It’s like every year something happens that I’m sad she isn’t here for. This year, I’m sad she doesn’t get to know you.” Mack’s bottom lip shakes as two tears go down her cheeks. He turns his lips into her hair, then continues to talk against her head. “She would have loved you- strong, independent, sassy, and so pretty you could bring even the most stubborn man to his knees.” Mack smiles, cupping his cheek to hold him against her. “Those dimples… baby.” He sighs, “they get me every time.”

“I hope she still likes me now… even from wherever she is watching over you.”

“I think so.” He smiles.

“Could I go with you to their resting place?”

“Yes, of course you can. I just gotta check the rest of this fence and then we can go.”

“Thank you for telling me. I didn’t know…”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t like talking about it. Probably why Felix told you.” Mack nods, understanding that Felix was looking out for David too when he told Mack about today on the drive down.

Mack and David finished their lunches and she helps him check fence. She walked the line with him and pointed out normal fence she thought looked bad and he taught her about what to look for instead. When they were done, they loaded up into David’s truck, then drove back towards the house.

The house is just comes into view when David peels off to the right and drives to an open unassuming field. There is no fencing, just in ground stones that mark the Carlson members that are buried on the farm. David grabs a bucket full of cleaning supplies. He gives Mack the flowers he picked earlier that had been resting in a bucket of water, then takes her hand to walk over to his parents grave.

Mack begins to cry immediately, feeling so overwhelmed with sadness for David. And his parents. For everything they have missed. For the people she will never know. For all the moments that David will never get to have with them and how fucking cruel it is that he has to go through that for the rest of his life. All those happy days will have a shade of grey because of who is missing. It’s not fair. She wants to change that for him, ease some of that, but instead, all she can really do is cry sympathetically.

When they get to his father, Charles E. Carlson’s headstone, David drops her hand and puts his work gloves on. He uses his tools to cut away the over grown grass and weeds. Then he grabs the soapy water and rags to clean the dirty away from the head stone. Mack kneels off to the side, by his mother’s stone, watching quietly, sensing her help is not wanted. This seems methodical and therapeutic to David.

He rests his butt on his heels while he looks down. He presses his palm on his dad’s name, then works his way to his mom’s and does the same thing. This time, wet tear drops fall from his eyes onto the dusty stone as he cleans the grime off. Mack swallows hard, new tears of her own falling down. David puts his left hand on his mother’s name, Beatrice. Mack reaches out, putting hers on top of his. David opens his right arm for her to slide into his side. Then he holds her close.

Mack doesn’t know, but while he holds her tight, David is telling his mom, where ever she is resting, that the girl in his arms is the one.

- - -

Mack can’t believe it is her second to last night here.

As different as it all was when she first got here a month ago, her and David have settled into a nice routine. Every morning starts early, with a romp in the sheets. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, always incredible though. After that, Mack wanders down in his shirt to make him coffee and some eggs to wolf down fast after his shower. She sits with him at the table as he tells her all the different chores he has for the day. She asks questions. He patiently answers.

Then, after a long smooch with wandering calloused hands, he heads out to the field. Mack will meet him for lunch, or if it’s too hot, he comes into the kitchen to take a break in the air conditioning. They spend 10 minutes of his hour long lunch eating and the other 50 devouring each other. On the tail gate, on the kitchen table, on the kitchen floor, on the couch- wherever they can make it to before their clothes start falling to the floor.

David will return back to his chores, then come home around dinner time. Him and Mack trade off making dinner. He likes to grill for her as she tries different self- prepared marinades with fresh produce from the farm’s garden. Then they end the night watching the sunset on the front porch, which is where they are right now.

The porch swing sways gently from David’s light rocking. A calm, cooling breeze blows through the wrap around porch that hugs the white farmhouse his family built generations ago. Mack thinks about her flight in two days that is supposed to connect her with Newark before she will turn around in 24 hours to head towards Aruba. Dread pinches her stomach uncomfortably. She has started to fall in love with this place and all of it’s differences that she hated 4 weeks ago. David is staying here for two more weeks. He would be returning to New York a few days after she gets home from Aruba.

Mack looks down at his forearm across her stomach. Her fingers tips drag along his tanned skin, watching the goosebumps form on him from her touch. An emotional sigh falls from her lips. His lips touch her hair in recognition, fingers pressing deeper into her side.

“You okay?”

“I don’t want to leave.” She confesses. He moves so her back falls across his lap. His other arm catches her head in the cook of his elbow. “Wanna stay here with you.” She whispers, reaching up for his face.

“Baby, if you wanna stay you can, but if you need to go, that’s okay too. There is a whole life of yours outside of me.”

“I know. But it can wait until I’m ready to rejoin it.” David smiles down at her. His fingers run up from her stomach, along her left breast, to cup her cheek. Mack presses up to meet his lips. His hand tangles in her wild, country hair, gripping her tight to his mouth so he can taste her thoroughly.

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay here.”

“I don’t.” She assures him, gripping his wrist where that hand still holds her face. His thumb rubs a track across her cheek bone, looking into her brown eyes.

“Okay. Then stay. I want that.” He admits. “Was feeling really sad in the field this morning, thinking about driving you up to the airport.” Mack smiles, nodding in agreement. He pulls her up to kiss him again, then lets her head settle in his lap as she wiggles down. Her hair splays across his thigh as he works his finger prints gently into her scalp. Her eyes flutter, wanting to close and give into how good this feels.

Mack loves the salty breeze off the ocean, the sand between her toes, and the way the pace of island life is unapologetically slow.

But not even that can compete with how good it feels here in David’s arms on his front porch swing.

More Mack & David can be found here.

#Mackdavid au #my writing #hockey fan fiction

30 notes · View notes

ironmandeficiency · 1 year

Text

the best gift

pairing: fíli / fem!reader

word count: 2975

summary: your husband is sent on a diplomatic mission to reestablish trade. this trip unfortunately falls during your first birthday in erebor as fee’s betrothed

a/n: my march piece for the year of themed creation ( @yearofcreation2023 ) that i didn't finish in time bc life sucks ass. nâthuê kurdu means “daughter of my heart”, & namadith means "little sister" in khuzdul. the stone gifted to the reader is amazonite. also, see if you can find my “blind burglar” reference lol (that series has taken over my brain holy shit)

“do you truly have to go, fee?”

fíli’s forehead gently thumps against yours, his hands holding you close. “i’m sorry, ghivashel. i wish i didn’t have to go until after, but there’s only so much that can be done from such a dístance.”

you knew he was right, that reestablishing trade to erebor was crucial in gaining a sturdy foothold in the mountain. and since he’s the heir apparent, he has to uphold the duties of his status.

that doesn’t make fíli missing your birthday any less dísappointing.

“i promise you, my love, i will make every effort to be home before your special day.” his lips press gently against yours and you let yourself go in his embrace.

with a playful tug on his braided beard, you bid him safe travels before he mounts his pony and rides off.

~ two weeks before your birthday ~

from the day he set out, fíli wrote you all sorts of letters. their contents ranged from how deeply he loved you, to what he had to eat a few days prior, to the weird mannerisms of animals he encountered (there was a ferret that followed him for two whole days that he named thistle, silly little thing). at the end of every letter, for his own reassurance, he wished you a happy birthday in all sorts of flowery language courtesy of balin’s lessons. if the ravens knew he did this because he was frightened of the letters not reaching you in time, they probably would have pecked him a new orifice or two for doubting their efficiency.

the latest letter (and all the others before) had arrived courtesy of a raven named jessamy, a sweet hen that made her favor for your husband over the other royals very much known. she chittered softly at you from the windowsill to get your attention before squawking just loud enough to rouse you from your concentration.

“princess consort! another letter from your husband!”

rising from your desk, you approach the window and give the faithful bird a good chin scratch. “i told you, jess, you don’t have to use titles with me. we’re far beyond all the formalities.” your hands deftly untied the missive from her leg before inviting the raven inside.

it was tradition by now: every time you received a letter from fíli, the loyal raven was offered food and rest on a special cushion you had made specifically for her while waiting for you to pen your reply. jessamy was quite the conversationalist and far more favored company compared to many of the nuisance nobles that now occupied the mountain. the two of you would gossip about your respective circles and duties with afternoon tea before she carried your reply to fee.

she fluffed her wings with indignance. “being an adult or not, i think adad would have my tail feathers if he heard me being so casual with you and prince fíli.”

it took no small amount of willpower to keep from guffawing in your friend’s face. “you think roac is constantly professional with thorin? i’ve heard him on no less than three occasions call uncle an absolute fool!”

“‘do as i say, not as i do’ is a phrase i’ve heard since before i could fly, if that provides any context.”

you chuckled at the turn of phrase that sounds eerily like something thorin would say. “well, the offer still stands, my friend. you know my name and have freedom to use it however you please.”

“duly noted, princess,” her tone told you that she wasn’t planning on doing so anytime soon. dropping the topic, you choose instead to sit and read fíli’s latest letter.

my dearest love,

the weather has been suspiciously kind to us this past week, but i cannot find it in me to look this gift boar in the mouth. we braved but a brief sprinkling from the heavens, and my company was graced with the sight of a rainbow. if i had any sort of artistic ability in my bones, i’d have spent hours simply drawing the colored light as it dísappeared behind the hills we previously crossed.

i saw the strangest mushroom a few hours after i sent jessamy back to you the time before this, far too late to include it in my letters. it was bright red and oozed something alarmingly bloody when fractured. it looked as if someone slapped a piece of venison onto a tree and called it a fungus. i sliced a piece off to give to oin, i believe he would appreciate it.

as your birthday draws ever nearer, i continue to fear that i won’t arrive home in time to celebrate by your side. as i have in every letter previously, i will remind you that i love you with every muscle and bone in my body. everything i do, i do in hopes i will continue to be the dwarf you deserve, to be someone worthy of your hand. happy birthday, my love. i’ll be home soon.

your prince,

fíli

the smile on your face hurt your cheeks. your dear husband was such a sap that he could rival that of every tree in the woodland realm.

the ornate wooden box you recently commissioned special from bifur sat on your desk, lying in wait for the latest letter to fill it. nothing could bring you to throw away any of the letters fíli has written to you, so you saved every single one all the way back to when you first met him, long before erebor was reclaimed. their new home was far more fitting than the tattered cloth and twine that kept them safe prior to coming to erebor.

would you eventually need to either size up or get more boxes made? most definitely. but for now, this latest letter would fit perfectly inside the box in front of you. adding the date it was received to the bottom, the parchment found its new home among fellow letters.

~ the morning of your birthday ~

fíli wondered, not for the first time in his life, why he allowed himself to be roped into the ridiculous plans his brother concocted. he had just arrived back in erebor mere hours ago, but instead of immediately running to you, here he was in a box. the one good thing was that it was surprisingly spacious, considering that it was, in fact, still a box.

it was all because kíli was unable to finish your true gift from him in time, which is to be a set of leather armor made from hide he collected and tanned himself. he asked dori for your measurements and to help with the ornate stitching he had planned, but other than that, everything was done by his hand alone. but his foolish brother had mistaken the month of your birthday for the one directly after, and now there was no time to see it truly complete.

that’s why he was in a box in the common room of the royal wing.

your party (or at least, the private one) wouldn’t commence until the early afternoon, but kíli was insistent on him staying in his paper-wrapped tomb until it was time. you were to receive gifts from your friends and family, and seeing as many of them would lend themselves to be something you would wear to the royal celebration, the private one would happen first.

at least his brother (and bilbo) were sneaking him food and drink from a sneakily hidden hole so he wouldn’t starve before the festivities began.

you woke up to the sound of your mother-in-law rifling through your wardrobe. rubbing your eyes to rid them of the crust from a good sleep, you broke through her whispered mutterings. “amad, what…”

she ignored you in favor of continuing to tear your room apart. “there’s no time, you should have been bathed and braided an hour ago!” at first you’re very confused, but then you remember the day.

groaning, you untangle yourself from your blankets, thankful that your husband warned you that amad would be in your rooms when you woke the morning of your birthday. you were in a more presentable pair of nightclothes than you would have been otherwise.

she heard you ruffling about and immediately approached you, her usual no-nonsense eyes also housing the fondness that only came from a mother. “oh good you’re up. there’s already a bath waiting with your favorite soaps, and when you get out your clothes will be waiting on your bed for you. i’ll help you dress, then we can braid your hair properly.” it was like she never stopped to breathe.

before you could even reply, she was shooing you towards the bathroom while tugging at your nightclothes. “now off you go! no daughter of mine will arrive at her own birthday celebration looking like a hooligan.”

if you were a bit more awake you would have laughed.

some minutes later (no matter how much you wanted to enjoy your morning bath, it would be most unwise to keep dís waiting), you emerged from the bathroom and marveled at the gown that lay waiting for you on the bed.

dís noticed your entrance and smiled at the way your eyes lit up while taking in the fine work. it was dyed in the same durin blue you wore on the day of your wedding, with such intricate work along the hem that you couldn’t help but open your mouth in awe. “dori’s talent never dísappoints, does it?” you nodded your agreement in stunned silence.

there were the signature embroidered sharp edges that defined dwarven fashion, many segments adorned with crystal chips sewn directly into the dress. it wasn’t a crystal you were immediately familiar with, but you enjoyed the way the lighter blue contrasted the deep blue with a bright pop.

“as much as we’d both like to stare at the dress for the next several hours, it would look much better on you.” you bit back the scandalous comment that came to mind that involved your husband liking it better on the floor of your rooms. you’ve been spending far too much time with your brother-in-law.

for being so beautiful, you thought it would be an absolute pain to actually get on. much to your surprise, it slid on your body like a glove. dís fastened it closed and once you were snug inside the gown, she all but pushed you into the chair in front of your vanity to begin braiding your hair.

with the barest amounts of makeup and braids weaved into your hair tighter than gloin’s coin purse, she finally set you free for the moment. she dug in the pockets hidden in the folds of her own dress - something she always insisted on you requesting as well - until she pulled out a small box with the seven stars of durin on the lid.

she placed the box in your hands, her strong, callused ones firmly holding yours into place. “this is my gift for you, nâthuê kurdu. a piece that symbolizes the bond you share with fíli, made by my own hand to celebrate the daughter i never thought i would get.”

it was a beautifully made necklace that had you captivated at first sight. the chain itself was a delicate weave of copper and silver, but the pendant was what gave you pause. it was the sun and moon; the sun was made of tiger’s eye, the stone that dís christened her firstborn with at his own majority, and the moon was made of the same stone that adorned parts of your dress. they faced each other and around them, wrapped in more wire, were diamonds representing the seven stars.

“dís, you didn’t…”

“oh, my daughter, you’ll find that i did.”

“will you tell me about it?”

she gave you your own stone, an honor you knew she only gave to a very select few.

her eyes were glistening just enough to tell you that she was feeling the love as strongly as you were. “it’s a stone given to help find one’s voice, a conduit to aid in speaking from the heart. it influences calm in the owner and will serve you well for the rest of your days, not just as a future queen of erebor, but as a wife and friend.”

you would have been in tears at her speech if not for the playful glare she gave you warning of the consequences of ruining the makeup. “i don’t know what- thank you amad, i will treasure this piece until the end of my days.” that’s all you knew to say, all you could say without blubbering.

after helping you put it on, she wrapped you in a strong embrace that put you back together seamlessly. “if this is how you act with only a necklace, i don’t think you’ll have a chance of retaining composure once we’re back with everyone.”

she was definitely right about that. thorin’s gift of an intricate silver circlet embedded with both yours and your husband’s stones had your bottom lip dangerously quivering. he would have been bowled over at your tackle-hug had he not been already sitting down. he merely smiled and pet your head softly, bilbo passing you a handkerchief to wipe the water from your eyes.

thankfully, you were already familiar with the hobbit tradition of giving gifts on one’s birthday instead of receiving, and had presented him with a set of ceramic teacups and matching saucers you made. they weren’t the same high quality fine china he was passed down by his relatives back in the shire, but they could hold tea just fine. it was given with love and usefulness in mind and to bilbo, that’s what mattered.

with every gift you were given, you felt like you could fly with the ravens from the joy. kíli looked oddly suspicious through the entire ordeal, which would have been slightly worrying had it not been your birthday. he wasn’t daft enough to prank you on such an important day lest he risk the wrath of his mother.

it was even worse when he avoided giving you your gift each time the others badgered him to present it already. their gifts had already been presented and your heart filled with love from each.

“kíli, where is your gift?”

“well, uh, you see, what happened was-” dís leveled a glare at him that could have frozen mount doom. “i didn’t finish it in time. but! the moment i complete it, i shall present it with all the pageantry it deserves.”

“well if you don’t have yours to give, then who’s that massive brick from?” dwalin pointed to the massive box. he raised a very valid point that led many a bearded chin to be stroked in confusion. kíli was the last one who hadn’t given his gift, yet while he says his gift wasn’t finished, there was still an unopened present waiting around the fireplace.

you approached it warily, wondering what in the world it could hold to warrant the size of its container. kíli revealed nothing. “just open it and you’ll see, namadith.” the smirk he wore belied trouble of the worst kind.

maybe he wasn’t as intelligent as you gave him credit for.

“i swear, inudoy, if that box has anything that risks ruining the joy of this day, i will tan your hide and give what little meat there is on your bones to bombur to serve with tonight’s dinner!” dís’s warning did nothing but widen the grin on his face, which would have been rather frightening if you couldn’t hear muffled laughter from the box in front of you.

it was a laugh you fell in love with many moons ago, the one that followed your silly jokes and the sight of his brother getting flattened by dwalin on the training grounds. it was the laugh of your beloved husband, barely being concealed by the box itself and the bickering erupting from the others.

you opened the lid with a knowing smile and as soon as it was removed, fíli popped up with his arms outstretched. “happy birthday, ghivashel!” he attempted to step out of the box to properly embrace you, but it seems his time in the box had put a damper on his ability to properly walk. instead, he tumbled out of it and nearly brought you to the ground as he tried to brace himself.

your laughter mingled with his, neither of you paying attention to the sniggers from the onlookers. “fíli! when did you get back?! please tell me you haven’t been in that box for the past three days!” it appeared in the common room a few days prior and the curiosity about what it could be plagued you for hours upon first glimpse. but no one else seemed to have any clue about it, so you let your curiosity rest.

he chuckled as he stretched his legs out, braving the tingling feeling you knew he was experiencing from being cooped up for durin knows how long. “i only arrived very early this morning. i barely had time to bathe before my fool of a brother was shoving me into this thing and sneaking me food.” he shook his head and laughed, pressing a solid kiss to your temple. “and thank you for the tea earlier, uncle bilbo!”

the hobbit waved him off with a smile, nudging thorin lovingly to get him to pay attention to the fact the contents of the box wouldn’t, in fact, result in him being short a nephew.

“i hate to say it fee, but i think your brother has gotten me the best gift so far.”

“you’ll just have to wait until tonight, kurdu.”

“i look forward to it.”

#year of themed creation 2023 #year of idiots #fili x female reader #fili x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit reader insert #fíli imagine #fíli durin x reader #fíli durin #fíli and kíli #lotr imagine #the hobbit fanfiction #fili durin x reader #fili imagine

216 notes · View notes