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rockinlibrarian · 1 month

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Post-Umbrella Academy S4 Reaction Part 3: Viktory!...ish (spoilers under cut)

If you're just joining me, Part 1 was a reaction to FANDOM'S reaction; Part 2 was a snippet of fix-it that poured out of me yesterday. Now to get into the nitty-gritty.

Let's start off the show-specific commentary with something, to counteract the online vitriol, I have the most genuinely positive feelings about (though also a few definite opinions on how it could have been improved): VIKTOR. VIKTOR MY BABY whom I have written 35,584 words from the point of view of (and almost as many ABOUT him from other povs) since last we saw him. I think I've mentioned in tags or something the weird possessive feeling I got just seeing him in trailer footage-- the same thing happened when season 3 of Legion came out and I saw the Loudermilks again. There's something about spending a lot of time in a character's head that makes me weirdly emotional about them after that.

Five is my favorite character from an objective what-an-absurdly-interesting-character standpoint, but Viktor has always been the character I've connected to most emotionally. I, too, have spent my life convinced I'm Nobody but desperately longing to be SOMEBODY. And he had the tragic arc I've been morbidly obsessed with since Lester Nygaard-- the doormat who finally stands up for themselves but it all keeps going horribly wrong.

He finally speaks up, tells his story to the world-- and it only further alienates him from his already-troubled family, and the one guy he most hoped WOULD read it immediately shelved it and never touched it again. (At least, in a possible future, it became an anchor and lifeline for Five. But I'm not sure Viktor ever canonically found out about that. All Five told him was that it was "ballsy," which is better than anything anyone else ever told him about it, but not about how he carried it everywhere he went for 40-some years and used it to keep all his most important home-going equations)

He finally gains the power he always longed for, but instinctively lashes out violently with it at every reveal of betrayal from people he trusted (and only one of those people probably deserved it).

He finally gets first chair, is the most extraordinary violinist the world has ever seen, and then-- well-- he blows up the moon.

Again and again, he ends up triggering apocalypses every time he steps out, takes a stand. He saves a little kid's life, and THAT action ends up eating up the entire universe.

He can't catch a break. All he wanted was to be a hero like his siblings, and it KEEPS. GOING. WRONG.

I am OBSESSED with this. I'm obsessed with this kid who cried when his brothers stepped on ants unwittingly destroying all life as we know it over and over again. I need him to break this cycle, I need him to prove that he CAN be powerful AND have good results, I need to see it as a fellow struggling-to-get-out-of-her-self-esteem-pit doormat who only wants to do GOOD, and I ache for him when he doesn't. But in a good way. Because it's fiction and I savor the angst.

Which brings us up to Season Four, under the cut.

So, six years have passed since Viktor got off mood suppressants, tasted power, came out as trans, and got asked by the brother who used to completely ignore him and once locked him in a sound-proof cell to serve as Best Man at his wedding. He's been living a completely new life! We saw in the trailers that he's a bartender, but then you get his location establishing shot and it turns out it's HIS BAR. HIS NAME IS OVER THE DOOR.

Reader, I reacted vocally, out loud, to this reveal. HE built and runs this genuinely nice bar all by himself! Look how WELL he is doing for himself! Okay, he can't maintain a relationship for the life of him (but that's okay, it's just he hasn't realized that Five is his Soulmate SORRY I WILL PROBABLY DO IT AGAIN) (also, I'm very tickled that his last girlfriend was named Amy. I'm flattered, really), but otherwise he has built a darn nice life for himself. (It gives me the same bittersweet feeling as this one Fiktor fic--there's your warning, don't like don't read-- by @sissytobitch10seconds, "Completely Alone," in which Viktor runs off to become a farmer without telling anyone. Sure, he's isolated himself from the family he once longed to feel a part of, and that's a little sad, but he's working well and quietly, and living fully and in peace, and I love that for him!)

And from here on out, you can just see how far he's come-- the confidence in the way he talks to the siblings he used to be in awe of! The way he doesn't hesitate to share his ideas-- and the way the others actually listen to his ideas now!

And then the majority of the season for him becomes coolly (and...sometimes not so coolly-- but much more in CONTROL than he was six years ago) standing up to the father who belittled, sedated, and gaslit him (or, a variation of said father, at least), and being respected back.

It was just so SATISFYING.

One little victory-- um, viktory?-- that stood out for me was when he had the idea to infiltrate a militia of cultists by Sharpie-ing an umbrella tattoo on his wrist. The symbolism of this action that had once been a sort of pathetic and misguided attempt at fitting in, he was now reclaiming it for purposes of pretending to fit in, a more important goal forefront in his mind-- it was a little thing but it touched my heart, how he was like, "Oh *I* know what to do! I used to do this all the time!" but this time it actually helped him be a hero.

And then the biggest full-circle moment: he insisted on trying to talk Ben down, to bring him back from the edge of blowing and destroying the world-- just like Ben had done for him at the end of season 2.

If only it had worked.

Anyway, I now direct you to the Venn diagram I reblogged the other day: I liked Viktor's arc: it made me really happy, in fact. It GENERALLY made in-universe sense. It could do with some major improvements as a piece of narrative storytelling, though, and that comes back to the overarching theme of Viktor I discussed before we got to the season 4 stuff.

In the first three seasons, the concept that he WAS the apocalypse was always hanging over his arc, even as he gained control of his powers and emotions and gained confidence in his place in the family. I would not have been happy if he really WAS cursed to always bring about destruction, but I want to see him explicitly break this curse, onscreen. But a lot of his personal growth happened off screen, between seasons-- which is generally a good thing, I'm so happy he's been doing so well-- but I feel like we should have at least acknowledged that the Curse of Being the Apocalypse was still hanging over his head as the season began, and THEN SHOWN him deliberately turning that around, AND THEN HE SHOULD HAVE SUCCEEDED.

Him trying to reach Ben was a start. It was symbolic and circular. But it ultimately didn't work, so bleh. Someone on the Elliott's House Discord suggested that what SHOULD have happened was that Viktor succeeded in removing all the Marigold in the world--from Ben, from his other siblings, from everywhere-- and taking it into himself (an action his long-desired powers had been shown to be capable of) , and then sacrificed himself into the Cleanse to save everyone else. BINGO, full-circle, the Apocalypse becomes the cure, the wannabe superhero becomes the ultimate hero. It's a bummer to have a hero die, but compared to what actually happened in show, this would have been one glorious, well-built-toward death, as opposed to a lot of completely hopeless, emotionally ill-timed deaths.

That would have been narratively a lot more satisfying. I would have accepted the death of my blorbo--sadly, but with acceptance-- if it had been so perfectly heroic in this way.

But I'll discuss the way the show actually ended-- which was, for me, the only serious bummer letdown of the season-- in a separate post.

Two more things about Viktor in season 4, before I go, though:

I appreciated that they at least acknowledged his violin-playing. I could not believe that a professional musician would utterly and completely turn his back on music, and they basically let it drop entirely in seasons 2 and 3. It wasn't just a plot device, it was his vocation, dangit! So when Abigail mentions it to him, and he says it's "really more of a love/hate thing," that makes it all make a little more SENSE. Yeah, sure, he's got QUITE a bit of trauma tied up in the violin now, I guess I'll accept that as an excuse for not getting back into it. I would have made a different choice for him, but at least you gave me a REASON, show, so thanks for that.

Secondly, look, I'm not so naive and deluded to believe that my warped, pseudo-incestuous ship would ever be canon, but Viktor and Five barely said a WORD to each other all season, and I wanted just ONE good one-on-one interaction between them, like we've had every other season-- just ONE MOMENT of the childhood besties/apocalyptic foils-for-each-other being more than distant random family passing like ships in the night. They SHOULD have stuck together at the end of Season 3, to be completely honest-- I did slip in a meaningful explanation for why they didn't in that fix-it scene yesterday-- but I'd settle for just...anything at all!...when they reunited. Ah well.

I was honestly just so happy that Viktor had grown so much, that I'm willing to accept a LOT of things-I'd-rather-have-happened not happening.

And that's where I'll leave this post. I'll make a few more-- at least one whole post about the end (going from my favorite part of the season to my LEAST favorite part of the season-- but I have a lot to say about it that is not just emotional ranting!), one post about the infamous love triangle (which I am not opposed to despite it going against my own ships, and I'll have lots to say about that, too), and at least one post of miscellaneous observations, if any of those topics don't jump out at me and demand I give them their own post as well.

#the umbrella academy #viktor hargreeves

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missamyrisa2 · 2 years

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Hey there~ ^^ I was never much into tickle writings or fictions until I came across yours a few years back. Your teasy style and attention to detail really drew me in and kept me wanting more. It also further inspired me to take up the practice myself; and needless to say I've been having an absolute blast writing ticklish fantasies. So thank you for the influence! ❤ With that said, could you write a set up where I'm hogtied and you both tickle my feet as well as tease me with yours? 👀

Hiii~<33 I am soo flattered that my words could have such an effect, especially because the one and only thing I ever wanted to do with my writings was to spread tummy tingles and silly giggles ~<3

But alsoo~ I don't do well with flattery ~ and my dear, inspiring such a hot blush in my cheeks comes with quite a toll. You'll certainly see my expression fluctuate from flattered to wicked tickly intent, the little knowing smirk curling on my purpley lips and my eyes alight with feathery insight ~ and it's far too late for subterfuge, my wiggly fingers have already ensnared your ankle as you try to squirm away. "What do we have here? It's a silly girl with a ticklish foot~" I pluck away your footwear with a gentle sneer, tossing it aside and ceremoniously wriggling my fingers for you before raking them down the sole. "Hmmm. Ticklish foot!" I muse, making kissy faces at your reactions. "Ahh, another cute footsy" I ensnare your other leg, keeping both wrapped around my arm over my lap. Another shoe goes flying and nails are raking under your toes. I reach back to tease behind your knee for good measure too. "Coochie coooo. Does that tickle? Are you a ticklish little flatterer? You silly gigglebug. I'm gonna make you melt, oh yesss I am. Silly girl. Listen to you squeak! Is it just so bad under your toes? Hmmm? How about this inner curve. Yeah? How much does it tiiickle? On a scale from one to ten. Tell me, tell me how much it tickles~" I taunt and coo, mimicking your ticklish sounds as I wear you down. "Ticklish ticklish ticklish? Is that what you're saying? You're ticklish! Why, I never would have guessed!"

With your resistance thoroughly diminished, I rise up and playfully start tickling your sides. "Gotta work the giggles out here too. You need to be nice and exhausted if we're gonna get to the main event. Let it all out now, all those giggles for me. Oooh, I'm good at tickling? Flattery just gets you more tickles!" I taunt, squeezing and massaging at your midsection. I move up and start gliding my nails along your ribs briskly, working up to flutter in your underarms until you are a giggle goo pile under me. "There we go, just breathe now. Let Amy take care of you, sweet girl." With a jingle and a shuffle you hear me breaking out my equipment for the next round. I position your legs to point skyward, playfully stroking my fingers down your rump and thighs. "Don't try to fight me now, if you would juuust cooperate~ ahh" I lock your feet together with padded cuffs, then turn and start bringing your arms back, lovingly running my nail tips over your inner elbows. "Pretty tickly girl, you're in soo much trouble, you know that? There's no escape for you now. You're allll mine~". With a snap, I have your wrists together. I dangle the metal chain in front of you, the shiny links are all heart-shaped, and start humming happily as I bind your ends together completing my work.

I let you wiggle in your hogtie for a bit, feeling the helplessness. I pace around your bound form like a cat, pausing to rest my dark purple painted toes right by your face. “Y’know, my toes are ticklish too. Especially right under the bottoms, like that little valley? Just the tiniest touch, the tiniest touch, will make me scream like crazy. I want you to think about that my gigglebug, think about that while you writhe and squirm in my little heart-shaped web, think about it while I tickle you to bits. You could make it all stop if you could just get a single solitary finger under my toes~” I murmur, leaning over to start scratching at your helpless feet. “Think about it, think about now.” I giggle, dancing my nails over every wrinkle on your sole, testing their shape and curve, probing for reactions. “Oooh good spot there. You still thinking about it? Why, I can wriggle my lil finger just back and forth, back and forth on this line and you melt with giggles don’t you? Does it tickle so much? Tell me all about it. Tell me about your ticklish feet.” I make my toes wiggle before you, occasionally letting them brush your cheek even as I stand domineering over your ticklish body. “How often do fantasize about me tickling your feet?” My fingers earnestly skitter up the insides of your feet while I question and chat away, moving up to grasp your big toes playfully. “When do you try to tickle yourself? Because you’re such a tickle bug. You can’t help it, can you? Touching these cute little toes. Naughty thing. I know a self tickler when I see one. I think a naughty ticklish thing like you needs teases. Oh yes. Plenty of teases.”

I give my fingers a rest and pick up a bottle of oil, showing it to you as I kneel down. “Yes, yes. Definitely this.” I hold my hand out in front of your giggly face and let the oil drip out slowly, showing you with agonizing slowness how I test it in my palm, rubbing it slowly with girlish excited squeaks. “Mmmhmm. Mmmh. Oily oily tickles for you.” I bounce up and start merrily rubbing your feet, massaging in the slippery oil. With loving strokes I make your ticklish skin so shiny over your helplessly wriggling bound body. “My, my, look at how pretty these feet are. And your toes, so wiggly~ how much do you love it when I tickle these toes? Tell me know. Let’s hear it giggle girl. And call me mama too, come on ~ call me your tickle mommy~” I snicker and laugh at my own silliness, repositioning to make sure my polished toes and feet are wiggling right by your face, before moving to let them poke and caress your giggly sides. “And now, we polish. Brusha brusha booooo~” I coo out, equipping my palms with nubbly scrubby brushes. The soft tips work their magic over your slick shiny soles, excitedly rubbing up and down, back and forth, and digging in under your toes too. “Laugh it all out now. Laughter is so good for the soul. Esepcially ticklish laughter. I think I read a book about that. Chicken soup for the ticklish ticklee? The art of tickle war? Tickle, love, tickle? I dunno. I’m just gabbing now. How about those toe kisses? Those toe kisses?” I’m leaning in, letting you feel the hardness of my teeth touching on the pillow surface of your toe before laying a muah on each one. I kiss down the line, giving each wiggly ticklish toe its time as my thumbs continue to rub lovingly on each sole.

With you nice and wiggly giggly gaspy and weak, I plop myself down and start taunting you again with my toes, holding them close to your face. “Now then, some kisses for your tickly Amy Amy?”

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1tad0ri · 4 years

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OKAY hey girl lemme j say how invested in this blog i am going to be . okay . so uh yuuji being the horny shit he is and texting you late at night to come to his room n you barely get through the door b4 he’s grabbing at you n telling you how much he missed your body n how he was *thinking* of you before n j URGH lemme get dat pls 🤲🤲

warning: body worship, eating out

itadori yuuji x fem!reader

AHDHSJJS FIRST OF ALL THANK YOUUU that’s so sweet!!! <3 second of all, girl i gotchu

“for fuck’s sake.” the shuffle of your sneakers along the corridor was almost too loud in the otherwise quiet space, phone screen lit up and reflecting back at you as you scrolled through the text messages that had gotten you into this situation in the first place.

one peaceful night was what you wanted. one goddamn full night’s rest. oh... but it was so hard to ignore him, no matter what time he texted you.

the amount of times you wanted to pretend to be asleep was outshone by the fact that you always wanted to talk to yuuji. eccentric and playful, he hit all the points on your ‘boyfriend checklist.’

arriving in front of his door, you sighed, clicking your phone screen off and stuffing the device into your back pocket—you hoped that he hadn’t asked you to come over to play uno at 2 a.m. again. the “can you please come over?” text had been fairly ominous, but truthfully you wouldn’t mind just cuddling up to him and falling asleep if he wanted.

you twisted the doorknob—he always left his room unlocked like a dummy (a cute dummy) and by this point you knew to spare yourself the knocking, knowing a reply of “it’s open!” would just reach you from inside.

the door creaked open under a single push and you stepped inside the familiar room, the movement already rehearsed in your mind during the walk from your dorm over to his.

“yuuji, what do you-”

heavy lips against the corner of your mouth interrupted you when someone pulled you into their chest—they’d missed your own lips in their haste but your mouth fell open in shock all the same, you squeaking as you stumbled into their arms, trying to find something to grab ahold of. your hands found warm shoulders to dig into as your regained your balance and you barely registered the click of the door shut behind you.

steady now, you untangled yourself from the person, pulling back to find yuuji staring back at you—of course it was him, this was his room after all.

he was already diving back into your lips before you could speak, and you know what? you let him. his mouth was hot when it pressed to yours and when his hand on your back pushed your waist closer to him and you felt the nudge of something hard against your leg, you decided he could do whatever he wanted to you at that point.

your arms travelled up from his shoulders to loop around his neck properly and he held you against him, so sweet and boyish when his tongue hungrily nudged between your lips, asking for entrance.

yuuji tilted his head back from yours enough to speak once he’d had his fill of shoving his tongue down your throat, hands wandering down to rub at you through your shorts. “do you know how long i’ve been thinking about this?” his voice was husky, eyes glazed over—he was lost to his desires already.

his fingers cupped your mound, shoving the pads of them against your cunt through the fabric, making you whine. “fuck, you’re so perfect.” a quick kiss to your lips. “always so much better than what i imagine.” another kiss, but this time, when he tried to pull away, you tugged him back.

you ground down on his fingers, nipping at his lips, legs shaking. “yuuji, h-harder.” he did as he was told, pressing along your underside blindly until he found your clit, knowing it was the right spot when you let out a surprised, “oh—”

then his hands were back on your sides (despite how much he loved the feeling of you melting against his chest from barely anything at all, the heat radiating from your pussy evident even without him directly touching it) and when he whispered, “jump,” into your ear, you did as you were told, his arms catching you easily and hoisting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your cores together. once again, you were thanking the universe for blessing you with such a strong boyfriend.

yuuji was pushing his face into your neck, breathing you in, babbling, tasting the skin—everything. “i’ve missed you. missed you so, so much.” his lips tickled, leaving behind a trail of fire and goosebumps in their wake, and you were holding onto him for dear life—it was as though sometimes he didn’t realize what he did to you (actually, you were sure that was the case now that you thought about it). he was always so needy, just a few hours apart seeming to drive him wild. it was flattering and you also maybe found it a little more hot than you probably should.

“couldn’t cum without you. mmm... needed your pretty pussy.” fuck. he just kept talking and talking, and the thought of him laying on his bed, frustrated, cock gripped in his palm as he fantasized about you only a few doors down was filling your mind, your wild imagination going straight to the building heat in your body.

from this angle, your head was just a little above his and you pushed lightly on the back of his neck to bury his face further into you, breath hitching when he bit at your collarbone. “don’t worry, i’m here now, baby. you can do whatever you want,” you cooed, finding it hard to keep your voice steady.

his movements paused for a moment, only his warm breath continuing to fan against you, and then he looked up, eyes wide. “really?”

leaning down to peck his nose, you swallowed thickly at the look in his eyes, nodding. “really.”

your head spun when he immediately turned on his heels away from the door and instead walked further into the room, dropping you onto the bed not far away. you bounced when you landed on the soft surface and tried to sit up, but yuuji was already crawling between your legs, hands planted on the covers as he leaned up to kiss you, gently pushing you to lay down. you allowed yourself to fall completely back, heart beating as you stared at the ceiling. yeah, you had ended up on his bed like you thought you were going to but... it seemed like your plans of cuddling had gone completely out the window.

a tug at your shorts had you glancing downwards, seeing that he had wasted no time settling in front of you, nipping at your thighs and tugging at your bottoms. yuuji met your burning gaze when he felt it on him, his lips attached to your upper thigh—it was a pretty sight, the blooming reds resulting from none other than your own handiwork on his mouth. his eyes were wide and lustful—cute yet making your stomach do flips as only he could.

“let me taste you, please.” hoarse voice begging, he was already running a finger close to your still-covered crotch, blinking up at you and waiting for permission. he was desperate, eyes flicking down momentarily to work your shorts down just over your hip bones as he placed a lopsided kiss to your clit through them. his eyes were back on yours. “can i? you want to cum on my tongue, don’t you? you’re going to let me tongue fuck you, yeah?”

fuck, fuck, fuck. “oh my god,” you whispered, taking in his wide blown pupils. you frantically nodded at his words, if only to shut him up before you came from that.

yuuji grinned and you were absolutely done with him because it was the same cheesy smile he always gave you and, quite frankly, it wasn’t fair if he was doing it while slick dripped out of you and onto his fingers holding your underwear to the side. you wanted to hate him for driving you wild by just being him, but it turns out you were incapable of that as well.

he buried his face in your clothed cunt, pressing light kisses to it and murmuring praise about how you were so perfect, fingers working to blindly pull your bottoms down. you helped him by shimming out of them and kicking them off to the side (shoes tumbling off when you pressed them off at the heel—you’d also pulled your phone out of your pocket and chucked it somewhere further up the bed for safe keeping in a single moment of clarity), spreading your legs for him to lean down between again, knees bent and feet planted firmly on the bed.

he took a moment to admire your pussy, the dripping lips fully on display before him, and for once he was quiet, nearly drooling.

“yuu-”

his tongue was on the folds and licking a stripe up, your thighs closing in to squeeze his head closer in surprise and you pulling on his hair, your grip so strong you were almost afraid of some of the strands coming loose (or you would be if you could think straight that is).

his hands locked around your thighs and he slid you closer to him, licking and sucking as though he were starved. you yelped and clung to the bed sheets as he dragged you closer, completely caught off guard by everything and legs burning as they bounced from the onslaught at your core. “yuuji-”

“such a good girl, opening yourself up to me.” he kissed your clit, lips so soft, and humming praise. “love it when you spread open for me. fuck, love it so much, always thinking about it.”

when yuuji’s tongue poked at your heat and then wiggled its way past the entrance, slipping in with little resistance from your wet hole, curses and whines fell from your lips. he worked the muscle in and out of you, curling it perfectly against your walls to hit the weak spots inside of you before he removed it to speak again, caught up in his own thoughts, saying anything that came to mind. his lack of filter had you pressing your fingers into the back of his head with a death grip, mind reeling.

“you’re perfect, so perfect. i love this pretty pussy.” yuuji flattened his tongue against your slit, words vibrating into you. “gonna make you cum from just my tongue. going to make this pretty pussy cum from just my tongue.” and that he did. if there was anything yuuji was, it was someone who could deliver on his promises. “it’s what my pretty baby deserves.”

you don’t know how long it took him, whether it be a few short minutes or long hours that had flashed by (you had your bet on the former considering you were already ready to cum for him as soon as he’d set to work kissing and grinding against you as soon as you’d walked in the door, although you truthfully wouldn’t be surprised at either option), but yuuji hadn’t let up once on you until you were coming undone all over his tongue, too fucked out of your mind to try to last any longer. his tongue just kept going, sliding along your folds to take up everything, relishing the taste of your jucies.

your legs were jumping at the feeling, chest heaving, and you tugged at his hair to pull him up—it was so good, yet almost too much—

when he finally emerged, lower half of his face covered in slick, he was on you again, pinning you to the mattress and kissing you—he’d quickly swiped the back of his hand across his face so it wasn’t too wet, but you could still taste yourself on his tongue, mumbling around him at the taste.

“yuuji—”

even though he had finally left your cunt alone, you still felt overwhelmed as his hands drew shapes over your skin, tracing up your sides and running over your curves. “perfect—fuck—you’re so perfect. your body is perfect, perfect, perfect. want you so baddd.”

you whimpered into his mouth, unable to reply in any other way. yuuji was nuzzling his face against yours, lips landing everywhere and no where at once. “you tasted so good,” he practically moaned at the memory. he licked his lips to taste you all over again and you could feel the wetness against the side of your mouth when he did so, your faces pressed so close together you could feel every little pull of his facial muscles.

“yuuji— ugh, fuck.” you shoved your hand in front of his mouth to stop him for a moment, his latest kiss landing on your palm and still somehow making you shiver.

his eyes were wide as he blinked down at you, hands stilled on your stomach. “babe?” his voice was muffled around your hand. “did i... did i do something wrong?”

“wha- yuuji, what? baby, no, of course not.” he let you pull him to rest on your chest and you stroked his hair soothingly as he tried to peer up at you, straining his neck. “you did so well. made me cum so well.” you kissed his forehead and he squeezed one eye closed when you did so, melting at the feeling. “i just think it’s time to help you out a little, hm?”

you cut off the protest he was surely about to make about how getting you off was enough for him when your leg purposefully brushed against the front of him, his dick solid on you even under the layers. he groaned and buried his face further into your chest. the opening and closing of his lips in silent pants rubbed on your breasts still hidden under your t-shirt—you didn’t even think he was aware of it, but you sure were—and he nodded meekly in reply when you mumbled out a quiet, “okay, baby?” into his hair.

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lovelydiamond-cake · 2 years

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These two are ❤️❤️

Love them❤️❤️

Tk scenario #1

Almond comes back late from another long day of work to see Roguefort actually in their home sitting down and watching Tv.

Almond plops down right next to them wondering why they aren't out in the city, becoming his new case in the morning.

Roguefort just sits there and smiles knowing Almond is extremely tired and can't do anything because they stole something earlier that morning that he doesn't know about.

Roguefort offers to give him a massage and Almond did not hesitate to comply.

The massage is going well; nice warm touches, gentle tendering and sweet nothings being whispered into Almond's ear was all the detective needed after a long busy day at work

But then Roguefort starts to get all teasy and starts gently kissing Almond's ear.

Almond tries his best to ignore the sensation, but he can't help but to let out small snickers or whimpers.

But Roguefort doesn't commet on it yet. After a lot of kisses, Almond's face is red as a tomato, his blush reaching towards his neck.

Roguefort jussstt wanted to make sure Almond knew

"Mmhh, Almond..~ you gotten so warm all of a sudden!"

" *Clears throat* Re-Really?"

"Mhm! It's almost as if I can..snug righhhttt in here"

They proceed to bury their face into Almond's neck causing the poor detective to burst out in a pile of giggles.

And to make matters worse, they don't only tease him, but tickled him some more, Along with a couple raspberries.

"Mhmhm~ you seem so jumpy Almond! What could ever cause you to be like this"

"Roguhohohoforohoho!! PLEhehease m-MY!! STomACH NOHohoHO! It's- It's sohOHohree!!"

"Oh my! Then I should massage there as well shouldn't I?"

"DOHONT YOU DARE!"

Yeahhhhh that went on for a while! (They woke up Walnut)

Roguefort eventually did give him a break and an actual massage to make up for it

Tk scenario #2

Almond had Roguefort tied (more like chained) and was interrogating Sir Phantom Bleu for the new high priced jewels that were, for some reason, pronounced missing right after they got home.

Almond knew this would've been a quick in and out of they answered at least 3 questions, but The Phantom Bleu was making it extremely difficult, teasing the detective right after each question with no shame.

No matter how many times Roguefort told them to cut it out.

Almond tried his best to show little to no reactions to their constant teases, but they were getting to him.

It was getting even harder to hide his blush.

"Detectiveee~! These chains are starting to hurt.. do you think you can be a dear and help me out?" They asked while shaking their hips towards Almond as if to seduce him into letting them free.

Almond simply looked down at their moving hips, back at the thief's face.

Sighed.

Took of his coat.

And walked towards them.

If they wanted go play like that, Then fine, He'll play.

"Ohohoh? Are you really helping me? Well that's rather nice of you"

Almond (did his best) ignored anything else that came out of the criminal's mouth and grabbed their waist and leaning in closer to their face.

It was now Roguefort's turn not to react to the Detective's actions.

"Oh my! I wouldn't expect the detective to give up and do as I please! Did I please you enough for you to let me go?"

Almond didn't answer, instead sitting on their lap and gently massaging their body.

"OH! you didn't even take me out to dinner! Is how you treat your suspects? I must say, I am flatTERED-"

Enough of their bull, and wanting to finally get this over with, he deals with this the best way he can.

Tickling them.

It's childish, he knows. But he also knows Roguefort admits a lot when being tickled in the right place.

And low and behold, he gets his answer.

The detective stops to right down something, getting off them in the process and giving Roguefort a chance to breathe.

As Roguefort was greedily gasping for air, they noticed Almond walking back towards them.

They would've assumed he was going to set them free, if it wasnt for Almond sitting back on their lap.

They slightly panicked.

"De- Almond. Wh-what are you doing??"

"Hm? Oh. A small punishment for making me wait so long to get an answer."

"W-wait-! Im soREHEHehe!!"

"Don't worry.. this will only take a few minutes."

It did not take a few minutes..

#cookie run #tickle #cr tickles #tickle thoughts #almond cookie #roguefort cookie #almond x roguefort

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wind-becomes-lightning · 2 years

Note

Congrats on 200 Followers 💕

If you’d like I’d humbly ask for an ObitoXReader thing with the following quote as inspiration (angst, happy ending, bad ending, I don’t care):

„We are soul mates, cursed with misfortune in this lifetime.

How many more lives do I have to endure to finally be with you?

How many deaths do I have to suffer to be finally yours?“

Happy writing!

Hiiiiii!! Finally FINALLY have the time to work through my backlog and had time to finish this! I am not 100% sure I fit your prompt, but I like my story idea so I ran with it anyway. I hope you can forgive me! <3

Pairing: Obito x Reader

4041 words

Ao3 Link [x]

You are in love with a ghost. A person that only exists in dark nights and hushed words and is gone by the time the sun rises.

When your friends sit together and talk of love and conquests, of triumph and pain and they hit you lightly in the side to ask you how your love life is going, you just smile calmly and say you aren’t seeing anybody. They don’t know about the nights you stay away listening for the quietest movement, the swirl of air around you announcing him. They don’t know the way your skin feels like the touch still lingers on it, nothing but a whisper, a memory that is fading as soon as you’ve made it.

So you say no, you are seeing nobody, that you haven’t lain with someone in months, because only you can see him. He has never told you to keep his visits secret, but you took the implication from his introduction. Maybe that is why he keeps coming back to you. You don’t mind that he is only a ghost.

The first time he met you, you were scared of him. It did not matter that you grew up in a desolate village on the outskirts of water country, you knew what it meant when a person in black cloak and red clouds approached you. You’d hear the news, the stories about the legendary group of rogues out to achieve world domination, the Akasuki. You shrunk from him, backed off against your chair in the little bar you were sitting in.

But then he opened his mouth, voice dark and vibrating in your soul. He was wearing a mask of an orange swirl and once he spoke the air turned and so did your insides. It was like magic drawing you into him and soon you let him sit next to you and buy you drinks. He was flattering, never too revealing, even his fingers covered with gloves. But his voice was what took you in.

He told you he did things only once, that he just needed a distraction and that he’d chosen you to be that person. You weren’t into one night things, not usually, but there was the excitement and fear of being with an international criminal that tickled at your neck. You’d always been a little too reckless for your own good, born away from world history but with a personality to take part in it. You let him buy you more drinks and then whispered to him the location you were living at. Better not to be seen with an Akatsuki in public.

It was a good arrangement, a night of good fun and enjoyment. It was dark when he took his mask off, too dark for you to make out the face beneath it, even when his lips graced your neck and collarbone downwards between your legs. Surely he had known you wouldn’t be able to see him, anticipated it from the beginning and you were not complaining. For all you knew he’d be gone by the morning. Nothing but a phantom.

Tobi, he said you should call him and you knew he was lying. It wasn’t his name. It sounded wrong when he said it, like he was ashamed to use it. There was baggage attached to him, you could feel it, but you were content to not ask. The less you were involved with Akatsuki the better.

He was really gone when you woke up, though his smell lingered on your sheets, his taste in your mouth, his touch on your skin. A ghost of your memory, come and gone like a dream.

And that could have been it. The end of your affair with a criminal. You went back to your normal life of gossip and work and day dreaming of making it out, while at night you kept thinking about Tobi still. The memory so alive in your mind that you found your fingers snail between your legs more than once.

Maybe you should have known that a person like him was a liar. Maybe you should have been expecting it. No matter how often he had mentioned that you’d never see him again, Tobi came back to you just about a month later. Late at night when you were already fast asleep and the night was at its darkest. You could feel the air change and sat up to see his figure against the pale moonlight from outside. You could have asked of course, asked him where he came from, why he was back, but instead you buried a hand in his sweater as he buried it in your hair. His mask fell in the dark when his lips found yours.

He’d come back quite some after that. Sometimes every week, sometimes every few weeks or a month would pass, but he’d always be back for you eventually. You started seeing the signs in the way the air moved during the day, or in the eyes of a strange nin passing through your village, or when you saw a black cloak with red clouds moving in your general eyesight. Tobi seemed to like warning you beforehand, appearing during the day at a place that you generally were, to prepare you for the night. Maybe to say: don’t sleep too early. Or: dress up nicely. And you did it. Anything for him really.

Tobi was a good listener and he was interested in your life. After you had finished the fun he would hold you steady against his beating heart and let you talk about yourself. There was a childish curiosity in him that you hadn’t seen in the first two meetings, a deep longing for a normal life, you guessed. Sometimes you could feel it, the jealousy of his at the mundane state your life was in. Things you had seen as boring, dinner with parents or work or meeting up with friends, he was very interested in and wanted to hear more about. You liked his attention to you, so you talked until deep into the night.

Always gone come sunrise, you knew you’d never know where he came and went. Why does he sometimes smell like grass or snow or rain, a lot of rain? How he travelled was a mystery to you too. He seemed to appear and disappear at the blink of an eye, with as much as a slight movement of wind. And you admired him, you adored him, and the more you saw him you loved him.

At first you denied it. It was just sleeping together. You didn’t even know his face or his appearance, not more than your fingers touching their way over his naked skin. You didn’t know his real name or history or why he had been forced to go rogue. You could not love a man based on voice alone, right? This was not how love worked. Still you did. It had come over you more suddenly than anything else. Not even you could deny it any longer.

He was the ghost in your life. Appearing whenever he felt like it and then disappearing when he felt like it and you adjusted yourself towards him. You bought nicer nightgowns, you changed your sheets, you brought in external toys for you to use, you put up darker blinds to keep the light out more, you even prepared food for him sometimes after he had appeared once and his stomach had been growling with hunger. You offered this ghost a home life and he thanked you for it with lips and tongue and warm embraces. Nobody had ever made your heart beat quite as fast.

You could not ask Tobi about his life. Any innocent question about parents or childhood or school was immediately blocked off, and only a limited amount of knowledge about his criminal life was available to you. As your love for him grew so grew your longing for adventure. Who cared if it made you a criminal if you’d go with him? Getting out of this place and being with him on any and all of his missions seemed perfect to you.

But no matter how much you begged for him to take you, the answer stayed no. Tobi said with his nose in your hair, that you were too pure to go. That he needed you here, save and waiting for him. That was when you first thought that maybe he was in love with you too. You wondered if that meant you could ever be together like normal couples did, but you never asked. The state between the both of you was thin and fragile and you felt like it could burst with just one misplaced question.

So when your friends ask why you are happy lately, why your mind seems to wander off when you smile quietly to yourself, you can’t tell them about the ghost that visits you, because they would not understand. Maybe they’d tell you to stop, given his criminal background or maybe they’d tell you to lock him down somehow, force him to stay. But you don’t feel like you need to do that.

Even in times when he was gone for longer than anticipated he always returned to you. Tobi would always come back to see you eventually. You are sure of that. Locking him down wasn’t necessary.

It’s about a month since you’ve last seen Tobi when you step out of work and feel the air swirl around your nose enticingly. You can feel that it is time for him to come back, if not tonight then in the coming days. You can almost see the black cloak in front of you disappearing around a corner calling your home, to your real home. Your heart beats excitedly. This time he just had to take you.

You pretty much run through the shops to buy food for him, rice cakes, his favourites and dango and some more meat for you to cook for the both of you. He has complimented you on your cooking skills more than once so now you do it every time for him. His little praises are like a soothing cream on your soul. Additionally you run to the local seamstress who recently made you a new kimino to wear for special occasions. It has the orange colour and swirls of his mask built in, you drew the pattern down, and suits your hair and eyes. When you try it on you look fantastic.

The way home takes a little longer with all the groceries and the kimono packed under your arm but you make it as fast as you possibly can. You think of his lips and his tongue, his arms and his hair, you think of how much you missed him in these past months, you wonder what he has been up to. You wish again that you could be there with him, supporting him and protecting him. But then again, you never had shinobi training, so how should you even do that?

Tobi is not in your house when you return, does not come out of the shadows to greet you like he has done so many times before. You wonder if you guessed the signs wrong, if you had read too much in ordinary patterns. But then you saw the red cloud on black back, right? Your eyes couldn’t have deceived you that much.

You put the little things you bought away and put on the new kimono, wrapping it tightly around you so it flatters your figure. It looks good on you, exactly like you envisioned it when you saw the fabric in the store. Maybe he’d still come and see you in it, admire you and your beautiful curves under it and maybe this meant he would finally take you away with him.

With the beautiful fabric on you sit on your bed and push your hands over the sheets. Maybe it has not yet gotten dark enough for him to see you, the sun had just barely set behind the horizon, or maybe he was waiting for people in the building to go to sleep. Or maybe he just didn’t come. You feel the disappointment at your heart like a poisoned sting. You look at yourself in your side mirror and realise how pretty you've made yourself for him. A ghost. No schedule, no promises kept. Just a ghost.

He comes at midnight, you’ve already slept a little in the meantime and jump up from your chair when you hear the familiar swirl of air. “To-”, you begin your voice dying instantly. Tobi is soaked. Head to feet soaked. Water dripping from hair and cloak and boats as if he fell into the lake nearby somehow. Not only that, his mask is chipped at the top so that you can see a black eye peering at you from beneath it. It must have cracked somehow. You see the worst thing last: one of his arms is missing.

“Tobi? What happ-” you start a new sentence but he audibly drops the cloak off his shoulders. He hisses at the movement and hunches over as if in pain. You rush forward and hold him, your hands flying to his stomach, the abs beneath it you’d felt so many times in your familiar darkness, and notice the open wounds. He must have been badly burned somehow. Maybe from an explosion? But what was the soaked cloak for then? Was he in a fire or in a rainshower? You have so many questions, but you hold it back. That was why he had come back to you over others he might have had in the first place, you kept quiet.

“I can fix this'', you say soothingly, and Tobi’s head falls on your shoulder as you softly take a scissor from your desk and cut open his shirt. Underneath his skin comes in two colours, as if he is a patched up doll. You try to pay it no mind in fear that your questions might scare Tobi away, while you can feel his breath in your ear. He seems content with you touching him, seems to trust you fully.

He murmurs into your ear: “You look good by the way”, as you clean his wounds with spiritus and appear. You had totally forgotten what you were wearing. One look down into your lap shows you the new kimino completely stained with blood and water. Well, it does not matter as long as Tobi is safe, you think and continue to bandage his wounds. Luckily you know as much to be of help to him.

Plus, you can't deny the euphoria you feel that he has come to you for help and no other place. This injury seems grave, his arm is gone after all, but he did not seek out another doctor or healer, he sought you. Because you are his home exactly like he is yours. Another time you realise that your ghost is a real human, who bleeds and fights and loves. You press a kiss to his hair on your shoulder still and he hums as a reply.

About ten minutes later he lays eyes closed on your bed. You almost fully undressed him, his trained body fully in view for you for the first time. Tobi is breathing in and out slowly, most of his wounds taken care of. You look over your work with a satisfied smile and then turn to your kitchen to make some food for him. You left the mask on his face, even if it was half ripped off, because you want to show him your respect.

When you are done you help him sit up, your hand steady on his naked back, and give him the bowl to eat out of. He eats the food greedily, seeming like he hasn’t eaten in a long while. You watch him with growing concern. Always you’ve been patient with him, have left him his privacy and secrets- a proof of your love for him. But you are weary now and seeing him this injured? You trace your finger over his back.

“What happened, Tobi? You have one arm less,” you say quietly, the fabric of your kimono ruffling under your hand. He shoots you a look from the uncovered part of his face, but does not reply. It is as if he was to say: “I will pretend I didn't hear that.” Under any other circumstances you would let it go, but you can’t. Not tonight.

You decide not to back down: “I want to know what you did that injured you so greatly. I think-” I am owned as much, you want to say, but you eat the words. After all, the two of you are not a couple, not officially. Your love only exists in nights when nobody can see or hear. You have no demands to make on his life.

“Someone blew the arm up”, Tobi says dryly and makes the sentence sound like it is the end of the conversation. He finishes his food and leans over to cover your eyes with his free hand and then kisses your neck gently, then your jaw and then your lips. You want to melt into him like you so often did before, after all you have missed him for the past month or so, but you know he does it as a distraction and you have not yet given up your defiance.

“Tobi”, you say decidedly and push him away a little, “why did someone try to blow you up? I- I understand that you are doing… well, illegal things with that organisation, but- but I- I don’t want you to be this hurt, you understand?” You stutter more than you anticipated.

Tobi lets the hand off your eyes and watches you. It is weird to be able to directly look into his eye, see the way his gaze hangs on you. You are sure to see a little light flashing behind it, as if he feels pity for you, but then his eyes harden and you can see the frown even with his mask on his face. “That does not concern you.”

“I think it does a little” you reply quickly, “you came here injured, pouring water, arm missing and you expect me to just not say anything? Clean you up and make you food and open my legs for nothing in return?” Maybe there is a little too much hurt behind your words.

He says nothing, head turned away from you now. “Why did you come here today?” you say to get his attention back to you. “I’m sure there are more capable healing shinobi out there in your world, the world I don’t know, than me. And still you came here. Why?”

Your heart beats against your chest. Tobi breathes in and out, free eye locked onto the wall to his right. Then, finally, he says: “I wanted to see you.” The honesty of the reply shocks you harder than you would have thought it would. His flushed cheeks give his feelings away. You were right, he did come to see you when he was in dire straits because you had become his home. Because he loves you like you love him. You don’t need him to say it out loud, because you can see it.

“I’m glad you did. I missed you”, it is the first time you admit to that. Focusing too hard on appearing as casual with you as he appeared with you in the past. For a moment you think he might kiss you again, as he leans his body over you. Your eye meets his dark one again and there is a deep sadness in his, but instead of kissing you he pushes past you to get up, straighten his spine and pull on the wet clothes again, if a little hard with only one hand.

You sit up to move your hand forward to grab the back of his shirt before he can throw the ripped up cloak over it. “You are already leaving?” you ask, voice a little shaky. You feel like maybe you’ve asked him too much, pushed a little too hard for him to open up to you.

“There are important things to take care off- a better world to create…” his voice trails off and you aren’t sure you have heard the tail end of the sentence correctly. He is trying to build a better world? You hesitate to ask and miss the opportunity. “I just meant to check in before- before it all happens. To refresh my memory.”

None of that makes any sense to you: “Refresh your memory for what?” He does not reply, instead he wiggles himself out of your grip and throws his wet cloak over his shoulders. Before you can think or stop yourself you have gotten up and stepped into his way, the fabric of your new and stained kimono flying around your legs.

“Take me,” you say and it comes out much more breathless than any word before, “Take me with you this time. I want to go where you are going.”

Tobi looks to you, his eyes finding yours again below his chipped orange swirl. He looks lonely again, sad, as if something is weighing him down. He looks from your face to your updo to your kimono to your legs. “You really did look good today”, he says in a soft voice, as if the anger from just a minute ago has faded. “But I can’t take you. Do you understand that?” He puts his hand on your shoulder. “It is way too dangerous where I am going and you should wait here for it to happen.”

“It to happen?” you ask back innocently. He shakes his head: “You will see. Everybody will see. Be a good girl, be my good girl and wait here for me.” You bite your lip because the defiant part of you wants to say something back to him, but the other part of you that loves him above everything else wants nothing but to obey him.

You take a breath. “You’ll come back in due time, promise me that!” you say and know that there is a plea in your eyes. Tobi lets a hand fall from your shoulder and steps back towards the still opened window.

“I can promise you that we will be together”, he says, “When we see each other again, we will see each other forever. No more goodbyes. I promise.”

You quickly step forward and take his naked fingers between yours and kiss the tip of them. “I will wait for you then. I will wait forever if it means we can be together”, you say and mean it. Tobi’s eyes burn over you again as he takes his hand back. Then the swirl of air comes back, the one that you know so well now and he is gone.

He always came back, so you do not worry about his promise. In fact, your heart is so full of happiness and love at the thought of the exact wording of it. He told you when he would come back the next time you could be together forever. That he’d never leave you again. What else could that mean than that he would take you with him, finally. Bring you away from your boring everyday life.

You sing as you take off your kimino and brush out your hair, almost too drunk on love.

The news reaches you two months later. About Uchiha Obito and his crusade against the world. About the dream you and others suddenly found themselves in not long ago. You just need to hear his name for the first time to know it is him, that they are talking about your Tobi. That they talk about the man you love when they celebrate his defeat and death.

Your grief is not understandable for anyone around you and you can’t explain it. After all, the man you were in love with was nothing but a ghost.

#fanfiction things #naruto #uchiha obito #obito uchiha #uchiha obito x reader #uchiha obito x you #nisi's follower celebration #im halfway to 400 now and those are so oldd ahhh

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Note

Your riven imagine was amazing! Could write about the reactions of the winx and people in school, with a light fairy from earth being with him, please? Anyways, hope you're ok :)

Come back to me (part 1)

Pairing: Riven x reader

=================================

Ever since Rosalind officially took over Alfea, Y/N had felt her hope dwindling. She’s a light fairy, she thrives surrounded by good. The darkness surrounding her is exhausting, bleeding her dry of all positive emotions.

Belief is when there is no reason to hope, when despair sets in, and yet you hold fast to a certainty that it is worth seeking the light, even if you have never seen it.

“I’m not an asshole without a cause. Trust in me.”

Riven is what Y/N believes in. Despite her better judgement, she can’t help it - she does trust in him. Even though he’s gone down a darker path than she could have imagined.

Seeing Riven as Rosalind’s private guard had been tearing her apart, more so when she saw him locking lips with Beatrix.

‘We’re just friends’, she told herself in order to not hate him for his choices. She told herself all of this is for a reason.

“Ugh, why are you staring at those two freaks”, Stella makes a fake gagging sound, drawing attention of Riven.

He glances at Stella, but his eyes are drawn to Y/N. Swallowing thickly, Riven felt his heart sink at the hurt flickering in her eyes. Exhaling through his nose, he locked eyes with Stella again, unable to bear the heaviness of Y/N’s gaze.

“What are you looking at?” Stella narrows her eyes, making Riven roll his eyes.

“I was about to ask you the same. You do know that beauty isn’t transmittable, right? Staring won’t help fix your face.”

Beatrix snickers at Riven’s snarky remark, enjoying the way Stella��s nostrils flare in rage she’s trying to contain. Y/N shakes her head, disappointed by his behavior.

Is there really any of the old Riven left inside that empty shell of his? He barely looks like the Riven she knew let alone anything else.

“Really, Y/N? This is who you swore is the kindest guy you’ve ever known?” Bloom buts in, glaring at Riven.

“I can introduce you to someone so much better”, Aisha adds only making Y/N’s heart ache.

She doesn’t want anyone else. She wants Riven. She wants the guy who’d hold her hand and tell her everything would be alright. She wants the guy who’d written her love notes and called her Sunshine. She wants the guy who made her smile with a single look, but that’s no longer possible. She sees that now.

Blinking fast, her teeth sink into the soft flesh of her bottom lip before she turns around, rushing off to find a moment alone. She needs a place where she can heave, let out the panic of her realization pass through before she loses control and blinds half the school.

She can feel her heartbeat in her throat as tears rush to her eyes. She was his Sunshine, a ray of light capable of shining through the darkness. She doesn’t feel very light and bright anymore. She feels empty and she feels angry and hopeless and bitter about losing him.

After the storms the sunshine returns, and crying is much the same, so she lets it out, she lets it go. She must.

“Sunshine?” A breathless voice freezes her in place with her hand on her chest.

Looking over her shoulder, she finds the perpetrator of her deepest pain.

“There was hope before. Just a tiny flicker.” Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she sniffles. “Who are you now?”

“I’m still me. I’m still your Riv.” He steps closer but Y/N recoils.

“You’re not the Riv I know. And you’re certainly not mine.” She can still see his hands all over Beatrix and the flashback makes her sick to her stomach.

“I’ve always been yours, Sunshine.” Riven’s voice breaks and Y/N holds her breath with the sound cracking her sanity.

“How is it you see the suffering and choose to make it all the worse?” Sitting down, she covers her quivering lips.

“I’m not trying to make it worse, I swear”, Riven falls to his knees before her, reluctant to touch her. If he saw her recoil from his touch once again, it would kill him. They were never more than friends, but they were more together than couples who actually dated.

“Trust me”, Riven pleads, his fingers shaking as they make contact with her knees. He lets out a relieved sigh once she allows his hands to rest there.

“Trust goes both ways, Riv”, Y/N looks down to his hands, aching to take them in hers yet she can’t. She’s been itching to hold his hands for a long time now, but that would only give way for more heartbreak.

“I’m the inside man”, Riv admits and Y/N’s eyes widen. “I’m trying to find a way to take them down and get Silva out of prison. Sky knows this. Only Sky.” Shaking his head, Riv sighs, “And now you. No one else can be included, Sunshine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me from the start?” She leans in, her breath tickling his lips as their foreheads meet and they close their eyes. The intensity of the moment set them aflame for they’ve never allowed each other the luxury of such intimate touches. Not in a sexual manner, although Riven wanted her in every way, but in a way where the sound of her voice was enough to make his heart flutter. And he never had his heart flutter.

“I told you to trust me.” Riv defends, making her smile.

“You’re an asshole”, she whispers. She can’t help but wonder if he’ll kiss her, finally. The anticipation is mirrored in her shaky lips and she knows she’s so unprepared, but she longs for him.

“I’m your asshole”, Riven’s nose brushes hers and her heart skips at the notion.

Riven’s hand found the back of her neck, quickly pulling her closer until their lips touched and the words ceased. The kiss barely lasted, managing to take their breaths away in an instant. Y/N surrendered to his touch, losing her senses as his lips brought her heartbeat to the speed of light. Her lips tingled, electricity sparking up throughout her body and her hands clutched to his shirt with all their might as if he could slip through her fingers like sand. He’d been wondering how her rosy lips would taste, never quite sure if it would make any impact on him but from the way his hands tremble with her face in them tucked away safely, he knew he has been bested.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave”, he whispers against her lips before pecking them again, drunk on adrenaline her lips caused.

“Don’t leave then”, she cups his face, holding him close. The simple thought of letting him go pains her. “When you’re gone, I’m stuck in darkness.”

Drawing a deep breath, Riven inches away. Using his hands, he brings her hands down from his face, clinging to the softness of her palms for a moment longer. “Even when I’m with you, I’m darkness that’s consuming you. Sunshine, no matter what happens, I’ll always be bad for you.”

Scoffing, she narrows her eyes ever so slightly, “That should be my choice and I choose you.”

“If you cling to me, I’ll snuff out your light. It’s who I am. I’m the darkness to your light, the night to your day. These kinds of loves don’t have happy endings.” Pressing a kiss to her palm, Riven leaves Y/N in deep thought.

Is it true? Is he her darkness? How much light had he taken already? Because even with that in mind, she wished to be consumed by him entirely.

People say the darkness presses in, but that’s not true. The darkness kisses up to your skin closer than a lover’s lips and whispers excitement into your ears. The darkness becomes your best friend, a second skin that’s flattering and cool. The darkness becomes your favorite thing right up until your exits are blocked, then it has no reason to hide.

If it was easy to spot darkness there wouldn’t be a problem, now would it?

How often do you confuse day and night?

“Riven is my darkness”, she realizes and yet she doesn’t care. She’s light enough for both of them. If he is her darkness, she is his light and while the sun and the moon failed to make it work, Y/N decided to prove everyone wrong, Riven included.

PART 3

#riven fate winx saga #riven x reader #riven imagine #riven angst #fate the winx saga #fate the winx saga fic #fate the winx saga fanfic

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years

Text

White Lilac

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (war! au)

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: hints to major character death

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: pg13

Summary: White lilac- a symbol of purity and innocence, that is what he saw in you that day. He promised himself he would keep you safe and happy, but the cold hard reality has other plans for the two of you. The promise that he made under the lilac tree led to the ultimate sacrifice.

A/N: This is part of the Love Blossom Series (4/7) and square 5/25 of the @bangtanwritingbingo event (square: Jeon Jungkook). I want to thank my amazing beta @dinamitae. Eva you have been a gem for helping me with this one! <3 I have not written angst in a while and you have given me the confidence that i needed! I would also like to thank my best friend for putting herself through finding the perfect picture for me to make a banner out of! (I promise i am done angst-ing Jungkook for now!)

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner.

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

The scent of white lilacs invaded your senses, the sweet fragrance wafting along the warm spring breeze. Walking through the garden you giggled as you observed the bees, barely awoken from their slumber over the winter. It was cathartic, the stillness of the garden, the smells enveloping you offering a sense of peace you revelled in.

You sat down underneath the big white lilac tree, a bunch of flowers nestled in your lap. You hummed whilst your fingers worked diligently at making a flower crown. It was the only time you had to enjoy the nature around you and you were going to make the most of it. Humming to yourself you didn’t notice the man that approached silently on the pathway ahead of you.

Jungkook observed you for a while, his eyes taking in the picture of innocence that lay ahead of him. He would tell you this years later, but he fell in love with you as soon as he saw you. His heart thumped in his chest at the sight of your wide smile and childlike glee as you placed your finished crown on your head. He decided then and there that he would do anything in his power to keep that smile on your face. Determined to be the one to have your heart, he approached you. Finally noticing him, the wide smile you offered him sealed his fate.

“Jungkook!” you laughed in delight as said man picked you up in his arms, “put me down!” Your legs thrashed around trying to wiggle yourself out of his hold. Jungkook held onto you tighter, his laugh echoing around the row of lilacs towering over you.

“Y/N, you will fall!” he warned you when your incessant slaps on his back made him lose his grip on you. Laughing you stopped and just let yourself hang over his shoulder allowing him to carry you, the basket he had on his other shoulder obstructing your view.

“And here I present to you, the queen of the garden, Y/N” he made a show out of placing you back on your feet underneath the same lilac tree he found you months ago. The lilac tree that drew his attention, it being the tallest one standing like a beacon amongst the others. You chuckled and steadied yourself still holding onto his shoulder.

“You flatter me good sir, I am but a fairy of the garden” you mock curtsied, the dress you were wearing billowing around you. Jungkook took a moment to absorb the smell of the lilac and the sight of you. The sun shone through the branches, casting shadows over the ground and yet it seemed like the rays of sun managed to find you anywhere you went. The light shining around you gave you an ethereal glow. He couldn’t have been happier than at that moment.

You smiled at him and offered him your hand. “Come on, let's sit down and have that picnic” you beckoned him. He let himself be guided by you, in his head making a promise that he would follow you wherever you would go.

Playfully tugging at his hand you urged him to hurry up and set down the basket he carried over his shoulder. Doing so gave him the mobility he needed to tug back at you, his strength greater than yours. Yelping you stumbled backwards into him, your hands on his chest to stop yourself from falling.

“Jungkook!” you chided with a gentle slap on his arm. You tried to look serious in your mock anger but the crinkle at the corner of your eyes told him otherwise. He pretended to look apologetic for a second before a mischievous grin formed on his face. In an instant you were trapped in his arms, his fingers digging into your sides tickling you. Pearls of laughter fell from your lips, and Jungkook swore he’d never heard anything more pure.

“Stooooop” you pleaded but it was futile. When at last you forfeited, he stopped, but the grip he had on you tightened. He raised one hand to cup your face, your bodies so close together that you could feel each and every breath he took, each heartbeat. The laughter died from your lips and you inhaled sharply. He was beautiful, his kind eyes locking with yours. A surge of affection and happiness washed over you. Mirroring the hand he had on your cheek, your thumb caressed his.

“I love you” your admittance was nothing new to him, but each time he heard it, it felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest. His smile promised you eternal love and devotion and when his lips moulded into yours in a kiss, you believed it.

“Marry me” he whispered. You never thought you’d feel so incandescently euphoric, but as you nodded your head and whispered your acceptance against his lips, you felt like you were on top of the world.

The white lilac tree- your white lilac tree- stood once again in bloom, the fragrance caressing your sensitive nose. With your head buried in Jungkook’s shoulder you revelled in his warmth. You felt content, his strong arms around you, his palms resting on your hips tracing patterns that only he knew about.

“Y/N” his sleepy voice penetrated the daydream you had fallen under. You hummed in response, feeling too tranquil to speak. He paused for a couple of seconds and you allowed him to gather his thoughts. When he remained quiet you realised that what he wanted to say was serious enough to trouble him.You lifted your head up to glance at him, instantly reading the worry on his face. His brows were furrowed and he was biting his lips in concentration. Releasing yourself from his warm grip you cupped his face, a feeling of unease washing over you.

The relaxed atmosphere you have been basking in earlier is broken by the somberness in his eyes. You knew what he was going to say and with a pained smile you shushed him before he could speak.

“I know, I understand.” His eyes pleaded for you to believe that he had no other choice, he had to fulfill his promise. He prayed that you knew how much he loved you and what you meant to him. You understood but it wasn’t easier on you. “We will make it through this, I promise.”

That night you did not let each other go, under the white lilac tree, hands intertwined, the ring on your finger telling the story of a forever that would never be.

‘To Y/N,

With regrets we share the news of…..’

The scent of while lilacs no longer mattered to you. Walking through the same garden where you met your husband all those years ago felt like a thousand knives stabbing into you. The rain pelted down on the hard ground loudly, in a pattern that almost felt like gunshots. Your feet carried you mindlessly through the pathways you and Jungkook would walk through, hand in hand, very much in love. With him by your side the road felt too short, but the cold empty space next to you reminded you of how long the distance actually was. It felt like an eternity, your feet aching, your throat coarse. One foot in front of the other, one tear trailing another down your cheek, your fingers gripped tightly onto a piece of soaked paper. The words smudged, but you didn’t care, you knew them by heart. They burnt a hole through you, raged inside your numb heart.

‘Beloved Y/N,

It is getting dark here so I will have to write this quickly.

You have always been better with words than I have, but I will try my best to be up to par with your skills. I long to see you, see your warm smile, see your eyes crinkle when you laugh at my jokes, see the way you light up when we walk through the garden.

I long to be able to hold your warm hand. I have almost forgotten what they feel like, my hands can only remember the coldness of weapons and the dirt that they have gripped for so many months. But maybe I should not touch your hands from now on, my bloodstained ones would only taint them with the sins that I have had to commit.

Y/N, I am afraid. It is cold here. I am forgetting what the sun looks like, what the smell of the white lilacs on your skin feels like, what your lips taste like. I wonder if I will ever make it back and experience them again.

I know I have made you cry time and time again by now, please forgive me. I have never wanted to cause you pain. Had I known this is how things were going to end up, I would have not approached you that day in the garden. You were so beautiful to me, framed by the lilacs, a crown of flowers on your head. You looked like a princess. Pure and innocent.

I never meant to taint that innocence, I wanted to keep you safe and sound, warm and happy, keep the smile tattooed on your face.

I am here now holding onto the last bit of hope that I will fulfill that promise. I am writing to you now to make another promise. That somehow, someday, I will return to you.

I would continue writing but the sky is getting dark and the rain is making it difficult to hold the pen.

I love you, now and forever.

Eternally yours,

Jeon Jungkook’

And so the white lilacs never bloomed in your heart again.

Main Masterlist

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

"different young (rebound) hunk on his arm every week…newton geiszler who?" CAN YOU WRITE THIS FIC PLEASE? Hermann as the new heartthrob of the science world, cheekbones that can cut glass, baby gay scientists everywhere using appalling math-related pick-up lines in an attempt to be the booty call of the week. Newton catches a glimpse of him at a fundraiser and the Precursors have to stop him from crying with lust.

so tragically I plotted a whole fic for this and then came back and realized this prompt involves PRU but I liked my idea too much so unfortunately I won’t be filling the PRU part 😔 but I DO love heartthrob hermann sooooooooo. this can be pre-PRU if you want to make it sad actually CW for drinking and mild allusion to not sfw stuff. when will these boys talk about their feelings?

-------------------------------------------

Hermann doesn’t like going out to bars at the best of times, least of all after he’s had the sort of exceptionally long day he’s had today (fighting his way through airports and hotel lobbies, fielding interview questions, having not even a minute’s break from Newton), but even he will admit that the one Newton has dragged him along to tonight could be far worse. The sorts of bars Newton fancied throughout their stint at the Hong Kong Shatterdome tended to be far hipper, far more becoming for a man of his (and, admittedly, Hermann’s) age, and likely aimed at tourists: pounding music, dark rooms, neon lighting, overpriced drinks, an inability to navigate through throngs of dancing bodies without bumping into at least half a dozen people. For that reason Hermann’s blood practically ran cold earlier that evening when, fresh out of their latest television interview, Newton insisted that Hermann needed to unwind a little. That Newton would help him unwind a little.

Hermann was pleasantly surprised to find that though the music (a live band) is still loud, and drink prices are still inflated, at least he can see Newton, and at least the few people dancing are dancing far away from them. And, well, perhaps it’s made him more amenable to (mostly) matching Newton drink-for-drink, and to indulging him in knocking back not one, but two rounds of the most disgusting-looking pink shots of all time, and— “Look, dude,” Newton declares, tossing an arm around Hermann’s shoulder. He’s shouting and leaning in too-close to Hermann, not because he’s intoxicated, but rather to be heard over the band, which has launched into a rather enthusiastic cover of some song Hermann’s sure he’s heard blaring from Newton’s iTunes before. His stubble tickles the shell of Hermann’s ear. “Just say it with me. It’s that easy. R-e-t-i-r-e-m—”

“We are thirty-five,” Hermann says. “We can’t just—”

“We absolutely can,” Newton says. He nudges his cocktail glass into Hermann’s chest, sloshing a bit of hot pink Watermelon Crush on his neat button-up. Hermann stifles a sigh; the shirt is brand new, bought just that morning for the interview, and will already be needing a wash. And smelling like liquified hard candy for the rest of the evening. “You and me, lying on a beach somewhere, sleeping in until noon every day, learning how to—to fish, or paint, or whatever the hell we want—”

“Not a beach,” Hermann says immediately. “I’m bloody well sick of beaches. Oceans, lakes, bays—no more."

Indulging Newton’s ridiculous little fantasy, even for a moment, is a mistake: Newton’s face lights up in a grin, and he tucks his arm around Hermann’s shoulder to pull Hermann flush against him. Hermann’s barstool wobbles dangerously. “Okay, no beaches. Far away from any coastline. The mountains, then.” It’d be just their luck, Hermann thinks, if the next Breach reopened far away from the ocean, too. Like it followed them somehow. “Let’s move to Switzerland or something and buy a log cabin or a cave and become weird recluses. I’ll learn how to ski, and you can grow a beard, and we can buy all our furniture at Ikea—” He frowns. “Is Ikea from Switzerland? Sweden? I haven’t been since college.”

“I don’t recall ever agreeing to move anywhere with you in the first place,” Hermann says, “let alone retire to do so. What on earth makes you think I’d follow you to Switzerland? I’ve no interest whatsoever in Switzerland.”

“Uh, because we’re best friends?” Newton says. “Anyway, what else would you do?”

“Anything,” Hermann says. He begins to tick off all the possibilities on his fingers while Newton watches him, unimpressed. “I could stay in Hong Kong—I’m sure they’d appreciate help monitoring what remains of the Breach. Or I could move back to England and resume my old teaching post, if they’d have me.” Hermann knows they’d have him; they’ve already sent him at least a dozen emails practically begging him to accept tenure. “Or back to Germany, with my parents.”

“I could totally do all that, too,” Newton says. “Well—not the Germany thing. No offense, dude, but your parents kinda suck. I don’t think I want them as my roommates.”

Hermann decides not to mention that the odds are very high they would not want Newton as a roommate, either. He’s tempted to ask Newton if he meant what he said about them being best friends—for Hermann can’t recall the last time someone called him their best friend, if ever—but Newton’s arm is slipping from his shoulders, and Newton is pulling out his mobile phone and tapping away frantically at it. Hermann feels strangely bereft without his touch. “Okay,” Newton says, his eyes scanning the screen, “Ikea was founded in Sweden, but they moved headquarters in—”

“Excuse me?”

Hermann and Newton both startle, Newton nearly dropping his phone, and the bartender who’d interrupted them smiles apologetically. He’s holding a pint of what appears to be beer. “Sorry to bother you guys,” he says to them, “but this is from the young man over there in the pink shirt.”

At the sight of the drink Newton brightens and puffs out his chest visibly. Bloody perfect, Hermann thinks. Just want Newton needs—another boost to his ego. “No sweat,” Newton says. He tosses his mobile to the bar counter casually and reaches to accept the glass. “Please tell him I’m super flattered, but—”

“Actually, sir,” the bartender interrupts, and—to Hermann’s surprise—slides the glass away from Newton’s grasp and over to Hermann. Hermann takes it without a word, not quite daring to believe it. Down the bar, out of the corner of his eye, he can see the flash of a bright pink shirt, but he can’t quite make himself turn to acknowledge the mystery admirer. Is that rude of him? No one has ever sent him a drink before. He’s not quite sure of the etiquette. “It’s, um, not for you.”

Newton deflates like a popped balloon. A blush spreads across his cheeks, barely visible beneath his freckles, which have come out again in the spring sunlight now that they’re not spending all their time in the Shatterdome basement. Hermann likes the look of them; he thinks they’re sweet, and that if he traced his fingertip across them they’d make a pattern of some sort, like a constellation. Not that he ever would, of course. Newton would surely ridicule him. "Right, duh,” Newton says.

He waits until the bartender is gone to round on Hermann. “Dude!” he says, almost accusatory, “Fourth time this week!”

“It is not,” Hermann protests. It’s weak to his own ears: even he isn’t thick enough to miss the sudden influx of attention he’s gotten since their first television interview last month. Hermann was never exactly popular, never exactly the sort the drive people wild with lust or romantic longing, yet it seems as if he can’t go anywhere these days without turning a few heads (including mid-twentysomething heads, mortifyingly enough) and getting a few cellular numbers slipped into his hand. Yesterday, a young man on the metro asked Hermann if he might like to see a movie some time. The day before that, another man wearing a jean jacket full of enamel pins stepped up to Hermann in a Starbucks and asked him if he could call-cu-later. Last week, a starry-eyed college student stopped Hermann outside a hotel to ask him to sign his Calculus 3 textbook, excitedly telling Hermann he switched degrees to astrophysics not a few days prior after reading an interview with Hermann in a rather obscure pop science magazine, and had blushed when Hermann thanked him. Newton had laughed at that one, and advised the young man to give biology a shot instead. (Newton had gotten very cross when he was promptly ignored, and in referencing the incident later, rather bitterly called the student an annoying little punk.)

This is to say nothing, of course, of the multiple news articles (listicles, as Newton calls them) Newton has forced him to read about himself on something called Buzzfeed, which have apparently helped to cement Hermann’s fifteen minutes of fame. One was called Twelve Times Dr. Hermann Gottlieb Was A Fashion Icon and was accompanied with a rather embarrassing array of candid photos of Hermann. Newton has been particularly incensed over that one.

“It is,” Newton says. “At least third. You know, I think the worst part is that you’re not even getting laid. Dudes are throwing themselves at you left and right—”

“Am I meant to go home with any random stranger who shows me the briefest bit of attention?” Hermann snaps. “I like to think I have somewhat higher standards than that.” I’m not like you, he nearly adds, but decides that it might perhaps be too cruel, especially considering that Newton has not gotten a fraction of the attention Hermann has over the past month. He remembers what it used to be like in the Shatterdome, is all; Newton seemed to like anyone who would give him the time of day. Most of his romances didn’t fare well for that reason.

“I’m just saying you could, and you’re not,” Newton says.

Hermann taps his finger against the pint glass, watching bubbles release from the side and rise to the top. When he finally takes a sip, it makes him wrinkle his nose. He’s not usually much for drinking. “I don’t like IPAs,” he says.

“I’ll take it,” Newton says, and the corner of his mouth hitches up in a grin, “as long as your boyfriend won’t get offended.”

Considering that Newton has only just finished following up his two shots with a cocktail, Hermann questions the decision, but slides him the glass anyway. Newton starts on it at once. Hermann wonders if he’ll need to call them a rideshare back to their hotel tonight; he’s not sure he can manage guiding a intoxicated Newton through the streets of the city on foot, especially not after a day that’s been rather unkind on his hip. “Only I suppose I have trouble believing it,” Hermann admits.

“Believing what?” Newton says.

“That they’re genuinely interested,” Hermann says.

To Hermann’s surprise, Newton snorts. “Nah, dude. You’ve got—” He taps Hermann’s chest, and leaves his hand there. “—sex appeal. You’ve got the, like, soulful eyes, and the movie star eyelashes, and the cheekbones and—” He drags his fingertip along Hermann’s jaw, and Hermann masks his sharp flinch in a cough, hoping Newton can’t feel his face heating up. He doesn’t remember if Newton has ever touched his face before. It feels shockingly intimate. “People think it’s super hot.” He takes another sip of Hermann’s drink. "Plus, you’re so—like—uptight. It makes people wonder what you’re bottling up.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “Bottling up?”

“In a sexy way,” Newton clarifies.

He settles his hand back on Hermann’s chest. Hermann licks his lips. Has Newton wondered those sorts of things about him, too? “You’ve had—too much to drink,” he says.

“A little bit,” Newton agrees. “I’m right, though. I like this shirt, by the way, it’s a nice cut on you.” He toys with one of the shirt’s buttons, and when he speaks again it’s in a low voice that makes Hermann’s mouth feel strangely dry. Hermann has never heard it from him before. “Wanna go back to the hotel and rent a movie or something?”

He’s peering at Hermann through his eyelashes, smiling in an odd little way. How terribly close they are to each other, Hermann realizes. He can count every tiny scratch in Newton’s eyeglasses, every fleck of gold in his eyes, every freckle on his cheeks. He wonders if Newton really wants to rent a movie; he wonders what Newton would do if Hermann closed the inch between them, and... “I,” Hermann stammers, gaze fixed on Newton’s mouth (stained pinker from his drink), “er, yes, only—only I feel as if I ought to thank the gentleman who sent me—”

At once, Newton drops away from him. His face hardens. His smile hardens, too. “Oh, right. I forgot,” he says. He inclines his head down the bar. “Pink shirt, right?”

Hermann casts his eyes about, searching for the pink-shirted stranger. When he doesn’t immediately spot him, a small bubble of relief swells within him. Perhaps he left, perhaps he decided he’s not interested in Hermann after all, perhaps Hermann is free to go back to the hotel with Newton and watch a film and argue about retirement and… “Oh, there,” Newton says. A man catches Hermann’s eye and waves timidly. He’s wearing a pink button-up.

“Bugger,” Hermann mutters. His admirer is not unattractive—in fact, he’s the opposite, with curly hair and glasses even thicker than Newton’s—which Newton seems to notice, too. He claps Hermann on the shoulder, hard enough that Hermann sways with it.

“He’s totally cute,” Newton says, “and he’s totally into you. You gotta at least get his number.” He takes another large sip of Hermann’s drink. “Better yet, get yourself laid. You could use it.”

Hermann feels the oddest sense of whiplash. Just a minute prior, he was about to kiss Newton (and he was pretty sure Newton was going to kiss him back), and now Newton is practically throwing him at another man. Hermann does not want to get anyone’s phone number—he wants to fall asleep in his stiff hotel bed to some absolutely awful science-fiction movie Newton picks out. “Newton,” he says, “weren’t we going to—?”

“No biggie, we can do movie night tomorrow instead,” Newton says. He nudges Hermann’s calf with the toe of his boot, and holds out his cane to him. Hermann feels his heart begin to sink. “I won’t wait up for you. Just give me a heads up if he wants to go back to our place, and I’ll make sure to stay out longer.”

“I’m sure it’ll only take a moment,” Hermann says. He’ll make sure it only takes a moment.

“No biggie,” Newton repeats. He raises his glass to Hermann in a mock toast. “Good luck!”

When Hermann looks back over his shoulder, halfway to the man in the pink shirt, it’s to see Newton’s stool vacant, and the back of Newton’s leather jacket swishing out the bar doors.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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lysmune · 3 years

Text

demon’s kiss

24/7

(OM! Demons/Reader)

i: Satan - 5:35AM

Satan’s kisses are sunbursts, rimmed sweet from morning precipitation as he guides, goads, without a breath of hesitation. Nipping, skimming your bottom lip, he engulfs wholly, utterly, and you’re always left a little mesmerised, a little giddy.

Fingers running up your side and down, and you giggle into his mouth, into the quiet evaporating gasps when he pulls away and he pecks the tip of your nose with emerald-flecked mischief.

“Wide-awake, are we?”

ii: Diavolo - 6:30 AM

Diavolo’s kisses are open-mouthed, hopping from your lips to your jaw, to the dip of your neck and your clavicle. His body wash lingers, warm, faintly musky as you ball the fabric of his shirt, tugging him a little closer.

Laughter shivering your skin, biting at you playfully, nuzzling into you, his hair tickling before he reaches up to your lips once again. It’s a little rushed, a little sloppy, but you find that it suits him just as well, and he cradles you when he pulls away, even if it’s brief.

“I have to get up,” is his soft, chuckling plea and, as much as you’d like him to stay, you surrender him to his work. Brushing your hair to the side, he whispers the promise of his return, a dinner together and a reward you’d very much like to sink your teeth into.

iii: Beelzebub - 12:00 PM

Despite his intimidating build, Beelzebub’s kisses are tender, mellow, bitter caramel and pudding between his teeth. He handles you with a delicate touch and you’re precious in his arms, your hands up against his chest, the strong beat of his heart thrumming under your palm.

Never pushing, never forcing, he always seems to back away just before you do, your name tumbling in honeyed dulcet tones. An endearing smile smoothed by affection, warmed by the kitchen heat, you raise your hand to cup his cheek and he gladly presses into you.

“You taste sweet,” he confesses, thumbing a peck into your palm, and you chuckle at how unabashed, how honest he always is.

“Thank you.”

iv: Asmodeus - 2:00 PM

Coloured in rose perfume, Asmodeus’ kisses flatter you, coiling in an intoxicating swirl of indigo and peach as he pins you down against his bed, his knee between your legs and his hands flitting across your figure. You shudder into his caress, back arching when he traces the length of your abdomen, the swell of your hip, the curve of your thighs.

Giggles spill into your mouth, the shell of your ear, unsparing in his touches as he bares warm flesh to cool air, to warmer palms, relishing in the way you’re sighing his name in praise. He adores you with sugared compliments, his lips grazing every inch of you in fluttering pecks, a topaz gaze transfixed by the blush of your body.

He always stops, just as you’re at the precipice of it all, coyly slinking back, taking you into an embrace while he smooths you out.

“Sorry,” he winks, grinning, knowing. “I got a little too carried away.”

v: Belphegor - 5:45 PM

Taking all the time in the world, Belphegor’s kisses are, oddly, patient. He nips at your bottom lip as his thumb strokes your cheek, humming your name, brushing your hair back. Through violet eyes, he admires.

When he finally presses his lips against yours, everything around you seems to flicker ablur, quelling into a silence as you ease in his arms. Mint peppery on your tongue, tart with raspberries and dewed in stardust, holding you tighter still. He’s gentle, if not unyielding.

No matter how many times he breaks away, gives you space, he’s never really distant, his lips hovering yours for a few heartbeats before he captures you again. Languorously, he showers you with quiet affection, fingers running across your arms, resting at your waist, and you always feel ethereal in his touch, as though you’re floating, as though you’re in a dream.

Pulling away for the last time, you watch him in a daze as he thumbs a light kiss to your eyelid, the crescent of smile etching itself before he chuckles at the sight of you.

“Again?” he asks and you nod. Wordlessly, without any hesitation, he lulls you back in.

vi: Barbatos - 7:00 PM

Earl grey and rose petals, and crème Chantilly; that’s the only indication of Barbatos’ kiss today. You swear you feel him soft against your lips, the ever slight hand on the small of your back, his hair tickling your eyelids when he bends, but when light floods your vision, he’s a good few spaces away.

You’re not sure if you’re to believe it happened or not, your fingers skimming your bottom lip as though it would jolt the process of a recollection. You hear him chuckle quietly and you look up to meet the serpentine gleam of his gaze.

Pressing a finger to his mouth, a smile curling at the edges, he sends a small hush that makes you warm with blush, the thrill of your intimacies being kept under wraps tingling across skin.

“Later,” and with that, he assures you that this isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of him today.

vii: Mammon - 10:25 PM

Under the flickering fluorescence of a dying street lamp, the aftermath of a sudden shower, the slight bittersweet tang of Demonus, Mammon’s kisses are uncharacteristically bold.

Hands clinging, wandering, roaming the side of your thighs, your waist, your face as he pulls you flush against him with his other. Balling his shirt in your fists, you tug and he deepens the entwinement, teeth skimming your lip before his tongue tangles yours, brash as he always is, though the way he strokes your cheek is as kind as ever.

Hovering, lingering, when you break for air, he shies his gaze away and you’re met with the sight of him, blushed twice over to the tips of his ears. You laugh, wondering where all his bluster’s gone, pressing a peck onto his cheek that stiffens him straight as he looks at you, wide-eyed and nothing short of surprised.

“Y-ya can’t jus’ do tha’ outta nowhere!” he stumbles, frowning as he does, though the soft look he fixes on you betrays it. Without so much of a warning, he hoists you up and you yelp, your arms finding purchase on the strong line of his shoulder while your legs wrap around his waist, his hand slipping under your thigh to support you.

“Mammon!” you yell and he lets out a giddy, unrestrained chortle.

Kissing the top of your cheekbone, he smirks. “Payback,” and he captures your lips once again, rapturous.

viii: Leviathan - 12:00 AM

Leviathan’s kisses tremble in your mouth, quivering ever just when you return his affections in earnest, hugging you tighter as you lean back against his chest. He’s awkward, unsure, but he holds you with a tenderness that makes your heart melt.

He leaves the ocean on your lips, mellowly sweet and herbaceous, and you shift in his lap to bury your head into the crook of his neck, the scent of brine and saltwater clinging to him like second skin.

“D-don’t do that,” he stutters out. You peek out from below and raise a brow in question, and he seems to slump, the sunset across his blue eyes dulling. “I smell; I’m a yucky otaku after all.”

Pressing your hand to his chest as you rise up to peck the edge of his lips, and he stumbles at the suddenness. “You’re not,” is your answer and he bites the inside of his cheek, looking away, flustering and fumbling before you raise your hand to his cheek to focus on you.

He holds his breath for a moment then, before his shoulders relax. He doesn’t ask for any confirmation, he just simply allows himself to trust your words, to hold you tighter with a little more confidence. Tugging the blanket that swaddles the both of you closer, you can only sigh as he starts to hum, soft and melodic, and not nearly as often as you’d like him to.

With the waves crashing frail at the shell of your ear, you rest yourself flush against him, clutching his shirt, eyes fluttering close. A featherlight kiss onto the top of your head and the sea swallows you into a fitful slumber.

ix: Lucifer - 3:30 AM

Incandescence rims him gold, the smell of juniper spiced and woody, grating the metallic tang of fresh ink as his fingers brush your cheek. Underscored by bitter coffee, Lucifer’s kisses are the aftermath of countless sleepless nights.

His lips are harsh against yours, clashing, bruising, the hand on the back of your neck pushing your forward as his teeth skim your mouth. Breaking away, your fingers twine his hair, tugging him closer when he trails kisses down your jaw, shuddering as he bites and suckles on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, your hand coming up to his chest, the other gripping the chair’s arm.

With one last peck to your newly formed love mark, he pulls apart, drinking in his handiwork with a proud gleam. “Beautiful,” he hums and you flush, clicking your tongue at him; he raises a brow. “No?”

“Somewhere less obvious would’ve been better,” you huff out. Chuckling, he brings your hand from his chest to his lips and a shiver runs through you when he levels a devilish gaze at you.

“That would’ve completely missed the point,” he answers and you roll your eyes, shaking your head, but he’s unperturbed, thumbing a kiss to your wrist. “Besides, red suits you.”

As if to prove him right, warmth floods your cheeks and he laughs once more, a little freer this time, with less of an arrogance. You lean forward, just slightly, before you glance at the clock on his table. He appears to have followed your line of sight, because he clears his throat and straightens his back.

“You can go ahead and sleep first,” he encourages, assures; you shake your head.

“Not unless you are,” you assert and his mouth opens in protest, yet you shush him by continuing. “Paperwork can wait, your sorry excuse of a sleep schedule can’t.”

He frowns at that. “I have a sleep schedule.”

“Last I checked, three hours isn’t a sleep schedule,” you retort.

“It’s still sleep.”

“Lucifer.”

At that, he complies, allowing you to disentangle yourself from him as he stands. He’s still reluctant, you can tell, so you reach up to cup his face in your hands and pull him down to meet your eyes.

“Please, get some rest.”

He tenses for a moment, though it doesn’t last long. His stare softens as his mouth curls into a small smile, his hand taking yours before he nods.

“Alright.”

Tenderly, gently, he leads you to the bed and takes you into his arms in a rare display of intimacy. Fingers carding through your hair, his chest falling and rising in rhythm, you drift off with his heartbeat in your ears.

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frostsinth · 4 years

Text

The Bard’s Bounty - Pt. 10

Parts 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9

Ahhhh! THE FINAL PART!! This features their theme song, “Just the Girl” by The Click Five. Feel free to listen to it, I feel like it really captures their whole relationship!

I always enjoying writing these. Hopefully I tied up all the loose ends nicely. I have a few ideas in mind for my next fic, but please; I’d love to hear from you guys! If you have a story you’ve always wanted to read (especially slow burns), let me know! I’m open to suggestions!

Hope you enjoy, and thanks for joining me on this wild ride!

“Iara!”

I heard Balam calling me, but didn’t bother to slow. I wanted to put as much distance between us and the city as we could. Half the night was gone, but still I hardly slowed our pace. Goda panted a little beneath me, her sides slick. We moved alongside a river now, its cool waters lapping lazily at its banks.

Despite the growing irritation in his words, the sound of the bard’s voice wrapped a warmth around me. Reassuring me that yes, he was still behind me. Still following me. Because I didn’t have the strength to look back and check. Every time the silence stretched, I felt the panic rising in my breast. That he had seen my true colors now. And they weren’t so appealing to him anymore.

I gritted my teeth and urged Goda on. She tossed up her head with a snort of complaint, her ears flicking back towards me. The moonlight gleamed on her sweat damp hide, trimming her in silver. But she obediently picked up the pace as best she could.

The sound of hooves beyond hers filled my ears, and suddenly a big meaty hand reached out and grabbed Goda’s halter. Balam’s mount squealed, and he pulled us both to a stop. Goda stamped her hooves and flattened her ears at the males, snapping her tail behind her like a whip.

“Iara! Stop!”

I spun, shooting icy daggers at the bard, my hands clenching into fists. He eyed me warily.

“What?!” I snapped, unable to keep the irritation from my voice.

“The horses are exhausted,” he replied, “I’m exhausted. Honestly, it's a miracle I haven’t fallen out of my saddle yet. We need to stop.”

“We’re not far enough yet.” I argued, but found my eyes skimming over him.

One eye was swollen nearly shut, and his lip was fatter than usual. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and I could only imagine the injuries I couldn’t see.

But I was afraid. Afraid of stopping. Afraid of facing him again. After what I had done. I wrung the reins in my hands. Goda’s breath came in heaving pants beneath my legs, and I felt a stab of guilt for driving her so hard for so long.

“We’re far enough for tonight.” Balam said, and with a grunt swung himself off his mount.

Taking the reins, in hand again, he led the dark gelding on foot over to the edge of the river. The water pooled within the rocks here, away from the current at the center of the river. A few large trees grew in a small cluster, their huge branches reaching out over the water. Balam unsaddled the gelding, hobbled him, and removed his bridle, resting the equipment over one low hanging branch. The horse eagerly dropped his head to the water and drank deeply.

I watched the bard quietly, fear constricting into a knot in my stomach. Goda jerked her head up, then moved forward without my signal. Approaching the gelding to his left, she snaked out and nipped him gently on the flank. He squealed again, and skittered sideways, making space for her. I glanced down at my hands for a moment, taking a slow, steadying breath. Then I slid off her back, slowly easing myself to my own two feet for the first time in hours.

I was taking off her equipment when I heard splashing. Dropping it on a rock, I turned to see Balam wading into the water until he was waist deep. He sighed, tilting his head back. His black dreads seemed to glint like an oil slick in the moonlight, and I watched the silver beams trace along the edge of his huge shoulders and broad back. The lump in my throat grew, and I swallowed nervously.

After a few moments, he bent down, splashing water over his arms, then his face and chest. I hesitantly moved closer, unsure what to do with myself. Just watching.

He seemed to sense my eyes, and turned at the waist to consider me. I dropped my gaze, turning back to the horses. Perhaps I should try to make some semblance of a camp. Even though we didn’t have much in the way of supplies.

The sound of splashing water diminished as he staggered onto the bank with a soft grunt. Frozen in place, I couldn’t find the strength to move away as he came up behind me. Despite the heat of his bare skin, I felt a few cool droplets of water hit my arms as he leaned over me.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped, then winced at the edge in my own voice.

He dropped his hands. “Alright… But you should wash up too. You’re covered in…”

I shot a look at him out of the corner of my eye as he dropped off. “In what?” I hissed, anger constricting my throat. “In blood? Does that bother you, bard?”

He snorted. “A little, yeah…” Then he stopped, and I saw him reach up and rub the back of his neck with a little wince. “I… I know this can’t be easy for you.”

I closed my eyes, fighting the burning tears within them. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”

There was a pause, then I nearly jumped out of my skin when his hand lightly touched my arm.

“No… You’re not…”

I jerked away from him, spinning to face him as I took a guarded step back. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m feeling.”

His big brown eyes seemed a little sad, even surrounded by puffy, bruised skin. I almost winced at the sight, but tightened my jaw instead. He shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly, rubbing his sore ribs with one big hand.

“Yeah, I don’t know you that well yet…” He met my gaze, and then reached out his hand, “But I know you’re not a killer.”

I looked down at his hand, then up at his face again. I shook my head, pursing my lips.

“..I am now… Twice over…” I saw his face grow a little confused, and I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Warrick.”

“Ah…” He took a little step closer, hand still extended, still waiting. “... You didn’t have to do that for me-”

“I did it for me!” I snarled, recoiling back another step. “I wanted him to suffer, as I have! I wanted him to feel all the pain-... I wanted him dead!”

Despite my words, my voice hitched at the end, and I shook my head vehemently. Warrick had been a horrible person. He had made my life and so many others a living nightmare. The Sheriff had been no different. He had killed his own wife, had tortured Balam for fun!

“The world is better off without them... I shouldn’t feel guilty about taking their lives.” I voiced my final thought on the matter aloud.

Balam closed the gap between us again. “But you do… And that’s a good thing.” His hand still hovered in the air between us, and I glanced down at it again. “Because it means you are nothing like them.”

I found myself shaking a little. I reached up and rubbed my forehead with my palm. Still staring at his offered hand…. Finally, I dropped my own hand into it.

Slowly, gently, he wrapped his huge fingers around it. As delicately as if I were a faberge egg. When I didn’t pull back, he stepped closer, and carefully reached out his other arm. I squeezed my eyes shut, and took the final step. Burying my face in his bruised and beaten chest.

His big arm wrapped around me, and he lifted up my captured hand to press against his sore lips. I nearly cried for how tenderly he treated me. My legs almost shook and gave beneath me. I took a deep breath, swallowing chestfuls of his scent. I didn’t like the mixture of blood with his naturally muskiness, and reached to wrap my own arm around him gently.

“It shouldn’t have been your burden to bear,” He murmured softly into my hair, “... I should have been the one to kill him. Both of them, if needed.”

I laughed sadly, tangling my fingers with his. “You couldn’t have done it.”

“I could have!” He scoffed, then stilled for a moment, “...For you. I could have.”

I couldn’t bear to look at him, so kept my face half buried against him as I spoke. “You are a gentle soul, Balam,” I sighed, turning my head slightly to rest my cheek against him, “You are kind, and forgiving, and understanding… You could never take a life. Not like that.”

“And you aren't?” He grumbled.

I shook my head, and his arms flexed around me gently. “I have always been cold, and distant. I am a broken thing-”

I felt his hand, dropping mine and cupping his huge fingers under my chin. I leaned back, allowing him to gently tilt my face up to his. I opened my eyes barely, but kept my gaze dropped. Unable to look at him.

“Don’t say that,” I felt his warm breath across my cheeks as he spoke, “Don’t ever say that, Iara. You are a lot of things. But you are not broken. You are not cold.” His thumb brushed away the fat tear rolling down my cheek. “Not to me.”

I chuckled sadly again. “To everyone else then.”

He sighed, exasperatedly. “That’s not what I meant. And besides, who cares what anyone else thinks?”

I reached up, placing my hand on top of his. “... I care what you think.”

“Well then,” I could hear the smile in his voice, “I think you are strong, and brave, and dangerously clever, and possibly the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my whole life.”

I managed to meet his eyes now, and his soft brown eyes gazed down at me. There was a hearth fire in their centers, so bright I could feel their warmth on my face as he looked down at me. He tenderly traced his thumb over my cheek again, cupping my jaw in his huge palm.

“Flatterer,” I scoffed, “You’re just trying to get in my pants now.” But amusement tickled the edge of my voice.

I saw those big brown eyes flick down to my lips briefly, and saw his own twitch into the tiniest of smirks when my own gaze found his lips as well. I almost rolled my eyes, but couldn’t hide the smile on my own lips.

“You’re not wearing pants.” His voice had grown husky.

I ran my opposite hand up his bare chest, skimming around his fresh injuries. He leaned in closer.

“No, I suppose I’m not.”

I closed my eyes again as his lips pressed lightly against mine. A warmth blossomed from his kiss, and wrapped me up in its delicate embrace. His tusks scraped against my cheeks painlessly as he worked his lips slowly in tune with mine. I felt my knees buckle, and I simply melted into him.

One big arm scooped gently under my knees, the other around my shoulders. Lifting me off the ground with a soft snort as he cradled me into his chest. I reached up, cupping his face with one hand, resting the other lazily on his shoulder. Finding myself in such mind numbing bliss. Completely unaware of him moving, or of anything else around us.

Suddenly, I felt myself falling. I shrieked loudly as I hit the water, sinking below the surface an inch until my bottom hit the river’s bed.

Sputtering, I scrambled back to my feet, wincing and whirling around in confusion. Balam stood over me, grinning like an absolute buffoon.

“You Bastard!” I shouted at him, still spitting water.

I shook a fist at him menacingly, but he only laughed. It shook his whole frame, and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“You were filthy. I said before you needed to wash up.”

I tried to push past him, furious. “My armor is soaked! You absolute ass!”

He scooped his arm around my waist as I tried to push past him. I would have wriggled in his grasp, but he quite efficiently pulled me up first. And planted another kiss right on my lips. I was so stunned, I remained silent even after he pulled back.

Chuckling, he waded out, placing my feet back on solid ground before going over to the hanging equipment, pulling down the horse blankets. He spread one on the ground, then began to shake out the other.

“What am I supposed to do now?” I snapped, finally finding my voice again.

He glanced at my angry scowl, smirking a little. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to go naked for a little while.”

I felt my cheeks go hot, and spun in mock anger to hide it. I stomped angrily around, gathering wood into a pile in a shallow pit I dug in the sandy shore. Once I had the fire started I hesitated, glancing back over my shoulder. Balam sat on the blanket, his big eyes watching me quietly. I saw the corners of his mouth twitch a little when he saw me glance at him.

I didn’t wait to see more, spinning back to the fire. I stood frozen for a long while, uncertain of myself. Then, slowly, hesitantly, I reached up and undid the buckles at my neck and under my arms. Careful to keep my back to him. I slid the already nearly dry armor off, hanging it on a branch near enough to the fire to feel it’s warmth but not so close as to worry about it catching a stray spark. Though the worn old iron and leather would not be easily kindling.

I reached for the belt at my waist next, my hands almost shaking as I slowly undid the clasp. I glanced down at my bare feet as I set my boots in the sand by the roots of the tree, then hung my metal and thick leather skirt beside my top. Behind me, I heard a soft shuffling. I stiffened as I heard his footsteps approaching. I felt his warmth behind me, and couldn’t suppress my quivering.

Then, I felt his big, warm hands on my arms, gently sliding up and down. I turned my head slightly, looking at his massive chest just behind my shoulders. I crossed my own arms over my chest a little self consciously.

“You know, I didn’t really think you’d go for that.” He mused, bending down so his hot breath was in my ear.

“Oh, shut up.” I grumbled embarrassedly, turning my head away from him.

I felt his smile as his lips grazed my neck, and felt my heart begin to race like a jackrabbit in my chest.

“Come on,” He breathed against my hair, slowly wrapping his arms around me, “Let’s try to get some rest.”

He led me gently back to the blanket spread on the ground. I saw his trousers in a heap beside it, and my cheeks burned hotter. He smoothed his hand over my back, between my shoulder blades, then slowly laid down, being sure to leave space beside him.

I couldn’t help my eyes darting down to his hips, but quickly brought them back up to find his lopsided grin waiting for me. He patiently lay there, his eyes slowly tracing over my bare body, waiting. Letting me make the decision to join him myself.

After a time, I did, dropping to my knees on the blanket beside him. He reached over and pulled the other blanket around us, and I slowly lay down in the crook of his arm. My nose wrinkled at the thick smell of horse that suddenly enveloped us.

“Not sure horse blanket is really how I imagined-”

“Beggers can’t be choosers,” he interrupted me with a soft chuckle.

But the blanket was warm, and he settled his arm gently around my shoulders. The bard gave a deep sigh, reaching up his opposite arm to pillow his own head.

“You know, I think the gods are laughing at us right now.”

I turned, resting my chin on his chest to look up at him. “Why?”

His lopsided grin grew a few molars. “Because here I am, beneath the open night sky, free for the first time in so many years I’ve lost count, with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in my arms….” He sighed regretfully, “And bugger it all if I’m in so much pain I can’t even do anything with you.”

I laughed, whole-heartedly, and felt myself relax further into his arms. “I’m sorry,” I blurted, unsure what else to say.

He laughed softly too, stroking his thumb up and down my arm. “You’ve got to be still hurting too, I imagine. Wounds like that don’t heal overnight.”

I nodded, tracing my fingers over his chest. “And yet I still managed to storm two keeps to rescue your ass.”

Balam scoffed, shaking his head. “Hey! Don’t try to guilt trip me into making love to you before I can be absolutely certain it’ll be the most mind blowing experience of your life!”

I felt a blush rising into my cheeks again at his words, and hid my smile by burying my face against him again.

“Someone has a high opinion of themselves.” I teased.

Another soft chuckle that rumbled beneath my cheek. “I’ll give you an opinion or two for yourself… but not tonight, eh?” He sighed, and I felt his muscles loosen around me. “Tonight I am in heaven just having you in my arms-” A few moments of peaceful silence passed- “...Naked.”

I smacked him lightly, and felt him chuckle again beneath me. I smiled too, settling myself into his arms. My heart thudded loudly in my chest, and my mind raced. But I felt very comfortable laying beside him. The most I could ever remember being.

“...Perhaps I could offer you a song, instead?” He murmured, and I felt his thick fingers stroking through my short hair.

I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent again. “I’d like that.”

He cleared his throat, brushing my hair back with his hand. Testing his lips and tongue momentarily. Then he began, hesitantly, softly.

“You’re the song, in the trees, when the wind blows. You’re a flower, you’re a river, you’re a rainbow….” I stiffened at the familiar words, my eyes slowly opening again, “I loved you, the first time, I saw you… And I always, will love you… “

As he dropped off, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. He rolled, tucking himself around me, bringing his hands up to my face.

“I’m sorry... “ He murmured softly, wiping them away with his thumbs. “Ever since you first sang it… I haven’t been able to get it out of my head…”

I leaned into his touch, sighing softly. “It’s ok…”

“You never told me where it’s from…”

I brushed my fingers over his hand still cupping my cheek. “... My mother used to sing it to me… before…”

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine. “... You said all you ever wanted when you were little was a family… I can’t give you much, but I can give you that… if you still want it…” He pressed his lip against my temple, pushing my hair back out of my face. “Maybe someday you can sing that song to our kids…”

I was shaking my head before he had even finished speaking. “I don’t want kids… not right now… I’m not sure if I’ll ever want them.”

He tilted my face up to look at him. “Your every wish is my command. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“But what do you want?”

“All I want is to see you happy.”

I tried to hide a smile by turning away, but he kept me gently cupped in his palms.

“You make me happy...” I told him shyly, “You’re the only family I need.”

He grinned that stupid, lopsided grin, and leaned down. Pressing his thick, warm lips against mine again. I reached up, tracing my hand over his square cheek. Pushing back his damp dreads and burying my hand in the thick mass of his hair.

We lay intertwined like that for a while, and when we finally pulled apart, it was with bliss in our eyes and heaven in our breath. I sighed contentedly, then settled against him with my head tucked against his chest.

“How about one more song?” He mused, his voice sounding sleepy.

I smirked into his skin, wriggling a little closer. Ever wary of his tenderized skin.

“I like the sound of your voice.” I whispered back.

I felt his lips against the top of my head, and then his own great sigh. His body relaxed around me, and I felt safe and warm in my own little cocoon.

“I thought of this one when I first met you,” He murmured against my hair.

I nodded, waiting patiently for the soft humming of honeybees to rise in his chest once more. Already starting to doze off.

“She’s bitter sweet, she knocks me off of my feet; but I can’t help myself, I don’t want anyone else; She’s a mystery, she’s too much for me; but I keep coming back for more…. She’s just the girl I’m looking for…”

...

THE END.

#orc boyfriend #orcs #orc bard #orc #enemies to lovers #The bard's bounty #OC #update #just the girl #monster boyfriend #exophilia #terato #slow burn #romance

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missamyrisa2 · 1 year

Note

Hi miss Amy😊, im long time reader bit this is my first time asking for something😅. I love your teasing SOOOO MUCH that i just cant resist so im blushing all over hahaha. So i just want to ask you if you can TICKLE and TEASE me sooo much, like you never stop tickling and teasing me😳. I would like if you got long black nails, and tickle me only with your fingers😅. My sweet spots are ribs, sides and stomach😁. Btw i got fetish on tickling because of you🙄😳🖤🖤

Oooh~ sweet one~ did I really give you a tickle fetish? My gosh, I am ever sooo flattered by that. And it makes me want to tickle you more~<3

I'm going to positively overwhelm you with sensation. You can giggle and blush all you like. It's still going to tickle. I love when you squirm like that, all helpless like you're a lil bug on my web ~ and you sort of are ~ because my long dark nails are going to just eat all that ticklish skin up ~ How perfect for you to be all wrapped like that with colorful scarves on your arms and legs, a big sweet colorful cocoon just opened on your midsection all for me. Why, I haven't even touched you yet and your belly is so twitchy and bouncy~! What if I just bloooow like this ~ little muah breeezes on that soft sweet tum ~

Whooop~ here come my nails, they're gonna get youuu~ whooopps nope~ nope nope~ missed your belly. Oooh they're just flying around, what's gonna happen? What's gonna happen? Are you ticklish? Ooooo so close that time, right over your sidessss ~ annnnnd nope nope nopee~ but yes yes yes yesssss tickle tickle tickle~ wiggly nails all for these cute sideeess and your belllly and your riiiibs~ how many cute ticklish ribbies do you have my ticklish lil babeh~ are you my ticklish baby? Ticklish babe? Mmmh? Is that your name? Come on, speak up ~ how does it make you feel when I tickle you? Do you like my nice long nails? How often do you think about having a wiggly tickly nail in your bellybutton? Does this tickle? My nail right in your navel~ yes, your cute twitchy button ~ I think we have to probe all the way down oh yes we doooo~

Why yes that's my soft hair on you now ~ I just needed to snuggle up a bit~ do you like my outfit? How about feeling my soft outfit on your ticklish sensitive body? Mmmhmm~ Uh-huh~ Aww, so sweeet. Here's some kissies for your cute cheeks and neck~ muuuah muah muah muahhhh~<3

Awwww my sweet tickle pet, you're so blushy! Are you my blushy baby baby? How pink can we make those cheeks? As pink as your pink tummy? Did my nails do that? How does it feel? On a scale from one to ten, how much does it tickle when I strum your ribbies like sooo and pinch your sides like soo~ Mmmh? Yeah? No? Tickle tickle? How about coochie coo? Or maybe goochie goochie goo? Which makes you giggle more? Let's test it out ~ Come on now, don't be silly and laugh at this experiment, this is for the science. Dark nails fluttering, and smiles over my baby, and we gooo coochie coochie coooo~ mmmhmm yeah! and now we goochie goochie gooo~ ahh yes, I'm gonna kitchie koo youuu! Kitchie kitchie koooOoo. You can't escape this precious, you're gonna writhe and squirm alllll sweetly and my nails can dance on this lovely belly until we get all those giggles out~<3

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kunderdogs · 5 years

Text

Making Out With VAV

Let me start off by saying I've been into VAV since June 2018 and they're coming to my city in a few months. I will fucking die when I see them okay. On an unrelated note the photos with them are like $40 each and if you want one with each member its $250 (which is more expensive than the vvip tickets!) Ugh should I get them all or do 1? I'd feel terrible if one member's line for pics was shorter than another ya know UGH I'M GOING THRU IT PLS HELP ME

I got carried away with some of the members but tried to keep it short so I'm sorry others are longer than some. ^^' I’m not even Baron biased but why does he hurt me so...I’m so sorry Lou.

Thank you to the anon who requested this. As you all can tell, I have a weakness for VAV so I love writing them. - Cookie

St. Van:

I've deadass dreamed about making out with St. Van (who hasn't? you're lying if you said you didn't). He's such a fucking tease LIKE WHY SIR?

Anyway, I can imagine making out with him is ALWAYS hot and heavy, no matter where you are.

He'd much rather make out in his room or your place, where no one can interrupt because 11/10 times it's going to escalate to new heights.

Honestly, he has no preference when it comes to a "make out style". If you want it short and sweet, he's down. Rough with lots of tongue? Sign him up!

Doesn't like much dialog when he's in the mood, he'll catch your face in his hands and open mouth kiss you so you didn't get any mixed signals.

Likes to be dominate no matter what but he likes when you're sitting on his lap.

His hands, without fail, will always be in your hair - stroking, pulling, pushing it from your face.

If it's up, NOT FOR LONG 'cause he'll take it out the ponytail

That's on hair pulling kinks

Be prepared for lots of noise.

He's a moaner and WILL moan in your mouth if you nibble his lip or try to take over the dominate role.

He'll find it so so so hot when you're rough with him - his unoccupied hand will grip your thigh and force you to connect your bodies fully and he'll definitely grind up into you, pushing your hips down into him.

There's absolutely nothing gentle about making out with St. Van.

He won't bruise you but ALMOST.

He'll give you bedroom eyes when you pull away and smirk when he notice how turned on you are.

Leaning back into the couch with his head tilted to the side and breathing just a bit hard, he'll lick his lips disrespectfully. "I like when you're on top, baby girl, but I think we should take this to the bed, hm?"

(FUCK I GTG HOW AM I GONNA LOOK THIS MAN IN THE EYES WHEN I MEET HIM? IDK LORD HELP ME)

Baron:

Ok my sweet baby Baron.

I feel like he's a low key freak.

BUT A GENTLEMAN.

The first couple of make outs are sweet and precious.

He's very loving and kind so he won't be rough with you, like never.

Is so shy the first time, but will initiate it about maybe 3 weeks in the relationship - sooner if you're flirty.

Doesn't know what the hell you're comfortable with in this new step of your relationship. Picture this:

It's been a few weeks since you two made it official, even though you went through a month of the talking phase. You were flirty, but Chungheop was still shy with you on certain things. Today, the two of you had a fun-filled day at the amusement park. He had been eyeing you with heart eyes all day and you to him as well. It was hard not to, especially when you have a boyfriend as cute as him! As you were driving back to Seoul, the rain came down in buckets but Baron didn't want to go back to the dorms just yet. With cute puppy-eyes he asked you if he could come over to hang out for a few hours. There was absolutely no way for you to resist that.

So here you were, walking back into the living room after changing out of those ridiculously tight skinny jeans and into your pajama shorts. You traded your cute blouse for one of Baron's large shirts. He was lounging on the couch, scrolling through Netflix for something to kill the time with. Nothing was particularly catching his eye though. He didn't have to wait long until you flopped directly next to him and snuggled into his side.

As he took in your attire, his heart was pounding a thousand times a minute. You were too cute! When you two mutually decided on a Rom-Com, he got bored pretty quickly and shyly kissed your cheek.

With a smile, you turned to see him gazing at you. He leaned closer to your lips and hesitated only for a second before closing the distance. Softly, slowly would mold his lips to yours. Chungheop tilted his head to the side, softly exhaling while the arm on the back of the couch comes to the back of your neck.

Won't introduce tongue but will groan when you do it first.

Heavy breathing and a whole lot of gentle caressing.

His fingers slide down your cheek to cup your jaw before trailing to your cleavage only to settle on your hip.

He won't have a tight grip, it's always light but never in the same place for very long - boy has wondering hands.

Typically they're gripping and stroking.

Will quietly groan if you deepen the kiss or start touching his skin (neck, stomach).

His lips aren't ever rough with you

He'll like to take his time tasting you.

He's a nibbler/biter so expect him to bite gently on your lips a few times.

Also he'll pull some freaky moves out of nowhere like sucking on your tongue and smile cheekily when you moan into him.

Likes to keep you on your toes so some times, just to hear you gasp in surprise, he'll throw you on the bed/couch with a playful smirk.

Overall, he’s very sweet to you. “You look so cute like that, baby.”

Ace:

A whole tease. That's it. That's the post.

Jk. But Wooyoung is a big fan of a foreplay, like this is where he thrives!

He knows how to fuck with you too, so he'll initiate the kisses and will make them so fluttering and lingering that you'll be on the verge of trying to smash his lips to yours.

He'll pull away and be like "Uh-uh don't be so impatient, baby. We got all night~"

Might even laugh a little bit if you were getting frustrated with all his teasing.

He's the type to dominate everything about making out but it's in a sensual way (?)

like not rough or aggressive at all.

Will sneak his tongue in to spice it up after a few minutes just to catch you off guard.

Tongue

LOTS AND LOTS OF IT

French kissing

With a lot of moans from him - he’s pretty vocal but he’s not nearly as loud as you

Likes to suck - on any part of skin on your body. He’s not picky

Sloppy kisses since he has less self control than you think he does

He'll pick up the pace only to slow it down again and smile when you make noises into his mouth.

Lives for the moment that you finally break under all the teasing and yank his hair.

Ace likes to catch you off guard a lot so he'll sneak up on you when you're distracted and spin you around just to give you kisses.

He's a romantic at heart so back hugs that turn into making out on the kitchen counter are very common for you two.

Wooyoung wouldn't want to make-out in public spaces but a hello and goodbye peck when he's in disguise is alright.

He'll be mortified if you were in the middle of a heated make out session, his hands slowly creeping up your shirt only for the members to burst in.

He would be soooooo red in the face lol so yeah y'all would have to be ALONE ALONE to have any real freaky time.

Ayno:

(first off, how dare I use this gif)

Has zero self control when it comes to his s/o

As mentioned previously, Ayno is an ass man

So if you want him to jump your bones, just wear a flattering pair of skinny jeans or a tight skirt

He’ll literally follow you around like a puppy

Lots of gulping, narrowed eyes stuck to your hips and ass as you walked in front of him

When it comes to making out, he’s the same way

A kiss is never just one and done

NO MA’AM, he wants all the smoke

He knows you like how his lips are so he goes in for the kill immediately

No build up

He’ll catch your wrist and spin you to face him

As soon as you notice his body pressed into you, his lips are pushing and pulling you to fold into him

Who are you to deny him that?

Doesn’t waste any time with teasing - his tongue is already putting in work

Likes to cradle your head and tilt it up to him

Wants to hear you whimper and moan breathlessly into him

Always likes to break the kiss to stare at you with an intensity that has your blood boiling

But is soooo playful

Might smirk and leave you hanging

Some times he’ll purposefully attack your mouth when you two really shouldn’t be kissing like when you went to his parent’s house

Enjoys the thrill of getting touchy when you guys could be caught any moment

A little bit of an exhibitionist

He’ll tickle you or nuzzle you to cut some of the sexual tension or say something to make you giggle as he’s pressing kisses on your cheeks

Looooves to handle you if you’d let him

REALLY loves when you handle him too!!!

That one time when you pushed him on the couch, straddled him and yanked his hair, he swore that he was in heaven.

He’ll easily submit to you if you want him too

But he’ll make you work for it

Licking your lips, neck

Yoonho will beg you to let him put hickeys on you and when you agree, he’ll jump on you that second

Jacob:

HOt, heavy, messy, passionate all the time with no build up or warning for you at all.

Jacob likes to keep you guessing so he'll initiate a make-out just about damn near everywhere and at any given time.

He honestly doesn't care whose in the room, unless it was like yours or his family.

The members and other staff?

Yeah, doesn't matter - if he wants to kiss you then he will.

If they don't wanna see it, they better leave because he won't stop unless you want him to ;)

Making out isn’t just kissing for him - it’s a prelude to the nasty-ness that’s about to come

So if you try to break the kiss to go answer your phone, he’s thoroughly offended and will drag you back to his lips

The type to walk in, no words, and catch the back of your neck with his large hand

Likes to make out with you against surfaces with him standing up

He’ll tell you he thinks it’s really hot when you wrap your legs around his waist

A bit of a size kink because he loves to corner you and pin you to the wall/bed and hover over you

You...have absolutely no complaints so...

He’s the dominate role even in making out

But just so gentle and loving that it makes you swoon

Rarely makes a sound other than breathing heavily, humming or growling

Face grabbing!!!!!

100% of the time will grind into you

Since his body is always smashed against yours, he doesn’t need to move much for you two to feel the friction

Has a habit of biting his lip and looking to the sky to grab his composure

Likes your attention on him so he’ll grab your jaw

Playful but not as Ayno

Chuckles when he accidentally tickles you but easily refocuses your attention to the matter at hand:

His tongue in your mouth

Lou:

Shy baby won’t initiate any make-outs until later in the relationship

Probably like 3-4 months into it

Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like making out

Exactly the opposite actually

Hosung loves the intimacy of making out with his partner and finds it really romantic

Is very soft about the entire thing

Nearly melts into a puddle when you kiss him out of nowhere, literal hearts in his eyes

Light pecks - just lips pressed against each other the first few seconds then he’ll slowly move and close his eyes

Hardly any freaky shit until he’s more comfortable with you

When he is comfortable, he’s still very sweet and loving but will be a bit of a tease

Likes to pull away from you and watch you chase his lips

Will play innocent when you get upset that he won’t move against you

Makes you work for it ‘cause he’s a bit of a brat

His hand kink will show during make outs

As soon as your hands touch him under his shirt, he’s a mess

Loud, deep groans and sucking his breath

Wants to watch you so he’ll love it when you’re in his lap

Lots of slow, teasing kisses until he can feel you grind into him

“Do that again.”

Knows how deep his voice can get so when he figures out it’s a turn on for you, he won’t shut up

“If you keep kissing me like that, I’ll have to take you in the room.”

“Unless you want me to strip you right here on the couch?”

“Princess, you’re eager hm? Mhm, I like that~”

You try your best to shut him up but the more you do, the more he’ll do also

He doesn’t prefer boobs over ass or vice versa but he tends to find his hands are constantly caressing your ass and waist a lot

Is hardly ever rough with you but will appreciate a few bites and sharp grips from your hands

Ziu:

Playful then turns hot and heavy.

Heejun likes to goof off so making out will start off very innocent.

You two could be just talking and laughing and he'll strike- tickling you and tackling you onto the couch.

Eventually, it'll die down and as you were giggling and telling him he was crushing you under his weight, he'd be too busy staring at you to hear you.

In a split second, he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss - something to convey what he was thinking at the moment.

He had no intentions of going past that but when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, thin fingers stroking the back of his neck and down his back, it sends shivers down his spine.

Ziu knows how big he is, and he is very cautious of you as well so he won't be rough with you unless there's a special reason.

Usually, his hands stay on your body, running patterns down your sides but they'll always settle on the swell of your hips or your ass.

He'll definitely man-handle you a bit - pulling you on to him, pushing you into the couch/bed.

Some times he forgets how strong he is so his kisses suddenly turn very passionate, and in turn kind of sloppy.

Open mouth kisses with lots of tongue clashing.

Likes a little bit of pain

Your nails scratching his back, yanking on his hair - as long as there’s no blood

He's pretty vocal, groaning and whispering sweet words in your ear.

Dirty talk is only for rough sex so most times he'll be just a big ball of love and sensual, lingering kisses.

Then, when you want to deepen the kiss, he'll leave you hanging out of literally nowhere and look at you like you're crazy for trying to get freaky in the dorm living room when any of his members could walk in.

"We're not doing any of what you're thinking on this couch, little lady."

Finds it hilarious how sexually frustrated he can get you though, so he'll leave you hanging a lot more than you want lol.

Will probably laugh in your face when you pout and curse him for turning you on with no intention to finish

#vav #vav reaction #vav scenario #st. van #lee geumhyuk #baron #choi chunghyeop #ace #jang wooyoung #ayno #noh yoonho #jacob #jang peng #lou #kim hosung #ziu #park heejun #didn't spell check

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

You Again (3)

Ok so as y’all have probably noticed I’ve been very much in my Chris feels lately and I just want to apologize really quick for the spam lol. Eventually the stories for him won’t be as frequent, however when that will be idk 😅. Hopefully you guys don’t mind though and again sorry for the spam!

Pairing: fratboi!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None💕!

“Ok so we talked about the basics like position and function, now I think we should add if there’s any diseases that affect it or what could happen if it’s damaged like with Phineas Gage and the iron rod,” Chris explains taking turns looking between you and his laptop screen.

“Oh, um yea that sounds good,” you respond slightly caught off guard from how well everything was currently going. You had your notes lying in front of you to make sure you were putting the correct information on the slides, but you honestly didn’t need them from Chris recalling everything, word for word, from memory as if he was a human textbook.

“What, surprised that I actually know something sweetheart?”

“No, I know you’re smart and have since we were little it’s just...you say and do dumb stuff sometimes, which can make some question that.”

Chuckling as he places his hand over his chest; you find yourself giggling as you’re immediately brought back to when you were kids. Even then, you thought his laugh was adorable and even tried to copy it, which Chris took the wrong way and thought you were making fun of him.

It was your first fight and you practically begged him as tears streamed down your face to understand that it was a good thing.

Seeing you cry then made him cry, and of course after hearing about two distraught kids on the playground, your teacher took both of you aside to try to figure out what happened. Long story short, it was a very eventful recess.

“Wris sing!,” his niece, Alana, excitedly announces running up to her uncle’s leg.

“Not right now Stink I’m working on something ok? Maybe later.”

“Tay,” she sighs, disappointment over her face as Chris picks her up to rest her head on his shoulder while he continues to type.

“Wait sing? You sing?” Sitting back in your seat with arms crossed over your chest, an amused expression covers your face.

“I mean not on the regular, she just likes this song and wants people to sing it with her so I’ll do it sometimes. But we’re working now so don’t get your hopes up about a full routine.”

“Actually I think we deserve a little break from all this excruciating work we’ve done. Don’t you Alana?”

“Yea!! Wris sing!”

“Yea c’mon Wris,” you smirk as she pulls his hand towards the play room. A large sigh escaping his pink lips, his eyes stay glued to you for a few extra seconds as if thinking of something before smiling at his niece as he stands from his chair to follow behind.

“You know what? Why don’t we have Y/N sing with us too?”

“Yay!!”

“Oh no, you don’t want to hear me sing. I’m sure you’d rather want your uncle.”

“Nonsense! The more the merrier right Stink?” Grabbing your hand, he leads you to the light pink playroom littered with various toys along the cream colored carpeted floor and books perched on white shelves lining the wall.

Turning on the small circular speaker sat on one of the shelves, upbeat music begins to fill the room as she bounces up and down clapping her hands. Walking up to his niece as he sings, he takes her small hand and twirls her around making her giggle.

“I'm telling you, darling

The minute you're calling

I'll be there in a hurry,

No matter how far

It could be to the stars

Yeah, I'll be there, don't you worry,

With you I stay fly

To the sky

With you I stay fly

To the sky”

Smiling as you watch them dance, you don’t know what surprises you more the fact that he actually sounded decent or that he was capable of doing something so cute and not annoying for once. Skipping over to you, Alana grabs your fingers pulling you over to their small group.

“Dance too!,” she giggles joining your hand with Chris’ as she holds onto both of your free hands making a circle with the three of you.

Lightly twisting along with her, all that can be heard over the music is all of your laughter and the occasional small thumping of her tiny feet hitting the floor after you and Chris lift her in the air.

Bending down, he picks Alana up holding her on one arm before twirling you with the other while she excitedly squeals. Making your way back around to face him, you momentarily lose your balance causing your body to press against his as you try to avoid stumbling.

“Careful sweetheart. You know you were always a bit clumsy,” he smirks making you roll your eyes before laughing at yourself.

“And what’s going on here?,” a voice asks from the doorway startling the both of you.

“Mommy!” Running up to the woman with similar features to Chris, Alana jumps into her arms kissing her on the cheek.

“Hey sweetie! Did you have fun with your uncle and his friend?”

“Sarah this is Y/N, we’re working on a project together so I invited her over.”

“Wait Y/N?! Oh my gosh it’s been so long!,” she smiles walking over to where you and Chris were standing. “I remember when you were a little girl playing with this pain over here. How’ve you been?”

“Good, just ready to graduate and be done with school.”

“Yea I bet, but you guys only have a month left so you’ll be done before you know it. Do you know what you want to do after?”

“Yea I’m hoping to be a nurse in the hospital or one of the clinics but then again we’ll see what happens.”

“Juice pwease!,” Alana interrupts with a smile making the three of you giggle.

“Alright sweetie it’s coming up. Were you guys gonna stay for dinner?”

“Nah maybe next time, I got a meeting to go to in a couple hours so we should get going. Bye stink!,” he answers tickling her sides. “Bye adult stink.”

“Be glad I’m holding a child right now,” she glares smacking his arm as he laughs. “Bye Y/N it was nice seeing you again and good luck with everything!”

“Bye pwetty!!,” Alana adds waving her hand.

“Thanks Sarah and bye Alana! Be good ok? Unless you’re with your uncle Chris then do whatever you want,” you smile making both of them giggle as Chris rolls his eyes.

———

“Trying out for Fast and Furious 13 are we?,” you ask as you enter the restaurant.

“Calm down I wasn’t going that fast.”

“Your foot was pressed so hard on the pedal I thought it was gonna go through the floor and you’d run the car yourself like Fred Flinstone.”

“And yet we still made it safe so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about it sweetheart,” he smirks following you to the register.

“Aww look at you two! Me and my Harold fuss like that all the time,” a middle aged woman with glasses sitting at the bar smiles. “How long have you been dating?”

“Oh we’re-,”

“Six months and 10 days. But it feels longer which is crazy,” he interrupts putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Well I wish you guys many more months of happiness, and might I add you are a beautiful couple.”

“Thank you! I hope so too because heaven knows how I’d be if I lost her.”

“Yea I’d hate to be without him,” you fake smile as he kisses your temple. Collecting the last of her things, she hangs her purse on her shoulder before giving you both a final wave as she walks out the door.

“New rule,” you speak elbowing him in the side causing a small grunt to escape his lips before he chuckles. “Never do any of what you just did again. Now I need to disinfect my face when I get back to the room.”

“Jeez so violent,” he smirks rubbing his side. “This is how you show appreciation when I’m treating you to food?”

“Correction you treated me to a ride, but I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, I’m just trying to pay you back for helping.”

“And I appreciate that but there’s no argument, I can get my own food,” you sarcastically smile.

“Yea there wasn’t an argument until you started one, like always,” he answers copying your expression.

“I don’t always start arguments-,”

“Oh my gosh Chris hi!” Turning towards the register, you see a familiar looking slender girl around your age carrying two red cups. Red hair pulled up in a ponytail, she rushes around the counter excitedly smiling as she places the cups down before wrapping her arms around his neck giving him a quick, yet very extra, hug. “That pool party was insane!”

“Ahh that’s where I’ve seen her from,” you thought as you stood listening to their conversation.

“I know right, we definitely gotta have another one soon. Oh Jessica this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jessica, you guys have probably seen each other around campus.”

“Yea I think I’ve-,”

“Hmm no I don’t think so, but anyway yes to another one!,” she interrupts immediately directing her attention back to Chris and making you silently laugh to yourself in disbelief. “Especially towards the end of the semester like maybe even after graduation!”

“You know that’s a good idea, I’ll talk to the boys about it and see what they say.”

“If it’s coming from you I’m sure they’ll say yes. Just make sure I’m invited.”

“Of course!,” he smiles making her blush as she twirls her hair with her index finger. Making eye contact with someone behind you, she removes herself from her trance before picking up the two cups now saturated with dew.

“Excuse me, I have to take these to a table really quick. I’ll take your order when I get back,” she smiles as she passes the both of you, purposely leaning more into Chris so she could graze her arm against his.

“Well she was nice,” you speak sitting in one of the empty barstools as you wait for her to return.

“Am I sensing a bit of jealousy?,” he asks propping one foot on the lower bar of your stool as he grabs the back railing, fingertips occasionally touching your back.

“You know what, yes I am jealous. Of the fact that she doesn’t have to be near you right now while I’m stuck here looking at your face.”

“First stalking now staring at my face?! I have to say I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be because I definitely have not, and will not, do any of those. Now I’m sure your little flirt buddy back there would happily do those for you.”

“I was not flirting, that was called being nice and charming.”

“Oh please, I was just about to ask should I leave with all her hair twirling and your ‘of course you’re invited, why wouldn’t I invite all available girls in the state?’,” you mock immitating both of their voices while scrolling through Instagram.

“Clearly you don’t know how flirting works so why don’t I demonstrate on you then?”

Looking up from your phone you’re met with crystal blue eyes peering down at you making you realize just how close you two actually were.

Inches from his chest, it was almost as if you could feel his cologne radiate off his skin with the slightest movement he’d make. His gaze becoming more intense the longer your eyes are locked together, it feels like you’ve been that way for minutes instead of only a few seconds as you slightly shift in your seat.

Even trying to talk now seemed impossible from your throat feeling like the Sahara desert at high noon.

“Huh would you look at that, she doesn’t have a comeback,” he smirks turning his attention from you to the sports headlines from ESPN scrolling across the television mounted high in the corner.

And just like that, Christopher “Party King” Evans had left you dumbfounded after taking away your power of always having the last word.

Taglist: @secretmysteriousperson @crushed-pink-petals @honeychicana @fumbling-fanfics @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @itshinothey @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chris evans #chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader

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lesetoilesfous · 4 years

Note

if you're still taking prompts, fenders b8 + b2 from the nsfw prompt list pls :3 (preferably anders giving fenris a full-body massage, with lots of fluff that maybe turns into smut?)

Helloooo! Thank you for a lovely prompt, I hope this is something like what you wanted!!

(If you want me to write you a dragon age ficlet, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Fenders

Characters: Fenris, Anders

Tags: established relationship, self-esteem issues, past abuse, justice is here in theory but Anders has put a sock on the door of their combined consciousness, so he doesn’t make an appearance, angst and fluff, ended up being way more angst than I intended, apologies!

“This is ridiculous, mage.” Fenris does not seem capable of keeping the smile from his voice, and he blushes as he says it, dark cheeks tickled red in the candlelight as he lies back on the bed. Anders takes a self-indulgent moment to ogle him, openly, as the muscles of his abdomen flex and he falls with the same perfect control that he brings to everything he does onto his back on the blankets. Fenris’ flush deepens, and he hits him gently with a pillow. “You are ridiculous. No one is as beautiful as you pretend to find me.”

Which brought them to the topic at hand. Anders catches the pillow and gently tugs it out of Fenris’ grip, tossing it onto the ground, careful to avoid the candles he’s set up around the bed. The sweet smell of sandalwood and jasmine is warm in the air around them, and the light is gold and flickering as it paints the wooden walls of their bedroom. Outside, in the forest, the trees sigh like the ocean, shivering in the wind. Anders gets up onto the mattress, kneeling at the end of the bed on the thick, white woven wool blanket, running one hand up the strong, sculpted line of Fenris’ leg. “Still don’t believe me, then?”

Fenris looks away from him, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth that he tries to hide as his hair splays against the pillow behind his head like starlight. He stares up at the rough, dark wooden rafters. “I believe that you find me attractive. I do not believe anyone is as attractive as you say I am. And if such a person did exist, that person would not be me.”

Anders hums, and presses a very soft kiss to a small scar on Fenris’ knee. Tal Vashoth, if he remembered correctly. A stray arrow that would have felled an ordinary warrior. Fenris had fought on anyway. He hadn’t even made a sound when Anders removed the thing. Just squeezed his hand, and thanked him roughly when it was done.

Anders shuffles back down the bed, all but prostrating himself to press a soft kiss to the top of Fenris’ foot and the lines of lyrium there. Fenris’ breath shudders out of him, and Anders moves between his legs, waiting until Fenris lifts himself up onto his elbows to look down at him.

“I beg to disagree.” Anders kisses Fenris’ left ankle, then, gently stroking his calf before moving to kiss his right. Then he sits up and picks up the small, brown glass bottle of oil he’d left beside their bed. In the eaves, pigeons coo low and soft as they settle for the evening.

“Must you make everything such a production?” Fenris’ fingers trail softly along the lyrium on his chest as he asks the question, and he doesn’t look at Anders, cheeks and chest dark with his blush.

“I must.” Anders answers, with a grin, rubbing the smoky, spiced oil between his palms until it’s warm. Gently, he picks up Fenris’ foot, pressing a firm kiss to the heel of it, and the ball, before sucking lightly on each of his toes. Anders bends to kiss Fenris’ ankle again as he begins to gently, firmly massage his foot. Fenris sighs, and Anders grins down at him from where he’s kneeling at the end of the bed.

“You are the most impossibly beautiful person I’ve ever met. And considering that I’m including the Hero of Ferelden, King Theirin, Zevran Arainai, Isabela, Varric Tethras and Marian Hawke in that assessment, you should be very flattered.”

On his back, painted gold by the candlelight, Fenris laughs and presses his hands against his face. “I am flattered, mage. I am also - ah,” Anders grins, and gently rubs the same circle he’d massaged before on the back of Fenris’ calf. Fenris’ chest heaves, his hands falling from his face to curl into the white cotton sheets further up the bed, squeezing them tightly. After a moment, he finishes, breathless, “Skeptical.”

Anders hums, thoughtfully, and presses a series of kisses to the curve of Fenris calf, ducking to press a long kiss to the soft skin at the back of his knee, before returning to the small silver line of the arrow scar. As he moves to give the same treatment to Fenris other leg, pouring a little more oil onto his hands, he asks conversationally, “Do you think I’m lying to you?”

Fenris frowns, though the expression eases as Anders’ presses a long kiss to his toe. “N-no. I think. You are telling me what I want to hear.”

Anders huffs, and Fenris pulls his foot back for a moment, laughing light and high as a child. Anders’ heart stutters, and he stops, catching Fenris’ foot firmly between his hands. “Wait. Are you ticklish?” Fenris tries to glare at him, but there’s still a smile lingering around the corner of his lips.

“No.”

Anders’ grin widens, and he squeezes Fenris foot gently. “You are. Well. We’ll have to return to that later.” He waggles his eyebrows, and Fenris snorts, grinning as he turns his head away from him and Anders begins to massage his other foot. “Seriously though,” Anders murmurs, kissing up the line of Fenris’ calf, brushing his nose against the thick coarse hair on his leg, “You’re gorgeous. And before you say it, it’s not the lyrium.” He kisses Fenris’ knee, and begins to massage his calf, gently bending his leg. “It’s like….A sculptor couldn’t make you this perfect. Your skin is so,” Anders bends to nuzzle at Fenris’ calf and kiss him again, “so soft, and warm, and you smell like….I don’t have words for it. Like lyrium but also like, dust and sweat and leather.”

“Most of those are not good things.” Fenris murmurs and Anders shakes his head, moving up the bed to kneel between Fenris’ legs. Far off in the woods, a distant wolf howls at the moon.

“No, but they are when it’s you. And even if it wasn’t, trust me, I’ve never had a lover who smells this good.” Anders runs his hand up Fenris’ thigh, and presses a firm kiss into the soft give of it. “You’re just. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. You’re perfect. I feel like I’m dreaming, every time I kiss you.”

Anders sets down the oil and dips to lower himself over Fenris’ hips, kissing along the v of muscle that leads up to his side. Tentatively, Fenris’ hand falls to stroke his hair, and Anders sighs and tilts his head into his touch. “If I shut my eyes and try to imagine the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, all I see is you. You’re like...music.”

“Music.” Fenris repeats, flatly, and Anders’ face burns, but he presses a long kiss to the wide, ragged pink skin of a burn on Fenris’ side before he sits up to meet his eyes.

“Yes, music.” Anders runs his hand up over the planes of Fenris’ belly, splaying his fingers against his chest, and pressing gently into the soft tissue of his breast. His fingertips trail through soft, dark hair, and his thumbs run over Fenris dark, soft nipples. Fenris breath catches, and Anders grins and bends to kiss one nipple, tenderly catching it between his teeth before kissing it again and doing the same to the other. Fenris’ hand tightens and relaxes in his hair as he does it, and Anders moves to press a line of kisses down from Fenris’ sternum to his belly button. Fenris’ legs fall loose and relaxed either side of him against the bed, and the air is rich and faintly hazy with candle-smoke and oil.

Anders sits up, and catches Fenris’ hand when it falls from his head. Gently, he kisses the heel of his palm, and the inside of his wrist, and each of his fingers, before pouring a little more oil into his hand and beginning to massage Fenris’ palm. Fenris sighs, and lets his head fall back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut. Anders speaks softly as his hand slips up Fenris’ arm, gently massaging the muscle of his forearm and bicep. “You’re like music. Every line of you falls into every other. It’s like you’re...a symphony. You’re all balance, and harmony. Every part of you is meant to be what it is, shaped the way that it is. Looking at you feels like listening to the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard.” Anders ducks, and presses a kiss to the inside of Fenris’ elbow, feeling the massage oil stick to his lips before he brushes up to the warm, generous curve of Fenris’ bicep. He shuts his eyes, and presses his nose against the firm warmth of Fenris’ arm. “A song so beautiful it makes you want to weep.”

Fenris is quiet, then. Far off, there’s the high call of some strange Rivaini bird Anders doesn’t recognise. Night has fallen truly now, and the shadows between the candles are long and deep. Anders presses a kiss to Fenris’ shoulder before moving to his other arm. Fenris’ thumb gently strokes his hand and Anders pauses, looking down at his lover. The light of a candle glitters gold against the tears on Fenris’ cheeks. Anders stops, pressing Fenris’ hand between his.

“Love? Are you alright?”

Fenris shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut and heaving a great breath into his chest before letting it go in a noisy rush. Anders moves, brushing his hair out of his eyes and waiting for an answer. Fenris’ hand squeezes his, tightly, and Anders watches in distress as more tears run down Fenris’ cheeks.

After a moment, Fenris blinks away the tears and looks up at Anders. His eyelashes are damp and dark and long around the summer green of his eyes. “It’s fine, amatus. It is only -” Fenris stops, and swallows, and his hand tightens around Anders’ as he looks away from him. Fenris breathes again, and Anders waits and watches him, anxiously. After a moment he speaks, roughly. “I cannot remember anyone ever saying such a thing to me and meaning it, before.” Fenris frowns, and Anders runs his thumb over the back of his hand. “People have wanted me, certainly. Used me. Spoken in great detail about the ways in which I was ‘made’ to be used.”

Fenris’ expression twists, and Anders sits back on the bed, giving him space as he sits up. Fenris bends his legs and rests his arms against them, still holding Anders’ hand. Around their house, the wind rushes through the night and runs howling into the trees. Fenris breathes, and sobs, pressing his face into his arm for a moment before he turns to Anders and offers him a small smile, cheeks wet with tears. “But no one has ever said it as if I were a person. As if they loved me. As if they thought I could be loved.” Fenris’ voice breaks.

Anders swallows down his own heartache, and squeezes his lover’s hand, raising their joined hands and his other in a gesture of surrender. “You caught me. Guilty as charged.” Anders stops, then, and feels something heavy and painful pressing up against his lungs with the force of everything he feels when he speaks. “I can’t imagine a world in which you couldn’t be loved, Fenris. I don’t think it exists.”

Fenris starts to smile, then, and it breaks into another sob, and Anders gives in at last to the urge to pull him into his arms and hold him, tightly, cupping the back of his head as he cries. Gently, Anders presses a kiss to the corner of Fenris’ temple, lips tickled by the soft strands of his hair. “I love you, Fenris. Please believe that.” Anders laughs a little, even as he feels his own tears spill over and begin to fall down his cheeks. “I love you so much it hurts. I can’t do anything else.”

Fenris pulls back, then, and presses a kiss to Anders cheek, before giving another to his lips and pressing their foreheads together. “I know, amatus. I love you, too.”

The candles around them flicker in light and shadow against the walls, painting them red and yellow as if the wood is burning. Far off, a distant wolf calls into the night.

After a moment, another answers it.

#dadwc #fenders #da2 #fenris #anders #anon #my fic

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