Hi everyone! For the past several months, I've been working on a long form fanfic (The Wildflower), inspired by both Close My Eyes (1991) and Snow Cake (2006). I absolutely love both films, so I decided to write a fanfic where both of my favourite Alan Rickman characters - Sinclair Bryant and Alex Hughes - could be featured in.
I wasn't sure about posting individual chapters here (considering I'm quite a slow writer lol), so I've decided to create a direct link to my fic on AO3. Please bear in mind it's still a work in progress, and I'll try my best to update it as much as I can.
If you're interested in reading what I've wrote so far, please feel free to check it out below:
➡️ The Wildflower on AO3 ⬅️
Due to scrapping scandal that took place earlier this year (unfortunately my works fell victim to the dataset that was captured), only registered accounts can access the fic. I'll try to post each chapter individually soon. Hope you'll like what I've been working on🎀
P.S. these GIFs by @smilingformoney are incredible by the way 🩵
quarterly reminder that if i reblog something ai-generated it is 110% and always an accident and for the love of god please tell me so i can delete it from my blog
Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister x f!Reader || A Promise
Warning: fluff, smut, fingering
For: @jacks-valentine
˚₊⊹ masterlist: Gift ✧ Tumblr ˚ | Ao3 ₊⊹
word count: 2.3k
"Mein Liebling?"
Karl Hoffmeister waited with a brooding nervousness as your eyes discovered the small box in his palm. His other hand was still hovering over the small of your back, but as you turned to face him, he let it drop to his side. He didn't want to startle you, but had he not sneaked up behind you with the box, you would've seen it, and the surprise would have been less.
He took a step back, clearing his throat and straightening his back. Karl's shoulders rolled slightly to reassert his confidence as he presented the small box in his palm. His eyes lingered on it first, then up at you, taking in your reaction one by one. The startled yelp as he rested his large hand on your back, the ease of your chest as you discovered it was him, and now the surprise as you spotted the box. It was still closed, but at first glance, you could tell it was a jewellery one. The outside was metallic, and you could anticipate the cool of its material. It was finely engraved with coiling lines that formed flowery patterns alongside its rim. It bore a golden colour that melted into the green pigment used to highlight those spiralling carvings. One look had been enough to tell it was costly, whatever it was, for if the box was quite so exquisite, whatever was within couldn't be less than a match.
"Forgive me. I didn't mean to startle you." Karl broke the silence with his low, gravelly voice. It penetrated the silence with a whisper, his eyes soft and patient, as he realised you were still taken aback. "I found no better way to approach you about it, mein Liebling, so you must forgive me."
There was a small pause as Karl cleared his throat. His hand kept the box clutched between his larger fingers, making the item seem smaller than it was. His hands had that 'gift', you could say, of making anything that was between them seem all the more tiny and fragile than reality would have it. As his eyes turned to the box, he relaxed his palm. How strange that he hadn't even realised how tightly he was clutching the box up until now. What a curious thing, that he felt nervous when he already knew that any gift you'd welcome with utmost gratitude. And still, each time he harboured the same apprehension, the same fear that your reaction would change. That you wouldn't find his gift to measure up to what you deserved. And that, perhaps, he could understand. A gorgeous lady like yourself deserved the best, and he could only try to find something worthy of you. But what did he know? All jewellery and gifts would fail to be deserving of your gentle neck and shoulders, your delicate fingers and wrists, or the soft soothing lobes of your ears.
"I took the liberty to procure a little something for you. Ah, please, allow me to finish." He stooped to you just as you opened your mouth to scold him for once again spending his fortunes on you. You knew Karl could afford it, and certainly it was always a joy when he spoiled you with gifts. But at the same time, it only felt natural to deny him at first, to let him know that your affections for him didn't rely solely on material things. But so often had you given him this speech that Karl interrupted it before it could spring from your lips.
Karl's own lips curled into a smile as he saw you pause, guessing that he indeed anticipated the timing of your soft complaints. His free hand reached over for yours, his large palm once again contrasting yours and making it seem all the more frail. In comparison, your hand was just like the jewellery box, cradled by his firm palms. How curious it was, seeing it now, that everything which rested in Karl's palms earned at once this noble light. Seeing your own hand and the jewellery box in his palms made you feel all the more special, and that before he could let any word leave his lips.
He guided your hand closer, and with the gentleness only you knew him capable of, he placed the box in your palm, closing it around it. The initial feeling was as you had guessed: the cool metallic material gave you that contrast you had expected, but it wasn't as cool as you had guessed, for Karl's own palm had warmed it as it clutched it until now. So the sensation, cool at first, was replaced by the comforting temperature of Karl's palm, which still lingered on the box.
"It makes me pleased, a great deal, to get you gifts, mein Liebling. There are few things I can do to guarantee your happiness with me, and among them... this would be one." He whispered in his gravelly tone, releasing your hands and letting his arms move behind his back as you glanced at him, and then at the box. "Forgive me for my brash words, but I am no fool. I know your sacrifice is great, and I have no desire to leave it unrepaid."
This wasn't the first time Karl Hoffmeister had hinted at it.
The fact that he felt his age, greater than yours by a handful of years, was something that was in the way of your affection, and that your decision to marry him had been a sacrifice. No matter how many times you assured him his age was not an inconvenience, his brow remained furrowed. And Karl was lost in his own mind for a few minutes. He'd thank you and reward your patience with a kiss.
"Karl, please. I don't need expensive gifts..."
"Would it harm you to accept them for my own peace of mind?" His voice grew a little stern, above the whisper. "Please, mein Liebling."
You sighed. It wasn't out of hesitation that you did, but merely because you knew what it meant. No matter how many times you'd reassure Karl, he would never deep down believe he was worthy of it.
That ached.
But for his sake, you let it go.
"I am not refusing your generosity, Karl. I don't want you to think my love for you relies on gifts. That's all."
"Then, could you open it?"
You nodded.
Your palms uncovered the lid of the small box, pushing it back. It fell back with ease, revealing the interior. A royal green cushioning shielded the inside, the tint akin to the outer pigmentation. It served as the resting place of a necklace. The item was clearly worked on command, ordered by Karl himself from a jeweller. It was done for your fine neck to hug it and adorn it rightfully so. The chain was delicate, light, and finely smelted, and the pendant was done to hold a precious gem which you had assumed to be an emerald, judging by the green theme of the box. Without a doubt, it had been Karl's own design.
"May I?"
You heard Karl after a few moments as you marvelled at the gift. Your answer came shortly, almost as a giggle, amused that he felt he had to even ask, "Of course you may."
Karl lifted the necklace tenderly, observing it too. He saw it before, as it was shaped by the jeweller. And even on his way to you, he repeatedly checked on it, trying not to harbour second thoughts. Was it worthy of you? Nothing was, Karl would repeat to himself, and yet it didn't hurt to try.
So he guided you to the mirror in your bedroom, coming up behind you and tying the necklace around your neck, clasping it carefully and watching how it rested on your skin. It was stunning to him, but the judge had to be your eyes, so he waited for you to get a good look at your reflection in the mirror. He remained stoic behind you, firm, with his back straight. Karl preserved his composed attitude, despite the softness he would allow only you to see.
"I think it's wonderful, Karl. Every time you impress me more and more..."
Karl exhaled the breath he had been holding, relaxing his chest.
"I think my favourite part about it is knowing that I plague your mind even when I am not aware of it." You teased, reaching behind yourself and taking his arms, guiding them to wrap around your waist as you watched your reflection in the mirror. His head came down, and he placed a soft kiss on your bare shoulder, his moustache tickling a chuckle out of you. "Knowing I must be on your mind even when you work, or when you eat, or right before you sleep..."
"Mein Liebling, you should say better that you never leave my mind..."
"That's an enticing thought..."
Karl's arms squeezed tighter around your waist, mindful not to hurt you. He pulled you gently into his chest, until your back was snug against it as his lips continued to place soft, reverent kisses across your bare shoulder. He had never felt more glad to have caught you before bedtime. You were dressed in only a nightgown. It conveniently served him well, giving him the access he needed. His right hand slid lower, from your waist to your stomach. Karl's palm pressed on it, his fingers splayed over the fabric, warmth radiating beneath.
Then he let his hand trail lower, to the side of your thigh. His finger began kneading the skin rhythmically, possessive, firm and controlled but not forcing you.
"Here, Herr Hoffmeister?"
"Here, mein Liebling... Here I can see it all better."
Karl's hand rode up, underneath your nightgown, cupping your womanhood firmly. His face pressed into your shoulder as he grunted at the sudden warmth of your privates against his skin, and his other arm coiled tighter around your waist.
"You must think I am careless... with no manners..."
"Nein," you gasped, your hand reaching below and gripping his wrist as he began to work his index and ring finger lazily against your heat. "Not at all, Herr Hoffmeister..."
"Then what do you think of me?"
"I... don't think at the moment..."
Karl laughed, a resonant sound that came from his chest as he continued to plaster kisses alongside your shoulder. From your right one to the left, working against the column of your neck to adorn it too with the testament of his affection. Each kiss came at the price of his moustache grazing against your skin and making you shudder and giggle, shifting in his arm as he tightened the embrace he had on you. His fingers, at first lazy, began to settle for a better pace, quicker, yet calculated and rhythmic, finding the sensitive bud and teasing it until he felt a soft jerk of your hips against his own, your womanhood pressed into his palm.
"Ahh... mein Liebling... You enjoy this gift more than the necklace?"
"Herr-"
"Hush, no more of that." He whispered against your ear, "Karl... It is Karl that I wish to hear, dearest Y/N."
His fingers didn't cease working. The pace followed the impatient movement of your hips as your body grew needier by the moment. Each stroke of his fingers meant to coax the pleasure out, to guide you to let go and rely on him to make you feel good.
"Karl, my legs...-"
"I have you..."
Your legs, indeed weak from feeling the nearing of your orgasm, were beginning to give out. But Karl kept you up with ease, his arm holding you against him, his palm cupping your cunt as his fingers continued their work, bringing you closer and closer, having you rely solely on his support to keep you standing. You could see it vaguely in the mirror when your eyes would open, for they were mostly closed from the overwhelming waves of pleasure and the shame of the act. But Karl? He had his eyes open and locked onto the sight before him, keeping up his work until he saw your tense body give way to your orgasm.
"Karl," you called, your voice weak and needy, breathless as you tried to clutch tighter onto him.
"So well, you are doing so well, mein Liebling..."
He held you up and snug against his chest as your body jerked and shuddered with your orgasm, grunting against your ear from the sheer rawness of delight he felt seeing you come undone against him, wearing his necklace, in the nightgown he bought for you, in his home, due to his hands. You were his, undeniably and undespitably his. And no matter how many times he did this, each time he discovered in awe just how much he enjoyed being reminded that you were his.
As you came down from the highs of your climax, Karl kept his hold on you, only softly removing his hand from underneath your nightgown to wrap around his other, around your waist. He kept you against him for a moment longer, but suspecting the weakness of your legs, he guided you over to your bed and helped you down on it.
Karl hovered over you. He had a look that betrayed his pleasure, despite that stoic appearance. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving your side. You frowned and tried to push yourself up, but he stopped you with a laugh.
"Nein... Stay, Schatz... I will change and come to join you..."
When you tried to protest that you should come up and help him, he once again interrupted you with an amused look that made the skin around his eyes wrinkle with comfort. "I cannot make you wait long, I promise. I offered you a gift tonight; what man would I be to run from you now?"
@spectrestrings thank you, thank you, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!!! ❤️
I absolutely LOVE this, especially how you wrote the sensual side of Karl's personality. I really appreciate the care you took to write this, thank you so much ❤️
Please go support @spectrestrings and read their works, everyone!
Remember not to give a shit and write cringy fanfiction and make bad art and wear weird clothes and dance badly to your favorite song never stop doing these creative things that make you happy.
Recently, I've decided it's time I head back to school for my third qualification. After completing my registration, I wanted to treat myself to something nice, so I ordered an Iced Matcha Milktart Latte from my local coffee. shop.
I was curious to try this particular fusion drink, as it's inspired by the common flavours of a popular South African pudding (milktart), and the good old Japanese ceremonial-grade tea.
Like the little message says on the cup, "Be Lekker!", which translates to "Be Awesome!"
Young people don’t know when I joined this website a decade and a half ago we used to have to walk to the post button and back and it was uphill both ways
Everyone in the notes being like oh yeah the reblog button used to be at the top of the post and you had to scroll back to the top I forgot about that I was just shit posting 😭 how could I forget after my first reblog of Colors of the sky
fuck it. be creative even if you never really *make* anything. write out plot synopses of stories and then move on. design OCs you'll never use. make mood boards and concept art and don't do anything with them. life's too short to forget everything that inspired you and creation doesn't have to be "complete" to be worth the time you put into it.
I've traveled oceans of time to find you... @jacks-valentine - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
