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rachey899 · 7 months

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A Shifty Hero

A size shifty story in which Luke and Matt decide to be superheros. 1700 words.

“Help!” The woman cried out frantically, it wasn’t her first time being mugged in New York city and she thought bitterly that it wouldn’t be her last either. What scared her this time though was that she had left her apartment with the intent on only going for an evening walk, she didn’t bring her wallet with her, only a set of keys to her apartment.

Normally she’d throw the purse at them and split before they could do any more harm, however this guy was convinced she was lying about not having any money on her.

“Please somebody help!” She cried again, resulting in the man slamming her against the brick wall behind her harder, hurting the back of her head in the process.

“Shut it, lady.” The masked man hissed at her and moved the gun that he had been previously holding to her head and shoved it into her mouth instead. She whimpered, hands above her head in surrender, hoping he would just search her and find her with nothing and leave her be.

Letting her neck go, he held the gun steadily in her mouth as he used his now free hand to begin feeling up her body, albeit with the intent on finding her purse but he also took a sick pleasure to search in areas he knew full well he would not find a purse.

Just when the criminal was about too have too much fun, they both felt the ground shake beneath them, the small amount of light that had lit up the alleyway was blocked by an immense presence.

A pair of sneakers slamming down on the pavement made the mugger jump and caused the pavement to crack slightly from the immense weight forced onto it. Their gaze wandered up following a pair of jeans larger than either of them could comprehend, and up and up to the face of a giant man who held them both in his menacing stare.

Cold grey blue eyes stared down at them, letting them take in his intimidating stature.

“Hey! Pick on someone your own size!” The immense voice reverberated around them.

Without warning a hand bigger than life itself was launched at the man, fingers larger than tree trunks wrapped around his waist unforgivingly, having forgotten completely about the woman he was tormenting he dropped the gun and she fell clumsily to the floor, breathless.

The giant brought the criminal up to his face and smiled menacingly at him, flashing his teeth brutishly.

“P-Please, I swear I wasn’t g-gonna to do anything, I j-just needed a f-few bucks, ya know, to help me get by, that’s all, I wasn’t g-gonna hurt her.”

“Funny that’s not what it looked like from here.” His breathe washed over the man eliciting a shiver of fear to race down his spine, he began to shake uncontrollably.

“Now what to do with you?” The giant asked himself, licking his lips in contemplation.

“Please, oh god don’t eat me!” All dignity lost, the criminal proceeded to wet his pants in fear for his life, the giant’s face grimaced in disgust, very nearly dropping him altogether.

“Gross.” The giant said flatly.

With that he lifted the man up higher as he stood to his full height of 65 feet and deposited the man on the sloped roof of a nearby building. The criminal flung himself to a pole that was attached to the roof and continued to shake like the coward he was, the giant laughed at the sight before ducking out of sight and disappearing completely.

Around the corner, the woman had pulled herself up off the floor and scanned the alleyway skittishly. Fearing that once the giant was done with the mugger, he would go after her next, she counted her lucky stars that she hadn’t been chosen to be his first meal that night and fled the alley way.

The giant, meanwhile, watched quietly in the cover of the shadows and tall buildings around him, he watched as the woman ran, a pang of guilt stabbed him in the stomach as he realised that he had also been the cause of her fear tonight and not just the mugger.

He didn’t take his eyes off of her until he saw her fumble for some keys and practically fall into her apartment building, only then he let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh man! That was totally epic dude!” A loud voiced echoed in the alleyway, the voice being close to the giant and most certainly coming from his chest pocket.

“Shhhh.” The giant glanced down at the pocket harshly, shushing his overly excitable friend, he watched as he popped his head out of the pocket, holding the flap up with one arm and smiling cheesily up at him.

“Honestly Luke, why didn’t we think to do this sooner, you’re a superhero, a vigilante, the hero of the city helping those in need!”

Luke pinched his friend’s waist and hoisted him out of his shirt pocket, before carefully placing him on the ground all the while shrinking to his usual heigh of 6 foot 5, he still stood taller than his friend even now.

“You gotta be quiet dude, anyone could have heard you just now!” Luke whispered harshly at his friend.

“And I’m your side kick!”

“Matt!”

Luke held a hand over his friend’s mouth, who stared wide eyed at him with his hands up in surrender. When he was sure that his friend wouldn’t continue blabbing about their secret to the whole of New York city he dropped his hand and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the hand he just peed in.”

Luke smirked in response to which Matt proceeded to dramatically dry heave and make exaggerated vomiting noises as they walked through the alley.

When they were safely back in their shared apartment, they both sighed falling back onto the worn sofa in their living room.

Luke closed his eyes in exhaustion, his ‘gift’ allowed his body to shift sizes, but there were limits, and it didn’t always make sense even to him.

Sometimes he would shift uncontrollably without warning, other days he could shift as much as he wanted, and other times it took an immense amount of energy to shift and hold a size for extended periods.

Tonight, it had been difficult to convince his body to shift and took a great amount of energy to hold it for so long, it had been physically draining for him and he felt as though he could sleep for a week.

His ‘sidekick’ however had different ideas.

“Okay, so I’ve got this police scanner app my brother showed me, I say we set up camp each night and listen in for any disturbances we could help with, yeah?”

Matt was holding up his phone to Luke’s face, the app like a radio scanning through channels quickly looking for any activity to pick up in the transmitter.

“Matt.” Luke sighed his name and ran a hand down his face.

“What?” his friend asked looking confused and a little bummed that he wasn’t more excited about the idea.

“I really don’t think we should make this a regular thing, stumbling across a mugging like tonight, sure, but I’m not going to interfere with police, especially since this…ability” he waved vaguely at his body “Is so darn unpredictable.”

“I guess your right.” Matt slouched back onto the sofa dejected.

“Can we at least come up with cool names, you know, like real superheros?”

Luke raised his eyebrows once more before rolling his eyes, they were both 22 years old but Luke often wondered if Matt had stopped aging at 10.

“If it pleases you, knock yourself out.”

“Okay, oh I know, what about Stretch and Speedy!”

“Stretch?” Luke almost laughed but held a flat look despite his quirking lips.

“Yeah, cos you grow and I’m a track star, I’m sure I can use my speed to aid you my friend.”

“I also shrink.” Luke replied flatly.

“Your right that doesn’t really work does it.” Matt tapped his stubbled chin in thought dramatically before jumping up in excitement.

“Oh, what about, get this, Shifty.” His hands waved from left to right as though highlighting the name on a lit-up billboard.

“That makes me sound kinda…. shifty…. don’t ya think?”

Matt frowned dramatically and threw his hands up in exasperation, his friend was being greatly unhelpful in the important subject of superhero naming.

“You keep thinking, I’m gonna get something to eat whoa-“Luke stood up and immediately regretted it, his head spun and his body itched like it was about to shift, he didn’t have time to say a word more before he lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

“Whoa dude, are you okay?” Matt watched as his friend crumpled to his knees and fell to the floor without a sound, he’d been shrinking rapidly throughout his decent to the floor and by the time his cheek hit the carpet he was 6 inches in height.

“Shit.” Matt muttered, he knew Luke didn’t particularly like when he shrunk, it made him feel vulnerable and unsafe, he crouched down and looked guiltily at his friend, he wondered if pushing him to grow tonight may have triggered this sudden episode.

Not wanting to leave him on the floor, he nudged his fingers under his small friend’s body until he was cupped in his palms, lifting him up to his face he couldn’t help but think how cute his buddy looked when he was this size, of course he’d never say that to his face, he’d never hear the end of it.

“I gotcha shifty, sleep it off buddy.” Matt sat back down on the couch, placing his small friend on his chest, it was warm he knew from personal experience, being held close to Luke’s chest when he was large.

He turned on the TV and switched it to a low volume before also nodding off for the night, a hand held protectively over his friend as they both slept off the excitement of the night.

#gt #gianttiny #g/t #giant/tiny #gtfluff #giant #tiny #g/t community #size shifter #Matts an idiot #Luke just doing his best

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tatelauritzen62 · 2 months

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Not known Details About best squishmallows

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cupcakegame · 11 months

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Trying to find a Baking Specialty? Think about Cupcakes!

Can not state specifically when it occurred, but cupcakes have made an actually large return. The "Once Upon a Time" mainly, youngsters's dessert is now a favorite of any ages and also for all celebrations cupcake game. Many companies are profiting this reasonably simple-to-make, easy-to-frost as well as embellish treat. Otherwise as a specialized business, they're adding cupcakes to their existing product line. Just exactly how versatile can a cupcake be? Well, you can utilize nearly any kind of cake batter that's ideal for a bigger cake. Sizewise there's whatever from a mini to a king size that's so large it's baked in 2 components (Super Duper Cupcake Pan). There are hundreds of ways to decorate. There is a full closet of devices to provide each cupcake a well-dressed sleek presentation. Products like: cupcake cooking linings, cupcake wrappers, cupcake sleeves (in several colors and designs), bakery boxes (in pink as well as white) as well as special inserts for the bakery boxes all assist to provide your products and also service an expert appearance. You're restricted only to your creative imagination and creativity. How much can you charge for cupcakes? Rates vary from $1.50 - $4.00 per cupcake as well as possibly a lot more. Your prices must be based upon: the quantity of active ingredients and decorations/garnishes utilized, the types of components used (better equates to greater rate), start-to-finish manufacturing time (some cake batters and designs are more engaged and elaborate than others), special packaging and the size of the cupcake. Who's interested in purchasing cupcakes and wherefore reasons? Cupcakes are in need for both business and personal. There's a cupcake market for: style events as well as events, holidays, unique celebrations, wedding events, Sunday dinner, even if and treat on your own. For the much healthier way of living, there are vegan cupcakes. Tough to think about any occasion or require that's not covered. Specialized pastry shops like CamiCakes in Jacksonville, FL and also Atlanta, GA, Sweet Carolina Cupcakes in Hilton Head, SC, George Town Cupcakes in Washington, DC, Molly's Cupcakes in Chicago, Il The Atlanta Cupcake Factory in Atlanta, GA as well as Gigi's Cupcakes in Nashville, TN (with locations in 8 other states) are simply a few of the lots of cupcake specialists around the nation. Got a min? Check out the on the internet remarks from their customers. Definitely food for assumed if you're planning to supply cupcakes in your product line. It's terrific when you can pick up from somebody else's success or errors, whichever the instance could be. Still trying to find indicators that the cupcake organization is hot? The Food Network Channel has a tv show, "CupCake Wars", that's all about cupcakes. Desire a lot more? There's also an internet site dedicated to talking concerning cupcakes, CupcakeBlog.com. I recommend you get in while it's HOT if the baking as well as selling of these sweet little treats rate of interest you. Simply choose your most preferred cake flavors as well as frostings. Develop a few kicked-up layouts. Pick the appropriate product packaging, to ensure that your cupcakes are not compressed or shattered when the bakeshop box is closed. Do a little research study to find out what the going prices are in your location. Decide cost(s) finest for you. Create a good advertising and marketing technique. See to it you have the proper license as well as allows to operate a baking company. As well as you're prepared to bake and also market cupcakes. Idea: Don't neglect top quality. High quality is always KEY in the food business.

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coworking1space · 1 year

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Top Reasons Why You Should Work From A Coworking Space

Coworking is the ideal option in contrast to telecommuting or at your own office. This kind of working environment offers many advantages and a climate loaded with focused and devoted experts across all businesses. The choice to work close to outsiders can be scary but so fulfilling. The following are 10 reasons why you should work from a coworking space.

View as Importance

Since the scope of organizations and undertakings at a coworking space is so huge, numerous coworkers say work done in their spaces is more significant. An individual's work personality becomes more grounded when around individuals doing different types and sorts of work. A work exterior is not generally required, because of the absence of contest in a customary office. Coworking spaces are made to have a feeling of the local area, coordinated effort, learning, and maintainability.

Advantages With The Space

Not in the least do Coworking spaces Thane give a work environment, they likewise offer many advantages with the space. These integrate anything from practice spaces, food organizations, gathering rooms, and significantly more conveniences. The capacity to adjust work and individual life increments with offices close by to help your way of life. A portion of those advantages at work area seats include:

• Attendant-level help

• Gathering Rooms and Meeting Rooms

• On-location Gym Style Wellness Center

• Snatch and Go Food and Espresso

• Conveyance and Mail arranging

• Bistro Including Brew and Wine

• Super Rapid Remote Web Access and Backing

More Work Control and Adaptability

Suppose today you need to work during the day, however tomorrow during the evening. At a coworking space, you partake in this power and adaptability. As a specialist, you pick when and where you work. Since participation at the work area seat is month-to-month, you choose if you need to work at a work area or in a confidential suite. We right-size your agreement and space to fit from a one-individual business as far as possible up to a bigger group.

More Feeling Of People group, Less Feeling Of Depression

Telecommuting here and there makes a feeling of detachment. Coworking spaces close this sensation of disengagement. During the day, you work close by a whole room of other coworkers, and, surprisingly, however, the room is brimming with individuals, you picked when and how to connect with different individuals.

Organizing Valuable open doors

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Expansion In Efficiency

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Cost-Productive

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Satisfaction!

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#Coworking spaces Thane

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willifordkbkmccormick · 2 years

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Choosing a Spotting Scope: What Is the Best Spotting Opportunity for You?

Choosing a spotting opportunity is something you want to be sure you get right the first time. These units could be expensive and right now there is plenty of conditions that needs to be able to be met just before you can get sure you are becoming the best spotting scope for an individual needs according to price, weight, length, human body style, optical move, and more. A large multitude of makes use of for spotting scopes. The most typical uses are fowl watching, wildlife seeing, hunting, and astronomy. Irrespective of your pastime, a similar criteria utilize think about a spotting scope. This content discusses the constituents that you will need to take into consideration when buying the spotter. For extra information on certain spotting scope designs, check out typically the link below. Value and Quality: A person get what you pay money for so get with the best an individual can afford! The first item that requires to be considered is price. People have the different budget; it is therefore reasonable to suppose the best spotting scope for you may be different than that of somebody else because of selling price alone. Spotting scope prices range from below $100 to nicely over $3000, and you could bet there are usually a lot in the middle. When deciding upon your finances, it will be important to realize the in good quality that price will get you. First associated with all, you need to spend from least $300 to obtain a spotting scope regarding any type involving quality, although 500 usd is where the standard really starts in order to shine through. Right after that, then your law of diminishing results applies and quality does not rise equally with value. For example, a new $500 scope will be usually two times as good as a $250 scope, but the $1000 scope is often not twice simply because good as a $500 scope. Neither is a $2000 scope twice as good a $1000 scope. There simply isn't that big of a distinction between mid-priced and high-priced unless an individual have them side simply by side. Still, typically the more money an individual spend the greater associated with a scope you'll get. That is exactly why it is significant to go with the particular best scope you are able to afford, because when choosing a spotting range you definitely obtain what you pay out for. Size: Fat, Length and Objective There is some sort of large variance in the size of spotting scopes. That which you use it for can determine how huge you may get by using. If you are planning to fowl watch, hunt, or even view wildlife away from the path, then you can want to pick a spotting scope that may be small enough to pack into some sort of backpack. A good sized scope for this would be one that has an objective lens involving 65mm or fewer, is not substantially over 12 inches, and weighs concerning 36 ounces in addition or minus. You will probably want to spend in a good lightweight tripod. If the needs for some sort of spotting scope will certainly keep you inside sight of your respective motor vehicle or on your own porch, then you undoubtedly can get simply by with a much larger scope. Larger scopes equal more light gathering ability, wider field of watch, and bigger price tag. When working with high end models, it is hard to inform the difference involving larger scopes along with 80mm objectives over scopes with 60mm objectives unless they may be side by part. Even then this difference is only noticeable in low lighting conditions. Like I actually said though, in the event that this scope is usually going to end up being mostly stationary, an individual will not feel dissapointed going with a new larger sized range. Body Style: Upright or Angled

If choosing a spotting scope, one of the primary decisions you will include to make is usually to go along with an aligned or curved body. Both include their pros and cons, although in the ending it all comes up to personal desire. Angled Body: Very best for situations whenever standing as it requires less elevation of your tripod plus will be best for multiple users of various size as it requires less level adjustment. Harder regarding beginners to find activity due to the angle. While good for standing in the particular field, it is definitely harder to load up. Does not work well in all for seeing in a car with a windowpane mount. Straight Body: Easier to get on the intended thing. Easy use with window mount and sitting down in an automobile. Better for packaging. Slightly less high-priced then angled. Taller tripod needed plus more adjustment necessary for multiple users of various height. Author's Desire: Straight is the only way to be able to go for my personal style of looking at. I spend a new lot of moment throughout the year viewing wild animals from the comfort of my personal vehicle with my spotting scope in a window mount. I also put my spotter into my back load up a lot when climbing. I do not proceed anywhere without that therefore i need almost all the space plus pack-ability I am able to find. Optical Zoom: Optical zoom is also a really important factor to add when choosing some sort of spotting scope. Most are variable with a range between 15-75 magnification electric power. reviews want in order to make sure the scope goes reduced enough that that is easy to be able to find a subject expected to the increased field of view and less shakiness. About the other end of the variety, you would like to have the scope that once you find a thing, you could zoom this into get a new close up view from afar. The bigger magnification power you have it set to, the grainier (or less clear) typically the image will probably be. This will also include a smaller field of view, plus movement will be amplified making things seem shakier. With high top quality spotting scopes, the optics supply an ample field of look at, gather a great deal of light source, and give crispy images. This makes it possible to have an apparent image at higher magnification levels. This kind of is not the case on less costly models making the particular image quality weaken as you climb up up in addition. Consequently , if you are in the market for a less expensive spotting scope you will want something with zoom that starts decreased, say around 15 power, and will go up to 40-50 power. With an increase of high-priced spotting scopes a person can get simply by with something of which gives you a lot more magnification and still get yourself a clear image.

#Spotting Scope

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ismail73mcdonald · 2 years

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B2B Portal: A Enterprise Platform to Maximum Productivity Improvement

If somebody tells you that your current present corporate web site can be transformed into a B2B site which will aid you significantly improve your company's productivity both in of the a couple of primary factors: Income Growth and Expense Saving, and that will the portal may be launched in some sort of matter of weeks with a really reasonable investment, what will be your own reaction? Read upon to learn just how corporations all above the world are missing an chance, which could revolutionize the particular way they manage their businesses. What exactly is B2B portal? The portal is defined as an access point to Internet. A portal can be a combination of net pages, features plus services which turn out to be a primary destination for users. The word was first used to describe the sites regarding popular Access to the internet services or search engines such as AOL, GOOGLE and Yahoo! With a later stage, the word "portal" evolved in to something bigger covering business websites, where a corporate portal or even enterprise information site acts as the base for employees, buyers, suppliers and other associates of a company to access business information and web services. A BUSINESS-ON-BUSINESS portal is some sort of distinct type of internet site with features to conduct electronic company and manage substantial parts of corporate business processes. Advantages of having a BUSINESS-ON-BUSINESS web site Today, BUSINESS-ON-BUSINESS portals are not necessarily just a cool idea! They will be an absolute necessity intended for all enterprises associated with any type and even size. The benefits of having a good quality B2B portal are massive. Implementation involving a true high quality B2B portal could have immediate impact upon company productivity. 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E-catalog E-catalog -- some sort of hierarchy of product and service classes based on UNSPCS, a global items and services category method that addresses the broadest variety of industries and items available today, and designed to facilitate elektronischer geschÃ¤ftsverkehr transactions by supplying geography-independent common nombre system. Product Content material Adding Program Product or service adding mechanism dependent on either straightforward wizard or straight forward but detail forms allows users to integrate products or perhaps services with exact and up-to-date information. Product Notification Typically the system can generate an alert in addition to send by electronic mail to the user, who required to inform when a particular item or service gets included in the E-catalog. Numerous other capabilities might be incorporated in order to an existing BUSINESS-ON-BUSINESS portal based on requirement, such as: Media Aggregation using Feed, Contact Management, Digital Journal, Press Space, Document Repository, and so forth Time needed to set up Applying ready made BUSINESS-ON-BUSINESS Portal components from a provider just like Rusbiz. com a method size portal could be built or perhaps integrated to present website within three to four months. By making a B2B portal ahead of your major opponents you can provide your business a new significant boost create your company stand out from typically the crowd. Nowshade Kabir is CEO regarding Rusbiz. com, a worldwide B2B portal regarding small and middle size companies. Our unique web shops along together with many outstanding functions like e-marketplace, e-catalog, supply chain managing solutions, and business leads section may allow you to be able to build robust Net presence and control key business techniques online. Rusbiz furthermore develops Corporate BUSINESS-ON-BUSINESS portals.

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outzenstevenson5 · 2 years

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Hermès Mini Baggage & Hermès Constance Purses For Girls

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nylontramp11 · 2 years

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Chorizo sausage or chicken verde served with flour tortillas, cabbage slaw, pico, queso fresco, black bean salsa, avocado ranch, salsa, and Spanish rice. Topped with recent mozzarella, heirloom tomatoes, recent basil, and drizzled in balsamic glaze.

#外燴

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation.

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right.

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #fic #series #dark fic #dark!fic #laisse tomber les filles #the devil all the time #college au #au

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heroloverangel · 3 years

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Delicate

This is technically a sequel to last year’s Dad Mirio fic but can be read on its own! Everyone’s favorite Wholesome Dilf continues to live rent-free in my brain.

“I miss you soooo much,” Mirio says for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. You give him a comforting smile from your side of the screen, you know how he feels. Your husband’s been gone for three days now helping with a disaster in Osaka, and he probably won’t be home for the rest of the week. It’s hard being married to one of Japan’s top heroes, you think to yourself. You wish you could be there with him, putting your training to good use where it’s needed, but your current assignment is too important to ignore. It’s as if he can read your mind from the other side of the country. “How’s my buddy doing?”

You smile and tilt your camera down to show off your heavy stomach. At eight months pregnant, you’re sidelined from hero work no matter what the crisis is. “He’s alright,” you confirm. “I think he’s bored without you around, though.” He lets out a little whine that’s almost heartbreaking; it’s obvious where he’d rather be right now. You take pity on him and drop the phone level with your belly to give him a better view.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “I promise, I’ll finish as fast as I can so I can come home to you and Mama soon.” You feel movement inside you as he talks. You don’t know how good your baby’s hearing is, especially through the video chat, but you’re sure that he’s reacting to his father’s familiar voice. “I can’t wait to get back and feel how strong you’re kicking in there. I bet you’re driving Mama crazy!” You relax further into your pillows and let him babble on to your bump about his day saving civilians and clearing out rubble, only a little lonely when you look over at the empty half of your bed. You really do miss him, your house is far too quiet and calm without his usual energy filling it.

You yawn after a few more minutes and glance at the time. “Sorry, it’s getting kinda late. Would you mind if we called it a night for now?”

He smiles, but you can tell that he’s trying to hide his disappointment. “No problem, I know you need your sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow, okay?” You agree and tell your husband you love him before hanging up the phone and settling in for bed. You’re tired, but you’ve gotten too comfortable with him sleeping beside you and it takes awhile to fall asleep on your own.

You spend the next morning balancing your laptop over your swollen belly while you browse through maternity clothes. There’s a local shop that promises same-day delivery, and you treat yourself to a few things for your last month. You read through your email, a magazine wants a quick interview for an article about hero families and you’re happy to answer their questions. It’s hard to move too much in your condition, but you make sure to do the prenatal exercises your doctor recommended and then have a nice long shower. Your new clothes arrive and you leave them on the dresser for now while you eat lunch and call your family. It still seems too quiet in the house without Mirio, and you’re getting bored when your phone finally rings and your face lights up at his name.

“Hey sweetheart! I’ve got a surprise for you!”

You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms your heart. “Is it dinner? I think somebody in here’s really craving steak tonight.”

He laughs. “You’ll see. Just have a seat on the couch and close your eyes for a second, okay?”

This isn’t the weirdest thing he’s requested over the phone, and you obey. “Alright, they’re closed. What are you planning, Lemillion?”

“You can open your eyes in three...two...one…” his voice disappears from the phone, all you hear is the background noise of birds chirping.

“Mirio?” Your eyes are still closed.

“SURPRISE!”

You jump in shock and drop your phone, your eyes flying open. He’s standing in front of you with the biggest grin on his face, completely naked. It takes you a second to realize he must have phased through the front door to surprise you. You struggle to stand but fail, and he has to pull you up himself into his arms for a deep kiss. “You’re home early! How’d you manage that?”

“The others knew how much I wanted to get home, with you being pregnant and all, and everybody worked extra hard to cover for me so I could leave first.” You owe every single one of them a thank you gift. “Boy, that Uravity is amazing with rescue work!” Oh, you owe her twice as much after this.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you sigh happily. Your husband drops to his knees in front of you and pushes your shirt up to kiss your stomach, rubbing his hand where he feels a faint kick.

“Me too. I missed our family so much.” His arms wrap around you and he rests his head against your middle. You run your fingers through his hair, both of you taking a minute to relish your little reunion. It’s only been a few days, but it was more than enough to make you homesick for each other.

He stands back up after a bit and you head for the hallway. “You should go grab your phone off the porch and take a shower. I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you too, when you’re done.” He’s happy to obey and you follow him down the hall, pausing at the front door then into the bedroom. You wait for the bathroom door to shut and then spring into action as fast as you can. You clothes come off; you kick them under the bed instead of wasting precious time trying to pick them off the floor.

You reach for the new clothes on the dresser and find the outfit you’d picked for his welcome home gift. The bra is made out of soft white lace so flimsy it looks like it’ll tear if you breathe too hard. It ties closed with a ribbon in the front and your clumsy fingers finally form a decent bow on the third try. A skirt attaches beneath the cups and just skims your thighs, the two halves of it parted to show off your obvious pregnancy. You’re lucky that the matching underwear ties on the sides with more ribbon; you’re not sure you’d be able to get them on without five minutes of struggling if you had to step into them.

You look at yourself in the mirror and adjust the skirt of your lingerie. Despite the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination, you look sweet. Innocent. Delicate. A grin spreads across your face; it’s perfect.

You get dressed just in time; you hear the shower turn off and the door opens a second later. “There, all clean and-” Mirio freezes at the sight of you and you see his fingers twitch against the towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, wow. You look...just, wow.” He’s crossed the room faster than you can react, strong arms wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “You’re so gorgeous like this, babe.”

You lean into his body; you’ve missed this while he was gone. “Well, it’ll be awhile before we can do this again. I figured we should really enjoy ourselves while we still can.” He nods and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. You can tell he’s holding back his strength for your benefit and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.

Mirio recovers from his surprise quickly and returns to his usual unstoppable energy. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise!” His bigger hand is warm around yours as he guides you to your bed, losing his towel in the process. You don’t hide your staring; his body is gorgeous after so many years of training and you could look at him for hours. He sits back against the headboard and carefully brings you with him to straddle his lap, and you feel his cock already growing hard against your thigh. “We’ll take it easy,” he promises. “I know we have to be a little more gentle now since you’re so big-” You stare down at Mirio silently, but he continues. “What? You are big, that’s a good thing. You’re growing our baby in there, he needs all that room!” You just shake your head; you can’t really feel annoyed when he’s this sweet.

He looks up at you with pure affection written all over his face and leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his damp hair. “How can you be this buff and this adorable?” It’s not the first time you’ve asked as much, and every time he laughs you off with a faint blush on his cheeks. You lean in for another kiss while his hands move from your hips over your ribs to the front of your slip.

“This is so pretty, you should keep it on.” He gives your chest a squeeze and you whine, too sensitive from the hormones wrecking havoc on your body. You knew your breasts were going to get bigger, but they’ve turned out to be overachievers and you’ve jumped up two cup sizes already. “They’re still really sore, huh?” You nod and he offers you a comforting smile as he plays with the bow before finally tugging it open. Your nipples are already hard, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips when his thumb brushes over one. “I could help you with that, if you want.”

“Mirio…” You love your husband and all his enthusiasm, but you’re well aware that he can be a little too eager and get carried away. He’s being careful now as his fingers trace against your warm skin, his touch barely teasing you. He pulls you closer; you can feel the smile on his lips as he leans into your neck. He follows your pulse, down your collarbone to leave kisses at the swell of your breast and you sigh. “Okay,” you agree. “Just remember to-”

“I know, be gentle. Don’t worry babe, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He pushes your lingerie out of the way to get a better view at your heavy chest and appreciates the sight of it. “Man, our kid’s not gonna be lacking on calcium, is he?”

“I love you, please stop talking.” He laughs but obeys, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you squirm in his arms. He does it a few times and you let out a little gasp when he takes you into his mouth. “Go easy,” you remind him, but he’s already distracted with his task. You asked your doctor about doing this before and were told it was perfectly fine, but you can’t quite shake the thought that it’s a little weird as Mirio begins to suck at your tender nipple.

You’ve tried this before, but every time he’s been too rough in his excitement and you’ve had to yank his head away from you in pain. Tonight though, he’s trying his best and after a few seconds of discomfort there’s an unfamiliar tingle deep in your breast as your body responds to his stimulation. “It feels weird,” you groan, but your fingers thread into his hair so he won’t pull away. “It’s not bad, just weird.” You’re not entirely sure you like what he’s doing, but you’re willing to continue until you figure it out. His tongue brushes over you with a slightly different motion, and something in you clicks into place. “Can you do that again? I think I liked that.”

His laughter is muffled but still obvious and you can feel the smile against your skin. Mirio’s happy to assist, one strong hand settling on your back to keep you steady. It wasn’t a mistake; he repeats his movements and you realize that it feels good. It feels really good, you have to admit, as his eyes slip closed so he can focus entirely on pleasing you like this. You hold him tight to your body, fingers running through his messy hair while you enjoy the affection so happily given. You’re still sensitive though, and after a few more minutes you start to get overwhelmed and have to pull him away.

“It tastes good.” His grin is huge as he licks his lips. “It’s sweet, just like the rest of you.” You’d roll your eyes if he wasn’t so cute. He gives your breast a gentle squeeze and earns another whimper from you, then turns his attention to the other one. “Don’t want this side feeling left out, right? Lucky I’m here to take care of everything!” Your heart skips a beat, you’re so in love with this silly, wonderful idiot. You don’t get a chance to respond, once his mouth is back on you it’s hard to do anything besides pant and whine for him.

You squirm against him, his dick pressing against your thigh and your panties doing very little to hide how much you’re loving this. “Miriooo,” you moan, and the look in his eyes is nothing but pure happiness that makes you melt. “You always take good care of me,” you coo, reaching down to stroke his cock lightly. “You’re so good to me, honey.” He pulls you closer and releases your chest to look up and meet your eyes.

“Babe, I’m just giving you what you deserve. You’re literally making a brand new, little person in there. If that’s not worth being extra nice, I don’t know what is.” He really has no idea how perfect he is. His thumb brushes over your nipple and your body is so sensitive now it makes you shudder. “Alright now?”

You stop for a second to consider. Your breasts do feel a bit lighter, there’s less pressure weighing down on you after his help. “Yeah, thanks. You’re the best, really.”

He brushes off your compliment in favor of pulling at the strings holding your underwear together. “Just doing my job, miss.” He groans at the sight of you fully naked and traces a finger along the lips of your cunt. You hadn’t noticed just how wet you were getting as he’d worked on your nipples, but now two of his fingers slip inside you with no effort. “I love you so much,” he says with another kiss.

You buck into his hand mindlessly, too eager for his touch after only a few days. You want to hold off and come with his dick buried inside you, but you can’t deny yourself when you’re this needy already. “I want it,” you whine pitifully.

His other hand gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “I know, baby. You can have whatever you want, just tell me.” His thumb swirls over your clit and he doesn’t miss the jolt that runs down your body. “Right there, huh? My pretty little wife wants me to make her come?” His smirk is playful and there’s a glint of mischief in those friendly eyes.

“Mirio, please.” Hearing him talk like that does something to you and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

His hand moves faster and your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. Just let yourself go for me.” His voice is so warm and soothing, you can’t resist. Your orgasm is marked with desperate whispers in his ear as his hand moves gently between your thighs to urge you on. “That’s it, honey. You’re so good, I want more of you.”

It takes you a minute to calm down before you’re able to pry your sweaty face away from his shoulder. His fingers leave you aching to be filled again, and you swallow hard when you watch him bring them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“That’s my girl,” he smiles like the sun and you look away, almost embarrassed by the affection between you two. You can’t see anything past your swollen belly, but you can feel his thick cock ready for a turn. “Are you up for more? It’s fine if you need to wait-”

You fumble blindly for his cock until the tip presses just outside your cunt. “I want you inside me. Here, Mirio. Your pretty little wife wants to make you come.” The blush spreading across his face at your words is a special reward of its own. His hips thrust upward to enter you while he slowly pulls you down to meet him, and your mouth falls open in a long moan. “Fuck, Mirio. We’ll have to wait a couple weeks after he’s born and it’s gonna suck so bad.”

He hasn’t put much thought into this fact and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. “Well then, I guess we’d better make it count while we still have the chance,” he says finally. He’s always so much stronger than you, even when you’re not in such a delicate condition, and easily sets a steady pace moving you up and down his dick. You cling to his shoulders to steady yourself as you ride him, pressing your tongue into hs mouth to devour his sounds. This may be the peak of happiness, with your sweet husband pounding away inside your excited pussy, showering you with compliments about how great you are and how perfect your little family is going to be. “And once he gets a little older, we can start working on his siblings!”

Your hips falter in their rhythm at the suggestion. “S-siblings? Already?”

He grins back at you. “Of course! We need five or six, at least!”

“Five or six…” you repeat, suddenly distracted by the thought of doing this another half-dozen times. You don’t know why you’re surprised, it’d be more of a shock if he didn’t have infinite love to share. The idea doesn’t bother you, and you find yourself returning his smile with a smirk of your own. “You really wanna fill me up that much, Lemillion?”

You’re not expecting his thrusts to speed up so much or for him to pull you down so hard you’re gasping for air. “God, babe. So much. I think about it like, all the time now. You have no idea.” He stops to kiss you again, and your cunt squeezes hard around him. “I can take more time off of work,” Mirio insists mindlessly, getting far too ahead of himself. “I bet I can hold so many babies at once.”

You laugh, he’s so ridiculous sometimes. “Let’s just focus on this one for awhile, okay?” He nods, trailing his lips down your throat to feel how fast your pulse is racing for him. You can feel another orgasm building, and that he isn’t far behind. You were only apart for three days but it seems like far too long. “You’re really, really the best.”

He cups your sweaty face in one hand, the look in his eyes so soft and loving it takes your breath away. There aren’t enough words to describe how much you love him right now, and clearly it’s the same for him. Wordlessly he releases you and drags his hand down your body, stopping to tweak your nipples and making you cry out. His fingers drop to rub firmly against your clit, and your back goes rigid. “Miri-ohh. Just like that, I’m gonna...there, fuck.” You clamp down hard on his cock with a loud moan and he holds you tight, supporting your overworked body while you come. “Here,” your voice is ragged. “Your turn, I know you’re dying to come inside me.”

“You’re amazing, honey.” That last compliment is all he gets out before his pace goes sloppy and you feel him flooding your pussy with a low groan. “You’re so amazing.”

You cling to him while he gradually wears himself out and stay wrapped up in his arms for the next few minutes. Eventually, there’s a firm kick in your belly that informs you that someone noticed all your movement and he’s not happy about it. Both of you laugh as you separate; you flop down on the bed while Mirio cleans you up and finds you a comfy, oversized shirt and fresh panties to wear. It’s still fairly early, and you won’t be tired enough to sleep for a few hours.

“Now that was a welcome home gift. You should just wear that around the house until you have the baby, it looks really great on you.”

You ruffle his messy hair. “I don’t think it would survive the entire month around you,” you tease. You stretch your arms above your head and feel a grumble in your stomach. “So, the surprise wasn’t steak for dinner tonight?”

He’s in too good of a mood to even think of denying you. “It is now!” He’s already fumbling for his phone to look up menus. “Whatever you wanna eat, just say the word!”

Sometimes you wonder how you ever got so lucky.

#lemon #bnha x reader #mirio togata x reader #pregnant/breed kink #lactation mention

154 notes · View notes

rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

Hello! I'm watching The Alienist- Angel of Darkness, and I keep thinking of a fic where laszlo's wife!reader just gave birth and this case worries the poor man more than usual, because their baby is in danger and he can't get into the assassin's mind. Perhaps the reader could offer to breastfeed laszlo, and they have an in-depth conversation about the workings of the killer's mind and why the reader herself enjoys nurturing her husband. Perhaps it would even become a habit after the case was solved and every time Doctor Kreizler wanted some milk, he would let her know with a touch just below her breast that would go unnoticed in public as a gesture of affection? I think I thought about it too much, what do you think about writing about it?

The Marriage of Happiness [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: erotic lactation, breastfeeding kink, mention of other kinks and of murder

A/N: What do I think about writing it? I think THANKY YOU because I could write Laszlo having a boobie obsession for the rest of my life. I do think about it daily and it is just THE kink for him (as poor @cazzyimagines knows how obsessed I am). The case of studies mentioned are taken from psychology books of the time. I don''t know what point you're with Angel of Darkness so I am not giving out too much.

The night was dark and tensed, not a soul on the streets of the residential area you lived in with your husband, the only light up the one in your bedroom.

You became mother three months before welcoming the first little Kreizler of her generation. It was hard but worth every second, every moment of the pregnancy and the delivery your husband was with you. You were lucky, you felt lucky to be with a man like Laszlo: open minded, modern, charming and righteous.

You smiled walking around the room as you lulled your baby humming a soft lullaby, the baby observing you with dazzling eyes, you could see she was tired and the melody kept her attentive but also lulled her to a place of comfort.

You swayed slowly in a gentle waltzer, your arms embracing the tiny body wrapped up into the finest white clothing. You yourself wore your white nightdress with a dark green cover up that Laszlo gifted you, it was slightly bigger in size so you’d use it though the whole pregnancy, your hair loosely braided.

The baby opened her mouth making a soft sound, she was calm and relaxed, to see her like this brought you an immense joy.

You heard steps approaching to the door, the house was empty since Stevie was with Laszlo and the cook you hired was in her quarters, you wouldn’t be worried if your husband wasn’t working on a case of abducted babies, but then you followed Laszlo’s common sense and listened instead of letting your mind worry. You listened to the steps coming one after the other, the weight of them, the pace.

You smiled to yourself as you guessed right, your husband appeared on the door frame and the shadow over his face disappeared for a moment meeting your standing figure with the baby. Since the case begun he refused to have any new staff in the house, he brought the bed of the baby in your bedroom, which wasn’t common back then, and every night sent Stevie to roam around the streets before going to bed to see if there was any obscure presence.

“My love” he said with a smile as he walked his way toward you undoing his jacket as you offered him a look of the falling asleep baby. His left hand gently caressing the little chest to feel the breathe of life in it. The baby blinked at him and smiled. Your baby girl was an early smiler, she smiled in her first month which just ripped off her father soul, tucked it in her little pocket and sold him forever. He was already ecstatic to be a father, only the announcement of your pregnancy got him wild, a mix of worry and tenderness always over him. The constant fear to be losing it. To lose what you brought to his life, not only his daughter but that happiness, the home feeling, the meaning to have something to come back to at night.

He loved you like a flower loves the water, he loved you more than metaphors can explain. He closed his eyes pressing his forehead against your temple, you rocked the baby gently in your arms as she relaxed, the sleep over her even if the presence of her father stirred her a bit.

“I am so worried for her” he murmured, he couldn’t cope with it anymore. The pressure to be following that case.

Sara told him to drop it, but he couldn’t. He owed it to Martha Napp, he owed him to his own child. To be in the case put his darling baby into the spotlight, but the best chance to solve it and avoid the menace of losing the apple of his eyes was to fight the crime from the inside.

And yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t get inside it.

He looked up and noticed your eyes on him, you detected the twist into his mind, the fear, the tremble of his intentions.

You kissed his cheek as his head was bowed slightly before slowly moving away to lean the baby into her cradle.

“Get comfortable” you urged him softly as he nodded to you undoing his jacket and his waist coat shrugging them off his shoulders as you adjusted the baby into her usual sleeping position, you pulled the covers over her caressing her head full of dark blonde hair like her father had as a child. You brushed them gently as she stirred and relaxed again, a soft sound coming from her mouth. She was well dressed, well fed and happy, you knew your child had all the possibilities in life to be the most charming and smartest woman of her times.

You moved the little veils on top of the crib to shield her from the dim lights of the room before pacing your way back to your husband.

Laszlo was sat on your shared bed. His eyes focused in the nothing in front of him. His waistcoat and jacket abandoned as he wore only his candid white shirt and dark pants.

You picked the hooked needle as you slowly bowed to your knees, he blinked surprised for a moment as you begun to undo his boots silently. You knew him, you gave him time to express himself. He was elaborating still, collecting ideas after a day spent talking back and forth with Sara.

“I saw the body” he said as you looked up.

“The body of Martha Napp’s baby” he added and you frowned, the poor woman, you couldn’t imagine yourself in her position. You’d probably be accused of murder too because you’d probably become feral if somebody touched your baby.

“Are you sure it is her baby?”

You knew he was sure, but the hope still fazed you.

“The child was poisoned, the deadly pallor was evident but Martha mentioned her child had an identifying contusion” he took a pause, he licked his lips as you could almost see him relieve the scene in his mind “A benign hemangioma under her left axilla”

He looked at you, to see the corpse of a baby, a baby that could be his, to find out a baby girl was abducted and this time in a well known residential area. The anxiety took over him. He was pestered by dark worries, images that saw you in a state of loss and disruption like the poor Señora Linares.

His eyes rested onto you, your calm firmness made him shake at times. His strong and aggressive demeanour might show him as the rock of the couple, but you are. You’re the one that can overcome things, that can see clearly when his mind is clouded.

“Might that child soul rest now with her mother, if you allow me I will take care of organising the burial along with the mother’s corpse as soon as the Isaacson’s have concluded their inspections on it”

He looked at you, a soft smile crept on him. Your thoughtful self always finding the cure to the pain. He saw the failure and you found the ultimate resolution. You could not join them in life, let it be in death.

You gave him a warm smile before finishing with both his boots and pulling them out, your hands slowly tracing his calves and ankles resting your chin on his knee to interject his eyes.

“Darling”

He blinked, he zoned out again and your voice called him back.

“I apologise” he only said

You stood up, his eyes lingering over your body for a moment. You healed like a true champion after the delivery, in few weeks you were back on your feet like nothing, in a month you were able to attend events. Your energy and vitality made you seem immortal to his eyes, which triggered his fears of loss even more.

Something so special, so strong like you, the idea to see you broken in any shape or form poisoned his soul and tortured his heart.

“Laszlo” once again, you called him back to reality as you sat beside him “you’re not thinking clearly”

He huffed softly, you were right.

“I can’t focus” he admitted finally taking your hand in his “I even upset the señora with my questions, enraged Sara, I feel like an headless chicken rushing around to find answers I can’t deal with. The scientific community protecting a butcher, John doing all he can at the newspaper and yet I am providing nothing to this investigation but background noise” he frowned deeply.

You could tell he was doing it for Martha and for you. He wanted to protect you and he tried to keep you far from all that darkness.

“Come” you said as you moved to your spot on the bed relaxing your legs as you adjusted some pillows behind your back “come on”

You hushed him and he obeyed quietly crawling on the bed, his frown still present. You hated to see him like that. Usually he was able to keep cases of study and worries outside of the bedroom, but this case was too personal.

You smiled at him as you undid the silly bow on your neck that kept the upper part of your night gown up. It was a maternity gown so to undo that little knot exposed the sensual curve of your breasts in a second. His eyes indulged over that little silky cloth twisted around your finger and the stars of little moles on your chest, he knew each of them by memory, he knew the scent of your perfume and the oils you use after bathing.

He looked up at you with a questioning look, he mindlessly run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip when you exposed your juicy breasts. He always had a thing for them, he was always enchanted by the feminine chest as the highest form of femininity, big or small, that sensual shape was the epitome of life, of the charms of Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Mother Earth personified into the sacred body of his wife.

His eyes darted up back at you, a silent question on him as you didn’t let his confusion overwhelm you, you fought it with calmness and temperance.

“I know only one way to calm a restless Kreizler”

Your words would have made him smile as your open arms weren’t such a charming offer. He run his tongue again over his upper lip this time, using his left arm as support he slowly slipped closer to you.

His face leaned to yours as you didn’t seem to have changed your mind.

Somebody else would have maybe found it repulsive, a man of simple and good heart like John would have felt that kind of attention misplaced.

But not him.

He lowered himself over your chest adjusting into a nice position as you used few extra pillows you had there to ensure him a comfortable stay. His nose gently brushed over the inside of your chest, his hot breath hitting over your skin as he looked up at you once more and once more a welcoming smile followed his gaze.

He leaned down once again, lips parted to gently capture your nipple among them. Your mouth gaping lightly as he sucked a bit too much at the beginning sending shivers down your spine but just like any child his sucking revealed his anxiety to be fed, his fear and his need of protection.

You wrapped one arm around him as with the other you brushed his hair, your nails gently scratching his scalp to relax him, fingers combing his always well kept hair.

You watched his eyes flutter closed as you resumed your usual humming. It wasn’t a real lullaby, it was some of a rhythm you got stuck in your head.

“You’re here and I am here, our baby is safe from the world outside and nothing bad can happen” you narrated softly to him “you’re the most amazing man I have ever met, I know that the clarity of your thinking will come back. Just stop the world for a moment, it will all be back when the time comes right”

He hummed softly as you fell silent gently caressing him as you observed him lovingly, the fingers of his weak right hand toying with your braid. His beard hitching a bit in the beginning but you got soon used to it, you didn’t speak up anymore, you felt him relax more and more and you also did. This new kind of bond felt pleasurable and sweet, you felt to have reached a new kind of intimacy which is all you could hope for your marriage.

The time passed in silence, not a sound disturbing you until Laszlo’s relaxed body stretched lightly, the common knowledge telling you that the baby is fed.

He pulled back slowly before resting a kiss over your chest in a silent thank you.

He rested his head over your lap observing you like some Madonna staring at him with you gentle tenderness, not even Michelangelo could have grasped the beauty of your act or the absolute unfiltered love of your gaze.

“Was it pleasurable for you?”

He asked as you smiled gently caressing his cheek and his beard

“It was, you are really gentle” you answered. Another thing that you loved about your marriage was the unfiltered expression of feelings. You both looked for clarity through the eyes of your partner.

“Does it makes me your child?”

You smiled understandingly. This is your Laszlo, inquiring, curious, witty.

“No, no I don’t have a feeling that resemblance to breastfeed a child, it is more deep, more bound into my mind as an act of” you stopped thinking about it.

“Communion?”

He dared and you nodded as that was the right word.

“There’s a 1903 study, a German alienist suggested practicing erotic lactation as a way to deepen the relationship between husband and wife in a book called Die Offenbarung im Weibe, quite of a title I’d say, but he advised it as a good way to family plan, to give both the partners pleasure and he focused most of his studies over the idea of women’s sexual satisfaction being vital to the creation of an happy marriage.”

“It pleases me, I won’t deny it and it is a way that makes me feel you closer to me but in a more primal way, closer to the way sex works but with a different meaning”

He nodded as he toyed still with your brain slowly, a little fetish he just noticed in himself still doomed by the charm of unfiltered pure femininity.

Long hair, breasts, welcoming hips, all details that attracted him and drawn him toward you.

“There’s a study case, a man, a very wealthy one, he was obsessed with female hair. The smell, the composition, the touching” he paused as he toyed with yours among his fingers “He wouldn’t be able to suppress his desire, he confessed me his deepest fantasy was to have an orgasm while kissing the female hair and burying his head through them. It was peculiar but not harmful until he got himself a pocket knife, one of those not even good for a little pickpocketing but just as good to be able to cut some ladies’s hair in a crowd”

You kept caressing his hair yourself, probably moved also by the story, observing it and enjoying the texture.

“Do you think the killer of children needs to posses his fetish then?”

He nodded as you’re so smart.

“The possession is part of the final abdication of a person to their fetish, to be up to crime to own the desired being just proves the final commitment to the satisfaction of one’s desires” he explained to you and he paused now almost asking to himself “why would somebody steal a child then?”

You turned around looking at the crib where your baby girl rested.

“Because my crib is empty” you said and his eyes widened lightly.

“Tell me more, try to imagine it”

You frowned lightly as you moved your hands away from him, making distance, imagining the loneliness of empty arms, the excruciating pain of having a child and then not having it anymore.

“I need to give my love to my child” you said then taking a pause, your eyes staring to some unknown spot of the room “and if my child is not there, I will make sure that there will be”

Laszlo sat up as he stared at you.

“But that child won’t resemble you, your child was special and peculiar in its own way, this child grows up, changes, blabbers words while yours didn’t”

He pushed this image in you as you came to the only reasonable deduction you’d do if you were in such a state

“Then that is not my child” you said only “my child is somewhere else and this one is an impostor”

Laszlo nodded “So you get rid of it as soon as the reality outgrows the fantasy”

He concluded.

You looked at him as he stared back at you, a woman, the killer must be a woman that lost a child or got it taken away from her. She finds surrogates and dismisses them, she probably never saw her baby grow so they can’t grow.

“What would I do without you?”

You smiled at his words “you’d be completely lost, we both know about it” you said kissing his lips having a taste of your own medicine “now get into your night clothing, you’ll see Sara tomorrow to give her this new perspective.”

He smiled, not even a trace of the worried and confused Laszlo that stepped I the room before. He was back to his senses, his mind active, he could see with clarity.

- - - - - - -

The case unveiled itself, proof after proof, run after run, document after document he came to the solution.

He was proud, you and the baby were safe and now he could go back to the everyday.

“I don’t see the point Laszlo, you have proved yourself enough against him” John said as he stared up at his annoyed features s you served him some more tea.

John looked at you like why are you not stopping him but you just smiled it off relaxing in the loveseat beside your husband as John shook his shoulders like an annoyed bird.

“A man like Dr Markoe after all he did holding a public lecture with the anguishing title of Murder, Madness and Motherhood?” Laszlo snapped back at John “please, the least I can do is to humiliate him in front of the whole academic arena”

Laszlo leaned back smiling at his friend like he was just a poor fool.

“He will again fight on you, you know he always picks up on you for treating mostly children and being part of the investigation, you get heated with him and you lose your control”

John seemed only to know reasons to get Laszlo to desist, you understood him from your part, your husband was a fiery character and he hardly forgive people with quick and poor judgements. You also noticed he became way more aggressive toward Markoe since before the case, he always depicted pregnant women as prone to lose control, foolish and behaving like animals that had to be kept on a tight leash, it all in particular when you were expecting.

John’s tsunami of words couldn’t be stopped he had a reason not to do anything but your attention was quickly taken away by the soft touch of Laszlo’s hand on your side, just above the hem of your corset, his thumb tracing the side of your boob giving you a shiver as you already knew perfectly what he was demanding.

You could now tell that John actually made him feel unsure or at least unsettled him, he needed comfort and energies to face his enemy now.

Sara groaned making herself heard for the first time, she noticed his gesture and found it actually cute as she could never wish Laszlo with somebody more perfected than you. Your calmness matched his fiery nature, you talked when he needed to think, you smiled when he couldn’t. You allowed him to be more himself than he had ever been.

“Let’s go John, you’re being so obnoxious, at what time we will see the butchery of the doctor?”

You quickly answered to her giving her a gentle smile as she put John to silence.

She asked as she stood up and John groaned following her “See you there” John said still saying how useless it was to still go after that man.

Laszlo stood up escorting them to the exit and then coming back to the living room. You sat there like he left you, he would close the door behind his back locking it before crossing the room with long steps and close the curtains letting the darkness wrap around you. Your fingers slowly undoing your shirt as his shape takes again form in front of you as he turns on one lamp in the corner of the room before moving closer to you again, eyes shining even in the obscurity as his fingers finally meet with your skin once you undid the first knots on your corset.

“Give me life” he would plead to you before lacing his lips your nipple once more.

You knew from the first suck on your nipple how Markoe held no chance on today’s debate.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

#dr laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler drabble #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr kreizler #laszlo kreizler fic #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler headcanons #tw: lactation kink

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

Obnoxious Couple | Stiles Stilinski

✦ pairing — Stiles Stilinski x female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.3k

✦ request — Obviously the reader(female preferably) would be plus sized. Maybe, she’s having a bad day concerning her weight and image. And she compares herself to Lydia and Allison. So she wants comfort from Stiles but he’s not there atm so she takes in of his hoodies, which doesn’t fit correctly,and she gets frustrated and stiles walks in and sees her distress and then comforts her. Maybe end it with a minor make out sesh. But nothing beyond that?

✦ warnings — angst, self-esteem issues, some vagueness in an attempt to not trigger anybody’s dysmorphia, light fluff.

════════════════════════

Stiles found you crying at the foot of the bed, arms tangled in black fabric as sobs raked your body.

It wasn’t the first time he saw you cry, he knew it wouldn’t be the last either, but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Baby,” he softly spoke to get your attention.

You lifted your head, startled. Embarrassment washed over you, only making you sob harder.

He approached you slowly as though you were a hurt animal, frowning as he tried to figure out what you were wearing.

Crouching down, he hesitated as his hand trembled. He eventually placed it on your back.

You couldn’t stop crying — you didn’t know how you’d ever look at him in the eye and explain what was going on.

Your day started poorly, honestly. From the moment you made the mistake of looking at yourself in the mirror while attempting to get ready, you knew it would be one of those days.

It made you consider canceling plans with your friends which in hindsight you should have done.

But you didn’t. You sucked it up and met Allison and Lydia. You missed them, life often got in the way and you didn’t want to lose them just because you weren’t teenagers with free time anymore.

However, the moment you arrived at the meeting point, you knew how badly you had fucked up. They looked so pretty and so happy to see you — that should have been enough, and it was until you observed Allison was wearing her partner’s oversized t-shirt.

People weren’t supposed to feel like shit around their friends, even less when their friends had missed them and are glad to see them. So feeling like shit prompted you to feel guilty.

You knew it wasn’t completely rational, but you couldn’t help the way you felt.

You came up with an excuse to leave early. Allison and Lydia knew you were lying, but they let you be — you needed space.

You truly did, but you didn’t want to be alone. And when you felt like not being alone although it would be wiser, you always went to Stiles.

He wasn’t home. He didn’t tell you he’d be busy or what he’d do while you were out so everything you could do was wait.

Your shared bedroom felt too big without him and too small all at once.

Big. Big. Big. Big. Your brain wasn’t helping.

Comfort became a need as the minutes passed. You had always found Stiles’s scent comforting and seeing as he didn’t seem to be getting home soon, you took the liberty to pick a piece of clothing from his closet.

As you inhaled his scent, you remembered how good Allison looked in her partner’s clothes.

That was what lead you to cry on the bedroom floor, stuck in your boyfriend’s hoodie.

You knew the idea had been silly, he was smaller than you, but you had to try to fit in his clothes. You had always wanted to wear something of his.

“I just wish I could wear your clothes like my friends wear their partners’.” Admitting it was not only embarrassing but unbelievably sad.

You had never told him how you felt about sharing clothes so he wouldn’t get upset. What if he didn’t even want to wear yours?

“I know.” He rubbed your back in circles. “But their partners are bigger than me.”

“Well, your girlfriend is bigger than their girlfriends,” you bitterly answered. “And than you.”

He sighed heavily. “Did you expect me to change my body when I started dating you?”

“No.”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to change yours either. I’m not an asshole.” He made a pause then admitted, “I mean, I am, but not like that and not towards you.”

You attempted to huff a laugh, but your clogged nose didn’t let you.

He wiped your tears. “Let’s get you out of this thing and clean your pretty face.”

You lifted your arms, avoiding his face as you waited for him to get you unstuck from his hoodie.

Stiles tugged on the fabric and pulled the hoodie off you. “Oooh, is this new?” he asked, referring to your blouse.

You nodded.

“It’s pretty. You look good.” He threw the hoodie onto the bed and stood up. “You need help?”

“No. I’ll wash my face in the bathroom.”

You looked down at the sink as you stood in the bathroom. You felt stupid for crying over a hoodie that didn’t fit; clothes hadn’t fit you before and it had never hurt like this.

Cold water hit your skin and you reminded yourself to avoid the mirror as you lifted your head to dab your face dry.

What would Stiles think of you now? Would this make him realize he wanted to be with somebody who fit in his clothes?

It took you some courage to go back to the bedroom.

“Come here, baby.” Stiles patted the other side of the bed.

He had already changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. As you approached him, you observed the tv control was on his lap.

You sat with your back against the headboard. “What are you watching?”

“Nothing yet.”

You hummed.

“Hey.” He placed his hand on your thigh so you’d look at him. When you did, he said, “You can always talk to me when you have a bad day.”

“I know.” In fact, you often told him how you were feeling and why, but this particular thing was different. “It’s kinda embarrassing, though... I mean, it’s not something I can suddenly change, is it?”

“No,” he admitted. “I just don’t want you to go through that all by yourself.”

“Yeah, but you’ll tell me there’s nothing wrong with me or whatever and—“ You interrupted yourself.

“And what?”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to put it out there and manifest it or something.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, but it’s normal to feel bad sometimes.” He turned the TV off, shuffling on the bed to face you properly. “Look, I get insecure every time you hang out with your tall coworker, but you come home to me, so who cares?”

“Yeah, but come on! You fit in my clothes but I don’t fit in yours, it’s...”

“Cute?”

You glared at him.

“I think it’s cute,” he assured you. “Besides, you smell better than I do.”

“I like the way you smell.”

“You can wear other things I own. A scarf? I think you’d look beautiful in my yellow scarf.”

“That’s a nice scarf,” you conceded.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “We can also wear matching jackets or something if you want.”

“You hate it when people wear matching clothes.”

“Maybe it’s time we become an obnoxious couple.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Resting your head on his shoulder, you told him, “I think we’re already obnoxious.”

“How dare you?” he feigned offense. “We’re perfect, baby.”

“Whatever you say.”

He wiggled his shoulder so you’d lift your head.

You did so and gazed at him. “What?”

“Give me a kiss.”

You gave his lips a peck. Stiles frowned and reached over to take you by the face. He brought you onto him and captured your lips with his.

Kissing him back, you shifted so you wouldn’t hurt him or yourself. Stiles prodded your mouth open and deepened the kiss, holding you tight.

Once you parted, you rested your forehead on his. He smiled at you. “You know I love you, right? Like a lot?”

“I know.” You inhaled and exhaled softly. “I love you too. So much.”

“Mmhmm. I like hearing it.”

It was your time to smile.

As the day came to an end, the room got darker and although you didn’t know what time it was exactly, you knew many hours had passed since you left your friends.

“I should probably text Lydia and Allison...”

“Yeah, you should.” Stiles allowed you to move as he sat up. “Can I choose what we watch?”

You nodded before leaving the bed in search for your cellphone.

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x plus size reader #stiles stilinski

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orionwhispers · 3 years

Text

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals.

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

#tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot

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vukovich · 3 years

Note

peculiar prompts: fuck or die, but their dicks get bigger every second

A Mounting Problem

"Don't eat those." Ron came around the bend in the trail. Draco scoffed and picked several more scarlet berries, adding them to the pile in Harry's outstretched shirt.

"They're wild cherries," Harry said.

"This," Ron swept his arm out over the lush valley, "is an old wizarding land preserve." He pointed at the thorny bush. "And those are twiggenberries, not cherries."

Draco stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. "Are, too."

"What would you know about foraging, Malfoy? You hadn't eaten a meal outdoors until this week."

Draco scrunched his face up and mimicked Ron.

"Fine." Ron adjusted his pack and side-stepped around them. "Don't be late to the top of the rise. And don't eat those berries til you're back home. Alone."

"Yes, Father," Draco said snidely to Ron's retreating back.

Harry pretended to gag.

"Heard that!" Came Ron's voice.

Harry swatted a mosquito against the inside of the tent and shot Draco a triumphant grin, but Draco's attention was on the bag of berries in his lap.

"Ron said not to eat those here."

"Ron says a lot of things. I'm hungry." He crossed his outstretched legs over his sleeping bag and Harry wondered if he shouldn't hand-feed Draco.

"Someone failed to guard the camp from raccoons." Draco popped a big, glossy berry in his mouth. "And someone cost us what smelled like a wonderful crockpot of chili."

"I said I was hanging back to take a nap, and I did. I didn't know none of you latched the crockpot." Harry rolled onto his side and clicked a small lantern on. "Give me one."

Harry opened his mouth and flicked his gaze back and forth between the berries and Draco's eyes. Draco let him look like a confused fish for a few moments before selecting a berry.

They were large, for wild berries. Almost like small plums, but a bit more pointed at one end, and deep red. Draco traced it over Harry's bottom lip before shoving it in, and then followed with his fingers for good measure.

Harry grunted in surprise, but sucked Draco's fingers clean before biting into the berry. It popped open in a rush of cloyingly-sweet bubblegum, and broke against the roof of his mouth like an overripe grape. He grabbed a bottle of water from the foot of his sleeping back to dilute the overwhelming taste.

Draco smirked and shoved what had to be his fourth or fifth one into his mouth.

"You can have the rest," Harry said, capping his water and laying down.

He clicked off the light, and Draco sealed the bag and laid down next to him. Harry started drifting off almost immediately, but Draco tossed and turned.

Harry cracked an eye and was met with Draco's eyes glinting in the filtered moonlight. "Do you think they're awake?"

"Ron and Hermione?"

"No, the wampus cats. Of course Ron and Hermione."

"Probably not. I think they hiked twelve miles today. Why?"

Draco walked fingers over their sleeping bags toward Harry's chest, and then diverted southward.

"No reason..."

"They're heavy sleepers."

"Mm hm..."

Draco tugged at the drawstring on Harry's pajama bottoms. Harry bit back a smile and let him pick at the knot until Draco started muttering swear words under his breath.

Harry rolled on his back and unceremoniously shucked his pants and pajamas off, and threw his t-shirt on the pile at the foot of his sleeping bag.

He couldn't read Draco's expression, so he clicked the lantern back on. Wonderment. Draco was staring at Harry's dick in absolute wonderment. Harry was flattered, then aroused, but then mildly alarmed, because Draco just kept staring.

Harry glanced down and didn't see anything more interesting than his own erection, and still Draco watched it, and Harry watched him. But... why would he be hard already?

Harry wrapped a hand around his semi-hard dick, but his fingers only just met around it. That wasn't right.

Draco tilted his head to one side. "I think those were psychedelic berries."

"Oh, shit," Harry whispered. He worked his fist over the head of his cock, just in case this turned out to be a really good trip. "Oh... shiiiiit. How many did you eat?"

"Five?" Draco licked his lips. "Your dick looks bigger."

Harry stopped stroking. "I think it is bigger."

Harry's thumb and middle finger couldn't touch, and felt like they were actively being pushed way. The skin of his cock grew achingly tight and over-sensitive.

"Shit. What do we do?"

Draco scooted closer. "I can think of several things to do."

Panic rose a cold sweat over Harry's chest. "What should we do?"

"Again, I can think of-"

"RON!" Harry shouted.

A rustle in the other tent, followed by a groan, and "Wassit?"

Draco leaned down slowly, eyes on Harry, sneaking his mouth closer to Harry's dick and fooling no one.

"What do those berries do?" Harry shouted, then swallowed a whimper as Draco's lips spread over the head of his cock.

"The fuck you think a twiggenberry does?" Ron grumbled. An owl hooted nearby. "You didn't eat one, did you?"

"Uhm." Draco's tongue against the tight-stretched skin was already too much. "Yes."

"Guess it could be worse. You gotta get somebody to help you blow your load before your dick drains your blood supply." The owl hooted again, and it sounded rather concerned. "Doesn't work if you do it on your own."

Draco slurped enthusiastically and winked.

"Sounds like you've got it under control. And I've got ear plugs. Good thing you only ate one. G'night."

"Ron! RON!" Harry tugged Draco up by the hair. "Shit. Now what?"

Draco held Harry's gaze while he slid his tongue out and prodded Harry's dick with the tip. "Mm?"

Harry nodded and tried to relax as Draco's mouth enveloped him. He blew out a long breath and forced himself to not think about anything but the wet heat sliding over his cock. Not about dying with an enormous dick hanging out. Merlin help him if Dumbledore met him on a platform in this condition.

Draco shifted, snuck a hand in his own pajamas, and moaned around Harry's cock.

"Fuck," Harry whispered. Draco's shoulder shook as he stroked himself in time to his mouth on Harry. He moaned again, and tension build at the base of Harry's cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

Draco wrapped both hands around Harry's thick length, and the pressure in his hips broke, spilling into Draco's mouth. Harry's breath shuddered out as Draco slowed, swallowed, and grinned at him.

"I've got something for you." He rose up on his knees and Harry's dick gave a feeble throb at the size of the tent in Draco's pants. "Roll over, size queen."

It wasn't that Draco wasn't well-endowed. He was... fine. But Harry's tastes ran... larger. A lot larger. Like the bludger bat of a cock Draco was wrangling out of his shorts.

Draco reached into a bag, then tossed a tube of lube on Harry's pillow. That dick was so perfect Harry could have cried. And he did.

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Draco straddled Harry's thighs and plopped down, massive erection slapping against Harry's spent cock.

"Uhm... What's wrong?"

"I ate-" Harry sobbed. "-the chili."

"Okaayyyy..." Draco shook his head and waited for Harry to explain, but comprehension bloomed over Draco's face. "There were no raccoons?! Harry James Potter, you ate half a crockpot of chili and blamed raccoons?!"

Harry nodded and hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

"I HAD TO EAT BONER BERRIES FOR DINNER AND NOW YOUR VERY FUCKABLE ARSE IS FULL OF CHILI?!"

Harry nodded again. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, I am not putting my dick in that."

"I'm really, really sorry."

"I'll bet you are." He felt Draco's breath against his ear. "Sorry you're not getting your greedy little hole stretched open by this."

Draco pressed his cock along Harry's abdomen for emphasis. He ran his chin down Harry's jawline and sighed. "Wanker."

Harry moved his arms, sniffled, and snuck a kiss on Draco's nose before he sat back up. "I guess wanking, it is. I don't think I can fit it in my mouth."

Draco walked his knees up to Harry's waist and sat on his flaccid dick. Hard.

"I always had a theory that Parseltongues could unhinge their jaws like snakes."

Harry only half-heard Draco, because the dick sitting on his chest was fucking amazing. It was still Draco's, but huge. He would have gladly impaled himself on this beast of a dong, but no. The chili had smelled too damn good.

Draco flipped the cap on the lube open and emptied it out on what was rapidly becoming a third leg. Harry wrapped both hands around it, and the overlap of his fingers shrank as he watched.

He stroked, slow and steady, trying to keep a familiar routine in a very new situation. Draco's head lolled to the side, and his lips pressed against his own shoulder. Harry smiled softly and tightened his grip. Even full of dick-enhancing berries, Draco couldn't come without his lips against bare skin, even if it was his own.

Draco tilted forward, but caught himself. He wavered above Harry.

"I'm dizzy."

Harry looked up and met glassy, vacant eyes. His fingers barely met around the dick in his hands.

"Oh, shit." His mind raced. "Lay down. Lay down on me right now."

Draco fell forward, chest on Harry's face. Harry grabbed Draco's hips and pushed him down until their lips met. "Shit. Draco, stay awake."

Draco hummed against Harry's lips, and Harry stroked dick like Draco's life depended on it. Up and over the swelling head, thumbs working the underside of Draco's cock until Draco's back stiffened.

Cool lips found Harry's, and Draco whimpered, hitched, and the dick in Harry's hands throbbed. Hot rivulets flowed through his fingers, and he absently thought a cock that big should put out a whole lot more come than this.

Draco sighed into Harry's neck. "That was good."

Harry slid his hands out from between them and wiped them on Draco's arse. "That was close, is what that was."

"Mm hm."

"Are you just going to fall asleep on top of me?"

"Mm hm."

Harry woke at dawn to a startled owl hoot, a scuffle outside his tent, and then the walls of the tent shaking violently. He popped up on his knees to look through the mesh window.

The sun was just peeking over the treetops, and Hermione stood outside, hands on their tent, hair in a tight braid, dressed for a hike already.

"Get up, losers! We're going berry-picking!"

#peculiar prompts #drarry #drarry smut #drarry crack #fuck or die #size kink #hbd fwoosharoo

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