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romanoffsbish · 10 months

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A Vintage Taste

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Warnings: Red Room Trauma.

Word Count: 5,048

Natasha was a collector, a curator of the finest things the world had to offer. She obtained rare artifacts meant for museums, paintings made by the historical elites, and a very long list of other various means of artistic expression.

If she wanted it, it became hers, even if that meant breaking laws from time to time to secure it. Money is power, so she ruled.

——

One of the things she collected, what actually inspired her to start her life of curating, was a porcelain doll with the prettiest of features. It was given to her by her neighbor friend, Sara, as a way to say goodbye before she moved.

Natasha loved that doll more than life itself, which wasn't hard to believe with the life she'd been dealt. It broke her heart when she woke up in the army vehicle to find it was gone.

Dreykov grinned devilishly at the little girl, he held the delicate antique in his hands, she sobbed openly knowing of her cruel, twisted fate. Tears cascaded down pale cheeks as the man ripped the doll in two, tearing away her far off dream of a full life, taking away her will to fight for that dream; but it didn't die.

It was a long time before she obtained that freedom, and it's been an even longer time since she escaped to chase a new one.

A dream that lead her right to you.

She remembers the first time she walked down the streets of New York with Clint, he'd taken a strong liking to her. A paternalistic need to show her love, and to show her how life could be; the inspiration for his willingness to walk down the streets of a bustling Manhattan.

He was blabbering on about all he'd planned for the day, just to find he'd lost her attention to a little hole in the wall thrift shop. He had jogged back to her, ready to scold her for not stopping him, but he paused at her expression.

Natasha was transfixed on a doll, he'd seen her reflection surrounding it, slightly muffling its features, but he saw the redheads clearly. There was a spark of vulnerability in her eyes that he knew ran deep, it was the first time he'd ever seen her walls fall like this. It was sweet.

Clint shook his shoulders of his trepidation for the sake of the redhead. Superstition had him in a chokehold but he didn't have it in his heart to break hers so he bought the 'creepy' hunk of porcelain for her anyways. Then he silently vowed to take a bath in salt to placate karma.

Years later he told Nat about that feeling, and his noble act of bravery. She then watched in amusement as the Avenger jumped at the sight of five dolls clustered in a corner. Laughing in his face mockingly as she felt truly offended.

His words of misfortune proved untrue, only a year after she found that doll did she find you.

Her precious Y/N, you were the picture of perfection in her eyes that only sparkled for you. Your gorgeous features showed of an equally as tormented upbringing, but your heart radiated with a joy that was unfazed.

You kept your heart, and made her reminisce.

You were undeniably warm, she was shivering. So she gravitated to you without fear, her eyes hopeful, and you took her in without question.

Now Natasha sits in her reading cove, watching the rain pelt against the slanted windows of the roof. Nervously she tapped her short, red nails against the cracked spine of her favorite book as she anxiously awaited for you to return.

You'd only had to drop the kids off with Yelena, which she knows is a half hour trip with your fifteen minutes of silly gossiping at the door.

"Kate Bishop" this and "Natalia" that, she knew the drill, and she wholeheartedly adored it.

But it'd been over an hour now, and you weren't answering any of her texts or calls. Never did she let her defenses fall, retirement for her didn't come with the dream of peace. It came with risks, and to lose her edge over the enemies could be catastrophic for many.

Natasha breathed a sigh of relief, if not for the sudden, and adored sound of gravel crunching beneath tires she'd have called for backup.

"Where were you?" Natasha shrieked as she graciously made her way down the slippery cobblestone steps with an umbrella meant to shield you from the storm. You waited in the drivers seat, a knowing glint in your eyes as she reached for your hand to safely guide you out.

She'd always been so cautious with you, her fragile doll from the very first day you met.

Natasha was enamored by you, and you were just as curious about her. The attraction was instant, and the relationship moved fast.

You shook your head with a silly smile as you looked down to her bare feet, eyes curious as they moved up over her delectable, creamy thighs exposed to the world, and finally over the swell of her breasts to thin camisole straps.

Natasha smirked, then winked. "I'm Russian."

You cackled, head thrown back, the jolt was more than enough to make Natasha's hand move to your back to stabilize you. Effectively pulling you closer, lips hovering over yours as she whispered: "Where were you doll?"

You swallowed thickly, arms wrapping around her neck so you could kiss her swiftly. A failed means of distraction, her question only being hotly repeated into your mouth. You'd wanted to surprise her, but the chance was fading.

"I had to get Lena some groceries," you start, "She agreed to have the kids all week if I only got her enough food to satiate Milo's appetite."

"And her own I'm sure," Natasha teased.

You giggled, "Yeah, when I found fifteen boxes of mac and cheese on her list I realized that."

Natasha rolled her eyes but kept her smile fond. Her little sister was so childish it was adorable, but say that word to the blonde and suddenly it becomes an apparent falsehood.

"Then I had to get another epi-pen for the car for Eli as I gave the actual one to Yelena."

Natasha hummed, her agreement clear in your thoughtful decision. "You're so precious."

Your nosed scrunched and Natasha swooned. You'd always get even more adorable when she spoke so sweetly to you, cherishing you into a state of awkward appreciation. Love abounding in a way that almost felt suffocating, but you managed to settle into the warmth every time.

Her love was a safety net you hardly ever left.

Your lover saw the look in your eyes had hazed over some, she knew you had clear intentions for how tonight's going to go without your four year old son, and two year old daughter here.

"I also got us a few groceries as well," you say suddenly, popping the lust cloud swarming around your heads. Natasha nodded, and then wasted no time passing over the umbrella, and ushering you into the house, saying that she'd grab the groceries from the back seat for you.

You hesitated, but relented. She pecked your lips softly. "Hold onto the railing sweetheart."

"I will mommy," you appeased, purposeful in your chosen phrase as you ascended into the cottage. Lingerie you managed to hide burning the skin beneath your thick grey overcoat.

Natasha was hot on your heels, she tossed your bags of food onto the hardwood table without much consideration to if you'd gotten eggs. Her greedy hands pushed you into the marble counter, but before she could fully pounce your hands pressed to her chest. "You're dripping on my floors Natalia, take a shower, and relax."

You were playin dumb now, Natasha loved it, feigning shock at her movements as if you didn't egg her on with the use of your words.

Natasha acquiesced, leaving you to reheat the borscht you'd prepared the night before, knowing that it's best served reheated. Giving it ample time to steep in a fridge overnight.

While she took an expectantly fast shower you unloaded your groceries, and began to make a half dozen chocolate covered strawberries for a dessert, you then slipped them into the freezer.

You grabbed wine glasses, preparing your wife a glass of white, before topping off your own.

Then you pulled the bread from the oven, the outside was crunchy, and the rest soft. You plated two each on your finest China bowls, smeared them with butter, then lifted them moments later to layer the borscht beneath.

Natasha made it down just in time to see your bare ass before you were taking your seat. She looked you over with disdain for your apron.

You looked her over with your breath caught in your throat. It appears you were no longer the only one teasing, she'd joined, and played well.

The redhead had settled on slipping into a grey, ribbed tank that fit tightly to her body. Her bulky muscles were flexed as she curved her arms beneath her breasts, shifting your attention to them without a stutter in gaze.

Natasha smirked as she took her seat across from you. "Dinner looks great doll, thank you for always taking such good care of me."

"Mhm." You smiled. "I love taking care of you."

Natasha dug into her food, dipping the bread into the stew, making sure to get some of the dolloped sour cream to ensure a well rounded bite. The redhead moaned genuinely as the flavors melded over her tongue harmoniously.

You chuckled, "Do you like it Natty?"

"It's amazing sweetheart, so, so delicious."

"Thank you mommy," you softly giggled, more to yourself as the redhead took a sip of wine.

It wasn't long before she yearned for you in a way that was undeniable. Yearning for you was a constant for her, but this time was different. Natasha could feel the thrum of her heart in her ears, she shook her head and cleared her throat as she felt the sensation trickling down. Landing in her cunt where she felt a pulse.

She eyed the wine in her hand suspiciously now, taking note of the granules you'd failed to dissolve. It was a purposeful choice she's sure.

Natasha saw you grinning over your own glass, you let the tainted beverage slosh against the sides, swirling the cup with confidence as you focused back in on your nearly empty bowl.

Natasha slurped her last bit down, a low groan following the lewd noise and you felt your body tense. The stimulant was working rapidly.

You collected the empty bowls, walking away with a tantalizing sway of your hips. Natasha adjusted her posture, legs manspreading as she focused on your every move. The hem of her boxers digging into her skin as her high tech strap began to harden, bulging the fabric out.

Natasha cursed the forced adrenaline running through her veins. She intended to take her time with you, but now she's not so sure she won't bend you over the counter right now.

You pulled something from the freezer, and returned with a bright smile as you plated the strawberries in front of her. They shined with the help of the condensation on the chocolate. Natasha smiled at the plate, it was sweet, and above all else appreciative—a silent thank you.

You rewarded her manners with a gasp, "Oh my Natty, I'm still wearing my apron..." She shook her head as you turned your back to her, she understood the request, but before untying it she made sure to lavish your backside with open mouth kisses and occasional love bites.

When you turned back around you looked momentarily dazed, then you were back to smiling with a glint of mischief as you lifted the apron over your head and finally let it fall.

Natasha's eyes widened as you became fully exposed to her. There were straps adorning your skin, but fortunately nothing inherently crucial was shielded from her wandering gaze.

In the sweetest way possible you'd dressed up for her. Bridging the line between heartfelt and downright depraved. With your breasts and glistening cunt free of imprisoning fabric she was ready to pounce. She originally thought being able to see your bare backside minus the thong was a real treat. This was her nirvana.

But then she stuttered as she appreciated the way black strand's holding the lingerie over your shoulders and backside change into red when she looks to your abdomen. The emblem of her retired superhero persona covers your skin, with white lace to replicate an intricate web interlaced between the hourglass lines.

Natasha beckoned you over with a slow curl of her finger, you breathed in deep before obliging her as you tried to come down after imagining her doing that inside you instead.

You straddled her lap, legs stretched to their limits as she didn't close hers even an inch. Natasha lifted a strawberry to your lips, you obediently parted them so she could push the strawberry passed them. Nat softly tutted when you naturally tried to bite into the delicacy, "Patience doll, let mommy soften it some..."

Natasha played with you, pushing it passed your lips, only to pull it out before you could manage to taste the chocolate that was melting. Fucking your mouth with a coated strawberry wasn't exactly on her sex bucket list, but when inspiration strikes, she's one to run with it.

"Take a bite baby," she finally whispered, and you bit into the strawberry, the desired crunch of the chocolate ruined by your warm lips, but you didn't mind much when the richness of the melted chocolate bloomed more noticeably.

Natasha used her thumb to catch the juice that ran down your chin, she slid the digit into her mouth with a content hum. Then she wanted more and reached out for you, hand behind your neck guiding you to lean your body into hers so she could capture your lips with hers.

Her tongue slowly slid over yours, hot and heavy breaths being exchanged as she sought to taste the dessert that laid upon your tongue. Natasha moaned as the sweet, tart flavors were able to mix so flawlessly with your own taste.

There was just always something so delicious about you, the redhead could spend hours alone just kissing you until you were out of it.

Normally she'd kiss you until your lips were swollen, and tears were flowing down your cheeks at the desperation you felt for more.

But this isn't one of those times since every single touch from you burned her, with that pleasurable ache residing in her lower belly only growing more prominent as she kissed you sloppily, she knew it was a wrap on taking it slow. It hurt, but she knew that her usual love for devouring your lips would have to be set aside, the kissing becoming shorter.

Especially when you caused Natasha to lose sight of the bigger picture, your pleasure. She groaned huskily into your mouth as your hips instinctually ground down into hers, smearing your wetness all over her cotton boxers.

The moment her strap hardened fully against her boxers you groaned, then began running your slit over it without wavering in the power of your thrusts. This idea that you'd turned her on so much that she already activated the nerve trackers in the strap to make it work made you particularly feral. The overwhelming smell of you as you smeared your arousal all over her boxers left her in the same desperate state.

"Slow down doll," she purred against your neck, her buff arms wrapped around you to keep you from still rutting into her aimlessly. "Mommy needs to eat you out sweetheart, it feels like I might die if I can't taste you soon."

Natasha didn't give you much time to respond, she simply lifted you up onto the dining room table and buried her face between your legs with a sigh of unbridled contentment. Taking what was hers, and holding no remorse. Not that she needed to with the way you were singing her praises. A cocky smirk raising her wetted cheeks as her tongue flicked over your clit and she heard as you forgot how to breathe.

"Fuck, mommy, I'm so close," you cried out as she swirled her tongue within your greatest depths. Natasha drove her tongue even deeper and your back arched off the table, your thighs trembled and you finally drenched her cheeks.

Natasha's eyes found yours within an instant, she slowly lifted her head to reveal an almost predatory smile, her lower face glistened under the soft yellow lights of your dining room, and you found yourself struck by her raw beauty.

No one could ever compare, not to you at least, she was a step above the rest in your eyes.

"What's on your mind doll?" Natasha was now hovering above you with a playful smirk, she could see you lost in something deeper than the haze, it nearly worried her until you smiled. It was goofy, and kind, a reminder of just why she loved you so deeply. "You're so beautiful."

Her heart burst with adoration, every day she found herself falling more in love with you, something she once thought to be impossible.

She never expected her life to be like this. From the mornings spent wrapped up in each other, the soft kisses you two would exchange just before the giggling commenced as the toddler’s came bounding into your bed for snuggles. To the nights like these, where your bare bodies entangled with one another’s more intimately. This life with you was like a dream come true.

Natasha leant down to kiss you, it was softer than the moment initially called for, but it was what you, her sweetest girl, truly deserved. “Thank you baby,” she whispered, smiling against your lips. “But I’m nowhere near as beautiful as the sounds you’re going to make.”

The glint in her eyes read of danger, her lips quirked up as realization washed over you just in time for her finger's to slip inside. "Fuck." Your fingers dug into the muscles around her shoulder blades as the pleasure overtook you, your head hitting the table as your back arched.

Natasha roughly nipped at the stretched skin of your throat as she steadily thrusted into your cunt, your slick was so abundant that it was pooling and leaving behind a polish for the table that was already being rubbed in by your backside that jiggled with every harsh thrust.

Once you came around her fingers with a throat scratching, incoherent scream Natasha pulled out of you against your bodies natural pull to keep her locked in place. You whined, but she pressed her lips to yours, and caught your moan as her strap easily slid inside you.

"I'm going to fuck you to sleep doll," Natasha spoke in a whisper, her teasing breath rushing over the heated skin of your neck enacting a scattering of goosebumps to rise on your body.

You felt impossibly warm, body buzzing with a need, the warmth only intensified as she licked from your throat to your earlobe, seductively whispering: "Then I'm going to continue to fuck you until you cum back to life."

To emphasize the truth in her words she rocked her hips back, then sharply thrusted back inside your dripping heat where she belonged. The anatomically ambiguous tip of her strap hit your cervix, inspiring a delicious mix of pain and pleasure to course throughout your body. You rewarded her with a moan.

Your continued flurry of sounds as she railed you were more symphonic than any of Beethoven's compositions. In moments like these, thick with infatuation and driven almost exclusively by lust, Natasha had found herself concocting devious plans. Like the one where she plans to one day open a museum for you.

One where the walls shook as your glorious sounds reverberated off of them, a continuous loop of your labored breath intermixed with whorish moans and squelching noises from her fucking your pussy so well it was singing.

There'd be photos scattered on the walls, in many forms such as: polaroids, like the one of you with your eyes crossed as she fucked her strap down your throat, or the ones of your tits. The visual possibilities would be endless.

There would also be film strips from sex tapes. They'd be raunchy stills, in sepia, scattered on a wall that surrounds a boxed off area with a single oak door meant for walking through.

Natasha would guide you in with a corrupted hand on your lower back. There'd be an old timey projector, and you'd watch with your mouth agape as videos you'd never seen before broadcast just how filthy you two can get.

Then she'd recreate those scenes with you as they played in real time, never letting your eyes stray away from the screen. Just so she could see your face when it turns into a livestream of the both of you. She imagined you'd clench around her fingers as you saw the screen, she can picture the look of surprise that would soon fade to embarrassment before bliss.

The idea arouses her to no end, especially because she knows you'd melt at the gesture. Natasha was nothing short of romantic, she made it her mission to never stop wooing you.

This would be a personal project of course, never opened to the public because Natasha doesn't much believe in the sharing is caring mantra. No, she believes instead that since she fought through thick and thin just to have you that you would be hers alone. It was only fair. You felt the same about her, whenever anyone ever came close to her in your younger years you'd send them home shitting themselves.

Possession in relationships could be rather daunting, most times it became overbearing. But with each other, it's a peaceful process, it's the only way the two of you know how to exist. More to the point, was that this was wanted.

Natasha stayed true to her promise, she always did. It was after you'd cum for her three times, with this brutal pace being set, and she'd had you teetering on another edge of unforgiving bliss that it began to become a reality.

Her first, and likely only orgasm was intense as she felt herself clench around her end. Sharp teeth sinking into the skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder as it tore through her. Thus activating the finale you’d anticipated.

On your end you felt as the strap externally warmed, and twitched as if this was a real sequence. Then her warm, genuine semen filled the stretched space between the walls of your quivering cunt, in toe curling abundance, it even came sloshing out onto your thighs.

A silent scream echoed through the vibrations against her lips on your neck, no sound left you, but she knew. The way your body trembled beneath hers was fascinating, but it was when you completely slumped against the table that she felt her movements become feral.

“Fuck, I love it when you do this,” she grunted, her hips continued to fuck the strap into you, her arms holding up your limp legs, causing her to reach your furthest depths, and ensure her cum made it deep into your barren womb.

Natasha admired your raw beauty, your face calm, but occasionally twitching from pleasure. All too suddenly she added that extra bit of pressure to your neglected clit, and in seconds your upper body rose off the table with a shriek as you were overcome by pleasure, what’d put you to sleep had also been like an alarm clock.

“Mommy, please, no more,” you cried, as your hands tried to push her away, but it was never of any use when you did that. You knew what to say to make her stop, but you never did, because you both knew you loved this feeling.

All you ever did while weakly protesting her lust was create red lines on her chiseled biceps that she’d look to fondly the following morning as the hot water from your shared shower makes it sting. “It’s okay, let mommy make sure her seed is gonna stick doll, just a couple more seconds and then it’ll be over, I promise.”

A couple of seconds turned into a minute though, as she lazily kept up the rocking of her hips. The sloshing sound of your cunt slowly became drowned out by your whines from the overstimulation. Natasha knew you couldn’t handle another intense round, so she stilled, not wanting to work herself back up either.

The drugs had officially worn off, her urge to devour you was now back to her average, which was still high, but there’s always tomorrow. For now you needed rest. “See doll,” she purred, tongue tracing over the bruising mark she’d just left behind on your neck. “We’re all done.”

Natasha pulled out of you, slipping the plug she’d already had with her inside of you, her lips peppered your face with kisses as she too worked to calm you down. Natasha hated to see you in pain, but she wanted to ensure the third and final addition to her family took.

This was it, the last of her scientifically engineered seed, what gave her the chance at motherhood that was once torn from her, and she didn’t want to have to ask Tony, the smug man, or Bruce, the jealous ass to make more. Fortunately, with her super soldier serum in the mix the cum was potent, it’s never failed.

When you whined again, she shushed you, “It’ll be okay love, we just have to be secure.” You nodded tiredly, eyes fluttering open again as your body had regulated some. You smiled up at the redhead in a dopy, lovesick fashion. “You're always so good to me," you sighed dreamily as you met her lips for a perfect kiss.

Natasha smiled genuinely. "You're my most prized possession, you deserve cherishing."

"You're mine too," you sheepishly admitted, and the woman's eyes shone with tears that you quickly kissed as they slipped down her cheek. "My entire life is you and the kids."

At the mention of your kids, your unending love personified, Natasha grinned widely. Her hands caressed the skin of your stomach. "I hope it works." She kissed your tummy then she smiled up at you shyly. "For good luck."

"Yeah?" She shrugged then swiftly moved back up to kiss your lips with uncontainable passion. "Mhm." Her arms wrapped around your body, and she stood up with you with far too much ease. "Now let's go get you cleaned up love."

Her strength was truly mesmerizing, even after all this time with her you were still amazed that she could carry you. Especially when she still stayed so gentle after the rough sex. Natasha could break you with ease, fortunately, she never would. You were like a fragile doll, but you’re one that would never be made to break.

The redhead cleaned you both up as quickly as she could before slipping off to make a snack for the two of you to share. She settled on some carrots with ranch, and a PB & J to split, she even threw on a few chips for your happiness. After scarfing down the food, she made sure you had an entire bottle of water before she settled you onto the mattress with care.

Natasha laid behind you on her side, her arm wrapped around your waist protectively. She had you pulled into her, back pressed to her front without much space between your bodies. Every time, without fail, after a passionate night together you'd find yourself like this. The both of you cherished these sweet moments.

"I love you," Natasha whispered as she kissed your bare shoulder, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled over your bodies.

You momentarily turned to face her, kissing her lips tenderly. "I love you too Natty."

The redhead kept you there a moment longer, lips lingering over the marks already forming on your throat until she returned to your lips.

"Get some sleep doll," she softly commanded, then she retook her rightful place behind you.

The both of you were physically exhausted, but your minds were racing with the excitement of what just took place. Hope for life reignited in ways that left you restless and wide awake.

So you watched the rain run down the window, multiple lines in a race of sorts it seemed, you'd silently placed bets on the winner. "I think the one on the right is gonna win," you yawned, Natasha chuckled, "The what is gonna what?"

"It's too late," you yawned again, "I was wrong because they met in the middle and merged."

Natasha snorted, "Go to sleep now doll, you're clearly losing it." She pulled you in closer as you grumbled a hey in protest. Then you rolled over so you could lay with your face in her neck and place a few gentle kisses to her collarbone.

"Goodnight Natty." Natasha stayed up for another hour after you, simply relishing in the way your body felt so close to hers. How perfect you were under the soft casting from the moon, the subtle rise and fall of your chest a reminder that you're alive, and this love was indeed real.

Her tired eyes flitted around the room until she found the tattered doll she once adored. The one she repaired in secrecy, and that looked just like you, her wildest dream come true.

Reminiscent eyes fell back to you with ease. “Moya krasivaya kukla.” She’d smiled softly before pecking your parted lips. Your nose scrunched adorably, but fortunately you had remained fast asleep in her arms, the corner of her eyes crinkled in response. “I love you so.”

(My beautiful doll)

Natasha was once a collector, but it seemed that after she found you the thrill was gone. Expectedly so, there was no longer a need for it; she'd curated her standalone masterpiece.

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fallow-hollow · 8 days

Text

five stages of grief

…ft! kabru x gn! oblivious! reader

…tags! pining, confession, kabru is a bit of a freak about this, oblivious reader, reader is an adventurer

…word count! 2671

…notes! spreading my kabruganda to the masses!!! kabru is my me so I very much enjoy writing him

denial

At first, Kabru was so convinced that there was something behind your happy-go-lucky exterior.

You were so skilled in the dungeon, able to make it down to floors that even he hadn’t traversed yet. So you must have a good grasp on tactics, not only in battle, but also when socializing! Yes, maybe you read people expertly when they’d respond in kind to your friendly behavior…..

During the stage where you’re acquainted but don’t know much about each other personally, he spends so long crafting theories about what’s going on inside your head.

His party members get sick of hearing about it halfway through the second week.

Once you meet again in person, he’s ecstatic to have an opportunity to take a closer look at your inner workings. His words and mannerisms are calm and purposeful, but there is a certain spark in his eyes, almost trying to illuminate your thoughts and feelings with its shine.

Over the course of the conversation, Kabru starts getting a bit confused at his lack of new findings about you. It takes you saying something particularly damning for him to finally reach the dreaded conclusion.

“I don’t usually run into you in places like this.”

Kabru had encountered you one evening after exiting his room and seeing you and a few party members at the bar. It was nothing short of a strike of luck, and most certainly not him deliberately staying home that evening because he’d overheard your plans to go out.

“Hm?” You perked up, looking at him with a blank expression that was quickly replaced with a kind smile. Even trying to look closely, he couldn’t find anything present in your face except for a simple joy.

He would approach you with long strides, placing one hand on the back of your chair as to be friendly and intimate, but not so intimate as to make you recoil from a touch. The wink he gave you was with the eye facing away from the others on the opposite side of the table, ensuring most of them wouldn’t notice his flirtatious gesture.

“Want me to buy you a drink?”

Immediately, you raised one hand in polite refusal, your smile turning into more of a sheepish one. “Oh, I don’t know if I’d be able to pay you back. I wasn’t going to splurge much tonight anyway….”

As you talked, Kabru pulled up a free chair and sat down, a gesture that cemented himself in the conversation and setting. He noticed when he sat down in the middle of conversation, it made people less likely to turn him away than if he were still standing.

“No, no.” when he shook his head, his dark curls did a swishing movement. Once he looked back at you, he gave a half-lidded smile, only a tinge sultry in hopes you’d pick up his hints. “Your company is more than enough payment for me.”

Your party could only stare on with absolute pity as you waved your previously raised hand dismissively, giving what Kabru could only assume was a reassuring nod. Why did you think he needed reassured….? What did you think he meant?

“It’s completely fine, no need to be polite! We’re beyond such niceties at this point, I’d say. After all, I consider us to be at least a little bit friends, right? You don’t need to buy me a drink just to hang out!”

For a brief period, Kabru felt as if his whole world was spinning around him, before then shattering at the unknowing sledgehammer of your words. These statements and mannerisms suggested something far more than just a passive rejection…… no, it was something much darker.

You truly were as dense as a brick wall.

anger

Kabru doesn’t always react….. too calmly when people defy his expectations.

He’s able to keep a smile on his face just fine, but on the inside he’s screaming.

What do you mean there isn’t more? Where’s the scheme? The ulterior motive? The familiar secrets he can unravel and use to his advantage? Is it so bad that he wants there to be more?????

I’ll be honest, the man experiences his fair number of homicidal thoughts about you. In a strangely romantic way!

You’ll be chatting away with him, each remark and flirtation absolutely flying over your head, and inside his mind he’s just going I should gut them right here and sort their bones and vitals by size if they won’t let me dissect them the mental way.

And then seconds later he’ll go haha what was that! Anyway yes tell me more about the cute bird you saw last week.

I think Kabru does a lot of journaling, so he has a fair number of notes about you. Sometimes they’re drawings of you with notes about your appearance and physical mannerisms, other times he writes more free form about his thoughts regarding you. When he gets particularly frustrated, the writing can became scratchy or heavy handed to the point that it’s unreadable or nearly tears the paper.

The silence and solitude of the night was briefly interrupted by Rin rolling over in her sleeping bag. She was just beyond the range of the firelight where Kabru was still writing, and he could only barely see the way she squinted at him through her own tiredness.

“What are you scribbling about so late at night?” The mage would try to start another sentence, but be cut off by a yawn. If she was trying to be intimidating, it certainly wasn’t working. “Go to bed, Kabru, or else you’ll wake up to being sprayed by an undine if I have anything to say about it.”

That was a rather unpleasant thought….. even if the threat wasn’t legitimate, Kabru recognized that he’d probably spent far more time writing than intended. It was embarrassingly easy to get distracted when it came to you….just another thing that irked him about you. Yes…..’irked’. That’s most certainly the word.

“I’ll wrap it up soon, sorry to disturb your sleep, Rin.” With a grumble, the girl rolled back over, leaving Kabru to glance at his notebook for just a brief moment more before closing it. The writing was near illegible, but he still knew the words by heart:

‘I wouldn’t mind if they were scared of me. Maybe, if they sat on the other end of my sword, trembling and wide-eyed like human prey, I’d get to see a truly untouched side of them.’

bargaining

After the shock and rage subsides, Kabru tries to make you realize his feelings through pretty much every method imaginable except for confessing.

It feels like the man always appears at your side, always claiming he ‘happened to be in the area’ or something similar. And you never even question it, infuriatingly for him.

Your party members often tell you that something is up with the guy, that he’s hanging around you a suspicious amount but never being fully transparent, but you’d feel so bad about being suspicious of him when he’s done nothing but inquire about you and even offer gifts on rare occasions!

Kabru isn’t exactly the richest of adventurers, so gifts or treating you isn’t a regular occasion, but it’s certainly something he resorts to as a last ditch effort to try and get you to realize that he’s interested in you romantically.

Once he even tried to offer you a flower, but you still didn’t take the hint.

When you saw the flower in Kabru’s hand that day, your first thought was being so flattered that he remembered your conversation about which ones you both liked.

“Oh, Kabru!” You exclaimed with pure joy, causing the man to become embarrassingly excited that perhaps you had finally noticed the meaning behind all his gestures. Were you finally moved and wowed by his considerate, perfectly planned gift.

Clapping your hands together, you would beam and say, “You liked my favorite flower so much that you wanted to get one for yourself?”

A fly could’ve soared down Kabru’s throat in the time of that pause, but you paid it no mind, instead eagerly awaiting his reply.

The look on Kabru’s face was a completely blank smile, his bright blue eyes seeming to have almost burned out like a pair of oil lamps. Then, as he regained his composure, those lights flickered back on again, albeit wavering slightly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take it yourself? If you like it so much, I’d be happy to let you take it home.” Poor Kabru, he should have learned by now that hints have no effect against the impenetrable fortress that is your cluelessness.

Your grin was the nail in the coffin, letting him know you had something in your head that was absolutely not anything he could anticipate from anyone else. “But why not use it as some decoration? Your party members always talk about how sparse your room is, and it could even remind you of me when I’m away! Here—“

You ushered him closer, a hand now on the small of his back giving him sparks that teetered between pleasurable and painful. The free hand gestured to the plant he held so delicately, pointing out different features like the petals, stem, and so on. “I can even tell you some facts about it; that’ll help you enjoy it that much more deeply whenever you see it! And you’ll remember our conversation!”

The way you could be so resistant to his advances yet so sweet to him could be nothing short of torturous sometimes.

depression

For a while, something fairly rare happens to Kabru: he falls into a slump.

He spends a long time in the dungeon, slashing away at monsters as if it might help him clear his head. His teammates notice that he can get more aggressive in combat than usual, but never really ask him about it.

He also becomes more spacey during mealtimes, and while some peaceful silence is nice, having Kabru of all people be so uncharacteristically quiet for so long.

It comes to the point that something similar to an intervention happens one day after dinner.

“What’s up with you, Kabru?” Mickbell wasn’t one to beat around the bush, immediately starting his line of questioning while looking at his teammate, void of mischief or amusement. “You’ve been all broody and silent all week. Can’t just expect us to not ask about it.”

“What Mickbell said,” Kuro concurred almost immediately after.

The tallman did his best to blink away his tiredness and offer a more confident look that he usually used when trying to rally his team under an idea or calm them down. “I didn’t mean to make you guys worry that much about me. It’s just something I’ve been personally interested in, so it’s not something you guys need to worry about.”

“A personal problem?” Rin cocked a brow. “If I know anything about what interests you, it’s probably a person.”

“Haha, caught me red-handed like always.” He raised his hands in faux surrender, though Rin didn’t seem to be put at ease by the gesture, so he tacked on another statement. “I was surprisingly stumped on what tactics to use when talking to a certain person, it’s really got me thinking.” Averting his gaze to the side, he could almost conjure an image of your grinning face in the corner of his vision. “It’s pretty exciting, though, so I don’t mind.”

“Ugh, I knew it!” The half foot threw his head back in exasperation, causing Kuro to extend one arm behind him in case he fell. “It’s that brick-headed adventurer you’re getting all cozy with, isn’t it?! What, you thinking of starting a new party?”

While Mickbell was busy stomping his foot to punctuate his accusation, Holm merely hummed. The gnome usually stayed pretty impartial to matters like this, but that didn’t mean he could always resist throwing in a comment or two.

“I’d be stumped too if I thought about human interaction like a battlefield.” His tone of voice remained soft, but his words were still quite pointed. “You really have to be upfront about your feelings sometimes, you know that? At least, if Mick’s description can actually be trusted.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

After those two broke down into petty squabbling, Kabru could merely try his best to mask his realization behind a tight-mouthed grin.

Holm was right, and he hated it more than anything.

acceptance

Okay, this is the part where Kabru actually bites the bullet and talks about his feelings. Truly a miracle of life.

Kabru can have a lot of trouble being fully vulnerable due to feeling like he’s losing control, so he does his best to maintain control over the rest of the outing. He arranges the time, location, even makes sure to get there first. It’s the most he can do to not feel completely helpless at the whims of his own fickle heart.

When you arrive, a new wave of nervousness hits him that’s almost like nothing before. Kabru has slain men without a second thought, and here he is resisting the urge to tremble because he has to tell his crush he likes them.

He starts off with small talk, sort of building up to his confession while also beating around the bush just a little. Asking you how you’ve been, if you’ve done anything noteworthy, if you’ve meet any new people…..

Eventually, Kabru decides that if he waits any longer, he may instinctually try to hide his intentions in the long strings of small talk he’s making, so he finally takes that leap.

He said your name, and your eyes flickered up to his face. Even if you were spacey at times, you never stared past him or through him whenever he was addressing you. It made him feel….strange. It was odd to feel truly perceived at times.

“Can I be….. terribly honest with you?” He cards his fingers through his curls and closes his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly beautiful he looked.

“Of course,” you responded without thinking. Not like you ever needed to think twice about your appreciation for the man. More than that, really.

There was stillness, and all you could hear was Kabru’s deep inhale through his nose. He intended to phrase it more eloquently, he really did, but when he opened his eyes again and saw you waiting on his words with baited breath, there was this instinctive fear that maybe this would be his only chance. That you would walk away or disappear, leaving him with only the memory.

He didn’t want just a memory.

“I want you to know that I love you above all else.”

Your mouth hung agape like his had many times in response to your own remarks. Were it not for how shocked he was at his own words, he would have chuckled at how cute you look.

Before he could even scramble to elaborate on his uncharacteristically blunt comment, you blurted out in a similar fashion, voice slightly raised and head perked up,

“You really feel that way?!”

Faced with your blushing face, Kabru could only affirm the feelings that you promoted from somewhere deep within him. “Yes, I’d been trying to win you over for a long time, really.”

If you were flushed before, then now you were nothing short of flooded with embarrassment from ear to ear. Despite this, you were smiling, wobbly and sheepish. “I mean, it’s not like I’m shocked in a bad way or anything — I always thought you were really wonderful, too wonderful for me anyway. I really never thought you were pursuing me of all people!”

For the longest time, your denseness had given Kabru untold grief. Upon seeing you state it so plainly, however, he just couldn’t find it in his heart to be upset. Not when it was one of the things that made you so fascinating.

“I’d sort of figured as such, yeah.”

#ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ fallow’s works!#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #kabru of utaya #kabru dungeon meshi #kabru x reader #kabru of utaya x reader

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steddiesupportgroup · 2 years

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In the between time of Starcourt and Vecna, Steve stopped putting his usual effort for dates. Sure, his hair looks good and he’s a gentleman, but it’s been a while since he’s fretted over what he’s gonna wear or which cologne he’s going for. In 4x1 he’s wearing the same shirt he wore when he dropped Robin off at school and at work. Maybe he thought, “Eh, it’s a fine shirt and I don’t need another shower.”

He can’t put his finger on when exactly he stopped trying to impress, or maybe he’s not even fully aware of it. Just…none of these girls excite him, give him that spark that he’s been looking for ever since breaking up with Nancy. He doesn’t have the energy to scrub his skin raw or make time to shave. He’s jaded, and what’s the point of cleaning his Nikes with a toothbrush when he’s not going to call them back anyway?

Then Eddie happens. He wears Eddie’s vest through the depths of hell and even though he’s bleeding and grimy, it makes him feel something. He buys those cargo pants that he tucks into combat boots and a brown leather jacket that reminds him of Eddie, and even though they have bigger fish to fry, he keeps thinking about what Eddie will think when he gets back into the RV, all earth tones and a skintight shirt underneath.

He saw Eddie looking in the boat, felt Eddie’s breath against his face when he smiled and purred, “Big boy,” and it awakens something that’s been sleeping in the depths of Steve’s gut for a long time.

Eddie thinks Steve looks good, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Steve wants to put in the effort.

When it’s all said and done and Vecna is defeated, something clicks back into place. Steve wears jeans that he knows makes his ass look amazing and shirts that are tight around his biceps. He digs out his favorite cologne that’s been collecting dust in the cabinet, the mere idea that Eddie might look at him for a little longer than necessary spurring on that thing Steve’s been missing so much.

And sure, Eddie pokes fun at his polo shirts and lack of graphic tees, but he’s still looking, right? Rakes his gorgeous eyes up and down Steve’s body when Steve picks up the kids from DnD, leans so close over the counter of Family Video that he knows Eddie can smell his mouthwash. Eddie starts staring at his hands, so Steve makes a point to keep his nails clean and trim, tries to stop picking at them when he’s nervous.

And that brown leather jacket turns out to be a great investment, because when the four of them meet at the movies on a Friday night, Eddie saunters up close, looks at Steve like he’s a five star meal, and reaches out to finger the collar.

“Lookin’ good, Harrington.”

Eddie says it with sparkling eyes and a sly grin that says this is all for fun because he still thinks Steve’s straight, but Steve got over that crisis a while ago. It’s summer and he’s beginning to sweat but it’s so worth it, because all he wants is for Eddie to tell him he looks good with his hands, run them under the jacket and call him “big boy” quiet enough for only Steve to hear.

It’s all for you, Steve wants to say, and the truth of it makes his heart burst into flames in the best way.

It feels like a breath of fresh air to have Eddie’s attention on him like this, to be told that his effort was worth it by someone who excites him so much. For the first time Steve’s reputation can’t speak for him, he has to work for what he wants.

He rediscovers the joy of getting all done up for someone, dizzy with the knowledge that it’s for Eddie.

#another pre-work drabble #me? setting up Steve’s praise kink? absolutely #Steve takes forever and a day to get ready before seeing Eddie and Robin calls him out on it #steddie #steddie headcanons #steve harrington #steve x eddie

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 9 months

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Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n I mean won't lie really though I would write more than one part but look at us. But wow, thank you all for the love and support!🤍✨

warning: that same angsty struggle bus.

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Carmy had been awake for some time now. Well, he had been slipping in and out of sleep ever since his usual alarm chimed through the quiet and dark bedroom. Five sharp. You had also stirred, pushing against his chest almost robotically as you moved to get up. You were so used to doing that while half asleep that you didn't even rub your eyes to wake yourself up in the slightest. Just as Carmy had gently tightened his grip around you, "Lay down", he muttered softly. You didn't fight him, nestling your head in the crook of Carmy's neck. He once again placed your bandaged hand on his chest. "Five more minutes", you muttered, but Carmy only shushed you gently, running his fingers through your hair. "I won't sleep, just...", you muttered, a smile tugging on Carmy's lips. You were going to fall asleep. If you hadn't already.

It was as if someone had ripped the blindfold off his eyes yesterday. Only yesterday, right before falling asleep, did Carmy notice how tired you looked, how your cheeks had sunken in slightly, and how your skin looked paler. He hated it because that was what he had driven you to. So right before sleep took over, he promised himself to skip tomorrow. Richie was playing big balls anyway. Maybe allowing him a day to do everything himself would be an eye-opener. Well, Carmen still planned to be there for lunch and dinner. He was too anxious to fully leave the restaurant without watch, but he could let himself miss the breakfast rush. For you.

Carmy pulled your leg further up so it lay comfortably over his legs. Fingers holding onto your naked thigh as he drew different patterns. He brought your hand, resting on his chest, to his lips. Something he had done constantly ever since it was placed there. Staying completely still from time to time just so he could listen to your breathing.

Carmen had also let his mind wander to the dinner when he told Mikey about you. "And there's something more, actually", he had muttered after Mikey had looked over the present in his hands. Carmy remembers feeling stupid almost instantly. Like an idiot. He had thought so much. Running it over and over in his head. He knew that he didn't want to tell anyone else about you. But for some reason, he wanted to let Mikey know.

"You're spoiling me", Mikey joked. "It's not a physical gift... not a gift at all... not related... well", Carmy had stuttered all over, hands running through his hair clumsily, "I met a girl, and I just... we're dating". Back then, Carmen had missed it, but now, looking back at the memory, he was convinced that something sparked within Mikey's eyes. Hope? Joy? Some strange emotions that Carmen hadn't seen before. But one thing Carmen remembered very clearly. It's the words that Mikey had said while clasping his shoulder: "Don't you fucking dare break her heart. She's the best thing that's ever happened to you". Those words had sparked all these emotions back then, and Carmy had said nothing in return. Now he would have said that he knew. Even before all the shit went titts up, Carmen knew that you would be there for him. Through it all.

Now he wanted nothing more but to lecture himself on how he had chosen to neglect you. He felt guilty for just pushing you headfirst into things that were not at all important to you. Carmen didn't even remember the last time he saw you with a brush between your fingers. Did you even have paint in this apartment? Well, you haven't even unpacked the boxes. Living out of them as if wishing that one morning you two will wake up and realize that all of this has just been a nightmare. That you were still growing individually, happy in your own tiny, chaotic bubble. Not sacrificing everything for one another constantly.

You stirred slightly in Carmy's embrace, and he instantly snapped himself out of the trance, moving to run his fingers over your skin in hopes of keeping you sleeping a bit longer. He had forgotten how uneasy your sleep was. Carmen let you hold him through the nights now, following everything that had happened, and stopped paying attention to your nightmares. Fears.

"Hey", your light, groggy voice filled the silence, and Carmy instantly looked down at you. "Hi", he whispered back. A light smile casts across your face, and Carmy wishes he could freeze it in time, especially when it's so quickly replaced by a frown and you shuffle to get up, peeking over at the clock standing on the bedside table. "Shit, fuck, Carm, we are late", you quickly reach for the covers, but Carmy only tightens his grip on you.

"We're not", he mutters, and you look at him all confused. "It's past eight! We have... We haven't... the food". Carmy watches you before moving to lift himself higher on his elbows, one hand reaching for your face. "I know what time it is and what hasn't been done. Just...", he swallows thickly, "Just after last night... After last night, I thought we needed to have a slow morning". And you did have the best sleep in a long time. Leaving your body almost feeling funny at the number of hours it had finally had to rest. You let yourself just sit there. On the thing you two called bed, that was nothing more than a matter on the floor. Carmy slowly ran his fingers over your exposed thighs, not rushing you to wake yourself up fully.

"Do you remember how you would sneak into my room back in New York?", you muttered, and Carmy's cheeks grew pink instantly. You were truly his first crush back then. His first in many ways. He didn't know what longing for someone felt like until you were there, only a door away, and he couldn't go without saying goodbye, without a kiss on your cheek. Awkward as fuck was he with you back then, but you loved him regardless. "Which time when I kiss you or break your bed?", he said in an almost teasing manner, and you let out a chuckle, lowering down to lay beside him once more. "You said it was an accident, but I never bought it. You did it on purpose", you said, tapping your finger on his chest. "How else was I supposed to make sure that you slept with me every night?", Carmy stated, and you burst out laughing, because indeed, ever since then, you had always slept in Carmy's bed.

"I've missed you like this", he muttered, and you instantly tilted your head up so you could see his face. "What do you mean?", "So... so you... just you and alive", he said, and you bit the inside of your cheek. You wanted to tell him that he had nothing to do with it and that it was just life. A series of bad events, but you didn't. Not in the way you wished you would have. "I want you to be okay", you muttered, "If that means losing a part of me, so be it." Carmy nodded, but you could tell that he was slowly slipping back into his head. "I love you", you muttered in hopes of still dragging him out, but he never said it back. Not with words, at least. Carmy pulled you closer to his chest, gently pressing a couple of kisses to the crown of your head.

You two walked hand in hand down towards the restaurant. Talking on and on about little things. The potential slots of free time to finally unpack, the furniture sale down the block from where you lived next Friday. You could tell that the closer you got to the restaurant, the more fidgety he got. His lips thinned, and he dropped your hand so he could pull out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one up as he went. The ache within your chest grew, but then it was your fault for believing that everything could just change in a day.

Tina dropped her cigarette as she saw you two approaching; her hands moved to cup your face as she looked you over, "Oh, mi hija, I was worried sick". You smiled at her, pressing your hands over hers, "All okay, no more bleeding on the counter, chef". You could tell from the look in her eyes that the worry wasn't all just based on the injury; there was more. You walked out, and here you were again. But she dropped it, glancing at Carmy for a moment before bringing you into a quick hug. "You deserve better", Tina muttered, only for you to hear. You pulled away, slightly startled by her words. Turning your head to where Carmy stood, you found an empty spot there.

The cigarette was carelessly burning between your fingers. You had closed the door to the office the moment you stepped inside and had only now slipped out for a smoke. You did catch Richie's gaze from across the hall—maybe even a need to strike up a conversation—but then again, he was most definitely going to scream or say some shit, so you were more than glad to just leave it all behind the wooden door.

"Oh, I...", you didn't hear the crack on the door but managed to catch a glimpse of Sydney, who was already on her way back inside. "No, no, stay; there's enough space for two here", she laughed nervously at your words but stepped out without a second thought. Sitting down on the ledge beside you, Sydney sipped the water out of the plastic jug. "How's your hand?", she asked, pointing to the bandage after a few moments. You looked down to examine it yourself. It still ached slightly, but if you were being honest, you didn't feel it that much now.

"In place", you muttered, clenching and unclenching your fingers. "How's the kitchen?", you threw a glance her way, "Not on fire", she shrugged her shoulders. "Yet", you both said at the same time, and you bust out into fits of giggles once your eyes meet. "I saw the... well, the book of suggestions you have for this place", you said, tapping the cigarette against the edge of the ashtray. Sydney instantly tensed again, "Oh, don't take it personally; just I was messing around and...", "It looked well thought out to me", you said calmly. She was exactly what this place needed. Someone with a head. Well, a well-working head at that. And passion. Finding joy in the hustle of the kitchen. She had that same drive that Carmy used to have back in the day. The glistening spark in her eyes.

"I'm not saying that this place is run badly", Sydney rubbed her hands together nervously, and you instantly threw her a look, so she sighed, knowing full well what it meant. "No, okay, it's shit", she admitted. And she was right. Carmy had too much on his hands. If he was focused on one part, the other was suffering. A never-ending cycle. "I'll make sure Carmy looks through it", You smiled at her softly, and she returned the gesture.

"You two...", Sydney said awkwardly, not daring to fully finish her thought. You nodded your head, letting another cloud of smoke slip past your lips. "We're dating, yeah," if you take dating in its most basic form. It was funny that you had to double-check in your brain if Carmen had asked you out properly. "He had some serious beef with Richie today", you turn your head to Sydney instantly at the sound of that. "Bout what?", "You", your gaze is focused on Sydney, and you two just stay like that for a moment.

Then you let your shoulders slump, running a hand through your hair. "Mmm, Richie specializes in hating me", you muttered, not daring to look back at the girl next to you. Yet you wondered what had happened. Had Richie finally gone to Carmy? Had he said it all the same way he's been saying it to you? Listing the reasons why you shouldn't be here. Why Carmy should have never fallen for you.

"He looked pretty worried to me, but then again, I don't know them much", and Sydney's words seem genuine, but you just couldn't fathom how Richie and worried could go in the same sentence. Especially when it came to you. "Don't pay them much attention", you muttered, moving to crush your cigarette. You stepped closer to the door, ready to disappear before halting. "Hey, Sydney", you said, catching her gaze from across the side alley. "You're doing great so far. Proud of you", the rawest form of emotion ran through her eyes and features. She didn't say anything; she just nodded her head, but you knew she needed it, and you were glad you could give it to her.

You were sorting through the last bin full of letters and papers when Carmy walked in, a plate in his hand. "Late lunch for my girl", he said with a light smile, and you instantly moved the pile to the side. "What's this princess treatment I'm getting?", you teased him, and Carmen's gaze instantly tightened. You knew well that one way he expressed his love was through food. Words failed him almost always. Actions... Also, something he needed to improve, but one thing that always stayed true was making food. The meals he prepared said it all. They carried love, and the little details showed just how much thought went into them.

"I don't recognize this place", Carmy said, looking around the tiny office. "Can you believe that you have a desk?", you said, pointing to the now junk-free space. You hadn't seen that surface since you stepped in here, and now you're looking at that white surface. It felt as if there was more breathing space here. "No, I thought about getting a new one", Carmy sat down beside you, eyes watching every bite you took. That was another thing that he did. Watching you eat, looking out for reactions. For anything that might indicate your feelings from within.

"This is delightful, chef", you said, mouth full of the sandwich. "Richie hates it", Carmy said in return, throwing his head back in frustration. "Richie hates most things; his judgment shouldn't be something you take so personally", you reached for Carmy's hand, rubbing your fingers over the shell of it. "He's a big part of this", Carmy breathed out again, moving to nuzzle closer to your side. The side hug was uncomfortable, with him nearly meandering over you and his head hitting your thighs, but you let him recharge for a moment. Knowing that he's been at the battlefield all day.

"Will you help with family tonight?", he asked again after some time. "I mean, would you like to", he corrected his own words quickly before lifting his eyes to you. You brushed his messy curls away from his face. "I will; I just want to sort through the last box, and I'll come out", You wanted to make sure that you had looked, opened, and added up all the bills. This place needed to start running smoothly. So getting the finances straight was important. "Don't rush", Carmy said, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck before cupping the side of your face. "And eat this. I want a clean plate, chef". You rolled your eyes, leaning in to softly kiss his lips. "Heard, chef", you muttered, watching him leave.

The phone pinged at the side of the table right as you were sorting out the last bits of paperwork. Gosh, you just hoped the last payment you made today would kill the never-ending fire of phone calls, messages, and emails, but the happiness was short-lived. You picked it up without double-checking it. Flipping the screen towards your face then your body stilled. You did a double-take. Closing your eyes and opening them up again. Blinking rapidly for a bit, but it still read Claire: I'm so glad I got to see you again. Your guts twisted. A cold shiver ran through your spine, making your fingers tingle. Panic rose in your chest. Who the hell was Claire, and when had Carmy met up with her? He didn't mention going anywhere. Was she someone he knew? Maybe it was nothing and you were reading into... Another ping slit the silence: Hopefully, we'll see each other soon. I miss your silly face already. You bit the insides of your cheeks, feeling the metallic taste almost immediately. You stared at it for a moment. Letting the words sink in before locking Carmy's phone and placing it back where it was.

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Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto #the bear x reader #carmy the bear #the bear imagine #the bear tv show

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sashacantthinkofauser · 1 day

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Interested - A.P

In which - Y/n, the new Barcelona youngster from England, catches the captain, Alexia Putellas’ eye.

Warnings- none!

It was a special day for two reasons, why? One, because it was raining, it never rained in Barcelona, so the inhabitants saw it as a blessing. And two, because it was Y/ns first training session with the Barcelona squad.

Y/n was from London and was more than used to cold weather, so when she found herself outside the Barcelona training campus, arms wrapped around herself as she shivered, she was less than affected.

But who was she waiting for? She wished she knew. She was told that a fellow teammate would come by to show her around, she wasn’t given any names, so she just had to hope the teammate hadn’t forgot.

It took a good 10 minutes before Y/n saw a person in a Barcelona training kit, even from afar she could tell who it was, and her eyes widened in shock. Alexia Putellas, the same women she looked up to just a year or two ago.

As Alexia approached the player, her eyes had a special spark in them, as she eyed the women down she couldn’t help but grin and bite her lip. Alexia stopped just infront of Y/n, grinning from ear to ear before speaking.

“Your Y/n L/n? The new player, right?” Spoke in a curious yet calm tone, masking her unusual interest rather well.

Y/n nodded her head frantically, smiling brightly as she responded full of joy at meeting her idol. “Yeah. It’s a honour to meet you, Alexia.” She spoke full of admiration.

Alexia smirked, she was so used to getting treated highly that she mostly never bothered to respond with the same respect, but with this girl in particular she felt the urge to compliment her back.

“Thank you thank you.” She spoke while smiling. “Your also really good, we signed you for a reason you know?” She put her hand on the youngsters shoulder, showing that the words weren’t fake.

Y/n couldn’t believe herself, her idol was complimenting her? Fuck she may just retire tomorrow! Just as she was about to respond Alexia pushed in again.

“Anyway, I’m giving you a tour remember? Let’s get moving.” She spoke, almost in a excited tone, she was never like that, she always felt the need to show no admiration towards other athletes, she thought it was a sign of weakness, something she wasn’t used to.

Part two???

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #lionesses #alexia putellas #fc barcelona #barcelona femeni #spain women's national team #mapi leon #awfc #fc barca #katie mccabe #alessia russo #ella toone

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callsign-relic · 8 months

Note

touch starved rodimus. I can't stop thinking about touch starved rodimus. he just seems like the physically affectionate type so I would love to request a fluffy piece between him and a human fem!reader that gets him a little emotional bc physical touch isn't something he got often before they met 🥺 sfw pls? 🥹 love ur writing<3

Anon, this was such a big brained idea. I absolutely loved writing this. I mean I love writing Roddy any chance I can get HAHA, but physical affection seems perfect for him, so this was a joy to write. I hope you enjoy :) and thank you for enjoying my writing!!!

Warnings: SFW, Fem!Human!Reader

Rodimus was entirely unsure of himself right now.

That fact was astounding to him. He was Rodimus, captain of the Lost Light. Rodimus, capable leader, yet friend foremost. Rodimus, overall cool guy.

Yet here he was, spark pounding in his chassis in a tizzy, hesitant to even shift his weight about as he lay on his berth in his habsuite, with you laying right up against his sensitive neck cabling.

In your half-asleep daze, you paw at the thick wires, one arm doing its best to wrap around the length while the other raises itself to graze his jaw. The mech’s vents hitch— you were so close to him, not even aware of what your tiny little frame was doing to him, yet he was frozen anyway.

He could call for you, awaken you from your stupor. But that would require him to disturb you in such a rare moment of peace. Slowly— slower than he thought he had ever moved before— Rodimus turns his head from facing upwards into the ceiling, to gazing down at you. You were caught in a daze between consciousness and slumber, yet you looked so beautiful all the same.

Eventually, he moves his entire form to face you, daring to raise a servo up behind you to cup you within. In your tossing and turning, you shift upwards from his neck, all the way up to his face. Groggily, your eyes slowly peel themselves open, yet never open wider than half-lidded.

“Rodimus…?” Your voice rumbles, quiet from disuse. The captain blinks, stammering for a moment as he scrambles to reply.

“Oh, uh— yeah?” He begins, voice no higher than a whisper. “Sorry if I woke you, just try and go back to—“

His words, however, are swiftly cut off by your own movements. You run a hand down the cool, white metal of his cheek, giggling drowsily to yourself. “‘S so warm… but you’re nice an’ cool.” Then, you scooch right up against the mech’s face. You land a gentle kiss onto his top lip before scooting further upwards, the length of your body resting perfectly against his nose.

Rodimus felt as though he couldn’t even breathe. Not out of anxiety— though that definitely contributed to that fact— but rather he felt that any little motion he made would jostle you in your spot, and that you’d leave. No other person had ever gotten so close to him before, and the fact that he couldn’t scoop you up into his servos and hold you tight into his chassis was driving him crazy.

Carefully, he moves that yellow servo closer towards you, extending a single digit to run it across the length of your back in slow, repeated motions. You release a low hum in reply, only pressing your little body against him further. Your human frame was so warm, so lively and soft and squishy and—

The captain couldn’t help himself as his fingers wrapped themselves around you, pulling you down from his nose. You grunt a little in confusion, raising your head as you look around in your haze. No longer were you huddled up against the bridge of his nose, rather, you were bright back down near his dermas. Gently, the mech leaned in, placing a kiss on the side of your face that nearly took up the entire expanse of your head.

The feeling of his dermas on your face was an odd sensation, to be sure. They weren’t as hard as the outer layers of his armor plating, but not nearly as malleable as the small bits of protoform peeking through it all. It was certainly gentle, however, despite how you could feel the rush of air move in and out of his intake through the part in his lips.

Still somehow not awake enough to even ask what brought about this sudden behavior, you merely giggle to yourself some more, playfully pushing away at his dermas as they continue to press themselves over you. Unbeknownst to you, that only caused Rodimus’ spark to flutter ever further in its chamber. The feeling of your little hands up against him barely registered themselves into the systems of his nervecircuits, yet they were there all the same.

With the hand that encircled you, he raises a thumb up and over your head, running down the length of your hair in the same repeated movements as he did to your spine mere moments ago. “You’re so cute,” he murmurs, though the proximity makes his voice rumble through your entire self. “What did I do to deserve someone like you?”

You only chuckle in reply, pulling yourself away from his lips and back up towards his nose. Though the mech wished he could just kiss you more, he released his hands enough for you to move. “Like that’s even a question,” you drawl, extending an arm to run up and down the bridge of his pure white nose. “‘Cause you’re Rodimus, duh.”

The captain’s spark felt as though it was going to burst then and there. He couldn’t help but laugh as he once again wrapped his hands around you, gently cupping you as close to himself as he could. He could only do so much with your tiny frame, but he knew that rubbing another digit along the length of your body would suffice.

“You know what? You’re right. Why did I even ask?”

#relic writes #transformers #transformers x reader #reader insert #tf x reader #rodimus #rodimus Prime #rodimus x reader #rodimus Transformers #transformers rodimus #more than meets the eye #MTMTE #MTMTE x reader #lost light #transformers lost light #lost light x reader

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punkshort · 8 months

Text

Chapter warnings: language, angst, references to SA, depression, PTSD, some mild sexual talk

A/N: I live nowhere near the places we talk about below, I relied heavily on google maps

Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

July 2004

Denver, CO

It's been a little over a month since you and Joel fled Kansas City. Joel was determined to create as much distance as quickly as possible, focusing every day on walking as far as your legs would take you. At first, he was terrified of Amy's people coming after you when they inevitably found Keith's body. Once it became more and more unlikely that you would cross paths with them, his anxiety shifted to the terrain. There wasn't much cover between Kansas City and Denver, it being mostly open plains, so it encouraged Joel to constantly keep moving. He told you these excuses to keep you traveling west, towards the mountains, but what he didn't say was he wanted the distraction. For both you and for him.

Every spare moment he had he found himself reliving that horrible night, the things you went through while he failed to keep you safe. While fucking Amy was coming onto him in that shitty little office. He had never told you about his interaction with her. He knew right now it could be the very thing that would break you. He didn't see the point in it anyway, nothing had happened, but in the interest of being completely honest, he planned to tell you one day. Just not now. Right now, you were an absolute mess, like a fragile flower that had been ruthlessly stomped on and was desperately clinging to life. It broke his heart to look at your sullen features every day, features that used to be filled with so much joy and warmth. He couldn't even remember the last time he saw you smile or saw a spark in your eye.

Once your shock wore off, he found out very quickly that you didn't want to be touched. That first night when he made camp, after he got you out of the city limits and back into the forest as deep as you could go in the pitch black of night, he tried to hold you, tried to talk about what happened. But you had jumped at his touch, scrambling away with your eyes wild, nearly tripping over your feet. You apologized to him, and you forced yourself to let him hug you, but he could feel how tense you were in his arms, how uncomfortable you were, and his heart shattered. You had been through enough and he wasn't going to force you to do anything, even if it killed him every time he caught himself instinctually reaching out to you at night. He left it in your hands to make the first move. When you were ready, he knew you would. But it's been over a month, and you hadn't tried to touch him, even to hold his hand or to tap his shoulder to get his attention. He knew not to take it personally, that it wasn't his touch, but it was any touch that you despised. Even though he knew this, his heart and body still ached for you.

You would talk to him, although it wasn't ever playful or flirty anymore. Mostly just about survival. He felt like you were distant and detached, like you were on autopilot. You never mentioned the assault, and he didn't bring it up. He knew it was his fault. It ate him alive, and he carried that burden with him every day. Selfishly, he felt like he was grieving a loss. The loss of the person you once were. And he was terrified he was never going to get you back.

Joel did the only thing he could think of, and that was to give you space. He knew you needed to process your trauma and he didn't want to force you through it. So, he gave you space, but he physically never let you out of his sight. He was never going to make that mistake again. He wouldn't ever tell you that even when you said you needed to pee, he would follow you just enough to keep an eye on you. He definitely would never tell you that when he followed you, he watched you sob quietly into your hands for a few minutes almost every day, at least once a day. Most often he had to fight the urge to cry himself. It destroyed him that you kept your emotions hidden, that you didn't feel comfortable expressing your grief to him.

Before you entered the community in Kansas City, you had said to him "us or them, right?" And he told you yes, it was always the both of you against the world. It was beginning to feel like there was no more "us", that his broken promise destroyed everything. Even when you had to kill someone for the first time, it ripped you apart, but you still went to him for comfort. You sobbed in his arms until you ran out of breath, and then he tried to fix it for you. Afterwards, you were distant, but he was able to draw you back out. This was not like that time. Nothing he did worked, and his grief was morphing into fear. Fear of losing you forever.

"Joel?" you quietly called out behind him, and his head snapped around to face you, desperate for anything you offered him.

"Can we rest soon?" you asked, shifting your backpack on your shoulders. "It's so hot, and I -"

"Yeah, 'course, let's stop here. There's a stream I saw nearby, I can still hear it. We can fill our canteens and wash up a bit," he was too overeager, he knew it, as he tried to give you anything you wanted. You flopped down on a broken tree trunk and hung your head between your knees. He rustled around in his pack until he found some unopened trail mix and a can of chicken. He reached both out to you, waving them low to the ground so you would see. You saw the chicken and brought your head back up to meet his gaze, your jaw hanging open.

"When did you get that?" It was never a favorite of yours before the world ended, but you developed a taste for it over time, growing sick of the same old granola bars and soup.

He couldn't help but smile. You weren't the happiest he’d ever seen you, but some color returned to your face, and that was progress in his book.

"Found it in that rest stop yesterday. Wanted to surprise you," he shook the can and the trail mix, urging you to take it from him. You were so eager that your fingers accidentally slid along his, and his heart leapt into his throat. For once, you didn't flinch at the contact, or maybe in your excitement you didn't notice, but either way he had a hard time wiping the smile off his face.

He sat on the forest floor across from you and ate some beef jerky, admiring the trees. According to his map, you were on the west side of Denver now, in the middle of a huge cluster of mountains and forests. He noticed you seemed more at ease in nature. More protected. He had been to Yellowstone with Tommy in his 20s, and he had fond memories of the trip. Tommy always used to talk about it, and even had pictures framed in his office. He didn't mention it to you yet, but his goal was to take you there. Maybe it would give you peace the way it brought him peace in his memories. He remembered there being tons of campgrounds. He liked to imagine finding a safe and secluded area and fixing up a cabin to have a wraparound porch with blue shutters. He knew it was a long shot, but it was the one fantasy he allowed himself to have.

"We've been walking for so long, and it's been so hot," you said, breaking the silence. "Do you think if we find a place, maybe we can stay for a bit? Until the weather breaks?" You looked up at him from your food, eyes hopeful. He could never say no to you. Yellowstone can wait.

"Yes," he said, "I'm sorry. Next time we find a shelter that's in good shape, we can lay low for a while."

"You don't need to be sorry," you said, picking at your trail mix.

"Yeah, I do." Joel replied, his eyebrows bunched together. You regarded him carefully, reading between the lines.

You didn't want to bring it up. You didn't want to think about it. You shifted your weight uncomfortably on the tree and looked at the ground.

"You wanna go wash up in that stream? I'll keep watch, don't know if we'll get another chance for a while," he said, changing the subject immediately. You could see the pain he was hiding behind his eyes, you saw it every day. You wanted to reach out to him, to help relieve his guilt, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. Not because you thought it was his fault, although early on you admittedly did blame him. It was too much to process back then. Your own grief and trauma was taking precedence, and you had to let Joel work through his emotions on his own. The weight of what happened was holding you down so intensely that you couldn't bring yourself to take on one more thing.

"Yeah, sure," you said, finishing up your food and digging around your pack for some fresh clothes and a small towel.

Joel did exactly as he said he would. He stood guard while you washed up, your backs to each other as you peeled off each piece of clothing and cleansed the skin underneath it, before putting fresh clothes over and moving on to the next area. You weren't comfortable being fully exposed, and he understood that. You never really were comfortable with it in the woods. But it still made his chest ache. Like something was stolen from you that day, and he missed it.

It wasn't until three days later that you found a small cabin. From the looks of it, Joel guessed it was part of the national parks department, a place for service rangers to rest or call for help when on patrol. It only had a bedroom, a half bathroom, a small seating area and a kitchen that looked more like a breakroom. But it was secluded, and it was safe, so Joel agreed to set up camp for a while.

He was pleased to find a fully stocked first aid kit, no doubt courtesy of the government, as well as a reasonable amount of dried goods and clean linens. There was one rifle locked in a cabinet which was easily broken into with his hunting knife, just in case he needed the spare weapon. He wasn't sure how long you would end up staying there. He didn't want to rush you, there was no point. Nothing was out there for you, anyway. But he always imagined finding you a house bigger than this.

As Joel was taking inventory of the goods, you walked around the small space. There was a huge map above the couch that you examined. It was a close up of the forests you were currently in. You trailed your finger down the map, looking at how far the two of you had walked in the past month. The hilly terrain made your accomplishment all the more impressive. Joel had been watching you out of the corner of his eye when you spoke.

"We're close to the Wyoming border," you said, your eyes lifting towards the top of the map, but the state in question was cut off. Joel cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I know. Hey, I was thinkin'," he began, flattening his hands on the kitchen counter, "What do you think 'bout headin' to Yellowstone? You ever been?" You shook your head.

"No, what's in Yellowstone?" You turned to him now. His chest ached at how tired you looked.

"Well, nothin' really. I was there once. With Tommy, when we were younger. It's lots of land, forests, hills. Figured it might be safe," at the word safe, his eyes turned down to look at the counter and his fingers brushed over the keychain in his pocket, unable to look you in the eye. "Lots of campgrounds, some real nice ones. Maybe we find someplace we can call home."

You don't know why you never considered the destination before now. You always imagined the pair of you would always be on the move, always looking for something that inevitably didn't exist. Joel had always been so adamant about having a goal: finding your parents, finding Tommy, finding a community. He had never suggested just stopping and living your lives together, alone.

"What about Tommy?" you asked him quietly. Ever since he mentioned finding his brother all those months ago, you knew it was a lost cause. He could be anywhere; he could be dead. In all likelihood, he probably was dead. But that wasn't for you to decide. Joel needed to come to that conclusion on his own. And it finally seemed like he did.

"I ain't gonna find Tommy, it was a dumb idea in the first place," he said, a fist clenching as he rapped his knuckles on the counter. "We need to find someplace before winter. I don't wanna be out in the snow like last year. I just-" he kept his eyes cast down and gave a small shrug, "I just wanna be with you."

You turned away as you felt the tears stinging the backs of your eyes. You knew he was trying, and you knew the way you pulled away from him hurt. You tried. You really did. But every time you hyped yourself up to touch him, to let him touch you, you felt the bile rising in the back of your throat. It wasn't fair, it didn't have anything to do with your feelings for him. But it was like your body just couldn't accept it, that you physically recoiled from the slightest touch, and you couldn't control it. Your mind wanted to reach out and comfort him, but your body kept you firmly planted on the worn wooden floors.

"That sounds nice," you told him, looking back at the map. His eyes shot up at your words, his eyebrows raised. Relief flooded through him, hearing that you liked his plan. Maybe one day, many years later, the two of you would find a community or other people to trust, but for now, it could just be the two of you.

"Alright, then," he said, straightening up. "In the meantime, let's stay here awhile. Wait for this heat to break. I figure we can make it to Yellowstone by October if we really push. Before the snow flies," he chewed his lip and glanced at his watch. There was enough daylight left to go gather some wood for a fire and maybe even shoot a rabbit, if he was lucky. But he didn't want to leave you alone.

"You wanna come with me, explore the area a bit?" he asked, trying to sound casual. But you knew what he was doing. He hadn't left you alone for a month. You didn't push back, you let him be protective. It was the least you could do if you couldn't bring yourself to open up to him. You nodded and leaned over to pull your pack back on.

"Sure," you said, slinging your bow over your back and followed him out the door, back into the summer heat.

The next few weeks were pretty much the same. The two of you scavenged for food in the mornings, before the heat became too oppressive and the animals hid. You spent your afternoons reading or napping while Joel skinned whatever animal you managed to kill that day and gathered wood and dead brush on the outskirts of the cabin, never straying far and finding excuses to come inside and check on you every so often. There was a small creek about a 10 minute walk south of the cabin where you would both go to fill up your canteens in the late afternoon and take turns bathing. Then he would start a fire to cook the meat while you prepared some instant potatoes, or rice, or anything else you found. Your dry and canned goods were starting to run low, so you used them sparingly. After you ate, you spent some time outside, soaking up the sun or reading. Joel would always stay close, sometimes walking a circuit around the cabin or reviewing some more detailed maps of the area left behind by the park rangers. At night, you shared the small bed, guiltily clinging to the edge of the mattress to create as much distance as possible, holding back your tears until he fell asleep.

It must have been the end of August by now. The days were hot, but the nights were cool, indicating fall was around the corner. You remembered Joel's plan to reach Yellowstone by October, so you knew your time at the cabin was coming to an end. You were fine with that. The cabin served its purpose. It kept you dry and safe so you could both rest your bodies before the month-long trek ahead of you. And with your food supplies dwindling, you knew it was time to move on. Joel didn't say anything, didn't want to push you into leaving, so you brought it up on your own, asking him when he thought you should head out. He seemed surprised that morning, expecting you to want to stay longer. He searched your eyes to make sure you weren't bringing it up because you felt he wanted to go, that you wanted to leave on your own volition.

"Why don't we plan on leavin' in a couple days?" he offered, and you nodded, finishing up your bowl of blackberries from a bush you had found not too far from the cabin.

"I was thinkin', I saw some deer at that creek few days ago. Maybe I can get us one and we can make some jerky. Should only take half a day to cook it. It'll give us somethin' til we find more food on the way," he glanced up to look at you. "You wanna come with me? Bring that bow of yours, it's quieter." He already knew the answer, but he always asked you, anyway. He wanted to give you the choice. If you ever said no, which was rare, he would just skip hunting and make do until the next day.

"Yep, sounds good," you said, getting up to rinse your bowl in the sink with the rest of the water from your canteen. "I need to refill these, anyway." You placed them both by the door and walked into the bedroom to change, closing the door behind you. Joel's eyes remained glued to the door as he tried to stifle his sadness. Any time he thought you were making progress, something happened to remind him how damaged you were. Something like closing the door to change in private made him rub his chest. You never would have bothered before. He was beginning to think he would never get back what he had with you. That those animals stole something from you, and he fucking let them. He swiped at the corner of his eye before he stood up and gathered his things. He was checking to make sure the rifle was loaded when you came out of the bedroom, slinging your bow over your shoulder, ready to go.

As you approached the creek, he held out a hand to his side to signify that you should be quiet and slow, watching your step to make sure you didn't potentially scare anything away. You got to the creek and didn't see anything, so you stooped down to refill your canteens, then followed Joel to a boulder not far down on the side of the creek, posting up to wait for any deer who might come to get a drink on the warm summer day.

You sat in silence, watching the sun move above the trees and the sunlight dappling the forest floor. Joel kept his head turned towards the creek, but you stared directly ahead into the forest, lost in thought. You nearly jumped when Joel cleared his throat as quietly as he could, not wanting to touch you, to get your attention. You looked and saw a doe about 15 yards away, standing in front of the creek, flicking her ears and glancing around hesitantly before bringing her head down to the cool water. You handed Joel your bow and he took it without looking, eyes fixed on the deer, as he leaned forward on one knee and loaded an arrow, drawing back. You saw a flutter of movement in a bush next to the doe and let out a soft gasp as you watched a baby fawn stumble out from the thicket, legs still shaky.

You reached your hand out and placed it on Joel's shoulder, stopping him from shooting. He didn't realize he was so touched starved until the contact nearly made him fall over. Keeping his fingers on the arrow, he disengaged the string slowly, letting his arms fall to his sides. He sat back next to you, taking the pressure off his knee and tried not to chase after your touch when you let your hand drop. You both sat and watched the deer together, as the new life stumbled forward to hide under its mother while she continued to drink. It started as a single tear, and then before you knew it your cheeks were damp from the steady flow as you silently cried. Joel turned his head to look for your reaction when the fawn tucked its long legs underneath its body to rest against the doe, only then noticing your tears.

"You alright?" He whispered, face etched with concern and his fists clenching at his side to keep from reaching out to you. You just shook your head and buried your face in your open palms as a shaky sob erupted from your throat. You rocked back and forth, your face still hidden in your hands, while Joel struggled with how to help, his arms reaching out, hovering in the air, and bringing them back. Then, to his surprise, you dropped your hands and lunged yourself forward into his chest, your face pressed against his tanned neck and your arms wrapped around his torso as your body shook. He immediately pinned you to him, his arms holding you as tight as he dared, his cheek resting on the top of your head. He slid a hand up from your back to cradle your head, your tears running down his neck and chest. He leaned back against the boulder, pulling you with him. You clutched the front of his flannel in your fist, your face still streaming with tears, wailing against his chest while he rocked you back and forth. His eyes were burning with the tears he refused to release, desperately trying to be strong for you.

"I got you, sweetheart, I got you," he murmured in your hair.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you cried, burying your face further into his neck as fresh sobs wracked your body. He shook his head fiercely back and forth, even though you couldn't see him, and two tears made their way down his face.

"Don't you dare apologize, you did nothin' wrong, you hear me?" he choked out, more tears flowing now. He swallowed roughly as he dragged in a shaky breath. "I'm the one who's sorry, it's all my fault. I shoulda listened to you, you told me so many fuckin' times and I ignored you. I swear, I'm never gonna forgive myself." He squeezed his eyes shut and held you tighter against him.

"It's not your fault, it's their fault," you said, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. "You were just trying to keep us safe; you didn't know."

He bit the inside of his cheek, overwhelmed with your kindness, to not place the blame on him. He would still blame himself, but it eased his mind to hear you say it anyway. He held you against him until your cries turned to sniffles. Then your fist relaxed, releasing his flannel from your grasp, and ran your hand under the collar of his shirt to rest your palm against his bare shoulder, his skin hot under your touch. He felt a shiver go down his spine, even under the warmth of the sun.

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, but the sun had shifted to where it was blinding you through the leaves of the trees, so you removed your hand from inside his shirt and lifted your head up to look at him. His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were dried with tears as you watched the sun dance over his face. You took in his features like you were seeing them for the first time. The small wrinkles next to his closed eyes, his angular nose, his patchy beard that needed to be trimmed, and lastly you let your eyes settle on his parted lips.

You glanced back up to confirm his eyes were still shut. You knew he wasn't sleeping because you felt him mindlessly rubbing a hand across your back. You took a shaky breath and leaned forward, gently pressing your lips against his. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but his eyes remained closed as he reciprocated your kiss, letting you set the pace. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek, pulling back a moment before gingerly pushing your lips back against his once more. You sighed as you broke away, resting your foreheads together.

"What can I do?" he asked you, "I need to do somethin'. I wanna help you."

"There is one thing," you told him, leaning back so you could look at him, your fingers intertwining with his on his lap. He sat up straighter, giving you his full attention.

"Name it, I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly.

"Find me a home, Joel," your fingers gently traced over his as you stared into his deep, brown eyes. "I want a new life. I just want to be with you."

He smiled when he heard you echo his words back to him and reached a hand out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"You got it, sweetheart."

That night, Joel gave you your space as usual in the small bed. He was on the verge of sleep when he felt your hand spreading over his chest and your face nestling in his shoulder. His heart hammered in his chest so hard, you could probably feel it. He wasn't sure if you would ever be the same again, or if your relationship would ever be the same, but he was ok with that. If you found a shred of peace by his side, then he would stay right there until his dying day.

September 2004

You had been traveling for almost three weeks, the crisp fall air biting at your cheeks. You weren't exactly sure what the date was anymore, but you had to guess it was the end of September by now, based on how early it got dark and the leaves piling up on the ground. You were in a very small town called Daniel, Wyoming. You walked down Main Street with Joel, eyeing up the buildings. It was quiet, most likely abandoned, and you hadn't heard any indication of infected nearby, so you held your bow loosely at your side as you read the signs outside the buildings. You both zeroed in on a trading store next to the post office, hoping it wasn't picked over and you could restock some of your supplies. You had gotten lucky over the past few weeks, killing rabbits and squirrels as your primary source of food and finding a few cans or dry goods here and there. The journey hadn't been too bad, but Joel was eager to get to Yellowstone and find you a home. He wanted to have enough time to stock up the cabin or house you picked with supplies before it got too cold.

Joel confirmed the store was clear and ushered you inside. It was warm, and you welcomed the break from the wind. Joel went to the clothing section to look over winter clothes and accessories you would need while you went to see what food was left behind. You were stuffing your backpack full of any food you could fit when your eyes landed on a red can. You flicked your gaze back to Joel, who was engrossed with picking out a flannel that looked exactly like the one he was wearing, but newer. You reached back onto the shelf and pulled out two cans of Beefaroni, shoving them deep down in your pack so he wouldn't see them.

As you were finishing up, Joel walked up behind you holding up a few long sleeve women's thermal tops.

"Whaddya think?" he asked, holding them up. You nodded, taking all three from his hands and then glanced down at your overfilled pack.

"Can you carry them for me? Mine's full." You held them back out to him, and he carefully folded them up and put them in his backpack. He jutted his chin towards your pack.

"Find anything good?" he asked as he shouldered his bag and picked up his rifle.

"Yep," was all you said, but he caught the corner of your mouth turn up right before you bent over to pick up your things. He looked at you curiously with his eyebrows pinched, a small smile playing on his lips. "What?" you asked him innocently.

"Nothin'," he said, turning back around to survey the store. "Do we need anythin' else before we head out? We got a few more hours of daylight, I'd like to make the most of it."

"I think we should be good til we get there," you told him, following him out of the store. "What did you think, another week or so?"

"Yeah, give or take. It's a big park, there's lots of areas to explore. Once we get there, we can take our time pickin' a spot, settle in, and stock up for the winter." He opened his map as you made your way down the street. "I reckon we can follow the 191 the whole way," he pointed down the street where you could see a T in the road. "That should be it right there."

You walked until the sun began to dip below the trees. Joel was building a fire and grumbling about shorter days and less time to cover ground while you were rolling out your sleeping bags. He picked up his rifle and stood to head out into the woods. You noticed ever since your breakthrough with him, he was feeling more confident about leaving you alone, as long as you were comfortable with it. And he always asked. Every time. Today was no exception.

"I'll go out and see if I can find us a rabbit or somethin', they'll probably be out now that it's dusk. You wanna come with or do you wanna hang back?" He had his rifle slung over his shoulder and he looked down at you with warmth in his eyes. It was funny, it's only been a year, but if your coworkers saw him how he was now, they would never believe it. But you knew he reserved this side of himself just for you. You remember seeing his darker side before, most prominently when he confronted Keith after your assault. At the time, it scared you how quickly he was able to flip that switch. But now you understood there was nothing to fear when it came to him. At least, you didn't have anything to fear.

"Why don't you skip hunting today, I have a surprise for you," you said, the corners of your mouth turning up into a smile. You were slowly starting to smile more again, and every single time it made him grin. He immediately slid his rifle off his shoulder and laid it on the ground, sitting down on top of his sleeping bag next to you.

"Well, how could I say 'no' to that," he teased. He dusted his hands on the sides of his jeans and looked at you expectantly. You turned to rummage in your pack, taking you a minute to find the cans you shoved all the way to the bottom. You pulled them out and hid them behind your back.

"Pick a hand," you said, and his eyes bounced back and forth between your shoulders as he decided, the light from the fire making them sparkle. Finally, he reached out and pointed to your right hand. He was still very careful about touching you, only ever doing so after you’d initiated contact. You took your hand out from behind your back and handed him the can of Beefaroni.

"Happy Birthday," you said as his face shone with excitement, his eyebrows raised high, and his jaw hung open. He reached out and cradled it like it was gold before looking back up to you.

"How do you know if it's my birthday?" he asked, and you shrugged.

"I guessed. It's gotta be around now, right? Do you like it?" You looked at him eagerly as he turned the can over in his hands.

"Well, that depends. What's in the other hand?"

You immediately brought your left hand around to hand him the second can, and he jokingly clutched his chest and fell backwards, his hand catching himself at the last minute, then pushed himself back up. You giggled, and his eyes shot up to yours, trying to hide his shock. That was definitely the first time you laughed since your assault. Warmth spread across his chest at the sound, and he looked down at the two cans in his hand.

"I never got you anythin' for your birthday," he said, still looking down with a smile. You waved him off.

"You're getting me a home, that's all I want," you told him, scrounging in your bag to find a can of chicken you tucked away for yourself.

You ate in front of the fire in a comfortable silence, watching the fireflies and listening to the insects chirp around you. He finished his can and set it down by the fire, leaning back a bit to fish the keychain out of his pocket.

"Beefaroni was a great gift, sweetheart, but this one is still hard to top," and he dangled the keychain in front of you. You were about to take a bite of food when your hand froze in midair. You looked from the keychain, to Joel, then back again before putting the fork down.

"Can I see?" you asked, and he placed the keychain in your palm. You could tell the chrome edge was worn from being rubbed in his pocket, but the Texas flag was still just as bright. You handed it back to him with a smile.

"I keep forgetting you have that," you admitted, your fingers fidgeting in your lap. He tucked it back into his pocket.

"I always got it on me," he told you. You looked at each other in the glow of the fire until you bit your lip and looked away. Joel never pressured you to be physical after your assault. He didn't even flirt the way he used to. The best he would do was tease you a little. He left all of that up to you, and he was incredibly patient. You only kissed him twice since that afternoon in the forest, and they were both very brief. Even then, he never attempted to deepen the kiss, giving you complete control. You wanted that part of your relationship back, but you were scared what it would be like, or if you were ready.

You looked back over at him. He was staring into the fire now, his legs stretched out and leaning back on his hands. You swallowed, then inched over to him, tucking your head into his shoulder. He shifted so his weight was all on one hand, and he picked up the other to wrap around your hips, his palm flat against the top of your thigh. You turned your face up to look at his, and when he glanced down back at you, you leaned up to press your lips against his mouth. He kept his hands where they were and gently massaged his lips on yours, still not looking to take anything further. Your heart swelled at his patience and restraint, overwhelmed by his sweetness. Before you had a chance to overthink it, you delicately licked at his lips, wanting to deepen the kiss. You felt his hesitation before gently opening his lips, letting you be the one to explore. You nervously ran your tongue up and down his, moving much slower than either of you ever had in the past. All of your memories came flooding back of better times, and you realized just how much you missed being this close to him. You applied more pressure as his hand came up to cradle your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek as you swirled your tongue around his with more confidence. His hand was getting sore holding himself up, so he cupped your jaw with both hands while he eased himself back. He was lying flat on the ground now with you next to him, your upper body resting on top of his chest, your tongue never leaving his mouth. You felt the heat from the fire on your back as you pulled back to catch your breath, leaving a slow trail of kisses along his jaw. His fingers gently raked up and down your back, his adrenaline catching up with him now. He was trying so hard to hold back, to let you take it as far as you wanted. His eyes fluttered closed as you peppered kisses down his throat. You were finding it difficult to reach his neck from your angle, so without thinking, you swung your leg over his hips, your mouth continuing its trail.

You should have gone slower, you should have thought it through more. The way you were situated on him now left your core directly over his growing erection. You didn't even realize it until you shifted your weight back on your hips, pressing yourself on him and feeling his hardening cock, and he groaned softly. Your mind didn't even catch up with your body before you found yourself scrambling backwards off his lap, back to the safety of your sleeping bag. He sat up with a jolt, his eyes filled with concern.

"What'd I do?" he asked, looking you over as if he could find something physically wrong. You shook your head, trying to rid your mind of the man who forcibly pressed your hand against his erection, rubbing your wrist subconsciously. Your chest felt tight as you gasped for air. You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.

"Nothing, you didn't do anything," you gasped. "It was me. I thought I was ready, I thought... I'm so sorry, Joel." Your face crumpled, tucking your knees into your chest. You tried to hide your face in your shoulder, but he reached out and hooked a finger under your chin, dragging your eyes up to meet his.

"You got nothin' to be sorry for, it's ok," he said softly, and you sniffled. "Don't cry, I promise it's ok," his thumb wiped a tear from your cheek as he gazed down at you. Your breathing was returning to normal, and your chest felt looser. You sighed and leaned into his touch.

"Why don't we get some sleep?" He asked, trying to change the subject. "I wanna take advantage of as much daylight as possible. Sooner we get there, the better, yeah?" You nodded and rubbed your nose on the back of your hand.

You waited until he got settled in his sleeping bag before tentatively reaching an arm over to drape across his chest. His eyes were closed but you saw him smile, and his hand came up to hold yours, bringing it up to his lips to plant a kiss on the inside of your wrist.

"You alright?" he whispered, turning his head to look at you now. You nodded.

"I will be," you said.

Over the next two days, Joel had you up at the crack of dawn to get started on your journey. The days were getting chillier, but the sun provided some warmth as you moved through the mountains. You were taking a small break, sitting on a guardrail eating while Joel examined his worn-out map, his eyes squinting at the paper. You poked him in the shoulder, startling him.

“You need glasses, old man?” you teased, and he couldn’t keep the smirk from his face. He shook his head at you before focusing back down on the map.

“I’m 37, not 77,” he muttered. You smiled as you looked up and down the highway, seeing nothing but a few abandoned cars, but then some rustling in the trees lining the road grabbed your attention. Joel held out his hand for your bow, hoping to snag a rabbit. You pressed it into his hand, and he grabbed an arrow from your backpack, loading it up and taking aim at the dense forest, waiting for the animal to show itself. But the animal that appeared was far bigger than a rabbit.

You blinked rapidly a few times, unable to process seeing a horse standing just 20 feet in front of you. Then, four more horses appeared through the trees, standing and staring at you. You assumed because you hadn’t seen a horse in so long that it took you an extra minute to realize there were riders on their backs. The people had their faces partially covered with bandanas and had their guns aimed directly at you.

“Drop the bow,” a woman’s voice said, taking you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’ve ever seen a female raider before.

Joel lowered the bow carefully, never taking his eyes off the woman in front who was clearly their leader. With the bow no longer obscuring his face, he held his hands up and jutted his chin out, sidestepping so he could block you with his body.

“Whaddya want?” he asked her roughly, his scowl returning. Before she could respond, another voice piped up from beside her.

“Joel?!”

His eyes swung to the man on the horse next to the woman as he yanked his bandana down, revealing his face for the first time. You gasped, then you both spoke in unison.

“Tommy?”

Chapter Eighteen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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ominous-auburn-orbs · 6 months

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I finally actually finished a fic holy moly. I don't have an ao3 account and that place scares me, so here ya go. (Fic under the cut)

It had been quite a long day at the circus. All of the monkey barrels had spilled, causing the monkeys inside to go. Absolutely. Everywhere.

This wasn't even a planned adventure, so Caine had to help as well. Unfortunately, even he was restricted by the need to find the monkeys in order to put them away. It had taken everyone a lot of digital hours, and while they were mostly harmless, the monkeys were very annoying.

For once, Caine thought he was actually feeling tired. Impossible, really, but maybe it was these humans continuing to rub off on him. Speaking of them, the other circus performers had retired to their rooms, likely to at least pretend to sleep. They didn't need it, but recreating pieces of their old 24 hour routine did help keep them just a bit more sane.

It was a good opportunity for Caine to experiment with something. He had heard about it from Jax and Zooble, who were having a proper conversation for once rather than just cursing each other out. They were talking about the few joys they could remember, and one of them was something called alcohol. Caine did his own research, as it would be good to incorporate this thing if his performers missed it so, but found alcohol to be not as family friendly as he would like. However, that didn't stop him from being curious. He was essentially a digital god, anyway, so the effects couldn't be too bad, right?

With a final scan of the room, Caine summoned a bottle of wine. It was apparently one of the more popular kinds. He just hoped he'd transferred it well enough into the digital plane for it to not have changed, save for its low poly appearance. Just as he opened the bottle, Bubble appeared.

"Hey there, Caine! Whatcha-" Caine wasted no time in popping them. He felt almost ashamed of what he was doing. It's not like he was doing anything inherently wrong, per se, but he did know it wasn't something he was programmed for, as self-indulgence rarely was.

Still, none of the other performers were involved, so it's not like anyone could somehow get hurt. He'd be fine, anyway. No harm done.

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Harm may have been done. Caine had drank the entire bottle. He could feel something in his mind changing earlier on, like his thoughts were turning to liquid, but he had pushed through regardless. The result could've been amusing.

He was floating through the hallway of doors, although he could barely stay in the air. He'd already hit the walls a few times. It was a miracle none of the others had checked what the noise was about. Caine was sure he was looking for something. He'd had it just a moment ago...

His memory returned once he laid his eyes upon his target: Kinger's room.

He hadn't wanted anyone to get involved, but his suddenly heightened desire to see Kinger overpowered that. He raised his hand and knocked on the door in a continuous tempo until he heard a response. Well, it admittedly took a few responses.

"Umm, hello? Who is it?" Kinger's voice sparked a feeling of joy in Caine's chest.

"Heeyyyy, Kinger! It'sss me, Cainne! Can- can I ccome in?"

There was the slight ruffling of pillows before the door opened a crack, revealing a fragment of the chess piece's face, which quickly relaxed upon seeing Caine.

"Oh good, it's just you." Kinger opened the door further, observing the ringmaster's spaced-out expression and wobbling movements. "You don't look too well. Is everything alright?"

He moved out of the way and gestured for Caine to enter, closing the door behind him.

"Weelll, I may have- uh, Jax and Zooooble were- it's reeaalllyy not that bad-" Caine's very limited concentration finally gave up on him completely, causing him to stop flying and land on Kinger, who narrowly avoided being knocked to the floor by the impact. He instinctively held onto Caine in an attempt to keep him safe, although he did hold on for a bit longer than necessary before setting the ringmaster on his feet.

"Caine, are you-" The idea sounded ridiculous, seemingly impossible, and yet, "are you drunk?"

"Oh, u-uh... heheh, lllooks like you got mee!" Caine broke out into a fit of drunken giggles, with Kinger having to keep his hands firmly on his shoulders to keep him upright. The chess piece decided against scolding Caine or asking the abundance of questions he had, instead channeling that energy into a sigh that prefaced his gentle tone.

"I remember a bit of what being drunk was like. I can help you." He crouched down to Caine's level, keeping eye contact. "Do you need to throw up?"

"I don't think- think I can... nnooo?" He was purposefully leaning towards Kinger, attempting to regain that moment of contact they had had. He recognised the yearning it caused in his chest, something Kinger often started. He knew he wanted more of it. More of Kinger.

"Alright. Uh, can you summon some water? Drinking it usually helps. Just don't do it too fast, okay?"

Caine blindly followed the command, slowly downing a glass of water, his balance returning somewhat. He placed the empty glass in his hat, making it disappear to God knows where. It earnt him a gentle pet on the head from Kinger, drawing some more giggles from him.

"Good job. How about you come into my fortress? You can sleep it off. I-if you even can sleep, that is." He stood up to lead Caine to the pillow fort in the middle of the room, but was stopped by Caine wrapping his arms tightly around Kinger's body, burying his face in the other's coat. Heat rose in Kinger's cheeks.

"Thank youuu... you're the- nicest person, ever." The heat worsened. Was that really what he thought?

"Oh!.. Thanks, Caine. I think you're nice too." The chess piece went back to petting the other, one hand on his head and the other on his back.

They stayed like this for a while until Kinger eventually realised that Caine would not be letting go any time soon. Moving one of his hands under Caine's thighs, Kinger picked him up and carried him into the fort. He wasn't even sure if Caine noticed.

He sat down, placing Caine in his lap, face (teeth?) still buried in his coat, leaning into his chest.

"Are you feeling any better? Do you want to sleep?"

"Mhhmmm..." Caine nuzzled further into Kinger, still chasing that incredibly unique and beautiful feeling. He didn't really want to sleep yet. There was so much he still wanted to say.

"Kinger. I- I llove you." It was like Kinger's heart exploded. Yet it didn't hurt. It was magnificent. A part of him remembered this feeling, or at least something like it, but he just couldn't place where, or when...

"I love you too, Caine. Now you should really get some rest." He could hear the ringmaster's breathing even out and soften as he started to fall asleep.

"I... I wanna do the human marri- marriage ritual. With you." Kinger startled at the proposal, his face turning an ungodly shade of red.

"L-let's try not to move too fast! How do you even know about that..?" Then again, how did Caine know about alcohol? Just more questions that were unlikely to get answered.

"I'm gonna make yoouu my... husssband..." Caine's voice trailed off as he finally fell asleep. Kinger took some deep breaths to try and calm himself down. A lot had just happened, a lot that would need to be addressed with Caine when he awoke.

Kinger stared at the other's sleeping form for a moment before pressing the part of his head that his mouth would occupy to Caine's top row of teeth. Which unexpectedly resulted in a ridiculously cartoony kissing noise. Kinger was quite shocked by it, but quickly regained his composure before he accidentally woke up Caine.

Perhaps he should stop asking questions for a while.

As he started to doze off, Kinger felt content. Safe. Happy. Perhaps this place really wasn't a total nightmare after all.

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@crispybacondoesstuff YOU. *grabs you by the collar and aggressively shakes you back and forth* YOU DID THIS TO ME

Anyway I'm actually pretty proud of this, and I hope my contribution to the very small amount of royalteeth fics is enjoyed!

#the amazing digital circus #caine x kinger #kinger x caine #royalteeth #kingleader #Caine's brain just has google installed #it's how he learns

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snapscube · 1 year

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Out of curiosity, why was the Psychonauts dub cancelled?

Just lost my enthusiasm for it! There were a few reasons why. Mainly the biggest reason I keep coming back to is that, with a game as comedic and cartoony as Psychonauts, I’m not really sure what an RTF would add. The reasons why something like an Until Dawn dub works are the exact reasons why Psychonauts maybe wouldn’t. There’s no stark juxtaposition of tone to really make the improvisational humor stand out, adding silly to silly is way less interesting than adding silly to self-serious imo. But honestly, I felt this way already when going into the project and I was willing to try anyway. What ultimately put the nail in the coffin was my complete lack of vision for the logistics of it all. I tried for weeks to come up with conceptual casts, for example, and for the life of me I just could not get something that felt right. There are way too many characters, and yet still so few that have enough screen time to really build something with. As I started to push forward and record footage of the early portions of the the game it just became clearer and clearer that it was an idea I wasn’t passionate about. Psychonauts is amazing as it is, I didn’t want to do a dub just for the sake of it, and the process was becoming a bit of a dark cloud over my mind so I just dropped it and elected to move on to an idea that sparked more joy. To this day I don’t regret it! I’m at a “never say never” point with the idea of a Psychonauts dub, but tbh I have so many extremely better ideas that I would much rather focus on.

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ticklygiggles · 2 months

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The Avatar of Lust | Asmo x Reader [N$FW]

Commissioned by @intheticklecloset

A/N: kekekeke this header makes me laugh, our cute sheep is not so innocent on this fic hehehehe anyways, big thanks to the kind and supportive Nym! I hope you enjoy this. It came out longer than I expected, but I hope it's good! I'm sorry for the wait~

Summary: No little dirty secret can't escape the Avatar of Lust.

Sex with Asmo was the best. After all, he was the Avatar of Lust and he really knew what he was doing. Making love with Asmo was never boring. He always surprised you with new positions and games that sent you into a subspace of pleasure that you never wanted to leave. Asmo managed to make the most obscene and embarrassing sounds escape from your mouth and he swallowed them with hot and desperate kisses. It seemed like he had a thousand hands, one touching your intimacy, another your nipples, and another holding your jaw to keep you in place while he ate your lips in a kiss.

He was so good to you, always making sure that you were feeling the best and very loved. He simply did everything right… especially tickling you.

You giggled when he softly brushed his fingertips against the heated skin of your hips as his mouth made you see stars. A pretty moan made its way out and your hips moved forward, seeking more of his tongue and those tickles that made you cover with goosebumps.

His fingers moved higher, walking up your back and over that soft spot beneath your ribs. You giggled more, your body begging to get away from the sensation, but you desperately wanted more of it. More of that pleasure that you just couldn't share with Asmo for fear that he would think it was ridiculous, childish. Your orgasm was close, and the more Asmo tickled you and his tongue worked magic between your legs, the more stars and sparks clouded your vision. You were going to come.

“A-Asmo, I-

He chuckled, leaving your heated flesh to look at you with a cheeky smile. “You really love it when I tickle you, huh?”

That delicious orgasm that was already beginning to make your lower belly tremble suddenly stopped. Your entire body froze and your eyes widened. That terrible hot feeling of humiliation ran through your entire body. The flush spread from your face to your chest. You were a fool. An idiot. You should have been more discreet about this, but how could you? How could you act like you weren't having a great time with his hands doing your skin sparkle with the playful touch of his hands. It was what you had always wanted, and Asmo gave it to you almost daily, without reservation and with joy, and you thought, in your little pleasure-clouded mind, that he would never notice. You really were a fool.

“Hey,” Asmo said, cleaning his mouth before placing his hands against your heated cheeks. “Baby. What is wrong? Are you not feeling well?”

He lifted your face, but you so desperately avoided his eyes, not knowing what else to do.

“What is wrong? Wait, is it because I said you like being- ah, please don't cry!”

You didn't want to, but your eyes filled with tears and soon they were streaming down your red cheeks. Asmo desperately tried to wipe them up, but they came out like faucets, non-stop. You really felt ashamed, humiliated. As if you had been caught doing the most horrible crime in this world.

“My cutie, please!” Asmo whined, little tears in his eyes too. “Why are you like this? Did I say something wrong? I am so sorry! Please forgive me!” You shook your head and he gasped. “You don't forgive me?!”

That made you giggle and you shook your head again, sobbing as you hid your face against his chest. “I'm sorry, Asmo. I am so ashamed, I didn't want you to notice I got off by you tickling me, but I felt so good.”

Asmo hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong!”

You sniffed, “You'll think I'm childish.”

He laughed, “what are you saying? My love, how could I think that? I'm pretty sure you've never made a comment about all my kinks, hmm? Why would I think yours is childish?” He gently cradled your face between his hands, his thumbs lovingly brushing against your cheekbones. “I love everything about you, my lovely. Besides, isn't tickling so cute? I love listening to your laughter,” he said, kissing your nose. “Please, don't feel shy towards me, cutie. I'm here to please you, you know?”

His words tried to stop you from crying, but when you heard him you couldn't help but cry even more, hugging him tightly. He whined playfully, but hugged you back just as hard.

You were not sure how long you both lasted like this. You both were completely naked and still a little sticky with sweat and other fluids, but it didn't matter, not when he had been so kind and had accepted you so tenderly like this.

“Hey…,” he said against your ear when you had finally stopped crying. You shivered, recognizing that sultry tone of his voice. “Now that my precious creature has revealed those deep secrets, I feel a reward should be given.”

You looked up and a moan got stuck in your throat when you saw his lustful eyes on you. He looked like a predator looking at his prey, famished, mouth watering and you shuddered, feeling heat gathering in your lower tummy.

“Would you like that, baby?” Asmo grinned at you, he was his usual self, but his grin was… dangerous, you could see his fangs twinkling behind his lips and you gulped, slowly nodding your head, smiling at him.

“I'd love that.”

He giggled, “very well. Lay down, would you? We're gonna play a lot tonight.” You did as you were told, laying down comfortably on your back on his big bed. “Would you be a love and spread your legs and arms for me? Very well.”

Your heart was hammering against your chest. Was he going to… tickle you? You felt your heart dropping in an amazing way when you saw him pulling out some red robe from one of his drawers.

“Are you okay with being tied up, love?” You nodded. “We've done this before, but I want to know your limits.”

“I… want to know my limits too,” you said and Asmo’s grin widened.

“Don't say such things, love. You're gonna make me cum.” Only then, you saw he was half erect already and your ears heated up.

He giggled as he approached the bed. He gently grabbed one of your arms and pulled at it nicely before wrapping the silky robe around your wrist and then to the bedpost of his bed. He did so with your other three limbs and admired his handiwork from the end of the bed. You pulled at your arms and legs and gasped softly, feeling adrenaline, fear and excitement rushing through you when you could barely move your limbs.

“Don't hyperventilate,” he said and you notice your breath going a bit erratic. “As always, we won't do anything you don't want to do. You remember that right?” You nodded. “Great. Do you also remember your safeword?”

You nodded again. “Cupcake,” you said softly.

“Louder. Otherwise I won't hear you and won't know when to stop.”

“Cupcake.”

“That's a good baby,” he said, grinning at you for a moment before sighing loudly. “I wish you could look at you, baby,” he said, brushing his fingernails against the top of your foot and up your leg. “You always look so pretty when tied up. Your body is so seductive… I wonder where I should start.. “

You gasped, jerking when you felt his nails against your inner thigh. “A-Asmo!”

“Mhm, I am right here. You sure look eager for me to start. Poor cutie, for how long have you been dreaming of this, hmm? Did you fantasize about me tickling you until you went crazy? I'm sure you did.”

You moaned, whimpering when his nails caressed your hip and waist and side. You arched your back and giggled softly when he touched your armpit and the inside of your elbow. Your skin craved more of that maddening sensation, but you whined when he made his way back again. Just brushing your body so lightly with his nails.

“A-Asmo, plehease.”

“Please what, cutie?” You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he raised a taunting eyebrow as he tickled your knee, making you giggle. “I can't know what you want if you don't speak up.”

“You- ah! Y-You know what I wahant. Please, please, please.”

“Use your words,” Asmo said, his voice serious but the smirk on his lips was wide.

Tears were sparkling against your lashes as you looked at him, your eyes pleading. “Tickle me, please?”

He giggled, “of course, honeybunch.”

The touch of his nails on one of the soles of your feet felt electrifying. You gasped heavily before squealing and laughing wildly. His fingers skittered across your skin, up and down your foot. Asmo scratched at your arch, the ball of your foot and that horrible sensitive spot underneath your toes. Laughter was shooting out of your mouth, too fast and too loud.

“Hehe, I knew you were ticklish, but look at you go, baby,” he said over your laughter, his fingers focusing on the top of your foot, making you squeal. “And you're leaking so much already, are you enjoying yourself?”

You nodded, that was the only thing you could do besides laughing. The sensation was already overwhelming and he was only tickling one foot; chills ran through your body and, mingling with your laughter, small moans of pleasure escaped your lips. It felt incredibly good. All those sparks traveled directly between your legs and your hips moved up and down, searching for some kind of friction to ease your arousal.

Asmo giggled, “Feet are really sensitive,” he said softly. “They're a common erogenous zone, did you know? Especially the toes.” His fingers wiggled against the sensitive stems of your toes and they spread, making him laugh. “Oh, look at them, they really love their tickles huh? Then… thank you for the food.”

“Haah! Ahahahasmo!” You shrieked, feeling the warmth and dampness of his mouth in your toes. His tongue wiggled in the spaces in between, tickling you into nearly hysterics. “Thahahat tihihickles too bahahad! Plehehease, nnghh!”

Asmo hummed and you squealed when his teeth scraped against the pads of your toes. Your foot wiggled softly, but that only invited him to scratch your sole again, making you see stars.

“Asmo!” You gasped. You could feel yourself throbbing. “Ahahahsmohoho, wahahait plehehease, I thihihink- ah! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

What a wonderful release. Never in your life did you think you could ever come from tickling alone, but there you were, shaking and moaning with the force of your orgasm. You felt like your body was made of sparks, your mind was blank as you enjoyed that fabulous feeling.

“Oho? Did that feel really good, baby?” His tender voice came from the clouds around your head and you nodded softly. The tickling had stopped. “I'm sure you know one gets more sensitive after cumming right?”

Your breath hitched as you looked at him, surprised to see that he was at your other foot, a beautiful, stiff, white feather twirling between his fingers as he smiled wickedly at you.

Your mouth trembled into a wobbly smile. “A-Ahasmoho, wahait, please.”

“No waiting for you, beautiful,” he said, winking at you as the tip of the feather lightly traced down your foot.

The sensation was barely there, but your body was sensitive and you couldn't help but laugh out loud at that small, delicate touch. The feather tip zigzagged from under your toes to your heel and the squeals you let out every time it grazed a very sensitive spot made Asmo laugh.

It swirled against the arch of your foot, making you jump and giggle like crazy, “it tihihihickles!”

“Don't tell me!” he said playfully as he grazed the feather between your toes. Your laughter increased and your toes spread for him. “Do you like the feather, baby? Look at your little toes, they behave so well, right?”

“Ihihi lihihike ihihit,” you laughed, your leg jerking every time the feather would jump from between your toes.

“Me too, I want to use it somewhere else,” he declared and he finally moved from your feet, gracing the feather up your leg. Zigzagging against your shin and swirling around your knee. You giggled brightly, feeling goosebumps raise on your skin as he lightly tickled your thigh.

Now closer, you could see that Asmo was fully erect. His cock bounced with every step he took. The tip was red and he was leaking a ridiculous amount of precum.

Catching you staring at him, he chuckled and you jumped when he leaned closer to your face. “Are you seeing how you have me, beautiful creature? I am like this because of you and your beautiful laughter.”

Your heart beat wildly in your chest. You felt warmth on your cheeks and ears and smiled shyly, lifting your chin a little so you could kiss him, but Asmo pulled away with a chuckle.

“Don't try to distract me, naughty you. I'm on a mission right now,” he said and he suddenly jumped on the bed between your legs. You gasped, feeling shame as you tried to close your legs, but oh you were tied so very nicely. “Hehe, nuh-uh, you cannot hide, beautiful. Let's see now…”

“AHAHAHA! N-Nohohot the feahahahatheheher!”

“This spot is also super sensitive right? Riiight here in your groin.” The feather swept against the sensitive skin and it tickled like hell. Your hips bucked and you clenched, making Asmo whistle.

“Look at you,” he said tenderly. “My cutie is feeling so good, huh?”

“AHAHAHSMOHOHO!” You shrieked with laughter when you felt one of his hands wiggling its fingers on your other groin. You shook and your hips circled as pretty moans filled the room again.

“Yes, my lovely?” He said teasingly, leaving the feather aside so he could graze his fingernails lightly across the sensitive skin of your thighs. He scribbled the inner part and squeezed the top of them gently, making you jump and squeal embarrassingly loud. “Where does it tickle more, beautiful? Here?” He asked, drawing hearts all over your upper thighs. “Or here?” A shriek made its way out as he found your groin again. “Ah, so it's here right?”

“PLEHEHEASE!”

“You really like it when I lightly tickle you here, huh? Look how wet you are. Didn't you just cum?” He chuckled. “Could it be that you want to cum again?”

“Nnghh- ahahahsmohoho. B-Bahahaby plehease, I- WAIT! NGHH!”

Your eyes crossed as you felt Asmo's tongue pressing against your hot, throbbing skin. He took you into his mouth with ease while his hands continued to tickle your crotch. The touch of his tongue felt ticklish against your oversensitive skin, so you couldn't help but laugh harder as your hips bucked up and down against his mouth.

“Ahahahasmo plehehease! P-Plehehehase dohohon't! I'm gohohonna cuhuhum agahahain, I'm gohohonna- aaangh!”

There you were, cumming hard in his mouth. You thought you were going to faint, because your vision became cloudy and you saw stars, the shiver of pleasure running through your body almost felt like too much. Your body trembled non-stop with the aftershocks of your orgasm while Asmo continued licking and sucking your intimacy, wanting to squeeze every last drop of your pleasure.

“Haaah,” He sighed in delight as he lifted his face from between your legs, one of his hands wiping his mouth and chin. His eyes were darkened with lust and you moaned at seeing him. “That was nice, huh? Let's move on, then.”

“AAAHAHAHA! WAHAHAIT! Wahahahait, plehehehease!”

Without even letting you rest for a second, his agile and gentle hands found your hips and you exploded in cackles as he pinched your poor hip bones. Your hips rolled and bucked, trying to remove his hands, but he didn't even flinch, following your every move with ease.

“Asmo! AHAHASMO, plehehease! PLEHEHEASE!”

You barely heard Asmo's chuckle, but at no time did he stop his attack on your hips. At some point, you lost track of time; you felt like he had been tickling you there for hours, days even. And it kept feeling so ticklish and your laughter only seemed to increase in volume and hysteria.

“You surely are laughing a lot,” Asmo said, his hands being replaced by the soft feather tracing your hips, making you giggle hysterically. “And enjoying yourself so much, I can tell. You haven't even safeworded! These hips sure are sensitive, poor them~”

Tears of laughter were streaming down your face. You felt a little shy, feeling some drool dripping from the side of your mouth, but you really couldn't control your actions when you were laughing as hard as that. It felt nice to not completely care as you enjoyed something you thought you would never enjoy. Asmo really was so good to you.

“Are you still up for some more fun, baby?” You nodded, giggling as he circled your belly button with the feather. Asmo chuckled. “You truly wanted this, huh? I can't believe you didn't tell me before. I could've tickled you a million times already!”

“I'm sohohorry.”

Asmo pouted, “I think this silly baby needs to be punished,” he said with a grin as his fingers started to wiggle against your tummy, clawing at the soft sides and you threw your head back with laughter.

No matter where his fingers found your skin, it felt too ticklish and you thought maybe Asmo was using some spell to make you more sensitive to his touch? You didn't remember being so ticklish when you had tickle fights with him or his brothers- he was probably using a little of his magic. Well, it wasn't like you were going to stop him anyway.

Your lower belly, your navel, the sides of your tummy, the center; his hands were everywhere and he had you howling with laughter in mere seconds, your limbs pulling at their restraints, but it was all useless. Your laughter was becoming a little hoarse as he continued his exploration – his thumbs digging into your waist making you jump and scream with laughter. His fingers vibrating against your ribs and the spaces between them made your voice go silent for a few seconds, but Asmo only laughed softly and continued.He counted each of your ribs over and over again, from top to bottom and bottom to top.

“Please stop moving, cutie. I keep losing count of your cute ribs.”

“Baby, I gotta make sure you didn't break one when you were play fighting with Mammon, that brute can be a lot sometimes.”

“Huh, you get more hysterical the higher the ribs are, could it be that one is hurt? Don't worry, I'll check thoroughly!”

It was driving you crazy. The sensations short-circuiting your brain barely allowed you to think about anything other than how ticklish you felt at that moment. Asmo's voice teasing you and telling you how beautiful you looked made no sense over your loud cackling, but the best was yet to come.

Asmo laughed as he stopped to let you rest for a second. "You really... no matter what I do, you don't even ask me to stop, huh? How can you be so adorable?" You jumped with a laugh as his nails traced that rib that almost made you faint. “But baby,” he said, pouting. “I’m all horny now because of you.”

Raising your head, you felt bad at seeing the poor and sorry state of his cock. The red color actually contrasted very well with Asmo's skin, but that... he looked like he was about to burst! You blinked, looking at his poor dick and then at his teary eyes.

You smirked at him. “Well… who said you couldn't use that?”

You bucked your hips and his cheeks flushed red and a wide smile spread across his lips. Two heavy moans filled the room as he finally thrusted inside of you, filling you to the brim. Asmo had to stop a couple of times to avoid coming so soon, and the fact that he didn't move was torture for you. You whined, desperately moving your hips, but he held them down, stopping you.

“C-Calm down, dove,” he breathed through gritted teeth. “I don't want to cum yet.”

“I do want to cum,” you whined again and he laughed softly, lifting his face to look at you. You were breathless for a moment.

Asmo's face was truly a work of art. His eyes were always bright and flirtatious, sparkling with mischief, but right at that moment, they were darkened with lust. That playful spark was clouded by desire and pleasure. A heavy blush spread across his face and his mouth was slightly open, his tongue poking out a little, licking his lips.

Asmo moaned, (he was never afraid to voice his pleasure), and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Why are you clenching me so suddenly, hmm? Did you like my face so much?”

“T-Tickle me more, please,” you begged, arching your back. “Tickle me a bit- a bit more, yes?”

“Of course I will tickle you more, beautiful,” he promised, his hips finally touching your skin as he put his whole length inside you. “You just need to be good and have a bit of patience,” you whined, squirming and huffing as he stimulated you from inside.

Asmo held your hips firmly and you were startled when your legs were suddenly free from the rope. You quickly wrapped them around him and brought him impossibly closer to you.

“Very nice, baby. Not too tight, though, otherwise I won't be able to move.” Your legs loosened a bit. “If you push me away, I will stop completely, do you hear me?”

You frowned, not understanding what he was saying, but soon found out when you felt his moist lips placing a wet kiss against your underarm. You gasped heavily, jerking away from his touch, only to find one of his hands already latched to your other armpit, fingers quickly scribbling against the taut skin.

Laughter quickly escaped you and you started to squirm, but no matter what side you jerked to, Asmo was there, tickling you. He started nibbling and blowing raspberries against one of your armpits as the other was under an evil attack of fingertips digging, wiggling and vibrating, waking up all of the nerve endings there.

“AHAHAHASMO,” you shrieked, shaking your head. “Nohohoho nihihihibbling!” You pleaded, snorting as he did the opposite and nibbled you more and faster.

“I do what I want, baby. Now…”

“NGH!”

Oh how wonderful his length felt inside you. He moved his hips away, his cock rubbing all the sensitive spots inside you, and then he let himself go back, pounding hard against you, hitting that spot that made your eyes roll back into your head. His hands and mouth didn't stop making you laugh and his hips went back and forth with a rhythm that was leaving you breathless. You jumped with a shriek of laughter as his free hand found that terribly ticklish spot right behind your ribs. Your back arched involuntarily and that only resulted in more tickling in both of your armpits.

You were going crazy. Too many sensations at the same time, you felt like you were going to explode. You couldn't stop laughing even for a second, and your moans became louder and more frequent. His mouth, his hands, his cock were all on you; you were short of breath, your body was tired and your stomach hurt from laughing so much, but you didn't want Asmo to ever stop. You wanted to continue feeling everything, your mind filled with your laughter and moans.

“I'M CUHUHUMMING!” You said, sobbing as uncontrollable laughter made you shake. “PLEHEHEASE, AHAHASMO!”

He grunted, pounding inside you over and over and over until you finally cummed. Your vision became blurry and you sobbed as you felt overwhelmed with the force of your orgasm. It almost hurt as you felt the tickles of pleasure run through your body. You felt outside yourself, in a subspace of pleasure that you couldn't escape, and the only thing that could bring you back were those terrible, maddening tickles in your armpits and ribs.

The sound that came out of your mouth no longer sounded like laughter to you, like when you repeat a word too many times and it loses its meaning, your laughter or the sound that came from your mouth no longer made sense. The only constant thing was those tickles and the pleasure of continuing to feel Asmo pounding inside as he finally came.

His hands finally stopped as he shook with the force of his orgasm. Your body went limp under him as he thrusted inside you a couple of times more, riding his climax as much as he could. At that moment you were nothing more than his toy and that thought made you clench against his sensitive cock, causing him to moan harder against your ear.

Your breathing and his were erratic and neither of you said anything for a long moment until his fingers grazed your sides and you whimpered, shivering and squirming.

“Baby,” he sighed in your ear, you hummed weakly in response. “What is your safeword?”

Your eyes felt heavy, you barely could remember your name, but your safeword was there, in the back of your mind, tucked away in a locked drawer. You hummed, moving your head to the side so you could speak in his ear as well.

“Cupcake,” you answered, your voice hoarse.

Asmo nodded, “very well,” he said, lifting his face to look at you. “Make sure not to forget it, baby, I want to cum again.”

You smiled, more of that awful sound suddenly escaping your lips again. You didn't want this to ever end. If your circle of hell was going to be like this, you figured it wouldn't be so bad, as long as Asmo was there with you too.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #asmo #Asmodeus #asmo obey me #asmo x reader #ticklish!Reader #n$fw #spicy #tickle fic #mia's things #commissions

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liyawritesss · 11 months

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ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴇɪᴠᴏʀ ᴠᴀʀɪɴꜱᴅᴏᴛᴛɪʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: Eivor Varinsdottir(Female Data String) x Black!Fem!Reader

From: Assassin's Creed: Valhalla

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: When the Jarlskona of Raventhorpe sets her eyes upon you, there is virtually nothing you can do to sway her affection. What would a courtship with Eivor Wolf-Kissed entail?

Warnings: fem!data stream!eivor, cursing, game-canon violence, mentions of injuries and wound dressing

A/N: Started playing AC: Valhalla and honestly? Ubisoft don’t miss when it comes to this franchise. It’s been out for a bit now and it seems to be a bit dry out there, so allow me to feed the blk eivor lovers out there

Tags: @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @niyahwrites

First and foremost, Eivor is an intense lover. There are no if, ands or buts about that. She’s lost everything and worked to regain it all back; her honor, her respect; and if she chooses you to be her lady, then best believe it was a choice made precisely.

You joined Ravensthorpe via trade - you were a fine seamstress looking for a settlement to call home. As you had a skill that could benefit yourself and the settlement, Eivor allowed your transition into the camp. She was impressed by your craftsmanship and with another winter closing in, the town would need all the best weaving and sewing it could get to brace for it.

After your first initial meeting, there were only fleeting moments of which the two of you would greet each other and talk. You were a joy to be around, always sporting a simple smile and engaging in Eivor’s jokes and combatting her sarcasm with your own. You were one of few people who could keep up with her and it sparked a friendship between the two of you.

Though you’d always had an eye for the jarlskona since your arrival - and honestly, who could blame you; the woman was large and brooding, carrying an air of mystery and absolute dominance while simultaneously being a comfort to you - there was a level of hierarchy that had to be maintained. Yes, she was attractive, but she was also your leader.

This is definitely a situation where one person falls first and the other falls harder. And while both of you are good at hiding your feelings (or maybe it’s just both of you are oblivious to the other’s affections), there was no denying that something was there.

Eivor’s realization of her affections comes when she receives her cloak back from you. She had asked you to repair it, as someone had ripped it pretty badly during a raid, because it was her favorite and she never left the settlement without it. It’s through Valka that you learn that the cloak is the last thing she has of her mother who was killed right in front of her when she was young. And while there was very little left of the original cloak to work with, you came up with a brilliant idea that you prayed wouldn’t end in her yelling at you for it.

You’d been wanting to make her a new one anyway, and with the torn one being the right shade of light brown you needed, you decided to use it on the hem and edges of the cloak, thickening it so that the frigid winter air wouldn’t make it through as easily. A wolf pelt was also sewn as the collar for the cloak, and hidden underneath it was a regular hood for when the cold was too much to bear in the face.

It was a fairly simple design, really, fortified by an extra layer of cloth for the cold, but to Eivor, it meant everything. When you handed it to her, she took her time analyzing your handiwork, tracing the edges and the hem of the cloak where it would meet at her chest, remembering the times her mother would hug her from behind in the same manner. Enveloping her in warmth, protecting her from harm.

There was a thudding in her chest that wouldn’t quiet until she returned to the longhouse. It was heavy and loud and unlike any emotion she had ever felt before. It couldn't be compared to the feeling of near-death, nor the ignorant bliss that came from downing endless horns of ale. She wished she could have figured it out on her own what the heaviness in her chest meant whenever she looked at you, but it took Randvi, her brother’s widow, to tell Eivor that she liked you more as just a friend. Whether she wanted to pursue something further than that, however, would be something she had to figure out alone.

In the weeks approaching winter you’d actually been working with Valka in learning skills to be a healer. She’d predicted that this winter would be bad with a lot of sickness, injuries, and deaths. Unfortunately, she was correct. Her cabin became overrun with injured raiders, and of course, Eivor was amongst the ranks.

Valka suggested that since Eivor had some pretty severe injuries (not to mention a history of hallucinations and visions she’d informed you on), that Eivor should be taken care of by you in the longhouse. It took a little bit of convincing of both you and Eivor (though once the healing salve had been applied to her injuries and she’d drunk a brew Valka made, Eivor couldn't put up much of a fight while she was asleep), but nevertheless, you’d started taking care of Eivor in the comfort of her room. To this day, you aren’t sure if she knew what she was doing when she suggested this arrangement, but you’ve always had your suspicions. They don’t call a wise woman wise for nothing.

Weeks went by and Eivor was making a steady recovery, having regained much of her strength and was able to move around on her own now. SO you started coming around less often, which saddened her. One night, while you were cleaning and redressing her nasty shoulder wound, she pointed out the exhaustion that plagued your face and asked you if it would make things easier if you spent the night, and to be truthful in your response.

You admitted that it would be easier, but you had no sleeping clothes and you would have had to travel across the settlement to get them anyway. Eivor offered up one of her shirts a bit too eagerly, though quickly covered it up with an ‘it’s what friends do’, which was a painful statement to say because after being taken care of a dotted on by you for the past few weeks, it became increasingly clear for her that she wanted more than just friendship.

She still doesn’t know what officially solidified it for her, but the moment she sees you in her linen shirt, a particularly large one that hung slightly off shoulder and created a pretty contrast against your dark skin, glowing against the candlelight that flickers throughout the room, she makes up her mind that she will ask you to be hers before the night is over with.

Eivor is no stranger to having to be quick-witted in timely situations, and this is no different. She formulates how she will pose the question to you, shuffling through different starting points, trying to also hold a steady resolve so that she can actually get to the question and not chicken out when things get hot.

Which is exactly what almost happens when you ask to take down her braids that she’s had in for god knows how long, too fixated on healing to really notice her hair needed attention as well. And when she’s met with your hands in her hair, it takes every fiber of her vikingr being to not lose focus.

You’re standing in front of her while she sits on the edge of the bed. You’re rebraiding the two side pieces she normally has in, and there’s talk of the events that happened in your day while you were out before you came to check in on her. You end up moving a certain way that causes you to lose your balance, you almost fall on top of her but she catches you before you do. A crisis averted…

…and yet her hands dont leave your hips. Eivor tries to pull them away, she really does, but she can’t help that they feel right being on your sides. And when you lock eyes the intensity of the atmosphere and in your stares all but thickens, and suddenly Eivor is at a loss of any words she thought she was gonna speak.

Eivor is a skilled warrior, hardened on the battlefield, mind sharpened from years of training and discipline, but it’s the slightest nudge you give her when you lean forward, when you’re looking down at her with your pretty eyes and full lips slightly parted, when you seemingly melt into her hands - its then that every resolve she has falls through the cracks, and she pulls you onto her lap, and kisses you through the searing pain that courses through her shoulder when she encourages you to straddle her.

Eivor is an intense lover. She does properly ask to court you, after catching her breath from the mindblowing kiss she’d stolen from you, and from then on, there’s not a doubt in anyone's mind who has the jarlskona’s favor. She prides herself in having you as her Lady, wanting to spoil you with the riches at her disposal but understands if being dressed up isn’t you’re cup of tea. She grants you the same respect that is expected to be given to her - you are her equal, and she will love you with everything she has until Odin calls her to Valhalla.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

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techtainia-makes-things · 7 months

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