#all fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devilry-revelry · 1 year

Text

Untitled - Male Orc x Female Human (Part 1)

TW: Creeps in vans following women at night (?)

It's literally just fluff, 0 spice.

“You’re bleeding,” Riley replied dumbly. “You just… You just tackled a van.”

The corner of the orc’s mouth quirked.

The meeting invitation appeared in Riley’s inbox at precisely 4:40PM. 20 minutes before she was due to clock out. It appeared with a cheery chime, as if it wasn’t delivering an urgent 4:50 meeting invite.

The subject was listed in all caps, with a big red exclamation point:

TOMORROW’S AUDIT

Various department heads were also listed on the meeting invite, but their presence was notably listed as optional, while hers was listed as a required attendance. None of the other recipients showed up to the meeting. It was just her, and her manager that met in the conference room. Riley hoped that the minimal attendance would mean that the meeting would be short and she would get out of the office and to the bus stop on time. The meeting was brief, and ended in less than the noted 10 minutes.

Her manager tacked on a cheery, “I’ll give you these three minutes back.” sort of comment as if she wasn’t off-handing a to-do list of hours worth of work that was due by the start of business the next day. While the work wasn’t difficult, it was endlessly frustrating. It was last-second busy work that wouldn’t have been necessary if the un-required-attendance team followed standard practice and procedures while going about their daily tasks. They didn’t, though. So Riley got to review the previous year’s files, and make necessary corrections and additions.

A couple of extra bodies would have made the job fast but Riley was flying solo, and it took her hours to finish. By the time she locked up the office and got outside it was nearing midnight. The buses had most definitely stopped running for the day. While she had been considering ordering a ride, she ultimately decided that she didn’t live too far away. Her apartment was only a couple miles away, and it wouldn’t kill her to get her steps in. The evening was pleasant, warm and clear with a bit of a breeze. If it wasn’t for the too-tall buildings of the business district, she would have been able to see the moon and the stars.

As pleasant as the evening air was, it was almost eerie. Riley had only ever been to the business district during business hours, where there was an almost constant bustle of people and cars milling about the street. After hours (before hours, in this case) it was a ghost town. The only thing that disrupted the quiet was the delicate clicking of her kitten heels–

And the sound of an engine, as a windowless white van cruised by her and up the road.

Riley made a quiet, grim, joke about the van. It touched on kidnappers and free candy, and ended with her convincing herself that the driver was probably some blue collar worker that had a late night just like she did.

A block later and she spotted the van again, this time doubling back the way it came. She wondered if the driver was lost, or if she was just walking so slow that the driver went and picked up some fast food and was doubling back to go home.

The third time Riley saw the windowless van she cursed her manager so hard that she hoped that everyone in her bloodline felt it.

It was easier to believe that she had an overactive imagination than to believe that someone would be following her in an actual creeper-mobile in the middle of the night. She felt guilty when she attempted to snap a picture of the license plate as it cruised up the road and out of sight, still partially convinced that she was overreacting. She considered calling the police, and then talked herself out of it. What would she say, anyway? That someone was driving by a lot? And what would the police say? Could they even really do anything if nothing had been done?

On the van’s fourth pass, Riley realized that getting her steps in just might actually kill her.

The idea of taking an alleyway shortcut surfaced, and she quickly stomped it down. A little more bad luck and going down the alleyway could result in her own missing person ad. Getting home as fast as she could seemed optimal, but then she couldn’t help but think about potentially leading the van straight to her apartment building and living with the knowledge that they would know where she lived. So she took a detour. It would tack a good 15 minutes on to her journey, but the new route would take her through the entertainment district. It would be well lit, and more populated. She would bypass a couple of bars. Maybe they stayed open late on weeknights. She could duck inside, call a cab, call the police, call her mom and tell her that she regretted ever moving to the city.

On the fifth pass, Riley was turning onto the main thoroughfare of the entertainment district. Unfortunately, the street wasn’t the thriving place she knew it to be on the weekend. It was just as dead as her primary route, and while it was better lit it wasn’t the beacon of light and music she had wanted it to be.

The road she veered down was one-way, and while the van didn’t turn after her, it slowed in the intersection considerably before driving off. As soon as the vehicle was out of view, Riley pulled off her heels and started to run. She made it a single block before her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it pulse in her ears, and despite the favorable weather she started to shiver. Regardless of it all, there was still some part of her insisting that she was overreacting, that this sort of fear-response was insanely dramatic. Time crawled. Seconds felt like hours. Feet felt like miles.

By the time an open bar came into view she felt like crying.

Just outside of the streetlight, the exterior was aglow with wicked crimson neon, and there was a row of motorcycles lining the sidewalk. There were a total of two people lingering outside and they were very visibly non-human. One of the figures was distinctly draconic or reptilian in nature. A figure with sharp teeth, dark scales, and glowing eyes. The other could have been mistaken for a very big human if it wasn’t for the large tusks jutting up from his bottom row of teeth. They stood side-by-side, leaning against the building, each nursing a pint.

There was a fresh wave of paranoia that surfaced (what if the driver had been herding her in this direction?). She mentally prepared for the worst, and desperately hoped for the best as she made a mad dash towards the bar. She got a couple feet into the street then came to an abrupt stop.

The van was in the intersection right next to the bar. The tinted windows were like black mirrors, reflecting the green glow from the street light, and the red neon from the bar.

Riley backpedaled back to the sidewalk. Her entire body was quaking now in big fitful shudders. She wasn’t getting enough air.

The streetlight flicked over to a flashing yellow. And then red.

There was a whistle, loud and so shrill it made Riley flinch. Her eyes tore away from the van and landed on the two magick that loomed outside of the bar, just beyond the line of motorcycles. The orc had discarded his beer and had stepped away from the building. Even from across the street, Riley noted him to be huge – and he looked downright monstrous with the blood-red neon lining his figure.

“You good, babe?”

The orc’s draconic companion set his drink aside, attention glued to the loitering vehicle. Riley followed his glowing gaze.

The light had changed back to green, and the van was beginning to ease forward into the intersection at an intimidating crawl. Breathless, and feeling weak, Riley pointed at the van.

And that was all it took.

Riley barely even lifted her hand to gesture at the van, and it caused the orc to take a running charge at it. His long dark hair splayed behind him with the burst of speed. His face contorted in a vicious snarl. Tires squealed. The van lurched forward but it wasn’t fast enough. The orc had already closed the distance.

He slammed into the driver’s side door. The window shattered. The collision was delivered with so much force that the driver’s side of the vehicle lifted off of the ground and for a moment it teetered on the passenger side wheels. There was a terrified scream, the van righted itself – and then it sped off into the night.

The orc stalked after it for a few paces, swearing in a language that was harsh and guttural.

Riley watched, awestruck.

Breathing was suddenly easier.

When the orc turned towards her, his whole demeanor changed. He was no longer some rage-fueled beast charging into battle. He was no longer a snarling mass of anger and muscle. His movements were more gentle, his demeanor softening as he made a tentative approach. He treated her like a frightened deer who was ready to run.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was low and gentle, the edges curling with something husky and rough. “Hey, honey, are you alright?”

Riley took him in as he approached. The massive, looming height. The tattooed sleeves of black on his arms that started at his biceps then faded as it stretched down towards his wrists. The tusks that reached up past his sharp nose, the stern brow that loomed over dark eyes. The blood. There was blood on his face, blood on the neck of his white t-shirt.

“You’re bleeding,” Riley replied dumbly. “You just… You just tackled a van.”

The corner of the orc’s mouth quirked, “Yeah, well. I think I had some alright reasoning. Looks like you might be bleeding too.”

“What?” Riley practically squawked. Her hand reached up to her forehead, feeling around the same area where he had sustained his own injury.

The orc chuckled softly, “Your foot.”

Riley looked down to her nylon covered feet, and saw stamps of blood on the pavement. Awareness tore through the already dwindling adrenaline. Stinging pain blossomed in the pad of her foot.

“Oh.” She lifted her foot, cursing as she saw another stamp of blood on the sidewalk. Tears began to prickle at the corners of her eyes. “Oh. Ouch.”

A big hand touched her elbow, warm and grounding. She looked up, up, up at the orc who now stood beside her. Jesus, he was massive. And quiet on his feet.

“Why don’t we get you inside. We can get you cleaned up then get you home.”

Riley fumbled with her thoughts. She managed to stammer out a feeble, “You’ve already done enough, sir. Thank you, but–”

“Arzok,” he said. He stepped in a bit closer, his voice gentling even further. “I’m going to pick you up now. We don’t want you getting anything in whatever is already bleeding.”

“No, really,” Riley insisted. “I’m fine. I’m–”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“I– Riley–”

“It’s nice to meet you, Riley. I want you to take a deep breath. Nice and slow. Good girl.” He smiled, and Riley’s nerves began to settle. “I’m going to pick you up. We are going to cross the street and go inside, and we’re going to get you cleaned up. Okay?”

Swallowing, Riley nodded. She took another deep breath. “‘Kay.”

Arzok dipped down and scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing. He strode across the street, calm and casual. Like he didn’t just nearly overturn a van by himself. Riley stared up into his face, barely even processing that the dragon that had been with him, told them that he called the police and reported the incident, and the plate number. Arzok replied in that language Riley didn’t understand, and then they entered the bar.

Music blared into her ears as soon as the door opened. The smell of fried food and liquor assaulted her senses. If she hadn’t been on the brink of having a good old fashioned come-apart, it might have been a fun place to hang out but in the moment it was far too much. Riley turned her face into Arzok’s chest and took another calming breath. When she turned her attention outward, she was being carried behind the bar, and through the walkway near the kitchen. The smell of fry oil became especially pungent. He took a turn into what appeared to be an office space, and then on into the adjoining bathroom. It was a clean space, and well lit; likely reserved for staff. It smelled clean. Like air freshener with a touch of bleach.

Arzok set Riley on the bathroom counter then knelt to dig through the cabinetry beneath her. Not a moment later and a first aid kit was being set beside him. He popped it open and dug through the contents for a moment.

“So. Why are you out so late, Riley?”

“I–” The nylon on her wounded foot was torn away, shredding with a wisp of sound. Riley grimaced and recoiled, suddenly reminded that her feet were probably disgusting and dirty. “I can do this. You can go ahead and go.”

Still kneeling on the bathroom floor, his fingers circled her ankle and held her still. “Let me,” he said. “You can do me next.”

Something about him managed to calm her worries, and she settled onto the counter. She was rewarded with a wink, then he was all business.

He opened a tiny-packaged towelette and started rubbing the asphalt and dirt from her foot. He tossed the soiled wipe into the trash, then unpackaged a fresh one to clean the cut itself. “Talk to me. Why are you out so late? And alone, no less…”

“I was given some last minute overtime,” Riley grumbled. “The buses stopped running a couple of hours ago. So…” her shoulders hiked up to her ears.

“Shit, sweetheart. You don’t have a boyfriend who could have come to pick you up?”

Riley snorted inelegantly, “No.”

Arzok’s dark eyes met hers. He paused in his work, his hand still clasped around her ankle. He smiled slowly as he drawled, “Would you like one?”

The surprise was short lived, cut off by sharp acrid pain as he pressed an alcohol doused swab against the cut on her foot. Tears instantly gathered in Riley’s eyes and she tried to yank her herself from his grasp, but Arzok held firm. He crooned quiet words of encouragement until the pain receded. When he was finished cleaning the laceration, he wrapped her foot with a bit of gauze and medical tape.

“Your turn.”

Arzok rose from the ground placing the first aid kit beside Riley. Before she had the chance to hop down from the counter, he placed his big hands on either side of her legs, then leaned in. He tilted his head just so, giving her clear and easy access to the cut on his forehead.

It was daunting, being so close to someone so big – and yet she wasn’t afraid. There wasn’t a single alarm bell telling her body that it needed to fight or flee. It was strange, albeit quiet contentment. Riley rationalized it by summing it up to the fact that Arzok had tackled a van because she had pointed at it. And he potentially (probably) saved her life.

Riley fretted after the cut first. She was concerned with the amount of blood. It was on the side of his face, his neck, his shirt. Despite the amount of blood, it was a small little cut. He’d been drinking, and it was a head wound. It was treated with an alcohol swab, which Arzok took without even flinching, and then Riley tasked herself with scrubbing away the blood.

“So?” Arzok asked as she worked.

“So what?”

He smiled, turning his head to pin her with his dark gaze, but Riley took his chin in her hand and turned him away. He laughed, “So can I get your number, Riley?”

She pulled her hands away, physically recoiling with her surprise. “What? Why?”

“Because I think you’re fucking cute, and I’d like to take you on a date. Maybe I can be the one you call when you get saddled with more overtime.”

“You don’t mean that,” came the fast reply. It wasn’t that Riley didn’t think herself worthy of a man’s attention. When she picked the right clothes, and put a bit of effort into her appearance, Riley could pick up a man no problem. But her most recent visit to the dating pool didn’t end well, and beyond that she was wearing her work clothes, looking deliberately mousey and – after running for her life – messy. She looked disheveled, and on the verge of falling apart.

“Yes I do.” He grabbed her wrists, gently guiding them away from his face. He stayed stooped over so he was eye-level. “Let me take you home. Let me give you my number and you can use it if you want to.”

Once again, Riley was quietly amazed that no alarm bells sounded. She didn’t wrestle with the idea of a stranger taking her home. It was one of those things that felt natural to do. This was the closest that Riley had ever been to an orc and she was only somewhat perplexed by her level of comfort. The amount of forwardness he showed should have been a bit more off putting, but Riley found it endearing.

What were the symptoms of shock? What was the reverse of Stockholm syndrome?

“Fine,” she eventually said, obeying the curious gut instinct to allow the orc to take care of her. “But only because you tackled a van for me.”

Arzok smiled big, triumphant and charming, “Good fucking deal.”

[Part 2] [Part 3]

258 notes · View notes

wanderinguteruspress-blog · 9 months

Text

Rise August Art Challenge -Kimono

Day 13

Augghhaaahh putting them in Kimonos and sending them on a date to a festival because I can 😍🤮

It’s so cute I’m making myself sick hahaha

#rise tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise leo #leo hamato #tmnt #leosagi #tortise and hare #bunny boy #these bitches gay #dumb bunny #smart turtle?#usagi yuichi #rise august art challenge #Leo and Usagi #all fluff #I make fluff because I can #no one can stop me

81 notes · View notes

butraura · 5 months

Text

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

In which Eddie returns home on November 1st and finds that Buck and Christopher have transformed the house into a holiday nightmare.

Eddie’s honorary toothache dissipates by the time he begins his drive home. He starts to feel more like himself again, and is happy to be past the Halloween tomfoolery and back to regular life for a while before the holidays.

He doesn’t notice anything amiss while he ascends the steps to his front door. He doesn’t notice the unmistakable smell of sugar cookies through the door. He certainly doesn’t notice the lights expertly run along the perimeter of the windows. Eddie is in his own calm, serene, and willfully ignorant world.

Until he opens the door.

If it were possible, he could swear that Christmas took temporary form as a human and literally sucker punched him as he walked in the door. He drops his duffel bag at the threshold, alarmed.

“What the f-”

“Dad!” Christopher greets cheerily as he shuffles out of the kitchen toward him. “Do you like it?”

Eddie exercises his fifth amendment right and chooses to let his look of utter disgust be mistaken for genuine surprise. He looks around, aghast, absorbing the assault on most of his senses. The Christmas tree is up, lit, and decorated (Eddie wonders briefly where they even found a tree on the first of November?), Santa Claus is Coming to Town is playing on the TV in the living room. Wreaths, garland, and tinsel deck every part of the halls. He actually checks his watch. He’s only been gone for like, 13 hours. How could they have possibly done all of this in so little time?

Tags: @watchyourbuck, @steadfastsaturnsrings, @fortheloveofbuddie idk who else to tag haha

29 notes · View notes

sadhappylady · 12 days

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Young Royals (TV 2021) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Simon Eriksson/Wilhelm Characters: Simon Eriksson, Wilhelm (Young Royals) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Kid Fic, kind of, Comfort, they're exhausted but happy your honor, Simon Eriksson Loves Wilhelm, Wilhelm Loves Simon Eriksson, no beta we die like Erik, Crown Prince Wilhelm (Young Royals) Summary:

Simon felt a genuine smile emerge from within his chest. "Is it ok if I just lay here a little first, though?" "Mhm, of course." Wilhelm cleared his throat. "And yes, I'm actually feeling a lot better." As Simon put his head on Wille's chest, he could feel Wille's hands come up to reach around him and hug him tightly.

--------

Wilhelm is sick, their youngest is sick, and Simon is trying to take care of his family while also juggling his other responsibilities. Finally there is a moment of peace, where they can just be together.

#my fic #ficlet #oops #all fluff #young royals fanfic #young royals fanfiction #yr fanfic #wilmon ficlet

7 notes · View notes

leiawritesstories · 1 year

Text

Next Thing You Know, 2

hey @tomtenadia it's here! thank you for encouraging this story <3

PART ONE

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: very very tiny bit of language, some innuendo, and absolutely tons of fluff. probably the fluffiest thing i've written in months haha.

Enjoy! (and yes, there will be a third part)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing on the beach beneath a quickly constructed arch of flowers and greenery, Rowan clasped his hands behind his back, surprised to find himself nervous. To his side, Lorcan cleared his throat, a subtle reminder to get his shit together. Rowan rolled his eyes at his close friend, refraining from mumbling the curse that slipped to his tongue. Also beneath the arch, Rhoe Galathynius coughed, his own reminder to the younger men to behave themselves.

A moment later, Elide appeared, her simple, soft lavender dress floating around her body, a small bouquet of wildflowers in her hand. She threw Lorcan a wink as she took her place opposite him and Rowan, waiting for the bride to make her appearance.

Burning gods above.

Aelin locked her eyes onto Rowan’s as she approached the arch and took her place, her lips curving into a wickedly satisfied smile. She looked–she was–breathtaking.

Clad in a form-fitting golden dress that molded to each line and slope and curve of her body, Aelin was a living flame in the dusk. And her gleeful grin only accentuated how brightly she burned.

Rhoe cleared his throat, bringing everyone’s attention to him. Casting his daughter a soft, proud grin, he opened the small book in his hands and began.

“Dearly beloved…”

“You may now kiss the bride,” Rhoe concluded. “Congratulations, son.”

Nothing on the earth or above the earth could compare to what Aelin felt as she looped her arms around Rowan’s neck, bowing into his tender embrace, and kissed him, sealing their union as husband and wife. They lost themselves in each other’s kiss, not even caring that their friends were watching and cheering and probably even catcalling a little.

When they pulled apart, both were grinning widely, newlywed joy shining bright in their faces.

“I love you,” Rowan whispered into her ear, lacing his fingers through hers.

“I love you,” Aelin whispered back, tugging on his hand and leading him down the “aisle” to much cheering and applause from the three others gathered there. His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

After sharing laughs and a few tears and lots of hugs with their few friends, Aelin found her way to her father, wordlessly pressing herself into his proud embrace.

“I’m so proud of you, Fireheart,” Rhoe murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She sniffled. “I’m still a little scared of how Mom and everyone are going to react when they find out that we eloped, and that you did the ceremony.”

“Let me handle that,” her father replied. “Your mother will understand, I know she will.”

“I…okay.” She took a deep breath and hugged her father fiercely. “I love you so much, Dad.”

Rhoe brushed his hand over the top of his grown-up daughter’s head. “I love you more, Fireheart. Now go find that husband of yours, I’ve got a few words for him.”

She chuckled wetly. “Don’t beat him up, Dad. I need Rowan to be unharmed for the next few weeks or so.”

“I’ll leave him in one piece.” Rhoe hugged Aelin one more time before letting her go. “I’m so proud of you, my daughter.”

Aelin slipped up to Rowan’s side, linking her hand with his as she rolled up onto her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “Dad says he wants to talk to you.”

“Why does that scare me?” Rowan mumbled, mild concern flickering through his eyes.

She chuckled. “He said he’d be nice…”

“And I’m sure he will be?”

“Well, considering I told him I need you in one piece…”

“You’re a menace, my love,” Rowan laughed.

Aelin beamed. “I’m your menace now, my buzzard.”

He flashed her a tiny, secret grin. “Yes you are.” Before he went over to Rhoe, he stole another kiss, not even caring that Elide and Lorcan both whooped at the sight. It was his and Aelin’s wedding day, after all; they could kiss as much as they wanted.

Rowan stood with Rhoe for only a few minutes, the two men sharing a brief, muted conversation before Rhoe wrapped his arm around Rowan’s shoulders, grinning. Rowan returned to Aelin’s side shortly later, only a little bit dazed.

“He called me son,” he murmured, wonder coating his tone.

She beamed up at him. “Dad has seen you as his son practically since the first day you came over to my house. This is the best day of his life–he was right about you and me.”

“Best day of my life, too.” Rowan tipped his head down, brushing a soft kiss behind Aelin’s ear. “Shall we, Fireheart?”

“We shall, buzzard.”

He lifted her into his arms, grinning at her half-squawk, half-gasp of shock, and strode off towards his truck, both of them waving at their friends as they left. Like the gentleman he was, he handed her up into the passenger seat, grinning like a little kid when he swung himself into the driver’s seat, turned on the ignition, and laced his fingers through hers as he drove away into the night.

“We did it,” Aelin breathed, half convinced it was only a dream.

“We did it,” Rowan whispered, flicking her a grin while still keeping his eyes on the road. Mostly on the road.

The short drive to the beach house went by far too fast, both of the newlyweds lost in the giddy glee of the realization that they were married. For the first little bit of their honeymoon, Aelin had convinced Rowan to stay at the Galathynius family’s beach house, since it was conveniently available.

“And so many of us forget it’s there,” she added, laughing wryly. “We used to love going there as kids, and now we’re all so busy that the place stands empty most of the time.”

“How convenient,” Rowan chuckled.

She smirked. “Indeed.” She brushed a soft, teasing kiss just below his ear. “For I don’t intend to be disturbed for at least a few days.”

“Days?” He arched a brow, tamping down his wicked smirk. “Awfully high expectations, my love. Gonna back them up?”

“We’ll see,” she hummed, her eyes sparkling in the dimness of the truck. “Think you can make it more than three minutes, old man?”

Rowan pulled into the driveway, threw the truck into park with more force than strictly necessary, and leaned over into the passenger seat, pressing Aelin’s back into the seat cushion. “Old man?” he growled, the rasp of his voice dancing along her spine.

Trailing her fingers through the silvery strands of his hair, she nodded languidly. “Mhmm.”

His lips brushed across her pulse point, the kiss a bare hint of his intent. “We’ll see,” he whispered darkly, parroting her earlier teasing. He felt more than heard the shaky exhale she released at that, her chest heaving.

“So much talk and so little action.” she murmured, that snark of hers still in full force.

So he hopped out of the truck, pulled open her door, and all but hauled her over his shoulder as he strode up to the front door.

Her shocked gasp quickly gave way to a giggle when he shifted her into his arms to carry his lovely bride across the doorway. “Such a gentleman, darling husband.”

“Only the best for my wife.”

A shudder raced through Aelin’s whole body at the promise in those words. Rowan set her down and stepped out of his shoes, so she took a second to kick off her heels before turning back to her husband, the words she wanted to say suddenly failing.

“Ro–”

“Fireheart,” he whispered, tracing his fingertips along her cheekbone, no more than a breath of space between them.

And then her lips were pressed into his, her kiss slow, unhurried. She rose onto her tiptoes to reach his height, but when her knees wobbled from the sheer overpowering emotion of it all, he lifted her into his arms, letting her legs wrap around his waist.

For an endless moment, they just shared that kiss, needing nothing more than each other. Rowan slipped his lips down Aelin’s jaw, kissing along the elegant line of her throat, drawing a soft, breathy gasp out of her. Her head tipped back against the wall, allowing him access to her neck, and his whole body shuddered.

“Aelin,” he panted, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, knowing his own were darkened with desire. “I–”

“I love you,” she breathed, her voice remarkably steady despite her fluttering pulse. “I’m yours.”

“As I am yours,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

It was barely a few seconds before her nimble fingers slipped beneath his untucked shirt, her touch electric against his skin. His hands flexed beneath her thighs, where he held her, his control rapidly fraying. “Gods,” he gasped, “Fireheart, please.”

“Begging for me already?” she teased softly, winking at him.

Almost before she could blink, he’d walked them into the master bedroom and closed the door, pressing her back into the smooth, cool wood. “Oh, love,” he purred, “I don’t intend to be the only one begging tonight.”

Fuck, that tone of his did bad things to her failing self-control. Her breath escaped shakily, her heartbeat racing as he lifted his hands to the straps of her dress. “Can I…”

“Yes.” She rested her hands atop his, tugging the dress’s straps down. “Yes, Ro.”

Slowly, he slipped the dress off her shoulders, letting the fabric pool at her waist. His gaze followed, tracing down her exposed curves, her skin bared to the low lamplight. She felt how sharply he inhaled when he realized she hadn’t been wearing a bra. “Fuck, love!” His heart thundered beneath her palms. “You’re trying to kill me.”

“It’s working,” she smirked, dancing her fingertips over her skin.

Quicker than she could blink, Rowan’s hand replaced hers, his touch tentative, exploratory, his callouses rougher than her manicured nails. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, returning his lips to her neck as his fingers skimmed over her collarbones, over the swell of her breasts. “Absolutely perfect.”

She walked her hands down the front of his now-unbuttoned shirt, pushing the offending material off his shoulders and drinking in the sight of his bare chest and the tattoo spiraling up his arm and side. “You’re not so bad yourself, love.”

He chuckled into the crook of her neck. “How kind of you.”

Her fingers skated up his side, along the words inked there. “You’re gorgeous, buzzard,” she murmured, her admiration breaking into a groan of pleased shock at the way he palmed her breasts. “Oh, gods!”

“No, just me,” he smirked.

So she pushed her dress all the way down to the floor, revealing her complete and utter lack of undergarments.

Rowan loved that golden dress on her.

He loved it even more when tumbled to the floor.

Resisting the sudden urge to cover herself with her hands, Aelin just lifted her eyes to her husband’s, nervousness flickering across her face for an instant.

“Fireheart,” he breathed, absolute awe coating his words, his face, “you are stunning.”

Then, he laid her gently down on the bed and proved it.

Aelin’s whole body was shaking.

She clutched her hands together to keep her fingers from spasming, twisting her wedding ring around and around her finger. It was an old nervous tic of hers, toying with her rings, something she only did when she had to force her mind to be calm rather than a storm of anxious worry.

Ding! Her phone’s timer chimed. All of a sudden, she was a blur of motion, leaping up from the edge of the bathtub to turn off the timer and then, not quite sure if the butterflies stampeding in the pit of her stomach were excited or terrified or both, she turned her eyes towards the two white plastic sticks on the bathroom counter.

And found two blue lines on each stick.

Gasping, Aelin grasped the edge of the countertop to steady herself, her jaw falling open in complete incredulity. The tests…they were positive. Positive. Unconsciously, one hand slipped down to her lower abdomen, some ancient protective instinct guiding her to cup the tiny little life growing inside of her.

Just to be completely sure, she took a digital test, a shocked sob breaking from her throat when that one, too, confirmed that she was pregnant. Three weeks pregnant or more, according to the little screen on the test.

She and Rowan had only been married for two months.

Before the butterflies crowding her stomach could turn into buffalo, Aelin picked up the positive tests, hid them carefully in the bathroom cabinet, walked out into the bedroom, sat down on the end of the bed, and exhaled long and slow. She was pregnant. She and Rowan were going to be parents.

She just had to figure out how in all hell to tell him.

Luckily for her, Target was only a ten-minute drive away, and the baby clothing department there was always well stocked.

Rowan’s truck pulled into the driveway just after six-thirty, the door thunking shut and the truck beeping when its doors locked. He walked in a minute later, dropping his work bag and kicking off his shoes, loosening his tie with a groan of relief. “I’m home, Fireheart!”

“Hey, love.” Aelin leaned into his side, rising onto her toes to capture his lips softly. “Long day again?”

“Always,” he grumbled. “Better now, though.”

“Good.” She ran her fingers through his mussed hair. “Hungry?”

“Very.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for another kiss. “Even dessert.”

She swatted his arm, her eyes dancing. “Real food first, Ro.”

He smirked. “If you insist, my love.” His nose twitched. “I smell awful, I’m going to shower before dinner.”

“Please do,” she deadpanned.

He clutched his heart as he headed for the bedroom. “Cruel woman!”

“I love you too,” she called back, chuckling.

Laughter would do nicely to temper her thundering heart, which raced with anticipation and terror at the knowledge that it would be only moments before Rowan walked into the master bathroom and discovered the little surprise she’d laid there.

It hadn’t been five minutes before there was a muffled thud in the bathroom.

Seconds later, Rowan reappeared in the kitchen, one of the pregnancy tests clutched in his hand, his eyes huge and shimmering with tears. “Ae…Aelin?” he choked out, voice stumbling in disbelief. “Is this…are you…?”

“I’m pregnant, Ro,” Aelin murmured, her own tears breaking free from her control and sliding down her face.

“You’re pregnant,” he breathed. His body betrayed him then, knees weakening and causing him to sink to the floor, staring up at her in pure, overjoyed shock. “Fireheart, we’re going to be parents?”

“Yeah.” She joined him on the floor, cupping her hands around his jaw. “We’re going to be parents, my buzzard.” She sniffled, beaming through her tears.

His thumb brushed stray tears off of her chin. “I love you so much,” he whispered, his own smile matching hers.

“I love you more,” she whispered back, a sob clogging her throat.

“Impossible.” Unbidden, his large, warm hand slipped around to her stomach, hovering over her skin as if he was unsure whether he could touch. Aelin wrapped her hand around his wrist, guiding his hand down onto her stomach.

“We love you,” she murmured.

And Rowan released a heaving sob, overcome by the shock and the exhilaration of everything they were about to experience.

Three more weeks. By this point, it was the only thing keeping Aelin going. Three more weeks–just three!--before she and Rowan met their baby. She was feeling the oddest mix of nerves about giving birth and eagerness to have the baby out of her; damn Rowan and his massive stature for making the baby measure in the 97th percentile, as she so often teased him.

“Baby’s still comfortable in there,” Aelin’s OB laughed, disposing of her gloves and handing Aelin a towel to clean the ultrasound gel off her bump. “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal. You’re only thirty-eight weeks, and first babies often come after forty weeks. Technically, that’s considered over term, but it’s very normal for a first baby.”

“Bloody hell,” Aelin grumbled, throwing Rowan a playful glare. “This is your fault, y’know, buzzard.”

He winked cheekily. “Doctor says it’s normal, love.”

“For you to make massive demon spawn–ouch, you stop that, little one!” She rubbed her bump, soothing the place the baby had just kicked. “Damn, already Dad’s best friend and not even born yet.”

Dr. Towers chuckled. “Right, Aelin–we’re all done for today, and I hope the next time I see you, it’s in the delivery room.” She winked. “Call me if you hit forty weeks and little one is still chilling, okay? We might have to talk about inducing labor if that happens.”

“Is that normal?” Aelin’s brows furrowed.

The doctor nodded. “Very common. Don’t worry, Aelin; it’s most likely that you’ll go into labor naturally, especially with a 97th-percentile baby.”

Aelin muttered something about so size does matter that the doctor chose not to hear.

Rowan, though, flushed bright red and spluttered. “Aelin!”

She snickered. “Love you too, Ro. Thanks, doc.” She pushed herself awkwardly off the ultrasound bed, wrapping her arm around Rowan’s waist for support. Dr. Towers waved and headed out, leaving the couple to themselves.

Rowan was still fighting his blush. “You’re incorrigible, Fireheart.”

“You love it,” she grinned.

He sighed dramatically. “Yeah, I do. Want to get a milkshake?” It had become their post-appointment tradition.

“Hell yeah!” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Hear that, little one? We’re getting a milkshake!” The baby shifted around, as if in agreement. Aelin beamed. “I think she wants chocolate.”

“So confident it’s a girl,” her husband teased.

“Mother’s intuition.”

“Mhmm, and does that also tell you what flavor milkshake the baby wants?”

“Of course.” She winked and leaned in closer to his side, a wicked smirk curling her lips. “Mama prefers a certain kind of milkshake, but we can’t buy it in the shop.”

For the second time in ten minutes, Rowan’s face flushed beet red. He clamped his lips together, forcing the saddest thoughts he could conjure into his mind to keep his…male instinct down. “Fireheart,” he groaned, visibly uncomfortable from the way his jeans had tightened. “Why?”

She giggled. “Because it’s so fun to watch you get all flustered, love. And I like you all flustered, I really do.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes skyward. “Love you too, Ae.” Leaning down, he kissed her bump. “I love you too, little one.”

Baby kicked again, stirring at the sound of Rowan’s voice.

For the gods only knew how many times, Aelin’s eyes clouded with tears again. Hell, she couldn’t wait to make that man a father.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #next thing you know #rowaelin fanfiction #fluff #all fluff #i PROMISE #frederick was banned from this fic

66 notes · View notes

dad-sun-and-moon · 1 year

Text

I am writing Baby Gegy fluff

#the dadcare attendant #fnaf sun and moon dad au #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's #doodle speaks #baby gregory au #hehe #fluff #yep #all fluff

50 notes · View notes

iamthecomet · 1 year

Note

CHALLENGE!!!! Based on a hc of mine. After Terzo, Secondo, and Primo died Copia didn't have anyone to talk to about the his decisions for the band. (because like hell was he going to talk to Nihil or Sister) so he turns to the oldest member Mountain for advice. They grew close and Mountain couldn't help but fall in love with his adorable Copia and vice versa

Ok, I've been saving this one for when I was feeling in the mood for writing sweet things. My brain wants fluff. So today's the day.

He doesn't know when it happened. When Copia stopped being a helpless fumbling man and turned into a real leader of the church. Mountain can't pinpoint the change in him. It's been slow. Confidence growing in him millimeter by millimeter. When Copia first called Mountain into his office he was distraught. Wearing a path on the hardwood floor as he paced in behind his desk. The light from the stained glassed window casting a kaleidoscope of colors over Copia's white suit. He was frazzled, hair a mess, eyes wide. He looked at Mountain and panic lacing his features. What do I do? Tell me what to do.

And Mountain did his best. He's the oldest ghoul at the Abbey, he's seen this happen over and over again. And everyone else had help, had a predecessor, and a father, to walk them through it. Copia had nothing. Mountain found himself in Copia's office most afternoons between lunch and dinner. Talking him through countless pages of paperwork. Putting a hand on the center of his back when Copia would dissolve into tears.

Mountain gave him something steady to cling to. And Mountain--Mountain fell. Mountain fell for Copia the same way he fell for Aether, for Dewdrop. Hard. All of a sudden. Like the floor tipping out from under him. He watches him rifle through papers, drag his hands through his hair, messing it up even though he has an important meeting later. And Mountain's heart hammers in his chest. He catches Copia looking at him sometimes, when Mountain is reading something to help him, or pretending to nap on the sofa. He sees the way Copia's face goes soft as soon as Mountain walks into the room. It makes something in his stomach clench. "Caro, are you listening?" Mountain's eyes jump to Copia's, he drags his hand over his face and tries to look at the paperwork Copia has just shoved in front of him. Copia's hand is right next to his, their pinky's just barely touching. "I'm sorry, Papa."

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not Papa yet."

Mountain meets his eyes. "You will be, soon."

Copia's cheeks go a little pink. He's still uncomfortable with the whole idea. Even though it's been the plan since day one. He will lead the church. And he will be good at it. Mountain knows it.

Mountain puts his hand over Copia's and squeezes. "Mountain," Copia's voice has gone breathy. Mountain's stomach flips with butterflies. He can't remember the last time he felt butterflies--the last time he fell this completely. "Do you--I mean do ghoul's ever--with humans--I mean, would you--could you feel--"

Mountain shifts, leaning over the desk and catching Copia's lips on his before he can fumble any further into the question. He doesn't have the right words to answer. Everything he thinks of feels lacking. Paltry. Like the words don't exist in English--or Italian, for that matter. When Mountain pulls away, Copia puts a hand on the back of his neck to keep him close, Mountain tips his forehead against Copia's, mindful, as always, of the horns. "So you do, then?"

"Yes. I do."

#comet writes #ficlet #copia/mountain #copia x mountain #cardinal copia #mountain ghoul #plasma #request #fluff #all fluff #ghost fic #the band ghost fan fiction #ghost fan fiction #nameless ghoul fan fic

37 notes · View notes

chronic-boogara · 2 years

Text

☥eshas 2022 halloween event ☥

greetings my gorgeous slasher simps. it’s that time of year again so you know what that means: it’s prime time to be writing spooky stuffs. instead of doing a kinktober i’m a doing flufftober thing but don’t worry i’m going to do a smutty november event probably so that’ll make up for me missing kinktober <3

table of contents

☆day 1- raking leaves together (billy loomis)

☆day 2-making costumes (thomas hewitt)

☆day 3- carving pumpkins(jason vorhees)

☆day 4- watching horror movies(carrie white)

☆day 5- picking pumpkins(stu macher)

☆day 6- haunted house(michael myers)

☆day 7- picking out costumes(candyman)

☆day 8- eating all the candy(bubba sawyer)

☆day 9-halloween party(jason dean)

☆day 10- putting up decorations(herbert west)

☆day 11- getting lost in a corn maze(bo sinclair)

☆day 12- sexy costumes(stu macher)

☆day 13- apple picking(lester sinclair)

☆day 14- pie tasting(vincent sinclair)

☆day 15

☆day 16

☆day 17

☆day 18

☆day 19

☆day 20

☆day 21

☆day 22

☆day 23

☆day 24

☆day 25

☆day 26

☆day 27

☆day 28

☆day 29

☆day 30

☆day 31

53 notes · View notes

with-the-storms-aid · 1 year

Text

A Silent Reunion

Warnings: none! Just fluff!

Extra: Hi! Welcome to my first post! This is a short story I created to go with my DND character, Bait, and his husband, William. This is the first drabble I wrote for them and is not where the story will officially begin, but will at least introduce you, slightly, to my characters! I hope you all love them as much as I do!

Word count: 440 words

Bugs chirp in the quiet summer air as a gentle breeze flows throughout the semi-avian city. The night was calm and quiet as a couple finally decided to head to bed. It felt like mere moments since the two found each other yet again, though it had, in reality, been several hours. The two men soon found themselves laying together, as an entanglement of limbs and cloth, on what felt like the most plush mattress in the world. No words were exchanged as honey gold and melted chocolate eyes stared into one another. Bait was never one for words, especially not in situations like this. He always found himself tripping over his own tongue, his brain rushing through the words like an avalanche as his tongue fell into the debris. Yet, this never stopped him from telling William his undying devotion towards him, even if it wasn’t spoken. Dark green hands found their way up to rest against William’s face. Rough, calloused fingers, covered in a myriad of small scars, traced across the pale skin as the two laid there. Bait’s fingers danced across his husband’s narrow features as if he were trying to memorize every divet, every small blemish in case he were to disappear again. He could do this for hours. He could lay there, doing nothing more then caress his husband’s face for days if he was allowed to. Bait saw the man in front of him as his everything. To him, William was nothing but perfection. The universe could not have created a more perfect being then the man who married him. As Bait continued to trace his face, he couldn’t help but imagine himself as the universe, slowly sculpting the narrow face of his own personal god. Suddenly, Bait was brought out of his thoughts as William turned to place a kiss in the palm of his hand. In that second, it was as if his brain short circuited, unsure of how to respond to the action. Twinkling laughter filled the room as the small goblin finally regained his senses. A goofy grin appeared on Bait’s face as he stared at the love of his life. The love of his life that was still here, that was somehow alive. The love of his life that he thought he would never see again, let alone be able to hold. As gold and brown eyes stare into one another with unspoken adoration, a silent agreement was made. They would love one another for the rest of the days they were granted. And they would never be forced apart like that again, not if they could help it.

#gay love #dnd character #gay husbands #fluff #original character #BaitxWilliam #pirates #mlm #dnd ocs #dnd oc #men loving men #writing #original characters #reunion #all fluff #nothing but fluff

12 notes · View notes

silvercrystalwhump · 1 year

Text

Merry Christmas

Vince belongs to @ashintheairlikesnow

TW: None, just cooties

Vince originally planned to home the morning of Christmas eve. Yet, his car pulls into his garage Christmas night.

A 27 hour delay, one stop for a layover and second for an issue with security that had nothing to do with him. Vince wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and wake up in three years. Stepping out of his car, Vince reaches behind him and lazily drags his suitcase out. He rubs his eyes, stumbling for the door to his mudroom.

Vince reaches for the door and it swings open just as his fingertips brush the handle. Dmitri, leaning on the doorframe, nearly covers the doorway with his size alone. A merry, mischievous smile sits patiently on his face.

“Welcome home,” Dmitri hums, “Merry christmas, put your bags down I’ll get them later.”

"I'm so sorry Dmitri, I tried–"

Dmitri laughs and shushes him with a tender kiss on the forehead. "Don't be, flights around Christmas are always hectic and I went to Yasmin's like I usually do. The nieces were disappointed that you weren't there but I brought their presents for you with me."

Vince returns with an exhausted smile and lets go of the bags. "They got me presents?"

"Of course they did, Roxana loves gag gifts and probably got you as such," Dmitri shrugs, "Tiana… is the creative one. I don't have the slightest clue of what she got you."

Vince leans in on Dmitri's chest. Dmitri drapes his arm around Vince's waist and presses a warm kiss into his hair. His body heat seeping into Vince's tired bones.

“Do you trust me?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Vince gives a half-hearted chuckle as he looks up, “With what?”

Dmitri nods to himself, "Fair enough, do you trust me enough to lead you into your living room.”

Vince exhales and gives his own puff of a chuckle, “Why not.”

“Okay, close your eyes!”

He lets his eyes close and feels the worn-in callouses of Dmitri’s hand gently cover his eyes.

“Hey, I’m not looking!"

“I don’t want you to peek.”

Dmitri places his other hand on his shoulder and carefully pulls him forward. The walk from his garage to the living room feels longer than it should. Dmitri's hand shifts to his hip for a moment and pulls him gently over. Spinning him around, Dmitri removes his hand and shifts Vinces shoulders over.

"Open your eyes~"

Vinces blinks his eyes open and his breath catches in his lungs.

The living room is covered in decor. The Christmas tree, the one that had barely been touched before he left, is entangled in lights and garland. The half-wall splitting the living room from the boasted ropes of garland wrapped with tinsel. Lights wrap the room and his cabinets have their own garland with little ornaments clinging to the face leaves.

On his coffee table, a wreath encircles a few layered candles that flicker and wink at him. A handful of gently wrapped presents sit placental under the tree. The wrapping paper twinkles in the candlelight.

“You’d mentioned that you usually try to decorate but either are too busy or procrastinate until it's too late,” Dmitri says as he wraps his arms around Vince’s torso, “So I took it upon myself to spruce up the holidays for you.’

“I– wow– you–” Vince is at a loss for words. He had never, in the history of living in this house, seen this much decor for any holiday. Today, Christmas exploded in his home like a festive glitter bomb. “I love it.”

‘That’s not all.”

“What’s else–”

Dmitri glances up and Vince sees the mistletoe hanging above them. A cheeky smile blossoms across Dmitri's lips as he cocks an eyebrow.

Resting his arms on Dmitri’s shoulders, Vince leans in. “You are so cheesy, you know that right?”

“What can I say?” Dmitri laughs as he leans in, “Feelin’ the spirit of the season.”

Their lips press together, and some of the aches for the stupid long flight melt away.

#dmitri o'brian #dmitri loves vincent #vincent shield #christmas #surprise decor #adorable #all fluff #no angst

16 notes · View notes

devilry-revelry · 11 months

Text

Untitled - Male Orc x Female Human (Part 4)

OOPS I TRIPPED.

Not lemon, but maybe lemon zest?

Minors Do Not Interact

This marks the original concept/story for these two. First story was Riley worrying about stuff and things. Names may have changed since then. It's hard to remember. Ya know, because I deleted everything.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

“Fuck,” Arzok snickered. He sounded absolutely winded from all of the laughter. “I’m not just going to ram it in and hope for the best, Riley. I promise you, we’ll fit together just fine.”

Riley’s curiosity was a dirty little bitch; a needy insatiable little whore.

Four weeks, and seven dates had left Riley’s baser urges feeling frayed and restless. After their second date they had shared the first kiss, and had since enjoyed a bit of necking. It was during their last date when their kisses turned downright sinful. Sitting in the car outside of her apartment in the middle of the night, Arzok’s hand clasped around her throat, the other slipping up her skirt as his tongue dominated her mouth. He’d teased her for just a moment, thick fingers tracing a slow path over the cleft of her pussy before he completely withdrew and bid her goodnight. Riley had been a mess ever since then. Any attempts to ease the tension Arzok had created left her feeling bereft and wanting. His had been such a strong, and commanding presence. Fiddling around with her vibrator didn’t do her any favors.

And that’s where her dirty, dirty curiosity came in.

Riley couldn’t help but think that her and Arzok’s first time together would be coming up soon. They had discussed her staying at his place for a weekend. Planning was still tentative at best but it was something they talked about with increased frequency. Arzok lived a little over thirty minutes outside of town, and while he claimed that the commute wasn’t any trouble, they had both agreed that a relaxing weekend without all of the typical date-night run around would be a nice change of pace. That, of course, meant that Riley would be staying at Arzok’s house and, sure, she could sleep on the couch or in a spare room, but she probably wouldn’t. Sex or not. Because they were adults. And they were dating.

But those thoughts took a hard turn and she had been stuck with thinking about what she should expect were she to sleep with Arzok. He had mentioned that he was dominant and controlling, but what else should she anticipate? Arzok was big. Huge. He dwarfed her by nearly two feet and Riley was on the taller side of average. He was broad, and he was strong, but what about the rest? Short of just coming out and asking Arzok “hey, how big are orc dicks?” her only real avenue of getting that information was the internet.

And that’s where Riley’s curiosity turned into a dirty, insatiable, little tramp.

The initial search was a simple request on average sizes, but then a few videos showed up. The first video Riley stumbled into involved a beast of an orc, his height easily breaching the eight foot mark. He was paired with a petite, tiny little woman. The orc’s dick was bigger than Riley’s whole forearm, and while the pornstar took it like an absolute champion, Riley was aghast. It was porn so of course there were so many degrees of separation, but there was no way. No. Way. One video chased another in an effort to debunk the sudden theory that orc men were just obscenely massive in the pants department. Absolutely nothing was debunked. She’d even tried narrowing down her search, but it yielded no results. Instead, Riley had somehow ended up on orc-human BDSM play – and that was how Arzok’s phone call found her: stunned, horrified, whole-heartedly curious, and completely dejected.

Riley didn’t process the first ring. She was far too engrossed in what was going on on the screen. On the second ring, she had a whole body reaction like he just walked in the door and caught her personally. Riley yelped - actually yelped - and slapped at her keyboard to pause the video. Then she abandoned the laptop on her coffee table and retreated to her bedroom as if getting away from the laptop would hide the evidence of her insatiable curiosity. She even closed her bedroom door. Locked it.

“H-hi-llo–?” Hillo. Jesus. C’mon Riley.

“Hey, baby,” Arzok said. His voice was low, and sleepy-quiet. He had informed her earlier that day that he wouldn’t be getting home from a work-thing until late. Nearing midnight, he sounded absolutely knackered. The growling rasp that was always in his voice was more prominent with his fatigue. Riley couldn’t help but like the idea of hearing him sound like that in person, grumbling sleepy good mornings. “I was just calling to say goodnight.”

“I won’t keep you then,” Riley replied. Her voice matched the quiet pitch so as not to rouse him. “Did everything go okay, though?”

“Don’t know, and right now I’m too fucking tired to care,” he groused. Riley was able to pick up the teasing inflection of his words despite his bitter tone. “How about you? How was your night? What’re you still doing up?”

“Oh it was fine,” Riley replied quickly.

Arzok asked again, “What are you still doing up? You’re usually down for the count by now. Is everything okay?”

The heated flush that rushed into her cheeks felt as if her own body was trying to betray her. She moved away from the bedroom door to sit on the edge of her bed, then she flopped to her back. She hated that he was right. Riley was typically curled up, in bed, and on the verge of sleep by 9:30 most weeknights.

“Oh, everything is fine. I just… lost track of time.”

“Yeah? Doing what?”

His question didn’t feel as if he was prying. He sounded genuine in his interest. Riley worried her lower lip, wishing that she had curiously looked up videos on how to knit or crochet.

“Nothing. Just…” The idea of lying left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. So she skirted the details and addressed it in broad strokes. “I’ve just been thinking. It’s really nothing crazy though. But, hey, why don’t we both go to bed and we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“The fuck we will. What’s wrong, what happened? Is everything alright?” The sleepy timber of his voice was gone, and he now sounded wide awake, and bordering on frantic.

“It’s literally nothing to worry about. I promise–”

“Riley.”

“Fine just… Just don’t make fun of me, alright?”

“Never. Just talk to me, baby. You’re freaking me out. ‘I’ve been thinking’ sounds like a goddamn death sentence.”

Riley sucked in a slow breath, held it, and released. She tried to control the swell of stinging, hot, embarrassment. She had thought about it so much that it worried her, which drove her to the internet, which worried her more. The fact that she had thought about it enough that she was driven to consult the internet was so stupid–

“Riley, sweetling, come on.”

“Okay, okay.” She babbled, “You have to promise not to make fun of me though, alright?”

“I already said I wouldn’t. Look, if you don’t tell me I’ll drive over there and–”

“Whatifyoudon’tfit?”

“Fucking what?”

I said,” she heaved another heavy breath. “What if… you don’t… fit?”

Silence. Quiet, deafening, silence. Riley waited with baited breath, waiting for him to say something. Anything. It felt as if the quiet stretched on for an eternity before a hint of sound broke through. It was barely there. Muffled. There was a sound like a snort, and then another–

“Don’t you laugh at me, you monster!”

The laughter came through full force suddenly. It was loud, booming, jovial. Riley could imagine him; his head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut tight as he succumbed to it. Imagining him laughing made Riley’s mood darken. He was making fun of her, but he was beautiful when he laughed. The bastard.

“I–I’m not–I–” His efforts to calm himself only seemed to make the situation that much worse.

Riley sat up in bed, glaring daggers at her bedroom wall. “Hey, I’m serious!”

Arzok’s rolling laughter slipped into its decline, and eventually he said, “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re–you’re up this late worrying about whether or not my dick will fit–?”

“Yes!” Riley wailed. “I am! Look, I know it’s dumb, but I like you a lot. And if this whole thing doesn’t work out because you have a third arm–” Arzok cackled. “--then that’s really going to suck.”

Riley grumbled morosely through his reassurance, thoroughly embarrassed and ready to hide under her bed for the next century. She should have known better than to let her curiosity win. And on top of it, she sure as shit shouldn’t have been data collecting by watching pornography. Even if it was mostly accidental, once she started it was hard to look away and she fell down the rabbit hole.

“Sweetling,” Arzok growled. “When we are ready to take that step, I’m going to take pleasure in making sure you’re good and ready to take me.”

His voice cut her grumbles short, and she fell into surprised silence. She sucked in a quick breath, searched for a reply, and managed an airy and incredibly eloquent, “Oh.”

“And I’ll make damn sure that you enjoy every fucking second of it, baby.”

The low rasping purr of his voice was warming her in ways that the insane porn videos didn’t. This was for her. She crumbled back into the bed and let her eyes close as he spoke. She imagined lying beside him as he made his dark promises, and that familiar want that had been plaguing her began to flood her system.

“I’ve thought about you cumming on my tongue as I prepare you to take my cock. Would you like that?”

Riley shivered. The ache in her core assaulted her with no mercy. She could feel her pulse leap in her sex, and the sensations resonated through her body, making her toes curl.

“I asked you a question, Riley. You will answer me.” Arzok’s tone dipped lower still. It was suddenly threatening in a way that Riley liked far too much.

She pressed her thighs together, and hummed her agreement.

“No. You will answer me. Use your words.”

“Yes…” she whispered feebly, feeling more heat gather in the apples of her cheeks. The heat seemed like it was everywhere now, emphasizing her timidities, and fueling the fire he had created with just his voice.

“Good. Now stop worrying about this shit, you hear me?” The way the threatening rumble of his voice shifted into something entirely casual and bordering on playful smacked into Riley like a Mack truck. The spreading fire was doused with a bucket of water. Her eyes popped open to stare dumbfounded at the ceiling. “I don’t know who got into your head and told you we wouldn’t work, but we will. I can’t tell you how I know that, but I look at you and I can feel it in my goddamn chest. We’ll work. Promise me that you’ll give us a chance before you let someone convince you that we won’t. I–”

“It wasn’t anybody,” Riley said gently. She had initially been willing to let him ride with the assumption that an actual person had stirred up her concerns. Now she didn’t want him to think that she was willingly associating with someone who was trying to cause problems with their relationship. That wasn’t fair.

“Then what did it? Do I need to slow down? I will…”

“No,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “The only reason I was thinking about it is because I’m-I’m looking forward to it. But… Okay, you can’t make fun of me this time.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“I assure you, it is. No laughing.”

“No promises.” When she didn’t immediately reply, Arzok pushed onward. “Can you tell me so I’ll stop worrying about it?”

Riley rolled so she could suffocate herself with the pillows in the event that the humiliation proved to be too much.

“I watched porn, okay?” I watched dirty, filthy, orc-on-human porn and I regret it! Stop laughing–!” He did not stop laughing. “Alright. Well, I’m going to go walk into the ocean now. Goodnight!”

“Baby, what the fuck?” He was still coming off his most recent bout of laughter. “Wh-why?”

Riley shoved her face into her pillows, mumbling a muffled reply, “Can we stop talking about it?”

“I will never stop talking about it. Fucking wow.”

What a nightmare of a night. If she managed to get to sleep after all of this, she was going to wake up still embarrassed.

“I’m assuming I don’t need to explain why porn isn’t the most reliable source.”

A mumble of agreement.

“All of this worrying because some pornstar with a monstercock spooked you,” he said good naturedly.

“Stop.”

“Alright, alright. I’m done. No more orc porn though, got it?”

“Got it.”

They elapsed into silence, but it felt like Arzok was smiling like an idiot. Riley felt it in her heart. She glowered and mumbled about going to bed. He agreed, and she was almost completely certain she could hear him smiling.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Almost as soon as they hung up, her phone buzzed once, twice, three times. Three text messages. All from him. Two were images.

First there was a picture of his face. His torso was bare, his arm curled around a pillow as his dark eyes stared into the camera. His inky hair was splayed out over his big gorgeous shoulders and white sheets. Riley smiled, simply staring into his eyes for a moment.

The text read:

> Just so you can get an idea of what you’re working with.

The angle of the picture came from somewhere over his head. It started just at the bottom of his chin, and it went down, down, down over his splayed chest, his stomach, his waist, to the tops of his thighs where the sheet was precariously bunched. His green skin offered a stark, beautiful contrast against the pristine bedding. Basked in warm lamp light, the contours of muscle were highlighted from his pectorals, all the way down to the tantalizing V of his hips. One of his hands was resting over his navel, and she followed the strong musculature of his tattooed arm down, and up, and down again. Riley’s eyes caught on the smattering of dark hair that met the sheet.

That awful (wonderful) orc.

Another buzz. Another message.

> Sleep sweet, Riley.

[Part 5]

165 notes · View notes

kateandanthonyaremyparents · 2 years

Text

headcanon:

Anthony comes back from a meeting and sees his wife and kids from afar; they don't know he can see them. They're shopping for his birthday, he can connect the dots. Edmund carries Mary, Miles and Charlote joke about something, Kate laughs all the time. Ppl around him are talking how pretty and cute the four of them are. He feels blessed and gets a little emotional, turning fifty isn't such a bad thing anymore.. (okay it's Anthony, he's VERY emotional) Write this or not? Modern AU or Canon?

#oneshot???#eef writes #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #bridgerton #kathony #all fluff

19 notes · View notes

heatherstyles · 2 years

Text

for @klarolineauseason Week 2 - All Human. A follow up on Centerfold in which klaroline get older and realised they have been in love with each other since God knows when. I'm using You are in Love by Taylor Swift to narrate this story because it totally fits the best friend to lovers au and is one of my fav songs! Hope you guys like it<3

#heatherstyles moodboards #klaroline #taylor swift × klaroline #klarolineauseason #week 2 - All Human #you are in love #follow up on centerfold #klaroline best friends to lovers au #when the realisation hits #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #klaus x caroline #my hearttt #I love this song I just had to do it #this was sooo fun #all fluff #my moodboards

25 notes · View notes

bettielouwho · 2 years

Text

I was meant to sleep hours ago, but instead I have been reading a combination of fluffy Ed/Stede fics, and “all smut no plot” fics.

Help a girl out and send me your faves (or your own)

#blackbeard x stede #edward x stede #ofmd #our flag means gay #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ao3fic #fanfic #all fluff #no pain #fanfic rec

28 notes · View notes

leiawritesstories · 2 years

Note

Hey! So I’ve got an elorcan prompt I’ve been playing around with. So lorcans had a long day is tired and clingy and for once just wants to be looked after. So he tries cuddling elide and she’s a bit like who are u and what have u done with lorcan. So he starts whining and in the end elide gives up and just lets him cuddle her. He dose. On top of her. Like literally flat out on top of her (not crushing her though) and elides like aww my giant teddy bear :)

If u decide to do this please don’t rush! Also I love everything write it’s brilliant 🥰 happy late birthday by the way I hope u had an awesome day u deserve it ❤️

hello lovely anon! thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺 hope you have a wonderful day too 🥰

word count: 993

warnings: absolutely none

enjoy!

My Oaf

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Elide?" Lorcan's voice echoed through the house. "I'm home, baby!"

"Hey," Elide greeted her husband, her fuzzy socks muffling her footsteps as she padded into the entryway to greet him. "How was your day?"

"Long," he griped, bending down to kiss his wife. "Damn long."

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips, cupping her hands around his jaw. "Need anything?"

He sighed into her caress, draping his arms around her petite form, the foot-plus height difference between them not really working in his favor. "I'm hungry."

"We can fix that," she smiled, kissing his forehead before gently nudging him to stand upright. "Go ahead and shower, Lor. I'll have food when you're done."

"Can't I just eat you?" he whispered into her ear, sending a delicious shiver skittering down her spine.

"Later," she chuckled, giving him a little push. "Real food first, my love."

"Fine," he grumbled, pretending to pout as he kissed her once more before heading upstairs, shedding his suit coat and unbuttoning his collared shirt as he went. He barely paused to leave his work bag in the spare room they'd turned into an office before dropping his clothes on the master bedroom floor, a trail of discarded garments following him into the bathroom.

Which definitely would have looked incredibly suspicious to anyone who was not his wife.

He indulged in a longer shower than normal, allowing the hot water and steam to soak into his tired body and soothe his muscles--gods, he swore his damn job was giving him early-onset arthritis and muscle cramps. The mirror was fogged over with steam when he emerged, bringing a wry half-grin to his face, for he knew very well how he loved to tease Elide about the way her steaming-hot showers rendered the mirror useless. Toweling himself off, he pulled on boxers and sweatpants and an old t-shirt, craving comfort more than style. Besides, he was home, who else would be seeing him?

True to Elide's word, there was an array of deliciously mouthwatering scents floating from the kitchen when Lorcan entered, trudging over to the stove to wrap his arms around his five-foot-three wife from behind. At six-five, he was tall enough that her head settled neatly against his chest, making it a little awkward for him to rest his chin atop her head, but that hadn't stopped him yet.

"Hey, you," she chuckled, switching off the burner. "Right on time, love, everything's ready now."

"Must be the growing boy in me," he smirked.

Elide's nose crinkled as she laughed, the throaty sound filling the whole house. "You're incorrigible, husband of mine. I love you."

"Love you more," he returned, stealing a kiss.

"Stop that," she said, affectionately. "There's minestrone and bread, eat all you need."

"The way to my heart," he half-groaned, serving himself a generous bowl of the steaming hot soup the second she placed the pot atop the hot pad on the table.

"Feed a man and he'll stay with you forever, they said," Elide laughed, pouring him some water.

"They're right," Lorcan mumbled, practically inhaling the food. "Gods, this is good, El."

"Glad you like it." Her dark eyes softened as she passed him the ladle so he could have more soup.

He was completely full by the time he helped clear the dishes and load up the dishwasher, flopping onto their large sectional couch with a deep, contented groan. "C'mere, El," he requested, holding out his arms.

She chuckled as she came to him, settling herself on the couch by his side. "Need something, Lor?"

He draped himself atop her lap, widening his eyes. "I need you to hold me, love."

She huffed a laugh. "Babe, am I your pillow?"

"Yeah."

"You're gonna put my legs to sleep," she teased, stroking her fingers through his dark, damp hair.

He shrugged. "I've got ways to remedy that."

She stifled a wicked smirk. "And what if I want you to hold me, love?"

"Nooooo," he protested, shifting himself so he could loop his arms around her hips. "Hold me, babe."

She raised a dark brow. "First I'm your pillow and now you're pleading? Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy Lorcan, hmm?"

He stuck out his lower lip, the sight almost making her burst into giggles. Her massive grumpy husband, a pool of fake petulance and an insatiable need for cuddles. "Please hold me, El? Pleeeease?"

How could she resist him when he was that adorable? "All right, come here, you big oaf."

His grin was almost childish in magnitude. "Your oaf, my love."

"My oaf," she agreed, grinning at him. "I--oof!"

She hadn't expected him to half-tackle her into the couch, melting into her body like she was his own personal pillow, a sigh of pure contentment escaping him as he settled in, his head tucked into the crook of her shoulder. "Am I crushing you?" he asked, concern flickering in his onyx eyes.

"Not at all," she reassured him, skating her fingertips over the angled planes of his face, her soft touch gliding down to his shoulders as she looped her arms around her hulking husband. "Honestly, I kind of like having you draped all over me. You're like a teddy bear."

Lorcan raised a brow. "Teddy bear?"

Elide nodded. "A great big grumpy teddy bear."

He huffed a wry laugh, his eyes drifting closed. "Not an analogy you've used before, El."

"Fits," she shrugged, working her thumbs into the knots in his broad shoulders, massaging out the tension.

"Hrrmmmphhh." His incoherent mumble was agreement enough.

A soft, contented smile curled her lips as she held her massive hulking husband close, his weight and warmth atop her making her feel so safe, so protected. Within half an hour, he was out, his breathing deep and even and steady, his chest gently rising and falling against her.

Her grumpy teddy-bear oaf of a husband.

She wouldn't trade this for the whole entire world.

~~~ TAGS:

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@stardelia

@shanias-world

@mybloodrunsblue

@swankii-art-teacher

@wordsafterhours

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@violet-mermaid7

@holdthefrickup

@goddess-aelin

@rowaelinismyotp

@dealfea

@irondork

@elentiyawhitethorn

@live-the-fangirl-life

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@chronicchthonic14

@lovely-dove-zee

@sweet-but-stormy

@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

@rowaelinrambling

@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@backtobl4ck

@throneofus7

@elizarikaallen

@llyncooljones

@booknerdproblems

#my writing #answered prompt #elorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elide x lorcan #elorcan fanfiction #all fluff #ps this wasn't rushed :)#it sat in my drafts for a while #lovely anon

124 notes · View notes