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astrologyzodiacsigns · 9 months

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Asteroid Leviathan (8813) in the Signs & Houses

Meaning of the Leviathan:

The root word of Leviathan is associated with winding or coiling, suggesting a twisting or serpentine nature. In ancient Jewish and Christian tradition, Leviathan is often depicted as a monstrous sea creature or a sea serpent, symbolizing chaos, destruction, and untamed nature.

In the Book of Job, Leviathan is described as a fearsome and awe-inspiring creature with impenetrable scales and a fiery breath. It is portrayed as a creature of immense power, unapproachable by mortals. In the Book of Psalms, Leviathan is depicted in a more poetic manner, being one of the many marvelous creatures of the sea, reflecting the grandeur and diversity of God's creation.

Throughout history, the term "Leviathan" has also been used metaphorically to describe anything of enormous size, power, or influence. It has appeared in various literary works, philosophical discussions, and religious interpretations, often representing formidable and overwhelming forces that challenge humanity or the order of the world.

Leviathan in the Signs:

Leviathan in Aries: In Aries, Leviathan emerges as an unstoppable force of fiery and unbridled energy. Individuals with this placement possess an immense power that can ignite passion and motivation in themselves and others. Yet, they must be cautious not to let this force become overwhelming, as it could lead to recklessness and destructive tendencies.

Leviathan in Taurus: With Leviathan in Taurus, a colossal and unyielding presence emerges. These individuals display an unwavering determination and an unmovable stance akin to the unpenetrable scales of the mythical creature. However, they should be mindful not to become too rigid, and instead, find balance in embracing change and growth.

Leviathan in Gemini: Leviathan in Gemini manifests as a multi-faceted and versatile nature. These individuals wield an expansive and agile mind, capable of grasping numerous perspectives at once. However, they must guard against becoming scattered and embrace the power of focus to avoid being overwhelmed by their own mental prowess.

Leviathan in Cancer: In Cancer, Leviathan takes on an oceanic depth of emotions, intense and ever-changing like turbulent waters. These individuals experience emotional tides that can be both nurturing and overwhelming. Learning to navigate their feelings and find emotional stability is key to embracing the power of their empathetic and caring nature.

Leviathan in Leo: With Leviathan in Leo, an awe-inspiring and commanding presence emerges. Individuals with this placement possess a charisma that draws others towards them like moths to a flame. However, they must be mindful not to let their influence become overbearing, as true power lies in inspiring and uplifting others.

Leviathan in Virgo: Leviathan in Virgo displays a meticulous and analytical prowess, akin to the precision of a masterful beast. These individuals possess the power to discern and organize with incredible efficiency. They should be cautious not to become overly critical of themselves and others, channeling their influence towards constructive improvements.

Leviathan in Libra: In Libra, Leviathan embodies the balancing act of immense power and the desire for harmony. Individuals with this placement seek to create equilibrium and fairness in their interactions. Yet, they must learn to assert themselves when necessary and avoid letting their sense of justice become indecisiveness.

Leviathan in Scorpio: Leviathan in Scorpio unleashes an intense and transformative force, diving deep into the mysteries of life and emotions. These individuals possess the power to heal and destroy, making them formidable and mysterious. Embracing their ability to regenerate and rise from challenges is crucial for their growth.

Leviathan in Sagittarius: With Leviathan in Sagittarius, an expansive and adventurous spirit emerges. These individuals possess the power to inspire others to seek knowledge and explore beyond their comfort zones. They should be cautious not to become overly restless and instead, focus their influence on spreading wisdom and understanding.

Leviathan in Capricorn: Leviathan in Capricorn embodies an authoritative and ambitious nature, akin to a titan of industry and success. These individuals wield their influence to achieve great heights. Yet, they must learn to balance their pursuit of power with humility and a sense of responsibility towards others.

Leviathan in Aquarius: In Aquarius, Leviathan symbolizes a revolutionary and innovative force, challenging the status quo and embracing individuality. These individuals possess the power to incite change on a grand scale. However, they must remember the importance of compassionate connections and avoid becoming detached from their emotions.

Leviathan in Pisces: Leviathan in Pisces signifies a deep and mysterious power, much like the unfathomable depths of the ocean. These individuals possess profound intuition and empathy, making them compassionate and understanding. Learning to harness their influence without succumbing to escapism is essential for their personal and spiritual growth.

Leviathan in the Houses:

Leviathan in the 1st House: With Leviathan in the 1st House, the individual exudes a commanding and awe-inspiring presence. They may possess a powerful and fiery energy that can both attract and intimidate others. Their sheer force of will can be a driving force in their life, but they must be careful not to let their assertiveness turn into aggression.

Leviathan in the 2nd House: Leviathan in the 2nd House represents an insatiable appetite for material possessions and financial power. These individuals might have a relentless drive to accumulate wealth and resources. However, they should be mindful of becoming overly possessive or materialistic, as their quest for security can sometimes overshadow other aspects of life.

Leviathan in the 3rd House: In the 3rd House, Leviathan enhances communication and mental energy. These individuals have an intense curiosity and a relentless thirst for knowledge. They might excel in debate and argument, but they should be cautious not to overpower others with their ideas.

Leviathan in the 4th House: Leviathan in the 4th House signifies deep and tumultuous emotions rooted in the individual's family and home life. There might be a sense of inner turmoil or unresolved issues from the past that they must confront. Finding emotional stability and creating a sense of security within themselves is essential.

Leviathan in the 5th House: With Leviathan in the 5th House, individuals possess an overwhelming creative and self-expressive force. They may have a flair for drama and an undeniable presence in artistic endeavors. However, they should avoid letting their need for attention overshadow the joy and authenticity of their creative pursuits.

Leviathan in the 6th House: Leviathan in the 6th House represents a powerful drive for perfection and control in daily life and work. These individuals might have a tendency to become overly critical or demanding of themselves and others. Learning to embrace imperfections and manage their expectations is crucial for their well-being.

Leviathan in the 7th House: In the 7th House, Leviathan signifies intense and transformative relationships. These individuals might attract partners with strong personalities and significant influence in their lives. They should be cautious not to become overly dependent on others for emotional stability and find a healthy balance in their partnerships.

Leviathan in the 8th House: Leviathan in the 8th House denotes a profound and intense connection to the mysteries of life, death, and transformation. These individuals may have a keen interest in occult and esoteric subjects. Learning to navigate the depths of their emotions and subconscious can lead to powerful personal growth.

Leviathan in the 9th House: With Leviathan in the 9th House, individuals possess an adventurous and philosophical spirit. They may seek profound truths and embrace unconventional beliefs. However, they should be cautious not to become dogmatic in their views and remain open-minded to different perspectives.

Leviathan in the 10th House: Leviathan in the 10th House represents an overwhelming drive for success and influence in the public sphere. These individuals may seek recognition and authority in their career. They should be mindful not to let ambition overshadow their personal life and relationships.

Leviathan in the 11th House: In the 11th House, Leviathan signifies an influential and charismatic presence within social circles and group settings. These individuals might take on leadership roles and have a profound impact on collective endeavors. However, they should avoid becoming overly domineering in group dynamics.

Leviathan in the 12th House: Leviathan in the 12th House represents an intense and profound connection to the spiritual and unconscious realms. These individuals may experience vivid dreams and a deep inner life. They should be cautious of escapism and work towards integrating their spiritual insights into their daily reality.

#astrology #asteroid #zodiac signs #signs #houses #astro notes #astro observations

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pradnyesh1008 · 2 months

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Male RO's:

1. Crown Prince Grendor Verdantcliff

He is a figure of regal allure and rugged charm. His eyes, as deep and mysterious as the mountain caves, hold a wisdom that belies his youthful appearance. His hair, dark as the night sky, falls in waves to his broad shoulders. Standing tall with an air of authority, his physique is a testament to years of rigorous training and mountainous adventures.

His intellect is as sharp as the peaks that surround his kingdom. He possesses an uncanny ability to strategize and lead, qualities that have earned him the respect of his people. His voice, deep and resonant, echoes through the halls of the castle, commanding attention.

Despite his royal duties, Grendor is known for his adventurous spirit. He often disappears into the mountains for days, exploring hidden trails and seeking solace in the wilderness. His love for his kingdom is evident in his dedication to its people and its land.

Grendor's attire is a reflection of his kingdom - sturdy boots made from the hide of mountain beasts, a cloak as green as the mossy rocks, and a crown carved from a rare mineral only found in the depths of the mountain.

In all aspects, Crown Prince Grendor Verdantcliff is not just a leader but also a symbol of the mountain kingdom - steadfast, majestic, and full of mysteries waiting to be discovered.

2. Crown Prince Thalassar Aetherisles

He is a figure as complex as the sea that surrounds his realm. His eyes, a striking blue, mirror the tempestuous nature of the ocean, reflecting his volatile temperament. His sun-kissed skin and windswept hair are a testament to his island heritage, but they belie a demeanor that is anything but warm.

Thalassar is known for his short temper, which can flare up as suddenly and unpredictably as a tropical storm. His words can be cutting, his attitude dismissive. He carries himself with an air of superiority that some might find off-putting. His selfishness is evident in his actions, often prioritizing his own desires over the needs of others.

Yet beneath this challenging exterior lies a man shaped by the unique pressures of his position. His snobbish demeanor masks a fierce determination to protect his kingdom and its traditions. His selfishness could be seen as a form of self-preservation, necessary for someone born into a role filled with responsibilities and expectations.

In essence, Crown Prince Thalassar Aetherisles is much like the sea that defines his kingdom - beautiful yet unpredictable, calm one moment and stormy the next.

3. Crown Prince Kazuki Stormcrown

He is a paradox of a man, embodying both the storm’s fury and its tranquility. His eyes, dark and intense, hold an arrogance that can be as off-putting as a thunderstorm. He carries himself with an air of superiority, firmly believing in the supremacy of his people over others.

Yet, beneath this veneer of arrogance lies a man of honor. Kazuki is known for his politeness, treating everyone he encounters with respect, regardless of their status. His words, though often laced with pride, are always measured and courteous.

His kindness is as refreshing as a calm after a storm. He is generous to his people, always ready to lend a helping hand to those in need. His actions reflect his deep sense of responsibility towards his kingdom and its people.

Despite his belief in his people’s superiority, Kazuki is not blind to their flaws. He strives to lead by example, hoping to inspire them to rise above their shortcomings and reach their full potential.

In essence, Crown Prince Kazuki Stormcrown is a man of contrasts - arrogant yet kind, prideful yet honorable. Much like a storm, he can be both formidable and awe-inspiring.

4. Bastard Prince Aelius Coralhelm (Special RO)

He is a man marked by his past. His eyes, as cold and unforgiving as the sea during a storm, rarely reveal his emotions. His body, a canvas of scars, tells a story of countless battles and hardships. A long scar on his face serves as a constant reminder of a past he'd rather forget.

Aelius is known for his quiet demeanor. He speaks sparingly, choosing to let his actions speak louder than his words. His cold personality can be off-putting to some, but those who know him understand that it's a shield, a way to protect himself from the world that has often been cruel to him.

Despite his troubled past, Aelius is a formidable warrior. He spends most of his time training and fighting, honing his skills to perfection. His strength and resilience are admired by many, even if they find his methods and lifestyle questionable.

When he's not training or fighting, Aelius can often be found in brothels, seeking solace in the bottom of a bottle or the company of others. He's a heavy drinker, using alcohol as an escape from the demons of his past.

Because of his scars and excessive drinking, he looks much older than he is. The lines on his face tell tales of battles fought and storms weathered. Yet beneath the hardened exterior lies a spirit that refuses to be broken.

In essence, Bastard Prince Aelius Coralhelm is a man shaped by his experiences - hardened by life's trials, yet still standing strong against the tide.

#RO'S #ro's #Male RO's #TGT Ro's #TGT Male RO's

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tawakkull · 1 year

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ISLAM 101: SPIRITUALITY IN ISLAM: PART 108

The meaning of Tasawwuf

Part 3

Here the word Ihsan, which means “to perform something in the best manner” is explained as “the worship of Allah as if you are seeing Him, and if you do not see Him, He surely sees you.” This means that the consciousness of the presence of Allah, and the feeling of love and awe which accompany it, must permeate both our faith and practice (Iman and Islam) and it is in proportion to this consciousness that our excellence in religion can be judged. Clearly, this sense of presence is not to be confined only to worship, but to all our actions (one version of the above incident, in fact, has “to work for Allah as if you are seeing Him”). It is precisely this awareness of the nearness and presence of Allah the Sufis have as their ultimate goal in all their activities.

So far we have been speaking of the Muslims’ relationship with Allah in a general way. But Tasawwuf has a more specific content, that is to say, it aims at bringing the novice to the direct spiritual experience. The fountainhead of Islam (a fact which is often forgotten) is the direct spiritual experience of the Noble Prophet (Sallallahu Alaihe Wa Sallam) by means of which the message of God was conveyed to man. This spiritual experience had many forms, and was continuous throughout the period of the Prophet’s prophethood, starting from the initial vision of the Angel when the call to the divine mission was sounded, and persisting throughout the inspiration of the Divine Book, with other manifestations such as the Hadith-Qudsi (Divine Inspirations apart from the Qur'an itself) and revelations of the next world. It is illustrated particularly in the Me'raj (The Ascension), which culminates in the vision of the Supreme Reality. When the essence of prophethood is the spiritual experience, it would be strange indeed if some portion of this aspect of the prophetic life were not inherited by the Prophet’s companions and those who followed them. So we find a tradition of spiritual experience alongside that of the more obvious branches of religious teaching concerned with beliefs and practices. In the early stages, it was not considered proper to publish such experiences and considerable reticence was observed; it was thought sufficient only to hint at them. As time passed, reticence was lessened and gradually the science of Tasawwuf was outwardly formulated, although the very nature of these most inward matters makes some reticence inevitable at all times.

Abu Huraira, one of the intimate companions of the Prophet (Sallallahu Alaihe Wa Sallam) used to say: “I acquired two vessels from the Messenger of Allah (Sallallahu Alaihe Wa Sallam). One of them I published, but if I published the other my throat would be cut.” This is an interesting allusion to the danger of making a show of spiritual experiences are believed, then some people out of ignorance are inclined to raise the one who is spiritually gifted almost to divinity, if not to make him into God Himself. If they are disbelieved, the doubters become guilty of denying what is true and deprive themselves of certain special benefits which it is the Will of God that they should have. This is the reason why Sufis’ have always counseled great caution in the matter of describing some of their spiritual states in detail as these can only be appreciated in the tasting, and not in the description. In spite of the obvious references in the Qur'an, the Hadith, and the lives of the Companions, some have tried to deny this spiritual heritage of the Noble Prophet (Sallallahu Alaihe Wa Sallam) and claim that the early Muslims were only “ascetics” and not “mystics.” But to perceive spirituality where it exists is not given to everyone, even to perceive it at all; let it suffice to say that the extraordinary dedication to Allah and His Prophet (Sallallahu Alaihe Wa Sallam) and their commands by the leading companions and followers would be inexplicable without a profound spiritual experience.

If we consider the development of Tasawwuf as a science, that is the science of the soul, we find that it provides a close comparison with the development of other sciences based on the principles of the Divine Book and the life of Allah’s Messenger (Sallallahu Alaihe Wa Sallam). To take the science of Hadith as an example, we find that during the first century, which was the time of the Companions and the followers, things remained very much in the original form of personal teaching from those who sat in the company of the Great Ones, with little sign of elaboration and formulation. During the second century, we begin to find more or less comprehensive collections and criticisms of Hadiths and the formulation of rules of classification, which culminate, in the third century, in critical recensions based on now thoroughly elaborate and determined principles. In the case of Fiqh we find a similar process after the first century, of the direct and practical teaching of the companions and followers’ the second century produces elaborate compendia of legal decisions and formulation of principles of jurisprudence which again by the third century had been built up into a relatively independent science. Tasawwuf, too, was constructed into a spiritual science on the firm foundations of the spiritual heritage of the Prophet of God (Sallallahu Alaihe Wa Sallam). Here again, the elaboration begins in the second century in the recorded sayings and treatises and books of the early Sufis, and in the third-century Tasawwuf appears as a fully developed and formulated spiritual science. It is just as gratuitous to talk critically of later innovations in the matter of Tasawwuf as it is in the matter of Fiqh, Hadith, and Tafsir. There is a world of difference between elaborations and innovations, which people with muddled minds find difficult to distinguish.

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ideas-of-immortality · 1 month

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"Shinto is the older of Japan’s two main belief systems, not in the sense of an organized religion with the name Shinto, but in the various local traditions and rituals that existed among the people from ancient times. The other is Buddhism, which entered the country in the sixth century with a theology, priesthood, and an organization. Shinto is based on faith in kami, which descend to or are embodied in everything from people to animals to natural phenomena to certain locations. Of particular note are awe-inspiring trees, boulders, mountains, or waterfalls. People went to such places to commune with the kami that they felt existed there. These were often at the boundaries of villages where ritual acts were performed to keep the community from harm.

The practice developed of calling kami to specific places, such as the clearing at the foot of a mountain, where the branch of a tree or a stone was set upright in the ground as an object for the kami to “occupy” temporarily. The purpose of the ritual was to placate destructive kami, seek protection of clan members or pray for abundant crops. The way of calling the kami was to purify a space (called a yashiro), make offerings, and speak words of praise. With the coming of Buddhism and its tendency to worship indoors, more-permanent structures were built for the kami to descend into. But these were not “houses of worship” in the Buddhist or Christian sense, where people enter to pray. They were just for the kami: humans worshipped from outside. That is why even today the smallest shrines are no larger than a cupboard on a pedestal. It was only much later that buildings were constructed for people to enter, and these worship halls (haiden) were always separate from the housing for the kami. Both the single kami sanctuary and the combination of kami sanctuary (honden) and worship hall are known as jinja, or shrine."

—Shinto Shrines: A Guide to the Sacred Sites of Japan's Ancient Religion, by Joseph Cali & John Dougill

(Pictures and Video are Mine please don't use without asking me thanks!)

#Shinto #神道

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godivemex · 6 months

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Exploring the Mystical Depths: The Enchantment of Cenote Diving

Beneath the surface of the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico lies a world both magical and mysterious – the cenotes. These natural sinkholes, formed by the collapse of cave systems, have captivated divers from around the globe. cave diving mexico offers a unique and unparalleled experience, combining the thrill of underwater exploration with the awe-inspiring beauty of ancient geological formations. As adventurers don their scuba gear and plunge into the crystal-clear waters, they enter a realm that feels like something out of a dream.

The Allure of Cenote Diving:

Cenote diving offers a thrilling blend of adventure and natural wonder. The word "cenote" itself originates from the Mayan word "D'zonot," meaning sacred well, reflecting the spiritual significance these natural formations held for ancient civilizations. Today, these cenotes beckon divers with their mesmerizing beauty, revealing a world of stalactites and stalagmites, hidden chambers, and an ethereal play of light and shadow.

Diving into History:

Cenotes are not merely geological marvels; they are portals to the past. Many cenote systems were integral to ancient Mayan communities, serving as sources of fresh water in the region's limestone terrain. Archaeological finds in cenotes include relics and human remains, providing valuable insights into Mayan rituals and traditions. Diving in cenotes is akin to a journey through time, offering a chance to connect with history in an intimate and profound way.

An Ecosystem Unlike Any Other:

Cenotes are home to a unique ecosystem, adapted to the conditions of these subterranean caves. Divers encounter eyeless fish, freshwater shrimp, and delicate, ghostly white formations of bacteria-eating microorganisms. The cenote environment, with its clear, nutrient-poor water, challenges life to adapt and thrive, creating a biological tapestry that is as fascinating as it is delicate.

The Art of Cave Diving:

Cave diving in cenotes is a specialized skill, demanding training, experience, and respect for the environment. Cave divers navigate intricate passages, guided only by their knowledge of the cave system and their trusty dive lights. The silence of the cave, broken only by the sound of bubbles, enhances the sense of mystery, creating an atmosphere of quiet reverence.

Preserving the Cenote Ecosystem:

Preserving the delicate balance of cenote ecosystems is of utmost importance. Cenotes are vulnerable to pollution and overuse, threatening the unique flora and fauna that call these natural wonders home. Responsible diving practices, including proper waste disposal, non-intrusive exploration, and community education, are essential to ensuring the long-term sustainability of cenote diving.

The Spiritual Connection:

Cenote diving transcends the physical; it is a deeply spiritual experience for many. The Mayans believed cenotes were portals to the afterlife, where communication with the gods was possible. This spiritual connection is palpable as divers glide through the underwater cathedrals, surrounded by the echoes of ancient civilizations. The sense of awe and reverence experienced in the depths of cenotes is a testament to the profound impact these natural formations have on the human soul.

In Conclusion:

Cenote diving is more than an adventure; it is a transformative journey. It is an exploration of geological wonders, a communion with history, and a celebration of the resilience of life in unique ecosystems. As divers continue to explore the mystical depths of cenotes, it is essential to approach these fragile environments with respect and mindfulness, ensuring that the magic of cenote diving remains accessible to generations yet to come. In the heart of these hidden caves, a world of enchantment awaits, inviting all who dare to dive into its depths to discover the secrets it holds.

For More Info:-

Cavern Diving

Sidemount Diving Course

Cenote Diving Tulum

padi courses tulum

Source Url:-https://sites.google.com/view/godivemexicocom125/home

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pacificinn · 8 months

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Pacific Inn Hotels: Your Dream Wedding Resort in Rishikesh

When it comes to celebrating your special day amidst the serene beauty of Rishikesh, Pacific Inn Hotels stands out as the quintessential choice for couples seeking a dream wedding. Nestled in the heart of the spiritual city, Pacific Inn Hotels offers an enchanting blend of natural beauty and modern luxury, making it the perfect wedding resort in Rishikesh.

A Destination That Speaks Elegance

The Perfect Setting

Pacific Inn Hotels is situated against the backdrop of the majestic Himalayas, offering an awe-inspiring view that complements your wedding celebrations. The lush green surroundings, pristine air, and tranquil ambiance create a mesmerizing atmosphere, ideal for a romantic and intimate wedding.

Luxurious Accommodation

Our resort boasts a range of luxurious rooms and suites, meticulously designed to ensure the utmost comfort for you and your guests. Each room is adorned with modern amenities and offers breathtaking views, providing a truly lavish experience.

Impeccable Services

Expert Event Planning

At Pacific Inn Hotels, we understand that your wedding day should be flawless. Our team of experienced event planners takes care of every detail, from the decor to catering, leaving you free to enjoy your special day stress-free. We believe in turning your vision into reality and strive to exceed your expectations.

Culinary Delights

Our expert chefs curate a delectable menu that caters to diverse tastes and preferences. Whether you desire traditional Indian cuisine or international flavors, we ensure that your wedding feast is an unforgettable gastronomic experience for you and your guests.

Unparalleled Facilities

Spacious Banquet Halls

Our resort offers spacious banquet halls with state-of-the-art facilities, accommodating both intimate gatherings and grand celebrations. The elegant decor and lighting add a touch of sophistication to your wedding, making it a memorable affair.

Outdoor Wedding Venues

For couples who prefer an open-air wedding, Pacific Inn Hotels provides beautiful garden and poolside settings. The natural beauty of Rishikesh, combined with our impeccable service, creates a magical atmosphere for your special day.

Wellness and Relaxation

Spa and Wellness Center

Pamper yourself and your guests at our world-class spa and wellness center. After the hustle and bustle of wedding preparations, indulge in rejuvenating treatments to relax and revitalize your senses.

Adventures Galore

Adventure Activities

Rishikesh is renowned for its adventure sports, and Pacific Inn Hotels ensures that you make the most of your stay. Embark on thrilling activities like white-water rafting, trekking, and yoga retreats, adding an element of excitement to your wedding celebrations.

Customer Testimonials

But don't just take our word for it; here's what some of our delighted customers have to say about their wedding experience at Pacific Inn Hotels:

"Our wedding at Pacific Inn Hotels was nothing short of a fairytale. The stunning backdrop of the Himalayas and the impeccable service made it the best day of our lives."

"The attention to detail and personalized service we received from the Pacific Inn Hotels team was truly remarkable. They made our wedding day perfect."

"We couldn't have asked for a better venue for our destination wedding. Pacific Inn Hotels exceeded our expectations in every way."

Conclusion

If you're envisioning a wedding that combines natural beauty, luxury, and exceptional service, Pacific Inn Hotels is your go-to destination.

Our resort in Rishikesh offers an experience that goes beyond ordinary, ensuring that your wedding day is etched in your memory as a day of pure bliss.

Make your dream wedding a reality at Pacific Inn Hotels, the premier wedding resort in Rishikesh.

#pacific inn hotels

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bysumex · 9 months

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Nestled within the heart of South America, Peru is a land of remarkable landscapes, diverse cultures, and unparalleled natural beauty. Among its many treasures, the towering peaks of the Andes Mountains stand as true testament to nature’s artistry. In this blog post, we embark on a visual and narrative expedition, delving into the art of adventure photography that unveils the breathtaking allure of Peru’s majestic mountain ranges.

Chasing the Light: As the first rays of sunlight pierce the horizon, a symphony of colors paints the sky. Capturing the ethereal dance between light and shadow on the snow-cloaked peaks is a challenge that every adventure photographer relishes. The golden hour, when the sun’s gentle caress bathes the mountains in a warm glow, creates a surreal canvas for the lens to capture. Our journey begins as we venture out before dawn, braving the chilly air, to immortalize these fleeting moments.

The Trail Less Traveled: Beyond the well-trodden paths lies a realm of discovery. The trails that wind through Peru’s mountains reveal not only their grandeur but also the stories etched within their rugged terrain. We trek through narrow passages, cross roaring streams, and negotiate precipitous slopes, all in pursuit of that perfect shot. Each step is an ode to both the mountains and the resilience of those who call them home.

Whispers of History: The mountains are not merely silent sentinels; they are repositories of history and culture. From the ancient Incan civilization to the indigenous communities that thrive today, the peaks have witnessed tales of survival and flourishing against all odds. Our photographs become conduits, capturing the essence of these stories in every frame—the ruins, the traditions, and the spirit that unites past and present.

Nature’s Contrasts: The juxtaposition of elements is one of the most compelling aspects of mountain photography. The stark contrast between rugged rocks and delicate flora, the interplay of ice and fire in the form of glaciers and volcanic peaks, and the harmony between man and nature—these contrasts come to life as the lens captures them with a keen eye. Every shot narrates a tale of harmony and dichotomy that defines the mountains’ beauty.

Perspectives of Awe: Scaling great heights offers a unique perspective—literally and figuratively. The expansive panoramas from lofty summits offer a humbling reminder of our place in the world. Our camera lenses bring these vistas to life, inviting viewers to share in the awe-inspiring majesty that can only be experienced from the peaks. Each frame carries the weight of the ascent, igniting a sense of accomplishment and reverence.

Conclusion: In the realm where adventure and photography converge, the majestic heights of Peru’s mountains stand as an eternal muse. They inspire, challenge, and captivate, weaving stories that transcend the limitations of words. Through our lens, we’ve endeavored to unveil not just the physical beauty but the spirit of adventure that pulses through these peaks. From chasing light to traversing untamed trails, we’ve captured moments that remind us of the raw power and quiet serenity found in the heart of the mountains. Join us in this visual journey, and let the peaks of Peru speak to your soul through the language of adventure photography.

info: https://bysumex.com/capturing-the-majestic-heights-unveiling-perus-peaks-through-the-lens-of-adventure/

Jesus Gomez - bysumex

#travel #lightroom #bysumex #london #photo #peru #machu picchu

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sughoshperur · 9 months

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If You Are Looking For A Thrilling Escapade, Try Trekking In Coorg

Coorg is a place to go where you leave your daydreaming expectations behind and begin living your true aspirations; it is the ideal location for all adrenaline seekers. Can you imagine what trekking in Coorg is really like—the peaceful host of dreams?

It's time to fulfil your wanderlust if you're thinking about stunning vistas, exhilarating routes, and the rush of adrenaline that only comes from overcoming nature's obstacles. The Tadiandamol trek in Coorg is waiting to give you a once-in-a-lifetime experience that is the ideal fusion of breathtaking natural scenery and exhilarating adventures. Prepare to lace up your hiking boots, take in the refreshing mountain air, and set off on an adventure that will provide you with breathtaking scenery, exhilarating paths, and lifelong memories.

A Prelude to Paradise: The Allure Of Tadiandamol

Imagine stepping into the heart of Coorg, a land known for its lush greenery, mist-kissed mountains, and a sense of serenity that soothes the soul. Right in the midst of this natural masterpiece lies Tadiandamol Peak, a treasure trove waiting to be explored. From the moment you set foot in Coorg, Tadiandamol's siren call will guide your journey.

Trail Talk: The Climb Begins

Strap on those hiking boots and take that first step on the trail. The adventure begins with a gentle ascent, leading you through dense forests that seem straight out of a fantasy novel. The trees form a verdant canopy overhead, shielding you from the sun's rays and creating an atmosphere that's both enchanting and invigorating.

Wild Encounters

Keep your eyes peeled for Coorg's native residents—the curious monkeys and vibrant birds that call this place home. There's a thrill in spotting these creatures in their natural habitat, a reminder that you're truly stepping into the wild as you tackle the Tadiandamol trek distance.

Recharge Zone

Midway through your journey, a perfect oasis awaits. Take a well-deserved break, hydrate, and engage in the age-old tradition of sharing stories with your fellow trekkers. Laughter and camaraderie fill the air, reminding you that you're not alone on this adventure.

The Uphill Climb: Tackling Tadiandamol's Summit

As the trail starts to incline, your heart races in tandem with your determination. The path becomes steeper, but so does your resolve. With every step, you leave behind the mundane world and move closer to the peak. The air becomes crisper, and the anticipation of the panoramic view propels you forward.

Instagram-Worthy Stops

The viewpoints along the way are not just meant for catching your breath; they're also prime selfie spots. Capture your trekking spirit and the breathtaking surroundings to share with friends, family, and your future self, reminiscing about this adventure. Trust us, your social media will thank you later.

The Peak Triumph

Your heart swells with pride as you conquer the Tadiandamol peak. The world unfolds beneath your feet in a mesmerising tapestry of hills, forests, and valleys. The realisation that you've achieved this—that you've challenged yourself and emerged victorious—is exhilarating.

The Descent Dance: Homeward Bound

As you begin the descent, a sense of nostalgia washes over you. The journey is nearing its end, but the memories will last forever. The bonds you've formed with fellow trekkers and the awe-inspiring landscapes you've witnessed are like gems you've collected along the way.

Pause and Reflect

Take a moment to absorb the essence of the journey. The trek might be concluding, but the experiences and emotions it ignited will remain with you, forever enriching your life's tapestry. With each step, you'll be trading the ordinary for the extraordinary, the familiar for the unknown, and the mundane for the magical.

Sealing the Adventure: A Word of Wisdom

Discovering your inner power, forming bonds with other explorers who share your interests, and immersing yourself in nature's wonders are all part of the experience of climbing the Tadiandamol mountain. The beauty becomes your playground while trekking in Coorg, and the Tadiandamol trek is your ultimate ticket to this adventure-filled wonderland. Pack your spirit of adventure, unleash your inner explorer, and let the journey unfold. Tadiandamol awaits, promising thrills, discoveries, and memories that will be etched in your heart forever. Are you going to answer when the summit calls out to you?

#tadiandamol trek distance #trekking in coorg #tadiandamol #tadiandamol peak #tadiandamol trek

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drcpanda12 · 10 months

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The monsoon season, a fascinating natural phenomenon, captivates our senses with its dramatic shifts in weather patterns and abundant rainfall. From the parched lands eagerly awaiting the arrival of life-giving showers to the lush green landscapes that emerge in their wake, the monsoon holds a significant place in the hearts of people residing in affected regions. In this article, we delve into the intricacies of the monsoon, exploring its formation, impact, and cultural significance. Join us on a journey to unravel the mysteries of this awe-inspiring seasonal symphony, as we uncover the science behind the monsoon and shed light on its profound influence on the environment, agriculture, and human societies. What is Monsoon? Monsoon refers to a seasonal pattern of wind circulation that brings about a distinct shift in weather patterns and precipitation in certain regions of the world. It is characterized by a reversal in the direction of prevailing winds and is typically associated with heavy rainfall. The word "monsoon" originates from the Arabic word "mausim," which means "season." Although monsoon systems occur in several parts of the world, they are most commonly associated with South Asia, Southeast Asia, and parts of Africa and the Americas. Here are some key details about monsoons: Formation: Monsoons are caused by the differential heating and cooling of land and ocean. During summer, land surfaces heat up more quickly than bodies of water, resulting in low pressure over the land and high pressure over the ocean. The wind flows from high-pressure areas (oceans) to low-pressure areas (land), bringing moist air inland. Seasonal Reversal: The monsoon season is characterized by a reversal of wind direction compared to the rest of the year. In South Asia, for example, the monsoon season occurs from June to September. The prevailing wind direction shifts from dry, offshore winds to moist, onshore winds during this period. Rainfall Patterns: Monsoons are associated with significant rainfall. The onshore winds bring moisture-laden air from the ocean, which rises over the land due to topographical features like mountains. As the air rises, it cools and condenses, leading to the formation of clouds and rainfall. The intensity and duration of rainfall vary depending on the region and local factors. Impact on Agriculture: Monsoons play a crucial role in agriculture, especially in countries where rainfed farming is prevalent. The timely arrival and distribution of monsoon rainfall are vital for crop growth. Adequate rainfall during the monsoon season can lead to good agricultural yields, while drought or excessive rainfall can have adverse effects on crops. Floods and Droughts: Monsoon rainfall can be both a blessing and a curse. While it sustains agriculture and replenishes water resources, it can also lead to flooding when excessive rainfall overwhelms drainage systems. Conversely, inadequate rainfall during the monsoon season can result in drought conditions, affecting water availability and agricultural productivity. Variability: Monsoon patterns can exhibit considerable variability from year to year. Climate phenomena like El Niño and La Niña can influence monsoon dynamics, leading to deviations from typical patterns. Such variations can impact the overall monsoon season, including rainfall amounts and geographical distribution. Cultural Significance: Monsoons hold cultural significance in regions experiencing their influence. Festivals, rituals, and traditions are often tied to the arrival of monsoons, symbolizing renewal, fertility, and the end of the dry season. Understanding monsoons is crucial for regions that rely on agriculture, water resources, and overall socioeconomic well-being. Scientists and meteorologists study monsoon patterns to improve forecasting and better prepare for the associated impacts, such as floods, droughts, and water management. The Formation of Monsoon

The formation of the monsoon is a complex interplay of atmospheric and oceanic factors that give rise to this extraordinary seasonal phenomenon. Understanding the mechanisms behind its formation is crucial for predicting and comprehending its behavior. In this section, we delve into the intricacies of monsoon formation. The primary driving force behind the monsoon is the differential heating and cooling of land and ocean surfaces. During the summer months, land areas heat up more quickly than the adjacent oceans. As a result, a low-pressure system develops over the land, while a high-pressure system persists over the ocean. This pressure gradient sets the stage for the monsoon winds to emerge. The monsoon winds can be broadly categorized into two types: the summer monsoon and the winter monsoon. In this article, we primarily focus on the summer monsoon, as it is the most prominent and well-known. During the summer monsoon, the prevailing winds over the Indian subcontinent and Southeast Asia undergo a remarkable reversal in direction. Prior to the monsoon, these regions are influenced by dry, offshore winds. However, as the land heats up and the low-pressure system intensifies, moist air from the nearby oceans is drawn inland. This influx of moist air gives rise to the onshore winds, laden with humidity and the promise of rainfall. The complex topography of the affected regions plays a crucial role in shaping the monsoon's behavior. Mountain ranges act as barriers, forcing the moist air to ascend and cool as it encounters higher altitudes. As the air rises, it condenses, forming clouds and leading to precipitation. This orographic effect contributes to the significant rainfall experienced in hilly and mountainous areas during the monsoon season. Oceanic conditions also influence the monsoon. The temperature of the nearby oceans, such as the Indian Ocean, plays a vital role in determining the moisture content of the onshore winds. Warmer sea surface temperatures result in increased evaporation, leading to higher moisture content in the air. This, in turn, enhances the potential for heavy rainfall during the monsoon season. Furthermore, large-scale climate phenomena such as El Niño and La Niña can exert considerable influence on monsoon patterns. El Niño, characterized by warmer-than-normal sea surface temperatures in the Pacific Ocean, can disrupt monsoon circulation and result in reduced rainfall. Conversely, La Niña, characterized by cooler-than-normal sea surface temperatures, can enhance the monsoon and lead to above-average rainfall. Understanding the formation of the monsoon is a multidisciplinary endeavor that involves meteorologists, climatologists, and oceanographers. Through advanced modeling techniques and extensive data analysis, scientists strive to improve their understanding of monsoon dynamics, ultimately leading to more accurate predictions and better preparedness for the associated impacts, such as floods, droughts, and agricultural productivity. In the next sections, we will explore the impacts of the monsoon on various aspects of life, including agriculture, water resources, and cultural practices. Seasonal Reversal One of the defining characteristics of the monsoon is the seasonal reversal of wind patterns. This reversal occurs when prevailing winds change direction, marking the transition between different seasons. The shift from dry to wet conditions or vice versa is a remarkable phenomenon that shapes the climate and influences various aspects of life in monsoon-affected regions. During the monsoon season, a significant reversal takes place in the direction of the prevailing winds. In regions such as South Asia, Southeast Asia, and parts of Africa, the prevailing winds blow from land to sea for most of the year. These dry, offshore winds typically dominate the weather patterns during the non-monsoon period. However, as the summer season progresses, the landmass in these regions heats up, creating a low-pressure system.

The temperature gradient between the land and the adjacent oceans intensifies, leading to the formation of a high-pressure system over the oceans. This pressure difference sets the stage for the seasonal reversal. The reversal begins when moist air from the oceans is drawn inland by the low-pressure system over the land. These onshore winds carry abundant moisture, creating a shift from dry to wet conditions. The moisture-laden winds bring about a dramatic change in weather patterns, resulting in heavy rainfall, increased humidity, and a drop in temperatures. The timing and duration of the monsoon reversal vary across different regions. In South Asia, for example, the onset of the summer monsoon typically occurs around June, while the withdrawal or retreat of the monsoon occurs around September. These transitions are critical for agricultural activities, as they mark the arrival of favorable conditions for planting and harvesting. The seasonal reversal of winds also has a significant impact on marine ecosystems. Upwelling, the process of nutrient-rich deep water rising to the surface, occurs during the monsoon season in certain regions. This upwelling supports the growth of phytoplankton and boosts the productivity of marine life, creating thriving fishing grounds. While the monsoon reversal brings much-needed rainfall and relief from the scorching heat, it can also lead to extreme weather events. Intense downpours, thunderstorms, and even cyclones are not uncommon during the monsoon season. Flooding, landslides, and waterlogging can occur, posing challenges to infrastructure, agriculture, and public safety. The seasonal reversal of winds is not limited to the summer monsoon. In some regions, a similar reversal occurs during the winter season, known as the winter monsoon. During this period, the prevailing winds shift from the oceans to the land, bringing cooler and drier conditions. The seasonal reversal of winds is a phenomenon that people in monsoon-affected regions eagerly await each year. It has a profound impact on the environment, agriculture, water resources, and the daily lives of millions of people. Understanding and predicting these seasonal changes are vital for effective planning, resource management, and disaster preparedness in monsoon-prone areas. Rainfall Patterns Rainfall patterns during the monsoon season exhibit distinct characteristics that distinguish them from other seasons. The arrival of the monsoon brings about a significant increase in rainfall, often resulting in heavy downpours and prolonged periods of precipitation. Understanding the rainfall patterns is crucial for agriculture, water resource management, and overall planning in monsoon-affected regions. Here are some key aspects of rainfall patterns during the monsoon season: Intensity: Monsoon rainfall is known for its intensity. When the monsoon winds bring moisture-laden air from the oceans, the warm and humid air rises over the landmass. As the air ascends, it cools, leading to condensation and the formation of clouds. The condensed water droplets then fall as rain. The combination of abundant moisture and the orographic effect of mountains can result in heavy and concentrated rainfall within a short period. Intense downpours are common during the monsoon, often causing localized flooding. Duration: The monsoon season typically spans several months, with the duration varying depending on the region. In South Asia, for instance, the monsoon season lasts from June to September. During this period, the rainfall is sustained and occurs intermittently. There are phases of intense rainfall followed by lulls, creating a cyclical pattern. The duration and timing of the monsoon can have significant implications for agriculture, as it determines the planting, growth, and harvesting periods. Spatial Distribution: The distribution of rainfall during the monsoon season is not uniform across the affected regions. Certain areas receive higher amounts of rainfall compared to others, leading to spatial variations.

Factors such as topography, proximity to the coast, and local wind patterns contribute to these variations. Mountainous regions often experience more rainfall due to the orographic lifting of moist air. Coastal areas can also receive substantial rainfall due to the influence of moisture-laden onshore winds. Monsoon Trough: The monsoon trough, also known as the Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ), is a band of low pressure that forms during the monsoon season. It acts as a focal point for the convergence of moist air and plays a crucial role in enhancing rainfall. The position of the monsoon trough fluctuates, affecting the distribution of rainfall across different regions. Its movement can result in the shifting of rainfall patterns and can impact agricultural activities and water availability. Breaks in Monsoon: Within the monsoon season, there are often periods known as "breaks" or "breaks in the monsoon." These are temporary interruptions in the rainfall activity, characterized by a reduction or cessation of precipitation for several days or weeks. These breaks can occur due to various factors, including the movement of weather systems or changes in atmospheric circulation. Breaks in the monsoon can have implications for agriculture, as they can affect crop growth and water availability. Understanding the spatial and temporal variations in monsoon rainfall is essential for planning and managing various sectors. It allows for the development of strategies to mitigate the risks of flooding, droughts, and water scarcity. Weather monitoring systems, rainfall prediction models, and historical data analysis contribute to improving our understanding of monsoon rainfall patterns and aid in preparedness and adaptation to its impacts. Impact on Agriculture The monsoon season has a profound impact on agriculture in monsoon-affected regions. The timely arrival and distribution of monsoon rainfall are crucial for crop growth, water availability, and overall agricultural productivity. The monsoon's influence on agriculture can be both beneficial and challenging, with its impacts varying depending on the amount, distribution, and timing of rainfall. Here are some key aspects of the monsoon's impact on agriculture: Water Supply: Adequate rainfall during the monsoon season replenishes water reservoirs, rivers, and groundwater sources. This availability of water is essential for irrigation, especially in rainfed agricultural areas where farmers rely on monsoon rainfall to nourish their crops. The monsoon's contribution to water supply helps sustain agricultural activities throughout the year. Crop Planting and Growth: The onset of the monsoon season signals the beginning of the crop planting period. Farmers eagerly await the arrival of monsoon rains to prepare their fields and sow seeds. Sufficient and timely rainfall is vital for germination, root development, and initial growth of crops. If the monsoon rains are delayed or insufficient, it can lead to delays in planting, affecting crop yields. Crop Yields: The monsoon's impact on crop yields depends on the amount and distribution of rainfall. Optimal rainfall during the growing season supports healthy crop growth, leading to higher yields. Insufficient or erratic rainfall, on the other hand, can adversely affect crop development, leading to lower yields or even crop failures. Drought conditions during the monsoon season can be particularly devastating for rainfed agriculture. Pest and Disease Management: The monsoon season can also influence the incidence and spread of pests and diseases in agricultural crops. Excessive moisture and humidity during the monsoon provide favorable conditions for the proliferation of pests, fungi, and bacteria. Farmers need to implement effective pest and disease management strategies to minimize crop losses during this period. Crop Diversity and Planning: The monsoon's arrival and behavior influence the choice of crops and their planting schedules.

Farmers select crop varieties that are well-suited to the monsoon climate, taking into account factors such as water requirements, tolerance to moisture stress, and disease resistance. Additionally, farmers often plan their cropping calendars based on the anticipated monsoon onset, duration, and withdrawal. Soil Erosion and Conservation: Intense monsoon rainfall can lead to soil erosion, particularly in hilly and sloping areas. The force of heavy raindrops and runoff can wash away fertile topsoil, affecting soil quality and nutrient content. Soil conservation measures such as contour plowing, terracing, and the use of cover crops play a vital role in mitigating erosion and preserving soil fertility during the monsoon season. Post-Harvest Storage: The monsoon season poses challenges for post-harvest storage of crops. Excessive humidity and moisture levels can contribute to spoilage, mold growth, and insect infestations. Proper storage facilities, drying techniques, and preservation methods are crucial to safeguarding harvested crops during this period. Efficient water management, irrigation infrastructure, access to weather information, and technological advancements in agriculture can help mitigate the risks and challenges associated with the monsoon season. Research and development efforts are focused on developing drought-resistant crop varieties, improving water-use efficiency, and promoting sustainable farming practices that enhance resilience to the monsoon's variability. Overall, the monsoon's impact on agriculture highlights the critical role that rainfall plays in sustaining food production and livelihoods in monsoon-affected regions. Effective planning, adaptation strategies, and investments in agricultural resilience are essential for minimizing risks and maximizing the benefits of the monsoon season for agricultural communities. Cultural Significance The monsoon season holds immense cultural significance in many regions around the world. It has woven itself into the fabric of local traditions, festivities, and daily life, becoming a source of inspiration, celebration, and spiritual reverence. Here are some aspects of the monsoon's cultural significance: Agricultural Festivals: In agricultural societies dependent on the monsoon for crop cultivation, the onset of the monsoon season is celebrated with vibrant festivals and rituals. These festivities mark the beginning of the planting season and express gratitude for the arrival of rainfall. Farmers seek blessings from deities and perform ceremonies to invoke favorable weather and bountiful harvests. Such festivals often involve community gatherings, music, dance, and the sharing of traditional meals. Rain Dances: Rain dances are a cultural expression associated with the monsoon season. These lively and rhythmic dances are performed as a means of calling for rain, symbolizing the connection between humans and nature. Rain dances often involve intricate movements, vibrant costumes, and traditional music, creating an atmosphere of joy and hope for abundant rainfall. Art and Literature: The monsoon season has inspired artists, poets, and writers throughout history. Its dramatic weather patterns, lush landscapes, and the emotions it evokes are often portrayed in paintings, sculptures, poetry, songs, and literature. The monsoon serves as a muse for creative expressions, capturing its beauty, power, and transformative impact on the environment and human emotions. Spiritual and Religious Significance: The monsoon season holds spiritual and religious significance in various cultures. It is believed to be a time of cleansing, renewal, and spiritual growth. In some traditions, the monsoon is associated with deities and mythical stories related to water, rain, and fertility. Ceremonies and rituals are performed to seek divine blessings for a prosperous monsoon season, protection from floods or droughts, and overall well-being. Culinary Delights:

The monsoon season influences culinary traditions, as the abundance of rainfall and fresh produce inspire a variety of seasonal dishes. The monsoon brings an array of flavors, including fruits, vegetables, and herbs, which are incorporated into traditional recipes. These delicacies often reflect regional diversity and are eagerly awaited and relished during the monsoon season. Water Conservation Practices: The monsoon season's significance goes beyond celebrations and festivals; it also promotes cultural practices centered around water conservation. In regions where water scarcity is a concern during other seasons, the monsoon's arrival is viewed as an opportunity to replenish water sources. Traditional methods of rainwater harvesting, reservoir management, and community-based water-sharing systems are often part of cultural practices passed down through generations. Symbolism and Metaphors: The monsoon season serves as a rich source of symbolism and metaphors in cultural expressions. It is often associated with themes of transformation, renewal, emotional journeys, and the cycles of life. The monsoon's unpredictable nature and its ability to bring both blessings and challenges serve as metaphors for the highs and lows of human existence. The cultural significance of the monsoon season reflects the deep connection between nature and human societies. It is a time of unity, reflection, celebration, and resilience, highlighting the profound influence of the monsoon on people's lives, traditions, and sense of identity.

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knewtoday · 10 months

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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Hiii Hii!!! May I request for Draco🥺

Fluff prompt 3: "It's you. It's always been you."

Steams scenes 6: "Touch Me"

And miscellaneous 12: only one bed AU

Thank youuu❣️

Travelling Companions // Draco Malfoy

a/n: NSFW - minors DNI. FEMALE READER. 2k words (not really a blurb anymore), and the fic that has inspired my latest series so pieces of this will be taken and used there that’s why this may feel very rushed. The series will be slower.

Fluff 3: “It’s you. It’s always been you.”

Steamy Scenes 6: “Touch me.”

Misc 12: only one bed.

Upon the end of the Second Wizarding War and the disgrace of his family, Draco Malfoy left the country. There was very little keeping him tied to England; a family torn apart by their beliefs, a cold house that was not a home, an inheritance built off the very hatred pedalled by his father.

No, Draco Malfoy did not want to stay in the country.

Similarly, you refused to stay at home too. Having seen the lifeless bodies of your friends, the nightmares had become too much for you to remain at home. Instead, you packed up your things, kissed your parents on the cheeks, promising to send them a postcard from every destination.

It’s in Italy where the two of you cross paths.

The night was unusually warm; sweat rolling down your back as you walked through the thick crowds on the Ponte Vecchio. You had no distinct aim of your night; happy to wander until the early hours of the morning, falling into your bed with very little to think about other than your plans for the following day.

It’s as your dodging multiple bodies that you spy a shock of blonde hair that you swear was familiar.

“Draco?” You call, watching the tall figure pause, “Draco Malfoy?”

The blonde turns at the sound of your voice.

“Of all the people to meet in Florence,” You smile, “What are you doing here?”

“An extended gap year as the muggles would call it,” He answers, looking mildly uncomfortable at being recognised abroad.

“Well,” You nod, “It was nice to see you, enjoy the rest of your travels.”

Draco nods, a small, polite smile on his face. He doesn’t say anything to which you turn away, continuing your journey across the bridge in the hopes of finding something to eat and soon.

“(Y/N)!” Draco calls after a moment.

You turn back to the man, finding him only a few steps behind you. His eyes are bright, cheeks flushed as he asks, “What are your plans for tonight?”

“I was going to get some food and then walk about aimlessly. Why?”

“Can I join you?” He asks; the words leaving his mouth in such a rush that Draco looks shocked at the speed. “What I mean to say is: would you like some company? It would be nice to catch up with a friendly face.”

“Of course,” You laugh, “You’re more than welcome to join me.”

Draco falls into step beside you as you wander the length of the bridge, both eagerly looking for a restaurant to catch up in.

Conversation flows naturally with the blonde, as does the laughter and the wine. You reminisce over the lighter days of your education, as well as sharing countless stories of your travels, finding yourself enjoying Draco’s company far more than you expected.

“Where are you going to next?” Draco asks, grey eyes inquisitive as he sips at his red wine.

“Greece,” You answers, “I’m island hopping for a little while. I’ve heard stories of an island that feels like the end of the world, and I want to check it out. Where are you off to next?”

“Greece, if you can believe it,” He answers, topping up your wine glasses with the dregs of the bottle.

“I’ve a proposition for you, Malfoy,” You announce over your refreshed glass of red wine. “I’ve grown tired of travelling alone, I miss conversation and company. We’re both travelling to Greece next – why don’t you join me?”

Draco ponders your proposition through his next bite of food, weighing up the pros and cons through a mouthful of Tagliatelle Funghi Porcini e Tartufo. “Alright,” He eventually says, wiping his mouth on a cloth napkin, “I’ll join you. I’ve grown lonely on my travels too.”

Your shoulders sag as Draco’s words wash over you. It had become lonely travelling alone, that much was true, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were meant to run into Draco tonight. That there was something bigger at play.

-------

The Ionian Islands were beautiful; travelling with Draco at your side made it easier for you to rest at night, no longer plagued by nightmares as often, but it gave you someone to talk to when the night had been bad.

Kefalonia held its own charm; its quiet punctuated only by the clinking of wine glasses on the wine tours shared with Draco.

Your time on the Ionian Islands had you seeing Draco in a different light; the sun had bronzed his skin and you couldn’t help but stare when his shirt came off at the beach. Something was changing between the two of you; the both of you lingering on a night, not wanting to be the one to say good night, not wanting to be the one to draw it all to a close.

You could only hope that things would change soon.

---------

“Are we staying in the port?” Draco asks, eyeing you carefully as you hold your hand out for a taxi. Wearing black slacks and a white t-shirt, Draco was unintentionally drawing the attention of most women and men in the port of Skiathos

“Nope,” You answer as the taxi pulls up beside you both, “We’re staying in Troulos.”

The hotel was a small, family run establishment that you had read about in one of the many travel guides bought before you left England. Draco leaves you to check in, letting you admire the scenery as you wait patiently for him to return.

The owner is the one to lead you both through the hotel, smiling politely at you as he leaves you outside your room, explaining the opening times for the bar and the pool.

“There’s only one bed, Draco,” You state obviously as you enter the room, pointing to the bed in offence.

“I noticed,” He deadpans, fixing you with an unimpressed look. “Look, I’m not sleeping on the tiled floor. So, we either share, or you sleep on the floor.”

“Ever the gentleman,” You drawl, arching a single eyebrow. Draco smirks as he bows; the motion executed perfectly, highlighting his very expensive etiquette lessons as a small boy. “Fine,” You huff, dropping your bag onto the bed, “We share, but I’m warning you now, Malfoy, I hog the blankets.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” The blonde snorts, wandering to the bathroom where you hear the shower begin to flow.

Settling down on the bed, you press a hand to your forehead, already sticky with sweat. Your stomach turned with butterflies as you think of the night to come, sharing a bed with Draco. The feelings for the man had surprised you; you hadn’t expected to feel anything for him, simply happy to have company on the last leg of your travels, but here you were – craving his touch and his attention as if it were your lifeline.

The shower turns off, and you jump up, grabbing your toiletries in an effort to give you something to do to draw your mind from the sight of Draco in a towel.

“I’m going to shower and get ready, and then we’ll go get some food, okay?” You call out, pushing past the blonde as he leaves the bathroom in nothing, but a small, fluffy, white towel wrapped around his waist.

“I’ll be waiting!” Draco calls out, laughter rich in his voice.

As you sink against the bathroom door, it’s then that you realise, you’re fucked.

-------

It became a quick tradition on your travels with Draco that you would alternate who would pick the restaurant that evening. As you chose where to eat the previous night, it was now Draco’s turn.

The restaurant he chooses is quaint, set off just from the main road running through that part of the island. It’s fairly busy, many families laughing and drinking through the evening.

The waitress hands you the menus, her eyes lingering on Draco a little bit too long for you to feel comfortable. You smile politely as you give her your drink orders, immediately feeling awful for the curtness of your tone when you had no claim to the man sat next to you.

Food is ordered and conversation continues to flow, but you find yourself caught up in the way that Draco makes you feel. Every glance, every smile, every unintentional touch – it leaves you close to breathless with butterflies raging in your gut and your heart close to pounding out of your chest. You had never felt like this, and your poor heart could only hope that Draco felt the same.

When the food arrives, it doesn’t take long for you to gush over the meal. “You have to try this!” You cry out as you take your first bite of your meal, gathering another forkful for Draco. “It’s wonderful!”

Holding your fork out, you expect Draco to take the utensil from you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in, his lips wrapping around the fork in a manner that leaves you hungry for something that certainly wasn’t food.

“What do you think?” You ask huskily, throat dry.

Draco chews, pondering over the food. A smirk gathers on his lips as he swallows, “Delectable.”

The both of you fall silent as your meals are finished; the only sound between you being the scraping of cutlery on plates, but you cannot help but wonder whether Draco can hear the pounding of your heart every time he smiles at you, or whether he can sense the change in your feelings as you yearn for him silently.

“You were jealous – of the waitress – weren’t you?” Draco’s voice sounds, breaking your reverie. Blinking, you find him watching you with a curious look on his face.

“Yes,” You confess in a single breath, shifting your gaze from Draco’s, fiddling with the napkin in front of you.

“There was no need.”

“Oh?”

“It’s you,” He breathes, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, “It’s always been you.”

“Take me back to the room, Draco,” You whisper, leaning into his touch.

Draco wastes no time paying the bill, whisking you from the restaurant and down the road to your hotel.

The door slams against the wall as you both fall into the room; hands pulling at clothing, lips attached save for the breathy laughter filling the room. He tastes of the anise instilled into the Ouzo shared at dinner; his lips fit seamlessly against yours as he backs you through to the bedroom, his hands wandering – memorising every dip and curve of your body.

Draco lays you out on the bed gently as if worried of hurting you in some form or another.

“What do you want?” Draco asks, grey eyes bright in the muted light of the room.

“You,” You state, sitting up on the bed, pressing your hands to the man’s bare chest, scraping your fingernails down his pale skin.

Draco shivers at your touch, barely repressing the low groan growing in the back of his throat. “Where do you want me?” He hums, not giving you the time to answer the question as he begins his onslaught of addictive kisses.

“Here?” He purrs, kissing your jaw. “Or here?” He asks, dropping a feather light kiss to your neck, pushing you back onto the bed. “What about here?” Draco teases, pressing blazing kiss after blazing kiss down the centre of your cleavage to the top of your underwear leaving you a wanton mess as you writhe underneath him.

“Darling,” He whispers, “What do you want from me?”

“Touch me,” You all but beg, reaching for the blonde’s hand, fitting it where you need him most.

It’s then that all self-control Draco had snaps; his hand slips into your underwear, fingers slipping through your slick folds. The gasp that leaves your mouth is swallowed by Draco’s lips, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip as he wrings every single ounce of pleasure from your body.

No nightmares are had that night; finding peace in each other as you sleep wrapped up together in the one bed.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco smut #draco malfoy fanfiction #moments with millie #draco malfoy blurb #blurb night #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

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The Love We Have

Part 2/5 - AO3 - Previous - next

Summary: Kaer Morhen has an old tradition in order to keep the witchers safe after the siege. Only witchers and their partners are allowed in the keep but Geralt is tired of parting with Jaskier over the winter so decides to invite him to Kaer Morhen… only he forgets to mention one tiny little detail.

Ship: Geraskier

Rating: T

Warnings: None?? Maybe… I’ll add them later if I remember any.

_______

They’d reached Kaer Morhen by dinner. The keep was… not as impressive as Jaskier had imagined. Deep down he’d known that the home of the wolf witchers had been severely damaged long before Jaskier had taken his first breath, but in his head he’d always imagined a beautiful awe inspiring castle that rose from the mountains and dominated the horizon.

It was barely more than a ruin.

A very pretty ruin, one that Jaskier would normally find absolutely fascinating from an academic perspective, but… he was supposed to be living here during the harsh cold winter.

Perhaps this really had been a bad idea.

He swallowed, debating hiding behind Geralt as they entered the keep, but there was a reason that he’d become a bard instead of inheriting his noble title. If there was one thing Jaskier could do, it was perform. He took a deep breath and plastered a blinding smile onto his face. It was time to act. He laced his fingers with Geralt’s and flashed his witcher a wink before pulling him through the big heavy wooden gates. Another silver-haired witcher grunted as Jaskier flew past him.

“We made it!” he cried with false cheer, spinning both him and Geralt round in a circle. The witcher thankfully loosened his grip on Roach’s reins and she trotted off towards the stable. “I can’t believe we finally made it, oh darling it’s beautiful.”

Geralt’s flushed, a pretty pink that was stark against his pale skin. “Jask,” he groaned but let himself be pulled around, much to Jaskier’s delight.

The other witcher cleared his throat and Jaskier ground to halt, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s waist and pressing his face into his chest with a giggle. “My deepest apologies!” he exclaimed, pulling away from Geralt but keeping an iron tight grip on Geralt’s hand as he bowed deeply. “I am Jaskier, Geralt’s partner.”

He gave the witcher a charming smile and winked as he extended his hand. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled, as the other witcher stoically ignored his greeting. “Stop flirting.”

Jaskier pouted, but sighed and curled back up into Geralt’s side, taking advantage of the heat. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Geralt had been blessed by fire nymphs. It would explain the smokey musk that followed Geralt everywhere, even when they hadn’t been near a campfire in days.

“Geralt, what is this?” the other witcher grumbled, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his face clear in its stony disapproval.

“Jaskier, my bard, partner,” Geralt muttered. “He’s staying with us this winter. Jaskier, this is Vesemir.”

“Hi,” Jaskier said with an awkward wave.

“Take him to your room and then come down to the library.”

Vesemir walked away before either of them could argue. Jaskier let out a low whistle. “Well, shit. That didn’t go so well.”

“He’s just protective,” Geralt insisted, squeezing Jaskier’s hand.

Jaskier looked down at their linked fingers, surprised that they were still together. As far as Jaskier could tell, Vesemir was the only witcher at the keep, and thus the only one they had to convince for now. There was no need for Geralt to keep hold of his hand… and yet, here they were.

“I just want them to like me,” Jaskier sighed.

“They will.”

Jaskier scoffed. “Darling,” the pet name rolling off his tongue without thought, “It took you years to warm up to me.”

“That’s not true,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, it is!” he said as he poked Geralt in the chest.

Geralt hummed and stalked away, pulling Jaskier with him as if he’d completely forgotten they were even holding hands. Jaskier yelped and tripped over his own feet, gripping onto Geralt’s arm to steady himself. It was going to be an interesting winter indeed.

_____________

Geralt’s room was very lovely. He had a large double bed pressed up to the one wall. It was covered in furs of varying types, mostly wolf fur by the feel of it. There was also a large heavy rug in front of the fireplace that was blazing. As a result, the room was actually warm, almost too warm after the numbing cold of the mountain. There was a warm scent of lavender in the room that Jaskier hadn’t expected. It was a scent he enjoyed himself and he frequently chose perfumes and oils that were lavender based if the coin allowed. He found a small incense on the windowsill, the source of the smell. He inhaled deeply and smiled. Whilst Geralt was away he could imagine that the witcher had chosen this particular scent to keep Jaskier with him over their months, sometimes even years, apart.

It was nonsense, nothing but a dream, but it warmed Jaskier’s heart nonetheless. He flopped down onto the bed, exhausted in both mind and body. It was larger than the ones they’d had to share at the inns on the road. He was strangely grateful for that. It meant he’d be able to put at least some distance between him and Geralt. He would need that if he were to survive the winter. He rolled onto his front and pulled his lute case from off the floor. Once his precious instrument was safely unpacked and in his hands, he rolled back, staring up at the ceiling as he plucked tunelessly at the strings.

The cold had ruined the tuning just like he’d suspected it would. It was hard enough to keep the damned instrument in tune without the sudden changes in temperature, but at least it gave him something to focus on. He closed his eyes and fiddled with the pegs one by one, plucking at the strings with possibly more force than necessary, until his darling instrument was once again the envy of all the Continent.

He sighed dramatically and began to pull a heart wrenching melody from his baby. It had no words yet, but the message was clear to even an untrained ear. It was melancholic, full of longing, heartache… and lust.

He hadn’t even noticed he was crying until a sob tore from his throat. He cradled his lute to his chest and let the tears flood down his cheeks. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he was crying. Perhaps the whole journey up the mountain had just been a bit much for him. Physically he was completely exhausted. He wasn’t sure his toes would ever recover from the cold and even though they’d taken it slowly, the mountain path was called The Killer for a reason. It would have been hard enough even without the emotional toil that had accompanied it.

The hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He gasped and shuffled until his back hit the headboard. It took him a moment to notice the soft yellow eyes looking down at him.

“Ah, Geralt,” he greeted with as much cheer in his voice as he could muster.

“You’re crying,” Geralt whispered, behaving uncharacteristically soft for the witcher. Jaskier bit back a groan of confusion at the concern lying in those familiar amber eyes. His heart was too fragile right now for this emotional whiplash and Geralt’s odd behaviour was opposite of what he needed at the moment.

“Just tired,” he muttered, wiping the tears from his face.

Geralt carefully took the lute from his hands and returned it to its case. Jaskier felt an urge to hug Geralt and never let go. No one had even treated Jaskier or his belongings with such tenderness. Gods, he was a mess. He was almost crying again because Geralt had touched his lute and didn’t break it.

“You’ll feel better after some food and then we can come back upstairs. Vesemir won’t be expecting our company this evening. We won’t have to pretend.”

Jaskier chewed his bottom lip to stop himself from blurting out that it wouldn’t be a pretence. That would be far too dramatic even for his tastes. Instead he nodded and let Geralt pull him from the bed. Of course, being the disaster that he was, he tripped and practically fell into the witcher’s arms. Geralt caught him but Jaskier hadn’t expected to be so close to the witcher. It felt like all the air had been sucked from the room as he glanced up at Geralt. Well… more across. Geralt really wasn’t that much taller than him despite his fearsome appearance.

They were close.

Too close.

Jaskier could feel the tickle of Geralt’s breath on his lips, that smokey musk mixed with leather and oil washing over him. He licked his lips, speechless for possibly only the fifth time in his entire life. For a moment he thought he saw Geralt’s eyes flicker down to his lips, but that couldn’t be right. That would just be an illusion, wishful thinking. He cleared his throat and patted Geralt on the shoulder.

“Alrighty! Thank you, Geralt,” he stammered and pushed away.

Gods, when had things become so difficult. They’d been friends for years and Jaskier had never been afraid of physical contact with Geralt before. Why couldn’t he just relax, be himself? He was going to ruin everything. Vesemir would never believe their performance if he kept acting like a scared rat, and Geralt would likely start becoming suspicious if he didn’t get a grip soon.

“I’m sorry.”

Jaskier’s eyes flashed up in surprise. Of all the reactions he’d expected from Geralt, an apology hadn’t been on the list. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re scared of me.”

Jaskier gaped, opening his mouth and closing it several times before letting out a long sigh. “No, I’m not.”

Geralt snorted. “I can smell it, Jaskier. There’s no point in lying to me.”

Jaskier swallowed. “And what else can your witcher senses pick up?” he asked. Okay, so maybe he was a little afraid, but not for the reasons that Geralt would think. If Geralt could smell fear, then it was only natural that he could smell other emotions, love for one, lust for another. Oh gods, how many times had Jaskier come back to camp after a moment alone to himself? He’d never even considered that Geralt could smell it on him.

“On you?”

“Yes.”

“Now?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier would praise all the gods if he never had to hear that again. For once, he would just like Geralt to use his damn words! He was tired of trying to translate all the bloody grunts. Whilst he was unusually proficient in it, he was also a troubadour, a poet, a wordsmith. He took a deep breath, ready to give Geralt a piece of his mind when Geralt cut him off, pressing his palm to Jaskier’s lips. He huffed and glared at the witcher.

“Let me think, Jaskier,” Geralt said softly. Jaskier rolled his eyes and did the only rational thing he could think of. He licked Geralt. The witcher snarled and pulled his hand away. “Urgh!”

Jaskier cackled and put his hands on his hips. “Serves you right, darling.”

Geralt growled and shoved Jaskier lightly in the chest so he fell back onto the bed. “You stink of many things, bard.”

“Oh?”

“Lust mostly, bloody hell I’ve never known anyone to reek of arousal every fucking hour of the day,” Geralt grumbled but there was a fondness in his voice. Jaskier felt himself blush at the witcher’s words. He didn’t mention that his arousal around Geralt didn’t necessarily equate to feeling it all the time. That was a fun little fact for another time, possibly never. One to write into his songs perhaps. “and then something… sweeter.”

“Sweeter?” Jaskier asked, his heart beating faster than any percussion at Oxenfurt. There was still time to run right… maybe the trek down the mountain wouldn’t be as hard as the journey up.

“Not sure what it is,” Geralt admitted and Jaskier let out a sigh of relief.

Oh.

Jaskier’s relief didn’t last long at all. Geralt didn’t know what it was… because he’d never experienced it. Didn’t have the knowledge to put a name to it. He knew fear, and lust… probably anger too.

But he didn’t know love.

Jaskier wanted to kiss him. He wanted to worship him. He wanted Geralt to know how much he was loved, adored, but he was a coward; a fucking coward.

“Ah, right, well… I have no idea what that could be. New perfume perhaps?”

“Hmm,” Geralt answered, not sounding very convinced and Jaskier didn’t blame him.

“Shall we go?” Jaskier asked quickly, changing the subject before Geralt could press. “I am starving!”

Geralt led him through the stone corridors of Kaer Morhen, occasionally pointing out rooms that Jaskier might need to be able to find. He learnt that they were expecting two more witchers for the winter; Geralt’s family, Eskel and Lambert. He’d heard rumours that Lambert had made a friend on the road but, like Jaskier, he wouldn’t be allowed to winter with them unless they were in a relationship.

Jaskier scoffed haughtily. “You do realise that that is a stupid rule, right?”

“It protects us.”

“And you need protection from your friends? Is romance really that much stronger than friendship?” Jaskier muttered. It was bullshit, but he was a little smug that Geralt was prepared to break the rules for him.

Their friendship meant more to the witcher than he’d realised.

“Geralt, bard,” Vesemir greeted with a grunt, gesturing to the bowls of stew that didn’t look too dissimilar to the bowls of food that Geralt pulled together on the road. Jaskier was grateful for his years of acting training at Oxenfurt, because otherwise he would have pulled a terrible face that would have only offended Geralt’s father figure.

Instead, he swiped up his spoon with a cheerful smile and slid into the bench. Geralt silently moved to sit next to him and Jaskier, taking advantage of their situation, pressed a little closer than he would normally dare. Their thighs touched under the table and Jaskier felt a blush creep up on his face. He hooked his foot around Geralt’s, ignoring the startled look he received.

“Good evening,” Jaskier greeted with faux cheer “Oh this. This smells delicious, I can certainly see where Geralt’s gets his culinary skills from.”

Geralt almost choked on his food. Whilst Jaskier’s words sounded like a compliment, they both knew how much Jaskier had complained about Geralt’s cooking over the years. In fact, Jaskier had taken to bringing his own seasoning and herbs on their travels. Anything to save him from the bland never-ending stews of the road.

Vesemir smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Geralt has the culinary skills of a queen, bard.”

Jaskier flushed; rumbled. “Ah well, it does look rather similar.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Jaskier dropped his head, feeling sufficiently shamed. Only he would accidentally insult their hosts on the first days whilst trying to make a quick-witted joke at Geralt’s expense.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and ate a spoonful of his soup. The flavours exploded in his mouth and he moaned around his spoon. “Oh, dearest Melitele, this is good! My sincerest apologies, Vesemir. Lesson learnt.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing. Whilst their cooking skills were vastly different, Geralt and Vesemir’s conversational skills were apparently not so far apart.

“Oh, you have got to tell me how you made this, it’s bloody delicious! Not even the finest banquets in all the Continent can hold a candle to—”

“That’s enough now, bard,” Vesemir growled but there was mirth in his eyes.

Jaskier nodded and went back to his soup. Dinner was a quiet affair. Vesemir asked Geralt a few questions about life on the path, mostly professional curiosity from one witcher to another. Geralt’s answers were monosyllabic and boring, hardly a story to tell. Jaskier vowed to retell their adventures to the Kaer Morhen witchers over the winter. He would do them justice, and contrary to what Geralt thinks of his ballads, he would even tell the truth. They only needed a minor embellishment here and there. The winter would hopefully give him plenty of time to work on a new set. The time he’d normally spend teaching could be spent creating masterpieces, the likes of which the Continent had never seen before.

“Well, this has been very lovely, I thank you once again, my dear Vesemir, for the exquisite dining, but it’s been a long day and we really should be getting to sleep,” Jaskier announced with a flourish, giving Geralt a wink.

“Just remember, bard, that witchers have better hearing than you can even imagine,” Vesemir said with possibly the best poker face that Jaskier had ever seen. It was only the slight twinkle in his ancient eyes that gave away the joke.

Jaskier laughed and pressed his lips to Geralt’s cheek. “We’ll be sure to remember that, thank you.”

_________________

By the time they got back up to Geralt’s—no, their room—Jaskier was panicking. It had been an innocent joke on Vesemir’s part, a warning that privacy was not something they could expect. It was possibly even a plea to keep any sexual activities as quiet as possible and at reasonable hours of the day.

But…

Jaskier was panicking.

“Geralt?” he asked as he paced around the room.

Geralt was busy stripping off and getting ready for bed. Normally Jaskier would try to peek little glances, but he was too anxious. He didn’t have the luxury of ogling Geralt at that moment. They had a problem.

“Hmm?”

“Geralt, we have a problem.”

Geralt snorted. “We always have a problem, Jaskier, and normally you’re the one causing it.”

Jaskier gaped, his hands flying to his hips in a display of outrage. “Geralt! That is just rude! Mister-Let’s-Call-The-Law-of-Surprise-Even-After-We’ve-Just-Seen-How-Bad-It-Can-Be. You are rude and grumpy, and I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

Geralt turned, giving Jaskier a rather lovely view of his bare torso, and raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have been there at all if you could keep your dick in your pants.”

“Oh ho ho! No, no, no. You are not blaming that one on me.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Focus, Jask.”

Focus…

“Oh bollocks, yes, yes. Focus! Where was I?”

“You have a problem?” Geralt reminded him gently.

“We have a problem, darling. Witcher hearing,” he announced, his arms wide.

Geralt just stared at him blankly.

“They’ll know if we don’t… you know?” Jaskier hissed, but Vesemir’s words still rang in his head.

“So?”

“Oh come on, Geralt. That’s just not realistic! I assume you have at least mentioned me in passing over the years and the umm… well the trouble my umm… my habits can cause.”

“Fuck.”

“Precisely!”

#the witcher #geraskier #witcher #kaer morhen #kaer morons #eskel #lambert #vesemir #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #wolfie’s witcher writing

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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

Text

The Price (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Reader is a technical analyst for the BAU. She did not expect to be smitten by the resident genius.

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic as well as my first time writing smut. I’d like to thank @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for beta reading my work (you’re a gem and I’ll fight for you). Also a quick thank you to @imagining-in-the-margins and those in the discord for being so welcoming and helping me with this. The fic is inspired by @erin-bo-berin Sweet Cheeks.

Category: Fluff and Smut

Content Warnings: Oral (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

There are a lot of things I enjoy about this job. The salary is decent. My coworkers are pretty cool. I get to interact with a sexy genius from time to time- you know, the usual that comes with being employed by the government.

I started as a technical analyst for the BAU a few months prior, working alongside the one and only Penelope Garcia with assisting the rest of the team behind some computer screens. Coding and hacking is second nature to me so the job is not too difficult. It was either this or facing some years in jail because I couldn’t cover my tracks fast enough. Looking at mangled and mutilated bodies on a weekly basis is better than prison.

I get along rather well with the team. I pretty much call everyone by a term of endearment, much to Garcia’s delight. It was one of the things we had in common and helped us get along with one another much faster. I sometimes can get carried away with the innuendos, but Garcia welcomes everything I say with open arms.

I typically save my more sensual remarks for the doctor. I remember the good old days when he used to be so tongue-tied by my actions. Now my words barely surprises him.

A voice broke my concentration. “What got you thinking so hard, angel?” I turn towards the person, a smile already adorning my face. Lo and behold, Dr. Spencer Reid has graced me with his delectable presence.

“Would you believe me if I said that I was thinking of you Doc?” He had a small smile on his face. I could pretty much categorize all the smiles he uses because of how often I stare at him. I mean, it is a tragedy to not stare at such beauty. This particular smile means that he is content and comfortable.

“May I ask exactly what it was that you were thinking about?” he asked.

“I cannot share the sordid details of my mind with you just yet darling. You’ll just have to use that beautiful mind of yours and conjure up something imaginative.”

He let out a small laugh and helped me carry the files I was juggling. My eyes immediately went to his hands. The things I’ll let those hands do to me. I bet only one is needed to perfectly wrap around my -- No bitch, focus. We got a case to present in five minutes. Right, right. Work now, daydream later.

We entered the conference room, where the rest of the team was already sitting at the round table, waiting for us. I gave out the files with Spencer’s help while Penelope started up the monitor.

“You guys are staying local but time is of the essence” she informed us. The TV lit up with four pictures of young boys. “We have a kidnapping case at Stafford County.”

“Were they kidnapped at the same time or place?” asked JJ as she skimmed over the report I handed out earlier.

“No” I said as I pointed to the two younger boys on the screen. “Jacob Rivers and David Hall were taken from their respective homes 48 hours ago” I then pointed to the two slightly older boys “Benjamin Harris was taken 12 hours ago at a park and Scott Turner was taken from the mall less than 6 hours ago.”

“Do these boys have anything in common?” Morgan asked out loud.

“Other than physical appearance and age group, these boys don’t have any similarities. They didn’t even go to the same school. As a matter of fact, David Hall was home-schooled.” replied Garcia.

“Garcia and I couldn’t find any common ground in the families’ educational, economic, or social backgrounds either” I added. “Once you guys take off, we’ll do a further dive into their personal histories.”

“The UnSub is already escalating, kidnapping from a private home and kidnapping from a crowded area within hours of each event is fairly drastic” Rossi stated.

“Maybe the Unsub is on a time frame? They could be feeling pressured and desperate” Emily questioned, trying to come up with some kind of initial profile.

Hotch already started standing up. “We’ll know more after analyzing the crime scenes and talking to local PD. Let’s head out.” The rest of the team followed, gathering their files and making an exit towards the door while Garcia headed for our office. Spencer lagged behind a bit and I already knew why. We have a little tradition of bidding farewell to one another before he takes off for a case.

I stood next to him, bumping my shoulder against his upper arm. “Don’t miss me too much while you are out there.”

“The more you remind me I have to leave, the more I want to stay here.” he grinned.

I snorted at his words, knowing that he was full of shit. There is nothing more that Reid loves than being out in the field. “Go be a hero and come back to me in one piece pretty boy.”

“Yes Ma’am.” he replied as he went to follow the team towards the elevator.

I swear that boy is immune to my teasing now. I miss seeing his face become flush, but I also enjoy the playful repartee we have now. I remember the first interaction I had with Spencer quite vividly. It truly was a comical moment.

“Everyone this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She will be working alongside Garcia.” Hotch stated as he introduced me to the team. I have already met him and Penelope prior to being presented to everyone else.

“Derek Morgan, pleasure to meet you.” Whoa. If tall, dark, and handsome was a person, Morgan would be fit for the role. He offered his hand, which I immediately took.

“The pleasure is all mine” I replied with a wide smile.

I directed my attention to a much older gentleman. “David Rossi” said the Italian man who reminded me of a mob boss.

“Charmed to meet you.” I shook his hand, surprised by the strength behind it. Those older bones are still working for him.

Next came the petite blonde, whose figure I was both envious and enamored with. “Jennifer Jareau, but everyone here calls me JJ for short.”

“In that case, please call me (Y/N/N).” I shook her hand, and became even more envious with how soft her skin was. She has got to tell me her secrets.

I focused on the brunette with shoulder-length hair. “Emily Prentiss”. My God, I think being attractive is a requirement for this team. She offered her hand to shake and her grip was firm. Note to self, forget about Rossi; don’t get on Emily’s bad side.

“Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the final individual and was blown away by his beauty. Yup, my previous thought has been confirmed. Only good-looking people are allowed pass these doors. His bone structure looked like it was sculpted by Roman artists. His body was lean and slender, reminding me of a runner’s physique. My eyes stared up to the softest hazel eyes I have ever seen.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” he introduced. I offered my hand immediately, wanting to feel his skin against mine.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you already knew that,” I said softly, my hand still out. He just stared at it as if it was an anomaly.

“Uh-the amount of pathogens passed through a handshake is astounding. A high five transmit half the number. But even then, a kiss is much more safe.” he quickly stated as he nodded his head. I almost didn’t catch any of it. Partially because of the rapid speech, partially because I was staring at his lips.

“Hmm, that’s news to me. However, if a kiss is what you want…” I lowered my hand and took a step closer to him. My eyes slowly moved from his eyes to his mouth and then back up. He took a slight step back.

“N-N-No, that’s not—I-I mean that —uhh...” His face was flushed and his tongue shot out to run against his lips. His eyes quickly darted across the room, seeking some help. I felt a sense of pride knowing I made this man flustered.

“I’m just teasing Doc.” If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was frightened by me. Maybe he was, but the blush on his face and the way he kept staring gave me further information on him.

“Don’t mind Reid,” Morgan said, coming to the young man’s rescue. “He has a thing with germs.” He finished, a smirk plastered on his face. Well, I hope he soon develops a thing for something else. Or rather someone else.

I was just about to make another sly comment when Hotch interrupted. “Back to the case at hand.” He gave us all a pointed look. Right, I am at my first day at work. I’ll focus on hot doctors with hotter smiles and the hottest face at my own time.

“Yes sir,” Garcia stated, as she started pushing buttons on a remote. The TV turned on and pictures of three different women showed up on the screen. They all looked to be strangled to death. “You guys are needed in Toledo, Ohio.” Garcia goes on to describe the case while the team starts the early stages of conducting a profile.

“Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says and the everyone disperses. Garcia walked up to me and handed me some documents from the case file.

“C’mon cupcake, we gotta do some preliminary work to get the case going much faster.” I followed her to what she called the “bat cave”. I scanned the small room and immediately fell in love. Computers and monitors littered almost every inch of the place. I saw a lot of colorful knickknacks displayed on one side of the desk, knowing already who they belonged to. The area was endearing and had a cozy feel to it.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. This place is a dream come true.” I am sure she can hear the awe in my voice.

“I know, right. Wait until you actually use it girlie, the framework on these things is out of this world.” I sat myself on a chair nearby and rolled in front of a screen.

“Alrighty. You can do some background checks on these girls while I gather more information from the police reports. Let me know if there are any commonalities among any of them. We’ll relay that info with the team.”

“Gotcha babe, I’ll have the information ready ASAP.” I responded, already typing away on the computer. I’m already starting to like it here.

*Later that day*

Garcia and I haven’t found much in common between the victims of the crimes, much to our dismay. I was left in the office to continue searching for important information on the girls while she went to fax some data to the precinct when the phone started to ring.

I quickly answered and put it on speaker. “(Y/L/N) at your humble service. How may I serve you?”

“Oh-uh is Garcia around” replied a high-pitched voice, which I immediately recognized as Reid. I don’t know whether or not I should be insulted that he wanted Penelope or pleased that I probably still have him flustered.

“She’s a bit pre-occupied at the moment. But rest assured I can find whatever you need Doc. Especially if you ask nicely.”

“Uh-I need you to pull up information on the mothers. We think they were all in the same sorority, however not necessarily at the same time. We need a list of all the members of the sorority from the time the mothers joined with a 3-year pre- and post-graduation.”

“No problemo sweetness. Anything else I can do for you? I have a lot of other services that can be helpful.” I stated, a teasing tone in my voice as I already set up my search.

“No-no, that’s all. Um thanks.” I can already picture the blush coating his cheeks as he stammered his response.

“Alright love, call me back if you need anything. Or if you change your mind.” I hung up the phone and started organizing the list in front of me.

And from then on, I have enjoyed pretty much all the moments I had with the BAU. It took some time, but Spencer now has accepted and even returned my little flirtations. We often get compared to Garcia and Morgan. But with a lot more sexual tension, at least on my end. I have to remind myself from time to time to calm down before I combust in the middle of a conference room or the bullpen. C'est la vie.

I made my way to the cavern of all things amazing and settled in front of my computers. Pen looked at me with a knowing expression on her face. “You’re gloomy.”

I pouted as I put my earpiece on. “I am not gloomy, I am horny,” I rebuked.

“How long has it been since you got some?”

“I’m not sure but it feels like I have not gotten any since the Stone Age,” I groaned out.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell him how you feel,” she pointed her pink glittery pen in my direction, “I bet he would fuck you right here if you let him.”

And there goes my thought process, as always, overtaken by Spencer Reid. “Babe, please. This is not helping my situation.”

“Just telling you how it is.”

●●●

We have been sitting in front of these screens for hours. The team has made some progress but they’re missing an important piece to fit the puzzle. Garcia has been looking into the background of the neighbors when I heard a small stomach grumble coming from her direction. I let out a laugh as she huffed out “I am going to grab a snack from the breakroom, you want anything boo?”

“If it ain’t alcohol or chocolate, I don’t want it.”

“Noted,” she said as she left the room. I really hope she finds a couple of cupcakes or something.

I continued trying to get information on these missing kids when my headpiece played the Doctor Who theme song, informing me that Einstein was calling in. “Goddess of knowledge and wisdom at your disposal.”

“I didn’t know I had Athena at my fingertips.” How is it possible that nine words have short-circuited my brain just now? Is it the voice or the way he basically called me a Greek Deity? Probably both.

Of course I slyly responded, “Oh my Hephaestus, you have all of me at your fingertips.” I heard a chuckle and I immediately knew it belonged to Morgan. A slight blush crept onto my cheeks when I heard a random voice asking why Spencer called his girlfriend in the middle of a case.

“I should have mentioned that you were on speakerphone.”

“Naughty boy, you know I charge extra for groups.” Now this was followed by some choked out noises and a bunch of giggles. I could only assume the whole precinct was amused by my antics at this point.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“I can, for a price.”

“A price?”

“Yes, a price that I would inform you of in private. Now the reason for your call…” I drew out. Thank goodness Garcia wasn’t here. I don’t need her looking at me as if I am a phone sex operator.

“I need you to check foster children between the ages of four and eight within a 25-mile radius. We are looking for a homosexual couple that were looking to adopt but were rejected. The names should be on multiple applications among different sites. Let me know what you find.”

“I’ll have that information at the palm of your hands soon” Meanwhile, I am over here wishing that I was at the palm of his hands.

“Thank you, my Goddess” I can’t help but smile when he says things like this. Since when were the roles reversed in our friendship?

“Anything for a gorgeous worshipper. TTYL.”

Garcia chose that moment to walk back in while I had this silly grin on my face. She stared at me and I already knew what she was going to say.

“If you don’t have a piece of chocolate or a cocktail on you, I am not talking.”

All she did was laugh at me.

●●●

The team was able to find all four boys safely. The UnSubs were a male couple who wanted to adopt but kept facing discrimination against the agencies. It is a shame that they felt they had to resort to kidnapping in order to have a family.

Now Garcia and I are scanning the notes the team faxed to us earlier today. They informed us that they would be back here in half an hour or so.

“Shoot, I didn’t think it would take this long to scan these damn files.” Garcia murmured. I looked over at her and saw a small stack of documents that still needed to be put into the system.

I walked over and grabbed the pile from her. “Go, I’ll take care of it from here doll.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad. You did your portion of the work already.”

“Don’t you have to be at the rehearsal in 20 minutes? How is the theater going to operate without their main lead?” I placed the documents on my side of the desk and moved to gather Garcia’s belongings. I picked up her purse and jacket before handing it to her, quickly pushing her towards the door. “I got this, think of it as an IOU.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I owe you big. Thank you sugar, see you tomorrow.” Garcia hurriedly exited the door and headed towards the elevator.

I looked towards the papers, a low groan leaving my mouth. The faster I go through this, the better.

●●●

I was just finished implementing all the documents into the computer when I heard a knock at the door. I turned around and saw Spencer’s head peeking through. “Evening handsome, to what do I owe this visit?”

“Garcia passed by me a while ago and informed me you were in here finishing some extra work. I wanted to check on you; see if you needed my help.”

“Thanks Doc, but you’re a few minutes too late. I already finished scanning the files. Besides, you’re not the best with technology, much less these computers.”

“Maybe not. But I am a fast learner and I pay close attention to detail.” Either my ears were playing a trick on me or Spencer’s voice lowered an octave or two.

I remembered what Penelope said earlier today and decided to just go for it. “I could collect on that price from earlier.” I leaned against the desk and stared into his eyes. C’mon Doc, pick up the hint. Rather, pick me up instead.

“Well I was thinking that I can get you dinner.” he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

That’s great, but not what I had in mind. “I was hoping for something else” I looked into his eyes, then slowly trailed my eyes downwards. Kiss me. Kiss me. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me. Kiss me.

Unfortunately, Spencer is not a mind reader. He lowered his head and looked slightly dejected. “Oh well umm—would you prefer to go to a theater?” Oh Doc, you sexy, naïve, intelligent, innocent man. I guess if you want something you have to do it yourself.

I sat on the edge of my desk. “Come here Spencer.”

His head perked up, slightly intrigued since I rarely call him by his name. He walked to where I was sitting but there was still space between us.

“Closer, I don’t bite.” Unless you want me to.

He moved closer to me and I was able to rest my hands on his shoulders. Thankfully the height of the table let us be more at level with one another.

I made sure to look into his eyes as I said “I am going to kiss you. If that isn’t something you want, tell me now.”

He was speechless. His mouth was moving but no sounds came out. If the circumstances were different I would have appreciated seeing his rattled expression once more. I waited a few seconds, but he still has yet to say anything.

“Spen-mmh” before I knew it, his mouth was upon mine. He gently cradled my face as his lips moved against my own. My eyes closed as I felt nothing but bliss. As cliché as it sounds, I was in paradise because of this kiss alone.

His tongue peeked and swiped against my lower lip, trying to have a taste of me. I was more than happy to grant him entrance, a moan leaving my body as his tongue touched mine.

All parts of me were trying to feel him. I had one hand in his hair while the other grabbed onto the back of his shirt. My chest was pressed against his while my legs lazily wrapped around his midsection. His scent was intoxicating to me. It was a coffee-like smell as if he just walked out of a café. He tasted so sweet, all I wanted to do was keep his mouth on mine. But my body needed air so I slowly pulled away.

He tried to catch his breath as his forehead rested against mine. “So you don’t want dinner?”

“Doc the only thing I am hungry for right now is you. We’ll get food afterward, alright?” Spencer nodded his head while licking his lips. My eyes hungrily followed the action and I just had to get another taste. I pulled him towards me, his hands once again holding onto my face. He was much more dominant with this kiss, and I was more than willing to give him the control. His hands then trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to his pelvis. I jerked against him and was rewarded with a groan.

He squeezed me tighter as his lips broke away from mine once more. He placed a peck on my lips, then my cheek before trailing down my neck. I felt my body heat up as I released a small moan. Fucking hell, he is going to be the death of me and we barely did anything.

Spencer started to lightly nibble on my neck when I pulled him back by his hair. “It is summer and I am not wearing a turtleneck in 80° weather. If you’re gonna give me some hickeys, they better be on my chest.” He murmured something that I couldn’t quite comprehend before undoing the buttons of my blouse.

Hell, I am not the only one who is gonna be undressed so I started unbuttoning his dress shirt as well. It was a race to see who would get the other’s shirt off first. Of course I lost because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But when his warm lips kissed their way towards the middle of my cleavage, I felt like a fucking champion.

I tried my best to shimmy out of the sleeves of my blouse while Spencer attempted to take my bra off, his lips still leaving a love mark against my chest. Once we got rid of the shirt and the bra, his mouth immediately enveloped one of my nipples.

“Fuck” I yelped loudly, “a little warning next time Doc.”

“Sorry” he muttered as he continued to suck on my breast while palming the other between his dexterous fingers. That had to be the most insincere apology I have ever heard from him. An idea came across my head. I slowly removed his shirt, watching it pool on the floor. I then raked the nails of one hand across his chest while the other pulled against his hair. Hard. He retaliated by lightly biting my nipple. Fuck, the plan backfired. Abort mission, abort the damn mission.

Spencer let out a small chuckle as he pulled away from my breast, an audible pop leaving his mouth. My hands went to his face and I moved him up to look at me. His eyes were dilated and his mouth was swollen. His face was flush and he was taking deeper breaths than usual. He looked so beautiful like this.

He had a dorky smile on his face and I realized that I said the words out loud. I felt my face heat up fast and he swiftly commented “I’d never thought I’d see you be so thrown off because of me.”

He rested his hands against either side of the desk and just looked at me. “Shut up and kiss me.” I hissed, already missing the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” he asked. I was about to reply when he interrupted “Do you want me to kiss you on your lips? Or maybe you want me back on those beautiful breasts of yours?”

Have mercy on me, I never believed Spencer Reid could make me so wet just with his words. Sure, I thought of it, but I didn’t believe it would happen to me.

“Maybe you want me to go lower. Should I place my lips on that pussy of yours?” Oh my fuck, I never want this moment to end. I nodded my head so quickly, I could have sworn I given myself whiplash.

“I want to hear you say it,” he breathed out.

“Yes, yes, please. I want you to eat my pussy. Please.” I begged. Dignity be damned.

“That’s my good girl” How is it possible that he went from the dorky adorable doctor to this assertive, stimulating specimen in a matter of minutes? I didn’t think he had a sensual bone in his body. But I am glad to be proven wrong.

Spencer lowered himself to his knees while I clumsily attempted to rid myself of my skirt and panties. I lifted my lower body up as he pulled the clothing off of me. Penelope would have a field day if she knew that I was sitting butt naked on the desk with Spencer Reid between my legs. Hell, I am having a field day knowing this.

Spencer, being the teasing bastard that he has been for the past few minutes, started kissing my legs first. “That’s not where I said I wanted you to kiss me” I huffed out.

“Hush” was all he said as he continued the slow trail up, making sure to alternate between each leg. I was already breathing as if I have ran a marathon, my patience was waning at this point. Finally, he made his way to where I needed him most. He put his hands on my thighs and pushed them further apart.

My hands landed on top of his head, playing with the curls. “You’re comfortable down there Doc?” I snickered, loving the sight of his head between my legs. All he did was nip my inner thigh harshly. I shrieked at the action. I’m starting to think this man has a tiny biting fetish.

I wasn’t ready for when his tongue parted my folds. I squeaked as he teasingly lapped the arousal that had formed the second he walked into the room. I tried rolling my hips but his hands made me stay put on the desk. I never knew he could hold me down like this. I couldn’t even be mad because the pleasure he was giving me was incredible.

Spencer continued to tease me, his tongue never going where I needed it most. He made sure to explore as much as possible as leisurely as possible. “Spencer, please” I cried out. He let out a small hum, the vibration causing a shiver to rack my body.

His tongue finally entered me, much to my delight. No amount of imagination could have ever prepared me for the things this appendage can do to me. He continued this soft, flat movement that was driving me crazy. My hands tightened in his hair, hoping he would go a bit faster.

“You taste so good princess, I don’t want this to end.”

“That’s my Queen to you” I jested. He didn’t like that since he responded with a resounding smack against my outer thigh. Ouch, note to self, Spencer doesn’t like being teased during sexy times. Hmm. On second thought, continue to tease Spencer during sexy times.

I felt his finger probe my entrance, moving up and down before pushing inside of me. I let out a distressing whine as he started slowly moving his finger in and out of me, curling as he did so. His mouth was on my clit, sucking and kissing it as if he has done so all his life.

My body started heating up and trembling. I tried, and failed, to roll my hips against the movement. “Spe-Spencer” I wailed. He didn’t relent.

Spencer entered a second finger into me as his tongue gave small, flickering motions against my bundle of nerves. I had to move one hand to my mouth to prevent any loud noises from being heard outside the room. Shit, did we even lock the door?

That thought immediately left my mind as my core started to tighten. Spencer must have known that I was getting close to my orgasm because he moved his fingers more diligently within me. I felt his fingers curl as they pulled out, I felt his tongue lick thoroughly against my pearl, I felt my ecstasy rising within me. It took one more deep press of his fingers and a harsh suck for me to come all over his face. I bit down on my fingers as I moaned out loud.

“That was so much better then what I imagined” I panted out, the words barely coming out comprehensible. I had a giant smile decorating my face.

He pulled his face up, a smug grin gracing his face. “Is this what you were thinking about earlier this morning?” he taunted. I couldn’t even give him a smartass remark because I was too busy trying to come back to reality. He pulled his fingers out and held them in front of my face.

“Open” he ordered. I complied and he pushed his fingers inside of my mouth. “You look so pretty when you follow instructions well. See how good you taste.”

I pulled my head back, taking his fingers out of my mouth. “I bet I taste a lot better on that tongue of yours.”

He tangled his hand in my hair and pulled me to a kiss. I immediately opened and welcomed his tongue against mine. I was right, I do taste better on him. I let out a deep moan and pulled away far enough to gently bite down on his lower lip.

He looks at me, that devilish tongue of his running against his lower lip before entering my mouth once again. With his lips still on mine, he picked me up and move to sit on my desk chair. It was nothing short of a miracle that we managed not to fall on the floor.

I placed my hand on top of his erection through his slacks and he drew a quick intake of breath. I started palming him as I grinded myself against him. I pulled back as I whispered, “I need you, Spencer”.

“Y’know this is the most I have heard you call me by my name in any given moment we have been together.” He unzipped his slacks and pushed down his pants and boxers as much as he could with me on top of him.

I looked down, finally being able to see his cock. Is it possible to get aroused further through sight alone? Because I think I creamed myself again. God, I wish I could show him my oral skills, but we’ll save that for another time.

“Would you rather I call you by something else?” I asked, attempting to move my lower body so that it can align with his cock. I say attempt because Spencer currently had his hands on my thighs again.

“No, I like the way my name sounds as you moan it out. Don’t hide your pleasure from me this time.” He maneuvered my legs to rest upon the armrest on either side of the chair, leaving my pussy wide open for him.

I gave him an incredulous look. “Are you forgetting that we are at work?”

He started rubbing the tip of his cock against my lower lips. “I didn’t forget. I just don’t fucking care.” And with that, he slowly penetrated me.

We both groaned at the intrusion. He gradually started entering me as I adjusted to his size. Inch by inch, he gave me all of him until he was buried to the hilt. I took a moment to savor the feel of Spencer inside of me before I started grinding against him. He took that as a hint to begin thrusting.

He started slow, taking his time and having us enjoy the feeling of one another. “Your cunt is so fucking tight” he hissed into my ear and I gave out a loud whine.

“That’s because you have such a big cock, Doc” I managed to moan out. He smacked my ass before grabbing each cheek tightly in his hands. “I want you to call me by my name” he grits out.

“Spencer, baby please give it to me. I’ve been waiting for this Spencer, I’ve been waiting for you.” He started kissing my neck once more and my eyes started to closed. I wanted to focus on the pleasure he was giving me.

He tightly grabbed me, moving my hips along with his thrusts. I was close to being pushed over the edge once more. The only sounds occupying the room were our moans and skin smacking against skin as we chased our pleasure.

“Open your mouth” I heard him say. I opened my eyes to see his thumb positioned over my lips. I let out a small whimper as I sucked his digit earnestly. I made sure to coat his finger with a lot of saliva, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it when it was out of my mouth.

He pulled his thumb out and immediately placed it on my clit. I gave out an embarrassingly loud sob as he started moving his finger against me in soft circular motions. I placed my lips on his neck, trying to muffle the noise coming out of my throat.

Spencer quickly grabbed my hair and pulled my head away as he started to slow down. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want to hear your pleasure?” In that moment, Spencer controlled my mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sorry Spencer. I’ll be your good girl, please don’t stop.” He returned back to the previous pace and thrust into me even harder. We both started chasing our orgasms, not being able to hold back any longer. He was pounding into me relentlessly and I was loving it. I am sure that I am going to be sore after this.

“Come for me (Y/N), I want to feel this tight cunt squeeze around my cock.” Say less, I am already ahead of you. My eyes were rolling to the back of my head and I felt my pussy pulsate around him. With one last motion against his thumb, I cried out his name multiple times as I climaxed.

Spencer whispered my name as he continued pushing into me, chasing his own orgasm. He thrust a couple more times before quickly pulling out, spilling himself over my stomach. I panted as I laid my head against the crook of his neck. His fingers thrummed a slow rhythm upon my lower back.

“So about that dinner... do you want to get Indian food?”

“Yeah, I can go for some samosas right now.”

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

Text

TF x Graves, 2500 words, complete and utter fluff

Stifling another yawn against the back of my hand I glance over at the window, which shows only the flat dark of a moonless night outside, before turning my eyes back to the line of T.F.’s naked back.

I’m already undressed and perched on the side of the bed, watching as T.F. is still in the middle of his nightly ritual of hanging or folding his fine clothes up all properly and neatly, lest they, I don’t know, unduly crease somewhere they ain’t meant to or somethin’. Listen, I keep my clothes in a pile on the floor by the side of the bed, right next to the shotgun, both within easy reach in the case of a middle-of-the-night emergency skipping of town. Our priorities in these matters don’t really intersect much, but to each his own and so on.

I don’t know why I’m waiting for him to come to bed to lie down myself, exactly — my eyes are already making a spirited attempt at staying shut on me whenever I blink, I’m pretty sure I’d be out and snoring in about three seconds once I got settled — but my skin has that thin restless thrum all through it that I know from experience won’t be satisfied until he’s settled into place against me and besides, the view is nothin’ to sneeze at in the meantime. He stands there shirtless, belt unbuckled and hanging loose around his narrow hips, though the fastenings of his trousers are still done up. In the light of the oil lamp across the room he’s in a rare state of relaxed unselfconscious disarray, his hair grown out long enough again that it spills over his shoulders and down his back while he fastidiously fastens the cufflinks back into place on the empty shirt so they’ll be easy to find in the morning. As he finishes up with the cufflinks he sings to himself under his breath, a good-natured jaunty little tune I vaguely remember the Brick would sometimes break out once you got a couple of drinks in him.

The hum under my skin grows higher and keener.

Stretching an arm out I hook my fingers into one of his belt loops and gently pull him in by it towards the side of the bed, until he’s standing between my legs. It prompts a half-bemused noise from him, but he goes along easily — when I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my forehead against his belly he seems to catch on, though, a sound of amusement vibrating through his chest.

He slides his hand to the back of my neck, twining his fingers into the short hair there, thumb trailing back and forth along the hairline.

T.F.’s too damned scrawny to have much in the way of padding anywhere, but there’s the warm body softness to him here nevertheless, the sweet yield and shift of a living thing whose pliancy belies the supple strength beneath. I rest my cheek against the flat of his stomach and sigh, moving my hand at the small of his back in slow caressing circles.

“Come to bed already,” I murmur, too sleep-softened along the edges to worry overmuch about makin’ sense.

He chuckles, fingers stroking through my hair. “Well, I was on my way, but then I was waylaid by some deplorable fellow in the process. Hell of a thing.”

I grin and turn my face up to him, so that my chin is resting against his belly and my lips brush his skin when I talk. “Huh. Sounds like a real shady character. You want a trustworthy sorta guy to escort you safely the rest of the way?”

“With such dangerous reprobates skulking around in the area, that’s probably for the best,” T.F. nods somberly, fond amusement deepening his voice. He runs his thumb down the bridge of my nose. “Could I afford to hire the services of a strapping upstanding gentleman like yourself, though?”

I make a nonchalant sound in my nose, squeezing him closer against me for a moment. “Eh, don’t worry ‘bout it, this one’s on the house.”

His thumb drifts down to rest at the upturned corner of my mouth as he grins back at me. “Hey, looks like it’s my lucky day.”

I kiss his stomach and lean back enough so I can start in on the fastenings of his trousers — not with any sort of heat behind it, there’s no hint of sex in the air, but in a weird way this is equally satisfying, the everyday-textured contentment of being close without any particular purpose, being the one to slowly render him naked in front of me for no other reason than that he lets me, his hands still smoothing patiently through my hair while I work.

Once I’ve got all the buttons sorted I run my thumb along the sharp edge of his hip bone until I can tuck it into the waist of his trousers and use it to tug them down. We get them about half-way down his thighs like that before we have to pause for him to shimmy out of them the rest of the way on his own, his hand resting on my shoulder for balance as he does the traditional one-legged hop to extricate his foot. Serves him right for only ever wearing pants that might as well have been painted onto him. I mean, not that I’m complainin’, mind.

“Whoa!” he says, laughing as he almost overbalances at the last hurdle, but my hand shoots out to steady him by the hip before too much disaster can be wrought. “Well, not the smoothest strip tease I’ve ever pulled off, sorry about the inconvenience.”

I nose at the newly revealed crease of his hip over the edge of his underwear. “Eh, that’s okay, if I actually wanted a proper show I’d just suggest a round of strip poker again and sit back and watch while you lose.”

“Oh, that’s a strange yet beautiful dream world you’ve made up for yourself there, Malcolm. It’s touching, really, the things the mind will do to protect itself from the truth. Positively — aah!”

T.F. jumps as I draw some of the skin of his hip between my lips and use them to nip sharply at it. His startled yelp turns into a snigger as I let go, possibly ruining the castigating effects somewhat when I brush my lips soothingly over that spot right after.

“Let that be a lesson to ya,” I say sternly.

“A lesson on what, that your mom was apparently half turtle?”

I grunt, still trailing soft kisses over his skin. “That judge in Piltover was right back then, you are an incorrigible menace to all decent and right-thinking people everywhere.”

“First of all, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Malcolm, thank you. Two, including yourself among the ‘decent and right-thinking’ feels like the invention of some fresh new form of fraud by way of imposture unfolding before my eyes, and it’s an honour. And third, that seems to me to be some very selective memory you have there, considering His Honour Judge Highton had some even more colourful words for you after you blew up the entire north wall of the court building breakin’ me out.”

“He might’ve been given to wearing a damn silly mop on his head, but you couldn’t fault him on his vocabulary,” I concede. Before that whole incident I’d honestly thought the wigs were some sort of practical joke the Pilties would play on gullible outsiders, but as it turns out no, if you get sent to jail in the twin cities they add the indignity of makin’ someone wearing a dead badger on their head break the bad news to you. It’s a strange ol’ world out there, alright. In Bilgewater, where people are much more sensible, the justice system basically boils down to the bounty board, or — if you’ve really managed to make a nuisance of yourself — a bunch of captains may call a temporary ceasefire with each other and go get your ass together. I’ve found that the risk of getting on the bad end of an unfair trial is about the same in both places, though of course the Bilgewater one tends to be harder to come back from if carried out to its fullest. I consider myself a bit of an expert in these things.

T.F. makes a thoughtful sound. “To be fair I don’t think anyone had ever given him cause or inspiration for profanity like you did.”

“Aw. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He leans down and kisses the top of my head before he straightens for long enough to work his second foot free as well, standing there in just the sleek silky underpants he somehow seems to have an endless fresh supply of wherever we go. (My money’s on some sinister underground ring of lingerie-oriented tailors across south-eastern Valoran, for the record; when it comes to secret societies the Noxians just can’t help themselves.)

“I do my best. Hang on just one moment, I’ll be right back,” he says and ruffles my hair before he turns around, which I would complain about except that the view is, as previously mentioned, impeccable, and I’m sleepy enough to be magnanimous.

After meticulously folding his trousers and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, T.F. moves over to the table across the room and extinguishes the oil lamp, then whistles under his breath as he produces a card from somewhere — he does this, seemingly from thin air and no matter how little he’s wearing; I prefer not to speculate too much about how, exactly — and lets a little magic into it so it gives off a low glow, only enough to light his way the short walk back across the room, ‘cause in T.F.’s world the stubbing of toes and smacking of shins against unexpected furniture in the dark is somethin’ that happens to other people. That probably says some things about him I’m not ready to go puzzlin’ out at this time of night, and that he wouldn’t want to have anyone go puzzlin’ about too hard in the first place anyway.

When I hold out my hand for him in the dark he smiles and takes it, twining our fingers together, and I use the hold to tug him in and deposit him, in a neat controlled wrestler’s roll held close against me as I lay down, to his side of the bed. He laughs again at that, a surprised delighted sound that edges dangerously close to a giggle but hey, I ain’t no snitch, so who’s gonna testify against him, huh?

The card ends up on the far side of his pillow after the tumble, still giving off a glow, enough to illuminate the bed and lend the shadows around it some warmth. It makes the bed seem a small cozy island, the rest of the world rendered a not-unfriendly ocean of darkness around it.

T.F. looks at me like the world’s most contented castaway, bourgeoning crow’s feet punctuating his smile on either side and fingers still linked with mine. His hair is mussed from the meandering fall onto the bed. If I were only fractionally less about five seconds away from fallin’ asleep, my body might start to get ideas about it. Well, tomorrow is always another day.

With the back of my free hand I brush some of his hair away from his brow, and he cranes into it like a well-pleased cat. Even with the blankets tangled around our feet and the not-quite-right positions we’ve ended up in, having tumbled into place rather than settled ourselves with purpose, everything feels warm and loose and comfortable, like I could fall asleep like this even with the decidedly odd angle my arm is at.

As if sensing that the drowsiness is about to claim me for real, T.F. brings our linked hands up to his face so he can press his lips to my scarred knuckles before he lets go, then reaches to pull the covers over us, taking a moment to tuck the blanket around my shoulder properly before snuggling under it himself, hooking his leg over my thigh as he settles into place. I shift until we fit together, the familiarity of how to rest against each other just right comfortable like an old and well-loved piece of clothing. On a sigh he rests our foreheads together, craning forward the tiny amount needed to brush our mouths together and humming contentedly when I meet him there. It’s a slow kiss, but it lingers, a dry sweet press of lips like one last spark sending the day off down into the gently drifting murk of sleep that’s about to claim me for a few hours.

When it ends — I don’t think either of us was really the first to pull back, at some point the kiss simply, in the way of snowflakes on tongues, melted into something different and less defined with the warmth — there’s a moment when my eyes can still fight against slipping shut. It’s weird, the way you can look at someone every day for years and still not feel like you’ve had your fill. T.F.’s sharp narrow face, his high pointy little cheekbones and mouth still curved with a smile as he watches me back — there’s something to knowing I’m gonna see all that again tomorrow morning that all the damn money on Runeterra couldn’t get you. And take it from me, from what I’ve seen of the world there ain’t a lot of things in this life enough money won’t buy. Stumbling across one of them long before we even knew what we had, by a stroke of little more’n dumb fucking luck… sometimes it feels like the biggest heist we ever pulled.

“Hey, Tobias?” I say, brushing the tip of my nose against his as my eyelids finally give up both the battle and the war and slide closed.

“Hmmm?” he says, cheerfully drowsy as well.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I murmur, because I can’t think of any damn happier thing in the world to say to him.

He wraps his arms around me, his hand stroking meanderingly up and down the scar-crossed span of my back, fingers trailing over my skin with the perfect amount of firmness because he’s taken the time to learn exactly how much pressure it takes to make it comforting. As sleep starts pulling me under to calmer depths I tuck my head under his chin, so my face is pressed to the line of his throat and to his chest. He smells so nice, all warmly real and well-known like my own breathing.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees on a yawn, nuzzling at the top of my head and tightening his arms around me, just for a moment.

I've been trying to write stuff -- literally just anything, no matter how meandering and nonsensical -- to try to break out of a writer's block; it's not really working so far but at least I've got SOMETHING tangible to show for it at the end of the day, so, you know, uh... partial success I guess?? haha

The idea of T.F. having a judge somewhere out there who considers him the One True Nemesis of his career, J. Jonah Jameson style, even though T.F. barely even remembers his name, came from a wonderful conversation with @inversway, and the idea makes me laugh so hard every time I think about it.

ETA: Also put this on AO3, so I have somewhere to put these ficlets that isn't just tumblr! I'm grimly clinging on to this blue hellsite like a obstinate barnacle to the hull of the Titanic, but I do realize it's not the best place to archive uh anything lol

#tf x graves #twistedgraves #league of legends #my writing #been trying to live the philosophy 'it doesn't have to be good; it just has to be SOMETHING'#and from that I have at least learned that I don't necessarily think perfectionism was the main problem anyway lol #every little insight helps I suppose

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royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Kismet {12}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy

Words: 4.2k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: How are you guys liking the pacing of this story? I think this might be my slowest burn of all. 😬😬

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

When one thinks of a vacation, you think of beaches, sand, salty ocean water that you can see right through, a blazing sun that is a joy to be burned by, tropical drinks, lounging by the pool in a hammock with an endless supply of bathing suits. When one thinks of the quintessential French vacation, you could think of waking up the smell of flowers from the countryside and the ocean salt, the warm caress of the sun as you sip your French coffee, lounging on the beaches, touring the countryside by day, feasting on the best authentic French cuisine, sipping the best of wine country offered all the while soaking up culture and relaxation. In other words, live like the French.

Your vacation, though it started awkwardly, didn’t remain that way for too long. You and Henry had made it a mission to take relaxation and freedom to the max and, by doing so, you had created somewhat of a routine. Usually, either you or Henry would make breakfast and coffee then have it outside. After breakfast, you’d both lounge by the pool for an hour or two. That was before you found out he liked to work out first thing in the morning. Though you weren’t much for working out, you vowed to do it with him. which led to you having your coffee and then out for a run through the fields. He often went four miles out then four miles back, but when he realized you were not a runner, he cut it down to two and two. Even that was torture for you.

Then once you’d returned and showered, whoever came out first would make a simple breakfast that you’d have out back and then to the pool. After you’d take a drive, often going miles and miles checking out neighboring towns seeing sights. On each day, Henry always had something planned. One day it was a tour of a vineyard where you learned all about the winemaking process, helped harvest grapes, and even did the traditional squishing grapes with your feet. That was the day Henry had the brilliant idea to play up your ticklishness, which led to you falling in the barrel staining your white shorts ensemble red. He laughed his ass off to that. By the time you left the vineyard, both of your outfits were ruined, but you had plenty of pictures and a crate of the wine you’d made.

Another day it was sailing around the Mediterranean in a boat that Henry manned himself. You couldn’t help but watch in awe as he steered it like a pro and taught you the proper terms for things on the boat. When he’d found a good spot to drop anchor close to some rocks, you lounged on the hull soaking up the sun, then taking a dunk in the ocean when the heat became too much where you snorkeled around the reef. On a particular day, he took out a speedboat to St. Tropez for shopping and spa treatments that really had your entire body feeling like jello.

While he liked to spoil you with luxurious options, he also liked the rugged things too. He taught you how to fish and took you on multiple nature walks. While you enjoyed nature, you realized you didn’t like it as much as he did. According to him, he would choose to be out in nature as often as he possibly could. You were slowly beginning to enjoy it as much as he did. A few times, you took him to a club where you saw firsthand that he was a real party boy in another life. You liked the club nights because it showed you a whole other side of him. The side that was carefree, able to cut loose and not take himself seriously. It was a side you made a silent vow to bring out as often as you could.

To round out the experience, he did as the French and took advantage of France’s natural romance. There were plenty of romantic dinners at romantic restaurants that overlooked the ocean or the cliffs or the city lights and even a few at romantic vineyards with the view of the rolling hills and a sunset. The romance was not something hard to find, and it wasn’t always in going out. You spent plenty of nights in the villa lounging together with candlelight in the room and a gentle breeze wafting through the opened doors while watching something on tv together. While it was awkward before, you were becoming more and more comfortable around him.

This comfort also helped you feel closer to him and though you teased each other often, said sly things to one another, and even flirted shamelessly, nothing else of significance had happened. Henry didn’t make any moves to kiss you or cuddle or even hug you, really. The most he’d done was hold your hand at the most sporadic moments, for the shortest amount of time. It made no sense, and it drove you crazy because you could feel the attraction between you in everything you did. You could sense the desire in the air was strong, but everything remained lukewarm.

Though your comfort level rose, your insomnia never subsided. When Henry had gone to bed, you often remained up just writing music, journaling, or making things with the pictures you’d taken throughout the day. Your sleepless or low sleep nights gave you the chance to either reformulate your plan or think about your progress. A lot of times, thinking about the progress had you thinking about him, and if you did that, it was only a matter of time before your mind drifted to your want for him.

It was funny to you that before him, you could push affection, intimacy, and sex to the side and act like they were not even actual things, and it never bothered you or had any effect. Since Henry, it was damn near impossible. You thought about his touch at every turn, about his lips more times than you could count, and imagined him between your thighs at least once every other day.

One night it had gotten so bad from remembering him swimming in the pool in slow motion. Everything he did was in slow-mo like he was posing for some men’s porn magazine. That was the night you had to please yourself to thoughts of his wet lips, memories of his voice, and body as it moved through the water and muscles as he hoisted himself up out of the water with it dripping off of every inch of him. that night, it was the quickest you’d ever come. You wondered if he was struggling the way you were, but throughout the days, you saw no evidence he was, and that made you more insecure than you’d ever felt in your life.

~~~~~~~~~

-Nine Days Later-

The night was young—well, young for you. While Henry slept, you found yourself in the back yard with the breeze brushing against your bare skin. The glow of the moon beamed down on you, bathing you in its pearlescent illuminance, making you feel like a goddess of the night. It could have been the moon, the fact you were naked under it, or the 2nd bottle of wine you were on. It didn’t matter what it was; you felt good. The wine made your thoughts flow more freely, and where your thoughts went, your pen in your notebook mapped. You got your best writing done at three in the morning when you were naked and feeling wine-nice.

With your pen hooked on your bottom lip, you looked over the new lyrics you’d written for a song that Henry had inspired. The notebook was filled with at least ten more from the same muse. This song was the night’s second one. The first centered around your anxious thoughts about making the first move and how to do it in a way with little to no risk, and your worries of being in the friend zone the second was drastically different. This one focused on you admitting your attraction, the possibility you were falling for him, and your fear of him making you feel out of control. It was raw and real, the realest you’d been in a long time when it came to your feelings.

The words across the page were sensual and painted a clear picture of arousal and desire. As you hummed to yourself the way you imagined it flowing, you began replacing your hums with words. You quickly got lost in your process and zoomed through putting everything down on paper. Once your brain sparked off, it never stopped until it finished the mission.

“Aliya?”

You turned to the sound of Henry’s voice, forgetting your state of undress. Almost immediately, you gasped and grabbed the blanket holding it to your breasts.

“Shit.”

Henry was already turned away, his back facing you.

“Um--.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. God, I—shit.”

Henry snorted then slowly released a breath in a loud huff.

You rearranged the blanket then spoke, “You can turn around.”

Slowly and cautiously, Henry turned to you again. With your lips pressed together, you gave him your best apologetic face.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were asleep. I didn’t think you’d come out here,” you explained.

Again, Henry snorted then chuckled to himself as he nodded his head. You were so embarrassed that you covered your face.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered one last time.

“No need for sorries,” Henry began trying not to make eye contact. “It’s um—it’s okay.”

The awkwardness had returned.

“I didn’t see anything. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t believe him one bit but pushed any remaining awkwardness deep down and fought through it.

“Don’t you sleep at all?”

“Not really. Remember, insomniac.”

“I know you said that, but usually insomniacs can manage something,” Henry said.

“Um, well, since I was diagnosed, I can on occasion get three or four hours tops.

“Wow. We’ve been sharing this house for a little over a week, and I didn’t know that much.”

You smiled and took another sip from your glass. “You’re off the hook, you actually sleep, and it’s great.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since I was maybe eighteen,” you explained.

“So what do you do when you’re not sleeping?”

After finishing your glass, you moaned and leaned back in your chair. “Walk around, find a good spot to sit, write, sometimes go for a drive, online shop, work. Usually, it is mainly work,” you confessed.

Henry gave you a stern daddyish look. “Are you working now?”

You bit your bottom lip and scrunched your face. “Guilty but only sort of. I’m writing music. That’s not work for me. For me, it’s a component for my sanity.”

Henry nodded. “So you sit up all night naked writing music?”

The way he put it had you laughing out loud.

“Wow, pretty much. Fuck, when you sum it up like that, you make me sound like an insomniac exhibitionist.”

You laughed together for a few short moments. “Can’t they prescribe something?”

“They have, quite a few things actually. When I was eighteenish, I was on several sleeping pills. I was the guinea pig, and I must have tested at least twenty brands and formulas, but none of them seemed to work well with me. Of course, they had to monitor my intake to make sure I didn’t become addicted, but after a few years, I said, forget it let’s not try anything anymore. I just stopped taking the pills and sucked it up,” you clarified.

Henry looked impressed. “So you function on three hours of sleep?”

“Pretty much.”

He whistled then bowed his head. “Wow.”

“it’s not bad. Honestly, it might be a blessing in disguise. I get so much work done they wouldn’t believe.”

“You literally make money while others sleep,” Henry joked.

You softly snickered and nodded.

“Do they know why it started?”

He was asking all the right questions, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah, we know.” You really didn’t want to say anything else, and you had a mini internal fight. Groaning, you continued. “Trauma.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you rearranged your things on the table and picked off invisible lint off the blanket, all in an effort to not look at him. Though you were physically naked, you felt emotionally so as well. Taking a risk, you glanced at him and held his gaze. He was unreadable.

“Here,” Henry said, holding out a spoon to you.

“A spoon? What’s this for?”

Henry smiled and took a step toward you. “Close your eyes.”

You scoffed and wrinkled your nose before you closed your eyes and waited. You didn’t hear anything and wondered what he was doing.

“Uh—hello? Henry, are you there?”

The sound of Henry clearing his throat told you he was in a different location that was somewhat closer.

“I’m here. Open.”

When you did, you looked around expecting something but not sure just what. When your eyes landed on the ice cream before you, you smiled.

“For your massive sweet tooth.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. He’d learned a few things about that sweet tooth over the last week. This was him being cute about it.

“This Is my favorite flavor and brand. You don’t play, huh.”

“Of course not. I pay attention.”

“Thank you.”

Henry nodded, then pulled another spoon from behind him. “Cheers?”

You knocked your spoon against his and said the same thing. Henry sat beside you while you opened the ice cream, then both of you dug in. the first spoonful had you moaning so loud it echoed around you.

“That good?”

“Mmmm, so good, better than sex,” you joked.

“Then I am sorry, Ms. Taylor, you are having sex with all the wrong ones.”

The spoon paused at your lips as you quirked your eyebrow at him. Henry wasn’t backing down, though. He held your gaze almost like he was challenging you. Damn, you thought before you looked away first.

“So you write all your own songs?”

Nodding, you put another spoonful of ice-cream in your mouth. “All by myself.”

“Impressive. I know artists try, but not a lot do it alone. There will usually be a few co-writers,” Henry added.

You were a little surprised he knew that. “You’re right. More and more try to get on it for the added profits that being a writer brings in. for me, I do it for far more selfish reasons.”

Henry quirked his brow, silently asking you why.

“I need an outlet, something to get everything in my head out. I’m up for twenty to twenty-one hours a day, and I have a lot going on in there. So, I need to be able to get that out to start fresh the next do, that means---I write.”

The way Henry’s eyes rested on you made you feel like he had so much to say, but he was holding back with doing so.

“It’s good to have an outlet.”

“What’s yours?”

His goofy smile made a return, and you couldn't help but smile back.

“Don’t judge me, okay, but it’s video games.”

You smiled and raised your hands. “No judgment here, ever.”

“I like video games, Warcraft, Witcher, Call Of Duty, HALO. Anything bloody, I’m there for it. I also use exercise a lot. I have to work out, have to.”

“Have to?”

Henry took another spoonful of ice cream and sighed out. He looked like he was thinking about something, and you gave him the time needed.

“Yeah, when I was a kid, I was heavy--,” he began sighing. “I was a fat kid, and it meant I got teased and bullied a lot. My nickname was fat, Cavill.”

“Oh no, that’s horrible.”

“Yeah, plus I was at private school. Let’s just say—it was hard, really hard. I had some dark times, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t stick with me some even to this day.”

You bit your bottom lip, reached your hand out, and rested it on his knee. Your heart sank thinking about what he’d gone through. You knew how painful words could be, especially as a child. “I’m sorry. Kids can be such assholes.”

Henry snorted and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “They sure can.”

“Plus, I could tell working out is a joy for you. I’m not blind, and neither is the female population of the world and some of the male.”

Henry’s laugh was unexpected but welcomed all the same. You liked his laugh, and the more you heard it, the more it was becoming one of your favorite sounds.

“Seriously though, I’m sorry you went through that. I know it couldn’t have been easy to work through.”

He looked down at your hand that was still on his knee and nodded before he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned you’re close with your grandmother?”

Taking your hand back, you rearranged the blanket again and nodded. “I did. Yeah. She’s my mother’s mother, and she is—she’s my world.” With a soft smile on your lips, you quickly went through your fondest memories with her.

“I don’t think it’s healthy to depend on her as much as I do, but--.” You shrugged. “She helps me with so much, like being forgiving, being more open, being a better person in general. She gets me and doesn’t judge me or make me feel like something is wrong with me. In her eyes, I’m—Corrin, my middle name, and it’s great. All the pressure I constantly carry around is gone.”

Talking about how much your gramaw meant to you made you emotional, and the sting of tears in your eyes told you just how emotional you’d gotten.

“That’s great to have at least one person in your life that can do that for you. you’re lucky.”

“Yes, ha, she’s—uh, she’s the reason I’m here,” you confessed. Henry looked very interested to know what you meant.

“How so?”

“She uh, she just reminded me of a few things and pointed some other things out to me,” you said, giving him the CliffsNotes version. You could tell it wasn’t going to cut it, though, so you continued. “She pretty much made me think from a different perspective, the one that I was desperately trying to ignore.”

Henry still looked interested, but he nodded. “I have to thank her because I’m glad she changed your mind.”

You studied him for a little while as you put another spoonful into your mouth. “Are you?”

Henry didn’t look away or give way to any emotion on his face. He just nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you’re here.”

You didn’t see any indication that he was lying or stretching the truth. You did notice that the pull between you was still there. Henry was the first to look away this time, and the two of you continued to share the half-gallon container of ice cream while chatting. He told you more about his private school days and painted a clearer image of what he was like as a boy, and the image you got was absolute adorableness and tenacity.

By the time you both walked back inside, two hours had passed, and the beginning of the sunrise was peeking out behind the mountains. You stood in the long hall that separated your room from his clutching the sheet wrapped around you and your notebook.

“So, in the morning—or a few hours we’ll catch a flight out,” Henry confirmed.

“Still won’t tell me where to?”

Henry smiled, rubbed the back of his neck, and shook his head. “You don’t like surprises, do you? This is the fifth time you’re trying to pry it out of me.”

You pinched your lips then groaned. “No, no. It’s not that I don’t like surprises. I love surprises—well, good ones. I just like to know every detail. I like--.”

“Being in control,” Henry finished, hitting the nail right on the head. You knew it was the loss of control that was making you antsy.

You closed your eyes and slowly breathed out.

“Yes. I guess I might have a control problem.”

Henry looked very amused. “Might?”

The two of you laughed together, and you couldn’t believe the call out.

“Shut up.”

“It’s okay. I get it. I like control too, a whole lot, and I don’t usually like when control is taken from me, but I’ve gotten better with it. Now, I won’t die if my control is taken. Then—it felt like it.”

You nodded at yet another thing you had in common. It was becoming more than you could count on your fingers.

“Good for you, but I—I might die.”

Henry laughed again, this time not with you, at you.

“I’m going to make you a promise. By the end of this vacation, you will be better at giving me control,” Henry said, his voice so deep and commanding that your spine tingled. When the tingling traveled around to your gut and moved downward, you clutched the sheet tighter.

“Oh, will I?”

He smirked; it was a cocky one. “Yes, you will. I don’t break promises. Never have.”

Your eyes locked, and that tingling intensified, making your lady parts beg for some attention. He was downright captivating, and it was so hard staying on your side of the hall.

“All you have to know is that I won’t abuse my control. You can trust that. You can trust me.”

You almost made the yikes face hearing the T-word. You knew he remembered you saying that trust was a tricky thing for you, and you also knew this was probably a test. You were in between a rock and a hard place. After sighing out, you spoke.

“Okay.”

“But, you do have to say these five words, though,” Henry said with a smirk.

“What?”

“I—relinquish—control—to—you.”

With every word, his voice got deeper and deeper, his eyes more and more focused on you. It was so easy to get lost in them, and he must have known it.

“Uh—no. I can’t say that.”

“Sure you can. I know it’s not easy, but I promise you will not regret it.”

Your nose flared, heart raced, mouth went dry, all points of your anxiety. You hated feeling backed in a corner, and you hated giving away your control even more.

“Will you relinquish control to me?”

With a grin, he spoke, “I will.”

“When?”

“One day,” Henry said, that grin still on his face.

Of course he’d say that you thought. “How about, I will try,” you appeased.

“Nope. Not good enough. I want it all, Aliya.”

You groaned and ruffled your curls, still clutching the sheet with one hand. He was not going to let up.

“God, Henry.”

He didn’t say anything, just waited. He didn’t even look pressed like he was worried you’d say no. He looked confident, commanding, and in complete control, and it called to you. There had never been any other man who you’d ever thought about giving control to. None of them felt like him. He felt different.

“I,” Henry perked up but kept his eyes firmly on yours. another thing you loved about him. “Relinquish—control,” you paused again, feeling the full weight of the words you were going to release. You weren’t just saying that you were giving him control to make the decisions. You were giving him control, period. That was when the panic picked up. “Control to,” you rolled your eyes then hissed. “You.”

The silence stretched, but the longer it went on, the less anxious you felt. Yeah, there was some residual panic lingering, but the look in his eyes only comforted you.

“Thank you. I know how hard that was for you,” Henry softly said.

You looked down and took a shaky breath. “You have no idea.” When you looked back at him, he was still staring at you. “Okay. Well, good night, Henry.”

“Good night, Aliya.”

A visible shiver ran through you, but you ignored it and turned around to walk to your bedroom door. After a few steps, you stopped and smiled as an idea formed. Instead of walking forward, you turned around and walked back to him. Once close enough, you tiptoed, threaded your fingers into his hair at the nape of his neck, then pulled his head down to yours. It was then you pressed your lips to his.

From the second your lips touched, it felt like you’d been standing out in the rain and gotten hit but a lightning bolt. Your moan was loud, and once it slipped out, Henry grabbed you, pulled you flush against him, and held you there. The hand on your hip squeezed while his right hand sneaked around your back to press his palm against your tailbone. That was when you realized you wanted more—a lot more. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, then nibbled, sinking your nails into his curls. You were second away from dropping the sheet, so you pulled back, grasping to the fraying threads of your self-control. Henry’s eyes were still closed, giving you a few extra seconds to admire his beauty. He still had the same effect as the first time he’d kissed you.

“Good night, Henry,” you said again, pecking his lips once more before walking away again.

Though you’d given relinquished control, you just took a little of it back. It felt good.

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

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black ofc #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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