Tumgik
#thread: what time hasn't touched
atypicalsenerio · 2 years
Text
What Time Hasn’t Touched [Sophia & Soren]
Starter for @nabataprophet
Rumor has it that life-giving fairies reside in a nearby forest. They say if you’re dexterous enough to catch one, she’ll stay with you and heal you even when you’re at death’s door. Investigate the forest and see if you can’t put these rumors to rest—or prove them true. [Grants Reason +1] 
Soren doubted the existence of fairies.
It didn’t stop him from stashing a jar in his bag, just in case.
Were fairies even sentient? He’d never much considered the ethics of calling on spirits for his own magic. In some cases, like with Pelleas, it seemed the spirit got the better deal. He had to wonder if a being would provide a miracle to a captor after being imprisoned for years, or would they go willingly? Perhaps the idea of having to capture one was merely a test to earn their companionship. Or maybe the whole thing was fake and the idea of earning a fairy only made the appeal stronger to those who sought to have some desperate power over their own mortality.
He tread lightly through the forest, sunlight waning fast. It made the most sense to seek luminous creatures by dim light, and his guard was high. Tome in one hand, he whirled around at the sound of footsteps near him, piercing eyes seeking movement in the underbrush.
“Halt.” He tried to make out the figure. They seemed rather short, perhaps a fellow student. “Are you seeking to confirm or disprove the rumors as well?” Even as his spoke his hand curled around his tome, wary of the stranger.
13 notes · View notes
osaemu · 3 months
Text
GOJO SATORU: IT'S YOU AND ME, THAT'S MY WHOLE WORLD
Tumblr media
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: one kiss turns into two, and before you know it, an innocent gaming session turns into something more. (streamer!au)
contents: fem!reader. suggestive (kissing/making out). the ending can be interpreted as sex. non-sexual usage/mentions of lollipops bc i have a sweet tooth and i want a lollipop rn. i didn't really spend a lot of time on this one, but i thought i'd post it anyways. whatever, your favorite streamer boyfriend is back! did you miss him? (the answer is yes). -1K words.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"you're not that good, are you?" you ask with a grin, twirling a lollipop in between your fingers. in front of you, satoru's avatar gets shot down by a couple others for what seems like the hundredth time, and right on cue, satoru curses his bad luck. "you know, maybe you'd be better if you were actually focusing on the game."
"it's not my fault," satoru insists petulantly, a childish pout appearing on his face. he sticks out his bottom lip and rests his chin on top of your head. "how am i supposed to be able to focus with you in my lap?"
you stick your lollipop in your mouth and shrug, a little smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you hum indifferently. "sounds like you're just making excuses..."
"oh?"
satoru pinches your cheek teasingly with the hand not resting on top of his mouse, fingers skating from the side of your face to your lips as he tugs out the lollipop. he ignores your halfhearted protests and pops it into his mouth, smiling cheekily as he does so. in the darkening computer screen in front of you, you can see your boyfriend's smug expression, which smirks back at you. "mmm, this flavor's good. what is it?"
"strawberry, i think," you reply instinctually. satoru shakes his head in response, taking the candy out of his mouth and twirling the stick in between his thumb and index finger before he corrects you.
"actually, i think it's you i'm tasting," he quips, clicking around with his mouse for a second before he opens up the photo app. your reflection gazes back at the two of you in satoru's comfortably large gaming chair.
"no wonder you have no game," you deadpan, looking away from the mirror image of you and satoru and towards the ceiling.
"baby, you're literally sitting in my lap right now."
"yes, and?"
satoru's laugh is clear and blue, like a sunlit sky in the middle of june. it almost feels like he hasn't been able to stop smiling around you ever since "the incident," and honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.
he sticks the lollipop in between your lips and stops you from verbally bashing him any more than you already have. the sweet, tangy taste is a welcome sensation in your mouth, and satoru can't help but smile endearingly when your reflection looks at him with round eyes. "you're so cute," he mumbles, punctuating each word with a kiss to the top of your head.
a soft giggle slips out of your lips in response. "shut up." even as you say that, you already know his answer. if there was one bet you'd make without a doubt, it'd be that satoru can never seem to shut up whenever you're in his line of sight.
satoru's hands find themselves on your waist, and they turn you around so you're facing him. there's a different (but not unpleasant) look in his eyes as he gazes at you, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.
"what is it?" you ask curiously, noticing the subtle change in his expression. his eyes soften from what looked like a teasing glance to an almost longing stare.
"nothing," he hums, kissing you in between your eyes. "you're just pretty."
satoru's hands thread themselves through your hair, lightly touching the back of your neck as his lips move down to brush against yours. you extract the lollipop from between your lips and tilt your chin up, kissing satoru with a little smile. like always, he tastes like sweetened peppermints, even though you've never seen him eat one before. you'll have to ask about that later, but for now, all you can focus on is the way satoru gently nips at your bottom lip as if he's asking for attention.
you hum softly, opening your eyes and squinting at satoru, who can't help but smile against your lips. "you taste like strawberries," he mumbles, peppering butterfly kisses on the corner of your mouth in between words. "so sweet..."
you exhale faintly, not wanting to pull away from his peppermint-scented lips, and let your eyes flutter closed again. something about the way satoru's hands rest delicately on your waist makes you feel more comfortable than you've been in a while. maybe it's just the hoodie satoru had forced on you earlier when he saw you were shivering, or maybe it's the steady beat of satoru's heart that's almost therapeutic against your chest; whatever the case, you can't remember the last time you've been this at ease.
between his complicated streaming schedule and your busy life, moments like these are rarer than you'd like, but that only makes them all the more special.
five, ten, maybe even fifteen minutes pass by in silence, with the only sound being the soft murmurs shared between you and satoru. his lips fit over yours like two pieces of a puzzle, and the way you fit in between his arms almost feels too good to be true. but thanks to the slender hand that slips underneath the waistband of your shorts and the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt, you know only too well that this is real; and hopefully, it always will be.
3K notes · View notes
too-much-tma-stuff · 4 months
Text
This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.
In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.
Masterpost
------
Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.
He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?
He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.
And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.
So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.
It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.
"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.
He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.
"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"
'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.
"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.
"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.
"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"
"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.
"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.
The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"
"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.
Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.
Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.
"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.
The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.
Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.
The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.
He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.
"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.
"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.
"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.
"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.
"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"
Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.
"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.
"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.
"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."
"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.
"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"
Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.
"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."
"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.
The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?
That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.
Part 2
3K notes · View notes
transvampireboyfriend · 10 months
Text
Eddie would come up with the most elaborate schemes to kiss Steve for the first time.
here's mine: He realizes Steve is a gossip early on, like the first time they all hang out someone mentions a rumour in passing and Steve latches on. Eddie is delighted. He's enamoured by the twinkle in Steve's eyes and the intensity in his probing, even the enthusiasm in giving out the information he has about the people in question.
So Eddie knows what he has to do.
Whenever Eddie sees or hears something that frankly should not be any of his business he makes sure to tell Steve. He doesn't mention it to anybody else and most of the time he doesn't care about it much, but he needs to tell Steve.
And he only does it when it's just the two of them. He finds Steve in a secluded corner of the Family Video, says "i think my boss is cheating on his wife" and is rewarded with a gasp.
He follows after Steve when he goes to refill the popcorn in the middle of movie night and casually asks "you know who I saw the other day coming out of Laura's house at 3am?" Steve raises his eyebrows higher than Eddie has ever seen.
He calls Steve at midnight on a Wednesday and opens with "my neighbors are definitely getting back together" Steve answers with a devastated "noooo!"
He leaves the kids in the cookie aisle to go catch up to Steve and lean on the shopping cart shoulder to shoulder and whisper "dont look now, but Heather and Monica are here together, right behind us. They ARE dating" Steve looks immediately.
And Eddie's not only excited about his initial reactions, but he thanks the heavens for his discovery because it gets him Steve's total, undivided attention every.fucking.time. without fail.
Steve turns fully to him, touches Eddie's arms for emphasis, shoves him when Eddie says something dumb, tugs on a strand of his hair a bit when Eddie says something silly, opens his eyes SO wide or squints at him and his eyelashes look sooo pretty. Steve leans in and whispers back and grins and teases and scrunches his nose in the most adorable gesture Eddie has ever seen in his life.
With practice, Eddie goes from having to give Steve's shoulder a back handed slap to get his attention, to just looking at him directly for like 5 seconds and then Steve knows Eddie has something to tell him.
so he does it at dinner, on a nondescript date at a nondescript hour because, mostly, Eddie just kinda can't take it anymore.
He's listening to Steve tell this story about a costumer and frankly, forgets to look away from him and Steve interprets this as Eddie having something to say. He cuts himself off, tilts his head and asks "what?" with mirth in his voice.
Eddie smiles, a little mischievous and says "c'mere I have to tell you something"
Steve smiles back, but says "we're the only ones here, Eds" gesturing to his kitchen.
Eddie rolls his eyes a bit and threatens "do you want me to tell you or not?"
Steve leans across the table, his cut off tank almost touching their spaghetti.
Eddie wants to shove his hands through the armpit holes, but he settles for holding Steve's jaw and threading his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
Steve's lips are as soft and warm as he expected, he tastes of the red sauce they cooked together and he smells good enough to eat. Eddie indulges in a thorough kiss but keeps it short.
No matter how many times Steve looks at him like he's the most interesting person in the room, he hasn't outright said that he likes Eddie like that, so he'd rather be careful.
Eddie pulls back and finds Steve smiling, his eyes closed still.
Steve blinks his eyes open and looks at Eddie, his tongue darts out to swipe across his lips and he says "I think that's the best one you've told me yet"
Eddie snorts and feels his cheeks burn "Yeah?" he asks.
"Mmhm" Steve confirms against his lips, already kissing Eddie again.
It takes a while, but eventually Eddie realizes Steve doesn't only give him his undivided attention when he has gossip. He does it pretty much all the time.
Maybe at some point it expanded to everything Eddie has to say.
Or maybe it was like that all along.
3K notes · View notes
astroboots · 1 year
Text
Stitches and Claws
Tumblr media
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: You find yourself in a compromising position on your knees when you help stitch up Miguel's wounds.
Content: Blowjob, riding cock, overstimulation, fangs and claws. Miguel kind of likes his horniness with a little bit of pain? Just a smidge.
Word Count: 3.3k
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
Tumblr media
"Miguel, can you please just relax?"
"I am relaxed," comes the sharp reply, as he glares down at you. Jaw so tense, you're surprised his molar teeth hasn't cracked under the pressure.
Your hand comes to his knee, as you spread them wider, and you can feel the plane of his thighs tense underneath your palm.
Yeah, the man is anything but relaxed.
Miguel is still in his suit. Skin covered in dark blue and red. The only part of him not covered in the fancy spandex (and if he heard you call it that he'd be livid, cause it's Unstable Molecule fabric, not spandex) is that scowling face of his and a small patch on the inside of his left thigh. An area the size of your hand that's bare, revealing his tanned skin underneath and a nasty looking injury.
You poise the needle in your hand against the gaping wound. You don't even get the chance to make skin contact with the tip before he's hissing at you like some damned feral cat.
"I haven't even touched you yet. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more if you keep fighting me."
You probably sound more than a little bit irritated, because this position isn't exactly comfortable. The hardwood floor is digging into your knees, and with hindsight you should've taken the cushion he'd offered you before.
God, up close, that wound look really bad. Four inches in length, red and angry. You're not a doctor. You don't know why the hell you agreed to do this. For all you know you're going to get the wound infected or worse.
"Miggy, I don't know about this, don't you think it's better go to a hospital. What if it gets infected? You'll end up with gangrene and then we'll have to amputate it and then what?"
"That's not going to happen. It's a tiny cut."
"Fine, but I'm not a medical professional and I'm probably gonna make it scar to shit."
"So it'll scar. It'll be your permanent mark on me."
"I'm worried I'm going to mess this up".
"No", he says, shaking his head. "I trust you."
Your cheeks warm at the words, barely able to look him in the eyes after he's said it.
Fuck, he'd have to go and pull that card didn't he?
With a big sigh and bigger reluctance, you dip your head down as you pierce the needle through the skin, threading it across. There's a muffled pained noise from above. The leather of your armchair squeaks as he grips it tight.
A sympathetic ache tugs in your chest at his pain and your hand still against his thigh. "Do I need to stop?"
"No, keep going," he bites out through gritted teeth.
From the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the pointed edges of his corner teeth protruding against his bottom lip. It's hard to keep your hands still when your fingertips tingle at the sight of them.
Jesus, you need to get your head out of the gutter. This is hardly the time. You persevere, dipping back down for a better view, so you can sew up the gaping wound as best as you can, ignoring the warmth of his firm thighs that are caging you in at your sides.
You try to pretend you don't hear the strained noises he's making. (Noises that are much too similar to the ones he makes when he's the one between your thighs). Practically bury your head into his thigh so you can no longer see the way his broad chest heaves or how he bites down hard on his lip when you make another stitch.
"Stop, stop!" he demands.
His hand grips down hard on your shoulder, pressing you backwards, but you ignore it, because the needle is already halfway through his skin, and for a man who is constantly battling supervillains on skyscrapers with jetpacks and regularly crashes into skyscrapers, he can be such a baby sometimes.
"Miguel, stop, I need to--"
"Enough!" He growls, his hand pushes more insistently, determined to pry you off him until your ass lands on the hardwood floor behind you.
"Let me do it myself."
Let him? Let him?! As if you had forced him to make you do this? This asshole. Swear to god! He's the one who came home in this state, plonked his dumptruck ass in your chair and asked you to help him. He's the one who sweet-talked you with his: "I trust you," when you had soundly suggested he go to the hospital.
He's always like this. Running hot then cold. Asking you to help, then pushing you away in the next second. It's a miracle you don't have permanent neck injuries with the metaphorical whiplashes he keeps giving you.
You drag your eyes upwards, the way he's hunched on himself in your chair, covering his thigh. His face is turned to the side away from you.
You don't know why he's being so unhelpful about this.
Stitching up your superhero boyfriend with a $10 Amazon sewing kit isn't your idea of a perfect Saturday night. But now that you've started you need to finish up with the stitches, you can't just leave it as it is.
"I'm sorry that I went too rough. If I hurt you, I can go slower, okay?"
He doesn't answer you, just drags one large hand over his face. It's only then that you notice that his ears and bits of his cheeks are flushed a darker shade of red than the tanned tone of his hand.
"That's not the problem I'm having," he mutters.
"Well then, can you tell me what the problem is?"
No answer.
Leaning forward, you place your hand back on his knee. That finally seems to get his attention and he removes his hand.
"You said you trusted me right? So let me know what's wrong so I can take care of you. Please?"
For all his obstinate stubbornness, Miguel is just as susceptible as you are to that card. He groans dramatically, collapsing back into the chair with a defeated expression on his face.
His legs shift in the chair, spreading outwards. The arm draped across his lap falls away, and the tight fit of his supersuit does absolutely nothing to disguise the shape of his cock, hard and heavy under the clinging fabric.
Oh. oh.
Clearly you’re not the only one being affected by the forced proximity of this situation.
"See the problem?" he says.
You look up and his eyes flicker away sheepishly. If you didn't know better, and if it wasn't for the scowl still plastered on his face, you might've mistaken him for being embarrassed. If you didn't know better, you might've made the mistake of calling him cute.
You ache between your thighs at the sight of him. But even though there's nothing more you'd like than leap into his lap and fill that ache with every inch of him, there's other priorities right now.
Crawling forward, you shoulder your way back between his thighs and settle there.
"Let me finish," you insist. "If you let me finish, then I'll help you with your problem."
It's an uneven bargain to say the last. Because the reward you're offering him, is something you want more than your next breath, and you have to bite back the 'ohthankyousweetjesus' on the tip of your tongue, when he gives you a small nod to seal the deal.
Maybe it's your newfound incentive, but this time as you pinch the needle between your fingers to stitch him up, it's a swift and efficient ordeal. You refuse to allow yourself to get distracted, eyes focused on your goal, even as you hear him groan above or shift underneath you. Not until the last stitch is done.
When you finally let yourself tilt your head back up. His eyes are pinned on your face, and you can see now that the familiar brown shade replaced by a red tinge.
Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you try to keep your eyes fixed on his, holding the contact as you lean forward. Anticipation rides heavy on your spine, as your mouth inches forward, until your lip press against the thin fabric of his crotch, and you nuzzle against the rigid shape of him.
The leather of your chair creaks, and there's a rip. From this angle your view is a bit obscured, but you catch sight of his hands, the firm unforgiving grip he has on your poor armchair. The extended sharp talons piercing through the soft leather in his excitement.
All you hear from above, is a breathy, "Fuck", then the thin fabric separating him from your mouth disintegrates, the dark blue fabric making way for his tanned skin underneath.
Then he's right there. Bare and naked for you to touch. His cock jutting upright between his thighs. He's ruddy and flushed, the fat tip of him glistening with precome that wells from the slit that you can practically already taste on the tip of your tongue.
Your mouth salivates as you part your lips to take him.
To call Miguel thick is an understatement. It's a struggle to fit him in your mouth, your jaw strain with the effort as you slide him further down. As deep as you can, until the blunt tip nudges against the back of your throat and you have to swallow around him in a panicked fit to suppress the reflexive gag pushing back in you.
It's always the hardest the first time. Your mind and throat instinctively fighting you, as you try to swallow down the intimidating girth of him.
"Take it slow nena," Miguel rasps from somewhere above. His voice is a slow and melted hum that drips sweet and honeyed in your veins, and that helps.
You take a deep inhale from your nose, taking in the familiar musky scent of him, and feel your throat relax around him, accommodating to his thickness.
Your thighs ache with arousal. Panties wet and slick as you clench down around nothing. Everything is tightly wound inside you. Your stomach heavy with the dizzying heat as the weight of him rests so fucking perfectly on your tongue.
It's all you can take. You shove your fumbling fingers between your thighs, tugging at the edge of your panties until the obscene wetness greets you and drag it up against your clit.
Relief and pleasure surges through your head, filling your veins with the sensation and you rock into the palm of your hand seeking for more of your own touch.
"Are you touching yourself?"
Your fingers still at the question. You're not exactly embarrassed, it's not like you're doing anything wrong, but you feel sheepish all the same at being caught.
You pull off his cock, letting it slide between your lips and when you finally look back up, he's staring down at you with a dark hunger in those otherworldly crimson eyes like he wants to eat you whole.
"Fuck, come up here," he directs, but you ignore him. Tongue lapping at the tip, savouring the heady taste of him as you run the flatness of your tongue down the length of him.
"Nena," he bites off impatiently. "Up!"
He doesn't wait for your reply this time. So fucking impatient this man.
He's already lunging forward, arms circling your torso as he pulls you up and into his lap with an impressive ease. His arm comes to your thighs, rearranging you to his liking in his lap, one large hand gripping his cock as he positions you above.
"Sit on my cock, nena. Ride me."
Your eyes flit to the poorly stitched up wound on his thigh that looks flimsy to say the least.
"Won't that hurt you?"
His head tilts, brow arching with that sardonic expression of his as if he doesn't see what the problem is. "And?"
This is such a bad idea. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you wanted to stop now. Instead you settle on a compromise to ensure that you can at least limit the potential damage on him.
"You have to stay still for me, or you'll tear the stitches," you warn.
He nods perfunctorily in agreement and you don't think he's even listening to you. No surprise there, Miguel has never been the best at listening to yours (or anyone's) instructions. He'll do what he wants as he sees fit.
But you can't find it in you to stop. Not when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and the velvety smoothness of it twitch in your grip. Not when you notch the tip of his cock to your slick entrance and can feel yourself dripping down his length.
The only thing you care about is to have him inside you.
You lower yourself onto him, sliding down, inch by maddening inch, as that thickness stretches you to your limits and white hot pleasure invades every one of your cells until you feel drunk on the sensation.
"That's it," he encourages, with a sharp inhale, hand gripping to the sides of your hips. The honed edge of his talons gripping into your flesh, but never breaking the skin.
Your thighs are shaking as you inch down on him until they are pressed flush to his hips, and his cock is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you that has your vision whiten. Thick and sweet.
As promised, he doesn't move. Even though you can tell from the muscle twitching in his jaw, that there's nothing more he wants than to flip you over and thrust into you hard and deep until you're screaming his name with a force that makes your lungs burn out.
You lift your hips, savoring the sweet drag of his cock against your cunt, slow and unhurried until only the blunt tip of him rests inside you and stay there.
"Nena," Miguel says, and the nickname on his tongue sounds like a warning.
He's not a fan of the slow pace you're giving him apparently.
But you've never been one to heed his warnings. Instead you slide down on him, just as slowly, letting his cock fill you at a leisurely pace and it is fucking heaven.
You still as he bottoms up inside you, before you do it all over again. And again. Then again. To each grumpy groan of his that's mixed with pleasure and impatience. Then you do it again.
It's only a matter of time before his short-spanned patience snap. You can practically see it in the furrowed line of his thick brows, as you raise yourself up on his knees. His sharp canines bites down on his bottom lip, breaking the skin and that is all the warning you get before his arms wraps tight around your ribs, knocking the very breath out of your lungs.
Miguel's arms pushes you down flush on his cock, it's strong and demanding. A stubborn grip until he makes sure you've taken all of him to the root. It's blinding you with the force of it, and all you can do as he buries his face, sharp teeth poised at your shoulders, is whine.
Good, it feels so fucking good. The sweet ache of his cock filling every inch of you. You can't think anymore.
You try to raise yourself again on his cock but you wobble, the muscles in your thighs screaming in protest and gives under, unable to lift yourself back up again.
Fuck, you don't know if you can move anymore.
In a split of a second, Miguel straightens up and pulls you into his chest. "So pretty, nena," he groans into your skin, while he ruts up and into you, fucking his cock deeper.
You should probably scold him. Try to stop him somehow, so that he doesn't rip the tenuous stitches on his wound. But you can't bring yourself to open your mouth. Not when it feels this good. Not when aching pleasure is pulling you down under and robbing you of your breath and every word in your vocabulary.
"You feel so fucking good. Stretched so tight around me. Just so fucking pretty when you take my cock."
The sharp edge of his fangs skirts gently across the soft flesh of your throat, and sets every nerve in you alight. Every part of you tingles. From the tip of your fingers to the curl of your toes. That telltale warmth and heat coiling in your stomach and spreads outwards ratcheting up to a fever pitch.
Your orgasm breaks. It rushes over you, hard and punishing. Your body shakes, thighs tensing and your heart is beating hard and fast into a gallop in your chest. You shake and tremble in his lap as it courses through your veins. Lungs squeezed painfully tight as the sweet bliss of it invades your ribs and you struggle to catch your breath.
You still feel it, rushing and pulsing from your stomach down your thighs, it doesn't even have a moment to properly subside.
Miguel doesn't stop. His hands are already on your waist, lifting you up and almost off his still hard cock and you gasp at the shift in pressure inside you. You're clenching down around the fat tip of him reflexively, and there's no time to adjust, no time to think, next thing you know, he lifts his hips while pushing you down on the length of his cock. All in one swift, and harsh, unforgiving motion.
It's so much, too much. You whimper at the next thrust, the whole of your body wracked in shivers as the sensation overfloods your brain. As good as if it feels, you don't know if you can't take much more.
"Keep going, don't stop. I know it's hard nena. I know you're sensitive." he coos, his hands are gentle on your hips, guiding your movements, but for all his sweet cajoling words, and for all that you're struggling he's not easing up.
"Keep going. Keep squeezing my cock like that and I'll fill you up. I'll fill you up with every drop of me."
He keeps encouraging you, as if you have any other choice but to take his demanding thrusts. As if there is anywhere for you to go with how firmly he's holding you to him.
Fuck you can't, you can't-- oh fuck, you're--
Your arms scramble to grab onto something, anything, fingers digging deep into the firm muscles underneath.
It's chaos.
He thrusts up again. Deep and demanding and your brain shortcircuits.
Sharp electricity surges through your spine and it is blinding. All you can do is hold on to him, to claw on and hold for dear life, or you're pretty sure you're gonna fall off the edge of the earth into oblivion if you lose your grip.
Distantly, you hear him hiss in your ear, feel his hips stutter up against yours, cock pulsing inside of you, but you're too far gone to piece it all together.
All you know is that you're coming again or maybe you never stopped and this is that first orgasm still wreaking havoc on your body. Maybe it'll never stop. The sensation feels like a punch to your gut, consuming and all at once. Your eyes must cross behind your head, because your vision goes dark and blank, wiped clean of thoughts. The room seems to tilt, and crash then disappear. There's no weight to your limbs, and your thighs are so numb, you're not even sure they are there anymore. Your body is not your own.
When you come to, you're still perched on his lap. You feel like wrung out and boneless, body spent and broken. His arms wrapped around your torso the only thing that's keeping you upright.
The arms of your leather chair have been scratched up to hell. Long claw marks brandishing each side.
He looks like an absolute mess. Brown curl a deranged mop on the top of his head, sheen of sweat over his tanned skin. But he looks good, messy. Looks fucking beautiful in a way that has your chest squeeze tight when you gaze at him.
Miraculously, the stitches on his thigh has held up somehow and you feel more than a little ounce of pride of your own sewing skills at the feat.
Your hands slide off of him from where they're still gripping on tight onto him and Miguel's eyes follow the motion to his biceps where your nails have broken through skin. The tiny crescent marks looks red and raw and painful.
"Shit, Miggy I'm sorry."
He blinks up at you, eyes a little bit dazed before he breaks out into a smile. He raises his arm and looks at the mark with a pleased and admiring expression one filled with pride.
"I hope it leaves a scar," he says.
Tumblr media
Dedication & Credits:
For @thirstworldproblemss who had to listen to me figure this one out, I'm still trying to find my voice for Miguel so sorry if this is a bit clunky for you.
Also dedicated to @guruan whose artwork literally inspires me to write/think/breathe smut 24-7 like a 7-eleven store. It's always open for slut business here. This artpiece with the spread thighs definitely inspired this oneshot.
I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
5K notes · View notes
spideyhexx · 6 months
Note
makeout with shy academy!coryo awww 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
a dream
Thinking of inviting him over to study, but really you had just wanted some alone time with Coriolanus Snow. You were friends, but haven't had the pleasure to really get to know one another without others around.
And this just becomes an occasional thing for the two of you as you grow closer and Coryo, albeit a little shy around you (you remembered always how he blushed at almost anything you’d say to him and the way he’d fiddle with his sleeves and send you small smiles), starts to open up a bit more, his natural charm threading into your heart more and more as the times pass by.
Then one day, you might've sat just a little too close to him, your thigh brushing against his, your fingers ghosting over his own as you grab his pencil. A series of little touches and the closeness of your face soon makes you realize that Coryo hasn't been paying attention to what you were saying about the passage you two had to read.
Instead, he's been looking at you, his gaze faltering to your lips and you can't help but do the same when your eyes meet his, too intense to look at in the moment.
He leans in, the tip of his nose tapping yours and he studies your face, trying to look for any hint of disgust or rejection, but there's nothing but a desired, yearning look deep within your eyes.
There's a brief silence when his lips finally touch yours. Both of you getting a feel and a slight taste of what the other has to offer.
Coryo places his hand over one of your cheeks and you melt into his gentle hold, pressing your lips with more force and he can't help the little quirk of his lips as he deepens the kiss.
He breaks away for only a moment to catch his breath before he's holding your face with a firmer grip, kissing you hard, his tongue gliding along your lip. His hand was cold against your face but his lips were soft, warm against your own.
Your heartbeat increases when he's moving his hand to the back of your head, massaging his thumb against the base of your scalp. You can't help but move closer, practically sitting on his thigh as his kisses feel more urgent, more desperate even.
You feel his teeth nip at your bottom lip and you gasp, the perfect opportunity for him to lick against your tongue, neither of you even caring about the spit that starts to get on your lips as your breaths become one.
let's chat about coryo, here :)
932 notes · View notes
thesirencult · 6 months
Text
PAC READING: CHRISTMAS WISHES FROM YOUR FS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PILE 1
Your FS is going through a "10 Of Swords" moment. They have been blinded from the truth. Her light is stronger than any illusion's. You are part of this truth. You and this person share a very special soul bond. Your lives' are parallel to eachother, a thin thread connecting the dots until the moment you meet.
"Keep your map close to your chest darling.
Not many people will understand the journey you are embarking on. I do. I want you to know that I wish that all wishes come true the next year. I'm kinda hopping one of them involves me ; )
I wish you get to heal. I wish the sun is warming up your skin and your eyes are shining with hope. I wish I was there to hold your hand. We could embrace eachother under the sun.
You are my sun.
My Sun. Take the chance and that leap of faith. It will bring you closer to happiness and to me. There are times the most illogical choice and the most risky one leads us to success. The paradox of risk.
I wish you keep the flame in your heart alight and your optimism helps you rise above every single. I wish you find love and guidance within your soul.
Goodbye, for now, my Sun and Merry Christmas <3"
PILE 2
Your person is not happy. They are far away from you but energetically they can feel that you are struggling. Your person is very spiritual and they want you to hold on for a tiny bit longer. They might be older than you. When you meet they will take on the role of a mentor. They see you, the real you and they want to help this diamond form under pressure.
Your FS is very calm, cool and collected. They know what they want. Your message is more heav,y but I know, deep in my heart, that you are telepathetically connected and they constantly send you messages, especially through songs and quotes you stumble upon.
"I wish you could see yourself from my POV. The amazing, beautiful, strong soul that you are. I wish you could look at life through a different prism. I want you to take the reigns and show everyone who you are. I wish you find the strength to own your beauty.
Your energy is mesmerizing. Like a cold night under the full moon and a wolf howling in the background. Hecate.
Choose sovereignty. Choose yourself baby. You're not unlucky. Your time just hasn't come yet.
I want you to push one last time baby. Do it for me. I'm sorry I'm not there to wish you "Happy Christmas".
I wish you manifest your dreams,I wish you dare to invest in your future, in our future without thinking you don't deserve it.
You have more options than you think. Don't make any bad choice you will regret later.
I love you baby. I want you to be healthy and strong."
PILE 3
Your FS is very "hungry" for you. They want you to let them take control. They are more possessive and obsessive than you would expect. They show their emotions through touch and on the bed.
They are daring and won't mind to show that you are theirs to everyone. Your FS knows taht you have big goals and they want you to know that in the future you will achieve all your dreams.
They are pretty succesfull themselves and they want you to get that bag and level up. They love material things and they invest in their future. You would meet in an environment supporting your level up (gym, career day, course, seminar etc.).
"My lovey dovey Sweetheart,
I wish you indulge this season. I wish you let your hair down for a while. When you are mine I will help you calm down. I will take the burdens off of your shoulders and tie your hands. Merry Christmas my lovely baby. I wish this time next year we are together, driving around in our luxury vehicles.
Let me dominate you. Let me take control. I will wrap satin sheets around you and carry you to the bathroom. A bathtub full of rose petals. Champagne for you my love. Sit on my face.
I wish you achieve all your goals. I wish you get your dream car, you bossy little lady. I will hold your hand through everything. I'll be by your side on long nights and I will proudly parade you around and show you off to everyone. I want them to know that the most accomplished person is mine.
You are mine. Mine. Mine.
Always yours, your FS."
689 notes · View notes
tommykinardkink · 2 months
Note
Tommy manhandling Buck all over his apartment (casually picking him up because he can, wrestling him to pin him to the bed, Buck curling into Tommy and reaching for him and just needing to feel held, Tommy pressing him against counters and walls to kiss him until he's all weak and pleading)
Okay. So.
Tumblr media
The first time it happens, Buck can't help letting out this surprised little squeak. Tommy's strong, he knows that. But Buck's a big guy, he's used to doing the manhandling.
So maybe Tommy stayed over the night before and now Buck is in the kitchen, peering into the fridge as he talks about what to have for breakfast. He's in a pair of sweatpants that sit low on his hips and his chest and feet are bare. And as tempting as that sight is, Tommy's eyes keep straying to Buck's ridiculous bed head and the way the sunshine streaming in from the windows catches in his curls.
Tommy can't help it. He needs to touch.
He goes round the kitchen counter and gently shuts the fridge. Buck's about to grumble—because, hello, hungry—but Tommy cuts him off with a kiss.
Alright, so maybe breakfast can wait.
And things are starting to get heated. Tommy uses his weight to press Buck back against the fridge and his hands have threaded themselves into Buck's hair. The contrast between the cold of the fridge and Tommy's big, warm body makes Buck shiver, and he wraps his arms around Tommy even more tightly, pressing right up close against him.
Tommy's hands begin to wander. They slip lower and lower until they're cupping Buck's ass, and he uses the grip to grind their hardening cocks together. It's a dizzying feeling and Tommy doesn't think before lifting Buck into his arms and carrying him the short distance to the kitchen counter.
"Shit," Buck squeaks, arms tightening around Tommy even further, and not letting go even after Tommy's set him down.
Oops.
"Was that okay?" Tommy asks breathlessly, pulling back as much as he can to check his expression. Buck's wrapped around him like an octopus, eyes wide and lips—pink and glistening and Tommy's thisclose to kissing him again—parted.
It takes Buck a few seconds to answer because... like. Wow. His brain needs a little time to reboot because this is a first that Buck hadn't ever anticipated. Because he's the one who sweeps the girl off her feet. He's the one who has to be mindful of his strength. He's the protector.
It's not the first time that Tommy's turned his world upside down. Buck hopes it won't be the last. He licks his lips as he meets Tommy's gaze.
"Do it again."
Tommy's smile is brighter than the early morning sunshine. It's impossible not to mirror the expression as Buck closes the distance between them again, tasting the joy on Tommy's lips as he kisses him.
It isn't long before Tommy's tugging Buck off the counter and shepherding him back towards the bedroom. He takes every opportunity to push Buck up against the walls and furniture, using his weight to keep him pinned while he luxuriates in the hungry little sounds Buck makes every time he does it. They make it up to the bedroom—each on their own two feet, those stairs are a goddamn death trap and they've both been to too many calls where some lothario has dropped his date on their head—and Buck is grinning, running his palms up and down Tommy's arms, squeezing.
And okay, fine, maybe Tommy's showing off a little bit, but so what? He hasn't missed the dazed, slightly awed, look Buck gets every time Tommy manoeuvres him just how he wants him. So as soon as the bed presses against the back of Buck's knees, Tommy pushes him down onto the mattress. He watches as Buck peers up at him from beneath his lashes, spreading his thighs to make room for Tommy between them.
This fucking kid is going to be the death of him. And what a way to go. So Tommy crawls up over Buck's sprawled out body and takes hold of his wrists, pinning them above his head.
Buck's buzzing, giggling as he gazes up at Tommy. He tests the strength of Tommy's grip and can't help but just marvel at how easily the other man holds him down. He knows that he can free himself if he wanted to, knows that it won't even be a fight because as soon as he says the word, Tommy will let go.
And for the first time, maybe since Abby, Buck feels... safe.
But he's distracted from the fluttering in his chest when Tommy begins to grind down against him, rutting against Buck through their sweatpants. He gasps, eyelashes fluttering, as pleasure flashes through him. It's instinct to pull against Tommy's grip, to try pulling him closer, but Tommy doesn't budge.
Fuck.
So he does the only thing he can. He wraps his legs around Tommy and arches his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. Tommy grunts above him, warm breath ghosting over Buck's already overheated skin as he picks up the pace, working them closer and closer to orgasm.
It's hot and sticky and kinda gross, and Tommy wouldn't trade it for anything. Tommy peppers kisses up the column of Buck's neck and along his jaw, loving how responsive he is, how he whines and bares his throat for him.
"Come for me, Evan. Come for me now."
He feels Buck shuddering against him, hears his panting breath, and he's so close that it's a kind of agony. But he wants to bear witness to this, to the beautiful way Buck comes undone.
Buck's eyes flutter open after a long moment, and he feels boneless and blissed out. He gazes up at Tommy, at the... fondness in his expression that never fails to make Buck's heart skip a beat. And then he realises—
"You didn't come?"
Tommy smiles ruefully, finally loosening his hold on Buck's wrists to brush an errant curl off Buck's forehead. "I was a little too busy watching you," he admits.
A blush creeps across Buck's face and he ducks his head. He isn't sure what to say to that, can't name the feelings blossoming inside his chest. He opens his mouth to protest because, seriously, he can't be the only one to get off. But Tommy hushes him and presses a kiss to his brow.
"Just let me hold you a little while, yeah?"
He can still feel Tommy's erection pressing into him and uncertainty nags at him. Is Tommy really okay with this? Tommy doesn't give Buck the chance to argue. He rolls over onto his side before pulling Buck along with him, arranging his limbs until he and Tommy are slotted together.
They fit perfectly.
It isn't long before sleep begins to tug at him. He snuggles deeper into Tommy's embrace, tucking his face into the crook of his shoulder and breathing him in.
He has this big, strong, gentle man in his arms, and maybe... maybe it's his turn to be taken care of.
390 notes · View notes
thatfreshi · 9 months
Text
Pitch Black (Astarion x Reader)
TW - panic attack, claustrophobia, themes of death/rotting
I based this off some sad lore I found out about him yesterday :(
Recommended Song: Rainy Day Loop - SALES
There's a lot of things Astarion hasn't told you. You don't mind, because a lot of those things are hard to relive. Everything he tells you comes with a price, but he does it mostly out of necessity. There are times you know something lies deeper, and yet you don't pry. It will come to light if he decides it needs to.
However, he never told you about one of the first truly cruel things Cazador did. How one day he refused him, told him no for once. He woke up buried six feet under, starving in undeath for an entire year until his master dug him up again. That was the last time he disobeyed.
This led to a fear he never told you about, claustrophobia, that terrifying feeling of being unable to escape small spaces. He doesn't like closets, this you knew, but you assumed it was because they're dark and sad, not because they're small rooms.
One morning you're sleeping, peaceful, arms wrapped around him tight. He wakes up before you, calm at first. When he realizes his discomfort at feeling trapped in your arms, he gently tries to move you off of him, but you grab back in your slumber, not knowing what's going on beyond the barrier of sleep. That first wave of panic sets in as you wrap yourself tighter than before, and he freezes up, remembering the smell of musty dirt and bones. He tries to scoot away, and you unknowingly pull him in again. That second time is enough for him to feel fully trapped, and without thinking he bites down hard on your arm.
"GODS!"
You bolt up out of your sleep, holding your arm, realizing it was Astarion who caused the sudden alarm. He sits at the edge of the bed, breathing heavily, still trying to ground himself. You try to ask him things, why the hell he'd do that to you, but he can't hear your questions. The worms, the beetles, at some point you become accustomed to the tiniest sounds. He wondered if they'd start to eat away at him, if vampires were like corpses, if he would slowly decompose in the ground. You go to touch his hand and he yanks it away, standing up.
"Astarion!"
And he finally turns to see you on the bed, your arm bleeding badly, how concerned you look. He can't speak though. Footsteps, people passing by, unable to scream because of how tightly packed the sediment is. You try anyways.
"Aster, listen to me. I need you to listen to me, okay?"
You're panicking. You haven't seen him this bad in a while. He's not there, at least not truly there. To be knocked out, only to wake up in pitch black, what a horror.
"I think you're having a panic attack my love, can you try to focus on one thing in the room?"
A painting, a landscape of a graveyard. He was put in a graveyard, some kind of cruel joke. His eyes wander to the frame, golden, like thread. He remembers stitching little phrases and stories into his clothes, he remembers the first time he did such a craft for you. The breathing starts to settle, still shaking, he sits back down next to you, and just starts sobbing. You go to hug him and he flinches.
"No!"
You are almost taken aback, but you remember that it's not your fault.
"Okay, that's okay. I'll just sit here with you."
He just cries for a while, and you let him. Clearly something startled him badly, badly enough that he bit you. You forgot until now that you were bleeding. Not only did his fangs pierce, but many of the rest of his teeth got through the skin. As you're analyzing your wound, you take part of the blanket and press it into your arm, trying to stop the bleeding. Astarion notices the movement, and you see guilt overcome his face immediately. You interrupt before he can speak.
"It's okay darling, I know you didn't mean it."
He wipes at his tears, finally coming back to reality, truly grounding himself.
"I... I'm sorry."
"I know, it's okay."
He stares at a crack in the floorboards.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He nods, mainly because he hates it when you're confused.
"So... a long time ago, Cazador decided it would be fun to bury me alive."
He almost laughs at how ridiculous it is, how someone could even think to do that. You just listen.
"And I stayed there for an entire year. And I don't know how it happened, but you tried to hug me tighter while you were asleep, and I- I just panicked, I felt so trapped and it just reminded me so much of-"
He can't even bring himself to say it again.
"I'm so sorry, I had no idea."
He scoffs.
"Yeah, you were asleep, and I freaked out like a monster and bit you."
He gazes down at the wound, wincing at what he's done.
"Hey, look at me. Wounds heal, I'll be okay. What matters is that you're okay."
"I... I think I'm okay now. Just, feel miserable."
"That's okay, you're allowed to feel however you want."
"I know. Thank you my sweet."
He picks your hand up off the bed, holding it to his face. It takes weeks after for him to be hugged again, especially being the little spoon, but you don't mind. You'll go through every phase of his, good and bad. This one just happens to be bad, and that's okay. He'll be okay. You'll both be okay.
738 notes · View notes
lostinforestbound · 3 months
Note
hi there! domestic rolan anon again, but this time i'm gonna name myself LMAO i read a few things about tieflings purring and i was wondering if i could request rolan who purrs for tav/reader when they have special, private moments together? once again, if you don't like the request, you can skip it!!
- 💛
Hello again Domestic Rolan anon! (Or maybe yellow heart anon??) I will never skip over Tieflings purring, it's too cute to pass up!
Tumblr media
Rolan and Purring
Rolan finds purring absolutely embarrassing. It's one part of Tiefling biology that he hates.
Not only is his particular purr pretty loud, purring is extremely vulnerable for him, so it takes him a long time to even feel comfortable enough to do it around his partner.
The only time he ever purred for someone is for Cal and/or Lia when they needed comfort; even then, they were a lot younger, so he hasn't done that in years.
What he won't ever tell anyone is that he purrs by himself as a form of self-soothing.
When you finally settle down with him and he's very secure in your relationship (which could take a long time), he doesn't even realize he started purring in your private moments.
When you first point it out, he immediately stops and is pretty embarrassed about it. Face fully flushed and everything! It's adorable.
When asked, he begrudgingly explains that yes, some Tieflings can purr, but don't expect him to do it all the time!
Fully relaxed in your shared bed while cuddling with you, he'll quietly purr up a storm, hoping for more of your touch. Sometimes he'll purr when you're kissing, pulling you closer to him.
Other times is simple tasks that's generally loving; brushing his hair, massaging his shoulders, hugging him close and tight, and even tender neck kisses on his adam's apple gets him to purr at least lightly.
Or imagine a date night, splitting a bottle of Arabellan Dry and you take one of his hands in yours. Not only can you hear a quiet purr, but the tip of his tail is flicking happily as he laces his fingers through yours.
Writing Blurb
After a very long day, you and Rolan decide that the best way to spend the evening is to relax. You both were originally planning for a night out in the lower city, but watching each others tired looks, you decided that it was better to stay in for the night. Maybe to split a whole bottle of Arabellan Dry while you two were at it.
Getting into nightwear, the both of you share some dinner and wine, complaining about the day. How many idiots must pass through the doors of Sorcerous Sundries ranting about a spell failure before they realize that it was their own fault? They're the ones who couldn't get through the simple verbal component. You have to remind him that not everyone is as talented at magic as he is, but they shouldn't haven been yelling at Lia either way (she was working behind the counter for the day).
Now, the two of you lay together in bed, and you gently massage his back as you speak. "Maybe we should've let Lia just attack the guy."
"I do not want blood on my floors!" He exasperates, head comfortably settled on your chest. "It would be terrible for business, the Sundries isn't the Blushing Mermaid."
You laugh, fingers trailing to the back of his neck to press against his nape. "Well, it would at least make the day more interesting."
He grumbles incoherently but says nothing else about it.
Your fingers eventually trail to the back of his head, threading them into his hair. When he relaxes even more to the touch, you decide to scratch and massage his scalp. It's always a favorite of his.
What you didn't expect is for him to start purring.
It's not loud, but you can certainly feel it through your chest as his eyes flutter closed, tail winding around your ankle loosely. You knew that a tiefling's tail can act similar to a cat, but purring? That's new and adorable.
Running your fingers through his hair, you gently untangle any knots that found their way into the strands. You don't say a word, wanting to enjoy this quiet moment with the stressed wizard.
It's hard to get him to relax at all through the day, so this is a small victory you will savor.
As he dozes off, you whisper sweet nothings into his ear, hoping for a calm night and wishing for him to have a calmer day tomorrow.
253 notes · View notes
rainba · 1 month
Text
ღ NSFW Alphabet - Kairos ღ
I finally got around to filling this it for him!! I hope I did this right. >_<
CW/tags: 18+, mentions of pee (non-sexually in the A category), slightly creepy behaviors from Kairos, mentions of Somnophilia, Kairos with a mild eating disorder (under the X category and nowhere else. B category might be mildly triggering under this topic too.)
MDNI.
GN reader!
Tumblr media
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Kairos is overwhelmingly sappy right after sex. Every time the two of you finish and he collapses beside you, he’d definitely paint you with kisses while thanking you profusely. He’d also absolutely refuse to let you go, too– his arms clinging to your waist as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. It wouldn’t even matter if you needed to go to the bathroom, he’ll follow you right in there. (ノ´ з `)ノ
Side note: If you have a pussy, Kairos will definitely beg you to let him sit on your lap as you pee. If you have a dick, Kairos will beg you to let him hold it as you pee. o(>< )o
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
For Kairos, his favorite body part of his partner’s would have to be their mouth/lips! After all, the lips are where he kisses you, it’s where your words come from, and– truthfully, Kairos kind of has a mild oral fixation.
He just thinks your lips are just so cute and enticing…! ( ˙꒳​˙ )
As for his favorite parts of himself– he honestly just likes his stomach area. He doesn’t really know why, but he has a strange fascination with running his fingers over his ribcage, poking at them and staring at it in a mirror. However, his favorite body part will change, depending on what you compliment him the most on.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
For many reasons, Kairos really likes to both taste cum and to cum inside your mouth. ^^;;;; He sees it as something extremely romantic! Like… You’re tasting him, consuming a part of him, part of him is (in some way) becoming a part of you! And when he tastes you, the same thing applies to him. It’s as if the two of you are merging, in a sense. ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝
Oh, also, he’s not above eating his own cum too. There will be times where he comes undone on your body then fervently licks it all up. ^^;;;;;;
After he's finished, he’ll probably tongue kiss you, pushing some of his cum into your mouth and making sure that you swallow both his spit and semen. Err… I hope you’re into that, in some way, because the idea of doing that sounds like a dream to him...! ( ´ ▿ ` )
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Kairos has so many dirty secrets, it’s impossible to name just one. 
His most obvious dirty secret would be that he’s snuck into your place multiple times– stealing lots of your clothing, both clean and dirty. Also, um… He may or may not have used your body to get himself off while you slept. ^^;;;;; 
He’s never been confident enough to actually fuck you as you slept or anything, though…! Kairos has only ever used your thighs and hands. 
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Poor Kairos has absolutely zero experience. Kissing? Nope. Romantic hand holding? Absolutely not. He hasn't even hugged anyone before! He's incredibly touch starved, before he meets you.
The only things he knows about sex (prior to being with you) is from porn and random threads he reads online. Sigh. ☆⌒(>。<)
So, when you first start having sex, expect him to be really messy and insecure the entire time! He’d be the type to get so excited about giving you his virginity that he cums before he can even get his boxers off. >_<
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Kairos’ favorite position would actually be something similar to missionary! He mostly just adores any position where he can see your face the entire time. Your expressions are one of his favorite things ever. (¯▿¯)
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Kairos would be the type that tries so hard to be serious that it becomes goofy. (*^^*)♡
Sometimes he tries to say something that comes off as ‘domineering and sexy’, but he stutters on his words and his voice cracks. It just comes off as cute and pathetic.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Kairos would try to shave, but honestly, he’s pretty bad at it. Plus, razors get really expensive…! So he just keeps his hair down there very short and trimmed. He honestly doesn’t grow much hair down there, anyway… Plus, his hairs are actually white. ^^;;;;;;; 
(I imagine his natural hair color is white, but he dyes half of it black.)
(ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᶦᵍᵍˡᶦⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶦᵈᵉᵃ ᵒᶠ ᴷᵃᶦʳᵒˢ ᵈʸᵉᶦⁿᵍ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵃᶦʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ, ᵗᵒᵒ.)
He'll shave completely for you, though, if you ask him to!!
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Kairos is very romantic! During the moment, he wants the both of you to always feel really good, and he’ll make sure to ask how you’re doing throughout sex.
However, there will be times where he loses control over himself, and he can go a bit… Overboard while chasing his climax. ^^;;;; But he apologizes afterwards!
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
In the past, Kairos has definitely tried to make some DIY sex toys, but… They never really worked out for him. So, most of the time, he just uses his hands. >_< He always prefers to have his face buried in your clothes while he touches himself, taking in your scent that lingers on it. He also tries to find lewd 'x Listener' audios online and looks for people who have voices that sound like yours.
If… If he’s feeling particularly horny, the go-to clothing item that he buries his face in is your used underwear… ☆o(><;)○
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Kairos’ most prominent kinks are definitely somnophilia, face-fucking (both giving and receiving), knife play, praise, worshipping, etc. >_<
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
It’s… A bit of a boring answer, but honestly, he just really likes the bed. It’s so soft and cozy, so warm and intimate! His bed is the perfect spot for it all to happen. If he has to give a second answer, he also likes having sex on his computer chair.
He’d absolutely love it if you rode his dick while he’s on his computer, or if you sneak underneath his desk and give him head while he tries to work or play games. ღ
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Honestly, just about anything turns him on when it comes to you.
Your skin is showing a bit? His face is now all red. You bend over or stretch in front of him? Now he’s thinking lewd thoughts. You whisper something dirty in his ear or mention something that even hints at the idea of sex? He’s sweating and rubbing his thighs together.
(´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
There’s honestly not much that he would say no to. Whatever you want is ultimately what Kairos wants…! So, even if he seems mildly uncomfortable about something at first, he’ll grow to like it if you love it.
I think one thing he would say no to is being cucked or starting an open relationship. Honestly, suggesting those things to him would make him start crying on the spot. (っ´ω`)ノ(╥ω╥)
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Kairos absolutely loves both giving and receiving. While he might not be very good at giving, he’d be so enthusiastic about it that it’s really endearing! Kairos would want to try all kinds of techniques and positions– both ways.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Kairos has a weird tendency to awkwardly shift back and forth between fast and slow, rough and sensual. In one second, he’ll be thrusting his hips like a wild animal, and in the next, he’ll be moving dreadfully slow.
There is usually a thought process behind this: he goes extremely fast when he’s not thinking straight, but when he feels himself about to cum, he’ll stop moving so quickly, just because he wants to keep fucking you for a little bit longer. ღ
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Kairos doesn’t mind quickies– he likes them! But he prefers to take his time and be intimate with you. He adores lots of foreplay, and he also loves aftercare. (o^ ^o)
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Kairos would definitely like to experiment and take risks. He finds the idea of experimenting to be really exciting, and he also believes that it’ll keep you attached to him, if the two of you are always trying new things.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Kairos’ stamina is… Not good. He gets tired really fast, since exercise is not his thing. But it never really stops him! He’ll keep fucking you until he physically collapses from exhaustion. ^^;;;;;;;;;
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
As much as Kairos would love to own a ton of toys, he can’t exactly afford any. ^^;;; As stated earlier, he has tried to make some DIY ones in the past, but they never really turned out too good.
However, if you buy some for him, he’ll be truly ecstatic to try them out! He’ll really push to use them on you, but also… Can… Can you use them on him? Please?
Strap a vibrator to his cock, or push one deep inside of his ass… Or do both.
Turn up the settings to the max as you overstimulate him for hours, leaving him a drooling mess while he helplessly squirms and mumbles out incoherent sentences. ( ´ ꒳ ` )
And… And can you do this to him while you cuddle and pet him? Please? And can you praise him too?
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Kairos likes to tease a little bit, but his teasing isn’t very… Effective. He’s someone who’s much more used to being teased instead. >_<
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Kairos is, unintentionally, very loud. He moans, he whines, he whimpers, and he cries. He just can’t help it–! Being vocal for you is part of how he expresses his love!
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Kairos has very sensitive nipples. ( ` ω ´ )
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) (cw: ED)
Kairos is… A little malnourished and pale, very slender. He hardly ever sees the sun, and he barely gets anything good to eat, if he can afford meals at all. Just lots of cheap sweets and cup ramen...
(Plus, there are times where he refuses to eat for days on end- simply because he believes he doesn't deserve to eat. Although, that doesn't happen very often.)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Always yearning… Always pining… You’re on his mind first thing in the morning, and you’re the last thing he thinks about right before he sleeps. If the two of you aren’t together, he masturbates to the thought of you at least once a day, and when you are together, he’ll want to have sex with you at least once a day as well. („• ᴗ •„)
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Kairos definitely falls asleep near-instantly. His stamina is pretty bad, so after having sex, he’ll be completely spent. And, honestly, the sleep he gets afterwards is the best sleep he ever gets. ღ
176 notes · View notes
hotchfiles · 4 months
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the most dangerous thing is to love ❞ ─ a darling, in any life blurb
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: aaron hotchner x reader. summary: the red thread between two people destined to be together may stretch and tangle, but those ties will never break. or: you almost lose him over the most silly of insecurities. content warnings: i'm thinking none. you can tell me otherwise though. word count: 500+
Tumblr media
Aaron hasn't been the same the past week, you knew there was a problem and he wasn’t speaking on it, that couldn't be good, he was never the type to shy away from saying what bothered him, especially to you. You knew each other too long, from too way back to keep secrets. 
He's at your couch, sweats, t-shirt, socks. It's Friday night but there are still files on your coffee table he’s looking over. Everything about it is completely ordinary, domestic. But he's too silent, too absorbed in his own mind. Not once did he glance over to you like he usually does, a reassuring smile telling you he enjoyed the quietness. 
You leave the papers you're grading at the desk, going to him ready to get answers, even if you didn't enjoy what they could be, you can see the surprise on his face as you kneed in front of him, taking his hands on yours as you searched for his eyes. “Hey, what's wrong?”
He has that look on his face like he's about to lose something and he's trying to hold on to it as much as he can and that doesn't help your nerves in the slightest. Aaron pulls you up with ease, getting you to sit on the coffee table filled with papers so you can talk face to face. 
"You've managed to avoid meeting Jack more than once now and that worries me." Oh. You open your mouth countless times trying to come up with some sort of excuse that didn't actually exist, eyes blinking so fast you couldn't hide how nervous and surprised you were. "I—I love you and I want you, us. I want a family for him, for Jack. He's front and center always and—" 
Interrupting him with your index finger was your way to show him he didn't need to make his case on this. That was the first time he told you he loved you and it felt like a goodbye and it was your fault for being… Silly.
"I'm too scared he’ll hate me." Your voice is nothing but a whisper, children were never part of your life, you were an only child and then a driven working woman, the friends you had who became moms would soon have conflicting schedules and fall out of touch. If Jack hated your guts you and Aaron could never work it out. 
The relief he feels is so loud he actually has to sigh before chuckling and pulling you in to his lap, hugging you so tight you can barely breath. "He's not going to. I promise you, he's the sweetest kid, really.”
You nod furiously, ready to make things right, "we could go back to your place tomorrow? Go to the movies, maybe?"
"Anything you want, honey."
"I love you too, by the way." It isn't ideal, and it wasn't the most romantic way to declare it. But in a way you always loved each other and you both always knew it.
"Oh good, I was sweating for a minute here."
189 notes · View notes
Text
this is to answer the anon who sent in an ask about the latest ep — tumblr is being weird and my reply wasn't showing up on the tags. so here it is:
beauty can often be bleak — entirely without mercy in the way it swallows us whole, holds us hostage with its exquisite ache — loveliness can cut; and that's exactly what this episode did. i cried watching sunjae die for the umpteenth time — how he waited to see the police arrive before he let go of the murderer's hand, ensuring sol's safety with his last act on this earth. "thank you for being born," he'd told her earlier. "i'll fight till my very last breath to make sure you keep living," his eyes said as he fell off that cliff. and he did — sunjae SMILED at her during the final seconds of his life: because the sight of sol still brought him sweetness. even then. even still. even after everything.  the parallel of him descending into water, just like his death in the very first timeline — was a clever, if deeply painful touch. sol's decision to go back in time and erase their first meeting was gut-wrenching to witness. as a viewer — it was devastating beyond belief to see the dissolution of a love story that went against time and fate to exist. as a fellow writer, it was a stroke of narrative brilliance — in every timeline so far, sunjae has spent fifteen years loving sol alone. to turn that around, and have sol love him in secret for fifteen years, while sunjae hasn't even met her — it's a perfect circle of symmetry. it's one thing to lose your memories — an entirely different heartbreak to never have had the chance to make them in the first place. sol made a cruel decision — but it was the only one she could have made to keep sunjae alive. he would have gone to her, and died for her in every universe — that was the inevitability of his love. so she had to make him not love her anymore. and the only way to do that was to make sure they never met. this is the tragic beauty of her sacrifice — sol gives up their shared past, in order to protect sunjae's future. to make sure it's still possible. this girl literally gave up the love of her life, the boy she crossed space and time for — just so he could live. 'sonaki' might not exist in this timeline — but sol's movie about sunjae and their relationship does. whichever universe they find themselves in, these two will always turn each other into art. because that's what true love does — it becomes eternal. it takes on a life of its own.  sunjae will love sol in this new future, too. how could he not — they're tied by the red string of fate. some threads just can't be broken — no matter what you do.
112 notes · View notes
the-ace-with-spades · 1 month
Text
I'll never write it so gonna post the abandoned idea for it here (also as a reminder, all my fic ideas are for grabs unless stated otherwise so if someone wants to pick it up, be my guest)
Red strings of fate/Soulmates AU
You are connected to your soulmate by a red thread only you and your soulmate can see and touch (and cut). When your soulmate dies, the thread solidifies and becomes heavier, as long as the distance between the soulmates was the time one of them died — almost like a chain.
Jake and Bradley find out they're soulmates early on in flight school — it's hard not to when the thread pulls tauter and tauter until they finally meet in the same classroom and they can see the other end of the thread for the first time.
There's fascination, there's the thrill of sneaking around (they should disclaim it, as soon as they learn, so it can be put in their records, but they never do) and everything is new and bright. They start to treasure the string, turning around their fingers and finding joy in noticing the other end twitching and pulling — with time, they notice the motions translate over the tread no matter how far away they are.
They make up a system of pulls and tags, using Morse code and it becomes something else, they become something else — in the air, wordlessly in sync, on the ground, talking to each other whenever they want, during sleepless nights and separate schedules and long-distance deployments.
Until.
Things start getting complicated. Bradley has commitment and abandonment issues, Jake's an all-or-nothing type of guy and just being soulmates isn't enough.
They go their separate ways. Bradley still, sometimes, when he can't sleep and the night makes him feel like nothing has a sense or a purpose, sends little messages down the thread. He never gets replies.
The day they meet again at the Hard Deck, Jake suspects Bradley is coming for the same assignment. The string’s been getting lighter and lighter the whole night, dropping down, no longer stretched to its limit.
They try to ignore the string the whole time the training goes on, but Mav still suspects. He doesn't say anything, but he feels like history is repeating itself.
When Mav and Bradley are arguing in the debriefing room and Warlock comes in, he doesn't say anything but Mav looks down at his own wrist and his face turns white and Bradley knows at that moment.
(Whether Mav and Ice are soulmates and married or they are soulmates but Ice still married Sarah, that's up for discussion).
During the whole funeral, Mav rolls the invisible thread around his wrist, moving onto his arm when it's not enough.
It's at that moment — Bradley decides Jake will never have to do the same.
The minute he turns around for Mav, he makes up a plan in his head.
They find each other in the snow, and argue, but by the end of it, Mav is making up a crazy plan and they'll try to return in one piece. Try being the keyword.
He pulls on the string, the thread between his thumb and index finger.
Mav frowns. "What are you doing?"
"Sending a message before we go."
He repeats it, just in case Jake hasn't realized in time to catch the whole thing at first. And then he starts looking through the pockets of his life vest.
“He’s not walking around with a dead man’s chain, Mav.”
Mav tries to stop him the second he realizes what Bradley is going to do but it's too late — with the same knife he cut his parachute off, he cuts off the thread, close to his wrist, letting it fall limping into the snow, red almost looking like droplets of blood.
It takes Jake a minute to realize that the tagging is a physical feeling, not just wishful thinking formed by his imagination.
The carrier deck is a mess, the foxtrot teams returned, Phoenix is now arguing with the admirals about Rooster's position — he might not be dead, sir — and the ringing in Jake's ears doesn't stop until he looks down at his wrist, and sees the string moving, the pulling a rhythmic, well-known motion.
Aloud, breaking up the vivid discussion about Maverick and Rooster's status, he says, “Rooster is alive, he’s—he’s talking,” and it almost feels like it's someone else using his voice.
“What do you mean, Hangman? His comm is silent.”
“Can feel it on the string, it’s still red and he’s— he’s tugging in Morse code,” he says. He closes his eyes and lets himself be pulled by the wrist. “S-O-R-R—Sorry, he’s—sorry and—and—I-L—Shit, no.”
I-L-Y
The string flops down, loose. “No—”
He cut it. He cut it because it's still red and not gray but still too limp and he knows it. His wrist feels too light, too free.
When Bradley lands on the carrier, his wrist is bare and the thread pools around Jake's feet. It doesn't magically reconnect when they touch, when they shake hands.
Jake tries to desperately find the other end, carrying rolls and piles of it with him as he follows Bradley to the med bay.
“Jake, just—just cut it,” he tells him. “It’s going to connect you again in a day or two.”
Jake ignores him, pulling miles and miles of the thread into circled piles next to Bradley's bed. He can't see the floor — it's just red and red and nothing else.
“No,” is all Jake says. “Not to you.”
It'll find him a new match, connect the thread to someone else, to someone who isn't Bradley.
"Bring me some scissors," Bradley says. He almost feels bad, when Jake's gaze turns up to him, glaring with shiny eyes. "Just do as I say for once."
Wordlessly, looking like it pains him, Jake brings him disposable scissors.
Bradley grabs his hand before he can move away, pulls about three feet of the thread from the pile, and cuts off the excess on the floor.
He wraps it around his own wrist, the string thin and soft, and a little clumsily ties it into a loop over his arm. When he leans away again, the thread takes a second, taut, and then stretches with the distance, like it has always done.
Jake stares at it, too focused and too absent. "That's the shittiest knot I've ever seen."
Bradley huffs. "Well, you gotta learn to live with it."
121 notes · View notes
the-kr8tor · 4 months
Note
Hobie helps reader get out of a toxic friendship because the toxic person is obviously super bad for them and Hobie gives advice like "You gotta just drop them" but reader is stubborn OR toxic friend already unfriended but won't stop sending reader messages or notes so hobie responds for reader instead. 😭
Personally I'm going thru this rn (honestly she just doesn't understand the words no) and I think Hobie would be so willing to send a message and reader would be like "ok but don't be mean about it" and he just has to delete his entire paragraph of text 🙏🙏
-🍄 ( Te Amo )
I'm sorry you're going through this, lovely 😔 I hope they left you alone. Know that you are loved ❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, hurt/comfort.
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
The simple buzz of your phone fills you with dread. Shoulders straighten, fingers locking up in their joints, you exhale, closing your eyes tightly like you're in pain.
Hobie, the absolute angel that he is, notices this. He leaves his comfortable position on your lap, head perking up to meet your scrunched up face.
“That them?” His voice is still deep from waking up from his nap. Eyes narrowed towards the knot of your eyebrows.
You huff, smoothing his cheek that your jeans have left a mark on it. “Maybe, did it wake you up?”
“Yes,” he sounds pissed (not at you) and fatigued at the same time. “You gotta drop him, love.” His voice is suddenly soft, knuckles brushing the tension away from your arms.
“I know, I already unfriended him on everything and he won't just…I don't even want to interact anymore.” The tiredness in your voice boils his blood, he's had enough of your so-called ‘friend’ and his toxic ways.
“Give me the phone,” he sits up, flexing his fingers towards your phone laying face down on the table. “I'll do it for you.”
“I can fight my own battles, Hobie.” You don't sound mad, just incredibly dejected. Losing a friend is hard enough, but cutting them off is what's best for you, and Hobie knows that too.
“I know you can.” He kneads the space in between your shoulders to let you relax for once. You lean on his touch, letting your muscles sag. “But you've already done everything and he still hasn't gotten the message. And if being nice about it doesn't work anymore, let me be mean for you, yeah? I know he was your friend once.” I know you cared for him. He wanted to add but he doesn't want to make you feel worse.
The phone buzzes again.
You nod, sniffing, you hand him your phone, opening the message thread for him. “Just don't be too mean to him?”
“After what he's done—?” Hobie's already typing up a storm.
“Hobie, please.” You lay your head on his shoulder, the simple act has you melting all over him.
Your tender words have him deleting an entire paragraph. “Alright. Just a bit mean then.” Typing a response for you, Hoping this was enough for him to leave you be.
Hobie lets you read his message first before sending it. The tone was harsh but needed, the words were well chosen to try and be nice about it but still being firm.
“Okay,” you hand him the phone without hitting send. You're too nervous to press it.
“Can I add a wanker in the end?” Hobie asks, finger hovering over the letter ‘w’.
You laugh, he hasn't heard it in a long while. Patting himself on the back, he types up the word.
“Love.” He says before sending the message. “Don't feel too bad, yeah? You're a bloody saint for putting up with his shit.” He leaves a quick kiss on your temple for reassurance. “Do you want to do it?”
Giving you the phone, you suck in a sharp breath before hitting send.
“And just to make sure he never contacts you again.” Hobie blocks the number, you can't help but smile. Feeling the heaviness on your shoulders fade as he closes the phone for you.
“Thank you.” You lace your fingers around his, thumb rubbing lovingly on the back of his hand.
“Thank you for trusting me.” He cradles the back of your head, kissing just above your hairline. “Now, it's your turn to take a nap.”
Hobie would do it all over again if you asked. He hopes the message gets to him or your ex friend is about to have a little visit from spiderman in the near future. Just to intimidate of course.
Giggling, you let Hobie guide your head down to rest on his lap. He even placed a pillow in between to make you feel more comfortable.
“Sleep well, lovie” He wishes that your dreams are kinder to you this time.
Tumblr media
167 notes · View notes
lendeah · 4 months
Text
Grooming Dilemma
Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav Summary: Gale wants to shave his beard, and Tav decides to help him with the task. or Horny shaving with your favorite wizard. Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute. Word count: 4.2k Warnings: Facial Shaving, Horny shaving, Porn With Plot, but just a bit, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Frottage, PInV Sex, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected sex, fluff and smut. AO3 link
a/n: Just pure filth. I have no excuse. Not proofread, so may contain mistakes (sorry)
Tumblr media
After your arduous journey to Baldur's Gate, you and Gale finally find a moment of respite in the Elfsong Tavern bathroom. Weary from weeks of travel, you are perched on the edge of the bathtub, with your legs inside, as Gale relaxes in the warm water. You take a moment to appreciate his appearance: his hair is damp and unkempt, falling in dark waves around his face, and the exhaustion from weeks of travel has softened his strong features, making him look more vulnerable than usual. Without thinking, you reach out and gently thread your fingers through his wet locks, placing them behind his ear. Gale's eyes flutter closed at the touch, a small contented sigh escaping his lips.
The two of you sit in comfortable silence as you continue to play with his hair, occasionally twirling strands around your finger.
"I want to shave" he suddenly says, breaking the peace.
Your face falls at his words, and you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. "You can't be serious," you protest. "Your beard is your best attribute!"
Gale chuckles softly, clearly amused by your reaction. "But how could you possibly know what I look like without it? " he teases.
You pout and cross your arms over your chest. "I just know it!" you insist. "It's so soft and nice. And it makes you look more manly."
You take the chance to lower your hand to his cheek, feeling the soft hair there. Gale's beard has indeed grown significantly since your time at the Last Light Inn. You suppose he hasn't had much time for grooming during your journey to Baldur's Gate.
"Well I was under the impression that I already was manly, with or without the beard," Gale says. "You would prefer a rugged, manly husband, yes? A strong, burly protector, who would not hesitate for a moment to defend his bride from any peril that came her way."
You roll your eyes "Yes, my love, because you are so burly and very rugged indeed."
Gale laughs, shaking his head at your sarcasm.
"Well, I'll have you know that I am quite proficient in combat," he retorts. "I may not be the tallest or bulkiest, but I can certainly hold my own."
"Oh, I have no doubt about that. I fight alongside you every other day. But what does that have to do with shaving?"
Gale looks at you lovingly. "A new look couldn't hurt, right? It's important to switch things up now and then, keep people on their toes. In addition, what if I end up looking like Elminster?"
You laugh at the thought of Gale sporting a long, white beard like his mentor.
"I don't think you have to worry about that just yet," you say with a grin. "Maybe in a few years..."
He mock-pouts and runs a hand through his hair, causing droplets of water to fall onto his chest. You watch as the droplets trail down his toned chest, feeling a familiar warmth in your stomach at the sight.
"I'll keep some stubble," he concedes, running his hand along his jawline.
You smile, relieved that he won't be completely clean shaven. You've grown accustomed to his signature scruff and it would feel strange to see him without it.
"Fine, but you have to promise me one thing."
As you continue to play with his hair, Gale leans in and presses a kiss to your knee. "Anything to make you happy," he whispers.
"Promise you will let me be the one to shave you," You whisper, leaning closer.
Gale's eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his features.
“I strictly forbid anyone from touching my razor, especially you,” he says, his face still relaxed from his recent bath. Yet, his eyes narrow in a suspicious manner as he looks up at you. “I cannot take the chance that you might accidentally cut my delicate neck and leave an unsightly scar.”
You pout "But I am good with blades, I'm sure it can't be that different!"
Gale's expression softens and he gives you a small smile."Oh, yes, it’s that different. It transcends mere physical actions of grasping a blade and pointing towards the hair. It’s—" He pauses, trying to think of a metaphor that you would understand. "It is akin to the intricate task of chiseling a fragile masterpiece. One would not bestow such a delicate endeavor upon an amateur, would they?"
You sulk and try to think of a counter-argument. Suddenly, an idea sparks in your mind and you can't help but smirk mischievously. Without hesitation, you climb into the bathtub, fully clothed, and wrap your arms around his neck. The warm water splashes against your skin and clothes, creating a pleasant sensation. "Please, my love," you plead with a playful glint in your eye. "You can teach me, I promise I will be the best razor-shaving student."
Gale raises an eyebrow at your persistence. "Why would you want to bother with something as tedious as—" A pause. "Ugh, Fine."
A victorious grin stretches across your face as you plant a swift kiss on his lips before stepping out of the tub, leaving puddles of water in your wake. He follows suit, grabbing a towel to dry off while you eagerly gather everything you need. He takes a seat on a sturdy wooden chair and pats his lap, inviting you to join him. With a rosy blush on your cheeks and a wide smile, you perch yourself on Gale's legs, which are covered only by the towel.
The position makes you warm up, even more so with the wet clothes still clinging to your body. But as your eyes meet his, you can't hold back a burst of laughter at the sight of the fluffy shaving foam covering his face, transforming him into a comical cloud.
"It's not that funny," he grumbles, wiping some foam off his face with a towel.
You shake your head, unable to contain your laughter. "I'm sorry, love." You attempt to stifle your giggles before asking, "So, Mr. Dekarios, where do we begin?"
Gale's eyes meet yours, shining with mischief as he struggles to conceal his amusement. "Step one, naturally...you grasp the razor..."
You smirk, "I was hoping to use my longsword instead."
"Mocking your shaving instructor already? Not a good start for you." Gale maintains a stern expression, but the corners of his mouth betray a small smile.
"Alright, fine." You say prying the razor and gently grabbing his jaw. "Okay, instructor, what next?"
"Well, you hold the razor this way..." Slowly, he wraps his fingers around yours and places your thumb in the thumb hole so your grip is firm.
Your heart flutters as his fingers brush against yours, and you try to focus on the task at hand. "And now what?" you ask eagerly.
"Now, you want to make sure you’re holding it at a slight angle against the skin," Gale instructs. "Not too steep or else you’ll cut yourself or me. And then it’s just a matter of gentle strokes." He takes your hand and demonstrates on his cheek, showing you how to move the blade in small, precise movements. Slowly, he releases your hand and places both of his over your hips, steadying you as you practice the delicate motions with the blade. The warmth from his palms seeps into your body, sending shivers down your spine.
You try to mimic his actions on your own, but your hand feels a bit shaky and uncertain without his. "Am I doing it right?" you ask nervously.
"Not bad for a first-timer," he comments with an approving smile.
Soon enough, you start getting comfortable with the movements. You even start humming a tune under your breath as you shave away. The razor glides smoothly over his skin, leaving behind a trail of freshly groomed skin. It’s surprisingly satisfying to watch the transformation taking place before your eyes.
As you reach his jawline, your free hand starts to wander, moving from his shoulder and threading through his hair with the excuse of holding his head still. Gale's eyes flutter closed and he releases a deep, satisfied sigh. The tension in his muscles dissipates with each gentle touch, and you can't help but smile as he melts into your hand like a lovestruck puppy.
"Enjoying yourself?" you tease playfully, while carefully shaving his jaw, making sure to leave a bit of stubble.
Gale looks up at you, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I must admit, I am quite enjoying myself," he says, his voice laced with amusement. "But I'm more curious as to what you're doing with your free hand."
You chuckle, "I am taking my liberties as your best student, of course."
Gale raises an eyebrow, "Is that so? And what liberties would those be?"
You look at him, and even with the foam covering his face, he is the most handsome man you have ever seen. You lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "The liberty to touch you wherever I please."
Gale's breath hitches in his throat, his eyes locking with yours as your words sink in. Desire flickers in his gaze and he rasps out, "I don't think that's part of our lesson plan."
You smirk, "Well, maybe you should change the curriculum, Professor," you suggest playfully.
Gale turns his head towards you and captures your lips in a searing kiss, his calloused hands gently cupping your ass through the wet clothes. Your own hands roam freely over his half-shaved face, tracing every rugged edge and soft curve, committing them to memory. The rough texture of his newly shaved stubble prickles against your fingertips, adding an extra layer of sensation. As the razor slips from your hand and clatters to the ground, the sound startles you both, bringing you back to reality.
You pull away from Gale, both of you breathing heavily and trying to regain some semblance of composure. "I should finish my job before I get more distracted," you say with a shaky laugh, picking up the fallen instrument.
Gale beams at you with a mischievous grin.
"It appears it is your turn for a shave, my dear." You glance at his face, covered in a mess of shaving cream, and realize yours is probably just as chaotic. You blush as he playfully grabs your cheeks and cleans off the foam with a damp cloth. "There, all better," he says with a final caress to your cheek. You meet his gaze, feeling a flutter in your stomach at the tenderness in his eyes.
Trying not to break the moment, you begin to carefully shave his cheeks again.
"I have to confess, I've found shaving to be surprisingly enjoyable," Gale says with a chuckle.
You smile at him and run your fingers over his clean-shaven cheek. "Well, you do make it quite pleasurable."
You finish up carefully shaving the few remaining patches of hair on his face before leaning back to admire your work. He looks so... different. His sharp features seem more defined without the shadow of a beard, giving him a sharper look, but he still has the lingering stubble giving him that rugged charm you've grown so fond of. As you rake your fingers over his smooth jawline, Gale captures your gaze with darkened eyes full of admiration and desire.
“You don’t think I look silly without my beard, do you?” he asks, self-consciously running his hand along his stubble once again.
A small, loving smile graces your lips as your thumb lightly glides over the newfound ridges and dips on his face. He has a new youthful freshness and a clean, radiant glow about him. But still, he is just as handsome as ever, if not more so. Your heart swells with love for this man. Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss against his cheek, savoring the moment and letting out a contented sigh.
"Not at all," you assure him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I must say, you look rather... enticing." Gale's eyes widen in surprise. Before he can say anything else, you add. "Should we shave the rest?"
Your gaze travels down the expanse of his chest, the dark hair that travels down his stomach and lower...
Gale blushes fiercely, his cheeks turning a deep red as he stares at you. But he doesn’t move away, and he doesn’t protest. "Y-yes," he whispers. "You can...uh...I will...yes," he splutters, struggling to think of what else to say. He looks more nervous than you’ve seen him in a long time.
You chuckle at Gale's flustered state and lean in closer, feeling a surge of confidence. "Don't worry," you whisper, gently tracing your fingers along his jawline. "I'll be gentle."
Gale's gaze follows your every move as you pick up the razor, anticipation and excitement brewing in his dark eyes. As the sharp blade glides across his chest, his muscles tense under your delicate touch. The smooth skin revealed by each stroke of the razor is glowing, almost golden, and you can't resist tracing your fingers along it.
You feel him shaking, his breath quivering, and he groans slightly. His hands grip your thighs tightly, and you can feel his arousal growing beneath the towel that you are sitting over.
"A-apologies, I can't remain still," he apologizes, squirming slightly under your touch.
You smile softly at Gale's nervousness. "It's okay," you reassure him, continuing to carefully shave off the remaining hair. His skin is hot, but you can feel the goosebumps rising under your touch.
Gale lets out a shaky breath, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "I-I just...it feels peculiar," he mumbles, trying to keep still. You lower the razor from his chest to his stomach, your own breath a little shaky. You trace your fingers there, following the trail of the razor as you admire the smooth skin. Gale's muscles tense under your touch. You can feel your own arousal at the feeling of his hardness against you, and can't help moving your hips slightly over him. A low groan escapes Gale's lips as he responds eagerly to your movements.
"Everything alright, professor?" you ask breathlessly, your fingers still tracing patterns on his skin.
Gale's eyes fly open at your question, a look of confusion and desire in them. "I-It's...it's fine," he stammers, trying to compose himself. But his body betrays him, his hips moving against yours as he moans lowly.
Your own breathing quickens as you feel the heat between you intensify. Without hesitation, you lean in and claim Gale's lips as your own, savoring the hint of shaving cream and the feeling of the soft skin of his face, so different from the tickling you are used to. The kiss is intense and passionate, your tongues dancing together in a heated rhythm. You can just let out a soft moan into his mouth as his fingers trace up and down your spine, sending shivers down your body.
This time, you have half the mind to put the blade aside before turning back to him. Your hands start roaming over his smooth chest and stomach before trailing lower toward the towel that covers his arousal.
Gale's breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, and he breaks the kiss to look up at you with his eyes almost black with desire.
"I need you," he whispers huskily.
"So eager, Mr. Dekarios. You have to learn about patience," you tease, starting to unbuckle your trousers.
"I apologize, Miss, I must admit, patience has never been one of my strong suits." he replies, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You let out a soft laugh as you finish undoing your trousers and get up from his lap to let them fall to the ground. The rest of your still damp clothes follow, leaving you bare in front of him. Gale's eyes roam over your naked body, taking in every curve and detail.
"You're magnificent," he says, his voice low and husky.
"I could say the same about you, Mr. Dekarios," The words leave your lips with a teasing smirk, trying to mask the nervousness you feel under Gale's intense scrutiny.
You move to straddle Gale's hips once again, grinding against his now rock-hard cock, the contact making you both moan. His hand trails down your chest, until his fingers rest over one of your nipples. The electric sensation makes your body tremble and you can't help but whimper as he teases and toys with your sensitive flesh.
"I want to make you feel good," Gale whispers, his breath hot against your skin.
"And I want to make you feel good too," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another passionate kiss.
Gale's lips move from yours to trail down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses and love bites in their wake. Your head falls back in pleasure as his mouth moves to one of your nipples, sucking and nipping at it while his hand continues to fondle the other. The sensations are almost too much for you to handle and you can feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second. Gale is thick and throbbing against your core, and you grind yourself against him, both of you letting out low moans of pleasure. His fingers trace down your stomach until they reach your cunt, "You are dripping," he murmurs against your chest, his breath hot against your skin.
You can't help but let out a soft moan as his fingers begin to tease your folds, spreading your wetness and circling around your sensitive clit. You move against him, desperate for more contact, but he keeps teasing you with slow and deliberate movements. When his first finger finally enters you, you are so wet it almost gets sucked in. You cry out in relief, clenching around the digit as Gale's finger moves in and out of you, the slow and steady pace driving you mad with desire.
"I need more," you pant, unable to form any other words.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he adds a second finger, stretching you in the most delicious way. Your walls clench around him eagerly as he sets a faster pace, his fingers moving expertly inside of you. With each thrust of his fingers, your moans grow louder and more desperate.
Cursing the gods, he mutters to himself, "I can't believe my fortune. Here you are, a perfect mess, so desperate and eager. I am so overwhelmed by the depth of my love for you." Gale whispers against your ear as he adds a third finger, making you gasp at the slight stretch but also reveling in the fullness it brings. His thumb joins in on the action, rubbing circles over your clit and sending jolts of pleasure through your body.
"Please, my love," you whisper, looking into his intense brown eyes, which now look almost black with desire.
You can feel the coil in your stomach tightening, aching for release. Your hands grip onto his shoulders as you ride his fingers with with abandon, your body trembling with each thrust. Gale's lips find yours once again and he kisses you deeply, swallowing your moans as your body tenses and convulses. You come hard against his hand, your whole body trembling and shaking as waves of pleasure wash over you.
Gale doesn't stop though, his fingers continue to move inside of you, prolonging your orgasm until it becomes almost unbearable.
"I love you," Gale whispers between kisses.
"I love you too," you reply breathlessly, lost in the sensations coursing through your body.
He finally withdraws his hand and brings it up to his mouth, sucking on his fingers while staring into your eyes with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine.
"Allow me to make love to you," he pleads huskily.
With the last of your energy, you eagerly nod and open the towel beneath you, revealing his cock as it springs out. Gale's eyes rake over you hungrily before he positions himself between your legs, his erection rubbing against your wet folds.
Without breaking eye contact, you slowly lower yourself onto Gale, feeling him stretch and fill you in the most delicious way. A moan escapes your lips as he fills you completely, a perfect fit that always leaves you breathless. Gale's eyes never leave yours as he enters you, inch by inch. You still feel sensitive and spent at the recent orgasm, so you lean in and wrap your arms around his neck.
You whimper, "God, you're so big...filling me up so perfectly..."
He moans in response, spurred on by your filthy words as he always is.
"Only for you," Gale responds, his voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "Always for you."
His fingers dig into your waist as he holds himself steady, allowing you time to adjust to his size. You can feel the throbbing heat of him within you and it sends shivers of desire spiraling down your spine. After a few moments, you begin to move, rocking your hips in slow circles that have both of you gasping. Gale's gaze is on your face, drinking in every flicker of pleasure that crosses it. A loud moan leaves your lips as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Your nails dig into his skin as you ride him, meeting his every thrust with your own movements. The sounds of your bodies slapping against each other mix with your moans and gasps, filling the room.
Gale's lips find yours once again, kissing you deeply as he continues to pleasure you. His tongue expertly explores your mouth, before he leans back and looks into your eyes with his big brown orbs you have always loved so much.
"You're so pretty," you whisper, "even without the beard."
Gale's lips quirk up into a smile at your words.
"And you're my everything," Gale whispers against your lips, making your heart swell with love for this man.
At this point you have stilled again, just grinding against each other and whispering sweet nothing. You just can't seem to get enough, your forehead against his, lost in the sensations of his touch and warmth.
"Mhmm," you hum, your body clenching down on him again "I could do this all night."
He chuckles softly, "And I would let you, but there's one thing I want even more than this..."
"Oh?" you tease, arching an eyebrow.
"I need to feel you unravel yourself around me," his words send shivers down your spine.
"You'll have to work for that," you say with a grin, and start moving up and down his cock in slow strokes. The feeling of him sliding out of your tightness is followed by a squelching, and you are sure at this point you must be dripping all over him. The thought makes you clench again. Your breath hitches as the tip of his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot.
"Shit" Gale groans, closing his eyes in pleasure. His hands grip your hips hard enough to leave marks, but you don't care as he matches you stroke for stroke. He starts whining lowly, and it turns you on so much when he becomes whiny and desperate for you. "Please," he begs, "I need--"
You interrupt his plea with a hungry kiss, swallowing his desperate noises as you ride him harder, faster. Gale's hands wander over your body, caressing every inch of skin he can reach. His lips trail down from your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin. You let out a moan as his tongue flicks over your pulse point, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body.
Gale's hands then travel lower, cupping your breasts and massaging them gently. His thumbs graze over your hardened nipples, making you arch into his touch. You bring your hands to his hair, pulling at the base and eliciting a low growl from him.
You look into his eyes as you feel him getting closer to release, moaning against his lips. His hand finds your clit again and rubs it in a circular motion, adding to the pleasure coursing through your body. You meet his gaze and let out a long, drawn-out moan as you feel your walls gripping onto him.
"I love you," you moan against his lips, your voice filled with adoration and need.
Gale's movements become erratic at your words, his hand working faster on your clit. You both let out a symphony of moans and gasps as you reach your climax together.
You collapse onto Gale's chest, both of you trying to catch your breath. His arms wrap tightly around you, pulling you impossibly closer, still buried deeply inside of you.
"I love you so much," Gale says between breaths, kissing your shoulder.
You lean down and kiss him softly on the lips, your hands running soothingly over his chest. As you lay there in each other's arms, the world seems to fade away. All that matters is the feeling of being connected to Gale.
"You know, I think could get used to this," you whisper against his lips "Your skin is so soft now." Gale chuckles, "I hope you do, because you are performing my shaving duties from now on."
256 notes · View notes