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ray-ray-writings · 3 years

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No Worries-Technoblade

#256 and 257 from this prompt list. Check out my masterlist here!

This is a Techno x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! I hope you enjoy!

Y/N’s been missing for almost a week and the one person that should be worried about them most isn’t worried at all, which upsets some people.

Third Person POV

Everyone was freaking out. Y/N had been missing for a few days and no one knew where they were, not even their boyfriend Techno. Niki had been the first one to notice. Usually Y/N shows up Saturday mornings to help prep the bakery as Saturday was usually her busiest day. But when they didn’t show, Niki went to their house to try and find them. No one was home. There was no note, no warning, no anything. They had just disappeared. Niki told a few people and all weren’t too worried at first. The excuse that maybe they had gone on a short adventure and forgot to tell anyone. Techno wasn’t too worried and that seemed to calm people’s nerves.

So everyone went on with their day. Day turned into night and then night back into day and they still were nowhere to be found. Once again, a little bit of panic seemed to rise through the people of the server. Their worries were once more brought to Techno who once again waved them off. Y/N was a big kid and they could take care of themselves if push really came to shove. Tensions settled once more.

This continued for three more days. Everyone worrying and Techno down playing their worries. His seemingly disintrence in the subject sparked rumors to fly throughout L’Manberg. Maybe Techno never really cared about Y/N. Maybe he hired some hitman to take them away in the middle of the night. Maybe Techno disposed of them himself. They were ridiculous, but when something doesn’t make sense, people tend to jump to conclusions.

Almost a week had passed since anyone had seen or heard from Y/N. Y/N was well loved on the server and it hurt everyone that they had gone so long without seeing their friend. A small group of people worked up the nerve to go to Techno’s house and demand answers.

“Techno!” Tubbo shouted as he pounded on the pink haired man’s front door, “Open up! We need to talk to you!” Confused at the sudden appearance of the young President, Techno swung open his front door to find a small angry mob on his front porch. The mob consisted of Niki, Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, Ranboo, and Ghostbur. All, but Ghostbur, had angry looks on their face while Ghostbur didn’t seem to know what was going on.

“Hello Techno!” Ghostbur greeted the Blood God with a big grin and wave. “Hello Ghostbur. And everyone else. To what do I owe the pleasure,” He questioned the mob with a raised eyebrow. “Where is Y/N?” Tommy demanded. Techno rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “I told you. I don’t know. They must be out adventuring. They’ll be back any day now. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Techno made an attempt to shut the door, but someone’s hand stopped it. Quackity stood there, fire in his eyes, hand pressing the door open. “They’ve been missing since Friday and you’re not worried?” He questioned harshly. Techno let out a small chuckle at the thought of being worried about Y/N. “They’re missing. Not dead. If they were dead, I would have seen it by now. We all would have seen it by now” Techno announced, motioning to his right arm. He was right. If Y/N had died, they all would have been notified.

“You’re really not worried about your partner?” Fundy prodded, stepping up so that he was next to Quackity. Techno chuckled once more, shaking his head at the question, “It is obvious you don’t know Y/N as much as you think you do.” Everyone made some sort of noise of protest. All of them would like to think that you’re one of their closest friends! Of course they know you well! Don’t they?

Tubbo opened his mouth to ask what Techno meant by that, but was cut off by someone behind him. “What are you guys talking about?” Everyone in the group whipped around at the sound of that familiar voice.

*POV Switch*

Y/N’s POV

A smile fell onto my face as I saw the warm glow of my boyfriend’s house in the distance. I had gone on what I thought would be a short journey to a not so nearby village to get a book I needed for my enchantments. On my way there, I ran into a pillager captain. Not thinking anything of it, I killed it and went on my way. Only I forgot about a small thing that happens when you kill a captain. You get a bad omen.

So there I was, waltzing into the village in search of a librarian to trade with, when boom! A raid starts. Well I couldn’t just trigger the raid and then leave, that would be so wrong. I helped the Iron Golem defend the village. It took a few days because it was 2 v all of them. Nevertheless, we won. I got quite a bit of loot from the dead bodies of the pillagers, including two totems of undying. After all was said and done, I began to do what I went there for. The Villagers were kind enough to give me a discount on all of my tradings for protecting them, even though I was the one that made it so they needed protecting. I stayed for a few extra days to make sure that everyone was okay and healthy. Once I was sure, I set off back toward home with my riches.

As I grew closer, I was greeted with the sight of many of my friends standing on Techno’s front porch. It caused me to grin. I really did miss my friends while I was gone. My slow pace turned into a jog as I grew nearer and nearer. As I got closer I began to hear part of their conversation. “-Would have seen it by now…” “You’re really not worried about your partner?” I heard Fundy question. I came to a stop behind the group with a furrowed brow. “It is obvious you don’t know Y/N as much as you think you do.” Techno responded. “What are you guys talking about?” I questioned, extremely confused as to what I had just stumbled upon.

In sync, all heads whipped toward me. “Y/N!” They all cried. I brought my hand up and gave them a small wave, “Hell-OH!” I let out as the weight of seven bodies hit me. Everyone began speaking at once causing all meaning to be lost in the noise. I was able to catch a few words such as ‘missing’ and ‘worried’ but other than that, I was lost.

“GUYS!” I finally shouted, breaking free from their clutches, “One at a time! What’s going on?” I questioned the group. The seven exchanged glances before Niki stepped close to me, “You were missing and nobody knew where you went and so we were worried.” Niki murmured, looking down to the ground. My heart melted at the words, “Oh Niki,” I murmured back, reaching forward and wrapping the girl in a tight hug. “I’m okay! I just had to go to the village.” I let go of the girl and gave the rest of the group hugs as well before making my way to my boyfriend. I greeted him with a big grin, which he returned, before placing a sweet kiss to his lips. After we broke apart, I turned back to the group as Techno wrapped his arm around my waist.

“So you said you had to go to the village. Why did it take you so long to come home?” Tubbo asked shyly. I let out a laugh as I thought about what had happened. “Oh well, it was supposed to be a short journey. And then I accidentally triggered a raid, so I had to fight that,” I stated casually, shrugging my shoulders. The group stared at me in shock. “You fought a raid? All by yourself?” Ranboo questioned a little star struck. “What? Like it’s hard?” The group was silent, just staring at me. “Did you guys not know that Techno personally trained me? Like All my PVP I’ve learned from him. I’ve got to say I’ve gotten pretty good!” I boasted proudly. Techno chuckled beside me, squeezing my hip and kissing the side of my head. “You sure have.”

“So that’s why you weren’t worried about them! You knew they could take care of themselves.” Techno rolled his eyes at Tommy’s statement. “Of course I knew they could. I was a little worried, but I knew they could handle themselves.” Techno’s confidence in me made me feel warm inside. “Well we’ll let you get settled and rest. I’m sure you’re tired from your traveling.” Niki said, reaching forward and tugging on everyone’s shirts getting them to slowly shuffle away. “Come by tomorrow, yeah? We all missed you a lot.” Niki requested with a smile. I returned the girl’s smile and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll definitely be by tomorrow to see everyone.” Niki gave me one final smile before ushering everyone away from Techno’s house.

Once everyone left our eyesight, Techno ushered me back inside his house. “Are you alright? Have any injuries you need me to look at?” He rushed, sitting me down on the living room couch. I laughed at his concern but shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. I did take a few hits, but the villagers took good care of me,” I answered, grinning at him. Techno returned my grin before sitting next to me, reaching down and holding my hand. “I really missed you love,” Techno hummed, pressing his lips against my forehead. I let out a sigh of content, my muscles relaxing at his touch. “I missed you too lover.”

The two of us sat there for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. Being away from my boyfriend from so long had taken a harder toll on me than the literal battle I fought just a few days prior. I really had missed my boyfriend. I let out a sigh as my eyes closed in exhaustion, “You ready to go to bed love?” Techno questioned softly. I tiredly nodded at his words, opening my eyes slightly to look at him, “Carry?” I pondered gently. Techno chuckled but nodded. He stood up and delicately picked me up, wrapping his arms around the middle of my back and pressing me tightly to him. Techno carefully walked down the hall and laid me down in his bed, quickly crawling into bed next to me.

Techno was quick to wrap himself around me and cuddle me tightly, causing me to sigh in content once more. “Thank you for believing in me” I whispered to my boyfriend. Techno smiled and kissed the bridge of my nose, “Of course love. You’re my little badass. I’ll always believe in you.” He murmured. I couldn’t help but giggle at his words. “I’m a badass,” I responded sleepily. Techno chuckled and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Yes, you are love.” I sleepily smiled at his words, and buried myself into his chest, closing my eyes to fall asleep. I let out a yawn as the warmth of my boyfriend began to spread through my body. “I love you” I sleepily murmured out to my boyfriend. I felt Techno’s lips press against the top of my head before he also murmured, “I love you too”. And then I fell asleep, safe and content in my boyfriend’s arms, not a single worry in my head.

Oh god that ending sucked, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same! Be sure to leave a like if you did!!

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joonie-beanie · 4 years

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Bean (MC) + sexual relationships with the Demon Brothers

This is an HC no one asked for, but here I am, being thirsty as hell for literally every brother, and funneling that thirst through Bean. Don’t judge me

(This time, in reverse order!...because I can! Also these are kind of messily written but I don’t know how to fix it at this point so forgive plz)

Belphegor:

General Vibe: Lowkey and Playful

Notable Kinks: Choking, edging, overstim, marking

Sex between Bean and Belphie is typically lowkey, and a little playful--depending on the mood.

They may be low-energy buddies, but they’re also both brats, which makes for a dangerous combination.

Most soft (aka lazy) sessions start one of two ways--with Belphie’s mouth on Bean’s neck, or Bean’s hand down Belphie’s pants.

Belphie is the first of the brothers to discover how sensitive Bean’s neck is. It happens when they’re cuddling, one day, and he leans in to press a kiss to her shoulder. When she shivers, immediately jerking away from the feeling with a high-pitched gasp? Oh, Belphie is relentless.

He holds her against him sternly, not letting her run away, as he assaults her neck and shoulders with his lips, tongue and teeth. (Over time, he absolutely develops a kink for seeing her covered hickies he has given her, and always wears such a little, shit-eating grin if she appears in a hoodie, or anything else that will hide away her upper torso from prying eyes).

He manages to get hard just from hearing her embarrassing sounds (which she is so desperately trying to stifle), and also the fact that every time she wriggles in his arms, her ass grinds against his cock.

When he’s finally too hard for comfort, he’ll likely take her in either of his two favorite positions. One, with her on her back, and his hand around her throat (she likes being choked, and he likes seeing her lose herself from the lack of blood flow), or two, on her knees, with her chest pressed against the sheets.

Usually, if he’s already pent up, he doesn’t bother edging, or overstimulating her. He’ll just fill Bean with his seed, and flop down onto the sheets, and go back to cuddling her--all blissed out, and tired from the orgasm.

If he feels he can last a while, he’ll likely edge her a few times, just to make her whine, and see if she’ll beg. OR, he’ll make her cum, and then keep going despite how her body is shaking from overstim.

If Bean is the one feeling a little bratty, then she’ll slip her hands beneath the waistband of his pants, and tease him with her fingers. (They both share the role of big spoon, so it’s not strange for her to be able to reach around him, and toy with him like he does her).

Since he never lets her leave without some array of marks littering her neck and shoulders, she makes sure to pay him back--kissing and nipping at his skin until he’s got a few love bites to remember her by.

Bean getting Belphie off with her hand is not very rare. If she’s spooning him, and he’s tired, he has no issue letting her jack him off. However, if he’s not groggy from sleep, he’ll likely turn the tables on her--taking her how he wants, or grabbing her hair and coaxing her head into his lap.

Beel:

General Vibe: Very sweet, or entirely overwhelming (in a good way).

Notable Kinks: Oral, marking, breeding

Bean is honestly a little freaked out by the idea of receiving oral before she meets Beel. She’s embarrassed by the idea of someone camping out between her legs, and it takes a little bit of convincing on Beel’s part before she finally allows him to taste her.

Once he does, he can’t stop, and Bean learns just how pleasurable (and damning) oral sex can be. Because with Beel, once is never good enough. The first time he goes down on her, she has to beg him to stop--her body shaking from overstim, and covered in sweat. She has no idea how long he’s spent with his mouth on her pussy, but it’s at least been an hour, and he still looks so hungry.

Beel is someone very close to her heart, and has helped her learn to love many of her insecurities, so he loves to have soft, caring sex with her. Sex where Bean whispers praises into his skin, and he mirrors her sentiments via soft touches with his hands, and mouth.

He takes her in a position where he’s guaranteed to face her--where she can cradle his face, and kiss him over and over again as they both fall apart. When she finally cums, she does so while gasping his name, with her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. And when Beel cums, he buries his face in the crook of her neck and bites down on her skin--hard enough to leave marks, but not draw blood.

She spends her post orgasm bliss tucked into his arms, with her back against his chest, and his lips pressed into her hair. He likes to stay inside of her as long as possible--until he eventually goes soft, and his cum starts leaking out of her.

Of course...sometimes Beel can’t help but be a bit rougher--to crave a little more. He is a demon, after all.

So, when Beel isn’t feeling so soft, he tends to manhandle her. His strength is already known by her--after all, he can carry her with little effort, whereas most humans would struggle to even lift her into a hug--but it never fails to surprise her when he throws her onto the bed, or hikes her up against the wall without batting an eye. (It’s such a turn on).

When Beel’s in a more carnal mood, Bean resigns herself to just being along for the ride. She lets him take her however he wants, as long as he wants. While he has never admitted it, she’s positive he has a bit of a breeding kink, because he loves to go multiple rounds, and makes sure she’s taking as much of his seed as she can.

When he’s in this state, he tends to leave more marks, as well. Most notably on her thighs, tummy, and chest.

Once things finally calm down, he’ll make sure she’s alright, and clean her up before holding her for as long as he can.

Oh, also, Bean does reciprocate oral for him. However, Beel is big and her jaw hurts if it’s open too wide, so if she ever starts to ache, Beel is more than happy to use her in other ways instead (Bean honestly feels so lucky that he’s so understanding).

Asmo:

General Vibe: Fun, and uplifting.

Notable Kinks: Edging, overstim, toys, praise kink

Bean is actually more comfortable being dominant with Asmo, than she is subbing.

Asmodeus has a huge praise kink--both giving and receiving, and Bean is more than happy to feed into that--telling him about all his good points while she jacks/sucks him off, or even pegs him.

And, of course, Asmo is more than happy to be submissive to her. She’s not a hard dom by any means, but she can be a bit sadistic (he honestly thinks it stems from her bratty submissive side), and does enjoy edging him, and watching him beg.

It’s actually exciting to Bean to be able to dominate someone and not feel completely self conscious about it. Asmo is really great at reassuring her-- since he’s not afraid to be vocal, or ask for more. It lets Bean know he’s enjoying himself, and helps build her confidence.

Once Asmo finally gets off, he refuses to let Bean leave without having her own orgasm (even if she assures him she’s okay. He’s the Avatar of Lust--there’s no way in hell he’s not going to return the pleasure she has just given him).

So, when Asmo is trying to repay her actions, he tends to get her off with a vibrating wand (the two absolutely include toys in their play regularly), or with his mouth. Bean gets turned on from fucking him, so she gets off fairly quickly once its her turn.

However, just because Bean dom’s Asmo, doesn’t mean he’s always submissive. Oh no, sometimes, he loves flustering her and taking the reins. (And it really does fluster her. Too much).

While Asmo has a huge praise kink, and soaks up all of her kind words, Bean has no idea how to handle his praise towards her, and usually just turns into a whining mess, begging him to shut up. (Of course, Asmo is pretty relentless, and doesn’t stop until she’s a complete mess from his words).

Sessions with Asmo are usually a fair amount of time, since he really likes to indulge himself in the act, but they don’t unnecessarily drag on. He knows that he and Bean both have other things to get to, and doesn’t feel the need to keep her around him after their love making. No, he makes sure she’s okay, gives her whatever amount of aftercare she needs, and then the two go on their merry way.

Although…there are the rare times where Asmo keeps her there the entire day. While his powers don’t work on her, that doesn’t mean he can’t find a good substitute (aka sometimes, with her consent, they’ll mess around with giving her an aphrodisiac). Whenever Bean takes the aphrodisiac, it’s typically a very intense experience, so they don’t do it often. But when they do? Oh man, Asmo is in love.

Satan:

General Vibe: Unhurried, light-hearted (and sometimes ruining)

Notable Kinks: Pet play, Training

Because Satan is aware of Bean’s writing habits, and has taken to proofing her work for her, the two of them casually speak of sex often, which turns into...well, actual sex between them.

Satan finds it quite cute that despite the smut she writes, Bean doesn’t have a ton of experience to back it up. So, he devotes himself to kindly helping her gain some experience (at least at first).

It starts with oral training--Satan giving Bean pointers on giving head (ya know...so she can write it with a clearer picture/experience in mind). Bean...doesn’t have the best gag reflex, hence the “training”. Satan pretty much takes it upon himself to help her tame her reflex (for the most part--after all, making her gag sometimes is still fun).

Of course...he enjoys this arrangement more than he cares to admit, and he soon breaks down, wanting more. The first time he throws Bean onto his bed and cages her down, all red in the face as he asks if he can have her--oof. She’ll never forget it. And, well, Bean has been a little...pent up, even if she won’t admit it (since blowing Satan actually turns her on a lot), so she’s more than happy to let things progress farther.

Following the broadening of their sexual relationship, Satan takes to, well, training her in other ways. Particularly...through light forms of pet play. So maybe he has a collar and leash, and a cat tailed butt plug. And maybe every time he puts them on/in Bean, it makes her blush so red, and in turn makes him grin so proudly. (He is, after all, the Avatar of Wrath. It’s in his nature to be a little mean).

Their overall play doesn’t get extremely rough. Most of the time, it’s middle ground--rough enough to satisfy them both, without being too intense.

However, sometimes Satan does get a little...feral for lack of a better term. Especially if she’s being a little too bratty, and he’s not in the mood for it. When that happens, Satan gets rough--taking 100% control of the situation. He’ll tease her about how her bratty remarks are nowhere to be found, now that he’s absolutely ruining her.

Once Satan has finally had his fill, though, he’ll be sure to clean her up, and check on her--asking if she’s alright, and bringing her water, and whatever else she may need.

Overall, though, usually sex between the two is very casual, and unhurried. Bean feels comfortable with Satan, especially because they can still talk/banter like normal, even if her mouth is on him, or if he’s inside of her.

Also, Satan won’t admit it, but he’s pretty invested in seeing how else he can train her. His next goal is getting her to cum on command.

Levi:

General Vibe: needy, intense, competitive

Notable Kinks: DP, oral, thigh fucking

The first time the two have sex, it’s because Levi get’s frustrated over the fact that she’s kicking his ass at Mario Kart. He goes demon form, and Bean attempts to calm him down by pressing her hands to his chest, and kissing him.

It actually makes his brain blue screen for a few seconds, before he’s dragging her over to his tub. He’s hesitant, at first, but with Bean’s reassurance that she’s fine, and that she wants him, he eventually gives into his desires and stops worrying so much.

And the minute Levi subconsciously begins using his tail to hold her down, or aid in the sex, and realizes that she loves it. Damn. 90% of the time he’s in his demon form when they have sex, because his tail is sensitive and he absolutely will use it on her so long as she permits it.

Sometimes, he only uses it to hold her wrists, or spread her legs, but other times he basically uses it as a second dick and wow, he’s super weak watching Bean fall apart as he fucks two of her holes open.

And Bean, despite her embarrassment, allows herself to be a little vocal for Levi, because it gives him the reassurance that he so desperately needs, and she loves seeing him confident, and using her to seek what he wants.

Levi tends to lose himself, when he’s really having fun. At first, he may be cautious about what he’s doing, but once he really starts feeling good, and realizes that he’s making Bean feel good, he lets his worries go.

And when that happens, he can go for a while. Like, Bean about to pass out but he’s still hard despite having cum in her twice while. However, Levi doesn’t get like that too often. Usually he’s happy with one, good, satisfying round of sex (and so is Bean). But...they both definitely enjoy it when things do get a little more intense.

Also, Bean blowing/jacking off Levi while he’s playing video games is 100% a thing. Most of the time he manages to keep playing, but eventually ends up pausing the game when he’s close to cumming and can’t focus anymore.

In turn, if the two are playing a game together, and Bean is winning...maybe Levi lets his demon form come forth, and lets his tail wind up her leg. And when the appendage starts groping her, it’s very hard to stay focused.

ALSO, Bean is not big into cosplay, or roleplay, but...she’ll wear a mini skirt and thigh highs for Levi. Asmo buys Bean a maid costume from Akuzon and when Levi sees her in it...and the SQUISHY ANIME GIRL THIGH LINE HE SO DEARLY LOVES...he awakens something within himself.

So yes, upon occasion, when Levi can’t stop staring at her thighs, or if she’s wearing something that draws attention to them, he’ll absolutely just thigh fuck her. It makes him weak.

Mammon:

General Vibe: Teasing, bratty

Notable Kinks: Oral, Anal, Edging

Mammon is a tsundere but Bean is a brat...and sometimes they don’t mix well.

But, Mammon is the avatar of Greed, and he’s greedy with Bean, and wants the same thing she’s willing to offer his brothers (with her consent, obviously, he’s not an asshole). Luckily, despite their inherent natures, it still works.

And by work, 90% of the time that means “Mammon whines about wanting intimacy, and Bean gives him exactly what he wants, only for him to get flustered by it”. But...she kind of likes seeing him all blushy, and honestly, as long as Mammon is getting his rocks off in the end, he can get over being embarrassed.

Typically, their sessions start one of two ways. 1. Mammon is just craving her affection, and at some point shared hugs and kisses progress into hands under clothes, and breathy moans. Or 2. Mammon sees traces of his brothers “love” on her, and he sits in the corner and pouts about it until a. Bean goes over and coaxes him out of his mood, or b. Mammon takes things into his own hands.

If Mammon is just craving affection, then he’ll likely saddle up next to her, and grumble while wrapping his arms around her. But...his hugs will turn into groping, and his lips will find hers, or sensitive areas of skin to tease. And then he’s grumbling about how she’s his, as their bodies press together--making Bean aware of the fact that he’s definitely hard.

And once he’s hard, and Bean is making little sounds that has him knowing she’s feeling good too, well...Mammon grins and gets to it.

He prefers to take her from behind, because that way he can grab her ass ( and he loves her ass. Like...he’s weak for anal with her. They don’t have it all the time, but sometimes. As a special treat).

The first few times they fuck, Mammon cums before her, and while she reassures him that she’s fine not cumming, Mammon doesn’t want to be one of, if not the only, brother who hasn’t made her cum, so. He steps up his game. Now, he always has them cum together, if not her first.

At least...that’s how it goes when he’s the one being more dominant. Because Bean loves to tease him, especially when he’s already blushy, and flustered.

During the times where she takes charge, she’ll slip into her bratty nature as she teases him with dirty remarks while taking his cock into her hand, or mouth. And Mammon does his best not to fall apart as she brings him to the edge one, twice, and again, until he’s cursing and begging for her to let him cum already. And she always does--but hey, a girl has to have her fun first right?

Lucifer:

Overall Vibe: Intimate, Sadistic (surprise surprise)

Notable Kinks: Bondage, Spanking, Denial

Once Bean finally gets over emotional constipation, and the two realize they do, indeed, reciprocate each other's feelings, well...sex is kind of enivitable (not that either of them mind).

At first, their sex is very intimate, and needy. Bean is a mixture of embarrassed and excited, whereas Lucifer feels he needs to catch up for lost time--to stake his equal claim to her as his brothers have. He works quickly while reassuring her of his feelings--drowns them both in their pleasure until the cravings they’ve held onto for so long are thoroughly spent.

Then...once things have calmed down, things get a little more...spicy.

Whereas before, Lucifer may have just scolded Bean for making a bratty comment. Well...now he can reprimand her in other ways.

While Lucifer isn’t big on leaving hickies, or bite marks like some of his brothers, he has no issue bending her over the desk in his study, and reddening her ass and thighs (he prefers to use his hand, but if he’s feeling particularly mean, he may pull out the whip he so dearly loves). And for what it’s worth, Bean enjoys it--she wouldn’t be bratty to him otherwise (and, of course, Lucifer wouldn’t spank her to begin with if she wasn’t getting something out of it as well).

Aside from this, Lucifer has taken to using his rope skills on her--but in ways far more enjoyable than he uses on Mammon. Likeeeee...tying her hands behind her back and having her service him while he works. Orrrrr...putting her in a pretty body harness, because he enjoys seeing the way it accentuates her (and he likes seeing rope marks as well). Oh, and you can’t forget tying her down on his bed so he’s truly in 100% control.

One of Lucifer’s favorite things to do is tie her up, and then deny her. Time and time again, until she’s quite literally begging--letting go of her mental restraints in order to plead for her orgasm. Watching her fall apart for him is his delight, and only once he’s satisfied with how helpless she has become, does he allow her to cum.

Of course, sex with Lucifer isn’t always so intense, or sadistic. No, the man is busy, and sometimes Bean just wants to help him unwind. So, she’ll take it upon herself to settle between his legs and get him off with her mouth and hands. Or, she’ll snuggle up to him in bed, and if she feels him getting hard, she’ll just kiss him and ask if he wants her to take the reins for the night (which usually means riding him, while he holds her hips--only helping her out when she gets close and can barely move anymore).

And they both love the soft, intimate sessions as much as they do the ones where Lucifer gets Bean so desperate that tears prick her eyes.

Lucifer is very good about aftercare, though, especially when he’s been quite mean. He’ll clean her up and kiss her hair and bring her water. Oh, and of course she’ll be staying with him for the night--with his arm draped over her waist, or his wings curled around her. (Like she’d even try to leave…)

#Bean #aksjdhsjakld I tried to just go over some main points and didn't want to make them terribly long but #*touchy fingers* if anyone has questions about certain dynamics plz feel free to ask!!#obey me mc #om!#obey me

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stfredsa · 3 years

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HC / DESIRES etc.

TW : sex work / forced prostitution, abuse, general n.sfw themes .

although everyone and their mother knows about fred’s issues with INTIMACY / PHYSICAL CLOSENESS in a romantic sense, she is actually a VERY sexual person. not only because sex ( and flirting, seduction in general ) is one of the only languages she actually feels comfortable using for the comfort of CLOSENESS ( she desperately yearns to have someone close, but the commitment of it terrifies her: hence casual sex as a mean to gain WARMTH without holding the responsibility of it ), but also because her ENJOYMENT of it is still somewhat new : as if sex as FREDDIE DAWSON ( sought because of her own pleasure and on her own initiative ) was something entirely different from sex as FREDDIE GALLAGHER / DICKINSON ( imposed upon her / pleasure expected FROM her, very seldom given ). it means she’s also still discovering what she’s into and what she dislikes ( it also means she’s open to pretty much all forms of experimenting, as long as it isn’t outright DANGEROUS or crossing hard limits ).

first off, she’s not opposed to ROUGHNESS, in fact prefers it when things get a little nasty and there’s just a bit of bruises in the morning. it has to be ULTRA-CONSENSUAL, of course, but it’s fair to say she likes to PLAY ROUGH. she’s feisty, too — she couldn’t be qualified as just a “ sub ” because, as much as she likes to let her partners take control, she really dislikes being docile / lying back. freddie likes to “ leave a mark ” — be it biting or scratching, having sex with her is not a calm experience, by a long shot.

( anyone who knows of her past might think she’d prefer her partners to be extremely delicate — that’s not her preference at all, as reclaiming her sexual activity has helped her gain at least a shade of STRENGTH back, and being made to feel like she’s “fragile” only ends up pissing her off. she VENTS a lot of her feelings through sex, and needs it to be somewhat cathartic to truly appreciate it. plus, surprisingly enough, sex with jimmy was SCARCE — he’d often enjoy saying she was ‘spoiled goods’ / ‘not worthy of being fucked’ and sleep with someone else instead. when he did, in fact, have sex with her, he seemed to only want to do it out of pity, out of an obligation of sorts — occasional partners who are this GENTLE with her just remind her of what he used to say, and it makes her angry to no end. of course, with deeply committed relationships, this can change, and SOFTNESS, paired with closeness / firmness, is something she can actually appreciate. soft emotional sex that’s intense more because of the feelings involved rather than her partner being actually delicate is ALWAYS encouraged ).

although she’s into SOME aspects of b.dsm ( being told what to do, or having someone control her movements ) there are some she wouldn’t touch with a ten feet pole, i.e. anything that has to do with corporal punishment, especially slaps / smacking, paddling, etc. even more, she absolutely LOATHES being restrained and will call out her safeword whenever a partner suggests binding her in any form.

this will be part of a bigger headcanon too, but NAME CALLING is also absolutely a hard limit for her. PET NAMES, on the other hand, will absolutely make her come undone in a second.

she’s REALLY into giving oral. like, really. it might have a few psychological factors in it, how she only truly feels satisfied when pleasing people in any form, but it’s a kind of sexual act that she offers FREELY to her partners, never really has to be solicited ( and, truth be told, she’s quite spectacular at it ). on the other hand, she has barely ever received oral — and never to completion.

a good indicator of how much she’s enjoying herself is the noise she makes. she’s usually extremely QUIET, bites down her lips almost to the point of bleeding in order to not let out a sound ( in the beginning it was a way for her to never betray sexual pleasure when she was working at the motel — afterwards, beginning to work as a bartender and often entertaining quickies in the restrooms, it just became a necessity ). when she’s REALLY enjoying herself, however, freddie can be LOUD — there’s a specific threshold few people have ever passed where she loses herself completely and would probably need to be shut up ‘cause, like, really.

although choking is another hard limit ( read this for an explanation, warning : mentions of abuse / domestic abuse ), with partners she’s REALLY close to emotionally, a hand on her neck might just drive her over the edge — not pressing, not choking, just lying around her neck. sort of a reminder that they see her weaknesses, and they won’t take advantage of them — that she’s safe.

she’s BIG on foreplay and actually greatly enjoys everything leading up to the act itself, especially kissing / making out.

actually, she’s also a HUGE TEASE and enjoys making her partners uneasy / horny in public FAR too much. ( but she also enjoys being teased to death, so ).

with occasional partners, she tends to LEAVE or kick them out as soon as they’re both finished. occasionally she’ll allow someone to stay over for the night but then tends to still kick them out as soon as the sun rises, just so there is no misunderstanding. when it comes to people she actually has feelings for ( once she’s actually addressed and acknowledged this feelings, so it happens once every 122 years really ), she really enjoys cuddling / sleeping in / general morning shenanigans. again: make out sessions are really her favorite, especially in the morning.

she can get… creative with locations. big on beds, of course, but also cars, restrooms, the kitchen, the washing machine, an alley, honestly — take your pick. she doesn’t mind.

this is part of a larger set of hcs so i’ll only mention it in passing but if you have sex with her and she smiles often, laughs often, teases you and is playful more than anything? yeah, that means she’s head over heels.

#HC —— sometimes i feel like an inland ocean.#FILE —— maybe i've always been more comfortable in chaos.#nsft /#abuse /#ptsd /#i had to repost this because it took me 78 years to find it again but #it's relevant to this day

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

A New Arrangement [Part 5/9]

<- Part 4 | Part 6 ->

Summary: There is nothing unprofessional about your entirely professional relationship with Frederick Chilton.

1,100 words

“Ooooh, got a hot date today?” Roxy wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

“What are you talking about?”

”You always look super cute on days you see,” she silently mouthed mask guy, and punctuated it with another brow pump for good measure.

“Oh my god,” you waved her away, “It is so not like that!”

She laughed impishly, slapping her desk. “You just turned so red! You’re totally into him!”

“I am not! Do not go telling everybody that!”

“What?” she stopped giggling and batted her lashes at you innocently. “So he’s a hermit. He’s super rich. Go for it babe, live the dream.”

Your eye twitched, and she started laughing hysterically again.

You were not attracted to Frederick Chilton. How could you be attracted to someone you’d never even seen? There was a headshot of the sleeve of his book, but it was impossible for your imagination to imbue that staged black-and-white photo with life, or apply it to the man in front of you. He was just a voice behind a mask.

That voice, though.

It was so soft, like the velvety chestnut fluff of a teddy bear. You felt caress over your skin rather than heard it. And it was so carefully spoken, his grammar as unnaturally formal as the cover letter of your first resume out of college—nerves jittery at the prospect of being rejected yet eager to show off your education.

Sometimes his vowels would stretch out like a cat, yawning and flexing its round toes, giving his words an air of drama. This happened especially when he was being smug or petty. You first noticed it while discussing his desire to have a hall named after him at the university his old rival worked at.

“He dumped me for a man he claimed was ‘going places.’ Now he teaches,” he said, stretching the word. “I would like him to give his little lectures in Chilton Hall. That should really piss him off.”

You joined him in wringing your fingers with spiteful glee as you did your best to make it happen—you couldn’t imagine what idiot would dump him. Actually, scratch that, you could. The way he flaunted his money, his massive ego, his penchant for the dramatic… it was all rather douchey. But douchey in a charming way that charmed you. Maybe because you saw that the puffed-up ego was just a defense mechanism. A small lizard displaying a large frill around its neck to startle predators. Behind the bluster was a sweet, scared man you would never tire of spending time with.

Not that you were attracted to him.

You weren’t, you groaned to yourself, head on your desk as the last hours of Friday ticked by. Getting someone’s name on a college building was not easy, or cheap, and did not exactly fall within the standard purview of end-of-life-planning. At all. You were exhausted.

“Karaoke tonight?” a message pinged on your screen from Roxy.

“Yessssss,” you eagerly typed back. “Get me out of here.”

Having plans only made the rest of the day crawl even slower. Your focus wandered. You imagined Dr. Chilton just-so-happening to be at the same bar and hearing you belt out a love ballad that would make him blush behind the mask.

But you knew you wouldn’t see him until your scheduled appointment next Tuesday.

How could you be attracted to someone who never left his house? If he walked into the bar dressed up like the phantom of the goddamn opera, everyone would stare. Then again, like he said, people would stare no matter what he was wearing.

How bad could his injuries possibly be? You googled “severe burn” and quickly closed the browser. Bad. The answer was: pretty bad. Not as bad as they could be, though. He had functioning eyelids that you could see behind the mask, which meant he was fortunate they were not fused together like melted candle wax.

You cleared your search history for the third time that day. Your manager did not need to think you were obsessed with a client. You were not obsessed. He was just… fascinating.

Karaoke was a distraction, but all the noise and crowds and drinks couldn’t get your mind off him. Four days felt like an eternity. He would be alone that whole time. Unless he has more physical therapy, you thought angrily. Why were you angry? You weren’t! It didn’t help that Roxy kept teasing you, prying about eccentric mannerisms you regretted ever telling her about.

She wasn’t wrong. He was weird. You couldn’t like someone that weird. Mask aside, you would think he’d wear something more comfortable than a suit in his own home, but he obsessively needed to maintain his image. His status. He couldn’t be seen without his mask on: literal and figurative.

Frankly, he looked ridiculous.

Though, anyone would have to admit, it was also rather sexy. Crisp pressed slacks, a stylish shirt and tie, and an audacious mask. Stretched out on a leather couch. It was like some millionaire anonymous sex thing, and it sent the occasional shiver down your spine toward… regions you would not discuss.

You shoved the thought down.

It wasn’t as though he felt the same way toward you anyway. He’d made his disinterest abundantly clear, and trying to seduce him would be callous to his recovery. Being burned had left him physically weak, frequently exhausted, and devastatingly shy. Sex was the last thing on his mind. It was a miracle that was willing to touch you at all.

He could touch you now. He had touched you. You touched! It happened the session after he invited you to sit next to him so you could more easily share the laptop screen.

As you sat beside each other on the couch, your legs touched, as legs are wont to do in the natural course of sitting. He flinched away the first time, but the cushions were soft, tending to draw you in toward each other where your weight made a deep depression. The second time, he left it there, the warm steady pressure of your legs pressed together raising goosebumps that were thankfully hidden under long pants.

The next meeting, he leaned against you to see the screen. Your fingers brushed over the keyboard, and something awoke. A sleeping tiger.

He needed physical contact like he needed air to breathe. He attempted to be discreet about it, but you could tell he was always sitting as close to you as possible, touching you “accidentally” as you passed the laptop for him to sign a document.

He was so skittish. So careful with every touch, growing bolder little by little only as you reciprocated, sighing as his shoulder grazed yours, leaning into it. Then his hand, casually falling onto the couch cushion between you, next to where your hand rested. A pinkie extending. Yours extending back.

The couch was more comfortable than the office chairs, but sitting for any length of time was still challenging. One day, he seemed particularly weary and was starting to zone out.

“You can lay down if you need to. We can do it like this,” you indicated for him to put his legs over your lap, so you could both still see the computer. He did. Your hand rested on his knee, and he didn’t flinch or brush it away.

Next time, it was his head that was in your lap.

The filling out of forms and projecting of expenses turned more and more into cuddle sessions. You learned with a thrill of pleasure how solid his chest was, how broad were the arms always hidden under stiff sleeves.

There was nothing unprofessional about it. He got tired easily. It was perfectly natural that you should be comfortable relaxing together. It was easier for both of you.

There was nothing unprofessional about it.

It wasn’t as though he liked you. He was just a little touch-starved, and some friendly cuddling was healthy. You didn’t like him either. Maybe your heart raced a little when he was near, but who wouldn’t be nervous around a weird mask-guy? And if you looked forward to your meetings all week, you were just attached to him as a client.

You were attached to him as a client.

The reason you could do your job, so steeped in death, and still sleep at night was because you didn’t bond with people easily. You weren’t cold—you were kind to clients, sympathized with them, and wanted to help them—but you didn’t think about them after clocking out. This was different.

As your last appointment rapidly approached, you were never in your life more certain of how much you were going to miss somebody.

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #raul esparza #hannibal #my writing

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

Sick Little Games: Seventeen

"Babe, you okay?" Clint said, toweling off his hair and padding over to your makeup table where you're sitting and looking a little lost.

"Yeah," you answer. You sound dejected. And not okay. But Clint knows better than to pry. Sometimes, you have to feel on your own before you can tell him about them. And after dodging your parents all week, he isn't surprised you're reluctant to go out tonight.

He crosses the floor and sits at your vanity next to you, "So," he asks, amused, "What makeup look are we going for tonight? Emo moppet or Ethereal Fairy?"

You half shrug, "I was thinking sparkly Alien."

"Ooo," he teases, giving you a nudge and a wink, "Switching it up on me? I'm gonna be thinking I'm getting some strange when we get home."

You snort and lean against his side for a second, wanting some comfort. A little adoration. Some semblance of "okay." Clint obliges, pulling you closer. "Baby," he murmurs, "We don't have to go out tonight if you don't want to."

"But I can't hide here forever," you point out.

Clint smiles, "You can if you want to. No one would judge you... Stirling is a gross person. What kinda person tries to picket a building full of superheroes?"

"You're all unclean, dealing with me," you murmur, looking away. Your face heats and Clint won't let you pull away. There's been a lot of reflexive shame. A lot of struggling.

Clint snorted bitterly, "If they really believe that, then why are they trying to reach out?"

You shrug, "I'm recognizable now. I'm not their "missing" kid anymore... People are probably calling Stirling's ministry into question. Primarily since he built it on the back of "saving" kids because he couldn't "save" me."

"That's bullshit," he hissed.

You nod and take a deep breath, "Yeah. But now they expect me to swoop in and save the family ministry... denounce my evil ways. Whatever that means."

Clint smiles a little, "Well, I hope you don't. I kinda like them."

You laugh and kiss his jaw, "Horn dog," you scold, without any real heat.

"Well, yeah," he said unrepentantly. You roll your eyes and start fussing with your makeup. He watches for a moment. He likes the transformation. It reminds him irresistibly of you getting ready for battle. It's methodical. Crisp and precise. But tonight he doesn't stay to watch you do the whole thing. He dresses and slips out, going to look for Steve.

"Hey Cap," he called, leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Yeah?" he asked, stirring a cup of coffee.

"Is there anything we can do to keep the picketers from harassing Y/N?"

"Legally?" Steve asked.

"Sure," Clint said.

"Not a fucking thing," Steve said, his mouth screwing up in distaste. "They filed all their permits with the city and as long as no one puts hands on her? There's nothing we can do... Legally."

Steve watched the wheels turning in Clint's head and sighed, "Look," Steve said hurriedly, "I don't like it either." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Y/N is a good girl. She's not... She's not any of the things they're calling her. For god's sake. She knits and bakes cookies. She's in bed by 11 and... well. She's a good girl. A sweet kid. She doesn't deserve this, but... The harder we fight it, the worse it's going to look like we have something to hide. And that... That's just gonna whip people into a bigger frenzy. Gain more attention."

Clint frowned, "She's afraid to leave to go out, Steve," he protested.

Steve exhaled slowly, "I know," he groaned, "Nat's been up my ass about it too... Look. Legally? There's nothing I can do. Nothing I can be SEEN to do."

"So, if I do something..." Clint pressed.

"This conversation never happened," Steve said firmly.

Clint smirked, and Steve said a prayer. A small prayer that whatever the archer did, at the very least, wouldn't lead to maiming.

_________

Clint smiled when you stepped out of the elevator and whistled softly. "Sparkly Space Alien" was indeed a look. Your outfit was art. And so was your face. You were almost completely unrecognizable. At least. You would be to people that had pretended you were dead for over a decade. He steals a soft kiss and brushes and errant lock of hair out of your eyes, "You're so out of my league."

"It's fine, you make me laugh," you answer, snuggling against his chest and sliding your arms inside his jacket around his waist to be closer to him.

"Is that all?" he askes, feigning hurt.

"Sometimes you open jars," you quip, smiling up at him.

"Damn right, I do," he rumbles, "Especially after you loosen 'em up for me."

You smudge a kiss against his jaw, happy to be close to him. And in a way, glad that he isn't intimidated. That you can still tease him. That it still feels right snuggling into his arms to get warm. Or just for a cuddle because you're touch starved. You're also glad that he doesn't care if he finds you cuddled up with Thor. Or Bruce. Or both of them when he has to be away. Platonic cuddle piles had always been a thing, and Clint was okay with it. Though he liked being the first person you went to for comfort.

Bucky leans on the pool table, scowling to himself as he cleans his nails. It's grotesquely cute. The way Clint folds you into his arms and coddles you. Giving you a moment to hide against his chest. The way you look up at him. Big bright eyes and glitter-dusted cheeks. Discordant looks. Clint's grey sweatshirt jacket and jeans. Your pop/punk/glitter alien nonsense. You look like you stepped out of a magazine and Clint? That boy looks like it's laundry day. Like he just threw on the last handful of clean clothes that he had. And not for the first time, as the protesters outside the tower start singing. As they settle in to start their candlelit vigil or whatever, Bucky wonders what the fuck Clint is actually going to do about this. Bucky also wonders why any of the people out there give a fuck if you can Abracadabra your way out of a mess. But as you walk by with Clint, tucked happily into his side, giggling at whatever he'd just said, bucky itches to snatch you off his arm and remind Clint that he'd had you first. That he'd been the first one to pin you to a bed.

He'd seen the permissive way that Clint acted with you. The way he didn't bat an eye at you lying on the couch with people that weren't him. The way someone else casually kissing your cheek or picking you up to move you out of the road didn't phase him. He never so much as blinked at anyone, just swinging you off your feet. Like last week when the Hulk fucking took you and picked you up like a doll. Setting you on his shoulder while he scaled a goddamn building. All Clint had had to say was, "Aww man, why's he never do that for me? I gotta monkey fuck my own way up to a ledge."

"Hawkeye, not as cute to look at," Hulk chuckled, "No, make me cookies."

"Oh, come on!" Clint protested, "I taught you how to cha-cha slide."

"She teaches me how to Cupid Shuffle," Hulk answered, smirking.

"Damn it!" Clint said, snapping, "Outfoxed again."

Nothing phased him. Nothing bothered him. He didn't even care if you had to flirt with someone for a mission. And Bucky thought that was ridiculous. If, he thought, mentally shaking his head and correcting himself. No, When you were his girl, that kind of thing wasn't gonna happen. You were gonna behave. You were gonna keep your hands to yourself.

_________

In the bar, you lean against Bruce and sigh, "Not gonna lie, I feel a little overdressed."

"You are a bit," he says fondly, brushing glitter off his arm where you'd leaned on him. "Still dodging protestors?"

You nod and sigh, "Luckily, all the news tends to publicize is the pictures of me sweating a covered in blood or various viscera."

Bruce winced sympathetically and smiled a little, "I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, "If it helps, they can't do this forever."

"No," you agree, "But they can do it as long as Stirling's little cult keeps sending him money."

"That's gross," Bruce said.

"Tell me about it," you answer, taking a sip from your glass.

"My Lady," Thor ventured, "How did your mother find herself with this man? He doesn't seem to have any affection for you."

You shrug, "Being a single mom is hard, Thor," you answer. "Being a single mom with a checkered past is harder... so when Mama found Jesus, she found Stirling."

Thor nodded, frowning, "And then?" he pressed.

"And then... He became our new normal. He had money you know? And once they got married mama didn't have to work 16 hour days to keep food on the table. So. It didn't really matter if he said dinosaurs were the work of the devil. Or that everything we read or watched had to be "approved" to keep our minds pure. And it was... okay. Until I was 12."

Bruce made a soft, sympathetic noise and signaled for you to be given another drink. "That's when you got your powers, right?" he asked.

"Got my period and my powers at the same time... Worst fucking birthday ever," you grouse, "And I'm still shitty about it."

Thor smiles a little and sips from his glass, "That- yes, that would be bullshit."

You nod, "Not too long after that, Stirling put me and the bag my mama packed on a greyhound and shipped my ass to California... Figured no one would look for me there... Then they waited a few months, buried an empty casket, and spent over a decade cashing in all that sweet, sweet sympathy."

Bruce kissed the side of your head and sighed, "That's... That's a mess."

You nod, "Yeah. But at least I learned how to dress."

"That's true," Bruce said, laughing. You might be overdressed right now, but at least you weren't rocking unironic fanny packs messy, shapeless clothing. Your clothes actually fit you, and you looked comfortable. They all looked like lizard people who were struggling to figure out how their skin suits worked.

"Say the word, my lady," Thor declared, raising his tankard, "And I will smite them!"

"No, smiting!" Tony yelled from across the bar, "Absolutely not!"

"He's talking about the protestors!" Bruce called back.

"Oh. Shit. Yeah. I'll help!" he says, throwing back a shot.

You roll your eyes, "Easy boys," you caution, "Don't underestimate the power of zealots... Just... All we have to do is wait. Stirling's built himself a house of cards. And he's one stiff breeze away from losing it all."

Tags:

@lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm, @hv-chw3, @past-perfect-future-tense, @starkrobb @beardburnsupersoldiers, @petlaufeyson, @queenoftheunderdark, @potatoheadthewise, @thehyperactiveteen, @thefridgeismybestie, @boyett514, @an-awkward-human-1, @sunshine-and-riverwater

#clint barton #Clint Barton x reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky x reader #Bruce Banner #Thor #Steve Rogers #tony stark

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anasticklefics · 4 years

Text

Tickle Cheating

Fandom: Star Trek

Characters: Jim Kirk, Leonard McCoy

Summary: Jim tickles Bones. It’s what he DOES. So how does one react when you see someone else tickle your usual victim? Like a mess if you’re Jim Kirk apparently!

A/N: I blame @fickle-tiction (are you HAPPY?). Also I don’t know how hospitals work don’t yell at me. Might rewrite this idea with lee!Jim because he has my heart.

Also does this whole fic and my author’s note have a general chaotic air about it or am I going crazy haha?

Words: 3 124

The first time Jim noticed it was when he dropped by the hospital to deliver Bones’ lunch that he’d left at the kitchen counter of their shared dorm room. Entering a space that was oddly both chaotic and completely still at the same time, the general air so suffocating that it was no wonder Bones was exhausted each time he returned from a shift. Jim grinned at the receptionist, unsure of where the med students where and if he was even allowed past a certain point and if so, “would you or someone give this to Leonard McCoy?”

But the woman, hair framing her heart shaped, incredibly kind face, met his grin with a smile and told him he could go right in.

“If someone stops you or you can’t find him, simply ask if someone can leave the box in the kitchen.”

Her words sounded scripted in a way that told him this probably happened more often than not, and he thanked her and left. Up three stories with the elevator to the floor she’d directed him toward, footsteps echoing around the empty corridors, until he eventually found a more chaotic environment in the form of the emergency room.

How many times had he been here just that semester?

“Kirk!” someone Jim recognized from the Academy called out, glancing up from a clipboard. “What have you done now?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “It’s been months since… whatever. Do you know where Bones is? McCoy. Whatever you call him.”

“I tend to call him Leo.”

“That’s weird. Do you know where he is? He left his lunch.”

The guy, unnamed for now and the rest of eternity, pointed his thumb in the direction of yet another corridor. “Third door to the right.”

“Should I just go in?”

“They don’t have any patients in there right now.”

So Jim went, wondering if he was breaking any rules but feeling extremely ready to get out of there.

He saw it then. The small room - do they perform surgeries in there? - with a bed and a table and four windows and five people, all on top of each other with Bones in the middle. All talking, simultaneously grave and cracking jokes. Familiar, whether they wanted to or not. A job where you couldn’t be timid of bodily contact; eating and sleeping almost in each other’s laps. Jim looked at Bones, saw how easily he moved with elbows in his guts and people breathing down his neck.

He also saw his face light up when he caught sight of Jim.

“I brought your lunch,” he said meekly, holding it up, and if Bones was the type to profess his undying love for his friends, Jim was sure he would be going down on one knee right now.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” he said later, having entered their dorm as Jim had been nearly falling asleep over his homework. “You bringing me food literally saved my day and I will grant you one wish as a reward.”

And Jim, exhausted, lonely and closer to the verge of tears than he would’ve liked, demanded cuddles.

In their years of living together Jim had never asked for cuddles. He always wanted to, but whatever physical affection he had a tendency to hand out to his friends like a way too common gift, he always stopped before they could get mad, and therefore always stopped before he felt satisfied.

“I just want a good fucking cuddle,” he was saying now, his tone too desperate for it to sound like a joke. Bones, bless him, didn’t comment on it.

“Let me take a shower and change,” he only said. “Trust me, you don’t want whatever my clothes have.”

Jim nodded, suddenly feeling too vulnerable, too exposed, so he ducked his head back down, eyes on his books. Listening to every sound Bones was making, thinking he was being both too quick and too slow, and when he finally returned Jim was fully aware of it, but pretending to be too engrossed in his work to notice.

“You wanna cuddle now or later?” Bones asked, so casual about it that Jim knew he’d never manage to get a single thing done for the rest of the night.

“Now,” he said, standing abruptly enough to nearly knock his chair down.

Bones grabbed it, his face a mix of amusement and concern. “Right then. The couch? Movie night?”

“Sure.”

“Want to pick the movie?”

“You go ahead.”

“Okay.”

Jim tried to shake the sudden awkwardness out of his limbs as he followed his friend into the living room area of their tiny dorm, realizing this was probably a bad idea. They hadn’t even touched yet and he was acting like a total fool.

“We don’t have to do this,” he blurted out, causing Bones to stop in his tracks. “I don’t know why I asked for it. I’m over it. I was just tired. We really don’t have to.”

“Jim.” Reaching out to grab Jim’s arms, Bones gave his flesh a squeeze. “Breathe. It’s fine that you asked for it and we don’t have to do it if you’ve changed your mind, but if I really didn’t want to myself I would’ve said so.”

Jim deflated. “Promise?”

“Jesus, you must be exhausted. Yes, promise.”

“It’s just that-” Jim wasn’t sure why he was trying to explain when Bones hadn’t asked for an explanation in the first place. “-I saw you at the hospital and you seemed so okay with being physically close to people and I feel like I might die if nobody holds me for, like, half an hour-”

“Jim.”

“-and I know it’s part of your job so I don’t want to overstep-”

“Please shut up for a sec.”

Jim did, but only because Bones had said please.

“I don’t necessarily enjoy having my personal space so violated,” he continued. “But of course I don’t mind you doing it. You’re my-”

“I know,” Jim said when Bones trailed off. They had no words to describe what they were. “So I shouldn’t be jealous?”

“Absolutely not, but mostly because you act like an idiot when you want something you think you can’t have.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You act like a petulant child.”

“Oho, is that so?”

Bones ruffled his hair. “Go back to being timid. It was cuter.”

So maybe Jim didn’t pay attention to anything that happened in the movie and fell asleep in Bones’ arms ten minutes later, Bones’ fingers squeezing at various places on his body to get him to “relax for fuck’s sake”. Maybe he couldn’t picture himself falling asleep in an empty bed again for weeks. Maybe Bones was really fucking good at cuddling.

Waking up sweaty with Bones’ knee pressed to the small of his back later was a whole other thing. “Hhng. Get off.”

“You’re nearly on top of me.”

“Feels like I was hit by a truck.”

“You snore like a goddamn-”

Jim somehow managed to roll over and press his face into Bones’ neck. “Shh. Too loud.”

A spasm went through Bones’ body, convincing Jim he was trying to throw him off the couch and making him resort to clinging onto his torso for dear life. “N-no.”

“What was that?”

Bones was, miraculously, laughing.

Jim tried to crane his neck to get a glimpse of his face, but he only succeeded in pressing the top of his head beneath Bones’ chin. “Okay, what is happening right now?”

Bones said something incoherent, his words slurred with sleep and higher in pitch with laughter. His hands were clawing at Jim’s back, unable to get a good grip of his shirt and therefore only managing to lightly tickle him, which was kinda nice actually.

Wait.

“Oh, this is tickling you,” Jim said, laughing into Bones’ skin as if this was a group activity. “Hey, I didn’t even know you were ticklish.”

“I’m not,” came the strangled denial.

“Hmm, I think you are. Otherwise this wouldn’t bother you.” He spidered his fingers up Bones’ side, noticing the squirming getting a notch more desperate the closer he came to his friend’s ribs. He paused just beneath them. “I’ll make you a deal. If you don’t react to this I’ll believe you’re not ticklish. Okay?”

“Jim, you fucking-”

Jim jabbed him in the ribs and nearly lost his hearing from the shriek that left Bones’ mouth.

“Ah, so you’re ridiculously ticklish, then?”

Bones cursed and managed to slip his arm out from beneath him, placing it against Jim’s chest, but not pushing him off.

“And you don’t mind this? I see.”

“I’m gonna kill you, James Tiberius-”

“Don’t you middle name me, Leo.”

Years passed. They graduated. Jim somehow became a captain and got a ship. Bones for some reason decided to work on said ship, bestowing Jim with his constantly shifting moods for the next five years. Not that he complained. Was literally doing the exact opposite. And, all the while their lives changed and kept changing, Jim kept tickling him nearly daily.

“Don’t fucking tickle me in front of others,” had been Bones’ one demand disguised as a request.

So Jim didn’t, but kept it behind closed doors as they always had. The image of Bones being physically close to others always prompting him to demand cuddles, now that he wasn’t ashamed of this dire need anymore. And, more often than not, he would slip his hands beneath Bones’ shirt and make him laugh uncontrollably for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure how it had become a part of their routine, but he felt that if he didn’t get these intimate yet playful moments as often as he could he would shrivel up and die.

“You’re a drama queen,” Bones had said more than once when Jim had complained about them not having gotten any alone time.

“You literally beg me to stop when I’m barely even touching you,” Jim countered each time. “Don’t call me a drama queen when you’re just as bad.”

Bones would only wave a hand at him, having gotten out of the habit of blushing over his sensitivity years ago.

Something else that had become more common than they probably realized was how often Jim brought him food into medbay. Sometimes it was breakfast, snacks, his forgotten lunch or dinner. Other times it was just a drink, just as an excuse to stop by. Sometimes he came empty handed.

That day Bones truly had forgotten to eat, his empty seat painfully loud in the cafeteria. Jim knew his habits more than anyone and knew he wouldn’t eat unless food was visibly presented before him, and so he filled a tupperware with everything he knew Bones liked and skipped through the corridors, suddenly feeling like he was back at the Academy again.

Bones wasn’t alone, but he rarely was. The crowded hospital rooms had been replaced with him and Chapel dancing around each other, sometimes with more than one crew member present; arms and legs and chests and heads laid out for Bones’ magical fingers to heal, or so they hoped. Jim had lied there more times than he could count, so he was highly familiar with the nooks of this part of the ship.

Bones was standing on a stool, which made Jim stop in his tracks before he announced his presence, greeting dying on his lips and being replaced with a grin. Whatever Bones was trying to reach, it seemed to be just out of reach and he was grumbling as he kept stretching.

“Do you need a hand there?” Chapel asked, her tone playful while Bones let out an unprofessional curse.

“Can I borrow some heels?” he muttered, and she laughed, all familiarity due to working together in such close proximity for years. It wasn’t elbows in guts or naps in laps, but Jim recognized it from his crew on the Bridge. It was impossible to not grow close.

“It might help if I make you jump,” she continued.

“How the hell will you do that?”

Jim was almost proud of the fact that he didn’t let out any sound as he watched her reach out and poke at Bones’ ribs, just at the spot that could make him scream with laughter. It was a coincidence, it had to be a coincidence, how the hell could she know.

Bones didn’t squeal, but he didn’t pretend as if nothing was happening as he had learnt to do back in school, partly because back then people never meant to tickle you if they tried to get past you quickly and had to grab your waist. Chapel did indeed mean to make him squirm.

Jim watched his arms shoot down, swatting at her with a laugh so relaxed this really truly couldn’t have been the first time she tickled him. It really truly couldn’t.

Other people tickled Bones. Bones let other people tickle him.

He started backing away, lunch box forgotten when he literally bumped into Uhura who was coming from the opposite direction. The tupperware flew out of his hands as he let out a gasp in surprise, the food littering the floor only a second later. Things were a bit chaotic after that, but maybe because everything was overpowered by his frantically beating heart, that really had no business freaking out but there they were.

“I’m so sorry!” he heard Uhura say over his own incoherent babbling, the two of them crouching down to clean up the mess while Chapel and Bones kept repeating that “it’s fine, we have a broom, please get off the floor” that Uhura eventually listened to while Jim had to be pulled upright by Bones who was laughing, only to start frowning when he realized just how truly stressed out Jim was by the whole situation.

It wasn’t even about the food, but.

“I’ll go get you some more before they close the cafeteria,” he said, heart in his throat, threatening to spill out among the food on the ground, and who knew what that treacherous heart would reveal. “Really, it’s fine,” he said, leaving them be and rushing to the first restroom he could find, finally allowing himself to calm the fuck down and breathe.

What a stupid thing to get upset by, but.

He heard someone enter the room, causing him to press his body against the stall like a coward, but Bones’ voice rang clear anyway. “Jim?”

He didn’t reply.

“Come on, I know you’re in here.”

“I’m peeing.”

“Right, well, I’ll wait until you’ve finished.”

“Okay, I’m not peeing.”

“I know.” A beat, and, “Come out. Please.”

It was always the please that got him.

“Before you ask,” Jim said, exiting the stall. “I was gonna go get your food just after this stop.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “I don’t care about the food. I mean I do, and it was really nice that you brought me some, but it’s a slow day and I’ll be fine.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to see what was up with you.”

“With me?”

“You seem… I don’t know. Freaked out? Like something is wrong?”

“I see.”

“Jim.”

He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair, looked anywhere but on Bones. “I don’t know. The whole situation sort of shook me and now I feel weird.”

“You spilling the food?”

“No. Jesus, no. Just-” He waved his hand in Bones’ general direction. “You being tickled by someone else. It was weird being an onlooker.”

“You’re acting like a disaster because of that?”

“Look, you know I’ve acted worse about tamer things.”

“You’re so stupid.”

Jim snorted, finally meeting his friend’s eye. “I’d love to have this conversation-”

“Stop lying.”

“-but I have to head back. Got a ship to run and all.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “Fine, but I’m bringing this up tonight.”

Jim patted his shoulder as he passed. “I’m counting on it.”

It didn’t mean that he was looking forward to it, however.

“Ugh, just get it over with,” he groaned when Bones entered his quarters, looking rather alert, pointing to a calm rest of the day.

“Don’t sound so excited about it,” Bones deadpanned. “We’re gonna talk about my sensitive spots, after all.”

“I love your sensitive spots.”

“Focus.”

“I just thought it was something only I did to you, that’s all.”

“You got jealous?”

“Maybe a little?”

Bones relented. “You’re being-”

“Ridiculous, I know.”

“And kind of endearing, but I’ll only say that once.”

“You say many things once. Doesn’t mean I’ll forget them.”

“Oho, you’re kind of asking for it yourself, you know.”

Jim threw up his hands. “Tickle me, then. This whole day’s weird and backwards anyway.”

“You know I would never take your job.”

“Chapel did.”

“Oh, come on. As if you’ve never tickled anyone else before.”

Jim huffed, crossing his arms. “I never said my reaction was logical.”

“You gonna tickle me or not?”

“Are you asking me to?”

Bones did flush then, so rare nowadays. So wonderful. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

Jim barked out a laugh, already approaching him. “Stay still.”

“You know damn well I won’t.”

“I do, but it’s fun watching you struggle.”

“You sadist- wahait!”

Jim cornered him and pushed him down onto the couch, fingers already working over his hips, a spot he was certain no one else knew of. A spot that could make Bones scream so loud Jim had to stop out of fear of accidentally killing him.

Usually he was gentle, starting slow to make him giggle, but Bones had technically tickle cheated on him and that just wouldn’t do. Pinning him beneath his thighs, Jim dug into the sensitive spots, Bones’ clothes doing nothing to help him whatsoever.

Oh, how he laughed. Not a quick little inconvenienced laugh as he squirmed away, but a proper, desperate belly laugh. This was theirs and only theirs. Jim the only one Bones trusted to know this intimately. He was grabbing at Jim’s wrists now, but despite his strength he wasn’t pushing Jim away. Merely steadying himself.

Whatever they were and whatever they had, it always had and always would include this.

“I should tie you up and torture you,” Jim teased, even though he’d never immobilized him during this and only tickled him for a couple of minutes at a time, but Bones had once become a stuttering mess when Jim had threatened this and he did love a flustered Bones, after all.

He was laughing too hard to stutter, but the way he was shaking his head told Jim all he needed to know. His words had left a mark and whatever he did now, wherever he touched, would be more ticklish than usual.

He got to work.

#tickling #ticklish!bones #ticklish!mccoy #mckirk fic #mckirk #star trek fic #star trek #mine #tickle cheating #ana's fics #tickle fic

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

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OTP tags

Thanks for the tag @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore, this was super fun though a bit specific - not everybody presses their nose to their partner’s cheek before kissing them!

Pairing - Bastien and Sophia from Protect and Serve and Silver Service

Who pulls the other closer while sleeping?

Bastien always wants to be close to his goddess and will chase her to the edge of the bed. Sophia has to disentangle herself on the nights when he snores badly in order to retreat to the spare room.

How do they wake up next to each other? Ex - Tangled in each other’s arms? Is one falling off the bed? etc.

It’s rare that they go to bed without making love, but it does happen when Bastien is tired or his thigh hurts. They are both spooners, and rarely sleep without touching (a little or a lot) but even if Sophia is the big spoon when they go to sleep, she is always the little spoon when they awake.

What movie do they watch when they both had a bad day and just want to turn off their brains for a little while?

Casablanca, The African Queen or the first two Bridget Jones movies.

Who picks something up, says a pun with the object then laughs as if it’s the funniest thing they ever heard?

Bastien does not have a well developed sense of humour – his jokes tend to be deadpan or ironic so it’s hard to tell if he’s serious or not. He always smiles at any silly joke Sophia comes up with.

How do they hype one another up?

Sophia knows stockings drive Bastien wild, and he can refuse her nothing if she promises to wear them. If she is actually wearing them, all other items of clothing are removed at the first opportunity, and you can probably guess where that leads...

Bastien’s deep voice and the things he tells her he wants to do to her is the trigger that drives Sophia to distraction.

When one of them gets a new outfit, how does the other react?

He always notices what his goddess wears, but is eager to discover how to remove a new article – buttons, zips, poppers? How fast can he get her out of it when needed?

Sophia sometimes finds it hard to distinguish between Bastien’s suits – he knows what he likes, and if he likes a shirt or jacket he will buy more than one. She always notices when he changes his tie or cufflinks. Casual wear is another thing altogether, and Sophia occasionally buys him things she would like to see him wear.

Who tries to playfully scare the other person and who always knows where the other person is?

Bastien is impossible to scare due to his training, although he’s not keen on Sophia driving him anywhere – she’s a competent driver but he likes to be in control. He would never scare his goddess. They sometimes lose track of each other in the Palace as it’s so big, but the instant her lover is near, Sophia knows. Bastien pretends to know, but she drops off his radar from time to time.

When they grocery shop, what is one section they love to playfully mess around in and why?

Living at the palace, all their meals are provided, so until they leave staff quarters it will be unlikely that they go food shopping for now. In the past Sophia loved to linger at the cheese counter or look over the fishmonger’s offerings but there was nothing playful about it. That’s reserved for the lingerie department…

When their partner has a bad day, what is something the other picks up to try and make their day a little better? Ex - Fast food, flowers, a punny card, etc.

Sophia is ready to give Bastien a massage when he’s tired, or when his thigh bothers him, no need to buy anything. Bastien reciprocates with a foot massage, which Sophia enjoys so much they end up making love. He loves to buy her flowers, though she daren’t tell him she prefers to see flowers growing rather than cut and put in a vase. Cuddles are the order of the day if she’s feeling down.

Who runs up and hugs their partner while the other catches them?

Bastien would probably knock Sophia over her due to his solid muscular build and he can’t really manage running due to his injured thigh but she is the perfect weight for him to pick up and spin around.

What song reminds them of each other?

Andy Williams ‘Can’t take my Eyes off You’ is one, and ‘I only have Eyes for You’ by Simon and Garfunkel. Bastien finds classic older songs bring his lover to mind. Sophia has yet to find the perfect song, as Bastien is so unique. ‘Wicked Thing’ does come close though…

Who presses their nose against their partner’s cheek before kissing them?

It’s not a regular thing, but Sophia has been known to do so. She prefers to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

What small quirks do they love about each other?

Nothing about Bastien is small and Sophia loves it all. Bastien has noticed that she scrunches her nose up while concentrating and finds it adorable.

Who accidentally snorts when they laugh and that makes both of them laugh harder?

Again, this is not common, but Sophia is more likely to be the snorter. Bastien is more inclined to chuckle and has been known to guffaw.

What are some things that they do for one another because they know their partner hates it? Ex- do the dishes, phones to make an order, talks to sales clerk. etc.

Housework is not a problem living in staff quarters at the Palace, but Bastien is methodical and fearless; he will tackle anything. Finding hairs in the sink or shower does horrify him however, so Sophia always cleans up after herself, and makes sure every tube and bottle is arranged neatly in the bathroom and en suite wherever they go.

Bastien will take up any complaint Sophia has, whether it’s at a restaurant or boutique – being English she is far too polite to protest over poor service.

Tagging @bobasheebaby, @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria, @katedrakeohd, @sirbeepsalot Tags for Bophia fans in the comments

#fluff abc #bastien lykel #trr bastien #OC x Bastien #sophia x bastien

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mrsarnasdelicious · 6 years

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Dating Raphael Would Involve

A/N: I totes get why Raph is the more popular of the bara turts. There seem to be the most posts about him and my posts about his get the most traction.

Having a big bara teddy bear turtle protector boyfriend

No, for real Raph is such a softy when it comes to you

He just wants you protected and happy at all costs

He’s been in the hashi so many times for breaking rules to make sure you are fine and dandy

Breaks his patrol a lot to pop by

‘I’m just making sure yer fine’

‘Raph I’m good, don’t break patrol on my account’

He wants to see you every goddamn day

He’ll try to have you over at the lair as often as he can

Ya know bc your place isn’t really turtle proof

Might try to convince you to let Donnie turtle proof your place anyway

Is the most cuddly turt on this planet

He is so touchy feely

Whenever you are in close proximity his fingers are itching to touch you

He has to be touching you all the darned time

Wether small touches or big touches

But he is always gentle

Unless you ask him not to be

BACK HUGS

His crotch up against your ass

His face nosed into the nape of your neck

‘Fuck baby, ya smell so good’

In that great brooklyn accent

Lots of cuddles in bed too

The shield makes spooning a bit hard, he will either have you tucked against his side, or draped on top of him

In fact Raph love sleeping with you draped all over him

Holding you close and save in his arms

During the day, he will touch you more casually

Putting his hands on your hips

Nosing at your hair

Putting his hands on your shoulders

Rubbing gently

Playing with your hair

Patting your butt

Good fuck he loves your butt

Makes grabby hands at it every day

Grabbing, groping, patting, spanking, rubbing, kissing, biting

Has this morning ritual when you are in front of the sink or some cupboard he needs to be at, he will lift you by the hips and just plop you out of the way

Can carry you on one arm

Is so soft for anything you do

Loves tf out of your laugh

Will do anything to make you smile and laugh

Tends to cuddle you close when you smile or laugh

Because he has no idea what do with himself at those points

Like, you make him feel so mushy and warm inside

And when that happens he is like ‘what am I to do with this excess of appendages??!!??’

SUCH A KISSER

Kisses you everywhere

At your place, at his place, on the street at night, in the park

On your forehead, on your nose, on your cheeks, on your temples, on your eyelid, on top of your head

Presses the tips of your fingers against his lips

On your knuckles, on the back of your hand, on your shoulders

Presses kisses in the palm of your hand ‘for later’

Kisses your neck so much

Can never resist making a hickey there

Kisses down your spine

Even kisses your feet

Would kiss the fucking ground you walk on if that so pleased you

Can be very dominant

Can be very submissive

Loves it best when you praise him

Constantly looks for your approval

Brings you small and meaningful gifts

Has a habbit of cutting out quotes that are meaningful to you, from magazines or newspapers or whatever and pins them on a special board by his best

Have I mentioned yet that Raph is a big softy?

Bc he is

Is a gentleman, secretly

Holding doors, pulling out chairs

Ya know, the stuff

Is also possessive as hell

He has such a good thing with him

And he ain’t letting that go

After sex snuggles usually involving Raphael nosing you hair and going ‘mine mine mine’

He tells you he loves you quite a lot

Part of his need for approval and confirmation

He gets really insecure when you don’t say it back

Texts you good morning and good night if you are not right beside him

Loves it when you massage his scalp

Not a boob guy, but will snuggle his face between your breasts when snuggling

While grabbing at your butt

Gods he is such a softy

Her gives you the softest petnames too

Sweetie/Sweatheart/Baby/Kitten/Purrrdy

And yes he rolls that rrrr

Want to celebrate every fucking holiday with you

Give it his 100% effort

That boyfriend that is perfectly happy to bake cookies with you

Is weak af for you feeding him

Brush your teeth, this bara’s sweetness with give you cavaties otherwise

Is so afraid of you not liking him well enough in comparison to humans

Is so weak to you complimenting him

Compliments you twice as much to make up for it

Literally would compliment you on the way you fart

Everything you do is great to him

Or as Donnie says ‘Raph wouldn’t even be surprised if I told him the sun shines out of Y/N’s ass’

Bc Raph treats you, looks at you and handles you like it does either way

Splinter is so happy Raph has someone like you

You mellow him out a bit

Donnie is your best friend

He always gives you that ‘I am proud of you’ smile for easing Raph out

#tmnt raphael #tmnt raph x reader #bara turtles #tmnt bayverse #tmnt would involve

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absentlyabbie · 5 years

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Flommy. Soulmate AU of sorts. Kiiiind of canon divergence, very loosely.

First, the canon divergence:

So all the pre island shit still happens. Rebecca Merlyn dies when her son is eight years old. Her husband abandons their child to gnash his teeth on a global tour and develop his plan for class warfare and eventual class genocide. Thea Queen is conceived and born. Tommy Merlyn grows up under neglect and contempt as his father manipulates and strong arms his fellow one percenters into committing to his deeply shady undertaking, becoming more criminal and morally bankrupt the deeper they all get into Malcolm’s plan. Oliver Queen grows up lost and misunderstood and acts out as badly as a rich white boy can until he’s looking to sabotage every relationship he has (that isn’t with Tommy) because he doesn’t like himself and doesn’t know who else to be.

Instead of boarding a boat to China that Malcolm sabotages, setting into motion the chain of events that make Ollie into the Hood, the Queen men elect to fly. (Not sure yet how Sara is involved but she probably is; also the flight thing might not be how it goes down) and Malcolm has them kidnapped before they reach the airport.

It’s a huge national story. Billionaire CEO and playboy heir abducted and missing for three weeks. No calls for ransom. No leads. So many tabloid stories being nasty at Moira and about Robert’s history of infidelity.

Meanwhile, Oliver and Robert are held at an obscure facility as both are interrogated and at times tortured, as Malcolm seeks to know how, he believes, Robert is planning to betray him.

Robert gives away nothing, but two weeks in, Oliver is in terrible shape, often tortured to try and break Robert. Robert in their cell does his shitty confession and putting his burdens on his son, making Oliver memorize names and dirty deals and connections and giving him cryptic clues to a cache of incriminating evidence against Malcolm and all the others. Then Robert makes a half assed escape attempt, wresting a gun from a guard and trying to force them to set them free. When it’s clear that won’t work, he apologizes to Oliver and shoots himself in the head, hoping that with no more reason to hold him, they’ll let Oliver go.

Oliver, crazed by grief and days of torture, violently assaults the remaining two captors, disabling one. Little does he realize the authorities have found them and the FBI sweeps in just as Oliver finishes beating a guard to death.

This helps get him into the situation that comes next.

Oliver ends up turning state’s evidence. To protect his mother and sister, to get revenge for his father, and because he is threatened with a trial by agent Amanda Waller.

So, traumatized, changed forever, and on a mission, Oliver can’t bear to return to Starling. When Tommy tries to visit him, before it’s known it was Malcolm behind it all, the encounter goes very badly. Oliver is dark, angry, obsessed. They feel impossibly far from one another. Tommy goes home heartbroken and feeling abandoned again. Oliver pursues revenge disguised as justice. This however leads only to more pain.

Two revelations come at the same time: his mother was as deep in as his father and therefore could be subject to prosecution, regardless of the pressures that put her there. Also, at last, the man behind it all. Malcolm Merlyn, his best friend’s father.

Oliver knows this will destroy Tommy’s life. For that alone he would hesitate. But. But. Malcolm is poison. A monster. And he has only one chance to broker a deal to save his mother, and giving up Tommy’s father is it.

And so, the Undertaking is averted, but its full scope revealed to all. Malcolm is arrested and charged. Oliver could only bring himself to tell Tommy at the last minute. The two are in such hurt and anger they do not speak for the next few years. Still, Tommy does testify at his father’s trial. For the state. He corroborates details and speaks to Malcolm as a father: cold, cruel, exacting and contemptuous. Tommy is dragged in the press plenty on his own. The final nail in the coffin of it all is when Malcolm flies into a rage at the Merlyn house the last day of the trial and almost kills his son.

Malcolm is sentenced to life in prison for numerous crimes, including conspiracy to commit domestic terrorism and attempted murder of his own child. In prison, soon after, he is killed in a prison riot (actually dead or orchestrated disappearance? Who knows.)

Meanwhile Tommy is left to grieve and process and pick up the shattered pieces of his life. The Queens leave Starling, and Oliver becomes almost a hermit to, like, bodybuild and try to psychologically heal and hopefully stay out of Waller’s clutches. Tommy stays in Starling, his trust and assets and inheritance tied up or seized at large by the federal government, the board of Merlyn Global desperately seeking a rebranding or possibly overall firesale, and the city and world in general associates his last name with violent class hatred and corruption.

Years pass. Oliver and Tommy don’t talk. Oliver does not return to Starling. Tommy regains fractions of his fortune over time, maybe opens a business, definitely opens several clinics, charities, and nonprofits across the city. To some he is a hero, a prince of redemption. To others he’ll never shine bright enough to be free of his father’s shadow. Laurel is his good friend and he has been quietly repressedly in love with her for some time, and doing nothing about it.

Now, the concept:

Soulmates happen, though they’re referred to as soul bonded. They’re not always romantic relationships. It’s a metaphysical bond between people uniquely suited to understand, support, and be complemented by one another.

Being bonded is not a given. It happens, not infrequently, but not so much so that everyone can assume it will happen to them.

Being bonded also doesn’t mean there can’t be breakdowns in the relationship. It’s still something you have to choose to work at. Being bonded just means really that this is a person so well suited to being a vital part of your life, why wouldn’t you choose to work at maintaining it?

So. The way it works. You encounter a person who is your bond partner in the wild, and a mark appears, typically near the chest region, often over the heart or center of the sternum (anomalies do occur.) You can’t miss it because it appears with a feeling almost like you’ve been branded, and it’s described by those who experience it as an electric current tethering you suddenly to your bond partner. You become hyper aware of them.

To outsiders, the bondmark is unmistakable. They couldn’t draw it or describe it in detail, but there is something visceral in the human brain that recognizes it, and recognizes when they match. Even when directly photographed, this holds true to observers.

In this way, bond marks cannot be copied or forged. They cannot be imitated with tattooing or obscured by scars or burns.

(Because even in stories I’ll never write I go hard on world building.)

The bond does confer certain unique connections. Not like telepathy or viewing through one another’s eyes or walking in dreams. But that hyper awareness of your bond partner doesn’t go away. It’s almost an empathetic awareness. It hums, and it carries non verbal understanding, and it feels most settled and right when the partners are together and spend time with one another as best suits who they both are and the dynamic they establish between them.

New bonds are tricky. They are intense and absorbing, and can even be uncomfortable and strange and almost obsessive at times. This newness can last for a period of typically three to eight weeks. This period is referred to as “settling.”

It’s the time during which the new bond through physical and psychological stimuli encourages the new partners to get to know and become comfortable and familiar with one another.

This is typically characterized as a time when new bond partners have difficulty focusing on things unrelated to their partner for long stretches, and a need to not just be in each other’s presence, but often physical contact. This may mean cuddling, sitting closely, thoughtless, casual intimate touches. Ignoring or denying these settling urges can lead to physical discomfort, anxiety, and emotional and mental distress.

Bond partners who are romantically or just physically suited often get rapidly intimately involved during this period, though that doesn’t always mean it will stay that way, and it’s not a given.

(You can be bonded to more than one person, of course. Multiple people can even be bonded to each other. For now the idea is Flommy but let’s not pretend OT3 isn’t always an option with me and it’s definitely an option this concept allows for.)

That’s the other thing, though. First: bonds do not manifest until after maturity, typically no earlier than age 20.

Second, and this is the thing least understood: bonds most often manifest when mature partners first encounter one another. BUT not always, especially with people who knew each other prior to maturity.

There’s a lot of theories, most popular that the bond manifests when both partners are ready to be bonded, or in other words, have grown into the version of themselves truly suited to their partner. But no one really knows. It’s not an exact science.

And plenty of scientific research has indeed been done on soul bonding. There’s a department of the national health organization dedicated to it, legal provisions made for bonded partners, including work and school accommodations for those in the settling period.

(Settling can typically be physically measured through hormones via bloodwork.)

There are societal benefits to bonded relationships after all. Bonded partners tend to be more stable members of society, the possibility of your bonded being anyone promotes empathy, outreach, and social safety nets being extended more broadly, and on the local scale, many studies have shown that bonded partners have a stabilizing, sometimes even calming effect on their immediate social groups and environments.

And of course, there’s plenty of media romanticism of bonded relationships. It’s the biggest subgenre of romance books and films, but is often prevalent in all other genres, especially popular in law enforcement/war story/etc stories.

Now for the actual story:

Tommy visits Queen Consolidated one day to try and woo the board into partnering with one of his charities. He leaves uncertain if they will take it as an opportunity for redemptive PR or treat associating with a man named Merlyn like bathing in radioactive waste. On his way out through the lobby, he literally runs into a cute blonde he wouldn’t have really glanced at twice.

And nothing will ever be the same.

The bonding is instant, electric, and undeniable. However, it is also... unwelcome.

Neither of them is remotely happy that it happens.

Tommy is in love with Laurel and has been talking himself into making a real move. This is the worst timing. And bonding or not, the idea of letting someone get close to him like that is terrifying. He has been abandoned and betrayed and discarded his whole life. In his mind, not even a bonding can make someone want to keep him around in any capacity.

And if they do, he would think it was only because they “had to” because that bond. That’s not how bonding works, but it’s a popular and persistent misconception.

And new bonds can put serious strain on preexisting relationships. When opposite sex, attraction-compatible partners are bonded, the general public has a hard time believing it’s not sexual and/or romantic, and even still insecurity and jealousy from nonbonded romantic partners can complicate matters.

So Tommy is exasperated and suspicious and unhappy.

Felicity is no happier, however.

New bondings require mandatory paid leave from work during the settling period and Felicity has been trying to make advancement finally happen in her career at QC. And bonding leave has historically had a more negative effect on women’s career trajectory than men’s.

It’s still our world, unfortunately.

It’s no different than women starting families.

Beyond even just the career implications, however, Felicity has never wanted to be bonded. Not in any way she’d admit to anyways.

Her parents were bond partners. And still her father walked away from them when she was six.

Her mother, when she is drunk and feeling reflective, will admit they were never meant to be romantic partners. He was her best friend. They rarely slept with each other after settling, but it wasn’t never. The pregnancy wasn’t planned. Donna was delighted. Her husband had never wanted children.

And while he loved Felicity, he never really took to fatherhood. The strain broke down their relationship. And even bonded, when you stop communicating, and circumstances are adverse to both partners’ needs being met, and you stop working on your relationship... no relationship is perfect or safe forever from hurt. Not even a soul bonded one.

(Because in my concept, being soulmates isn’t a magical fix for everything. It’s too much an easy button sometimes. I find that dissatisfying.)

Now, what happened between Felicity’s parents isn’t impossible. It’s even understandable, if tragic nonetheless. And her father still made cruel choices in abandoning them and never returning.

But Felicity was six and it hurt her deeply while her ideas of the world were still forming. She decided as she grew up that bonding was bullshit and looking to be bonded so you could feel safe or be happy was asking to get your heart broken, a fairy tale you would be stupid to trust.

So now here she is, bonded to someone whose last name is almost synonymous with domestic terrorism, who doesn’t want to be bonded either, and is in love with someone else. And right when she’s trying to take control of her career, too. Add to that how impossible it will be to maintain her happily anonymous life when bonded to one of Starling’s most infamous sons and none of this looks like a good time.

But you can’t take back a bonding. You can’t undo or break it. Some people are made to have a home in your heart, and the best you could do is evict them and board it up. Still leaves a chamber empty. You can live with it, but you’ll always feel it. And the settling is unavoidable. Even if you choose to never see each other again after, you have to get through settling first.

(You cannot, by the way, be bonded to someone who would truly abuse you. If they would rape or willingly harm you, they’d never be the person so suited to you that you were bound.)

Like there are ways to get through settling on the bare minimum. If both partners are not interested in fostering their connection to its full potential, they can do the least possible to get through settling with minimal discomfort, then simply choose to drift apart and not keep up with each other or stay in contact. (Even then, though, you’re still bonded. Sometimes you’ll just Know something is happening. You’ll feel the urge to reach out, to look in on their life. Hearing about them will always make you pensive for a while. But it’s up to you what to do about any of that.)

Felicity got this far forcefully assuming she’d never be bonded with anyone. Insisting to herself and anyone who asked that she actively didn’t want to be. Tommy had always thought if he bonded with anyone it’d be Oliver. And when that didn’t happen at 20, and things fell out as they did, he assumed... well. He was too broken. Too fundamentally unlovable. Too tainted by the loneliness of his childhood and the selfish monstrosity of his father. His parents weren’t bonded. They chose each other completely on their own, was how his mother put it. He used to think that was even more romantic. As he got older he talked himself into believing it was because of how terrible and cold a person Malcolm was, incapable of bonding equally to anyone at all. Talked himself into believing he must be enough like his father to be similarly incapable of bonding.

(And you know, in every soulmate au I’ve ever toyed with that’s held true. Tommy has always assumed it would be Oliver.)

So when the bond happens to Tommy and Felicity completely out of the blue, two perfect strangers, oh they are pissed. And resistant. They assume they will get through settling and never bother one another ever again if they can manage it.

They want very much to keep it quiet.

That lasts less than a day.

After all, it happened in public. Bondings aren’t entirely commonplace but they’re not rare. If you’ve ever witnessed one, you knew it. That sense of electric connection isn’t imaginary, and at point of contact, can be felt like a ripple by those around the connection. Like holding your hand up to an old tv boxset screen just after turning it off.

All it takes is for someone to follow the feeling back and realize they recognize one of the people now staring at each other with their hands on their chests.

A call to a newspaper or tabloid. “Tommy Merlyn just got soul bonded in the lobby of Queen Consolidated!”

The news is spreading before Tommy and Felicity are even properly grappling with it. By the time they’ve had their first conversation and already decided they want to settle quietly and go their separate ways, it’s already a Twitter rumor and the trashiest tabloid in town is putting out speculation about the mystery bond partner of the infamous Merlyn son.

So. Tommy and Felicity don’t get to settle quietly. The first dent in Felicity’s knee jerk hostility towards Tommy is when he immediately works to do what he can to keep her identity concealed once it’s out there that she exists, just not who she is.

Things get complicated fast too. They can’t keep her identity hidden for long at all, though it matters that Tommy tries, and when higher ups at QC find out that the new bond partner of Tommy Merlyn is an employee of theirs (and a bonafide trending topic), it shifts their standing on his proposal for partnership.

He was right that they were leaning towards not partnering with his charity out of a conservative desire to keep the Merlyn and Queen names still separate. It’s only been five years after all. But as interest in Felicity grows it will be impossible to avoid connection since she works there, and if they fired her to try and cover their asses they’d open themselves up to a lawsuit and public backlash. It’s bad optics to make employment decisions based on a person’s bond partner(s), and if provable is illegal in certain circumstances. It’s also wildly unpopular with the public.

So they pivot to cozying up and trying to maximize on it. They’ll do the partnership and even go over the requested funding, but only if Felicity agrees to participate in the PR push. They intend to go with the partnership/redemption/community healing spin.

And won’t it look pretty to partner with a Merlyn charity for lower income health care initiatives with Tommy Merlyn showing up with their employee, much closer to that class than his own, on his arm.

All of this is complicated by the initiative rolling out the pr push during their settling period, a time most new partners choose to stay out of public by and large.

It can be pushed back slightly, but not enough.

So that will be Felicity’s first public appearance as bond partner to Tommy Merlyn, at a donor gala soliciting funding for free clinics and other low income healthcare initiatives.

In the meantime, they have to actually deal with their settling period, and hope they can be balanced enough at the time of the gala not to be petting each other in front of the press corps.

After all, what happens when you have two deeply lonely and desperately touch starved people bonded at the soul level?

Intense need and desire for physical contact.

Most new partners actually move in together during their settling period because need for prolonged physical contact between bond partners is extremely common.

Think Tommy running his hand up and down Felicity’s arm. Felicity absently playing with his hair when they’re alone. And Felicity’s gala dress will have a plunging neckline (showcasing the mark) and an even more plunging back. Tommy will not be able to stop running his hand down her spine. He isn’t even conscious of it most of the time. She hardly is either, just unconsciously leaning into the instinctive comfort of it. But there will be plenty written about it before press time the next day.

The touching starts soon in the settling process. Before they realize it tbh. They’re angrily telling each other they don’t want this and yet they keep touching each other. Hand on her arm to pull her out of the lobby to talk privately. Pushing at his chest to underscore her point. Etc.

He probably guides her to an unused conference room or whatever and she probably immediately ignores him to start unbuttoning her shirt in a panic, looking for her mark, brand new and right smack in the middle between her breasts. Tommy wigs out at that and they’re on the wrong foot from the jump.

(Tommy’s is upper left pectoral. Literally right above his heart)

“Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa, I did not drag you in here for sex, stop undressing!”

“Shut up! I need to see it. Don’t you need to see it? I can feel it. Oh my god. Oh my god, this can’t be happening to me. Do you see it? Tell me this isn’t real.”

They probably argue until the frustrated tears in her eyes lead him to suddenly unbutton his own shirt and prove to them both the marks are real.

But every second since the bonding that electric hum ratchets up til it’s an impossible to ignore itch. They part ways at some point, within hours after, but it’s hardly dark out before Felicity is getting in her car. She tells herself she’s just too damn ansty to be still and needs to go driving. She winds up outside his apartment building without even knowing that’s where she is. He thinks he’s gone downstairs to take a walk and sees her instead.

So Felicity goes up to Tommy’s place once they realize they were literally being drawn to each other. She spends the night there. They talk long into the night, admittedly a lot of it arguing and snarking, but once they’re sitting on the couch with no space between them he starts playing with her fingers without even realizing it. Once they do, they both just watch his fingers toying with hers in loaded silence until she abruptly bursts into tears.

He’s startled, panicking and trying awkwardly to comfort her and please tell him if he did something wrong. But she’s so frustrated with her tears and it’s making her cry harder. She only barely, figuring it out out loud, manages to articulate that she can’t remember the last time someone just touched her like this, and it’s killing her, and she doesn’t want him to stop and that scares her.

And he terrifies himself by nearly crying too because fuck he gets that. He wants so badly for her to just please let him keep touching her like this, because it hurts how much his skin aches to touch another person so simply, just simple human contact, and he’s not sure that’s okay and why would she want to let him touch her, and how do you even ask for things like that without sounding like a creep?

And she doesn’t look at him like he’s evil incarnate, or the son of it. It helps that she moved to Starling after it all happened. She heard about it, but in the abstract way you hear about local taxes going up, or how everyone hates that one sports team.

He was an abstract concept. She didn’t research him or read the articles or follow his big moves into charity work.

He’s just a person to her.

He’s just himself.

Everyone has baggage.

His is just larger scale as far as she’s concerned.

Not that they get into that right away. That first night is still kinda awkward. The getting to know you small talk mixed with late night slumber party deepness interspersed with bouts of silence and a whole lot of cautious casual touching.

But it does make them realize that they’re going to have to deal seriously with being bonded and especially settling.

Whiiiich necessitates certain moves.

First, Felicity has to deal with work. Before the board has moved on their big idea, she puts in her notice of bonding, starting the paperwork to initiate her government mandated settling leave.

The process is completed by a doctor's note stating that bloodwork shows she is indeed in the settling phase of bonding.

Which precipitates their next stop.

Most hospitals and clinics have specialists for this sort of thing. Not just for bloodwork but for sort of... entrance counseling. They talk to the partners separately, confirm bloodwork, provided documentation legally recognizing the bond, and if the partners choose, they can then also be counseled together. It’s the point at which most people get their questions answered about both being bonded and the settling process.

In his individual session, Tommy is probably asking questions about the practicalities of settling, and how to maintain relationships outside a settling bond, and what to do about being in love with someone else while the bond is making you focus on a different person entirely.

(His doctor, a handsome black man in his later thirties, smiles in amusement at that and reminds him not all bonds are romantic and they are certainly not automatically exclusive of other relationship possibilities.)

But Felicity.

Felicity is after the numbers and statistics. How many bondings go badly, what’s the average length of a settling period, what percentage are platonic vs romantic, and do bond partners who are attraction-compatible always end up romantically or sexually involved or can they remain platonic from the start?

So many questions. Her doctor is a youngish Latina woman, close to 30, maybe a little past, and she takes Felicity’s frenzied questions in stride, patient and reassuring but not condescending. When Felicity asks that last question the conversation veers a bit.

“Do you want the speech I’ve already given you about your continued autonomous freedom to choose and control over your actions? Or do you want more numbers and statistics?”

“Numbers, please. Unknowns bother me. Not like scare me, but they bother me, I just need to know, I need cold, hard numbers. Numbers are trustworthy, numbers are reliable.”

He doctor gives her a tolerantly skeptical look. “The cold, hard numbers it is then. In most studies and surveys, the numbers have been pretty consistent. This doesn’t change anything I said about choice or your control over your decisions, but statistics wise? Typically, for attraction-compatible partners, in all honesty, it’s above 80% odds that the partners at some point become romantically or sexually involved. It doesn’t always remain that way, but that’s the odds of involvement at some point over the lifetime of the bond.”

Felicity gapes. “Eight... eighty percent? More than eighty percent?”

Doc nods. “More than 80%. Of course, that does include brief flings and even oneoff intimate encounters. Are you ready for more numbers?” Felicity gulps and nods. “About 93% of those partners get romantically or sexually involved during the settling period. Even if it never happens again, if it’s going to, the odds are overwhelmingly in favor of it being during the most intense period of the bond, while it’s still new and the partners haven’t found their balance quite yet. After all, it’s a very absorbing, intensely emotional period.”

Felicity sits there looking poleaxed. The doc looks at her a little pityingly. “Still prefer those numbers?”

Felicity groans and falls backward on the examination table. “So I’m definitely going to sleep with him? Or, ugh, fall in love with him?”

The doc shakes her head, rolling her eyes heavenward while Felicity isn’t looking. “Not definitely. But it’s a strong possibility.” Felicity muffles a low scream in her forearms. The doc snorts and, when Felicity sits back up, smiles brightly. “But hey, even if it does happen you don’t have to worry about getting pregnant. Protection is still best in all cases, but an aspect of the hormone cocktail that indicates the settling period does preclude the possibility of successful conception.”

Felicity is not really reassured by this.

So Tommy asks the existential questions at the clinic and Felicity asks how screwed (ha) they are by statistics. Neither is feeling particularly awesome about things after their individual counseling sessions but because they are stupid they opt not to also be counseled as a pair.

They’re morons who are resisting the trust and communication aspect of being bonded.

Idk if I’d end up splashing plot around on this thing or just focus solely on the relationship aspect.

Regardless, even if plot, large focus would be on these two getting to know each other during settling and slowly realizing that the bond—and each other—might be exactly what they needed in their lives. It would be hellaaaaa slow burn.

And then there’s the option to expand.

Tommy and Felicity settle before I’d let Oliver butt in, that’s certain. Adding him to the mix too early would be a disaster.

So big focus on Tommy/Felicity relationship development. Lots of talking and cuddling and minor metaphysics. Eventual shift towards the romantic, and its undoubted accompanying angst.

But also possibly some at least minor plot developments in regards to Felicity pushing to further her career, and plenty of entanglement with Tommy’s reputation and unearned notoriety as well as his efforts to make up for his father’s sins by furthering the legacy of his mother’s life’s work.

I’m thinking there miiiight be an incident of some sort at the charity gala.

Not sure if like... an actual attack aimed at Tommy or like disgruntled people going too far.

And I have this line in my head of them like hiding out in a dark spot somewhere and Tommy miserably apologizing for dragging her into his family bullshit. “You were living a normal, safe life until I happened to you. I’m so sorry.”

And Felicity is half ignoring him as she tries to figure out how to help the situation, and just smirks at him wryly. “Please don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the most interesting thing to ever happen to me.”

And of course at some point in the chaos they’ll get separated and it will drive them crazy, frantically searching through the crowd until they find each other. The photo of them clinging desperately to each other once reunited probably makes a few front pages.

Laurel may or may not be there, and Tommy will no doubt end up deeply conflicted about that.

Felicity at some point follows him around on the job with his various charities and nonprofits he’s either started or is deeply involved in and she develops a troubling passion for the work he does. Troubling because she initially wonders if it’s her own passion or something she’s picking up from him.

She starts making mental notes of things that could be improved.

Not on purpose. But when she notices things that could help she can’t just not tell him of course.

And that’s it that’s the meta thus far.

@abuiltinremedy @sweetme86 @illgiveyouallofme @arrowsgirlfriday @folly1977 @memcjo @it-was-a-red-heeler @karolstrange @hungrytiger11 @adeusminhacolombina @lfcoffee @trinket-the-bear @tosailuponthesea @julandran @fiore-della-valle @deathandindignitybedamned @obscure-sentimentalist @dullbittylife @posterchildforinsanity @msbeccieboo @mell-bell @thebravething @lemmyeatspeaches @soaringcities @inevermindyou @sickandtwisteddoc @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline

#arrow #arrow meta #flommy #felicity smoak #tommy merlyn #oliver queen #arrow au #arrow fic #arrow fanfiction #flommy soulmate au #cover photo from unsplash

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curiousdelights · 6 years

Text

Safe Places

Pairing: ZEN / Hyun Ryu x MC (Yejin Jung)

Plot: Evening talks and cuddling. Thoughts are shared and reassurances are given. Love is ever-present. Pure fluff. Enjoy their conversation. 💕

Song rec: Jessica Jung - “Starry Night”

Super late entry for @lovelyzenweek lol I hope it’s okay Day 06: Late nights / Stars

A/N: I hope it’s not a bother to use a name for MC. That’s legit the name I used when I played ZEN’s route, haha. 💕

The sound of keys fumbling with each other against the door lock resounded through the hallway. Metal against metal had never sounded more inviting like tonight, and Yejin knew why.

Hyun had been working more and later than usual these days. It surely was a blessing that he had been cast in a two-month long production of a new musical, yet it did pose problems with regards to their time together. Of course, Yejin couldn’t complain. Hyun had been extremely excited about this lead role: a young man who traveled the country in search for his lost love, slowly documenting to himself the lives in the places he had gone to. He found the role interesting and challenging in the sense that the lead must experience the changing emotions of man, the rage, the heartbreak, and the ultimate acceptance of loss.

It was truly a good musical. Yejin had been there for the first showing—VIP seats at that, too—and brought flowers for Hyun as congratulations and treating him to a very nice meal afterwards. She was proud of him and still is. However, even she herself had work to tend to and thus couldn’t accompany her love for every show, no matter how much Hyun would persuade her. She didn’t mind going, but she would remind him teasingly that he wasn’t the only one making a living. That, and Yejin knew she would have an overdose of the musical itself. She liked theater enough but to see the same show every week could prove taxing. She promised herself, however, that she would be there for the final night.

Due to the busy weeks on Hyun’s side, he tended to come home late from rehearsals and full shows. Yejin would be asleep and Hyun never wanted to wake her, but for a few times she caught him sometimes pressing kisses on her cheeks and shoulders.

She missed more of that.

So for this night that she’s hearing the door opening, her surprise was growing pleasant. Was Hyun really home early?

Yejin had just finished cleaning up the kitchen after her dinner and had to peek through towards the entranceway to see.

“… Hyun?” She called out, but she wasn’t so sure if it was loud enough.

And surely, there he was! Decked out still in a light grey coat and black outfit (he loved that simple style, by the way), Hyun was in the progress of removing his shoes when his head shot up at the sound of his dearest’s voice. He knew Yejin to be louder than usual, but when she spoke in that soft tone, he might as well just melt right then and there.

With a wave of his hand, a wide grin, and a wink, he finally greeted her. “Honey, I’m home.”

Yejin snickered. “Let me guess: you always wanted to try saying that?”

“Okay, you got me there. So?” He held out his arms wide open. “Welcome home kiss and hug?”

“What a cheeseball.” She told herself, but despite that, she knew she was weak when it came to such invitations. Yejin shook her head and walked down to the entranceway, bursting into a jog when she neared Hyun to jump into the embrace and savor the warmth he emanated when his arms rounded her body.

“I missed this.” She told him as she turned her head up to look at him and plant a big one on Hyun’s lips.

He laughed through the contact, squeezing the other tighter in his hold and teasing her as he moved his lips to kiss more of her face then down to her neck where he knew it tickled her. Her giggles were melodies to his ears.

“What do you mean you missed this? I kiss you all the time and everything!”

“I meant I missed it when we’re both awake. I feel bad enough that you have to catch me asleep most of the time.”

“Well we still wake up to each other, right?” His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief and his arms pulled her a little closer towards him. “Do you want to wake up in our more intimate way? I can do that often if you want, you know.”

“So can I.”

He instigated the teasing but he ended up becoming flustered himself at her knowing look. How could he forget that he also fell in love with her boldness like that? Yejin never showed it much in front of the others. It was only for Hyun and he preferred it that way.

“Hey, hey. Don’t tease me too much. The night’s still young but I can make it last longer than—“

Yejin cut him off with a laugh and finally pulled herself off from the embrace. “I know. But we can wait, right? I just ate a pretty heavy meal tonight since I skipped lunch earlier.”

“And why’d you do that?” He asked, his voice almost stern. He pulled his coat off and hung it on the rack. “You know I hate it when you skip meals.”

“Yeah, but I had to finish off a lot of work for the week. I don’t want to go back on Tuesday with leftover projects.” She explained. “How about you? Did you have dinner?”

“Mhm. We had an early meal this time with the cast. Do we still have any beer?”

“The fridge never runs out of it.” Yejin turned to him before entering the kitchen again. “I’ll bring you a can. Go and rest first.”

“Thanks, babe—hm?” Hyun looked towards the couch. It was truly inviting to sit back down and turn on the television, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to just laze around like that, especially now that he and Yejin finally found some time together.

He chuckled then called out. Maybe a good moment at a good place would be a better choice.

“Babe, I’ll see you at the rooftop.”

She wasn’t sure if she heard him right, but once Yejin got back to the living room and found it empty, she just shook her head and smiled.

“Guess I’ll need a couple more cans.”

Yejin made her way up towards the rooftop. Since summer was nearing the end of its reign, her choice of a light sweater proved to be helpful. She opened the heavy, gray door to be greeted by a nice breeze and the view of her love leaning casually against the concrete edge of the place.

Always and always, he took her breath away even without doing anything. His figure against the dark night sky and the soft yellow lights of the roof’s lamps gave him an almost ethereal look.

It took her a while to regain her senses from that.

Hearing the hinges creaking stirred the actor up, and he turned to see Yejin with the beers in hand. His guilt on making her carry all that rose up fast and he almost ran towards her to take the beverages himself.

“Sorry, babe!” He laughed, almost a bit nervously, and kissed her forehead to make up for it. “I thought you were only gonna bring one.”

Yejin simply scrunched he face up at him in a funny way, making sure he doesn’t even blame himself for the smallest of things. Hyun really liked treating her like a princess after all but she sometimes had to remind him that even the prince himself is allowed to relax.

“I decided to drink, too.” She said as they made their way to the corner of the area, taking their seat on the bench available. “And since we’re up here, I know one serving won’t be enough for either of us.”

“You know the best as always. C’mere.” Hyun pulled Yejin close to him, lifting her legs up to drape them over his lap. That was their position there all the time and it hardly changed unless truly necessary.

He opened a can for her first then one for himself, motioning for a toast.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers indeed.” She watched Hyun as he gulped down a quarter of the contents. His eyes seemed to have trouble looking at her directly now and it made her worry. The very fact that he wanted to be up at the rooftop already made her think, anyway.

“Hyun?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me. What’s wrong?” Yejin already lifted her hand to touch Zen’s face but he followed her request soon afterwards anyway, realizing that he couldn’t really hide much from her. He was too expressive.

He still tried, though.

“It’s nothing.”

“Is something wrong at work?”

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong with that!”

She was almost pouting and whatever mood Hyun was in, he couldn’t ignore how cute she looked that way. He laughed a little but her concern only grew worse.

Finally, Hyun gave a nod towards her, a signal that he was going to talk now.

“I was just thinking about how much I must have neglected you these past days.”

That caught her off-guard and she turned confused. “What?”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “Someone at work sort of had that problem. It ate at him so much that I had to tell him to get a grip… in the nicest way possible, that is. He was still feeling pretty messed up but his act was coming in next. We couldn’t afford to let the audience see that. The director would’ve also been pissed.”

“What happened to him?”

“Well. His girlfriend actually broke up with him at the theater because he focused too much on work. You know how those stories go.”

Yejin nodded. She did hear about those things, more so than ever when she got familiar with Hyun’s industry.

She decided to be frank with him to clear the air fast. It was easy to see there was something running through his mind and God knows the reason why they had the alcohol was to ease up, too.

“Did you think that was going to happen to us?”

Yejin actually felt him stop all movement and his stare at her could have gone past what he could see.

“It’s not that…” He was trailing off almost unconsciously but he tried to explain his thoughts the best he could after another helping of beer.

Hyun sighed. “I’m not thinking of that but it did shake me a little, I guess. The way that guy was affected got to me but I have faith in you, Yejin. I remembered that and calmed myself down.”

She nodded. “I’m glad you didn’t doubt it.”

“I’d never! That’s why I don’t want you to feel bad about all my time away.”

“We actually already fought about that one time.”

“Yes. Yes, we did. It was silly, wasn’t it?”

The memory made the two of them laugh, surprising themselves at how easy they flipped the atmosphere with it. They didn’t meet halfway earlier on in the relationship. Hyun had gotten more roles since his rise to fame and had grown fond of each opportunity he was given. It meant more work on his side while Yejin focused on her own, but she had more free time compared to the other. He proved how much of a workaholic he was. Despite his knowledge about women, his lack of a relationship for a time prior to meeting his fated coordinator was a factor in the resulting fight. Hyun expected to be understood with his work and Yejin simply wanted a little more attention.

“How did we resolve that?” He asked as he put his arm around Yejin’s waist, pulling her closer to him to be able to give a small kiss on her cheek. She smelled of soft jasmine and he loved it. He could drown in that scent forever.

“Mm.” Yejin thought for a while, swirling the can in her hand. She looked at Hyun. “We went up here.”

There was a nod. “Right. It seems like everything happening to us goes back to the rooftop. We… shouted a little back then, huh?”

“Yeah, but we made up fast, I remember.” She said. “I didn’t want to fight in the first place.”

“Neither did I.” He put his now-empty can beside him and breathed deeply. “I shouldn’t be thinking of negative stuff when I have you beside me.”

“That’s okay. That’s why we talk and why we go up here.” She offered him a smile, ultimately to calm him down from the thoughts.

“You’re right.” Hyun smiled back at her before looking up at the sky. It was a beautiful and clear night without a speck of a cloud in sight. “Even the stars are witnesses to our relationship now. I’m sure we’re getting better at this. The god of fate is helping.”

She followed his gaze. “You mean the god you wanted to punch?”

“No. Not anymore. I said I’ll apologize to that god ‘cause he made us meet, right?”

Yejin laughed. “You remember that.”

“I remember a lot of things when we first met.” He told her. “I have no intentions of forgetting them.”

“Same here.” She replied as she slowly shifted her position on the bench to move closer and be able to rest her head on Hyun’s shoulder. “I really liked it when you showed me this place when I first came here.”

“I trusted you enough to show you one of my safe places.” He noticed that Yejin started playing around with his ponytail, his strands of silver hair dancing between her delicate fingers. It was cute. “I wanted to share it with you.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

“So do I.” He opened his other can and started to drink again while it was still cold. “You’re happy here, right?”

Yejin nodded. “Of course.”

“And you’re happy with me, right?”

“Yes. I love you.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. Yejin just blurted it out so easily and lovingly and he adored it every single time she did it. He moved to turn to her then, holding her face in his hands to plant a ton of kisses all over. “I love you just as much, and more.”

“Is that a challenge?” She teased, reciprocating his actions until they were sharing a mess of beer-laced kisses. “I’m so up for it.”

“Are you also up for my offer earlier?” His brow rose up flirtily. “About making the night last long for you and me?”

“Don’t you have rehearsals to do tomorrow, mister? I don’t think getting you exhausted tonight will help.”

“Oh? Didn’t I tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Hyun winked at her. “That I’ve got tomorrow off and until Monday afternoon. I was thinking of spending all that time with a certain special someone.”

She grinned. “Do you think that certain special someone is looking forward to it?”

“I hope she is. I’ve got a lot planned starting tonight.”

Yejin drank the rest of the contents of her can. “She’ll probably need a few more of these then.”

“Okay, you must be picking that habit up from me. Come on.” He laughed and carried her up in his arms, appreciating how she automatically held on to him. The squeal she made upon being lifted only made him all the more excited, too.

Suffice to say, that night definitely made up for the missed affections.

So there it is! I hope you guys liked and enjoyed it.

Tell me what you think lol I wanna know if it was okay. 💕

#lovelyzenweek #first official fic for mysme haha #i hope it turned out well!#aka i tried!!;; lmao #zen x mc #hyun ryu x mc #zen #hyun ryu #ryu hyun #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger fanfiction #mysme fanfiction #mystic messenger fics #mysme fics #mystic messenger zen #mystic messenger hyun ryu #my writings #mysme: safe places

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lillotte17 · 6 years

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*Screeching* @feynites I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!

Smutty Inquisitor Uthvir!

It is very early morning, and the light shining softly through the stain glass windows of the Inquisitor's bedchambers is still pale and watery. It dapples across the room in strange jumbled color patterns and little paint dabs of brightness. Not quite enough to chase away the long shadows of evening, but enough to rouse Aili from her sleep.

There is no immediate need to vacate the comfort of their bed, however. And, after two hard weeks in Emprise du Lion, she doubts that anyone will be expecting her to be up this early. Even Uthvir, who is usually awake and active several hours before she is, seems to be taking the opportunity to sleep in.

Perhaps that is not as surprising as it should be, though. The Inquisitor had seemed…unsettled about the whole place. The slave camp and the starving children in the frozen village. The vast amounts of the mountain range eaten up with red lyrium. They had ordered as much of the disturbing substance as possible to be cleared away from their campsites and insisted that a ward be set up in one of the village's larger abandoned houses to look after the survivors still recovering from exposure. They had even asked a few of the healthier ones to accompany them back to Skyhold to be inspected by Dagna.

They had not slept much. Not even after long days of hiking through the snow and fighting off crazed Templars. They had still thoroughly checked the perimeter of their camp each night, testing wards and making sure that every last trace of the Blighted lyrium had been uprooted and cleared away. And they reminded everyone at least five times a day not to touch the stuff without the proper layers of protection.

And they had not wanted her to touch it at all. Even though she had offered to help the scouts with their work and use all the same precautions. Granted, she was not over-eager to deal with the stuff, but she's never been the sort to hang back where it was safe while other people put their life on the line. Which is, admittedly not necessarily the best trait for a Keeper. But she still thinks she could have done a bit more than reinforce the wards around the camp.

Uthvir tends to be a bit…overzealous with their various methods of keeping her out of harm's way. It can be extremely exasperating. And surprisingly…a bit endearing, too.

They have been married for a little over two months, and she supposes they're likely lingering in the honeymoon stage of things. Aili can admit that she still catches herself feeling a bit overwhelmed at the idea that not only does she have a spouse, but she actually likes them. Well, to be fair, she knew that she liked Uthvir before she agreed to marry them. But she wasn't entirely sure she would like them as her spouse. She does, though. And to be perfectly honest, the feeling they have begun to evoke in her might soon be requiring a more powerful word.

It is a notion that had startled her quite a bit the first time it had crept across her mind. Not because falling in love with her spouse would be such a terrible thing, quite the contrary, but… She had assumed it would take her a bit more time. A few years at least. Aili had barely understood that they had been attempting to court her when they had first become engaged, and her expectations about political unions were that the married couple generally spent a lot of their time around each other feeling awkward.

There had been a period like that, of course, but no more than a week or two, really. And then things had settled back into more or less what they had already been building up before. Friendship. A friendship that… now happens to involve having sex on a regular basis.

That had been a little strange at first, too. Especially since Uthvir themselves seems to have some peculiarities about what they find enjoyable on that front. But Aili had asked to take things slowly, and they had. Maybe even a little slower than they really needed to. Uthvir is cautious about that sort of thing, though, and they were like that even before they had decided to get married.

Uthvir goes out of their way to come off as physically imposing, despite, or perhaps even because of their size. They possess a strong magical talent and a sharp and cunning tongue. They are clever, and even ruthless, on occasion, but they are not casually vicious. They don't hurt people for fun. They always listen to her opinions with respect, even when they did not agree with them. They waited for her consent to begin a proper courtship. They are genuinely protective of her, and even sweet, in their way. They ask for her advice and even seem to want her approval when making decisions involving the Inquisition, though they do not have to ask for either.

Uthvir makes her laugh. They ask her about her interests and her passions and encourage her studies into the history of their people. They do not mock her for being Dalish, even though they are not especially religious themselves. They do not ask her to be other than how she is, and sometimes they look at her and she thinks maybe…

But maybe not. She doesn't have enough experience to know for certain. But even if they do not feel the same way about her, they probably wouldn't mind if she was… If she felt…

"Uthvir?" Aili whispers softly, shifting slightly in their arms and reaching a hand up to gently touch their shoulder. She has learned that they are not fond of unexpected touching, especially in the regions of their head and neck and back, so she avoids them unless she knows they see it coming and do not ask her to stop.

"Hmm?" is all the response she receives. They do not even open their eyes, which means they must be even more tired than she thought. Her confession is not such a pressing importance that she has to rob them of the sleep they so rarely partake in just to hear it, but… She still feels a little shy about it, and if she doesn't say something now, she's not certain when she'll dig up the nerve to try again.

Aili takes a moment to study their face, trying to scrounge up a bit of courage from somewhere. Not that she really expects them to be mean about it if they don't happen to reciprocate, but it is sort of embarrassing. And she's never made a love confession before; what if she does it wrong? What if she says something offensive, and they decide that they don't want to be married anymore?

She is glad their eyes are closed. Their gaze is always so intense and direct, and they always seem to know when she's attempting to put up a front about something. In some settings that level of attention is welcome, even flattering, but it can be fairly daunting, too.

Uthvir doesn't look particularly intimidating right now, though. Long dark lashes and slightly parted lips; a few stray locks of hair falling across their face. They look…softer. And Aili finds that it makes her want to be soft with them.

“Uthvir,” she tries again, even quieter this time, more than half hoping that they won’t be awake enough to hear her. They do not make an answer this time, and she continues on, just a hair bolder than before. “Vhenan, would it be alright if I… Um. That is… Would you mind…if I was in love with you?”

The last sentence barely makes it past her lips as more than a shallow breath. Her cheeks are burning, and she can hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears, but she did it. She said it aloud. Even if they were not awake to hear her.

Her heart just about leaps into her throat when Uthvir's arms tighten around her waist.

"It was a long journey back," Uthvir hums at her in a low voice, not sounding half as tired as someone who has just woken up should, "I am not opposed to having sex, but you should probably rest a bit longer first."

"Were you just pretending to be asleep?!" Aili hisses in indignation.

"No, I was resting," Uthvir replies in a tone that she suspects is meant to sound innocent, opening their eyes just enough to bat their lashes at her. She scowls at them in turn, but they don't seem too perturbed. "Most people are still abed at this hour," they remind her, "And my lovely wife is always telling me that I need to take better care of myself and sleep in more often."

"Are you trying to tell me that you ignored me because you wanted to stay in bed and cuddle?" Aili asks doubtfully.

"Purely for your benefit," Uthvir insists, squeezing her a bit closer and trailing one hand in the direction of her backside, "I was under the impression that you enjoyed sleeping this way. The last mission was arduous, and I would feel remiss if I did not ensure that you had ample time to regain your strength. I was merely thinking of your comfort."

"I've got plenty of strength, thank you,"Aili assures them, shifting out of their arms and rolling both of them over to straddle their hips.

"So it would seem," Uthvir huffs, sounding amused and maybe a bit sleepier than they intended. They run their hands appreciatively over the bare skin of her thighs none the less, a smirk tugging up one corner of their mouth as the sharp points of their nails make her shiver. "And now that you have managed to overpower me with your impressive might, what do you intend to do with your prize?"

They playfully shift their hips upwards, nearly making her lose her balance for a moment.

"Girls…can be on top?" she blinks down at them owlishly at the thought of it, curious and a bit doubtful all at once. "Well, I mean…people with parts like mine?"

"And how do you suppose two women would have intercourse if that was not an option?" Uthvir snorts.

"I…uh, guess I never really thought about it?" Aili shrugs, feeling awkward, "I just figured everything worked best when the person who was…um. 'Penetrating'. Was more or less in charge of things?"

"I suppose that is the most traditional way of doing it," Uthvir hums, "But really, genitalia do not inhibit much when it comes to positions for sex. Assuming you have the right equipment to assist you, of course."

"Then how come we've only really being doing it the one way all this time?" Aili wonders, making a face.

"Because I generally prefer to have a dominate role in such activities," they answer frankly, "And because you are inexperienced, and I thought it would be better to keep things…simple. At least until we had both grown more accustomed to one another."

"And now?" she asks, a smile beginning to sneak its way across her face.

"I am not opposed to some variety, if that is what you're after," Uthvir smirks in return, "I still have some preferences, but if your intention is straddle my hips and fuck me into the pillows, well… I can think of several less appealing ways to begin one's day."

"I'm…not certain I'd know how to go about that," Aili admits sheepishly.

"I can assist," Uthvir offers breezily, "My first suggestion would be a little less clothing."

"You…you, uh…didn't really respond to what I said earlier," Aili points out, placing her hands lightly on their chest and suddenly becoming very interested in her fingernails, "You know…when you were pretending to be asleep?"

"I thought this was a response?" Uthvir replies, arching a brow and squeezing at her hips again.

"Letting me try being on top during sex is a response to a question about feelings?" Aili asks skeptically.

Uthvir frowns slightly.

"You asked if I minded," they remind her, "I assumed that initiating physical intimacy would sufficiently indicate that I do not. I cannot precisely vouch for the wisdom of it, but I do not find it objectionable."

"Then you don't…feel the same way?" Aili surmises, not quite able to cover the hurt in her tone.

"I did not say that," Uthvir sighs.

"You didn't say anything," she returns dolefully.

"We are married," Uthvir points out, edging into exasperation.

"A political marriage," Aili argues, "That doesn't tell me anything about how you feel!"

"Then perhaps I should simply show you," Uthvir growls.

So saying, they lunge forward, rolling Aili onto her back and pinning her beneath them. They snag her lips in a hungry kiss, stealing her breath along with an exclamation of surprise. They pin her hands with their own, tangling their fingers and pressing them firmly into the sheets. Their hips shift, rubbing teasingly against her sex in a way that makes her nerves sizzle, despite the barriers of clothing. She gasps, and Uthvir makes a low sound of approval in the back of their throat.

"Shall I continue?" They wonder after a few minutes more of devouring kisses, finally giving her a chance to breathe as their lips move on to the promising territory of her neck. Scraping a few light bites down near the junction of her shoulder and nibbling faintly at her ear. She squirms a little and swallows down what sounds suspiciously like a moan. They smirk against her skin.

"We were…having a conversation!" Aili huffs at them, face flushed and trying her best to seem indignant.

"And I was answering your question," Uthvir tells her, drawing back a little and letting go of her wrists.

"So, all I'm good for is sex?" Aili frowns, "It's alright if you don't feel the same way that I do, I just…want to know where I stand, that's all."

"You are my wife," they reply simply.

"And?" she presses.

"And…" they trail off for a moment, clearly a bit uncomfortable, but then they reach back to her and draw one of her hands up to their mouth. They press a single soft kiss to the pulse point of her wrist. "Ma Vhenan."

They have said it before. They both have. But it had always felt a bit like a borrowed coat. Warmth intended for someone else. Like they were playing house, and neither of them had been quite sure how to portray the roles they had been given.

It sounds different this time.

It feels different.

Aili sits up a little, reaching out with her free hand to cup their cheek. Guiding them back down to her.

"Ma Vhenan," she echoes softly in a whispered breath against their lips. Her kiss is more gentle than theirs had been, but it seems to carry the same amount of heat.

Things move slowly this time. Uthvir leans back into her, still holding on to one of her wrists, but allowing her other hand to roam free. To caress their face and even tug a bit at the hair at the base of their neck. They rock their hips into her and she sighs.

"May I have you, Vhenan?" Uthvir checks, their unoccupied hand inching up her thigh towards her underthings.

"I thought you were going to let me be on top?" Aili laughs breathlessly, wriggling a bit to help them remove her underpants. And then letting out an exasperated breath when they simply rip the fabric an tear them away. "You know, I actually liked that pair."

"I will buy you more," Uthvir promises breezily, tugging her sleep shirt up and beginning to mouth a lazy trail down her body. "And the day is young. We have no pressing matters to attend to for several hours yet. More than enough time to experiment with all sorts of positioning."

Aili snorts.

"You're so romantic."

Uthvir hums in vague agreement, pausing their descent just long enough to pull the tip of one of her breasts into their mouth. A brief touch of magic and a light scraping of teeth, and they have her gasping again. Digging her hands into the sheets and closing her thighs around their waist. They shoot her a glance as they carry on, obviously very pleased with themselves.

It seems they've decided to take their time, however. Licking and kissing and occasionally biting as they slowly make their way down between her legs. Trying to see how much they can make her squirm before she finally tells them to get a move on.

She doesn't mind a slower pace, but incessant teasing is another matter.

"Uthvir," Aili groans. She had intended it to sound a bit more chiding than it actually came out. But it's almost worth it for the expression on their face when they look back up at her.

"Was there something you wanted?" they wonder, trying to seem coy. The heat in their gaze gives them away, though. "I am a little busy down here."

"You're not busy enough," she complains, reaching down to lightly flick one of their ears, "If you want me to wait my turn to be in charge, you'd better not take all day with your own."

"I was being 'romantic'," they quip, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I want you to touch me already," she huffs, shifting her hips meaningfully.

"But I am touching you," Uthvir points out with an absolutely devious grin, gently running the sharp tips of their claws over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She shudders delightfully, and they nip at her hip in appreciation.

Aili tips her head back into the sheets and heaves a deep sigh.

"Please."

That seems to be enough to spurn them into action, and after one or two more lingering kisses, they finally reach the point of interest and set about working her over with their mouth. Aili hikes her thighs onto their shoulders and buries one hand in their hair. The other hand ends up fisted in the sheets; something to hold onto with a bit more desperation as Uthvir dutifully runs their tongue over her folds and sucks at her clit.

Her end arrives gratifyingly fast, but Uthvir does not stop. They add their fingers to the mix in order to give their jaw a rest, and then a little swirl of magic as they bite at her hip again. Drawing up a bead of blood and using it to stoke the fire of her pleasure into a roaring blaze. Aili's moans crack into a high-pitched keen of ecstasy as stars explode behind her eyes for a second time.

She is soft and sated when they move back over her. Kissing her deeply with lips that taste faintly of herself. She wraps her limbs about them as best she can, trembling slightly with the aftershocks of pleasure. Uthvir moans quietly into her neck as the finally sink into her, setting a firm steady pace, but still keeping things slow. Controlled.

"If you keep this up," Aili manages to pant out, "I'm not sure I'm going to be capable of trying other positions. My legs already feel like jelly."

"There is no rush," Uthvir hums, taking a moment to suck a dark bruise just beneath her ear, "And we can simply try some other day if you get too tired."

"But I…" she scrapes out between ragged breaths, "I…want to make you feel good, too."

"You already are," Uthvir assures her, turning their head slightly and pressing a bite into her shoulder just as they shift the angle of their hips in such a way that their next thrust hits the place that always seems to make her sing. And she does not disappoint. She's not finished yet, but she's clearly getting close, the walls of her sex tightening around them as she grips them with her legs. Urging them on.

They change the tempo of their movements, hurrying to catch up with her as she tumbles towards another end. She still beats them to it buy a few seconds, but the sounds of her pleasure and the slick heat of her drawing around them soon as them following. A sharp gasp breaking past their lips as their claws dig into the bed around them, likely punching a few holes through the dark crimson sheets.

After taking a moment to blink the spots back from their eyes, Uthvir rolls off of her. But Aili finds that she does not want them to go far. She still feels a bit boneless, but she still succeeds in turning her body to face them and flopping an arm about their waist.

She nuzzles into them, and they obligingly press a kiss to the forehead. She returns the favor with soft sloppy kisses to their cheeks and chin, and even one to the bridge of their nose. Feeling warm and silly in her affection.

"You know, I'm glad you asked me to marry you," Aili beams up at them.

"And I am glad you agreed to it," Uthvir returns with a grin of their own.

#Aili Lavellan #Uthvir #Inquisitor Uthvir AU #the sharp one likes your shine!#fic

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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 6 years

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Delayed Love

Post-TFP. It's Sherlock's birthday, nearly a year since the phone call. Molly's finally ready to open her heart to him again, surprising Sherlock.

I wrote this originally for the Sherlock birthday celebration, but I actually hated this fic at the time for some reason. Now, I love it, and so, I decided to post it.

Freshly baked ginger nuts? Check. Birthday gift? Check. Fireplace lit? Check. Molly Hooper used her key to 221B to set up everything. It was Sherlock’s birthday and he had been away on a case for nearly a week. She hated that it took her this long to get to this point, but they had both needed time after the events that transpired at Sherrinford. Well, her more than him, surprisingly. She hated how it had hurt him that she wasn’t as enthusiastic about a relationship as he was. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him, but she was terrified. Molly never thought there was a chance, and once it was possible, she had no idea what to do with it…

The first few months after the phone call, Sherlock and Molly had both agreed to work on their friendship, rebuilding it from the ground up. They became closer than ever. They were best friends and completely inseparable. They both knew the truth of each other’s hearts, resulting in cheek kisses that lingered a bit longer than usual. Sherlock had decided to go back to rehab to clean himself up for good and he continued to communicate with Eurus through music. He spent time with his family, all of them slowly, but surely healing together properly.

Molly took some time for herself, spending time with Meena and doing new different things. She joined a book club, took a couple dance classes, and picked up extra shifts at Bart’s to save up for a shopping trip with Meena. She felt like adding some new things to her wardrobe as well as look for a couple of new jumpers. She could hardly look at her favourite striped one without feeling sick. Funny how that old striped jumper had good and bad memories attached to it, from her day of solving crimes with Sherlock to that damn heartbreaking phone call.

Despite their very separate lives, weekends were reserved for each other. Late nights filled with take away or the occasional home-cooked meal, along with murder documentaries, classic films and board games. They’d sleep in the same bed. They’d cuddle. But nothing more transpired. It was a comfortable routine. There was a moment one weekend when Sherlock came out of her bathroom, freshly showered and in his pajamas, when he caught her dancing to an old Sinatra song. He had surprised her by taking her hand in his and pulled her into his arms. They danced for a long while, taking comfort in each other’s arms.

When July rolled around, there was an awful heatwave. Molly had been wearing a pair of jean shorts and a bikini top with her hair up in a bun on top of her head. Sherlock had let himself in with the key she gave him.

“Molly, there’s something I need to say and—“ he stopped short, his brain feeling as if it had short-circuited. He was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, an unusual choice for him, but the sight of Molly Hooper not covering her curves up for once sent him into buffering mode.

“Sherlock?” she asked in concern. Following his gaze, she noticed his eyes wander over her in entirety. Feeling self-conscious, she had attempted to cover up her chest with a dish towel.

“Don’t,” he spoke suddenly. “I apologize. What I meant was that you shouldn’t feel insecure.”

Before really thinking, she spoke out, “I’m not compensating for size then?” It came out harsher than she wanted it to. Bad memories tended to do that to you.

“Molly, surely by now you know I was being a jealous git. That’s not an excuse for my behaviour, merely in explanation. I never meant what I said that Christmas. You have lovely breasts,” he blushed at having said that out loud as he spoke quickly.

“You said there was something you needed to say?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “Molly, I—well, would you like to—“

“Solve crimes?”

“Have Dinner?” They spoke in unison, the roles reversed.

“As much as I would like to, I just don’t think I’m ready, Sherlock,” Molly told him softly. “I need more time.” She watched his face fall as she unintentionally broke his heart. “Please, understand that this doesn’t change the way I feel.”

“I understand,” he replied. He then laughed in disbelief. “Who would’ve guessed I’d be ready before you were?” A look of panic crossed his face. “I didn’t muck up our friendship, did I?”

“No,” she assured him. “Never. You’re my best friend, no matter what.” Despite it being sticky and hot, Molly wrapped her arms around him. “I promise I’ll be ready eventually. My heart is and always will be yours, Sherlock.”

Snapping out of her memories, Molly hoped he would be surprised for once. It took her almost a year to be ready for this...whatever it was they had. Her hair was up in a bouncy ponytail, as she had loose curls in her hair, and she wore a pair of jeans with one of her newer jumpers which was a cable knit in bubblegum pink. The key turned in the door, and she braced herself for the moment at hand.

“Molly?” his tone was gentle, curiosity shown plainly in his eyes.

“Happy Birthday, Sherlock,” she smiled shyly. He stepped closer to her, slowly, as if he was afraid of frightening her. Molly closed the gap between them, hugging him to her. Sherlock allowed his hands to touch her—one on the small of her back, and the other in her hair.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he finally spoke.

“I missed you too,” Molly replied. “I’m so sorry it took this long. I was scared and completely lost, and—”

“I understand,” he said softly. Acting on instinct, he pressed a kiss to her temple, unwilling to let go of her. It seemed that Molly was content with staying in his arms, for she showed no signs of wanting to end it. “You made gingernuts.” She could hear his smile in his voice.

“I also got you a gift,” Molly added, stepping out of his embrace to retrieve it. She felt so cold without him, already. “Please try not to deduce it and open the bloody thing.” She laughed nervously, as if she were having second thoughts.

“I promise,” he smiled. Sherlock carefully unwrapped it, revealing a lovely black moleskin journal. There was an engraving in gold on the cover.

For Sherlock.

I hope this will be a reminder that you are loved, and more importantly, worthy of that love.

Love, Molly xxx

“Open it,” she encouraged him, feeling braver. He did as he was told, his lips parting slightly in surprise. Every page was filled with photos and mementos from all the years they knew each other. There were even photos of them with John, Mary, Rosie, Mrs. Hudson and Greg. His family was featured in a couple as well. There were little notes, written in Molly’s hand, about what she loved about him. He found a photo from that awful Christmas party where he practically deduced her to tears. It was a picture of himself with Molly and John. The message she wrote beneath it had him finally forgiving himself for his cruel words.

Who you are is not what you’ve said or done. I realise now that it was jealousy that caused you to react the way you did. I forgive you, my love. It’s okay.

“Molly, this is…” he trailed off, unable to find the words. “Thank you.” The last page was empty, but was obviously laid out in pencil. “What photo goes here?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she smirked.

Six months later, Sherlock was holding Molly close to him in bed. Their hands were laced together, two beautiful rings on Molly’s finger glittering in the moonlight, as well as his own ring. Though Molly was sound asleep, he was wide awake, wondering how he ended up here, with the love of his life. His eyes gazed upon the photo on his nightstand from their wedding last month. It was taken the moment they had kissed, sealing their marriage vows. Both of them were smiling, eyes crinkling on both of their faces.

This was real. He was Molly’s husband, and she was his wife. He moved his free hand to settle over her belly. She wasn’t showing yet, but in eight months, there would be another Holmes in the world…and he couldn’t be happier. There were no more regrets of having waited so long—Molly had convinced him to just let it go and start living in the present. And it wasn’t so hard to do just that when she took his hand in hers. Sherlock Holmes was truly happy for the first time in his adult life. Meeting Molly Hooper, now Holmes, was the best thing that ever happened to him, of that he was sure.

ao3

#Sherlolly #my fanfiction

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booksong · 7 years

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Fic Writers Week 2017 Day 2

The Muses: Writer Prompt

Home Screen: An Add New Contact Companion

In December of 2014, I wrote Add New Contact as a gift for a Haikyuu!! Secret Santa exchange. It was my first time writing Daisuga, my first time writing a full blown AU, and it was born from me coming up with a single line nearly every commenter seems to love: ‘Do it for the hot IT guy’. I never in a million years expected it to become as popular and apparently as beloved as it is now, and I’m deeply touched and honored by the love the fandom has shown it and me. For quite a while now I’ve toyed with the idea of giving it a short sequel just to peek back in, and then the Fic Writers Week Day 2 prompt came along asking for bonus content, and I figured that was enough of a sign.

So here’s Home Screen, a little companion ficlet to Add New Contact after nearly 3 full years. I hope my readers and followers, who have been so kind, patient, and supportive of my writing, enjoy it! It is also up on AO3 if you prefer to read there.

Daichi was sitting in his 8 a.m physiology lecture, passionately regretting this particular academic choice with every fiber of his sleep-deprived being, when he saw it.

He’d reached over his notes and tapped his phone idly to check how many more minutes of Horikawa-sensei’s droning about rhomboid muscles he’d have to endure, but the moment his home screen lit up to display the time (twenty more minutes), he froze. He put his phone back down flat. Very slowly, he leaned back in his seat, tipped his head back, and pressed both his hands over his face.

It was far too early for this kind of thing.

Daichi lowered his hands to find the girl a couple seats down his row giving him a look that hovered between concerned and uncomfortable. He gave her a pained smile that was probably not particularly reassuring, but he had his own problems at the moment. He resolutely turned his phone over so the screen was facedown on the desk, and forced himself, red-faced and tight-jawed, to take notes for twenty more long, long minutes.

When Horikawa-sensei finally dismissed them, Daichi fairly shot out of his seat, tossed his bag over his shoulder, and left the lecture hall walking double-time. He cut across the courtyard, wove around a knot of dead-eyed fourth-years clutching their coffees like lifelines, and made a beeline toward the university bookstore.

Gripped in the hand not holding the strap of his bookbag was Daichi’s smartphone. It was close to brand new, just four months old—screen uncracked, battery near-full, already packed with photos, apps, and his favorite music. It had never turned off on him when he needed it, and it had never been dropped from a second story window.

But it was, in its way, still giving him technical difficulties. Clearly, he needed to see an expert.

He had just taken his foot off the last stair and down onto the smooth polished wood floor of the bookstore’s lowest level when Tsukishima looked up and caught sight of him.

Daichi had been half-hoping someone one else would be working this morning—Yamaguchi, maybe, or even the IT desk’s newest recruit, a nervous little computer science student who was apparently excellent at diagnosing software issues when she could bring herself to look the customers in the eye and form complete sentences.

The look Tsukishima gave him was much more complicated than the simple disdain he tended to visit on the student customers who came in cradling headphones with frayed wires and blue-screened laptops. It wasn’t a particularly happy look…but at least it was perhaps quietly resigned. Daichi would take what he could get.

“Sugawara-senpai,” Tsukishima said blandly, lifting his eyebrows a fraction and maintaining eye contact as Daichi approached, “It’s time for my break.”

“Hmm?” said the other tech on duty, glancing up from where his feathery-haired head was bent intently over the keyboard of a whirring laptop. “Didn’t you just finish it a few minutes ag—oh.”

Sugawara Koushi, Daichi’s boyfriend of three months, two weeks, three days and now one morning class, closed the lid of the laptop in front of him and pushed himself around in his swivel chair. He leaned against the counter of the circular desk, propping his elbows up and resting his chin casually on one hand. It was a pose very reminscient of the first time Daichi had ever seen him, and he was probably doing it on purpose.

“Good morning, sir,” Suga said in his most cheerful customer service voice, “What can we help you with today?”

There was a brief moment when Daichi, fresh off an 8 a.m lecture and a minor heart attack, considered not playing along. But Suga’s eyes were grey-brown and warm and dangerously fond, and that thought didn’t last long.

“Well, you see,” he began, stepping up and placing his new phone on the counter between them. Tsukishima wandered away and sat down heavily in another one of the desk chairs, picking up a set of expensive-looking headphones and apparently ready to tune them out entirely. “I had a lecture this morning…a very early lecture that someone assured me I would be able to handle because I was ‘such a responsible student.’ But the thing is, I missed my alarm, so I was in a bit of a rush to class and wasn’t paying much attention to my phone.”

Suga nodded, his face fixed in the expression that Daichi was convinced could have won him any customer service postion on Earth, perfectly caught between genuine interest and innocent concern. “Sure, okay. Go on,” he urged, as if he didn’t already know where this story was going.

“So when I went to check the time during the lecture, I discovered that someone has apparently figured out my password.” Daichi nudged the phone forward, tipped it toward Suga, and dramatically tapped the home button.

The phone lit up, displaying the home screen. Yesterday, the background had been a stock photo of a mountain meadow, all waving grass and almost clinically distributed wildflowers.

Today, it was not.

Daichi knew exactly when Suga had taken the photo—about two weeks ago they’d had a movie marathon in Daichi’s room where they’d alternated picking titles, resulting in everything from a really emotional indie film to a hilariously bad horror flick to a documentary about the Olympics. It had been probably the most fun Daichi had ever had watching movies with anyone, although over the past couple months he’d discovered that was true of a lot of things done in Suga’s company.

Sometime during the fourth movie Daichi had started to fade. Leaning against Suga had been a thoughtless thing—first just their shoulders and arms touching, and then drowsily listing against him as his muscles relaxed further toward sleep.

And then Suga had simply made it into the most natural thing in the world by draping his arm around Daichi’s shoulders and tucking his head in the dip between Daichi’s shoulder and chest, like it was nothing. His hair smelled nice, like mint or coconut or something not fruity but still sweetish and pleasant.

Sometimes Daichi couldn’t believe this new chapter in his college life was real. Cuddling still felt like a revelation.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, of course, but he’d woken up a few minutes later to walk Suga back to his dorm one block over, still apologizing for being the one to drift off and end their movie session. It hadn’t occurred to him that anything had happened in the interim until he’d found the photo saved in his phone album.

Suga had taken it with the arm not wrapped around Daichi, who was practically nuzzling him, face half-buried in his temple. It was not a flattering photo of him, but Suga’s smile into the camera was sleepy-warm and fond, and Daichi thought he might have been smiling a little himself in his sleep. It was an honest kind of picture, maybe more so than the handful of couple selfies they’d taken so far. So Daichi had kept it.

And maybe pulled it up to gaze at more often that he wanted to admit.

But he’d never expected to have it as his background. That felt so public, so startling, like suddenly finding a poster that was hanging in your bedroom had been taped to your chest. It wasn’t that Daichi regretted or wanted to hide anything about Suga or their relationship, it was just that he hadn’t expected to be confronted with exactly how embarrassingly sappy Suga made him feel at 8 o’clock in the morning in the middle of a hundred of his peers.

“I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid don’t see your problem,” said Suga now, apologetically, his grin finally threatening to overtake his playfully professional demeanor. He flipped the phone so it was facing him and pretended to frown assessingly at the photo. “It’s a great picture. If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, you look absolutely adorable when you’re asleep.”

“Suga.” Somehow Daichi was finding himself smiling too, although now he didn’t know why he’d thought he could genuinely find a way scold Suga about this. It was fine when he rehearsed it in his head, but being face-to-face with his boyfriend tended to make conversations he’d planned out ahead of time evaporate.

In that way, not much had changed since their technologically disastrous but ultimately effective courtship.

“Daichi, your stock wallpaper was boring,” Suga insisted.

“How did you even get into my phone?” Daichi shot back, unable to think of a good response to that—honestly he’d barely given his phone home screen a thought before today. “Did you use some hacking trick you learned here?”

“Your passcode is your birthday, which you told me on our third date. I don’t need to hack your phone.” Suga looked amused. He stretched idly, which always made his employee polo shirt pull taut in various and pleasing ways across his arms, chest, and shoulders. It was an extremely unfair tactic, especially since Suga now knew that Daichi had feelings about the polo and how he looked in it.

Daichi sighed, any residual exasperation deflated, and picked his phone back up to take another look at the photo. Now that he wasn’t surprised and surrounded by classmates, he could appreciate the flush of warmth seeing it there made him feel. He found himself smiling at it again, the way he had in private, at the way they curved into each other, already so easy and comfortable.

“You do like it then,” Suga said, his expression and tone both softening. “I was a little worried I’d overstepped again and you really were upset with me.”

“Considering if you hadn’t ‘overstepped’ the first time we might not be dating right now, I think I can forgive you.” Daichi checked to make sure Tsukishima was deeply engrossed in his music and homework and that there were no other students in the area before he leaned across the counter and kissed Suga briefly. Another thing he still couldn’t quite believe he could do anytime he wanted.

“Does that mean you’ll keep it?” Suga asked when Daichi drew back.

Daichi pretended to think hard, and Suga laughed and took his free hand over the counter, lacing their fingers together and stroking his thumb over Daichi’s wrist until he almost really did forget what he was pretending to ponder.

“I’ll keep it. Until we take a better one, where I’m awake,” he said finally.

“I’m not sure that’s possible when you look that good asleep,” said Suga very seriously, and though his eyes had a teasing twinkle, Daichi got the feeling he wasn’t entirely kidding, and it made his cheeks and ears burn.

“Oh! I almost forgot—for the responsible student who made it through another 8 a.m. lecture.” Suga went back around the counter and picked up a black and white paper cup stamped with the silhouette of a crow perched on the rim of a mug. The lid was stoppered, so when Suga set it in front of Daichi and took the top off, a cloud of wonderful, cocoa-scented steam rose right into his face.

“You’re amazing,” Daichi half-moaned, inhaling deeply.

“I had them put a shot of espresso in it, to get you through the rest of the day.”

Daichi took a careful sip before leaning back over the counter to kiss Suga again, a little longer this time. “I’m so glad I broke my old phone for you,” he murmured, tucking an escaped piece of Suga’s silvery hair back behind his ear. They weren’t at the ‘I love you’ stage yet, but the statement was rapidly becoming something Daichi thought of as a stand-in for it, a fervent expression of just how thrilled he was that their unorthodox journey of pining, flirting, and reckless electronic endangerment had somehow worked out after all.

“What time is your next class again?” Suga asked, bringing him back to the reality of the school day.

“Noon—I have some free time.” Daichi took another slow drink of the caffeine-spiked hot chocolate.

“Keep me company?” asked Suga, as they’d both known he was going to. “Monday mornings are always slow.”

“Tsukishima will give us dirty looks.”

“Let him,” said Suga breezily, shooting his younger coworker a glance. “Yamaguchi-kun starts in an hour, he’ll mellow out then.”

Daichi couldn’t come behind the desk, but Suga let him have one of their comfortable wheeled chairs to pull up to the outside of the counter, so he could sip his drink and talk to Suga as he went back to work on the laptop someone had brought in the previous day.

It would have felt impossible to him, just a few months earlier, that this could be his life. Even as he’d been making a total fool out of himself for the chance to talk to Suga again, there had been a part of his brain insisting that this could only last so long, that he was wasting his time. Now he needed no such excuses to visit the IT help desk, although he had kind of had one this morning.

Daichi reached out and tilted his phone towards himself, half-listening as Suga told him about the latest victim Nishinoya had pointed their way, a devastated freshman with a brand new Christmas gift smartphone like Daichi’s that had gotten left in a pocket and washed. He glanced from Suga’s animated face as he dimpled at the memory of the student tearing up with relief and gratitude when offered the rice treatment, to the Suga in the photo on his home screen with an arm around him and his face fondly gazing into the camera as if to say how lucky he was.

His phone had helped him find Suga, and now it could remind him whenever he looked at it that sometimes, even impossible, foolish things could still go right.

Daichi was definitely keeping his new home screen photo. Maybe even after they took a new one.

#my fic #add new contact #daisuga #haikyuu #ficwritersweek #day 2 #writer prompt #sorry it took me so long everyone!#I hope you have as much fun revisiting them as I did

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drades-lair · 7 years

Text

Lucifer’s mate

Author: Drade666

Rating: M

Warnings: Sexual content

Pairings: Lucifer x OC

Fandom: Supernatural

Heaven was all a buzz ever since the arrival of Morrigan, goddess of darkness even more so when it was known she was courting Lucifer. The goddess strode down the marbled halls in an elegant flowing violet colored dress with sleeves that hung over her shoulders in two sheer strips all accented with a golden corset, leathery wings tucked up behind her back. Morrigan walked up to a pair of large silver double doors giving them a light push so that only a crack was revealed for her to speak through.

“May I enter?” Morrigan asked, her smooth tone radiating off the chamber walls instantly drawing the attention of the archangel inside.

“Of course…you never have to ask my love,” Lucifer’s deep slightly dark tone responded from with in

Morrigan smiled lovingly as she pushed the doors open enough to enter only to close them behind her so they could have some privacy. Gracefully Morrigan strode over to Lucifer’s side where he sat on the edge of his bed with only a pair of loose cotton white pants on, wings relaxed behind him causing the feathery appendages to pool all along the mattress. Morrigan quietly sat down next to Lucifer instantly drawing the archangel’s gaze to lock with her own as a small smile crossed his features when one of her hands came to rest gently on his thigh. They’d recently sealed Amara away resulting in Lucifer taking on a hefty burden of carrying the mark that would forever be the key to her cage while Morrigan carried the power taken from Amara essentially becoming the lock however since returning Lucifer had remained locked in his room causing Morrigan concern for her future mate.

“How are you feeling?” Morrigan asked in a quiet tone, leaning forwards to nuzzle delicately at his cheek

“Some days are better than others,” Lucifer admitted, eyes closing as he leaned into Morrigan’s touch

“You should come outside for a little while…get some sunlight,” Morrigan suggested as she lightly massaged her hand along Lucifer’s thigh.

“Actually…I’m glad you came to see me…I’ve got something to show you,” Lucifer slightly stammered which to anyone else would be unusual but to Morrigan it was a clear sign Lucifer was nervous.

“What is it?” Morrigan curiously wondered

Lucifer didn’t answer simply smiled before pulling away from Morrigan to stand up, moving over to the windows where he flicked a wrist to open the shades on them. Morrigan was made breathless by the sight of the sun reflecting off of Lucifer’s giant gorgeous wings, colors ablaze more than normal as he displayed them in all their glory. Slowly the feathers began to shift through careful muscle movements to shift the colors from red to orange making them shimmer as Lucifer closed his eyes to concentrate the wings moved individually in an elegant dance that made a slight breeze causing Morrigan to smell Lucifer’s scent upon it. Morrigan suddenly realized what Lucifer was doing…he was performing a mating display for her, they’d been wanting to fully bond for a while however with everything that happened regarding Amara they’d not had the opportunity…until now that is. Morrigan patiently watched in awe as her chosen mate performed for her then she stood to join him, her own leathery appendages flaring out in reciprocation to the dance performed. Morrigan focused her energies to flush the leathery portions of her wings with blood making the colors brighter as they flared high above her head instantly making Lucifer lower his own about midway down his body yet he smiled in acceptance to his dominate mate. With the acceptance Morrigan lowered her wings while Lucifer brought his up to meet them, feathers brushing leather as they pressed close to one another, lips coming together for a deep kiss. Slowly they started to move towards the bed again till the backs of Morrigan’s legs lightly tapped it that’s when Lucifer reached around Morrigan’s thighs to gently lift her onto the bed, laying the silver haired beauty carefully onto the mattress as he crawled on beside her. Lucifer trailed kisses all along Morrigan’s jawline down her neck to the tops of her breasts giving the lightest of nips to the soft flesh making the goddess moan out, hands caressing along Lucifer’s bare back up into his short hair. Soon one of Lucifer’s hands slid up the outside of Morrigan’s thigh gingerly pulling the sheer fabric of the violet dress with it till he reached her hip where the archangel’s fingers began to trace teasing circles, mouth latched to hers in hungry kisses. Morrigan’s fingers traced down Lucifer’s torso to his ribs then further to the hem of his pants where she playfully slid them beneath the hem, thumb casually tracing over the raised skin from the mark on his hip.

The hand Lucifer had on Morrigan’s hip slipped to underneath her thigh to gently hoist it up over his hip on the same side, those same fingers dancing up over the same thigh only to dip to the inside then slide up. Morrigan gasped out Lucifer’s name as his fingers slid along the slick folds of her pussy delicately caressing over her clit to send small waves of arousal shooting straight through the goddess. In response Morrigan slightly raised the leg that Lucifer was straddling then slid her hands around to the fleshy mounds of his ass to start massaging them making the archangel’s hips roll forwards, hard length rubbing casually over Morrigan’s raised knee eliciting a light moan from him. Morrigan’s head fell backwards with a deep groan as Lucifer dipped two fingers inside her slick entrance, rubbing them along her insides while his thumb circled Morrigan’s clit. Lucifer used his free hand to undo Morrigan’s corset allowing her pale breasts to come free, pink nipples perked from the slightly cooler temperature of the room until that is Lucifer leaned down to envelope one in his warm moist mouth. Morrigan started panting heavily while her hips rolled into Lucifer’s fingers seeking far more then what he was currently providing leading to a whimpering plea from the goddess that made Lucifer chuckle against her pale flesh. Continuing to place kisses along Morrigan’s chest Lucifer removed his fingers then maneuvered to settle between both of Morrigan’s legs, waving a hand to discard all their clothing that’s when both his hands gently slid along Morrigan’s thighs to hoist them over his hips before planting them on either side of Morrigan’s body for balance.

A moaning cry erupted from both of them when Lucifer pressed forwards into Morrigan’s tight heat taking it slow so as not to hurt his mate. Gingerly Lucifer slid in inch by inch till he was to the hilt, panting heavily with desire to claim his chosen mate but forcing himself to resist till they were both ready. When they were ready Morrigan pulled Lucifer down into a deep desperate kiss and he started thrusting, pulling back almost all the way out before pressing back inside eliciting the most beautiful sounds from the goddess Lucifer has ever heard. Both of them grew close very quickly and the closer they got to the edge the more they felt the connection grow between them, Morrigan’s soul intertwining with Lucifer’s grace was like pouring boiling water into Ice water. The moment both intertwined together both of them reached climax simultaneously, crying out as their wings flared to full length only to leave them in a panting sweat coated mess. Tenderly Lucifer kissed each of Morrigan’s cheeks then nuzzled their noses together with a smile that reached from ear to ear plastered across his face which Morrigan happily returned. Lucifer tended to his mate making sure to clean her up before settling next to her both laying on their sides to face one another, fingers lacing together while Lucifer’s large upper wing moved from the two smaller lower ones allowing Morrigan’s leathery wing to slide between, interlocking them. The rest of the evening was filled with lazy touches, lazier kisses and whispers of adoration in Enochian as the two cuddled in the after math of a successful bonding.

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harrystupelo-blog · 7 years

Text

Birdy

He was the kind of tired that only occurred on planes.

After falling asleep in his seat and being in the same position for over three hours, the crick in his back had returned. He hadn’t eaten real food all day - he’d used the hotel gym that morning and only had time for a quick coffee and banana on the go as he’d a few last minute meetings to finish up with before his flight. After spending three days in New York finalizing his album plans, Harry was a bit emotional, but thoroughly excited. At the moment, though, he needed a good shower, meal, and sleep. It had been a long weekend, but successful, and he was optimistic for his future. It was only two in the afternoon London time and he desperately needed a long sleep. And, judging by the tug in his lower back that made him groan when he lifted up his bag, a massage couldn’t hurt either. A shave, too, he reasoned, rubbing underneath his chin. He’d been breaking out the past few days from stress and a lack of nutritional meals, and being at his age and still getting acne perturbed him quite a bit. He needed a good self-care day. No more running around and making meetings and barely sleeping, not while he was home. He was always thankful to be doing what he loved, but he needed to put himself first sometimes, he knew that. Work was fun, doing music was fun, but it was also...work. He was looking forward to a few weeks of doing laundry, grocery shopping, visiting his family, getting up early and going to the gym and not feeling bad about taking naps and resting up. He really liked having time off to just be.

When the plane finally touched down in London, Harry’s heart soared. He was home, finally home. There was something different about the air in London compared to New York. Harry pulled on his usual grey Randy’s Donuts sweatshirt to protect himself from the eventual steady blast of air conditioning that airports loved no matter the temperature outside, carefully putting his leather bag over his shoulder as well. The sweatshirt provided comfort and also hid him easily enough from any prying eyes that wanted to snap a photograph. Harry wasn’t a cranky guy, but traveling and moving around so much drained the man, especially because he was tired and sore to begin with before the plane had even taken off. He had on a comfy pair of joggers and running sneakers, trying to stay as casual and unnoticed as possible as he was hurrying home.

He huffed out a breath as he slid into the buttery seat of the town car that was there to bring him home, rain beginning to fall. It wasn’t London without some rain. It was a good day to lay in bed to watch movies, he thought to himself. A good stew day, too. A romantic comedy, his mother’s stew with crusty bread, and his big cozy bed sounded the most inviting. Harry looked away from the rainy, dreary day outside to fumble a text to his sister that he had arrived, placing a hand on his lower back and grimacing. He’d have to ring his physical therapist today, too, and his mother. He knew Anne was anxious to see him since he was away.

It was all worth it, however, the achy back and rain and hunger and the headache blooming behind his eyes, when he stepped through the door of his home. A twenty seven pound bundle of curls and dimples that looked just like him launched herself into his chest as soon as the door opened. His arms were ready to catch her as he stood, twirling the girl around and tucking his face into her shoulder. There was no better smell than his daughter after a bath, absolutely nothing in the world compared. Especially after he hadn’t seen said daughter in three days.

Being a single father while also juggling fame was difficult, but Harry never complained. He absolutely loved making music and acting, but he loved being a father more. Rose was his entire world, and he would never let work interfere with her, ever. He was lucky enough to have his sister and mother and select friends that adored his daughter (almost) as much as he did who could look after her when he was away. It was never easy, and while this was the longest he’d been away from her for her entire life, and he worried constantly, he was grateful that he was able to live both lives and keep them separated. Although Rose was only three, she seemed to begin to understand that her dad was some sort of Important Person, and that sometimes she had to share him with others, which was a difficult concept for her to wrap her mind around - Harry was her’s. He tucked her in at night and helped her do her hair in the morning, made her lunch and told her he loved her - he didn’t do that with anyone else. Harry knew the importance of bonding with your child as a single parent, and he refused to be one of those celebrities who simply sent their children off with the nanny while he kept his career afloat. He wanted to do this, and do it right. In this day and age, now that FaceTime and text updates from Gemma reading Rose is asleep, wanted me to tell you she loves you, and All is well, just came back from the shops. Baby girl’s got a new set of markers; time to destroy all the white walls in your house were helpful (except when Gemma was being sarcastic with messing up his stuff), but it was nothing like actually being there, home, where he should be. It was hard being away from her, harder every day that he was missing making her breakfast and running his fingers through her hair when she couldn’t sleep. He was missing kissing her scrapes on her knees if she fell and the smell of her soft skin after a bath. Harry was always adamant on never mixing up work life and personal life, and his daughter’s needs always came first. She was the very most important person to him, and he’d never put anything - or anyone - before her.

So, being able to hold her now, after three whole days, was heaven. Ignoring his back protesting against him, he stood to his full height, swaying her a little. Rose had his curls, dimples, and cheeky grin. She was a little chubby around the middle - “Just like her Daddy,” his sister Gemma liked to say, to which Harry groaned - and she had little legs and hands that perfectly wrapped around Harry when he held her or kissed her goodnight or told her he loved her. (And yes, Harry refused to admit he gained Dad Weight, even though it was only a few pounds. He refused.)

“Hi, Birdy,” he whispered, tucking his head into Rose’s shoulder. Birdy was a name his own mother had called him when he was young, and it had simply started rolling off his tongue as his daughter grew. It was a simple, peaceful name for his girl. Harry could feel her heart beating through their clothing, her tiny hands gripping his sweatshirt. “I missed you so much.”

Although there was absolutely no reason for her not to be, coming home to his baby safe and happy and in one piece was enough for him. He constantly worried about her even when they were in the same room, cuddling on the sofa with her small body curled into his chest as they watched telly on a normal Wednesday evening. She never had any health problems thankfully, and she was the happiest, most loved girl in the world. Harry knew Gemma would never let anything happen to his girl, but being a father changed him. He wasn’t just looking out for himself anymore.

“Hi, Daddy,” she said. Harry allowed Rose put her small hands on either side of his face, nuzzling their noses together as she pressed kisses to his cheekbones and forehead, giggling at the familiar scruff on Harry’s cheeks against her baby-soft skin.

“You gotta shave, Daddy,” she giggled, tiny fingers holding Harry’s cheeks. Gemma, who was reading a magazine quietly on the sofa, removed herself from the room for a few moments. It was an intimate, private moment between father and daughter, and she didn’t want to get in the way, especially since the two hadn’t interacted person-to-person in days.

“Do I?” Harry raised his eyebrows, mouth opening in surprise, jostling her slightly, one strong arm around her back and the other secure around her bum so that she stayed put in his arms. “You don’t like your Daddy with a beard?”

“Uh-uh,” Rose shook her head. Harry placed his bag on the floor in the corner of the room, holding her more firmly in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, setting his girl down on her feet. Gemma joined the two of them, leaning in to give her brother a hug. Harry kissed her cheek, smoothing his hand carefully over Rose’s head as she clung to her father’s leg. Usually, after Harry was away, she tended to hover close by to him for a few hours as if he was going to disappear again, and Harry would never tell her to stop.

“What d’you say to Gem, little lady? Was she good to you? Were you a good girl for her?”

“Of course she was,” Gemma grinned. She got on her knees, reaching to hug Rose. The little girl reluctantly let go of her dad, squeezing her arms around Gemma’s neck before turning back to Harry, as if she was afraid he would disappear again. Rose couldn’t quite understand the feeling of safety she felt constantly with the people Harry surrounded her with, but it was a different kind of safety when her dad was home, his eyes and ears and arms all for his girl. She was happiest when she was with her father. (She didn’t know this, but he felt exactly the same way.)

“Thank you, Gems, love you,” Rose said, giggling when Gemma peppered kisses to her tiny cheeks, smacking the last one on her tiny lips.

“Love you, sweet girl. Glad we got to have some girls’ time without stinky old Dad.” Gemma stood up, shaking out her long, ombre hair. She scrunched her nose at Harry, squeezing his hand before he could reprimand her.

“Thanks again, Gem,” Harry said, squeezing her fingers in response. The two of them watched her go down the pathway and drive off, Rose with her thumb half in her mouth, her other hand loosely wrapped around Harry’s wrist as she stared absentmindedly at the falling raindrops on the little stained glass window pane above the door. Harry looked down after he closed the door, wincing slightly - Gemma and his mother had both noticed Rose sucking on her thumb when Harry was away, assuming it was how she comforted herself in the absence of her father. Hopefully, since he was home for a few months, the habit would go away.

Harry leaned down to scoop up his daughter again, ignoring the ache of his back that was screaming at him. She immediately latched onto him, her head happily resting on his shoulder, tiny hands pat pat patting into his upper back as he walked into the kitchen. It had started to really rain now, loud heavy droplets hitting the big windows of the kitchen, the sky clouding over to a deep grey. Gemma had cracked a few windows open, so the fresh smell of summer rain filled his home. Harry loved having big windows and fresh air filtering in and out, even if said air was damp most of the time. There was nothing more peaceful to him than being home during a rainstorm, especially with his daughter. Harry set her down carefully on the countertop, kissing her nose and then turning to the fridge, and cursing very silently to himself - it was nearly empty. He’d forgotten to ask Gemma to pick up milk and some essentials before he returned home. She usually did it without asking, and he always paid her back for it. Even though she had told him she was the one eating his food while he was away, so it was no matter. Harry winced. The last thing he wanted to do right now was go out in the rain to food shop, even if his back wasn’t aching or he wasn’t bloody exhausted. Harry turned to look at his daughter, putting his hands on his hips. He snorted when Rose did the same, tilting her head at him with a goofy grin as she placed her own tiny hands on tiny hips. She gasped in excitement, then, as if she realized that Harry was officially home and ready to spend time with her - and then her excited words started spurting out.

“Wanna see my new paints, Daddy? Gem let me do finger painting yesterday; and we took a walk to the stream, Daddy, and she let me go in with my new wellies, only a little bit, can we go there now?”

“How about,” Harry said, pressing kisses to her forehead between every pause. “Daddy orders. Fish and chips. And you put on your pajamas. And we can watch a film and you tell me all I missed while I was away? That sound good?”

He had laundry to do, calls to make and a journal to look over. His inbox was probably full of emails and notes from the weekend that he needed to think about, and he should probably consider calling his physical therapist sooner than later.

But, he had a little girl with expectant eyes that looked too much like his own staring up at him, and tiny hands that were encompassed in his own. While she scampered up the stairs to put on her pajamas and spend some quality time with her father, he made quick work of dumping most of his clothes into the laundry machine, plugging in his laptop and phone on the kitchen counter. He dialed the number of the takeaway shop, humming quietly with a tired yawn. After ordering, he waited to hear the light padding of bare feet hurrying down the stairs. Harry smiled softly to himself, thumbing out a text to his mother before leaving his phone on silent on the kitchen counter, leaving all distractions behind.

“I’m ready, Dad! Ready!” a tiny voice exclaimed. Harry gasped out a laugh at what stood before him. Rose had on his old Rolling Stones t-shirt that he'd left at home for her, the fabric barely hitting below her knees. She had one of her old teddies clutched in one arm, her braid loosened by her haste to get undressed and back down to her father.

“Hey, c’mere,” Harry said softly, getting on his knees. He opened up his arms for Rose to cuddle into him, the little girl curling into his chest as Harry took her hair down, running his fingers through her loose curls. The house was quiet and calm, and his daughter smelled like clean soap and she was baby soft skin and gentle kisses and hugs and I love you's and home. She was home, safe, healthy, and happy, and so was he. His e-mails and voicemail box could wait until tomorrow, because tonight was about spending time with his daughter, his best friend and entire world.

#masterlist #my writing #harry blurb #harry writing #harry drabble #gender neutral

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