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#i'm elated! do not doubt that i'm elated!
rubra-wav · 2 months
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Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Pentious, Alastor, and Lucifer x a concerningly unstable, younger reader
@pandaquick
A/N : reader is still written to be 18ish
I took creative liberties with this, so I'm sorry if I've taken that a bit in the wrong direction w this one!
The song 'Mama's Boy' came on while I was deciding where I'll take this one and kinda made me start feeling some type of way/lh
You didn't really specify what type of unstable they are, so I went with depression type presentations for that
Cw: SFW, very slight references to past self-destructive behaviour, gn!reader, platonic, hurt/comfort, found family-ish (in all these except for Alastor's)
Charlie
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- When you show up at the hotel, she's absolutely elated to have a new resident! Especially one who's new to hell and thus hasn't built up sky-high walls to everyone due to the harsh climate.
- When you disclose why you ended up here, she's utterly horrified.
- The idea someone could be condemned to this place which reeks of burning flesh at all times for something so stupid is truly exasperating.
- She almost has doubt creep into her mind about her dream when she hears the truth about your being in hell, but quickly flips it into positivity as it means you're easy to redeem.
- As you become closer and start opening up after feeling more comfortable, Charlie quickly becomes very concerned for your well-being.
- Sweeps you into her arms while trying (and failing) to not cry as she hears about the kinds of horrible thoughts going on often for you.
- From then on, if she ever notices you becoming withdrawn or particularly sensitive/unstable she will try to convince you to talk it out with her.
- If that's not something you're into? She just tries to distract you and sweep you along with her as she discusses possible activities for the hotel and other random stuff.
- At some point she starts becoming a caretaker to you emotionally and doesn't really even notice herself start to step into essentially becoming motherly towards you.
- She's just really afraid for you at times and wants to take care of you!
- You're also a fair bit younger than the people around you (including her), so even with you being an adult technically yourself she still slips into that kind of attitude.
Vaggie
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- When you show up she can tell something is up under everything pretty quickly.
- She's dealt with a fair lot of mental anguish over the years so she can see the cracks in your mental state even before you feel comfortable openly discussing it.
- Will not approach it with you, but will do indirect things for you to try help you practically like making extra food for you as she cooks or reminding you to drink water if those are things you seem to struggling.
- Vaggie isn't the emotionally supportive type, so when she tries to be it seems awkward. She is genuine about it, though.
- Openly face palms when she hears that you got sent here for something so little. 'Classic heaven.' She'd grumble under her breath before apologising for you being sent to hell for something so stupid. (Confusing you and making her start sweating a bit because she's meant to be a demon not an angel-)
- As you start opening up more and more, she becomes even more practical in helping you out upon actually knowing what exactly you need.
- Feels incredibly concerned upon hearing the true extent to your instability and probably has some angst over not being emotionally warm as she would like to be.
- You two bond over mutual terrible experiences, and she essentially becomes a mentor-like figure to you.
- This turns more personal, though, as Charlie starts mothering you.
- Eventually you're essentially adopted by Vaggie and Charlie - they both work together to try to help you manage stuff and stay stable.
Angel
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- Initially he'd be neutral to you most likely, just making the same sarcastic comments (albeit not suggestive. Even he has limits from what he's comfortable doing with his persona)
- When he hears how you got here, he just squints at you with a humourless laugh.
- The idea of someone being mostly non-sinful outside of ONE tiny, idiotic reason ending up in this shithole around people who are horrid abusers, to murderers, to every horrible thing possible is fucked.
- After discovering this, he'd be slightly inclined to be protective of you. Only slightly though initially. He can hardly support himself with his own baggage.
- This changes, though, after he learns of your history of self destruction and overall fragility as a demon.
- It's hard for him. He sees so much of himself in you - especially after just getting to hell.
- Despite his more logical thoughts of not trying to care for you, he does genuinely become extremely protective.
- You're the exact type of person who would be taken advantage of here, and he just wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he didn't even try to divert that from happening.
- He's not really the emotional support type, but he'd try to take your mind off of things with other activities. (Watch this man stumble trying to figure out age-appropriate activities for someone he sees as a kid in comparison to himself even if you're technically a legal adult.)
- In the streets, you have him armed to the teeth next to you at most times. It's funny to think about Angel trying to be scary dog privilege, but he actually is when he wants to be.
- Doesn't mother you or act as a guidance figure to you - god knows he is no good example - but he is gonna take out everyone in this bitch if anything happens to you.
Husk
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- The second he meets you, he can see what's going on under everything, but he doesn't approach it at all.
- He's been a bartender collecting sob stories for years. He knows how to spot someone who is cracking under the surface or itching to tell their story or problems.
- He almost feels a prickle of empathy for your situation. Someone so young falling into hell of all places, clearly troubled, is a terrible situation. It's squashed the second he realises that you surely are sinful enough to have ended up here.
- As you reveal that your 'sin' was actually tiny however he curses as he actually now feels bad for you. I mean, come on, you're barely an adult, and you’ve been condemned for your whole afterlife for something so utterly small? He's losing the no heart impression he puts out.
- It scares him a bit honestly, so he avoids you like the plague. He'd rather ignore the pain someone like you being here brings him.
- Unfortunately, that doesn't work out as you come to him after a long day and break down at the counter of his bar. As he offers you an ear, he truly is annoyed at himself.
- Because oh god, he cannot take care of you, but he wants to help you.
- He tries to keep you at arms length as he eventually gives in to his want to try and help you out. Key word: tries.
- He's very rough around the edges in his approach, but he essentially steps in like a kind of really done, grumpy uncle who's always fretting over your wellbeing.
- He hates that he actually gives a shit but he would be incredibly restless if he didn't try to help or make sure you're okay.
- Ironically, he'd be telling you not to drink your problems away. Would be awkwardly giving examples of other coping mechanisms he'd learnt from Charlie's speeches about addiction.
- He's a hypocrite, but he doesn't care. It makes his bitter heart heavy to think of you getting into the vices he uses to cope.
- Also another one who is incredibly protective. Treats you like you're made of glass honestly.
Pentious
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- He finds you strange mostly and is probably the most obviously curious out of everyone here about you and how you came to be here.
- Is asking the most questions even if they are tone deaf as it gets. How did you end up here? How did you die? Why are you moderately normal as compared to the other residents? (A comment which gets him a giant 'fuck you' and 'have you looked at yourself?' From everyone else around)
- He prods you into divulging information and is immediately protective of you from the second he learns that not only are you not really a sinner at all, but you are also quite fragile mentally.
- Someone like you should not be allowed to be tainted by hell's climate. He hides it behind him 'looking out for princess Charlie's dream', but he is truly afraid for you, and it's embarrassing to him.
- Is constantly all up in your business and trying to make sure you are well and okay.
- He's so paranoid that you're not alright that checking in on you almost becomes a compulsion for him. You've gotta end up reassuring him that you're just fine and that he doesn't need to be so worried.
- Absolutely a practical caretaker but is also big on physical touch as comfort.
- If you're ever crying or not feeling good, he will get you stuff and then he just straight up wraps his tail around you and pats your hair while telling you it's going to be okay.
- If you're ever out and he's with you, his immediate instinct is to try throw hands with anyone who looks at you mildly wrong. Due to not having his weapons anymore, he gets his ass beat doing this.
- When he's unable to be around you, he's going to have his eggs with you to help you out if you need anything.
- Really does turn into a worried mother over being like a father more than anything.
Alastor
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- Unlike the others, he would see you solely as an opportunity.
- There's no cute found-family part here. He will use you.
- It would be so easy to convince you to enter into a deal with him as someone vulnerable and inexperienced with hell. He can see how fragile you are under the surface the second you get to the hotel more then just about everyone there.
- Everyone else would be pulling you away from him because it's so obvious you are nothing but easy pickings for him that it's not even funny.
- Would be very genuinely interested in how someone like you ended up in hell though.
- He got here by murdering and exploiting people in every way possible for his own entertainment. How could someone so seemingly innocent get here?
- Openly laughs when he hears your story of sin. He truly pities you getting sent down into hell with people him.
- You avoid him because you can see his intentions on your own, just as much as the people around you are telling you to stay away.
- He, of course, doesn't let that happen. He just likes to show up and watch you fumble through hell like you're prime entertainment.
- He may sometimes help you, but it's only because he just thinks the sight of you struggling is that pathetic to him.
- It may slowly become more of a fondness for you and your company, but the underlying reason for his kind behaviours to you is nothing good.
- He just wants to own you like an item, see how long it takes for someone so pure as a demon to break, and become just as bad as the rest of them.
Lucifer
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- Unlike everyone else who are concerned for you, he sees you and instantly slips into dadTM mode with you, and this only deepens the more he learns about you.
- You almost remind him of how he is with how different you are from all of the other demons, and he feels genuine guilt that someone like you has ended up here.
- If he had never done what he did, you would be up in heaven and not condemned to this hell-hole. He doesn't think you should be down here at all for such a tiny mistake you made in your life.
- When he realises you are also really unstable and vulnerable he's going to be terrified for you.
- Especially with someone like Alastor looming over you at all times.
- He was already getting his shit back together when he began to mend things with Charlie, but he straightens up even more when he meets you and starts growing attached quickly.
- He's initially a bit distant despite his want to try care for you because he's already mending things with Charlie, but Charlie actually encourages him to reach out to you.
- She's essentially your unofficial mum in the hotel, but she's far from perfect at that, so she would like it if he would help however he could.
- Very emotionally supportive with you after he gets to be openly caretaking to you.
- He's still a bit awkward as he's essentially there getting his shit together alongside trying to help you out, but he tries to help wherever he can.
- Will absolutely love it if Charlie, Vaggie, you and him could do activities together for fun.
- He's also scary dog privilege 100%. His worry for you would likely come off as him seeming like he's going to absolutely drop demons and scare the living shit out of them.
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dark-and-kawaii · 6 months
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your pregnancy ficlets are super sweet! How about Halsin finding out tav is pregnant 🥰
Halsin would/does make the best dad. When he was worried about the kids not getting a bedtime story from him I wanted to cry. I go feral for big ol’ guys with a soft heart, and he’s like the poster man for that.
༺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 ༻
♡ Halsin | Pregnancy - Fluff
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In the midst of a small flower field, bathed in the golden rays of the sun, you sat in the forest. Halsin, in his bear form, approaches you silently, attempting to surprise you. But as always, you are keenly aware of his presence. Chuckling softly to yourself you continue plucking a pink flower, and with a playful tone you remark, "You'd have better luck sneaking up on me if you were a cat, you know."
Halsin nudges your back gently with his large furry head, emitting a low, affectionate grunt as he settles down beside you. Resting against his solid form, you're enveloped in a unique comfort only he can provide, afterall, it’s not everyday someone gets with a bear. Twirling the flower wreath you've been weaving, you muse, "I'm considering changing these to yellow blossoms, what do you think?" You glance at him, your look soft and affectionate as he cocks his head, ears perked, you know his bearish confusion was a silent compliment to your creation.
Your laughter is light as your fingers trace the fur between his eyes. "Yellow's quite the neutral choice," Halsin watches you, his gaze intent, absorbing every word you speak, “Hmm, or maybe I should do white instead, but that’s just- no. That’s a terrible idea.” He continues to listen, studying your expression intently, as if trying to decipher the message behind your words.
“If it's a boy," you continue, your eyes lingering on the wreath, "I don't think he'd appreciate all these shades of pink." Your gaze meets Halsin's, a playful glimmer in your eyes. "And if it's a girl, well, pink seems to be the only answer. But how am I supposed to know? I'm no seer." You raise an eyebrow, your eyes searching his face. Suddenly, his wide brown eyes illuminate, and in a burst of radiant energy, Halsin stands before you, transformed back into his glorious elven body. "Is it true? You spoke of the truth just now?" he asks, his voice filled with awe and excitement.
Joining him in standing, a smile spreads across your face, and you nod, uttering the words he longed to hear, "It's true, my love." Unable to contain his joy, Halsin bursts into laughter, engulfing you in his arms as he spins you around, expressing his elation in that moment of pure bliss.
Halsin's laughter fills the forest as he spins you around, his joy palpable in the warm embrace. "By the Great Oak Father!" he exclaims, his eyes shining with happiness. You both come to a stop, and Halsin cups your face in his hands, his expression overflowing with love. "Our love, our bond, will be forever sealed in this precious life."
The forest and flowers around you seemed to come alive with vibrant colors, the gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of the blooms. It feels as if though nature is celebrating alongside you.
As the initial rush of excitement settles, Halsin lowers himself to one knee, holding your hand close to him. "My heart, I promise to be there for you and our child every step of the way. I will protect and cherish both of you with all that I am."
Tears of joy well up in your eyes as you meet his gaze. "And I promise to stand by your side, Halsin, as I always have.”
Halsin's grin widens as he rises from his knee, his eyes never leaving yours. "I have no doubt that we will raise a child who embodies both the strength of the wild and the wisdom of the druids. They will be surrounded by love, nature, and the embrace of the elements."
With hearts filled with excitement and anticipation, you and Halsin spend the rest of the day in the forest, basking in the joy of your upcoming journey as parents. As the sun sets, casting a mesmerizing glow across the landscape, you can't help but feel an incredible sense of gratitude for the life growing within you and the love that binds you both together.
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sepublic · 8 months
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Interesting that pop culture portrays Van Helsing as an experienced, seasoned vampire hunter, when it's pretty clear in the novel that this is his first go around with the whole thing, his first confirmation they actually exist, and in other words he's basically winging it and hasn't necessarily thrown a punch in his entire life (Which means he can’t just throw hands with Dracula, he needs research and backup to organize the perfect trap where they won’t be instantly killed). VH doesn’t always know what’s going on, he’s figuring things as he goes along; Like yeah he's HEARD of vampires, but it's never been anything prominent to him.
If anything, his past with vampires is probably similar to a lot of readers; Familiar with the concept, knows some of the details but not all of them, and definitely presumes them fake. He sees something going on with his patient and is like Haha damn that's just like a vampire, wouldn't it be crazy if... And then he slowly starts settling into conspiracy theory mode when more and more dots show up to conveniently connect, as he does the obligatory Protagonist Searching Stuff Up bit and realizes Mein Gott!!! It might be a vampire!!!
But then at the last second VH reminds himself, Now hold on, have I actually SEEN this vampire??? But it won't do anyone harm if I added some garlic flowers, right...? And then it just gradually escalates from there into full-on paranoia and dread that vampires exist and VH needs to desecrate the dead, and then he finally gets confirmation when he sees an Undead Lucy. What the fuck.
I think there's an argument to be made that Van Helsing was doubting himself just as much as Seward and the others initially did, if not more so, and he can’t even talk to anyone about it; So there’s an elation where you finally talk to others and realize it’s really happening, you’re not crazy.
This just ties into the theme of recording that which you did see, which is indisputable, because it’s evidence and proof. So you can be certain you aren't totally insane, and can distinguish facts from assumptions and theories if necessary; Especially when one needs to consider other explanations for the same symptoms. There’s a relief confirming what is and isn’t real to dispel self-doubt, like there was for Jonathan, who also suffered from Dracula’s gaslighting distorting his perception of reality.
I think all of this makes Van Helsing's actions and secrecy a lot more understandable when handling Lucy; If you hired a doctor and he suddenly started bringing up vampires, you might be inclined to think he's insane, doesn't know what he's talking about, and has read too many vampire stories and probably believes in 'alternative' medicine. Van Helsing still has an image and reputation to uphold here, and if it's gone, he can't actually be there to help Lucy if he turns out to be right.
That isn't to say he isn't without critique, especially in later portions of the novel, but you can kinda see where this underdog stance of "I'm right and the others around me are wrong" gets vindicated and thus develops into a bit of arrogance later down the line; Particularly, in presuming his disagreements with Mina to be no different than his secrecy with Seward and Mrs. Westenra.
In the end, VH could be described as a character who wonders if he's in the novel Dracula (compared to Jonathan who knows he's in a horror story of some kind but can't name the genre), but then has to remind himself this is reality... If this is a story, it’s probably just some medical drama. And when VH does accept he's in the novel Dracula, he assumes his character development and the lessons he learns are straightforward.
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virginsexgod69 · 1 month
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❝ Proud of You ❞
Pairing Professor! Rick Grimes x F! Student! Reader
summary Rick comforts you after finding out your biggest fear is disappointing him.
cw teacher - student relationship, power imbalance, age gap, crying, making out, riding, unprotected p in v, emotional hurt/comfort, pet names, 3rd person pov
1.1k words
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 She nervously chewed on the cap of her pen. She knew she was fucked the moment she walked into Professor Grimes' classroom. She regretted every minute she spent doing anything but study for this damn test. Failing the test, however, was the least of her worries- it was disappointing her professor that she was the most worried about. She blinked back tears as she tried her best to answer questions about unstudied materials. 
 Once the other students had filed out the classroom and she was the only one left, she grabbed her sorry excuse of a test and approached his desk. Her tear filled eyes and quivering lips didn't go unnoticed by him. 
"What's the matter?" he asked after collecting her test and putting it in a neat stack with the others. 
"I fai-" her words got caught in the lump clogging her throat. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt as she attempted to blink back her tears. 
"I failed!" she was finally able to say. But that admission broke the dam and sent hot, salty tears streaming down her face. 
"Hey, hey, don't cry, sweetheart," he soothed as he grabbed her hand and guided her to sit on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He stroked her back and hushed her as her tears saturated his crisp, white button up shirt. 
"You're a good girl with good grades. This won' mess up your grade too bad," he reassured. She sat up and he wiped her tears away with his thumb as she sniffled.
"Th-that's not what I'm worried about," she confessed. 
"Well, then, wha's the problem?" 
Her chin and lips started quivering again as new tears formed. "Y-you're gonna b-be," she took a stuttering breath, "disappointedinme!" She buried her face in his shoulder again as she sobbed even harder this time. He soothed her until her sobbing dwindled down into little whimpers. 
"I ain' disappointed in ya. Everyone messes up," he reassured. She sat up and looked at him, mascara tears streaked down her pretty face. It broke his heart to see his star pupil in such a state. 
"N-not me! I never m-mess up!" Fresh tears filled her eyes again, but before she could bury her face in his shoulder again, he cupped her cheek in his hand and swiped her tears away with his thumb. 
"Sweetheart, look at me," he commanded. She couldn't look him in the eyes, not after this. It's one thing to absolutely bomb a test, but another to embarrass herself by being a sorry mess like this was something she doubted she'd ever come back from. 
"Didn't I jus' tell you to do something?" he said more sternly this time. Her eyes snapped up to his, fearing disappointing him even more. Even though it was hard to hold eye contact, she didn't let hers waver and neither did he. She didn't see anything resembling disappointment in his eyes. In fact, he was looking at her so softly. 
"You're r-really not disappointed in m-me?" she muttered. 
"Didn't I jus' tell you that?" he teased, earning a small smile from the pretty girl in his lap for the first time all day. She wrapped her arms around him, but this time instead of crying, she pulled him in for a kiss. He reciprocated with fervor, slipping his tongue between her soft, glossy lips. Without breaking the kiss, she readjusted herself to straddle his hips, sitting right on top of his bulge. His hands slid up her thighs, creeping beneath her short skirt, and cupped her ass in his hands. She giggled against his mouth, a sound he was elated to hear after all her sobbing. 
"I'm gonna make you proud, Professor Grimes," she whispered against his lips. 
"Oh? How's that?" he asked. She already made him proud, but playing into her games wouldn't hurt. She ground down on his hardening cock, earning a breathy moan from him. 
"The door's not locked," he warned. 
"Then I'll make this quick." She undid his belt and unzipped his pants with quickness. Once his hard cock was no longer restricted by its confines, she stroked it a few times causing precum to bubble at the tip. Moving her panties aside, she lined him up with her entrance before sinking down. Rick Grimes was well endowed, so the stretch stung each time. 
"Y'alright, sweetheart?" he asked. Her only response was pressing kisses to his jaw and neck as she undid his tie. His hands reluctantly stopped kneading her ass and instead helped pull her shirt over her head once she was done unbuttoning his. Her hands grasped his shoulders once she was ready to move again, and used them for support as she lifted herself off him, until only the tip was inside then dropped herself back down. His big dick filled her so good that the outline of it could be seen through her stomach. Rick's head lolled back as he moaned in pleasure, his grip on her hips almost bruising her soft skin. She squeezed him with her velvety walls, feeling ridge his veins provided.
"Feel so good, baby," he groaned as his student bounced on his cock. His hands traversed up her body, until they reached her bra. He unclasped the pesky thing and tossed it aside, releasing her breasts so he could watch the fleshy mounds bounce as she rode him. He took her nipples- hardened by the air conditioning blasting in the room- and pinched them between his index fingers and thumbs.
"Oh my god, Professor Grimes," she moaned out. Her calling him Professor Grimes during sex always did something to him. His cock twitched inside of her, his release not far.
"I'm 'bout to cum," she warned. He could tell by the way her rhythm became sloppy and the way she squeezed him.
"I know, baby, me too," he said before taking a breast into his mouth, nipping at and sucking on the nipple. His hand slid beneath her skirt and began rubbing the bundle of nerves through her panties. She screamed his name as she came, seeing stars as she did. Rick came too, his hot loads of cum filling up her sweet cunt as he threw his head back in ecstasy, guttural moans erupting from him. He continued to rub her clit until she came down from her orgasmic high. When she did, she slumped over onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, pressing a kiss to her slightly sweaty hairline. 
"Did I make you proud?" she asked. 
She felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. 
"Always been proud of you, darlin'." 
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would i even be who i am if i proofread this?
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hgfictionwriter · 1 month
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Gravity
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie was the love of your life. And you'd like to think you were hers. Even if you can't be together, life gives you moments where you find one another again.
Warnings: Angst. Smut. Longing, passionate sex. Cheating.
A/N: I know angst wasn't high on the poll, but I did get a couple of asks for it and sometimes I'm just drawn to it!
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"Any interest in grabbing coffee this weekend? I'm in town for a tournament."
You exhaled wearily as you read the message from Jessie. There was a time when seeing her name on your phone would've fill you with elation and bring a smile instantly to your face. Those days were gone.
There were many times you swore you were going to block her number, but you could never bring yourself to do it, or truly, get anywhere close to it. Years had passed and she still had a hold on you. And seeing as she messaged without fail anytime she was in town - and on birthdays, and Christmas, and milestones - perhaps you still had a hold on her.
She'd been the love of your life once. Maybe she still was. But her career had taken her around the globe and from your embrace. She'd loved you deeply, too, you never doubted that. She'd pleaded with you to come with her, but you couldn't leave. You had too much here and if you left solely for her, no matter how much she meant to you, you'd lose yourself and it'd ruin you both.
So while she climbed podiums and lifted trophies, you stayed. You tried to move on. You were seeing someone now, in fact. Not the first and not the last. But anytime Jessie came to town, your life as is now always faded away and you let her back in. And it wasn't that you didn't care for your girlfriends, it was simply the fact that this was Jessie, and nobody could compare.
Your insides churned, your conscience trying desperately to hold you on moral ground, but memories of Jessie flashed through your mind and suddenly you missed her so much it hurt.
"Sure. When are you free?"
-------
It was never just coffee.
True, you caught up. You heard about her latest competitions, the team, her family, new hobbies, and she was equally curious about you - your work, how was your family, your friends, were you sleeping enough.
You purposefully didn't mention your girlfriend, and if she had anyone, she didn't mention them either.
"Do you have plans after this?" She asked, looking up at you through her eyelashes before refocusing on her cup, which she idly played with.
"No. What about you?" She looked back up at you and the feeling inside of you was instant.
"No. Evening's free to do whatever." You held each other's gaze. "I've missed you," she confessed in a quiet voice, gaze unwavering.
You gave a subtle shake of your head as a bittersweet smile crossed your lips. "I've missed you, too." She exhaled, you weren't sure if it was relief or regret. Regardless, she sat back and spoke again.
"Want to go for a walk?"
You nodded.
You both knew you were going to the park to your bench without saying a word about it. You ignored how your arms brushed against one another's as you walked. When you reached the bench, you sat down together, far too close.
She talked and though you listened, you couldn't help but think back to how you used to go to this park on dates. You'd sit on this bench and she'd retrieve snacks she'd packed for you both. You'd kiss her between bites and you swore you were looking at your future wife.
You were pulled back to the present as her fingers brushed against yours. As always, you didn't pull away. Instead, you laced your pinkies together and looked over at her.
"Do you have your own room?"
Her expression faltered briefly, realization as to why you couldn't go back to your place hitting her. She recovered swiftly and gave a faint smile.
"Being captain has its perks."
--------
Her door clicked open and you collided into one another, falling through the doorway in a hungry kiss and a desperate embrace. You pressed her against the wall hard, but kissed her harder, your arms wrapping around the back of her neck as her hands wandered over you in a needy frenzy.
"I missed you so much," you whispered. She was already starting to lift your shirt over your head and you had no desire to stop her.
"I missed you too," she returned as she started to kiss down your chest and unbutton your jeans. "I was so happy when I learned we were playing here. I've been thinking of you non-stop."
You sighed contentedly as you started undressing her as well. It didn't matter how many times you saw her undressed, she still took your breath away. However, seeing each other as infrequently as you did, it was obvious to you how much more toned and defined she'd become over the years. She was truly a sight to behold.
Soon she was kissing you and pushing you further into the room. You bumped into the desk, the lamp and other items rattling as you did so, but it didn't deter either of you and instead she lifted you onto the surface.
"I dream of you," she said in reverie as you spread your legs for her and her fingers immediately nestled themselves between your folds, thoroughly slick with your arousal for her. You wrapped your arm around the back of her flexed shoulders and tilted your hips towards her. She smiled at the invitation.
"I want you inside," you told her. You were aching for her. "I've been waiting too long."
A subtle gasp fell from both your mouths as she wasted no time and sunk into you to her knuckles. Her knees gave slightly as you enveloped her tightly in your warmth. She rolled her head against yours.
"Oh God, it's been way too long."
"I need you, Jess," you told her and she locked eyes with you. She obliged you immediately, withdrawing to the tips of her fingers before plunging back in. Your head fell back and she began to devour your neck and pump in and out of you.
"Fuck me," you said and she clutched you tighter to her.
"You know this isn't just fucking." She corrected you, her voice firm as she urged you to look at her. When you did, you saw that familiar intensity and longing. You worried one day you wouldn't see the emotion behind her eyes, but for now, you did.
A mixture of sounds soon filled the room. Gasping breaths, moans, the rattling of items being jostled on the desk, and her thrusting in and out of you to the hilt.
At one point, Jessie stopped to pick you up and carry you to the bed, laying you down near the edge and climbing on top of you, entering you easily once more. Your mouth fell open as she filled you again and you wrapped your legs around her.
You were rising steadily towards your climax as she pumped into you, the bed shifting under the force of her thrusts. She had an arm under your back and clutching your shoulder, holding you close to her. Her fingers dug into your skin almost painfully, but you invited it nonetheless.
"I miss you all the time," Jessie whispered as she fingers curled into you further.
"I miss you, too," you told her, ignoring how suddenly you began to feel an all too familiar stinging behind your eyes. "I can't forget about you. Or us." She held you even tighter and her strokes become somehow deeper and stronger.
The proclamations from either of you weren't new, but they hurt just the same. When you weren't with her, it was a like a low, dull pain - one that eventually you could ignore in its constancy. Being with her again though, brought that pain anew - a fresh wound that burned and ached in her absence until it grew dormant once more. Then she'd text. And the cycle would start again.
She was inevitable. But you didn't want to let her go.
A cry fell from your lips as she brought you over the edge. She rocked into you and whispered sweet nothings tenderly in your ear. When she eventually pulled back to look at you, the glistening sheen of her eyes wasn't lost on you. You kissed her sweetly.
"I love you," you told her as you cupped her cheek. She smiled, her lip trembling just so and her eyes glistened more.
"I love you, too."
You pulled her down into another kiss, your fingers now in her hair and you shifted your weight to roll you both, now Jessie on her back. She looked up at you with the same love and adoration she always had.
Life wasn't fair. But it was merciful at times.
You began kissing down her body, taking your time as you reacquainted yourself with her subtle curves and definitions. Eventually, you took a step off the bed to kneel in front of her.
She moaned pre-emptively and you smirked at how she ran her hand through her hair.
"You know I miss the way you taste," you said as you began kissing your way up her thighs. Again, she moaned deep in her chest.
You inhaled her scent and a shiver of anticipation went through you. You hooked your arms underneath her legs and leaned in, laying your tongue flat against her core before trailing upwards with a light flick of the tip of your tongue. She shuddered and gripped the sheets in her hands.
You dipped your tongue into her entrance and couldn't hold back a moan at how she tightened around you. You began to trace up and down her folds, pulling them into your mouth now and then and suckling lightly.
She moaned and writhed on the bed and you reached out to grasp one of her hands. She clutched you tightly.
Done with your teasing, you leaned in and began to lap at her. A loud groan fell from her mouth and she bucked her hips up into your face. You pushed her back down and began to flick your tongue over her clit.
"Oh my God," she panted as she ground her hips into the bed and then up into your face. You smiled into her with appreciation and began to suck on her clit as you traced a finger around her entrance.
"Oh God," she repeated, bringing her hands up to cover her face now as you teased her. You ran your fingers through her wet folds, getting your fingers slick with her arousal before you sank your fingers into her.
"Y/N." Your name fell from her lips in a strangled moan as she tensed up, her hands now balled into her fists against her eyes.
"I love you, Jessie," you said before pulling her clit into your mouth once more and slowly, deeply pushing in and out of her.
"Oh fuck," her voice was tight and shaky. She took a few sharp breaths before reaching down blindly, palming at the bed and looking for your free hand. You grasped her hand and she gripped you desperately.
Your name was on her lips again as she rocked her hips up into you and you served her unwaveringly. You wanted her to know that she was the only one on your mind. You wanted her to know that it was different when you did this for her. It was special. She was special.
Eventually, her hips began to buck erratically against you and you felt her tighten around your fingers. You adored how you felt a rush of her juices run down your chin.
You gave her a few moments even after you felt her relax into the bed. Even though her body had grown listless, her hand still gripped yours and you didn't let it go as you climbed back onto the bed to lay with her.
You held each other for what felt like ages. You wanted to stay like this for as long as possible, but you were both torn from your private world when your phone began buzzing across the room.
She inhaled deeply, your head rising on her shoulder as she did so.
"I guess you have to go?" Though she tried to keep her tone even, the lament in her voice was evident.
You tucked your head into her chest and pulled her closer. "I don't want to."
She embraced you tightly and kissed the top of your head.
"I don't want you to either."
Eventually, the buzzing stopped. Although neither of you had moved, the reverie had been broken as reality continued to encroach on you.
"I won't be playing forever, you know," she eventually said, her voice small now.
You nodded against her. As much as it was true, it was a fantasy that you couldn't let yourself indulge in.
"Do you know when you'll be back?" You asked, already knowing the answer. She shook her head with an inaudible sigh.
"Call me when you do come back," you said quietly as you lay a lingering kiss on her chest. She pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head once more.
"I'll be counting the days."
————
A/N: Part Two is available here.
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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months
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Midnight Zone
Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 608 WC
Masterlist
Warnings: Astarion being doubtful, fluffffffff
“How deep do you think it goes?” Karlach asked, shaking the last of some spider webs off her boots. 
“One way to find out.” You smiled. You rummaged through your bag finally finding your scroll of feather fall. Casting it quickly, an elated yip escaped you as you jumped into the crevice in the center of the Whispering Depths. You fell for ages, admiring the glowing crystals that passed you slowly. You giggled as the fall continued, feeling a moment of reprieve, of happiness as they were rare to come by lately. When your feet hit the ground, you stumbled a bit before regaining your footing. The others landed by you shortly after.
“I think we’ve all had enough for one day, let’s set up camp.” Shadowheart said, walking ahead with everyone else while you lingered back. 
You didn’t notice Astarion had stayed behind with you until he gently soothed his hand over the small of your back. “Dreary, isn’t it?” He said looking around in disgust.
“What?” You said, finally ripping your eyes away from the beauty that surrounded you. “I think this has to be the most amazing place I’ve ever seen.” You said, looking in his eyes.
“You can’t possibly be serious.” he asked, his eyes searching your face trying to find why you’d say such a thing.
“Truth be told, I’ve always preferred the dark. And it isn’t exactly dark down here… look at all the life around us. Wonderful and weird, just how I like it.” you giggled at him. He looked shocked but couldn’t hear any deception from you. 
“If I can’t find a way to stay in the sun after this tadpole situation… I’ll have to live down here… In the dark… Alone.” his voice trailed off, sadly.
You whipped your head to him, “Who said you’d be alone?”
“Darling, I cannot ask that of you…” he laced his fingers through yours.
“It’s a good thing I want to then, isn’t it?” you kissed his cheeks, “Astarion, my love, I can go to the surface if I ever miss the sun. What I cannot do, is live without you. I won’t. You are stuck with me.” you nudged his chin up, trying to lighten his mood. 
“Are you sure? Life down here comes with… difficulties.” he nodded towards the different mushrooms around and the myconid colony off in the distance. 
“Where have we gone that hasn’t had difficulties? Trouble follows you my love, you’ll need my protection.” Astarion laughed at your quip, he pushed you back softly, feigning offense. 
“Lest I remind you of all the times I’ve saved your head from a spike?” he said with his typical snark.
“Lest I remind you?” you said back, holding his hand and pulling him towards camp. He rolled his eyes, trailing after you. 
At the edge of camp he yanked you softly, pulling you back to his chest. You smiled at him, enjoying when his playful side came out. He stared at you, his forehead slowly leaning in to rest against yours. “How refreshing…” he whispered.
“What?” you said, furrowing your eyebrows.
“To know that I won't endure eternity alone… to know that I will be loved.” he kissed you, it was gentle but you could feel his emotions behind it. Relief. Excitement. Happiness. 
You kissed him back, trying to get as close to him as possible. “Eternity saving you from spikes and daggers? Sounds like a lot of grunt work…” you joked.
He laughed before nipping your lip and pulling you into a much hungrier kiss, “I like to think I’m worth it.”
“Definitely.” you kissed him back with equal fervor. 
------------------------
Naboo's Note:
Hey! Last drabble of the week, I'm going to try and write a longer work soon, I know these little bite sized fits aren't for everyone and some would prefer lengthy pieces. I'd love some requests to get the motivation mill going. I hope y'all enjoy; as always - thank you for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. Ilysm xoxoxoxo!!
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I've been dreaming of the Ruler of the Abyss.
Kneel to the Thorn Fairy, who shall make manifest one’s dreams—the wishes made by the heart.
He promises happy endings for all. Woe to those who doubt and defy his vision.
How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?
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Alone.
He has always been alone.
But alone he is no longer—not when he is in his castle, surrounded by hordes of his people. He will never be alone again. No one will, all thanks to his efforts.
Never, never, never.
Malleus easily traverses the thorn-crusted lounge, floating across them like a specter. The bodies of school staff and fellow students lie limp in chairs and couches. Eyes closed, chests rising and falling rhythmically.
As he passes, he runs a hand along their scalps. Brushing their hair, patting their heads. Tender touches wishing them well.
Here is a king's domain, and here are his subjects. He, the dragon guarding his trove of invaluable treasures.
Malleus turns to face his captive audience, arms spread out toward them. “Today is something of a special occasion: Night Raven College’s Founding. I do believe this warrants a celebration—and, of course, all are invited to the festivities.”
A wave of magic washes over the room. Conical party hats manifest on each person's head, decorations appearing from thin air. Banners drape across the walls, streamers spill from black-clothed tables laden with food, and balloons tuck into the corners, safe from the needle-like thorns.
He projects applause, stunned oohs and aahs. Here, he is not a monster, but fellow man.
"Hmm, we're still missing something." Malleus strokes his chin, deep in thought. He snaps his fingers. "Ah, that's it! Music. It's not a proper party without any music."
With the wave of his hand, he summons a series of floating instruments. Bass, cello, viola, violin, harp, each bathed in an eerie green glow. They start playing by themselves, as if being handled by skillful, invisible hands.
Soft orchestral song fills the venue.
The guests rise, puppeted by the strings of his magic. Thorns on the floor retreat, allowing his peers to spill over onto the area repurposed for dance. Heads loll over--Malleus frowns and fixes them.
"There we are."
A glittering assemblage.
He smoothly conducts the bodies into neat pairs.
A waltz, he thinks, is ideal. It is also one of the few forms of dance he is familiar with. A waltz it shall be.
Palms link, fingers intertwine. Hands upon shoulders and upon backs. And then they are set to the hypnotic swing of the music, slow and sweet and intoxicating, like a steady drip of honey into one's mouth.
Malleus threads past the avid dancers and to the one person that has not been matched. The little bat who had almost flown away, far out of his grasp.
"Lilia," Malleus breathes raptly, "look at how happy everyone is. No one was left out. No one was forgotten. No one has to be alone anymore."
With this gift... my blessing... I've protected their smiles.
The duty of any Draconia.
He's proud--elated--but Lilia, alas, does not share the sentiment. Instead, the ancient fae wears a placid expression, eyes sewn shut. The same as all the other guests.
Malleus chuckles. No one hears it but himself.
"How exciting your dream must be. Action and adventure, at the best of your strength... I'm afraid this humble gathering cannot compare."
He’s sure Lilia would agree with him, were he awake.
“Never mind that," Malleus says, dispelling the thought. No more what ifs, only there ares. "Would you care for food? You'll need to keep your energy up for the celebration--it just may last all night."
He beckons with a finger, and a platter with a large cake hovers over. It is an extravagant seven layers, each a different flavor. Details are piped on in buttercream icing, invoking the image of each dormitory. A chocolate raven, wings open and prepared for flight, crowns the dessert.
A cake knife slides into Lilia's hand. His fingers slowly closer around the handle. With Malleus's guidance, he cuts into the topmost layer--Diasomnia--of the cake.
Something thick, red, and sticky leaks from the insides. The knife is coated as it is pulled back, freeing a slice. The violet crumb is fine, the frosting neon green with a dark chocolate drip.
Devilishly decadent.
"Come, you must try this," Malleus insists, stabbing a fork into the cake. He stuffs the bite into Lilia's mouth--but it doesn't stay, just rolls out and lands with a squishy splat on the ground.
Malleus eagerly waits for Lilia to beam at him, to praise him for its deliciousness.
It never comes.
Malleus laughs as though Lilia has responded as he imagines him to. He's drunk with delirium.
The strings abruptly screech, the dancers ceasing in their revelry.
He lets the unfinished slice fall. The plate shatters, reflecting one hundred Malleuses, one hundred Lilias. So many realities, and yet this is the one he has been dealt.
He guides the corners of Lilia's mouth upward, forcing a smile.
"Happy Night Raven College Founding Day," Malleus whispers, "and may you all have the sweetest of slumbers."
To his guests, to Lilia, to himself. And to the world that will soon be joining them in this delightful, never-ending dream.
Raising a hand, he unleashes fireworks from his palm. They explode in wild shapes and colors, emitting warmth and dazzling lights. The display is beautiful but fleeting--long shadows running along the walls before they blip out of existence and return to the darkness.
Every dream is like a firework, he surmises. A fiery flower frozen in time at the height of its bloom. They shall never wither nor fade.
Malleus reclines into his seat--a spiked and scaled throne, mounted high above the party venue. A lone king, untouchable.
Seated upon a mountain of lies, he looks out at his twisted kingdom. It’s a scene of his own creation, props lovingly places and toys carefully posed, acting out situations in his head.
The average school day at Night Raven College: students bickering, teachers watching over them. They see him, smile and wave. Talk with him, invite him.
Stay with him.
A loop playing, forever and ever.
Malleus sighs contentedly.
This is his happily ever after—from now until the end of eternity.
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verstappensrealwife · 3 months
Text
Off Track Desire - Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader
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smut, fluff.
approx. 1100 words.
warnings: SEX, p in v, oral (fem receiving), swearing.
oscar piastri masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.
As the anticipation mounted before the exhilarating sprint race in Qatar, you playfully bantered with your friend, Oscar Piastri, teasing that if he emerged victorious, you'd indulge in a more intimate form of celebration. Little did you anticipate that his performance would exceed al yourl expectations, but you found yourself not at all dismayed by the outcome of your playful wager.
With each rev of the engine, he poured his heart and soul into the race, his determination fueled not only by the pursuit of victory but also by the unspoken attraction between you both—a truth acknowledged by him, you, and the discerning eyes of Formula One enthusiasts worldwide.
Though he had openly expressed his desires, he opted instead to wait for the perfect opportune moment; it seemed that the chequered flag marked the perfect culmination of his ambitions.
As he soared past the finish line at breakneck speed, your jubilant cheers echoed through the air, a testament to the pride and elation swelling within you.
“Very nicely done everyone,” Oscar said in his radio, “Thank you, very much. Very Very well managed and uhh, yes, tell Y/N I still expect the gift she promised me.” He finished before the radio crackled. 
With the race behind him, Oscar emerged from his car, the visor of his helmet lifted to reveal a visage glistening with sweat—a detail inconsequential in the face of your overwhelming admiration. Rushing into his embrace, you held him close, your heart brimming with pride and affection.
"I am beyond proud of you, Osc!" you exclaimed amidst the cacophony of cheering fans, your words a testament to the depth of your admiration.
A mischievous twinkle danced in his eyes as he playfully inquired, "So, am I still entitled to my reward?" Though delivered in jest, the underlying sincerity in his tone left no room for doubt.
Your cheeks flushed with a vibrant crimson hue as you stumbled over your words, "I- Yes," the embarrassment evident in your voice, eliciting a smirk from him.
"I’ll see you later then, yeah?" he remarked, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. Your response was a silent nod, your mind still reeling from the exchange. "Oh, and wear something pretty for me," he added with a suggestive tone.
As the heat of your blush persisted, you could only manage a wordless acknowledgment, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of what lay ahead.
Later that night, he arrived at your hotel room, rapping his knuckles against the door before you welcomed him in. His eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight before him. Clad in daring red and black lace that left little to the imagination.
With a swift motion, he shut the door behind him, his hand finding the nape of your neck, pulling you into a fervent kiss. Your breath hitched as his lips claimed yours, igniting a fire within you. The room was cast in shadows, the soft glow of the bathroom light providing the only illumination, while the moon's gentle rays filtered through the curtains. The king-sized bed, draped in delicate pink sheets provided by the hotel, awaited your passionate embrace.
"God, I would've killed to see you like this a few months ago," he murmured, his urgency palpable as he guided you towards the bed, his desire undeniable.
"What's the hurry?" you teased, a playful glint in your eye. "I'm all yours."
Pressed against the wall, his hands firmly gripping your hips, you could feel his arousal pressing against you. His lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine as he nibbled just below your ear. "Tell me what you want me to do," he whispered huskily.
"You tell me," you moaned in response.
Before you knew it, you found yourself seated on the edge of the bed, his head buried between your thighs, his expert tongue sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Gripping his hair, you guided him, relishing in his every touch and groan.
After reaching the pinnacle of ecstasy once, twice, three times, he rose to his feet, shedding his clothes with haste. "Let me know if I'm too much," he breathed, his eyes ablaze with desire.
Propped against the pillows, you welcomed him, feeling him enter you slowly, eliciting a breathy moan from both of you. Each movement was gentle at first, his kisses sweet and his whispers tender. But soon, his pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more forceful and erratic, with no real rhythm, you love the feeling. His head falls back, abs flexing, satisfied moans falling out as his hips go back and forth. “So fucking good, baby. You’re being so fucking good for me.”
His hips flexed, his words a symphony of passion as you both reached the peak together, your cries of pleasure mingling in the air. "So good," he gasped, his voice trembling with satisfaction, as you surrendered to the intoxicating bliss of the moment.
He tells you how close he is and it pushes you over the edge. Both finishing at the same time, “Fuck- Fuck-Fuck.” his voice cracks a little as he finishes inside of you.
In the serene quietude that followed their passionate union, a gentle calm settled over them, punctuated only by the rhythmic cadence of their intertwined breaths. Lost in the tender reverie of the moment, they found solace in the comforting embrace of each other's arms, their hearts beating in harmonious synchrony.
As the moon cast its soft glow upon the room, Oscar's gaze lingered upon you, his eyes alight with a newfound clarity and determination. With a soft, hesitant breath, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering against your skin.
"Y/N," he began, his voice soft and earnest, "I know we've always danced around it, but… Do you wanna maybe be my girlfriend… like officially."
A flutter of anticipation danced in your chest as you met his gaze, the question hanging in the air between you. With a tender smile, you nodded, your heart overflowing with warmth and affection.
"Yes, Oscar," you whispered, your heart brimming with joy, "I'd love to."
A flicker of relief and joy danced in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken promise of affection.
el fin.
still cant write smut too well. im working on it shhh
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weaveandwood · 24 days
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Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Three
Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read Part One | Read Part Two | Read on AO3
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Summary:
Over a year after their relationship ends, fate brings the couple back together for one too-short night.
The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them. I can’t do this. 
AN: The final installment is here! Thank everyone so much for all your support on this mini series. I hope you love it as much as I do, and I'm sorry for ripping out your hearts along the way. CN: Suggestive language, mild descriptions of panic
The first Midwinter was spent in reverence of each other. They watched the annual fireworks from his balcony and stayed up until the dawn began its ascent over the horizon. Hours were spent relearning each other’s bodies and minds after being strangers for so long. She spoke of her jobs, the contracts she accepted, the locations she visited as he kissed her neck in that one spot that was her undoing and his hands worked his way up her thighs. He spoke of his apprentices, new spells he was crafting, his colleagues turned friends while she kissed the faint remnants of the orb tattoo on his chest, her hand trailing down the line of his stomach. He worshiped her throughout the night and she accepted his offerings gladly.
While the sun rose, she lay in his arms, head on his bare chest as they made plans to spend next Midwinter together. 
Dangerous. Tempting. Stupid.
He cast an illusion to make it snow in what used to be the bedroom they shared, just to see the smile on her face that would no doubt satisfy him for another year. She kept the longing she had to stay with him locked away deep inside, remembering the tormented look on his face the previous night when he ran to her. She couldn’t be the cause of that again, she didn’t trust herself with his heart.
They both wept after they parted. 
**
The second Midwinter, they met in the market - the first time Gale had been in almost two years. They got sweet rolls and held hands as they walked to the inn he reserved for them this holiday. They barely got into the room before their bodies collided and their clothes ended up in a wrinkled pile on the floor, not wanting an inch of space to come between them on their one, too-short night together where she was his and he was hers, though both confessed there was no one else during their time apart. 
She asked for another illusion as he traced his fingers up and down her bare back, the muscles and small scars from so many adventures illuminated by the moonlight. He made the room fill with small glowing rabbits, her favorite animal. 
“You remembered.” “How could I ever forget anything about you?”
He gifted her a sending stone that was modified to only relay a signal when the pair were within a certain distance from each other, so he would know she was near, that she was safe at least one day a year. He kept its partner with him at all times - if not in his pocket, then within arm’s reach, counting down the days until he could feel the trace hum of magic that said she was close, that she was coming back to him. She always kept the stone in her pack or under her pillow as she slept in the wilds and reminisced about stolen moments in tents with him. 
***
The third Midwinter, the sending stone in his pocket flickered to life a day earlier than expected, before the sunrise. He met her at the gates of the city full of concern, but she relieved his fears by explaining she had extra time this year and could stay this additional day, if he wanted. Of course he wanted! He was elated as they walked back to the tower, but had to finish up the term today. He kissed her deeply and promised to be back by sunset, a familiar line she had heard plenty before.
Hours ticked by in quiet solitude. The walls of the tower closed in on her and the sounds of the city aggravated instead of soothed. The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them.
I can’t do this. 
The day had completely gotten away from him - he didn’t realize how late it had become as he rushed home after a long day of examinations and meetings with fellow professors. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of spending two nights with the love of his life, lost in memory and passion. 
He called out to her as he walked in, receiving no response. The tower was empty. His breathing quickened as he collapsed against the wall in the entry, sinking to the floor. A cold panic took over as he found himself alone, reliving that first day all those years ago. He ran his shaking hands through his hair, looking for a note, a sign, anything…and found no trace of her. 
She’s not here.
She didn’t come back that night. The next morning, he ignored the faint buzzing from the stone as he walked to Blackstaff to finish some paperwork before properly starting his holiday as he did every year, though this year it was more of a distraction than anything. He came home late to find a package on his doorstep - a small silver moon earring to wear in the empty piercing where Mystra’s symbol used to reside with a note that read “Be a moon unto yourself.” He could feel her watching but went inside anyway. He tucked the parcel in the same drawer with her ring and extinguished all the lights in his tower, wearily retreating to his study. 
She sat across the street from the tower huddled in her coat, crying through the fireworks until the early morning. Something broke inside her that night, deeper than what already was fractured. 
I’m sorry. 
****
The fourth Midwinter, he received a delivery at his office in Blackstaff Academy. Inside was a sending stone, almost exactly like the one he had gotten her two years ago. His heart beat faster - was she returning it? Was this goodbye? Had the last Midwinter ruined them? They hadn’t spoken but at times he felt his original stone humming, knowing she was near Waterdeep on a few occasions over the last year, resisting the urge to go to the gates each time for a glimpse of her. 
He felt the familiar crackle of magic as he inspected the parcel. No, this one is a different stone, he thought with relief, hearing her voice when he touched it for the first time.
I love you. I’m here. Meet me outside of the city if you can forgive me.
His eyes filled with tears, replying with the only message he could ever respond to her with.
I love you.
She smiled to herself as she heard his warm voice in her head. I love you. It was the first time they had said it to each other in so long - even before she had left him. A flicker of hope surged within her. She met him at the gates as the sun set, grabbing his robes and pulling him to her to kiss him deeply before he even had a chance to say hello. There was so much to say, so much to confess, and so little time. She took his hand and led him away from the city, deep into the woods off the main road where she had set up a tent for them, a campfire waiting. He moved to kiss her, to begin their usual dance of removing clothes and grasping at each other to stave off the chill in the air and the loneliness in their hearts. He longed to touch her, to feel himself inside her again. 
She stopped him. 
He listened as she told him about her next adventure on the other side of the continent. How she purchased the new sending stones because she wanted to hear his voice in her head every day when she would be so far from him. How after last Midwinter, she wanted to move forward and not spend every moment together thinking about the hurts of the past. How she realized the irony of her saying that while sitting in a campsite that was reminiscent of the one they shared all those years ago. How she was ready, finally, to offer more and hoped he would accept. 
“I love you, Gale.”  She’s real. “I love you, too.” She’s here.
The Midwinter fireworks from Waterdeep looked especially beautiful that night as they made love underneath them. 
*****
The fifth Midwinter, she met him at the gates of the city, his message that morning running through her head. Meet me at the gates at our usual time. I have a surprise for you. I love you. 
Every day they sent each other a message through the stones. Every first message ended with “I love you.” Every reply started with “I love you.”
He was practically buzzing when he saw her, drawing her tightly into his embrace, just as he did that night five years ago when she came back into his life by a chance of fate - and yes, after that night he most certainly was a bigger believer in fate. She was safe, she was here, and she loved him. He led her to the woods, the same spot she set up their campsite the previous year. In its place was a small cabin surrounded by wildness, enchanted to be invisible to everyone but the two of them. 
He needed her like air, but he refused to suffocate her with that need - not with traditional roles or expectations, not with her always having to adjust to fit into his life, his routine, his schedule, never the other way around. He wanted to fit into her life. She was the moon, she was the stars, she was the sky. She was precious to him, more important to him than even the Weave. He didn’t need anything but her - not his tower, not his accolades…just her. He loved her, and saw her, and understood what she was capable of offering. This cabin, he hoped, would be proof of that, and would be their home when she was between contracts, between adventures. 
She cried as he said all of this to her with tears streaming down his own smiling face. He held out the silver ring he had purchased for her all those years ago. She couldn’t believe he had kept it safe, looked after it as if he knew she would be back. They were different people then. They were different people now. After all this time, he remained devoted to her, steadfast, even as she pushed and pulled, clawing at the boundaries of his love. She believed him - for the first time, she felt understood. She was understood. He knew her, he was safe, he was here, and he loved her. She knew there could never be anyone else for either of them. He was her home. This was her home.
They kissed as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 
******
The sixth Midwinter, Gale found himself looking out the window of their cabin watching the snow while he prepared their dinner for the evening, replaying their messages from that morning in his head. 
I will be home at sunset. Will be with you for a month. I love you.
I love you. Please hurry back to me, I cannot bear to be apart from you much longer.
He laughed softly to himself. Home. If you had asked him five years ago, while he was bereft and reeling, what he thought home was he would have told you a study full of books, a desk littered with parchment, and a full wine cellar. Now? Home was the smile she gave him when he cast illusions. Home was the way she laid her head on his lap when he read to her, no matter the subject. Home was the way she brought him tea and kissed the top of his head as he stayed up late, working on new spells and theories by candlelight. Home was the sound of her voice calling his name as his mouth was between her thighs. Home was a tiny cabin hidden deep in the woods. 
He twirled the silver ring on his own finger, the twin to hers. He had felt the hum of the original sending stone only a few months after their last Midwinter, during Greengrass. He rushed to the cabin after classes were completed for the day, wondering why she hadn’t told him anything through their messaging stones, wondering if the original stones were malfunctioning. He had no sooner opened the door before she pulled him in and kissed him deeply. He led her to the bedroom, both of them shedding layers of clothing along the way as they reunited. Later that evening, she lazily ran her fingers through his hair as the dancing lights he cast hovered over them, lighting the room in a beautiful pale blue glow. 
“Marry me, Gale.”
They were married that week in a small ceremony, only Tara and Morena in attendance, though once word got out, many congratulations poured in from all over the Sword Coast. She had left later that week, and now she was finally coming home. He glanced at the bags he had brought from the tower, full of work and tomes, and contemplated putting them away before he felt his favorite hum of magic in all the world. 
She stood in front of their cabin, looking in through the window at him. Her eyes watered, whether from joy or the wind she couldn’t say, but she’d blame the wind anyway. Four small glowing rabbits hopped around at her feet and led her to the door. 
“Welcome home, my love.”
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jinkookspencil · 3 months
Text
i got you | ksj
back from his service, jin tests out his strength and a theory of his
tags/note: jin x chubby / plus size / curvy reader (f) / fluff + suggestive / established relationship (they're engaged!) / low-key seokjin has soft-dom loving energy here but it doesn't get that steamy
wc: ~1.3k words
description/note: just domestic fluff in the kitchen / spoiler alert for jin's theory: he's sure he can carry his fiance and wants to try it out / no mentions of insecurity on yn's part, she just doubts jin can actually do it / intended with a plus sized woman in mind, but i think you can read and relate even if that doesn't apply to you? as long as you have any doubts that jin can carry you lol / no mentions of idol life, this jin can be whatever you want him to be / they're in the kitchen and jin had been cooking but no other mention of food / i actually wrote a jk version of this first but i will post that second - very soon, it's basically done! i have such a thing for fics based around jin's return i miss him yall / i shared an update post recently detailing where i've been and how i'll be with this blog moving forward! /also, happy valentine's day, here's a lil love from me and jin to my fellow chubby/curvy/plus-sized beauties!! <3 again, jk version coming very sooooooon! / update: jk version available to read here!
The clang of pots and pangs echoing through your apartment warmed your heart. It was an irritating sound when heard regularly, of course, but considering how long it’s been since you’d had your fiance messing about in the kitchen… it was more than welcome. Following the noise, you find Seokjin with his back turned to you, cleaning his used kitchenware and cutlery in the sink and quietly humming a tune. You cursed yourself for not peeking in earlier just to see the man in action - it always was a turn-on seeing Seokjin’s dedicated, sweaty, albeit chaotic cooking. This still did something, though. Hopping onto the freshly cleaned marble-topped kitchen island, you take it all in: the faint smell of something delicious in the oven, the sound of the gushing tap water, more clangs of metal on metal, but you really focus on the man that stood before you. Your man. His adorable growing hair was too short to be long, too awkward to be short. His broad shoulders and new muscles now pressed through his tee instead of his bones. His silver singing voice, even as a gentle whisper, which you hadn’t realized abruptly stopped.
“Drink it in. I’m enjoying this just as much as you are.”
You wonder what gave it away. The sound of your footsteps, the ruffle of your pajama fabric, or perhaps an admiring sigh you hadn’t noticed escaped you. It didn’t matter. You were enjoying the view, surely, but it was even better now when he turned to face you, a shy smile on his face.
“Missed cooking that much?”
“Cooking, yes, I missed being in the kitchen. I don't need to tell you how much I fucking missed your bratty ass, but what I meant was that I am enjoying you. I’m elated I finally have my girl and soon-to-be wife ogling me instead of the men at the base.” He chuckles, turning away and hiding a sudden shyness while drying his hands with a kitchen towel.
“And I'm elated just to be with her... Now that that’s done…” he whispers, undoubtedly ready for what you were with his hands and eyes on your plush thighs, his fingertips toying with the hem of your pajama shorts.
“It’s like you read my mind,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to pull him in for a kiss, only for him to pull away.
That was a first. Since Seokjin was back, at least. The two of you barely kept your hands off of one another….
“Or not…” you ask curiously, cupping his face in your hands. “Seokjin?”
Your fiance silently continues tracing the skin of your plush thighs, squeezing the flesh in his hands. He exhales before doing it once again and finally looking up at you.
You jump from the counter and face him, trying to look into his eyes, but he’s lost in thought. You pull his hand to lead him to the bedroom, but he doesn’t budge.
“Seokjin…?” you ask once again.
“Jump back on the counter for me, love.”
You do.
“Wrap your legs around me, honey.”
“Well, I was going to anyways,” you say, following his orders. “In there…”
“I’ll take you there.”
“What? No!” you shriek, unwrapping your legs from his body.
“Yes, come on, honey,” he says, his voice steady yet soft as he reaches for your leg.
“Seokjin, you cannot carry me,” you say, now pushing him away while he tries to tug you closer.
“Yes, I can,” he insists with a sternness to his voice that reminds you where he’d spent the past 18 months.
“Just because you’re all buff now doesn’t mean you can carry me, stupid. I’m still big, you know?”
“Well, guess who’s also big now? I mean, I always was, of course,” he says with a giggle and a flushed face as he raises his brow and tilts his head downwards, reminding you that he’s still your Seokjin. You promptly roll your eyes with a smile, pinching his arm. He regains his composure in mere seconds, a hand brushing your hair and tilting your face up towards his.
“I will admit that I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it before enlisting, but… I can now, honey. I can.”
“I don’t want you to,” you pout, unable to meet his gaze no matter how intense you knew it was, so knew it was best to shut it down as quickly as possible. Seokjin never forced you to do something you didn’t want to do…
“You.. why not?”
“Because in the case that you try to carry me but then realize you cannot, we could drop to the floor and one or both of us will get hurt. You could get hurt physically since I have padding and you don’t. I’d get hurt mentally, and I’ll be so fucking embarrassed that it was because of my weight.”
“The number of things wrong with that…,” Seokjin tsks, cupping your face and forcing you to look him in the eye. “First of all, I can carry you. Second, muscles are a form of padding, too, idiot.” He pokes your forehead and puts your hand on his shoulders to feel how strong he’d gotten while he takes your soft thigh in his hand. “I can take it, sweetie - all this tells me is I haven’t told you just how much work I did in the service. Third, it’s not because of your weight - nothing ever was. It’d be because I wasn’t strong enough.”
“Seokjin… I don’t know.”
“And you have nothing to be embarrassed about, my love. Ever. I mean… it’s me. I’ve seen and touched you in the most ungodly ways possible, and this would be what would embarrass you? Falling? When I-?”
You shake your head and interrupt him with shushes - nothing he could’ve said would have helped his case. “Can’t we at least put a mattress down or something? In case we fall?”
“Babe, this isn’t Jungkook’s apartment. We don't have an excess of mattresses here…”
The comment makes you giggle.
The way Seokjin rubbed your skin calmed your racing mind.
The kiss he plants on your lips reminds you that this is home.
This is safety.
This is love.
“Just trust me,” he whispers.
You nod, allowing Seokjin to wrap one of your legs around his torso and then the other. His hands sneak their way between your thighs and the marble countertop, digging into your plush skin already. You’d expected Jin to start a countdown, ease you into it at least… but before you knew it, his head was nestled in your chest, and you were off the counter, held up high in his arms.
A loud shriek escapes you, making your fiancee giggle beneath you.
“See, love? I got you...”
He was holding onto you securely, with no sign of any struggle on his part…. If he had been struggling with the weight of you, he hid it well…
“The view’s nice up here,” you smile, resting your head atop Seokjin’s when he finally looks away from you and buries his face in your flesh, kissing and biting you there.
“Seokjin, I can’t smell your shampoo anymore. When was the last time you showered?”
“Mm,” he says against your skin. “Fuck, that’s… that’s a perfect idea, honey,” he says, wide-eyed and excited, though he misunderstands. “It’ll be like a movie scene. But first…”
Seokjin dashes towards the bedroom with you still in his arms, shrieking until he plops you down onto your shared mattress.
“Safe?” he teases, pretending to check your body for any bruises before you pull him towards you until he’s leaning over you, his face a centimeter away from yours, with his hands already all over your soft body.
“Safe,” you say happily.
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poisonous-honey · 4 months
Text
The Venti Parable
(This is a re-upload: originally posted on UniverseUchu on Feb 25, 2023)
Characters: Venti and The Narrator. The Reader and Stanley have very little presence
Warnings: None really. They enter the zending room if that upsets you, but they barely stay there for long. This is mostly in drabble form and lightly skimmed for errors
This is both the Narrator’s and Venti’s worst nightmare. An omnipotent, self-destructive perfectionist who strives to keep everything self-contained and the ever funky little god of freedom.
Venti is not impressed with this game of choice in the slightest. He had hoped his position in your heart would’ve saved him from the torture some of the others have been put through, but he was unfortunately not given this blessing. He didn’t feel like following this narrator’s every whim, he only wanted to do that with you. He was free to do as he pleases
As you’re talking to the Narrator to convince him, having someone else to narrate for just a few runs would help him with his story (“He can speak! You can get instant feedback!”) Venti sits in the office next to Stanley. 
“Alright, fine. I’ll let Venti play the game in Stanley’s place for a short while, only because you keep incessantly asking.”
“Hey! I am great company. Wouldn’t it at least be nice to have someone else to talk to for a little while?”
“This is the story of a man named Venti”
He sighs and gets up from his position next to Stanley before walking through the office
After what he feels was him being ignored, Venti reaches a fork in the road
“When Venti came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left.”
He holds his chin with his hand and closes his eyes, acting as if he was deeply thinking about his next course of action. Of course, he already knew what he'd do as soon as the directions were spewed at him.
“No, I think I'd rather go right.”
Que sighing from above. Quelle Surprise
~~~
After getting told no one would ever love him and having the parable restart, though disoriented, his next objective is to try and see if he could leave the building
He was not a fan of the Narrator and vice versa
His first attempt is to see if he can jump out of any windows
Honestly surprised he managed to fall through one on his first try (or at all, really)
He had a bit of hope that he had escaped the Narrator, but after accidentally breaking the phone and still getting an ending, he highly doubted it.
And he sighed as he was unfortunately proven right, and the Narrator starts to monologue
“What do you think, are you sick of this gag yet?”
Venti didn’t think there was a correct answer, so he just hit yes while smiling cheekily up into the air. At this point he was just trying to be entertaining for his player, but so was the Narrator
“Now would be the time I go on about having ample amounts of opportunities to restart the game, but unfortunately for you, our player is in control of that. Since all I hear is laughter on their end, I'm going to try to make this as miserable as possible, before they reset to help you out.”
As the Narrator started to sing, Venti quickly looked towards the screen in hopes he could get you to reset immediately, but all you did was shrug
How very cruel of you
~~~
After a few more runs, the last of which had Venti falling flat on his face, he decided to see where listening to the narrator got him
The Narrator kept to the script as usual, he was a professional after all, but the light elation in his voice was obvious to the two of you
Venti couldn’t help but mess with him on the way though
The Narrator could feel his temper rising, watching Venti doing literally nothing. Letting out a sigh, he directs his next questions to you. “Did you put him up to this? Be honest with me here, I have— I am extremely skeptical of this entire ordeal.” You laugh as you hear The Narrator’s anger and Venti asking if he wasn’t allowed to simply relax, further upsetting The Narrator. “I’ve done no such thing. Informing either party beforehand would’ve made this far less entertaining.” “So you’re telling me that everyone, but me, is able to see what’s so fascinating about a broom closet? If that’s where you’re getting at, then it’s absolutely wonderful to have confirmation that I am, truly, the smartest person here.” “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Mr. Narrator Sir.” “... I refuse to acknowledge this behaviour.”
Finally making it to the end and turning off the mind control machine, every light turns off as The Narrator starts his freedom ending speech
The door slowly opens and Venti can just about feel the wind call to him
Daylight peaks through the opening and grows larger every second as it descends. He can barely wait for the door to fully open and finally be able to see the skies.
As the door comes to a stop on the floor and Venti takes in the view, he finally feels a sense of ease wash over him since he was brought here. The scenery was truly beautiful.
Venti takes his first steps forward onto the grass and as he continues to drown out The Narrator’s dialogue, he figures that maybe this was the reason you brought him here out of all games.
“...- And Venti was happy.”
The Narrator finishes speaking. Venti opens his mouth to actually throw him a genuine compliment - when-
It all fades to black
And within the blink of an eye, he wakes up in the office next to Stanley, who can do nothing but look at him with a reassuring gaze and wave.
Venti just about curls into a ball and cries while Stanley panics and silently frets over him
“That’s the ending you wanted to guide me to...”
“It’s called the ‘Freedom Ending!’ The one true ending for my story that Stanley refuses to cooperate with me on. Surely someone such as yourself understands and is able to appreciate what I’m trying to-”
“On every level of irony, you’ve managed to single-handedly rip away my own freedom with this horrific outcome.”
~~~
Walking through the red door after bamboozling The Narrator long enough, Venti reaches the platform and is quickly stunned at how pretty the light show is
“Right here, see! All I want is to show Stanley, our dear player, and now you, something remarkable. Now tell me. Can you really look at this space and say it’s not truly beautiful?”
Venti giggled before spinning and sitting down. “Why, this room is a poet's dream! The only thing I’d add is nature.”
He sat in the room for a bit longer, just staring at the stars and light show. This is the closest Venti’s gotten to a true place of rest in a while, so he’d like to treasure it a bit more before leaving.
Eventually tearing his eyes away from the sparkles, Venti looks around and realizes the only rooms here are the space room he’s currently in,  and a room with some stairs. Getting up and going over, the narrator panics.
“Hey Venti, what are you doing? Where are you going?”
“I’m just looking around. I haven’t seen an exit, so I want to know where the stairs lead.”
“But we haven’t even been here that long a-and there’s nothing over there but stairs, they don’t go anywhere.”
“... It seems I’m in a predicament. Oh, my dear player, where is the exit?”
“Don’t tell him! He’s done nothing but ruin my story time and time again, the least both of you could do is allow me this solace for a little while longer.”
“But I followed your every instruction just before this run!”
All you do is sigh. Maybe you should’ve told Venti not to come here. “... I’m going to begin the game again.”
“But my peace and tranquility!” “But don’t you want to see the proper ending?”
“No, I really don’t and trust me, you won’t want to take the intended ending either.”
~~~
“Player I have to admit, the only difference working with Venti is the constant sass I’ve been receiving in turn. This hasn’t been beneficial in the slightest.”
“Hey! I still gave you plenty of good input you can use!”
“I highly disagree.”
“I beg to differ!”
You had hoped meeting Venti would help The Narrator with some of his issues, but without informing Venti in advance, all they did was annoy each other. Oh well, it was still fun to witness.
“I hope we never meet again.”
“And I hope you learn to enjoy life's intricacies instead of obsessing over the same story over and over… Aaaand that I never have to go through this ever again.”
Venti trusts you with his entire being, he really does, but if you offer him a chance to participate in another game he's going to be asking a lot of questions beforehand
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neil-gaiman · 2 years
Note
Hello, Mr Gaiman. Hope you're doing well!
I know I've written you before, but if I may just one more time as I wanted to ask this question to a more experienced writer.
I'm about to have my first comic series officialy published. The first two issues are written and I'm working on the final two now. It's been my dream since I was 12 and I've worked liked crazy ever since to make it happen. You'd think that reaching such a major goalpost would be elating but instead, the primary emotions I feel are maddening stress and crippling imposter syndrome. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and I count my blessings, and I know this is what I’m meant to be doing. But wow, I am way more shit scared than I thought I would be, and the doubt sits with me like the devil on my shoulder!
And I wondered, as someone whose been down this path time and time again, if you ever felt anything like this in your early days? Maybe you still do, or know others who have? Would love to hear the thoughts of someone whose been there, done that, got the t-shirt, etc.
P.S. Your incredible work and writing advice really helps keep me afloat, as it does for many. And congrats on Good Omens, Sandman and everything else! I cannot WAIT to see it all. Thank you so much for all the work you've done to put everything out there for all us dreamy nerds<3
Hope you have a lovely day!
That was what Sandman 8 was about, really. The emotions you feel when you get where you wanted to go for so long. And now you're there you don't feel how you expected to feel.
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starwrighter · 9 months
Text
I am not a baby!! (Yes you are)
(Ao3) (Masterpost) (Previous) (Next)
(The eleventh chapter,)
The hatchling lay still, motionless inside his little building. His tiny body pressed against the see-through barrier wrapped in one of the creations he built. Did he strangle himself? Had Damian scared the hatchling into killing itself?  The Hatchling didn't seem scared when he'd attacked him earlier, but fear could show itself in various ways. Some tended to freeze up, some fled like cowards, and others fought for their lives with every fiber of their being..
Damian was gigantic compared to the hatchling.. The hatchling's entire body could fit in Damians palms. Something, admittedly, he'd foolishly thought wouldn't be distressing for the hatchling. 
Pressing his face against the transparent barrier, Damian listened to the chaos engulfing the bond. Not the usual idiotic rambling and tease that often clogged up the bond: grief, mourning, an overwhelming sadness from his entire family.
"What happened?"
"I don't know," That's all Damian could really say. If he'd stayed away, avoiding contact like father instructed, would the hatchling still be alive?
"Are you sure he's dead?" Dick questioned.
The hatchling skin was pale, lips tinged blue. Unmoving, chest stilled, no sign of the rise and fall of breathing .
"What else could he be, Grayson?!" He snapped, Dick went silent.
"Sleeping...?"
His gills flared, tail snapping, seething through clenched teeth.
"Do you think I'm an idio-" He started, rage cut out by a sudden movement.
The hatchling had rolled over, throwing his chubby arm over his face. A content yawn as he took a slow breath, color returning to the hatchling's lips.
"..."
"He's sleeping, isn't he?" His face grew hot,
"Shut up! His lips were blue, and he wasn't breathing! You would have freaked out too!" He snapped, watching intently at the slow rise and fall of the baby's chest.
"Absolutely, without a doubt, instant heart attack," Dick replied quickly, a tsunami of relief and concern clogging up the bond.
"Why did he stop breathing?"
"Babies do that sometimes Damian, It happened a lot with you whenever you slept," Father soothed. "Sent everyone into a panic no matter how many times it happened,"
"Karma," A barrage of his siblings coughed out.
"Are his lips still blue?"
"No," The hatchling's skin was still pale, but his lips were a light pink. Tiny hands clenched into fists, contrasting the peaceful expression settled on the child's face. A cold radiated through where the hatchling’s hand touched the barrier. Not corpse cold, more like poking your head above water during a raging storm. A closer comparison would be the barren wastelands of the void or the eerie depths of the lost river where he spent his early childhood.
The child seemed to be thriving just fine despite being out of his designated environment. From watching, they could tell the babies liked to spend their early days in shallow water, sometimes above water, before they migrated deeper and deeper. It was quite possible he’d move down to the lost river or the deeper side of the grand reef when he got too big for the shallows.
Father would be elated to have a baby swimming around in the reef. However, they’d have to guard the lost river entrances to prevent him from wandering. Although it was one of the coldest places in the crater, it was way too close to the lava zones, and even closer to the precursor settlements. 
“I think he might be a cold-dwelling species,” His family would find out regardless if he told them, and it was better for them to be aware of possible dangers before it was too late.
“Oh, do you think he’ll-“ 
“Not that cold,” The child was nowhere near the temperature of the Arctic. Temperatures far below zero and constant snow and hail storms would be too much for him, let alone traveling through the void to get there. Sure, the predators were smaller over there, but they were much more aggressive, and precursor artifacts and buildings were littered around the tundra no matter where you went.
The child slept for hours. Concern nagging at him the longer he remained unconscious. Father reassured him that he’d slept a lot as a baby too, but he’s doubtful any of them had ever been asleep this long. The sun had begun to rise again, shallows warming from the sun. It was under his impression that babies needed to eat every few hours or so. It had been much longer than that, and Damian feared he would begin to starve in his sleep if he remained unconscious much longer. 
Tap…Tap…Tap
Pitch-black claws scratched the barrier, the hatchling rolling away from the noise, arms guarding his little ears.
Tap…Tap…Tap
Blue eyes flew open, head whipping to face him.“AngeR,”
@ashoutinthedarkness @avelnfear @meira-3919 @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @hugsandchaos @blep-23 @zeldomnyo @bytheoldwillowtree @justwannabecat @shepherdsheart @starlightcat04 @stargazing-bookwyrm @pupstim @dragongoblet @noxcheshire
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peterparkouryo · 9 months
Text
consuming devotion | ੈ♡˳
Tumblr media
prompt: You can't help but love Peter, even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings
warnings: heavy angst, heartbreak, sweet sweet unrequited love and one sided pining (obv)
word count: 1.5k
"I'm left wondering why the stars align, but your heart doesn't seem to find a place for mine."
a/n: it’s sorta unfinished but not rlly? also who’s excited for rebound four?? ;) (edited: it’s unfinished but there’s like a sort of part 2 that’s connected and i’m working on it)
ੈ♡˳
There's something so beautiful, yet so so painful about being in love. On one hand, you have these intense emotions that are so heartwarming, joyful, happiness and you're content with being around the person you love. On the other hand, your mind is a battleground of emotions. You're plagued by self-doubt, wondering if you're good enough, if you're worthy of their love. You question whether they truly care for you, or if you're just imaging things. You're torn between revealing your feelings, or risking heartbreak.
That's the thing, you have felt every emotion of being in love that there is. The truth is, it sucks.
The distance between you and Peter feels like an insurmountable chasm. Time seems to drag on, and you always, always ache for his presence.
You know there's a mutual understanding that he only sees you as a friend, he has said it on multiple occasions, and thankfully you weren't stupid enough to actually admit to being hopelessly in love with the boy.
You're not entirely sure if he is aware of your affection for him, and you surely doubt that he is, considering its, well, Peter.
What you do know, that you are positively sure of, is that you've probably loved Peter for the better half of your life. There were countless times that proved it too, such as the movie nights, the boy offering to help you with your dreadful homework, walking you home after school, and pretty much anything else that made a vulnerable warmth settle in your heart.
After that realization, you became hyper-aware of every little detail about Peter - his likes, his dislikes hobbies and interests. You hung onto every word he ever said, dissecting his actions for hidden meanings. You started craving his attention and validation, yet you feared the vulnerability the came to revealing your true feelings.
You always had a mix of emotions all at once, sadness, frustration, and sometimes even jealousy. You alway questioned yourself, wondering what could possibly be wrong with you, why you weren't enough for him. It's a battle between your heart and mind, trying to rationalize your while your heart keeps yearning for the unattainable.
Peter's heart was truly pure gold, always thinking of others before himself, helping out whenever he could, he was perfect. And no matter what he did, you still loved him.
Even if he continuously rejected your feelings. 
You both knew he wasn't exactly doing it on purpose, he's told you countless times that he only strictly saw you as a friend and nothing more, but like the stubborn person you were, you ignored those words and lived in this pathetic delusion that you'd actually have a chance with him.
Finding yourself caught in a constant cycle of hope and despair, wavering between moments of elation whenever he showed you kindness or affection, and moments of heart-wrenching despair when he seemed distant or unresponsive, which wasn't an uncommon thing. You always, despite already knowing where the boy stood, tried to decipher he feelings, to find hidden signs that he might just feel the same way, but the uncertainty gnaws at your sanity.
"Party, my place, tonight." A voice interrupts your quiet studying, the girl plopping her lunch tray down on the rectangular table quite harshly, the action gaining your morbid attention.
"I don't know, last time I went to one of your parties, I had to clean up after you." You point out, paying close attention to the way Liz's smiles slowly turns into a frown.
"Well, this party is different, and it's not like I made you do that." She argues, shaking her head with an eye roll.
Liz has been your best friend since you both could ride a bike. She's been your better half for as long as you can remember, knowing everything about you and vice versa. The transition from middle schoolers into high school was tough to say the least, puberty doing its job for her, and you....not so much. So it was not a shocking factor that the girl quickly became popular.
Yet, despite her social status, she always stuck to you like glue, and you couldn't be more thankful for that.
You give her a unsure glance, before turning back to your textbook.
"Peter'll be there."
You swear you thought you were subtle when your head practically snaps up at your friend's sentence, but given the way she snorts at your action, you highly doubt it and you clear your throat before you hurriedly look down at your textbook again.
"Okay." You shrug, picking up your pencil to vigorously erase a problem that was probably right or wrong, but you didn't care, your only goal was trying to pretend to seem nonchalant.
Truth be told, you do try to move on from Peter, but the love you feel is stubborn and persistent. It's a constant ache gnawing at your soul, a wound refusing to heal. 
Liz tilts her head at your nonchalant response, not buying into your tone.
"Okay?" She repeats.
"Okay." You confirm, placing the pencil on the table, out of your anxious grasp.
Liz was well in the know of your one-sided affection for Peter. Always encouraging you to talk to him, entertaining the very thought of you two ever being a couple. Oh, how respectful she was toward you when she knew at one point during your high school years Peter harboured feelings for her. You don't know exactly what made the boy stop liking her, but you were glad in the end.
"Well, alright." The girl says carefully, picking at her food.
"You don't have to come, but it'd be great if you did." She states with a sweet smile, and you don't find it in yourself to retort it and only nod.
Liz mumbles a quiet bye, standing up with her lunch tray in hand, most likely going to hang out with her other more sociable friends, letting you be left alone with your thoughts.
Unfortunately, those thoughts last for a good five seconds.
"Just the girl I was looking for." You recognize the voice almost immediately, straightening your position to look more presentable.
Peter was effortlessly gorgeous, it was unfair, truly. It was almost like he was purposely taunting you with the knowledge of knowing you can't have him because he doesn't want you to.
He sets his belongings in the empty seat next to him, unzipping his backpack, grabbing a small piece of paper with a pencil, zipping the bag back up before sliding over the gathered materials in your reach.
You look in-between him and the objects in confusion.
"I need you to write me a letter." Peter says, quickly noticing your bewilderment.
"For?"
"My birthday."
"Your birthday's not till August?"
"Well, not my birthday, MJ's." Peter corrects with a small chuckle.
You nod slowly, sliding the objects closer to you, avoiding Peter's intent gaze.
"Isn't her birthday in like, June?" You quiz, writing your 'to' and 'from' as Peter shrugs from across you.
"Yeah, but I'm planning a surprise party that'll at least take a month considering its Michelle, and I know how much you love writing letters." The boy explains and your eyes go wide as you look at him, raising an offended eyebrow.
Of course, it was certainly no secret that many of your love confessions were most of the time in the form of letters, those of which he rejected, continuously, and it was a heartbreaking experience every time. But having the boy use the very thing you couldn't help but show your expression with, against you, hurt worse than any rejection (you're lying, obviously).
"You're so funny, I almost laughed." You deadpan, slamming the pencil down on the table, startling Peter slightly as you push the pencil and paper back to him.
You quickly gather your things, turning to leave the lunch room, though it was nowhere near over, ignoring the calls of your name from Peter.
-
One-sided love is a tortuous experience. It's such a devastating thing knowing that your love is nowhere near as close to be reciprocated. Always filled with such despair. A constant battle between your heart and reality, between your dreams and the harsh truth.
After your "storm out", Peter was quick to text you with a million apologies, which to all of those you hesitantly ignored, and it was a no good feeling, probably the hardest thing you ever had to do.
It wasn't like he had never joked about your feelings towards him. You think its better that way, but sometimes he could go a little too far and you never understood why you allowed him to continue with the humour you never found yourself to laugh at. It was almost like a coping mechanism, coming to terms with the whole ordeal in a way that wouldn't be so heartbreaking.
Maybe the reason Peter only did joke about it was to help you get over him because he can only ever see you as a friend, and he wanted you to see it as well.
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crepe-of-wrath · 3 months
Text
insane levels of wish fulfillment (soft dom Aizawa x very insecure f reader scenario)
mdni; again this is just absolute wish fulfillment and not a how to/guide for anything; Reader has major esteem issues bc Reader grew up in an environment that heavily stressed conventional feminine beauty and attitudes toward aging and it left a mark; if you personally grew up in an environment that was more open about those things and so this Reader's insecurities don't vibe with you, I'm sorry--most of my other x Readers are not like this but I'm just kind of in a place rn i guess; in case it wasn't already obvious, reader is skirting even closer than usual to "author self insert;" consider this a continuation of THIS
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It's your first time together with Aizawa since you and he officially agreed to your dynamic. When you two had been discussing things to see if you would be a good match, you had stressed the need for cuddling after sex, explaining you were scarred by an encounter where your lover had basically pumped and ran, leaving you cold and alone on the mattress.
At first you were elated when Aizawa explained that, for your first time together, all you were going to do was cuddle. Without thinking, you settled into his arms, nuzzling his neck, playing with the tendrils that cascaded down from his ponytail, shivering with delight as his fingers lightly danced over you.
But then doubt set in. "Are--are you sure, Sir?" you had asked, so timidly (one day you hoped to call him Master, but that seemed like such a big and scary and heavy step, so you had both agreed on Sir for now). "I--I don't want to be, you know..selfish, I guess? I mean...shouldn't I have to do something to earn affection like cuddles?"
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wrapping you up tight. His arms and chest were so muscular; he was so handsome--why had he chosen lowly you when there were so many younger and prettier subs who wanted him too?! You were about to spiral into self-doubt when his baritone voice reached down into the depths, caught you and pulled you back up to the surface, where you could breathe again.
"Angel," he explained, "what we've agreed to is a mutual exchange of service and protection that is supposed to make us feel extra special. Everyone"--here he smiled and stroked your cheek--"even little angels who have been too harshly treated by this world and don't value themselves like they should, fundamentally deserves affection. You never have to earn that--"
Whatever else he had to say was drowned out by your very, very loud sobs. They came out of nowhere--eruption, tsunami, tornado, no destructive metaphor seemed to quite suffice for how they simply overcame you, leaving you completely incapable of stopping them. The tears that flowed out of your eyes carried the sediment of literal decades of pain and loneliness and sorrow caused by your internalized belief that you just weren't pretty enough, weren't worthy of being cared for, were somehow even more wretched than you had been in your supposed bloom of youth now that you had reached your expiration date, and all other sorts of nasty things that part of you had always known weren't true, but that a more insidious part of you could never shake.
Aizawa just held you in those unwavering arms of his, murmuring little hums and nothings in that voice of his for heavens knows how long before you calmed down.
"Good girl," he said. "You're such a good girl. You lie here for just a second and I'm going to go get you some water. I think you'll need it." Exhausted, you let yourself fall into the comfortable mattress and pillow. You heard him pour something from the pitcher, and then you heard the faucet. He walked in with a glass and a towel draped on his shoulder. He handed you the water and began to gently clean up your face.
You felt so warm and fuzzy inside; being cherished, even a little, was more dizzying that even your wildest dreams. Without thinking, you said, "Thank you, Master." Then, you gasped a little, but not in a bad way. It had felt...exciting to call him that.
Aizawa drew you into his lap, and you put your arms around his neck. "Angel," he said, "I would be a liar if I didn't say that hearing you call me 'Master' is"--here he sighed again and you thought you felt something twitch in his lap--"extremely alluring. But, I also know that you had said you weren't 100% comfortable with that title yet. It's been an emotional evening and on nights like this sometimes good girls who just want to make their Sirs happy will push themselves too much and then be scared later because they want to take a step back. I promised to take care of you, sweetheart, so I don't want that to happen. So, you will call me 'Sir' for the next week--that's an order--and at the end of the week we'll have another discussion to see if you're truly comfortable with 'Master.'"
"I understand, Sir. And...thank you for taking care of me."
"I wouldn't be worthy of the honor of hearing 'Master' fall from your sweet lips if I did otherwise, Angel."
All you could do was beam at him and try to hold him as tightly as you could.
"You're so pretty," he said softly. "Why don't you give me a little kiss?"
You felt your face warm up and quietly said, "Yes, Sir," before giving him a peck on the lips.
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kingofpopmj · 1 month
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hii. can you please do an imagine, where michael in his mature era (aka: mac daddy mike), has a naive soon to be wife, and she doesn't know ANYTHING about sexy times, so Michael decides to teach her. Please and ty
Oooo hunni! You guys keep summoning Naughty Nevaeh lol
Here you go! I hope you enjoy.. 🙈
Teacher’s Pet
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Michael and I had finally arrived home after a long day full of appearances. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. The hysteria that follows Michael wherever he goes is unfathomable, yet he handles it with such grace. Usually, we keep a safe distance at public events, I appear more so as apart of his entourage than his partner, but it’s how we planned it. However, that was all in the past, now that I’m his fiancée we decided I’d be by his side. We were more than ready. As always he was extremely protective of me and made sure I felt safe. We announced our engagement only a few days prior. Michael and I were elated, the media on the other hand was relentless, I was labeled a gold digger, Michael was attacked and mocked— nothing too out of the norm, which pissed me off to no end, but he insisted I bite my tongue. He ensured me that he could handle it. It was tough to say the least. The noise surrounding us was so hateful— so loud and they were all rooting against us. It was infuriating. Unfortunately, as much as I tried to ignore the noise, it successfully added fuel to the flames of my own insecurities and I had no idea how to come clean to Michael, but it had to happen and soon.
“Baby?” I heard Michael’s voice, along with his footsteps nearing his— our bedroom— where I was currently hiding. “There you are! What’s wrong?”
“Hi. Nothing. Nothing” I answered quickly.
“You haven’t been yourself all day. I know these events can be draining. The crowds of people, the bright lights and the screaming. It’s a lot to get used to. If you don’t like them I promise I won’t force you to attend. I’ll understand. It won’t upset me.” The concerned look on his face made the knot in my stomach tighten. “Are you having doubts? Do you not want to get married?” My heart ached at the pain evident in his voice.
“No! Michael, of course not. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t the best date tonight.” I tried to ease my way into this conversation.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. It’s just last night—”
“I knew it. I’m sorry if I did too much. I was trying to be spontaneous you know? I completely understand if you want to wait until our wedding night. No matter what it’ll be perfect.”
“It’s not that I want to wait.”
“Talk to me.” He whispered with pleading eyes.
“I’m— I’ve never really— I don’t—” I began stuttering, unable to complete a sentence, my hands trembling as I tried desperately not to hyperventilate.
“Woah. Okay, breathe. Baby, it’s okay. Everything is okay.” Michael wrapped his arms around me, leaving a kiss on my forehead and began to sing to me softly.
Every night she walks right in my dreams
Since I met her from the start
I'm so proud I am the only one
Who is special in her heart
The girl is mine
“Keep going.” I smiled into his chest, loving the sound of his voice.
“Baby, if you wanted me to sing for you, all you had to do was ask.”
“You’re so annoying.” I playfully rolled my eyes, moving to sit on the bed.
“I’ll keep going if—” he paused dramatically, putting his hand in the air. “You tell me what’s on your mind. You can talk to me about anything.”
“I’m nervous about going further because—” I drifted off, feeling overwhelming embarrassment. “I’m a virgin.” I said barely above a whisper.
The only clue I was given that Michael heard my confession was how his grip on my hand loosened before pulling away all together. This was just what I was afraid of, he’s going to leave me.
“I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry Michael. I understand if—” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence, so instead I slowly twisted the engagement ring off my finger, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall as I reached my hand out to return the ring to Michael.
“No. No. I don’t want it back. No. Baby, it belongs right here.” He spoke softly, he sat down next to me as he slid the ring back onto my finger. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry if I pressured you. It wasn’t my intention.”
“I don’t feel pressured. I want to. I want to be with you. I just— I’m terrified of disappointing you.”
“You could never disappoint me.” Michael moved closer to me, pulling me into his chest. “I love you so much.”
Suddenly, I didn’t feel afraid, with the weight of my confession finally off my shoulders, I was able to feel something else. Love. Desire. Yearning. Craving. It was all I could feel and I couldn’t help myself— I couldn’t wait any longer. I looked up at him, his beautiful chocolate brown eyes staring back at me. I grasped at his collar with my fingers, pulling him into me, desperately needing him as close as possible. He kissed me back, his hands finding the small of my back, holding me tenderly. I moved into his lap, straddling him as our kiss intensified. I began to unbutton his shirt, before I heard Michael’s voice.
“Slow down.” He gently took my hands into his. “Baby, we don’t have to do this right now. I’ll wait as long as you need. You’re more than worth the wait.”
“All I need is you. Right now. I’m ready.”
“Are you positive?”
“Yes, just maybe talk me through it? Teach me a thing or two? I really want you to enjoy it.”
“Baby, I’m already enjoying it.” He smiled, gesturing to the erection poking into my inner thigh. “Just call me Professor Jackson.” He said, with a flirtation wink.
“You’re making me blush!” I giggled, burying my face in his neck. “I’m trying to be serious! Sexy even..”
“You’re always sexy. You don’t have to try.” He spoke lowly, picking me up, laying me back on the bed as he placed himself between my legs. “Oh, I can do serious.”
“Michael!” I yelped, feeling his warm hand slipping underneath my dress, moving up my thigh teasingly.
“Relax. Let me teach you.”
“Please. Teach me.” I begged, the anticipation building as his hand hovered between my legs, fiddling with the lace of my panties. Michael kneeled down in front of me, causing the air to get stuck in my lungs.
“Do you trust me?” He whispered, his breath tickling my thigh. I was desperate for more.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?” He asked, looking deep into my eyes, his long fingers slipped underneath the lace, his touch sending a shiver throughout my body.
“I trust you, Professor Jackson.”
“Oh, that sounds so much better coming out of your beautiful mouth.” He smirked, kissing me and quite literally taking my breath away. He ripped off the lace that covered my modesty, this side of Michael was quickly becoming my favorite.
I felt an overwhelming urge to scream as Michael began moving his fingers in a circular motion. My breathing becoming unsteady, struggling to process the pleasure I was feeling for the very first time.
“It’s all about touch.” He whispered. “It comes naturally once you stop overthinking.” His pace increasing as he spoke. “When two people are as connected as you and I— every kiss, every touch, everything feels— amplified.”
“Michael! Michael!” My body shaking, falling back into the mattress, suddenly I didn’t feel his fingers anymore. I felt something else— something even better. I slowly glanced down, seeing the top of Michael’s head, his face buried between my legs. The sight alone was enough to drive me crazy. I could feel his tongue, the way it curved, the way it moved, the way it sent shocks of electricity through me. My back arched, unintentionally thrusting my hips forward, locking my leg around the back of his neck. I began to curse profusely, feeling his hand slowly travel up under the fabric of my dress, the skin to skin contact made me shiver as he took a firm hold of my breast.
“Oh! My!” I felt a build up in my core, gripping the comforter tightly, attempting to ground myself, but there was no use. My thighs clenched around Michael’s head as a sound fell from my lips— one I didn’t know I was capable of.
“Just breathe.” I heard his voice, as his fingers slid the straps of my dress down my arms. He leaned down kissing and sucking down my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I got you.”
“Please—” I pleaded between my gasps for air. I had no idea what I wanted. I just knew I didn’t want this to end. Not yet.
“I’m going to try something first.” Michael said before I felt his lips on my nipple. “How does that feel?”
“So good.”
“Open.” Michael murmured, gently tapping my knees. I did as I was told, watching as he removed his pants, taking a place in between my legs.
“Is it going to hurt?” I said quietly.
“I’d never hurt you.” He grabbed my arms, placing them above my head and intertwined our fingers. “I’ll go slow.”
As he looked into my eyes, the sensation of him entering me ignited a flutter in my chest, tears of pleasure puddled my eyes and I squeezed his hands so tight I began losing feeling in my fingers. Once he was fully buried inside of me he made gentle movements by rotating his hips in small circles. The tingle that raced through me was indescribable. I never knew that this feeling existed, but now that I do, I was sure that the reason was because subconsciously I was waiting for Michael.
“Michael!” I cried, ripping one hand free, tightly gripping his shoulder, digging my finger nails into his skin.
“Y/N, baby, you have to loosen up.” He said sweetly, unwrapping my legs that were locked around him. “Now, I can do this.” He started carefully moving in and out of me. As great as it felt I craved more. “How does that feel?”
“God. I love that.”
“I have an idea.” Michael said, moving away from me, I frowned, ready to protest until he laid on his back pulling me on top of him.
“What are you doing?” I panicked, at the extreme withdrawal and our new position.
“Teaching.” He smirked. “You’re going to learn how to ride me.” He said so seductively it gave me goosebumps.
“What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t. Just follow my instructions. All you have to do is—” He guided my hips with his hands, explaining what I had to do, but I couldn’t hear a thing. I was to focused on wanting him inside of me again. As he spoke I slowly spread my legs, coming closer to him until I felt his tip. The rush it gave me was so intense, my knees slid further across the silk comforter and I felt our full connection again. Michael’s eyes widen at my speed, he briefly glanced down, admiring how I took him whole. “Oh god!”
“Oh crap! Did I hurt you?” I panicked.
“No. No. It feels amazing. I just— wow. You’re a fast learner.”
“Well, I have a great teacher.” I slowly began to move my hips, watching Michael bite his bottom lip, his hands squeezing my thighs firmly.
“Baby. You’re gonna make me—”
“Make you what?” I questioned, slowing my pace, waiting for his answer. “Am I doing this wrong?” I felt my cheeks heat up from embarrassment as I stopped my movements all together.
“Don’t stop!” He moaned loudly. Holy shit. That was so hot. I began moving my hips like my life depended on it. Michael had beads of sweat on his forehead and his chest was glistening. “Baby, I’m gonna— I’m almost—”
“Michael!” I begged, Michael pulled me down onto his chest as I felt him twitch inside of me.
“You feel so perfect.” He purred in my ear as we lay still for a few seconds before Michael excitedly propped himself up on his elbows. He rolled us over, so he was now looking down at me. I laid against the mattress with a confused look on my face.
“We’re gonna be here all night.” He finally spoke as he touched my lips with his.
“Well, I do have more to learn. If you’re interested in teaching into after school hours.” I teased, wrapping my legs around his hips.
“Your wish is my command.” He declared, kissing me sweetly before he started up again, his quick pace taking me by surprise.
The wooden bed frame shrieked against the floor boards with each thrust. Our kiss becoming sloppy, needy even. Everything felt so intense. I couldn’t catch my breath, but I didn’t care. As long as Michael stayed on top of me, beneath me— inside me, I didn’t care about anything else. It’s just us.
“Amazing.” I breathed out, working up the courage to speak. “Can I— can I try to use my mouth?” I asked nervously, staring straight up at the ceiling. Michael slowed down, dragging his finger along my jawline, forcing me look into his eyes.
“Baby, you can do whatever you want to me.”
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