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#heacanon
elitadream · 5 months
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When words fail, get stuck and become painful, a simple gesture and a glance can speak volumes. ❤
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Shoutout to @mrspockify for taking the concept of selectively mute Mario and propelling it into the stratosphere. Their AU now lives rent free inside my head. 🥺🙏
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stevesbipanic · 1 year
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I like to think Lucas clocked Steve and Eddie dating first because that sweet boy is a hopeless romantic and he would've seen those two being gooey with each other so quick.
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bishopony · 9 months
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Rarity Belle <3
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A couple of thoughts after re-watching TGM
What I think is actually canon
Amelia is Mav’s daughter (Penny hints at that when she’s talking to Mav about her) but Amelia doesn't know
Mav considers himself to be Bradley’s dad (Mav answers when Bradley asks his dad what to do) 
Bradley considers both Goose and Mav to be his dad (after Mav says that Bradley saved his life, Bradley says that his dad would've done the same - considering the fact that Mav has already saved Bradley's life you could see that as Bradley seeing Mav as his dad, too) 
Bradley has lived with Mav for a considerable period of time (Mav says to Penny he tried his best to be a father for Bradley) 
Thoughts concerning TG3 / Predictions 
I think they gonna set up Phoenix as Bradley's love interest because they seem very close in the movie (but for me they’re more like besties) 
I hope they gonna keep the character's of Warlock and Cyclone (with Cyclone basically hating Mav and Warlock secretly supporting the shit Mav does all the time) and also they need to keep at least Warlock because somebody needs to prevent that Mav is thrown out of the Navy
I hope there still will be references to Ice (I just love him and he needs to be mentioned) 
Other thoughts 
I actually paid attention to the hangster dynamics for the first time
Jake’s and Bradley’s first hook up is right after dogfight football
Bradley is Ice-coded while Jake is Mav-coded 
I ship bobnix now (I think Nat and Bob are very sweet together in the movie - need to find some fluffy fics about them)
The lifelong friendship between Ice and Mav just kills me (solely sticking to the movie here because otherwise icemav is endgame imo), like Ice basically knows everything about Mav (every shit he has done at work, everything around him pulling Bradley's papers, private problems he’s had etc.) and also the other way round (Mav supporting him during his battle with cancer and a whole lot of other things which we don't know because sadly Ice is only a minor character in both movies) 
I love that Mav refers to Ice in the whole movie only by his nickname
I had to keep myself very hard from crying during the funeral scene (if I had watched it alone, I probably would’ve cried) 
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ziggystardustyy · 2 months
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Wolfstar and jegulus have joint movie nights where remus and regulus always insist on watching a horror movie and james and sirius scream at every jumpscare and have to hide their faces behind cushions while remus and regulus laugh at them
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fyeahnix · 9 months
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Dogsong | Sevika/Reader Explicit 10.6k F/F CW: breathplay, mild daddy kink, lesbian smut, no y/n use AO3 (read here for correct texting format)
High-energy evenings in Zaun melted down and metamorphosed into bustling and boisterous nights. Laborers swarmed from their day jobs tired and grumbling, eager to shake off the stench of a hard day's work with an even harder pint of hooch. The last rays of sunshine retired beneath the horizon; neon streaked the Lanes, picking up the slack where natural light abandoned its role. Buskers and ruffians bathed in magenta and mint hustled blue collar workers and businessmen alike. Black market vendors screamed over drummers to fence their hottest products before closing. Jericho's food stall was packed to the brim with Zaunites of every race imaginable starving for their last meal of the day. But The Last Drop? Closed for the night.
The bar-turned-nightclub was the landmark halfway point in your designated path home from work. The chartreuse lights blinked on one by one as the giant drew close to opening every night. Once the last light flickered on, the club was open to scrounge every last cog out of its dedicated patrons. Tonight, the cyclops slept. No lights and no patrons lined up around the corner waiting for the doors to open. The owner was preoccupied with more pressing matters this Friday evening.
How did you know that? The same reason your evening walk home was as peaceful as they came, even around the shadiest crevices of the Lanes. You'd witnessed muggings and assaults before, dodged solicitors and chem-stunted drug dealers seeking to become your next plug. Zaun's infamous crime lord, Silco, ruled with a more notorious underboss as his right hand—your girlfriend, Sevika. And your relationship with her had its perks. She made doubly sure that your usual trek home was safeguarded by her underlings hidden in plain sight. A watchful weapons salesman here, a nodding thug there. "Zaun royalty" was as close a descriptor as anything else.
When you entered your condo on Zaun’s Promenade level, you knew Sevika had only left recently. Wisps of cedarwood cologne clung to the foyer and living room and trailed back into the bedroom. Last year's name day gift to her—a custom, earthy note mastercrafted from Renata Glasc herself. You were thankful for the connection since you'd had next to no experience with fragrances on your own. Still, as infrequently as she sprayed the unique, luxurious scent, it left you yearning for her all the same.
An important business dinner whisked her away tonight. Normally, you were invited to events as her plus one, and her boss, Silco, would regard you with a gentle cant of his head. Tonight? The final stages of new business dealings—no outsiders allowed. Fair enough.
You still pouted at her yesterday when she had relayed the news. Sevika wasn’t immune to your perfected puppy-dog eyes, a skill you picked up from the very hounds you bred and trained in your profession. She placated you with a kiss on the forehead and the promise of dinner at one of Zaun’s finest establishments tomorrow night. At least you had that to look forward to after a long week and barely any time alone with her.
Sevika had left her discarded clothing and towels scattered from the bedroom to the bathroom, and you rolled your eyes at once again having to remind her to pick her shit up. A quick scolding text would suffice, but you decided against it. She probably left in a hurry again, and she wouldn't answer anyway. Rarely had the opportunity when discussing business.
Under steaming water, you showered, scrubbed away any lingering dog fur and hidden slobber. The relief was instant and welcome, but as water pounded your face and neck, you found yourself missing a pair of hands on you. You didn’t shower together often; between your schedules and Sevika’s disdain for hot showers, there wasn’t much opportunity. Friday was your dedicated time together in preparation to spend most of the night at The Last Drop. And Janna, did she know how to use her hands during that time.
Where would she have ventured tonight? What winding road would she have traveled? Which muscles would she have massaged first? Back, traps, deltoid? How far down would she have dragged her lips? You shivered at ghostly memories caressing your neck, your shoulders and hips. Arched into the imaginary fingertips under your breasts and across your ribs. Held still at the phantom hand nestled between your thighs—
But it was far, far too early to get carried away. She'd be back before the twenty-second bell, right?
Out of the shower, you stole a shirt from Sevika's armoire and paired it with your own underwear. Your shared bed was a mess of cream sheets and burgundy blankets that neither of you had time to straighten. You didn't mind the mess as much when you flopped onto the bed and snuggled into Sevika’s pillow. Her lingering scent, smoke and spice, rose proper butterflies in your belly. And with those butterflies, memories of your first encounter fluttered back.
You had met over two years ago. Ungrateful new owners and teething puppies made your week worse than hell, and that pushed you to craving a drink or five at the first watering hole you laid your eyes on. The Last Drop loomed in the distance with a "Grand Reopening" sign, so you shrugged and took your place in line.
New ownership—a middle-aged man with a timid adoptive daughter he doted on—had seized control after the previous owner's mysterious disappearance and death. The heady club atmosphere didn't match his gaunt, professional demeanor. The homely vibe was rendered extinct, usurped with neon and black lights. Exotic dancers shared a newly-built stage with underground indie rock bands, entertaining patrons drifting under the influence of a new street drug called "shimmer."
You'd taken solace at the end of the bar—ordered and enjoyed your first shot of vodka, no chaser, to wash down the anger and frustration. The squirrelly bartender eyed you closely when you quickly waved for a second shot. You were a lightweight and it took no time for the alcohol to kick in. You rimmed the second glass as a reminder to pace yourself.
The crowd and bass had been deafening. Pool balls cracked behind you in a rowdy game of nine-ball. Players swore and roared insults across the table over a heated poker game in the distance. Your guard lowered, easily lost in the music and bluster.
A piscine Vestayan male had approached you and leaned against the bar in your personal bubble. Glanced you up and down, licking his chops and flicking his barbels. Asked how your day was. You initially clocked him as bad news and hindsight confirmed that.
Short answers didn't cut it for him. Neither had telling him to go fuck his mother sideways with a rusty axe. His webbed, moist fingers landed on your shoulder, and when you jerked away and attempted to stand, they wrapped your upper arm. The strength in his grip was herculean, and you immediately regretted even venturing out for the night.
You had broken his hold enough to attempt an escape but bumped into someone solid behind you. A tall and dark-skinned woman with a strong nose and full lips had inserted herself between you. She took a final swig of her drink, then set it on the bar like it was a piece of fine antique glassware. Glanced the guy up and down before tilting up her chin.
The music had drowned most voices out, but you heard her rumble clear as day. "Is there a problem here?"
The guy's barbels flickered again. He released your arm, shook his head, and slinked off like the plague rat he really was. No argument, no fight, no challenge.
Before you'd taken the second shot, she stopped you and asked to buy you a drink instead. You scowled until she mentioned the drink had been spiked when your attention was diverted. One furtive glance, and the bartender immediately discarded it without a word. The entire ordeal made you want to leave and sulk in your bedroom for the rest of the night.
Sevika, as she had introduced herself, was persistent in a way unlike the asshole from before. She didn't press the drink more than once but sat with you for over three hours at the bar and chatted you up until you released the tension in your shoulders and jaw. Growing up in Zaun accustomed you to a certain flavor of brusque speech but never with the level of humor Sevika peppered in.
As the night carried on without issue and you planned to leave, she had offered to walk you home. You hesitated until you realized how much bigger and taller she was than other patrons in the club. There was no telling who you'd run into on the way back home, so you did what you thought was best and accepted the offer.
Vague conversation had colored the walk home. Your apartment at the time was over a mile away from the club, so you were thankful for the company in the dead of night. Sevika strolled a safe distance from you, never invaded your personal space, nor did she seek anything in return. She was, however, persistent.
"Drink offer's still open if you're interested."
You'd told her you'd consider it.
The smirk she'd given you was telling, like she already knew the answer you'd give. She fished an unfinished joint from a tin in her pocket.
Inhaled.
Exhaled plumes through the nose.
"The bartender, Thieram? Ask for me if you're ever at the Drop again. I'm there most nights."
"Most nights? Why so often?"
She'd laughed, drawing your blush at what you assumed was a rather stupid question.
"Guess you'll have to find out."
She'd taken a final drag, flicked the roach into the pavement across the way, and wished you good night.
You'd taken up her offer the next night.
It wasn’t extravagant or any novel-esque version of a meet-cute. A bad week at work and a pushy asshole brought you together purely by chance. Sevika didn't tolerate harassment in her club, and she thought you looked pissed off enough to strangle a gigalodon. Had plenty of bark between your teeth, she said, but lacked the bite to back it up.
And she was absolutely smitten with it.
You hugged Sevika's pillow closer, memories drifting as a Piltie drama slurred in the background.
Bzzt, bzzt!
Your phone stirred you out of nodding off. You unlocked it and checked the notifications. Sevika?
Should have smoked before this shit…
Poor baby. Dinner must have been stale. You typed up a response.
that bad?
It's bad. Fucking piltie. Won't stop bragging about his summer home and horse stables in the countryside…
ugh, another, seriously?
Good for business. Unfortunately…
details?
Sevika's responses were quick. You imagined her resting her chin on her bronze fist, right hand typing away under the table as a haughty socialite bored the group. You couldn't picture Chross having any patience for such gloating bullshit. And Smeech? Likely snapping his jaws and stroking his short beard.
You mean besides his apparent connections to Demacia? Nah. Don't have em all yet, go fucking figure. I might fall asleep at this rate…
I'll keep you company bear~
What would I do without you?
oh I dunno, I could prob list about 17 things…
Shut up lol
Sevika's following texts staggered in. Bouts of instant messages would follow minutes-long periods of utter silence. The updates for the meeting proved to be entertaining at the very least. Silco sat unamused. Renata picked at her nails while Eramis picked at his food. The new dealer droned on about the partnerships he garnered topside and how much wealth and prosperity he could provide Zaun. The man had his head crammed up his own ass, Sevika said, but Silco at least straightened in his seat once talks of shimmer exchanges with Demacian black markets commenced.
Despite the spicy entertainment, boredom set in for you as well. There was nothing else on TV save for the usual Friday night drama or movie. Any friends you had were more than likely busy with their usual weekly activities, as you would have been. You stared at your phone, hoping and willing for a text from Sevika to come in after your last response. None did.
Still, you could garner her attention. She may be stoic and gruff oftentimes, but she'd raise an eyebrow at a few salacious words, two if you were lucky. Why not roll the dice?
Vikaaa… how much longer? really been missing your hands all day
It was a start, and you buried yourself deeper into your blankets eager for a response. Sevika didn't enjoy texting much. It was tedious for her, too slow and monotonous where a simple phone call would suffice. Not to mention, she could only text with one hand. While she'd past gotten accustomed to gauging the grip strength of her metal prosthetic, her fingers proved a different challenge altogether. "Claws" were more accurate as she'd unintentionally gouged at least three phone screens by now. If not for you, she wouldn't text at all. You were grateful she'd made an exception for your disdain of most phone calls.
Still, the wait was agonizing. Minutes sailed by and you drifted before the indicator danced on Sevika's side of the conversation.
Yeah? Funny. I was just thinking about wrapping my hand around that pretty little neck of yours. Squeeze just a bit so I can hear you struggle to breathe.
Sevika may not have enjoyed texting, but she certainly wasn't terrible at it. You grazed your neck right where she would normally place her hand. Yours wasn't big enough.
dont you wanna hear me choke on your fingers instead?
You wet your lips thinking about Sevika's fingers exploring your mouth. Brushing your lower lip, stroking your tongue. You crossed one leg over the over, smashing your thighs together as Sevika's response came in.
Careful, sweetheart. Keep talking like that and I'll have you choke on my dick.
Would that have been so bad? You didn't think so.
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me where you want my hands first.
You swallowed hard. Playing hardball already only to dangle it over your head like a carrot. If that didn't say much about Sevika, you didn't know what else did. But fine, you could deal for now.
everywhere fucking everywhere. want your hands down my back, squeezing my throat, my tits, my ass, janna, I really want you playing with my tits right now
Your thoughts soared as wildly as a cliff-shrike’s first flight. Sevika's caress was calculated. She knew where to glide her hands to make you sing, where to prod her claws to make you growl. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't emulate her precision and poise. And her size? Out of the question. Your feeble attempt now was another failure for the books. A pinch at your nipple and clit coaxed a moan from you, but you still heard Sevika's usual croon of "patience" in the back of your mind.
Hadn't you been patient enough? You'd been waiting all day, hell, all week, and dragging your thumb over your clit for an ounce of relief grinded your nerves to ash. You huffed. If you had to suffer, then so did Sevika; it was only fair. You gathered your bearings enough to type a follow-up.
and your fingers? fuck I'm getting so wet thinking about them. want em in and around my mouth, pinching my nipples, buried in my cunt…
You set the phone down and breathed deeply. You wanted to do more, tease more, show Sevika what she was missing being away right now. You bit your bottom lip as you contemplated. Sevika would never say no to any selfies of you, even if they were sent at the most inopportune moments. Hell, if anything, they'd rile her up even more. Couple that with the danger of opening them around prying eyes, and you had a recipe for disaster.
You tugged your underwear down your hips and rested them at mid-thigh, exposing yourself to cool air and crisp sheets. From memory, you mimicked where Sevika would glide her hands in habitual order: jaw, sternum, hips, ribs, breasts. Between your thighs, a gentle tease, before running one finger right up your slit.
A sigh crept from your lungs.
You grabbed your phone—Sevika still hadn’t texted you—and snapped a quick photo of yourself. Your lower half, hand buried beneath a mound of hair, right on display. With minimal internal debate, you shifted positions for a second and caught your full-length mirror in your periphery. Perfect. With some adjusting, you knelt, bent over face down, and snapped a photo of your cunt and ass up on full display. Not at all an unfamiliar position. Satisfied, you shuttled them off into the void with a message:
missing you
It took no time at all before you saw the texting indicator bounce once more. Sevika's response, however, was delayed. She texted, then stopped and repeated the pattern three more times. What stole her attention so suddenly? A new proposition? A conversational shift? Maybe a nosy chem-baron spying over her shoulder?
At long last, her response dropped in and the corner of your lip lifted.
fuck
…Or she was speechless. That worked too.
Pride puffed your chest. With any luck, you'd rile Sevika up so much that she'd have no choice but to fold you into the compromising positionings you photographed yourself in. It wasn't the first time you tested the waters with an exhibitionist stunt like that. Certainly wouldn't be the last.
You'd often hung out with Sevika at The Last Drop on Friday nights. Amateur poker players—who were much too busy coveting what wasn’t theirs to keep their cog purses from drying up—dared to ogle you as you sat perched on her lap. You stared and winked at the spineless ones all while murmuring sweet nothings in your girlfriend's ear. They'd tug at their collars, lick cracked lips, swish their ragged tails like they had any chance in hell. Tunnel vision prevented them from gawking at your little grinds on Sevika's thigh. That or she glared daggers at them when you did. She was never bothered, only playfully whispered for you to knock it off in a voice so husky that you didn't mind the threat to pay you back in her private office upstairs.
Your phone vibrated right before you aimed to toss it across the bed. While you expected another text, a quick glance at the screen flashed Sevika's name with a heart next to it.
A phone call? Now?
You answered. "Didn't think you could talk right now, bear."
"You're a fuckin' menace, you know that?" she drawled, halfway between a growl and purr.
If only she could see you humorously twirling a lock of hair at that.
"Know who almost saw that? Take a guess."
You scrunched your nose. "Chross?" Gross.
"Nope."
"Please not Silco…" You didn't think you could face that man again if he ever saw those images. It was a dangerous game you played, sure, but anyone but him.
Her silence spoke volumes and your stomach dropped at least fifty feet. Of all the people…
"...Sev, I'm serious."
Sevika snickered. "I'm fuckin' with you. Nah, not Silco. Glasc."
Renata? That was more than a relief. Still, she'd throw you a sly glance across a dinner table the next time you saw her, but she wouldn't judge you for it. You may have only been acquaintances, but she was more than open about the certain… souvenirs she claimed from her own sexual escapades.
"Came at the perfect time. Needed a break and a smoke." On cue, you heard the crackle of embers from Sevika's inhale. "But don't think I didn't have anything for you. Check your messages."
You pulled away from your phone to do just that. She had—two images—and excitement trilled up your spine as you gaped at them.
Sevika took them in a restroom that was nearly as nice as the basic ones you'd seen topside. Soft lighting highlighted her dusky, brown skin well, accentuating a strong jawline and the sharp bridge of a once-broken nose. Jet-black hair was fashioned into its usual top knot with a few loose strands framing her face. The lower half brushed her shoulders and warned of an upcoming haircut. The black button-up she wore was crisp and tailored, one sleeve missing to accommodate her bronze arm, the other rolled up to her elbow to flaunt corded muscle in her forearm. The first button on the shirt remained unbuttoned, and you licked your lips at the tease of skin leading down her chest. Your eyes followed and you took note of the simple elegance of the dark brown waistcoat protecting her broad, muscular chest. Her gaze fixated on the phone carefully cradled in her claws.
You swallowed hard at the next image as another long drag crackled in your ear.
The hand clutching the phone hadn't moved, but Sevika's attention did. Light wolf-grey eyes bore holes in the mirror. Where her free hand had been jammed in her pocket previously, now it was thrust into the front of her undone black chinos. Unbuckled, unbuttoned, unzipped. Free from the confines, she displayed the gunmetal grey boxer briefs proudly. And with that display came the delicious glimpse of brown skin and trail of dark hair that snuck into her underwear.
Sevika was unbelievably handsome—suited up, naked, or any state of undress in-between.
The cherry on top? She was packing. The slight bulge in her underwear commanded your attention, made you salivate. Janna only knew you wanted to grind your ass against that. Or maybe worship with your lips.
"Don't get quiet now. You had so much to say earlier. What was it? You wanted my fingers in and around your mouth?"
A "yes" slipped between your lips like a snake's slither and so did your hand slither between your thighs again. Your eyes fluttered closed.
"Wanted them sheathed in that fucking pussy?"
You choked out a moan. A barely noticeable hitch in Sevika's breath coaxed a tug at the corner of your lip.
"Answer me," Sevika said, voice hardening.
You scrambled to find your own voice as you rolled your hips and lifted one leg. "Mhmm…" you started, attempting a pathetic nod Sevika would never see. "Want 'em deep. So fuckin’ deep."
Sevika sighed deeply. "Baby?"
The way her voice lilted forced your eyes open.
"I want you to stop touching 'til I get home. Can you do that for me?"
Like the hounds you trained daily, your ears perked. You'd grown accustomed to the intention and inflection in her voice and even caught the hint of a smirk at the end. Despite the honey dripping off her words, it was a command, no mistaking it. And though it coaxed a strained whine from your throat, no command she made ever came without buildup towards a worthy payoff. Sevika rewarded patience, after all.
Your words caught in your throat, but you pushed through. “Yes…”
“Yes, what?”
A quick smile broke through. So that's how she wanted to proceed? Considering the long week, you'd definitely play along. Your chest heaved and breath hitched before you spoke the words that served as a verbal handshake to start your "game."
“Yes, Daddy…”
The quick laugh that followed was broken—deep, breathy, a growl of triumph. Shifting fabric crinkled in your ear with a sharp inhale following suit. “That’s my good girl.”
And while you longed for a follow-up to her praise, you received nothing but silence in return. Sevika’s breath still lingered with the occasional drag of her joint. But there was nothing else you could perceive.
…Until you listened closely. Sevika was experienced, a master of controlling her own body. You’d seen as much when she threw rear hooks at the punching bag in your spare room or armlocked sparring partners at the gym. Years of boxing and mixed martial arts trained her to a level of discipline you only coveted. Breath control came to her easily. Well, normally, it did. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” was what she taught you, but her breaths now contradicted her advice. Shaky, uneven, so subtle that she may have been trying to hide it.
And then it clicked.
You tightened your grip on your phone, then released it to trap it between your ear and the bed. You lay there, paralyzed under the fear that if you breathed the wrong way or uttered a word that she’d stop. You shut your eyes and listened. It was a private show in your mind’s eye—Sevika with her hand jammed in her boxers, undulating her touch between her folds, abs flexing with every jerk. Lips parted, the small and cute gap between her front teeth peeking through. Attention focused on nowhere but her own actions.
And you couldn’t do a single thing.
You clamped your thighs together, moist from your slick. No touching… Now it was evident why she voiced the command.
Every Zaunite swear rolled past her lips as she lost herself in her ministrations, and you couldn't help but let a pathetic sigh escape yours.
Sevika shifted and the sudden sound of her belt clinking against the counter startled you. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you on your knees right now.”
Straight to the point. Straight to your cunt.
“Have you look up at me with those pretty eyes. And that pretty fucking mouth.”
There were more than a few occasions that you both had slipped away for a few precious  moments during a business dinner. Lips met tongue met neck. Knees deadened in genuflection on carpet or hard marble, primed for worship. Sevika's breath hot in your ear that she’d forgotten what you tasted like and needed a reminder. If you had attended tonight, you'd bet your life savings you'd have had your face stuffed between her legs as you stared up at her with stars in your eyes.
“You better not be touching right now,” she warned playfully.
“‘M not…” you whispered back. It was hard. So fucking hard to keep your hands balled into the sheets instead buried in your cunt. Patience, a waiting game, and you relaxed as you grew tired and started to drift. “Not touchin’.”
Sevika let a strained groan rip from her chest. She was finished, and the jingle of her belt confirmed as much. As she came down from her high, she inhaled deeply. “What I wouldn’t give… to have you clean me up right now.” Her words echoed twice in your head as your world went black. You would clean her, tongue only, licking up every stray drip of slick that rolled down her muscular thighs. Silence festered between you for a spell, allowing you to delve deeper into the thought until she spoke once more. “Gotta head back. See you when I get home, cariño.”
You drifted into the abyss, your declaration of love dying on your tongue as the call ended.
------
The front door's lock clicked in the distance, and the instinctual bout of anxiety burned away as you realized what it was. Not an intruder, but your girlfriend returning from her business dinner at… first bell? Fuck, she was late. Memories of her earlier words quickly stamped out any surfacing annoyance.
Sevika shut the door and locked it, kicked off her boots, and threw her keys and something else onto the kitchen counter. Despite her size, she ambled silently through the condo, and it was only her usual sigh of relief that allowed you to track her movements to the bathroom. She used the sink, likely washing her hands and face before letting out another exhale that was muffled through a towel. The same routine you committed to memory through a sleepy haze for months prior. The same routine that ended when she finally poked her head into your bedroom.
Her eyes darted between you and the TV before she raised a brow.
"Thought you'd be asleep by now," she said.
"Is that why you told me 'no more touching'?"
Sevika approached and sat on the edge of the bed to hover over you, trapping you between her hands.
"Wasn't expecting it to be that long, baby. Dinner went over an’ our debrief at the Drop took longer than usual too." You scrunched your face in mock annoyance as she leaned in and settled at your collar. "But… I'm here now. So lemme make it up to you."
Sweet citrus undertones intermingled with herbal cigar and her own natural, smoky scent. Memories of your late-night parting kisses outside your old apartment wafted back like pleasant dreams. For a few precious seconds, you shut your eyes, craning your neck to submit to her. And just like old times, you trailed your fingers at her waist before raking your nails up her spine, drinking in the guttural groan at your collar.
Sevika kissed a pathway up your neck and along your jawline before she pulled away just enough to leave her own lips out of reach. Even through the soft, amber ambiance of the room's light, her eyes sparkled with genuine interest. The arcane scars on her left cheek glittered, silky under your fingertips.
"Hi, sweetheart," she said.
A sweet smile tugged at your lips. "Hi, bear."
Sevika closed the distance. Your foreheads knocked, breath mingled, and before her beautiful, dark lips could capture yours in a kiss, you halted her advance with a single finger.
"Uh uh. I know you saw that mess you left out when you came in…"
She sighed, shut her eyes at your light scolding.
"...so please. Pick your shit up and then maybe I'll keep playing with you."
When you let go and she opened her eyes again, her face twisted in half-amusement and half-apology, a cute and unguarded expression she reserved only for you. The twitch in her lips revealed her desire to retort, but ultimately she conceded.
"’M sorry. Woke up late, was in a rush."
"Baby, I told you I was working later today and wouldn't be able to wake you up. Some of the pups are having teething and potty issues this week."
"I know, I know," she murmured against your lips. "Slept through three of my alarms. I'll pick it up. All of it."
"You fucking better," you said, teasing her lips with yours before you steal a kiss. She wasn't caught off guard in the slightest. In fact, she was ready for it, leaned into it with all the bravado of someone who missed a long lost love. When you had your fill, you pulled away with her bottom lip in tow. "Now, stop stalling."
Sevika grumbled in protest. She pecked the corner of your mouth before retreating and snatching the first articles of her discarded outfit from the bedroom floor. The action was entirely juvenile, not at all indicative of the type of person Sevika presented publicly, but well within the line of her subtle humor you grew to love.
Regardless of said task, you couldn't help but break out a smile as you followed her out of the bedroom and into the hallway, a flighty bounce in every step. You tried to hide it as she glowered at you.
With her dirty boxer briefs in hand, she finally spoke. "The hell you smilin’ about?"
"Just find it funny," you said, circling her. "How much you harp on me about being patient. And yet… here you are, having to wait yourself."
Sevika clearly didn't find the predicament humorous. With an upturned brow, she flung her boxers at your face. You didn't have time to react and your head became a makeshift hamper. She choked out a laugh as you tore them off and threw them back at her.
You tailed her through the condo as she picked up her discarded nightwear and towels and tossed them in the hamper. The final destination was your bathroom and you leaned against your sink, biting your lip, suddenly drawn into Sevika’s chosen outfit for the occasion.
“What?” she said. “See somethin’ you like?”
Quite an understatement.
Photos didn’t do her justice. You couldn't help but rove your eyes over her. Her shirt and pants accentuated her toned musculature in a way that made you lick your lips. The getup fit her well, looked comfortable, and even masked her usual disdain for dressing up to “kiss businessman ass.”
You’d once made an offhand comment about how great she’d look in a vest. Her effort clearly didn’t disappoint. For someone who hated dressing up? Damn, did she exceed expectations.
Sevika rolled her eyes and motioned to undress herself. You caught her wrist in yours. Laced your fingers and squeezed as you lowered them both. She raised a brow, eyes searching yours. She was so eager to rid herself of her clothes, but you couldn’t bear letting her tear herself out of them so hastily.
Not so soon.
Not yet.
"Let me?"
She canted her chin. Studied you.
You released her hand and mapped out a path with deft fingers. Up her right thigh, ghosting over her zipper to her hip, relishing the flare of her nostrils. The bathroom light twinkled off the waistcoat's buttons as you ascended over them, each resounding with a simple tap when you flicked them. You traced the visible shirt buttons upwards, stopping at her sternum where it flared open. Beautiful brown skin starred with small freckles and moles gave way where you pressed. You glided over her neck, felt her throat bob when she swallowed. The scar on her left cheek shimmered under your touch, silky aqua and turquoise marbling that guided you back down her jaw and neck. Back to the second button on her shirt to finally undo it.
You looped the button through its hoop and more of Sevika's skin became available for you to dusk your lips over. Her audible exhale drove you further as you released the third. More skin, more area to cover with gentle and practiced kisses. If you could cover every inch of her chest, you would. Stain her, mark her, claim her with the most seductive shade of lipstick you owned. A rich burgundy that matched her favorite poncho would suffice, wouldn't it?
While you kept your mouth busy at her chest, you released every button on her shirt and waistcoat. As much as you desired to roll them off her shoulders, you kept them on, admiring how they framed her over her dark sports bra. You scored down her taut abs with your nails until you found and fiddled with her belt. A bit of handiwork made releasing it trivial, and it clinked beneath you both as you left it undone to fumble for the button at her pants. Unbuttoned and unzipped, her pants lay open and free for you to graze fingertips at the waistband of her boxer briefs. You glanced down. A subtle bulge hidden beneath dark grey.
A cold, metal hand teased your waist, found purchase at the small of your back, spurring you on. From her waistband, your touch rose up her lower abs, pressed against them to coax the slight give and jerk of her muscles. She was solid underneath you, honed and sculpted like an athlete carved out of Pentelic marble. You rebuffed any muttered insult of her being a brute. She wasn't, far from it. Mixed martial arts and boxing kept her in shape, but her intimidating size and strength only belied her gentleness with you behind closed doors. Besides, would a brute have enough patience and self-control to handle the pressure of being Silco's right hand? The weight of being heir to the metaphorical throne?
Sevika flicked her tongue over the corner of her top lip when you feathered the dark hair that vanished into her boxers. Your final descent brushed over that trail, crept over the bulge at the apex of her thighs. The metal hand at your back pulled you closer. Sevika lowered her head to rest at your shoulder and you caught the tail end of a guttural groan at your ministrations.
She inhaled. Deeply. Her lips latched to the juncture of your jaw and neck. Her rumble deepened, hips angled into your touch.
"Cariño…"
It was your turn to smile. You knew where to touch and prod, the correct tempo and intensity to render Sevika putty in your hands. She melted when you tugged at silky, black hair. Let her lips part and drag across your cheek until they met with yours. It was cute how hard she tried to reel it in and keep her control, how hard she tried to stifle the jerk of her hips. You congratulated yourself for the effort… until she spoke against your lips to render your work undone.
"Turn around for me?"
Tone relayed the intended message. It sent a shiver crackling up your spine that halted your movements. Surprise quickly morphed into latent arousal. Why keep her waiting when you could smell the direction this was turning?
Her grip loosened enough for you to adjust yourself. You turned, slowly, and faced the mirror to watch her rise to her full height behind you. Sevika held several inches over most human men in Zaun and a full head over you. The toughest men who frequented The Last Drop tucked their tails at her size and strength. With you? She was as harmless and cuddly as a teddy bear. And she proved as much when she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed for good measure.
She buried her nose into the crook of your neck and shoulder, planted open-mouthed kisses up the side of your neck and into your jawline. In pure Sevika fashion, she tipped your jaw to give herself more access to the column of your throat. You couldn't help the giggles that fell from your lips, and she followed suit with a few chuckles of her own.
Any words you would have spoken were lost in a whispered sigh as she nuzzled right against your ear and spoke. "Been missin’ you all night."
And your heart somersaulted out of its cage.
Your eyes caught Sevika's in the mirror—predatory, wolf-like—irises pushed to the edges by pupils blown wide. She stared back at you. Mischief brewed underneath as the corner of her mouth tweaked upwards. She pulled you in closer, ran her full lips up the nape of your neck.
"Tell me again where you want my hands, beautiful."
Fuck, her voice. Like a growl soaked in arousal. You shifted, aiming to turn around but she kept you in place. All you wanted was to steal her breath from her lungs, make her speak those words again into your mouth. Consume every consonant and vowel as sustenance.
Her hands roamed and if you didn't give her an answer, she'd probably decide for you. So, you dredged up your earlier conversation and relayed it back to her.
"My… my mouth."
"Yeah?"
You nodded pathetically. She obliged.
Her left arm stayed wrapped around your waist. She brought her right hand up to lift your chin. Examined you in the mirror, turned your head this way and that like she was contemplating what to do with you. Finally, she tutted and smiled.
"Such a pretty girl." She thumbed your bottom lip and you flicked your tongue out to graze it. She didn't mind in the slightest, even encouraged it by dipping in to brush the inside of your lip. When you wrapped your lips around her thumb, she allowed you for all of ten seconds before removing it and painting your chin with your saliva. "With a pretty fucking mouth, too. Don't you think?"
Another nod, and she nipped the shell of your ear.
"I wanna hear you say it, baby. Tell me." She squeezed you gently for emphasis.
You sighed, cheeks flaring with the words floating in your mind. "I… I have a pretty fucking mouth."
Sevika snickers and kisses you in three places. Lightning bolts on inflamed skin. "Good girl. Now, open." Her fingers slid across your lips, waiting for the access that you granted immediately.
Her index and middle split in your mouth, taking residence on either side of your tongue. You teased between both before running up the middle finger. You swirled it left, pulled it center, sucked it like your life depended on it. You repeated the same for her index. Her fingers were devoid of any distinct flavor, but if you thought hard enough, you feigned the savor of your dripping cunt from memory alone.
You sucked and sucked and sucked on her fingers, bobbing slowly as you maintained eye contact with the owner of the wolfish grin in the mirror. One draw of her fingers withdrew them far enough to let your saliva dribble down your lip and chin. You cleaned up as much as you could, but the rest streaked and smeared as Sevika removed herself completely to cup your chin, then your cheeks.
That same hand made the agonizing trip down your neck and chest to graze over your pert nipples peeking through the large shirt. The breath you inhaled made her stop, and her stopping made you whine in protest.
"Think I remember you wanted my hands on your tits. That true?"
While your head was swimming through the heady haze of arousal, you'd have been remiss to not notice both her hands at the hem of your shirt easing their way up. Each second she waited for a response made the trip more leisurely. Typical Sevika behavior. She was a master of drawing pleasure out until the last second—the true embodiment of the virtue of patience despite how many vices she indulged on the regular.
Once more, an eager nod didn't satisfy her.
"Use your words, baby."
"Y-Yes, I want your hands on my tits. Mmm… all over them…"
Sevika flashed you a quick smile before she peppered four kisses from your neck up to your cheek. The last she released slowly, letting her lips linger hot on your skin. Her nose feathered across your cheek, ghosted your earlobe. She kept silent, but her gaze followed her hands as they raised your shirt.
Slowly.
“Arms up,” she said.
You obeyed. Up, up, up the shirt rose. It stopped right over your face, and Sevika held you there with your arms raised for several seconds before you caught on to her game and hip checked her. She laughed at you when you cussed at her, but once the shirt was tossed aside, Sevika was free to fully engulf your breasts in each hand. Her hands were big; you placed your own over hers and relished at the difference in size. A groan roiled in the pit of your chest only to ease up and drift from your lips as a breathy sigh.
She massaged them, kneaded them, rolled them under strong hands. Her fingers, still damp and drying from your mouth, tweaked and tugged your nipples. The motion and temperature difference had you choking out a moan, and you felt it like a bolt of lightning from your cunt to the soles of your feet.
Her bulge pressed right against your ass. You pushed and grinded back into her to elicit a low groan. Not a full-size dildo or even a pack-and-play from what you could decipher, but the friction still felt fucking amazing.
"Feel good, babe?" She pulled your earlobe with her teeth, and with it, a strained moan from your throat. "You're lucky," she began. You protested when her claws left your breast and descended to squeeze your supple ass. "You're lucky it's late and I'm tired.” With her hand at the back of your neck, she bent you forward until your cheek lay flat against the cold marble counter. She flicked her tongue out against your tailbone, then the dimples in your back. Licked an unwavering trail up your spine until she reached your nape. The shiver she coaxed from you was delicious but didn’t hold a flame to the words she purred in your ear. “Or else I'd fuck you silly. Tear your little ass apart." She could be so much dirtier, so much kinkier. This? It was light work, and it still made you gush between your thighs.
No manner of struggling or rolling your hips made Sevika let up. But you still played along.
"Good thing… you don't need a strap for that."
"Oh yeah?" You felt Sevika's smirk grow from her place at your neck. "What else should I use?" She lifted you, gave you a quick swat on the ass—you flinched—before tugging at your breast again. She rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger then repeated the same motion with the opposite hand, making your toes curl.
You cursed yourself for being so fucking sensitive. Sevika had learned of it after your first night together and had been exploiting it ever since. With enough attention, it wasn’t impossible to make you come from nipple play alone. Janna knows she’d done it before and then laughed at you afterwards. Called you cute.
Whether she aimed to elicit another slew of moans from you, or make it difficult for you to answer properly, you didn't know, but she was successful regardless.
"Mm… your fuuu….f-fin….fuck…"
"My what? Speak up, baby girl."
"Fuck off, Sev. Your fingers. I want your fucking fingers inside me."
You let her tweak your nipple one final time before you grasped the back of her large hand, intertwining your fingers. She didn't resist, let you guide her hand slowly but surely down your ribs. Under your guidance, her touch remained gentle with a rebellious edge as she scored your heated skin with blunt nails. She pinched at your hip bone as you passed, then reached to trace the ring of your belly button before stopping briefly at the waistband of the underwear.
With one snap of the band with her thumb, you brought her hand lower and gasped when her fingers weaved through the hair on your mound. You squeezed it in your claw grip. Grinded against her again.
"I’ve barely touched you and you’re already writhing under me," Sevika whispered.
Well, she was right. You'd been so pent up and eager the whole night, a simple ghost of her fingers right where you needed her drove you wild. All the hours of waiting and you'd finally get closer to release. The grand question was… how quickly would she let you?
Sevika was notorious for her antics. Begging on your knees? She had you covered. Servicing her first and thanking her for it? A favorite of hers. Worshipping every inch of your body under honeyed words and praise? You never minded waiting there. Patience above all was rewarded, but she still made the experience enjoyable along the way. Which route she'd explore today was still undetermined, even with the familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.
No amount of grinding or snapping the waistband of her boxers made her budge. Instead, you earned a smirk and playful tug of your left nipple. You pouted.
She moved an inch lower to appease you, kneaded your left breast again for good measure. The motion kept you at attention, pliable and eager to please, to do whatever needed to get what you so desperately desired. You shot Sevika a glance that would have put your own hounds to shame.
"Look at my pretty girl. Can't wait to get fucked, can she? What’s the magic word, sweetness?"
Your heart rate spiked right as your belly backflipped. Embarrassment shouldn’t have crept up given how many fucking times you both have done this.
And yet…
“Please?” you said, supplementing with a slow roll of your hips. “Please, Daddy Bear?”
Well, any amount of embarrassment was worth the tremor that vibrated through your lover. It was cute how she couldn’t fully contain her excitement when her sadistic side poked its head out to play.
"Good girl. Let go."
You gave her blazing hand one final squeeze before you did.
Sevika inhaled at your hairline and planted open-mouthed kisses from neck to ear. The shudder in her breaths was evident enough that she wanted to drive further, deeper. She was losing herself, relinquishing her mastery of control. "I want to hear you choke on my fingers, baby. Can you do that for me?"
You nodded. "Mhm…"
"Good. Now, open your mouth."
You obeyed, stuck your tongue out for good measure.
Sevika traced the curve of your chin and jaw, then your top lip until she rested on your bottom. She caressed the center right under the tip of your tongue. "Get my fingers nice and wet, and then I'll give you what you want. Deal?"
“Mhmm…” You accepted her first offered digit between your lips to suck on. She let you control the pace, allowed you to grab her flesh hand in yours to worship and savor at your leisure. You rolled your tongue around it again, working arduously to cover every inch in your saliva.
When you were ready, you added a second, her ring finger. It reached the back of your tongue with ease, and the thought of how trivial it would be to gag on it made you throb between your thighs. But you weren't ready. Not yet. With both in your mouth, you set them on your tongue and began to suck them off.
In.
Rest.
Out.
In
Rest.
Out.
You repeated the motion, eyes half-lidded as you savored the moment. You sucked her fingers like you would her strap, albeit a much easier experience, but erotic nonetheless. Unlike her strap, there wasn't enough girth to stretch your lips or ache your jaw. Not enough length to tickle the back of your throat into gagging too hard. But you still took her all the way, and when she hit the back of your tongue, you coughed and choked and opened your watering eyes to cherish your girlfriend's reactions.
An excited tremble shook through Sevika, rocking you. She fixated on your mouth and the saliva that dripped down your chin as she removed her hand. "Fuck…" She took one swipe over your bottom lip—admired it—before dipping into your underwear.
The two soaked digits glided on either side of your clit. The temperature and texture difference forced your head back onto her shoulder with a loud gasping moan. Just like her virtue, her strokes were resolute, every one aiming to make you feel it from top to bottom.
Sevika never disappointed. For all the times she enjoyed watching and hearing you beg, she loved giving you a full body experience to make up for the wait. While she worked her fingers, she pressed herself into you. She worked her claws up your body—cold metal on burning flesh—until she reached and tugged on your nipple again. Her breath tickled your earlobe as she alternated between nips and featherlight kisses trailing to your collar. Abandoned your clit to tease a ring around your entrance.
"That feel good?" she asked.
Dragging the response from your brain proved more tedious than you imagined. You pushed past the mental haze, swam past the dark cloud until you found the words you were looking for.
"Mhm… y-yeah. Yeah… it feels so good…"
“Hahaha… here." She snatched her hand away and you whined as she painted your lips with your own slick. "Taste."
You pulled her soaked fingers into your mouth, lapping at the lingering juice extracted from her tease and craving more.
You stole her hand and guided it back into your underwear, back to sliding around your clit. "Vika…" you whined.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Want your fingers in me, bear… Want 'em deep."
There was no shame in the request, even if your cheeks burned brightly. But you did shudder at Sevika's rumbling laugh behind you. Hissed at her teasing loop around your entrance.
"Want 'em deep, hmm?" she mimicked. Her words lingered, clung to the air like the Zaun Gray as she finally, finally pushed one finger past the threshold into you.
A gentle "fuck" dribbled past your lips. You ground your head harder into her shoulder as you shut your eyes to the world, hellbent on focusing solely on the sensations she gifted you.
Sevika plunged as deeply as she could. Slow motions, in and out, with a curling caress against your soft and sensitive front wall. Then stopped to let you accommodate. Her claws grazed your ribs and under your breast once more before settling at your neck.
Your spine straightened, eyes flew open as she tapped your jugular. Your attention locked with hers.
"You still with me?"
The implication was clear. Sevika loved to be rough and push your limits, and you were more than willing to bend and test them under her watchful guard. Two years together was enough to solidify a clear communication base, but you didn't progress this far without a great deal of understanding and patience. She was surprisingly a good listener, which, in retrospect, shouldn't have been surprising given her line of work. Credit where credit was due, of course.
Finally, you sighed your agreement and braced yourself for the oncoming crescendo.
Sevika retracted her finger to add a second to the mix. She inserted, slowly, sheathed both inside you like a deadly weapon. Large fingers stretched you in that way you loved so much, and she muffled your oncoming moan with her own lips and tongue.
The fog that muddled your brain thickened by the second. Your focus darted everywhere, trying desperately to keep up with every angle of pleasure she massaged your senses with.
Her claws set firmly in place on your neck. Tapped there again in rhythm. Made you acknowledge their presence. She tutted when you arched against her to coax her plan into motion.
"Deja de moverte. Be still." Her index traced down the column of your throat, bobbed under your careful swallow. If you hadn't known her as long as you had, it would have felt like a threat. Instead, it was a warning, a safety precaution.
You stilled, relaxed, and breathed evenly, counting in your head like she taught you.
She pumped once, a test.
Paused.
Another, and Janna, it was difficult not to fidget.
A third, and she open-kissed the corner of your jaw for passing. She kept her pace slow and put pressure on the arteries, leaving your throat and breathing free.
Your pulse thumped against her metal palm. The restricted blood flow intensified every other sensation, had your eyes fluttering. You rasped. The abyss lingered at the very edge of your consciousness, and you wanted to go deeper, sink further, play chicken with it…
Fuck.
Fuck…
But Sevika pulled you out as quickly as you dipped in.
You mourned the loss, but knew it was for the best. Sevika knew it was for the best.
"Good girl," she cooed in your ear, then turned your head back to the mirror. "Look at you, sweetness. My pretty girl."
You gazed in the mirror to stare at the absolutely fucked-out figure in your girlfriend's arms. Half-lidded eyes and parted lips meshed well with erect nipples and crimson marks painting a beautiful and exposed neck. The heady redolence of sex wafted in the air. With your underwear lowered, Sevika's fingers plunged in and out of a pussy glistening with slick. Every thrust filled your ears with the gushing sounds of your juices soaking her fingers.
Your juices.
You were acutely aware it was you in the mirror. Aware of the high you got from the deadly, metal hand at your neck. Aware that your essence remained coated on your tongue. Aware that she fucked you in all primal senses until they dulled.
Blood pounded your ears.
She thrusted.
Heart rammed against your ribcage.
She thrusted.
"Vika…" you moaned. "Se-Sevikaaa…"
You buried your nose into her collar and your world went dark as your hips gyrated into her fingers and into her body. Your orgasm rolled through you like a wave, ebbing and flowing with Sevika's slowing thrusts, every jerk a splash against her. The mantra of her name on your lips broke down to a whispering prayer. She murmured against your temple, gentle words you couldn't fully comprehend with your mind still rattled.
Ragged breaths escaped from your lungs. Your legs wobbled even with Sevika holding you up with her metal arm. And Janna, were you hot. Despite feeling like you’d just sprinted a marathon, the blissfulness was unmatched.
"You okay, sweetheart?" she asked, then her voice dropped. "Or did I fuck you too good?"
You cradled her left arm—a nice chill for your burning skin—with your laugh rolling right into a satisfied purr. She wasn't wrong; even with her fingers she fucked you well into another dimension and it took at least a full minute before your awareness returned. Sevika was still very much buried inside you, unmoving, but still there.
And it felt… good.
She must have been thinking the same as she adjusted and kissed behind your ear. "Gonna pull out now."
And when she did, carefully, you winced and jerked against her. But you stopped her. Her eyebrow rose at you in the mirror, and you quelled her questions when you took those two fingers into your mouth.
"Fuck…" Sevika's claws dug at your hip as she stared at you like Janna herself made her ethereal presence known to the world. She was awestruck watching you clean her hand of your essence. Hungry. Feral. Predatory glint in her wolf-grey eyes.
She spun you around and after a few quick glances at your lips, leaned in to capture them in hers. The usual spark and dominance showed in her aggression—teeth clicked against yours, deft tongue eager to taste and explore your mouth for the umpteenth time. It dizzied you, made it hard to breathe. You shivered as cool metal waltzed down your back, and you retaliated with a prance up her abs.
Sevika flexed under you, rock solid, before she pulled away and stared at you with blown pupils. She tilted your chin up, holding you in place to command your attention, then licked her full lips.
"You taste so fucking good," she whispers.
You locked eyes with her. Experience told you everything she wanted to do to you. How she desired to bend and mold your body, stretch and push you to your limits, savor every bite like a last meal at Stillwater. You melted under her watchful eyes. All you had for her was a smile, and she mirrored it with a wolfish smirk of her own. You seized the moment and moved from her abs to sternum. The thump-thumping of her heart slowed, adrenaline and lust finally wearing off as she knocked her forehead against yours. You inhaled, the lingering base note of her cologne recentering you and pulling your focus back.
"Look at you. So fucking pretty," she said.
Even with your own essence spread across your lips, your knees buckling under her, your eyes half-lidded and dazed, she still gazed at you like you were the most beautiful specimen in all of Runeterra.
"You're such a good girl, you know that?" She released your chin to knock a strand of hair out of your face. "Don't you ever forget it."
You knew what you meant to her, inside and outside the bedroom, but you would never grow tired of hearing her say it.
"Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, Daddy."
She gave you two quick pecks followed by a final and more passionate third. And just like that you both relinquished your roles to pick up again another day.
"Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sevika caressed your cheek with her knuckles. “Ready for a shower?"
You shook your head. "In the morning? Took one earlier. Don't feel like it. Also don't think I can stand much longer."
That was all fine with Sevika. She hoisted you onto the counter, asked you to wait, and sauntered off into the bedroom.
The high was finally starting to wear off as you leaned against the bathroom counter, replaced with the occasional brush with darkness. The ghost of Sevika's fingers still remained buried in your cunt—a nice stretch that left a delicious throb and ache in its wake. Wet stickiness between your thighs had you rubbing them together. You could only imagine how great Sevika's tongue would have felt if either of you were up for it.
Eventually, she returned in sweatpants and her sports bra with a washcloth she pulled from the linen closet.
"Hey," she said, lifting your chin gently. "Sleepy already?" Her lip twitched at what you assumed was an oncoming smirk but it never came to light. Your attention wavered and those were the last words you were able to decipher.
Sevika chuckled to herself.
With the mess between your legs cleaned and dried, Sevika flung your arms around her neck. The bathroom light flickered off and you floated to the bedroom and drifted down to the bed.
Sevika stretching over you was the last thing you saw before the bedroom was plunged into darkness.
------
Sudden rhythmic caresses across your ass and thigh stirred you from sleep. Distant cerulean lights sliced through pitch black, left splatters on the far wall. Heartbeats rocked beneath your cheek in tandem with the rise and fall of the strong, bare chest beneath you.
When the motions stopped, you drifted again, struggling to fight sleep until a light buzz startled you alert.
Worry set in at the annoyed and familiar ursine grumble. The hand left you to snatch the phone off the nightstand. It only took five seconds before your girlfriend set it back down and shifted under you.
Immediately, you felt your time together was over. Early texts usually meant last minute shipping manifests. And shipping manifests meant the rare days where Sevika left you in bed alone. Instinct took over and you straddled the body under you, hands planted on her muscular chest to keep her in place.
Sevika rose to her elbows. "What's up, sweetness? You okay?"
You could have laughed. Typical Sevika, overly worried about you while her sleepy, husky voice lit a small fire in your loins. You made a valiant attempt to stamp it down.
"¿Cariño?"
You reached out slowly. Traced down the soft curves of her angular face—forehead to nose, lips to chin—then cupped her cheek. You rested your own forehead against hers.
Neither of you spoke. Didn't need to. Your worry was evident but Sevika snorted. Her sigh tickled your cheek and lips. She peppered lazy kisses across your jaw, down the column of your neck, and back up to rest on your lips.
Simple reassurance.
Metal and flesh engulfed you and pulled you close until you settled your head back home on her chest. Warm fingertips traced the ridges of your spine—down, down, down—back to cup your ass and the back of your thigh.
"Just a reminder text from Ran. Still gotta be up in seven hours." Her voice deepened, a still-sleepy-growling-purr that rolled a shiver up your spine. "After we're done, I'm all yours."
You knew from experience and the nature of Sevika's line of work that she couldn't promise that. Still, her word was as good as gold. Phone communication could only tide you over for so long after a long and stressful week. You drifted off, mumbling to yourself and Sevika about how thankful you were to finally have time together.
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tf2incorrectquotes · 3 months
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Team Fortress 2 Headcanons #27:
Spy has a high immunity to many toxins and drugs due to a long career in espionage, but the team was able to experience a drunk Spy once. He wouldn't stop hugging and apologising to a confused Scout.
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the captain of my sea [captain john price x f!reader]
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▸pairing: captain john price x f!reader words: 1,715 ▸warnings: SMUT (porn without plot, oral sex (f and m receiving), but like mostly price giving because he really enjoys it, facesitting, spitting, p*ssy slapping, some dirty talk, unprotected sex). ▸summary: you didn't know that your captain wanted you the way you wanted him, but when you end up back at his place he shows you just how much he's wanted you.
▸a/n: this man deserves a mustache ride, truly.
[masterlist]
tags: @augmented-beauty, @jawabear <- resident price thots hehe
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You’ve always had a sort of illicit attraction to the captain. It was wrong, forbidden, and somehow that made it all the more delicious to you.
There was no telling if he felt the same—Captain John Price was not a man who wore his feelings on his sleeve as you did. Even if he did, he definitely wouldn’t be the one making a move.
But somehow, you missed some of the glances he threw your way. You took his concern for you as a captain simply caring for his team. There was more to it, though; you would find that out soon enough.
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You all were enjoying another relaxing night out—drinks, pub food, and conversations that were finally able to happen. The captain sat with you all but only spoke occasionally. He was much happier just enjoying his scotch and cigar.
You looked up once and caught him looking at you over his glass of scotch—his blue gaze boring into your very soul. He placed the empty glass back on the table and gave you a sideways smile.
While everyone else talked, he zeroes in on you. “It’s not polite to stare, sergeant,” he said.
“Sorry, sir.”
“There something on my face?” he asked, smoothing down his mustache.
“Should there be?” you asked, the drink in front of you giving you courage.
He chuckled, shaking his head at your forwardness. “That kind of talk will get you in trouble, pet.”
“A little trouble never hurt, captain.” You shrugged, then brought your drink to your lips.
“Hm,” he grunted, then raised his glass to the passing waiter to ask for another drink.
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And now you were, riding your captain’s face as if your life depended on it.
He pulled his mouth off you to speak. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?” he asked, looking up at you.
“Please, captain,” you whined.
“Mm c’mere.” He wrapped his arms around your thighs and held them tightly, holding you down against his face. His nose nudged your clit repeatedly as he pushed his tongue inside you, fucking you with it.
“Fuck…captain…” you moaned. He groaned against your cunt, licking fervently, wanting you to cum…again. You were growing weak now. You had cum three times already.
You cried out loudly and ran your fingers through his hair before pulling as you came again, your body going limp.
“C-Captain…” you murmured weakly. He was still licking at you, his mustache tickling your overly sensitive skin.
“Easy now,” he said as he carefully slid you off his face.
But he wasn’t done with you.
With half-closed eyes, you watched him. You noticed how his mustache glistened with your juices. Even his nose was wet.
“Flat on your back,” he said, helping you move. He gave you a slight reprieve before grabbing your legs from behind your knees and pushing them back to your breasts. Your face grew hot. He had seen you already, but somehow you felt even more exposed this way.
He stared at your pussy, glistening with juices and saliva. He licked his lips before flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit.
“Pretty little thing,” he muttered, staring at it again before looking into your eyes and slowly licking you from your entrance to your clit, then back down to tease the hole a little.
After teasing you a little longer, he grabbed your thighs and held onto them as he buried his face in you. His head moved side to side, up and down, in circles—he couldn’t get enough. He slurped and suckled at you as if you tasted better than any scotch he’d ever have.
You whimpered, and he looked up at you.
“Are you pouting at me?” he asked. “Hm?” Suddenly he was pinching your clit. You moaned right before he pulled his hand away and slapped your pussy.
“Fuck!” Your thighs trembled, and you were cumming again.
“Like that, hm?” He slapped it once again for good measure before spitting on it. He watched his spit drip down your slit, then rubbed it in.
“Sir,” you whined.
“I can eat this pretty pussy all night, but I can tell you need a break,” he said. He kissed your clit, then pulled away, bringing your legs back together. You winced at the slight pain in your hips.
He lay beside you and kept his eyes on you as he lit a half-smoked cigar.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” you said weakly.
“You can call me John here,” he said. He put a hand between your thighs, and you winced. “Beard burn,” he chuckled. “Sorry.” He rubbed at his muttonchops.
“It’s okay. I…like it,” you admitted.
“The pain?” he asked.
You smiled sheepishly. “Yes, sir.”
“Oh, careful now, love. I’m an old man. Some of the things you say might put me in an early grave,” he joked.
“You’re not old,” you said. “I would say…experienced.”
He blew the smoke from his cigar out in the other direction before turning back to you. “That’s just a nice way of saying old.”
“Okay, well, I guess I fucked an old man,” you giggled.
“Not technically,” he said, making a face. “I went down on you. Not exactly fucking.”
“The night isn’t over yet, John.” You noticed his cock twitch when you said his name.
“No,” he said when he noticed you looking at it. “You know what I want.” He slid his hand up your thigh and found you still wet.
“Your jaw is gonna be sore tomorrow,” you teased.
He shrugged. “Let it. It’ll be sore for a good reason.” He wasn’t looking at your face anymore. He was more interested in how slick you were against his fingers.
While he wasn’t looking, you dragged a finger along his cock. It was lying against his toned stomach, just begging to be touched. You wrapped your hand around it, and he spread his legs a little.
“You don’t listen,” he complained, watching you stroke him. “Mmm…insubordination…”
“Want me to stop?” you asked, moving closer. Before he could answer, you used the tip of your tongue to lick up the precum on the head of his dick. When you pulled away, there was a string of it that kept you connected to him.
“Aw fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back. “Don’t fucking do that.”
“Do what, sir?” You wrapped your lips around him.
“You just do what you want, don’t you?” He put a gentle hand on your head. “Let me see it.”
You took more of him in your mouth, pressing it against the inside of your cheek and looking into his eyes.
“God…I can cum just from that alone,” he told you. “Enough,” he growled, pulling you off of him. He kissed your messy lips and then pulled away before moving off the bed. Then he grabbed your ankles and pulled so that your ass was nearly hanging off the bed.
“Spread ‘em,” he said. He wasn’t asking. You quickly spread your legs as he stroked himself. He slapped his cock against your pussy a few times before kneeling and spreading you with his hands. You yelped when you felt his tongue teasing your ass before he dragged it up to your pussy.
“It’s mine, you understand? All of this is mine,” he said before latching onto your clit and sucking hard.
“John! Jesus!”
With a smile, he pulled away and rested his head on your inner thigh. “You’re not reading the Bible, love,” he teased. He sucked on two fingers and then spit on your pussy before slipping the fingers inside you.
“Fuck me,” you whimpered.
“Look how fucking tight you are,” he said, gritting his teeth while watching how your pussy clenched around his fingers.
“Fuck this,” he snapped before pulling his fingers out of you and standing. He slapped his cock against your pussy again. You spread your lips for him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He quickly lined himself up with you and pushed in slowly.
“Yesssssss,” you moaned. He stretched you so well. “Fuck me, captain.”
“Yeah?” He took a few breaths before slamming into you the rest of the way. You both moaned loudly.
He held himself above you on strong arms—veins bulging with exertion. You looked down to watch how he moved in and out of you.
“Look how well you take me. Look how well you take your captain. Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Suddenly, he was moving faster and fucking you harder. He moved in closer to kiss you, covering your mouth and chin and the juices that saturated his facial hair.
“Let me cum in you….” You thought it might have been a question. It wasn’t.
“Yes, sir.”
“Here it comes.” He stood up and planted his feet firmly on the carpet before pounding into you. “Fucking…tight little…pussy…” he grunted.
With a groan that sounded like it had come from the very depths of his soul, he slammed into you one, two, three more times, then stilled.
“Take it, take it, take it,” he said through gritted teeth.
He collapsed on top of you with a slight whimper and a few more grunts.
“Christ,” he breathed. “I think my heart may have stopped.”
“Well, you certainly aren’t dead, John,” you joked.
“It does feel like heaven, though,” he said against your neck. He kissed you quickly before pulling out and stumbling back on weak knees. “Give…give me a minute.” He walked to the bathroom and returned a few moments later with a washcloth. He wiped you down, being careful around your more sensitive areas.
Your thighs were rubbed raw from beard burn, and you flinched a little when he wiped them.
“Oo, sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s okay.” You moved up the bed slowly until your head was on the pillows again. Price lit another cigar.
“You, uh, you wanna stay?” he asked.
“If you want me to,” you said.
“I’m asking you. Would you like to stay?”
“Yes, I would,” you told him.
“Good, I want you to.” He opened his arms to you, and you cuddled up against him. “You sleep now, okay?”
“Okay. You sleep too.”
“After my cigar,” he said.
You smiled and closed your eyes. “Goodnight, John.”
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There is so little Long John Silver hc’s I just want a cute moment with him getting some cuddles!
I know right?? I find this illegal there aren't any headcanons of him!
lol alright lets see what I have for him ;3
Also so sorry this took me long to answer! D'8
John Silver x Reader Cuddling
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🏴‍☠️ He has a way of being expert on good cuddling. Once you snuggle with him you never want to be out of his arms.💖
🏴‍☠️ His warm embrace comfort you whenever you had hard days. And he will not hesitate to say yes if you need some cuddling moment with him.
🏴‍☠️You two make your cuddling a secret from his pirate crew but if they found out Silver will threaten them to keep it a secret while protecting you.
🏴‍☠️ He'll always make sure you were resting on his right arm. he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable with his robotic arm.
🏴‍☠️ As you are resting on his chest the best moment for you is you can hear his soft heartbeat and calm breath. It was like your lullaby and sometimes you fell asleep without meaning to.
🏴‍☠️ And the best part about cuddling with him is once a while you two have a nice hot drinks or a small snacks to eat that he made.
🏴‍☠️Sometimes you two will have a quiet moment after a long day but if you yearn to for his story Silver would tell you amazing tales about his adventures as you two snuggle close.
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theredcuyo · 10 months
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After what happened today on Bad's stream with Tallulah, I got a terrible angst idea
What if when Wilbur comes back he spends a few, very nice, very sweet says with his little girl, who just now is finally healing from being so apart
But then, the Elquackity starts to track him down, because he may be onto something, Wilbur as he is, may know too much, may just have noticed more that he should, and, maybe, just maybe, theres also a bit of resentment too
And then Wilbur goes missing, and not his dad, not his friends know where he is, and poor little girl is being taken care of by someone else but her papa again, but this time... No one knows when he'll return, even if everyone is helping to search for him, except obviously for...
Tallulah then thinks about it, and runs away, to go see him, her "other dad", who may know something, and she finds him... And he's not alone, no, her papa is with him!
Oh, she's so happy, and runs to give him a hug... But, thing is, instead of his usual warm response, or kind, loving words, he isn't moving, he's silent, and even if she holds onto him tightly, he feels cold, he feels so cold that she starts to worry, and when she looks up, gets nothing but an emotionless gaze, under a face that she can recognize but that its not the same, and a few words that make her tiny heart break into pieces
"Who's this little girl?, is it yours?" Wilbur asked Quackity, barely even looking at her
He smells like smoke and fireworks after they are used, she notices
This is a terrible, terrible idea...
AND I LOVE IT, DAMN IT
Worst thing is, this could totally happen-
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Crossover headcanon: Crowley becomes a parental figure to Alex Fierro.
Why????
Reclaims Snake Symbol for self after it being imposed as a bad thing on them as part of their identity
Genderfluid
Godly Mommy Issues
After basically adopting Alex, Samirah basically becomes his daughter too. They're all very equally protective about each other but both Alex and Sam become fiercely, scarily, protective of their Momma Crowley.
Also I think Crowley's potential friendship with Blitz and Hearthstone would be so healing!
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tmnt-2012-headcanons · 6 months
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After Splinter’s death, 12 Leo doesn’t know how to interact with male figures that are over the age 20.
Or at least ones that he and his brothers doesn’t already trust
Headcanon spawned: from watching the Usagi crossover episode
he probably couldn't before his dad died lets be real here
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elitadream · 8 months
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Just saw your latest post with Peach and Toadsworth and it made me imagine different kinds of scenarios of how it would look like if Mario was in Toadsworth's place! I know you wrote down "start talking about your crush", but you get what I'm trying to say
Fun fact, I actually pictured one such scene with Mario long before I even included Toadsworth in my art!^^ And I doodled quite a few variations of that concept: Mario and Peach touring the castle together and looking at the paintings on the walls, the two of them exchanging a few quiet words while on a meeting, Mario helping Peach carry a stack of books out of the library, the two laughing together while enjoying tea, etc. 🥰
I really love these moments. When two characters who share an obvious chemistry (be it friendship, parent & child, a sibling bond, or a shy romance!) are having a fun and pleasant time no matter what the task or activity is; happy just to be in each other's company. 💞
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bishopony · 1 year
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Twilight and Spike sit next to the remains of the Golden Oak library
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monocle-teacup · 4 months
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I headcanon Mandroid as being a fan of intellectual board games like Scrabble and chess. He also enjoys games where he can fuck with other players like Sorry. The thing about Scrabble though is that the letters are going to be practically microscopic in his FF claws. He'd also be a dick and use words he learned on his space bridge journey.
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theelvenhaven · 1 year
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Anything You Need
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Caranthir x Reader
3.3k Words
A/N: A totally self indulgent fic and essentially a self insert. Hope you guys don't mind.
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Low Self Esteem, Talks of Abandonment
****
You couldn’t help the horrid feelings of anxiety and depression that began to creep in as you struggled with how you were feeling. 
You couldn’t help but ask what it was you weren’t struggling with? 
You hardly felt helpful, productive, and capable. Your son who needed a stable set of parents, had you as a parent. Which is where the thoughts traveled to how incapable and unable you were to be a good caregiver to Miron. Who you loved dearly and with all of your heart, but you couldn’t help but ask what kind of parent were you as you lost your temper?
As you snapped and got an attitude with him. Huffing and puffing, being generally annoyed with him. Though you did your best to try and hide some of your frustration, still hugging him as he asked for it and kiss him when he desired. Yet you wondered how it was you were scarring your precious child. 
The same old questions from days of when he was babe came up to the surface. Were you a good enough Odhril? 
Miron said you were the best Odhril, but were you really? Or could he just not tell the difference not knowing that Odhril’s were supposed to always be patient, and not so huffy. At least that is what you had been taught. 
Your emotions always null and void when you were his age and growing, so you supposed you punished yourself any time you had a negative feeling. Because life was meant to be idyllic and perfect, and you simply couldn’t fulfill those things. 
You pulled yourself from your dreary thoughts as Miron came running up to you crying, holding his arms up to be picked up. You sighed out, both with a mixture of annoyance and relief that it was nap time. So gently you leaned down to pick him up, cradling him close to your chest letting him lay his head on your shoulder while he wailed. 
For a moment you felt at peace despite the numbness and self-mental-flagellation. Rocking your baby back and forth, even if he was fifteen, he would always be your baby… It made tears well in your eyes as the question rolled through your mind again. 
What kind of parent are you for thinking so little of your child? 
It made your heart in your chest ache, as you felt the sudden weight of guilt piling itself on top of you and you felt the tears well as you pressed kisses to his temple as he was calming down to sniffles. But now it would seem you were riled up, and it felt rightfully so to feel this way. 
You walked from the playroom to next door to his bedroom where you stood for Eru knew how long until you felt Miron go limp in your hold. Hearing the soft sounds of his even breathing, signaling to you that he was sleeping. So you brought him over to the bed and with delicate care, held onto him as you laid him back. 
Covering him up under his favorite blanket you just washed the day before, bringing your hand to brush away some of his black hair away from his peaceful sleeping face. You leaned over to press a long kiss to his cheek, listening to him breathe out a shaky breath before you pulled away. 
Quietly you left the room, your thoughts racing and that familiar vice finding your heart and lungs. The tears blurring your vision as you made your way to your chambers knowing they’d be empty right now as Caranthir was busy working. Which was why you were alone with Miron in the first place. 
You were too proud to ask for help though you were growing desperate for it and for a break, you felt so low and like you were drowning in these dark emotions. But how could you possibly ask for a break when you owed it to your husband to be Miron’s caretaker when he was busy? 
It was the least you could do when he was working for hours on end, providing for you and Miron, while you felt like a useless burden contributing to nothing. Heartbroken you shut your bedroom door, walking over to the sofa to sit at the foot of the bed as the tears began to stream down your face. 
You couldn’t even keep up with basic tasks of housekeeping regularly, it was so clear it was your responsibility. Yet you struggled to even pick up the dirty clothes off the floor and get them in a hamper, or declutter your end table that was piled with papers, books, goblets, and other miscellaneous items. Your side of the room was testament to your shortcomings and short fallings. 
You couldn’t even begin to imagine why it was Caranthir even wanted to start a family with you or even continue to have this family with you. 
What good was there in you? When you couldn’t be a good parent? When you couldn’t be a good housekeeper, and you were nothing but a burden to Caranthir with all the hard work he was putting into what he did for you guys. 
Today was a day where you felt like you wished you could pack up everything you owned and just run. Abandon them, because their lives would be wholly better without you, and they’d be happier if they didn’t have to look at such a stark example of a failure all the time. 
You sobbed as you buried your face into your hands, your shoulders falling slack and you seemed to sink into the sofa cushions. You tried so hard to be quiet, to not hiccup as you cried, to not gasp out in short breaths, and to ease the hurt in your chest. 
Oh how it ached and hurt in ways that felt unimaginable. You just wished it would stop. You prayed to Eru it would stop. Anything to make the pain and the hurt stop, you were tired of sinking this low. Of feeling you couldn’t even do the simplest things right and failing everyone around you. 
You were so caught up in your thoughts and emotions you hardly heard the sounds of the bedroom door opening. You hadn’t been as quiet as you thought you had been in your crying, which had triggered the domino effect of a maid telling another and another and quickly it spread like wildfire with several of the ladies informing the Lord of Thargelion what they were hearing. 
Urgently he broke off his meeting from his brothers, they could wait. No matter how angrily Tyelko protested or how Curvo told him to put silly emotions aside as this was “important” to Caranthir, there was nothing more important than knowing you were suffering and wanting to get to the bottom of why. Let alone help you. 
Concern welled in his chest as he heard your sobs, watching the way you doubled over in your spot and how your face was buried in your hands. Your body shaking and fingers sliding up to tangle in your loose hair.
If someone had done something to make you feel this way he’d ruin their lives and make sure they knew what hell was. 
“Y/N?” He asked in a voice that was soft only for you making you shy away as you moved to turn your body away from him. Quickly sniffling and sucking in breaths trying to stop the tears as you fervently began to wipe your face, 
“Y/N? What is the matter?” Caranthir asked, locking the bedroom door and not hesitating to approach you watching as you desperately tried to compose yourself. To hide the intense emotions you were experiencing, and his furrowed his brows deeper, to others it would’ve looked scowly on his face. But you knew it was a look of concern. 
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You iterated quickly, trying to brush away his attempts to comfort you, you didn’t deserve it. You stood from your spot on the sofa so you could attempt to put some distance between the two of you, but Caranthir was quicker as he was over by your side in several long strides. 
His hand coming to your hips tenderly, as you turned around completely so you didn’t have to face him. His arms instead wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest, his lips coming to be right next to the shell of your ear as he held you close to him. Caranthir could feel you shaking in his grip,
“Who has hurt you, Y/N?” Caranthir whispered, trying a softer approach and trying not to let his emotions get the better of him and run away from him. Not when you were clearly hurting so bad, but you were quiet. Or at least as quiet as you could be while you still tried to calm yourself. You shook your head, 
“It’s okay, Y/N. You’re safe. You can tell me.” With Curvo and Tyelko here they could help with whomever had hurt you, but you shook your head again. This time Caranthir loosened his hold on your hips slowly turning you around to face him. You didn’t resist, but you didn’t lift your gaze to meet his, and quietly he inspected your face. Looking for signs of physical harm, because what else could cause such intense hurt for you?
“I can’t.” You whispered, and he frowned at your words. 
“Why not?” He pressed, 
“Because you’ll be ashamed of me.” You whispered, and Caranthir kept his frown and was now growing weary. What in Eru’s name could you possibly mean by that? For a moment he thought on how to broach this now, and not jump to conclusions, though his mind was doing the mental gymnastics of possibilities. Infidelity? Murder? Slapping some forked tongued Lady? Stabbing someone? Yelling at them?
He took a breath to slow down his own thoughts, trying to remember his Amme’s words to get to the bottom of the problem first and then react. 
“I will not, whatever it is… I promise.” He said gently, bringing a hand to caress your face lovingly. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, you sniffled before nodding at his words. For a moment you were quiet, trying to think of how to word all of your problems to him, and what was churning in your mind and chest. 
Before you decided that you’d have to come right out and say it. 
“I just feel, that you and Miron would be better off without me.” You suddenly croaked out, and the tears began in their deluge again. But you were trying so hard to stay composed, and Caranthir felt ice run through his veins at your words. What were you saying? How could you possibly think that? He wanted to be angry, but he took a slow breath. 
“Why in Eru’s name would you think that we would be better off without you?” He asked you slowly pushing you back to sit on the sofa so he could sit next to you. Watching as you went with the motions, the way your arms began to wrap around yourself to hold yourself in a hug of some kind to comfort yourself he assumed. 
He scooted closer to you to wrap an arm around your shoulder, but you didn’t lean in as you processed his question. 
“Because I am such a failure as a parent, and as a spouse. I am so frustrated and annoyed with Miron and it’s all unjust and unfair and I can’t hide it no matter how hard I am trying too. And I have raised my voice, I have huffed and puffed, and rolled my eyes. What kind of parent am I for doing such a thing with our child… my child? For feeling such a way? He’s innocent and I cannot control my emotions no matter how hard I try and I know he knows.” You sobbed out, folding some in on yourself. Releasing your hold to put your head in your hands and your elbows on your thighs. 
“I am a horrid parent, and then I can’t even do basic housekeeping to keep up with all the messes made in a day. Dishes we use, or laundry, picking up Miron’s toys, or even keeping my side of the room clean. It looks like you live with a lazy slob, and I can hardly think of what meals to cook anymore and have been relying too much on the cook or you and you work so hard and I have done nothing.” It just all came tumbling out, your thoughts and feelings. Ones you thought you wouldn’t be able to confess to anyone, but now that Caranthir had opened the gates you couldn’t stop yourself. 
“You both would be better off with someone else, someone more capable. Prettier, nicer, more patient, better at cleaning and managing their emotions.” You cried out but Caranthir began to shake his head no at your words, his hands sliding up your face to cradle it gently. Holding your face and pulling it up to look at him. 
He was panicking, the idea of you leaving him or Miron… To be without you… That would be pure hell. Pure torture. He loved you, he adored you, you and Miron were his whole world and why he strived so hard to do so much good in the world where he could. 
He didn’t hesitate to lean in and press is lips to yours, for a moment you froze in shock. It was not what you were expecting, you were expecting for him to agree with you and to help you pack your things and kick you right out the door. 
Yet a huge wave of relief came washing right over you as you pressed your lips back to his, your tears becoming one of relief. That he wasn’t angry with you or feeling the same way that you did. 
Caranthir wasn’t always the best with his words, negotiating with diplomats was one thing, but pouring his heart out was another. But he was going to try for you, and so gently he parted from the kiss, his hands still holding your face. 
“Don’t… Y/N no… I need you. We need you.” He began struggling to find the right way to convey what you meant, 
“I love you, Miron loves you. You do so much for us, and you have done so much for us.” He breathed out trying not to let the panic in his lungs escape with every passing breath he spoke. Caranthir watched the way your bottom lip quivered at his words, and your eyes still not meeting his gaze. But that didn’t deter him, only bringing him to rest his forehead against yours as is thumbs stroked you tear stained cheeks. 
“But Caranthir… I am a failure, I can’t do anything right…” You croaked out, trying not to sob again because what was how you felt. It was a weight lifted to finally tell him how you were feeling, you had been holding it in for so long. 
“Shhh… No, Y/N. You’re not a failure…” He reassured you softly, Caranthir was slightly uncomfortable, but content to try and be more vulnerable with you. After all the times you had made him a safe space, the least he could do was now provide you with one when it was clear you needed one. 
“If anything I have failed you, how long have you needed a break and I have overlooked it…” Caranthir said, realizing there had hardly been any time for you in between all of this. You had been doing the main rearing of Miron, with chores, and cooking, and probably so much more than he could think of. All to take care of them both. 
“It’s going to be okay, Y/N.” Caranthir whispered to you, feeling his own guilt well but he wouldn’t show it to you, this was about you and how you were feeling and what you were struggling with. In another move he pulled you into his lap as he released your face, his arm coming to wrap around your waist another hand to pull you to rest against him. 
So you did so, leaning against him, laying your head against his shoulder and burying your face in his neck, feeling the tears finally starting to subside. He held you close to him, he could tell you were exhausted with how you lay limp in his hold. But Caranthir snugly wrapped his arms around you to hold you tight. 
“We love you, and we need you but you need a break. To rest properly, and Miron will be okay if you take a rest for a day or two. But I only ask of one thing from you.” He said, and you hummed out questioningly at the end of his words, 
“That you see a Healer, I will work with you Y/N. To make sure you get the support you need, but I can only do so much…. I don’t know how to go about this…. I am unsure and uncertain. But I know the Healers can help. Will you see one, please?” He almost pleaded with you, and you thought for a long moment before you began to nod your head. 
You could agree you did need to see a Healer, abandoning your family now that you had gotten everything off your chest terrified you. You didn’t want it to get that far. 
“Okay… I’ll see a Healer.” You whispered out to him, your lips brushing against his neck and slowly Caranthir began to rock you. Pressing a kiss to your head as he gave you a tender squeeze around you, relieved that you would see a Healer. 
“Anything you need from me, melda, you have it. I promise.” Caranthir said to you in a whisper, letting his guard down only for you. Being gentle and soft only for you, because he loved you dearly and would do anything to make this right. To ease the burdens of parenthood and family rearing. 
“Thank you..” You whispered out emotionally, and he hummed softly, rocking you still. 
Caranthir would give you the world if he could, he loved you immensely. Adored you and worshiped the very ground you walked upon. You were his world, with Miron. None of what he did would matter to him without you there present for any of it. 
“It is nothing, Y/N. I love you.” He whispered softly to you, and for a moment the edges of your lips quirked up into a small smile. 
“And I love you too… And Miron.” You said to him in a breath,
“And Miron loves you, and he will forgive you and your frustrations… You’re allowed to feel frustrated, you know?” He whispered in turn, and you swallowed thickly. So he wasn’t going to punish you for being emotional? For having these so called outbursts with Miron?
“You do so much, however long you need… You’ll have it. A break.” He reiterated, and you sighed out contently, relaxing fully against him and nodding your head. Just a couple of days, to get time with the Healers under your belt and just to be able to take care of yourself without taking care of someone else too. 
“Thank you.” You whispered,
“Of course… Anything you need…” He reiterated once more, and finally the guilt, the ache, the pain, for a moment subsided. You didn’t feel so numb, you felt supported, loved, adored, and it felt like it had been too long since you last felt that so consumed by your pain. 
It wasn’t a permanent fix, there was much to work through, but this was a start. Having your husbands support, it was more than what you thought you could’ve ever asked of him. Oh how you loved him just as much.
You couldn’t have been anymore grateful for this and what he was giving you.
****
Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter
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