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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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no because why was I listening to futures song called rich sex and thought maybe I could request you to make a sex scene for the influencer wife x rapper Eren cause it just…goes so well with the song , cause like…imagine Eren was on tour right? And y/n is with him too , don’t you think it’ll be a GOOD ASS SMUT if they fuck WHILEEEE on tour? And then Eren is dressed up all in his expensive jewelry such as y/n and then he decides to fuck y/n for a lil adrenaline rush to hype him up before he gets on stage. So don’t you think that would be A GOOD ASS SMUT cause I think so too.

Oh. My. Goddddd!! This is perfect likeee, your mind. I’m biting my fist so hard thinking about this. 😩 say less, I got you bby!

(btw, I hope y’all ain’t sick of this storyline yet cause it’s fr my fucking fave and the only thing I’ll be talking about for the next week!)

“Baby, let's go have rich sex”

themes: riding, 69, choking, mentions of drinking and smoking, exhibitionism (if you squint), mirror sex, collapsed back shots, they just be fucking nasty fr so anything goes

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

another day, another dollar as the saying goes but it was another night, another city down in the instance of the international recording artist…going from state to state, pouring his heart out on the stage in the form of his wonderful music. Although it had been some time, he still had it like he never left and the proof was in the form of not only his massive ticket sales but all of the tweets and tagged pictures, praising the rapper for his performance and love of his fans.

now, he was on his tour bus..headed to the next location on the docket of his North American leg. Surrounded by his crew, band and of course, the love of his life, (y/n) (l/n); having not too long ago celebrated the joyous occasion with those he cherished most as they all raised champagne glasses for a toast to Eren.

now the musician could be found in the luxurious master bedroom of the bus..lying atop the California King, shrouded in blue silk Versace bed linen, which was discreetly embroidered with the designer logo and his initials on the other side. A black robe from the same maker swaddling his freshly showered body..

mindless background noise could be heard playing from a fifty inch flatscreen mounted on the wall. Currently, he was blowing clouds of smoke into the air from the spliff placed between his lips..using it to ironically come down from the high of the evening. It was always his ritual of sorts to decompress after being on stage. A time of quiet reflection except now…

“You mind if I join you?..”

he had much to look forward to afterwards. That sweet, sexy voice he’d never grow tired of hearing, perking him straight up from his position. He’d be greeted by the pleasant surprise of his beloved bride-to-be, taking off your robe and standing at the foot of the bed in all white lace lingerie..contrasting that almost ethereal umber complexion. Like the smoothest Godiva and his biggest weakness, among other things..

those pretty ass titties sitting up perfectly in that bralette and cascading down your back were the forty inches of Brazilian bundles; black with honey blonde highlights at the very front. Those baby hairs styled and laid to perfection.

you truly were a goddess in the flesh.

“..and I was just wondering where your pretty ass was..c’mere, baby.”

the sentence followed by a wave of his finger, signaling you to climb on top of him. And with that deep, drowsy..sexy voice, you wouldn’t waste another second doing so. Immediately gliding a hand up his chiseled, tattooed chest and targeting his neck with gentle kisses;

flicking around his ear and hitting those giant studs in them. Your soft lips slightly brushing the diamonds of the customized ‘EJ’ chain, courtesy of famed jeweler Johnny Dang. A piece he acquired after the success of his very first album..a good luck charm of sorts, worth over ten bands..

but the collection didn’t stop there. A Patek scattered with VVS’ that could pay someone’s car note, grazed your bare ass as he gripped it with both hands amidst your make-out session.

(Y/N) slowly grounded on his lap to drum up the impending hard on that quickly formed at the sight of you. How could it not when his baby was adorned in matching pieces that glowed like fluorescents under the ceiling’s lavender lighting? The Cuban Link encrusted with pink diamonds and your name plate, a Rollie with the same color scheme and a glistening choker and anklet with his name on it.

all reminders of his rampant success and the fact that you were all his..taking pride in the fact that he could afford to not only splurge on himself but ice his girl out as well. One look around that bus and anyone could see how much he loved the lavish life..even if he didn’t flaunt it for the world to see.

“Y’know, I’m so proud of you, baby..I swear I’ll never get tired of hearing you perform.” the muffled words uttered in a sultry tone and one that made him feel better than any comment could. You really were his number one supporter and now, you wanted to give him a reward that no one else had to offer. Staring at his beloved with those gleaming green eyes that you loved so much, he’d crack a faint smile. “Yeah? I did a good job, huh mama?” that nickname always sending chills and tingles to unseen places…

honestly, being the perfectionist he was, he’d had doubts. There was no way he’d be able top his last performance or draw out another crowd like that. But you were going to remind him every time that he still was every bit of the star they said he was. And that was all the validation he needed.

you’d continue touching and licking all over him, trying to render that pretty physique of his completely nude. “…mmmm, yes and you looked sooo fucking good on that stage tonight..couldn’t wait to come fuck on you..”

admitting bluntly with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, suckling on his skin and surely leaving a hickey or two. Meanwhile, you’d rub the thin seat of those panties against his erection, that was growing larger. The tiny wet spot forming as a result of the friction…which made him claw at the sheets. There was no way he’d ever survive this tour without you here! Months on the road without his girl?

FaceTime would’ve never sufficed but truthfully, you were turned on the second you saw him up on that stage..so confidently spitting his lyrics, commanding the crowd and talking his shit. What really done you in was the final song when he became shirtless;

black cargos hugging his waist and faintly exposing the waistband of his boxers..chains shining and sweat glistening from his ripped muscles as he was performing one of his more risqué joints. Looking direct at you when he rapped about fucking like he wanted to give you his child. Of course, his horny fangirls would probably disagree and say the message was meant for them..hence why they all began grabbing at his crotch.

“Yeah? ‘Cause I been needing some of that pussy too..”

..but rest assured, you were the only thing on his mind. That much confirmed by the way he was sucking his teeth and moaning. Pawing at your g-string to peel it back and expose your dripping center. Once that cool air hit your warmth, his cock was next; allowing you to tease yourself against his shaft as he opened up that bathrobe. So helplessly grinding and whimpering with his tip grazing your clit..leaning up momentarily only to align with your entrance..gliding down on it until you both heard the slight pop of it being inside. Almost immediately, Eren tossed his head back and moaned at the sensation of your tight grip.

“Oh fuck..” meanwhile, you were getting into position; planting both feet on the bed and a hand across his chest. Something about staring down to see him with that chain on as you bounced on that dick just made you wetter. And he knew you loved fucking him with that jewelry on so he wouldn’t dare remove it..neither of you could sit idle though so once you gathered your bearings, (y/n) began moving, slowly propelling yourself up and down on it just to get a feel.

the visible tightness of your insides gripping him with each one..it was because of that, this man would buy you the whole world if you asked. That pussy was worth billions as far as he was concerned! So once you started to add a little rhythm and speed to your riding, he’d glare up at you in amazement. Smacking noises erupting as you had already slathered him down in your slick from that previous teasing.. “..yeah, just like that, baby…’fucking me so good.”

it’d be a miracle if you didn’t wake the rest of the passengers on board with his loud moaning but you weren’t too far behind as that tip reached your spot. It never took much from this angle. “Just lay back, daddy..and let me do the work. You deserve it…” nothing made him feel better. Having this bad bitch fuck his brains out..a little buzzed from the alcohol and weed he consumer earlier, it was bliss.

“Mmm..thank you, baby. Oh my God..you feel so good right now..”

but you were struggling a bit, trying to gain your pace because no matter how many times the two of you made love, his massive size was still your weakness. But you took that shit every time like you owned it! Eventually, (y/n) was full blown fucking him..balancing perfectly on those tip toes and bouncing.

even deciding to throw a few tricks into the mix with that big voluptuous ass, twerking and dancing on that dick whilst you grabbed at his chain as a leash of sorts. That’s when you felt him pulsate inside of you and felt the sudden clutch of his heavy hand on your backside, followed by encouraging slaps to your cheeks. “yeah..let me know how good that pussy feels..how much you love when I ride this dick..” without a doubt, he was your bitch at the moment! Eyes stretched wide and mouth agape with loud moans as you clamped around that shaft once again.

a sheet of slimy, sticky arousal being the only barrier between your clashing flesh. It made no goddamn sense how messy you got.

“I fucking love that shit, mama…about to make me come in that pussy..she so wet f’r me too…fuuuck!” sounding so hot and helpless with those high pitched cries. You loved when he became submissive like this.

he was exhausted after moving around on stage for two hours and not too long ago, he was drained but right now, it was taking everything in him not to fuck up into you..but he knew you could handle it and soon, it would pay off. Continuing to ride until you felt your legs begin to weaken, you’d eventually lie flat against his torso and slam that round ass entirely on him; burying that cock until it hit your core. From there, you two met in a sloppy, passionate kiss..exchanging strings of saliva and sexy whimpers.

your mouth eventually meeting his ear, only to fill it with sweet cries. “I’m ‘bout to come, daddy! Fuck..I c-ca—“ your sentence coming to an abrupt halt as you felt a ping in your tummy and suddenly, couldn’t go another second. Your wobbly legs shot straight up as you reached your climax first. Which he wasn’t too mad at, considering the fact that he always wanted you to get that nut first and also, you were flooding him and his sheets with squirt.

not to mention, it gave him just the opening he needed to take control for this next position. “Nah, don’t run. Sit on this fucking face.” With a grin on his features, Eren reached over and clutched behind your thighs, bringing you down to his face to let some remnants fall into his open mouth. He loved your taste..drinking it in like it was the finest FiJi. His freakiness knew no bounds and you loved it.

“Mmmm, baby! Fuck!” (y/n) crying out as he slurped your juices and that swollen clit. You’d look back to see his manhood still standing at attention and twitching on its lonesome as he tongue fucked your pussy. But you didn’t have to miss out on the fun either as he instructed you to flip around so that you were locked into a sixty nine position. He hadn’t come yet so he wanted make sure to fill your pretty little throat with all that nut instead..

he was already enjoying his feast, flicking his tongue between your folds and even your asscrack when you managed to get acclimated with you began suctioning those plump lips around his shaft. Sucking him off and tasting yourself in the process..soon, your bodies were like a well oiled machine; working in tandem to give each other oral pleasure..the only thing heard from either end were soft whimpers and loud slurping.

putting his dick seven inches down your throat until you coaxed out spit bubbles to further lube him up with before jerking him off for a minute. The cold steel of your chain gently brushing past his balls which caused him to thrust up into your throat. He had a knack of not playing fair when it came to you sucking his dick. He always wanted to test your limits and see how far that cock could fit, even sometimes touching your uvula when he done so. He couldn’t help himself when you were so skilled at giving head..even jokingly saving you in his phone as throat goat.

the way you didn’t care how messy it got, if you fucked up your makeup or even choked, you’d eventually end up swallowing his nut in some form or fashion. And right now, you were well on your way to doing so. Softly massaging his sack, you’d continue working his member, pumping it to inevitably make him climax. But the more you suckled at his tip, the further he shoved his tongue into your entrance and made you yelp. He’d be getting a second orgasm out of you if he wasn’t careful.

and he wasn’t letting up until that happen. However, he wasn’t too far behind and in one swift move, (y/n) spat those strings of precum and saliva back down on to his length and cleaned it all up with one big suction motion that nearly took him off the bed.

“F-fuck!” drumming those cries out of his mouth as you did the same to his cock..milking that warm, white fluid from his balls to the back of your throat. Almost like clockwork, you too released yet again, all over his tongue. He’d lap it all up with no hesitation also..

“You’re so fucking nasty…God, I love you..”

Eren choked out from the back of his throat, head tossed against the silk lined pillow case. You’d look down to see his toes curling and legs trembling..a job well done if you could say so yourself. But the two of you weren’t finished by a long shot. He needed to be inside of you..and this time, he wanted you both to watch! Finally coming to, he’d smack your ass a couple times to get your attention and move you once more.

placing you at the edge of the bed, he’d command you on all fours and to face the giant mirror in front of it. Your nude, sweat slicked bodies on full display in the reflection…it was something so sexy about it. Planted firmly in the mattress on your hands and knees, you’d stare straight ahead, winding those hips in a fluid motion and slowly making that round ass jiggle. The curve could be seen as you folded your arms and pressed your perky titties further into the mattress; making that back arch as far as it could go.

it was that type of thickness men made full songs about. That had the whole industry hating on this man for no reason..other than the fact he was the one lucky enough to beat your back in every night. But you doubted there was anyone else who could ever put that dick on you the way he did! And he was about to prove why.

“Look back at me when you do that shit, mama..” twisting your head around, you’d give him a doe eyes expression with those big brown orbs, subtly tossing it against his pelvis as he bucked up against your ass; smacking on it for encouragement. “..so goddamn fine, I swear..”

flicking your tongue over your lips, you’d continue throwing it on him until you felt him clutch your waist, resting that wristwatch on the cute dimples in the small of your back. Around your hips hung a bejeweled belly chain, and he was about to use it to his advantage. Now, he had tugged your face forward again, making you watch as prepared to give you that pipe for the second time..it was his turn to be in control so you knew he was about to go crazy…

gently tapping that head against your sticky center, he’d make you draw a few light huffs, mainly out of frustration. That little hole was spasming on air and asking to be filled so you couldn’t take anymore of the teasing. “Mmphmm…quit playinggg. Give me that dick.” It was so adorable how antsy you got that quickly. Because you looked so precious when begging, he wouldn’t hold out any longer.

“Alright, alright…I won’t. You know what to do, open that shit up then.”

immediately, you’d place your palms to your round cheeks and spread them apart. Your diamond tennis bracelet and long acrylics laying on your smooth skin..like a work of art. Suddenly, you’d see a long trail of saliva trickle from his lips onto his cock head, where he’d massage it in before stuffing it back in your needy cunt. Damn near sucked in by those folds. You obviously needed him pretty bad..

so he’d never keep his princess waiting. His manicured fingers clutched that little accessory to keep you reigned in as he began feeding you deep strokes to the center of your core. Not exactly rough yet but damn sure not slow..enough to have you creaming with only a couple in. Meanwhile, you could see him fixated on the motion of your ass, moving with each one. Back shots with you always went fucking dumb..the sound, the collision of skin..it was perfect.

“Feels good, huh baby?” Taunting in a soft moan as you’d look up and see him chewing at his lip, trying to concentrate on his rhythm. You didn’t have to worry about him because he’d be handling it soon enough. Chuckling, he’d just smack your bottom again and speed up. “You just bouncing that shit on me…don’t stop, baby.”

and you’d gladly obey, letting him tug you back as he impaled you on his shaft..fitting it past the hilt, shoving it in and then all the way back out. Soon, he was rocking you back and forth with complete dominion over your body. You’d fuck him back, meeting those thrusts for as long as you could until you found yourself trembling and he took control again. No need to stress though because he was more than capable of fucking you just fine on his own.

“..tapping out on me already, princess? I’m not even close yet.” Now it was his turn to tease you and with one hand still on your ass; thumb pressed into your puckering asshole, the other reaching for that long hair; not giving a fuck if he messed it up because he’d pay to get it redone, he’d pound your little pussy like he was trying to make good on his promise during the concert. That platinum chain slamming his chest and the few untamed brunette locks scattering around that handsome face, he’d tap into another speed and keep going for you.

the glistening diamonds of all your collective jewelry practically glowing underneath the now dimmer fluorescent lighting…such a pleasing aesthetic and fuel to keep going. At this point, he had you clawing at the bed sheets, trying to keep your head up but drool was seeping from between those pretty lips and your eyes were rolling to the back of your head..he was beating your shit up so bad, you could feel it touching the inner corner of your cervix. It was unfathomable how big that shit was and how well he wielded it. That’s why you’d gladly display his name on you.

“Hhngh! Daddy, fuck! Yes—oh my gosh! I can feel it…’s so deep..” Tears beginning to swell and fall from your eyes at this point because you couldn’t take it. His palm slowly circulated your throat, applying slight pressure to asphyxiate your breathing and give you even more stimulation. Undeniably, he was the best dick you had ever had and to think, you’d be getting it in every city and for the rest of your life. But that was perfect because he’d train that pretty little cunt to only conform to his shape. So much so, you’d never want to leave…

“I know, baby…but you taking that dick so good for me. I don’t wanna stop.” And that much was apparent when he slowed only for a second because you were frozen before clamping down and releasing a stream of squirting juices. It happened so fast, that you couldn’t even time your orgasm.. “ahhh, shittt! Mmmphm!” full blown fucked to tears as you rubbed it out onto his jumping member, which made him so proud; even slapping it against your slit to drum more out. Until you finished and collapsed on your stomach.

“You look so pretty when you come…I love it.”

but the fun wasn’t over quite yet! Keeping his palm planted to the center of your back, Eren held you down and continued drilling into you..rutting his hips into your cheeks and shoving his cock as far as he could go. “It’s alright, mama. You did so good..but let me handle the rest. I got it..lemme take care of you.” his voice completely soothing and comforting as he massaged your back. To be so delicate after making you nut for a third time was nothing less than to be expected of your man.

however, he’d be joining you shortly and you’d both be on that climatic cloud together. His voice began to crack and you’d hear his breathing become faster..he was definitely reaching his peak and before long, those thrusts slowed drastically and only came in shape jolts, signaling how close he was. That grip was a little too much now and with his shaft swollen inside of you, he’d have no choice but to stay in it. “Ha!-f-fuck!..I’m ‘bout to come, baby..”

and with those final words from his beloved (y/n)..

“Come in me..nut in this pussy, daddy. I want it..”

he’d fulfill your request by dumping every drop and inkling of his warm seed into your womb. Pinning you to the mattress before collapsing over onto your entire frame. Whining so helplessly, that it was so attractive. Being the one to witness his most vulnerable moments was so amazing, especially when you were responsible.

lying there in complete shock, you were pretty sure everyone on that bus had probably heard the two of you creating a chorus of chaotic love making. But none of it matter. In that room, it was like an entirely different planet where only you both existed and you didn’t want to come back down anytime soon..

brushing your hair off the nape of your neck, he’d place a couple soft kisses on it and your spine before bringing your face back around to let your lips crash together again. The slow kisses after fucking like animals was always the best.

“I love you..” “I love you more..” the words exchanged through pressed lips but you both meant it clear as day. For a minute, he’d just gently caress your back to soothe you. Watching you cry, even if from pleasure didn’t sit right with him! “How you feel? Are you okay?” Whispering against your ear as he gently pecked it. All you could do was giggle because after that, you had no complaints. “Much better now..you?”

and of course, it was no question: “Let’s just say I feel like I can go do a hundred shows now.” Making both of you break into laughter. It seems that your motivation was doing wonders for him.

but first, a little bit of actual sleep wouldn’t hurt! One thing was for sure though..cars, jewelry and bags aside, what you done to and for him and the love you gave was completely priceless. Something not even money could buy.

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fabdante · 2 years

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Hey there! Loved your response about your favorite pens, so I was wondering: what other kinds of traditional media do you like to use/ what are some of your favs? :D

Hello!! I’m so glad you liked the response about pens! (Located here incase anyone wants to check it out)! And oooh I have favorites. I’ve done traditional art most of my time drawing and I can be very set in my ways asdfghj.

I’m going to make little sections for mediums I like but I’ll start first with a little overview section I guess before I talk an ungodly amount about markers. Because I will talk an ungodly amount about markers. Markers are my favorite medium by far. I hated markers as a kid but as soon as I got introduced to artist grade markers my life like, changed I swear. But I’ll also touch on paint, ink, and color pencil!

This ended up a lot longer then I expected, so I put it under the cut! I have a lot of feelings about markers and gouache asdfgh.

Forewarning, I’m definitely the type of person to stick with one material after I’m introduced with very little changing over time. I am stubborn like that. So a lot of these will probably read like ‘I tried this once and I liked it and then never tried anything else’. Because that’s probably what happened asdfghjkl. Also a lot of them are probably going to be pretty unsurprising? Like a lot of them are probably fairly common responses for this kind of thing but I’m hoping my answers are somehow enlightening either way. Ok, onto the post!

Markers - Top tier fave!

What I like about markers is how flat they color. I also really like the texture of them. It’s a very flat medium, very fast drying, very good color pay off. That said however, it is not a very light fast medium. Marker out in the sun will fade incredibly fast. That’s like, universal across the medium from my understanding.

I’m not saying anything unique in saying that my favorite brand of marker is Copic. I think everyone usually says that. They are very expensive outside of Japan, but the quality of them is very high and the fact they can be refilled and their nibs can be replaced helps soften the cost for me. I’ve had markers with messed up nibs and I then had to replace the whole thing rather then the offending nib. And the refill packs stretch a really long time in my experience.

My other favorite brand was Prismacolor, but Prismacolor has since ended their marker line. Some stores still have them in stock, but they from my understanding are not coming back. At least in their previous form (I am hoping they come back in some way). They really filled in where I think Copics do lack, and that’s in having really solid bright vivid colors. Copics are like, vivid and pretty but can be a little softer where as Prisma always packed a punch. Again, hoping they come back if they ever come back I recommend them I have yet to fill the void asdfghjk.

An image of my beloved Prismacolor markers as I mourn before we move on:

Both brands I prefer the brush tip variants. To the point where I refuse to buy anything but Copic Sketch markers. There’s just more flexibility that way and control I think. However, some people prefer the chisel tips.

Now, I don’t really use other marker brands. I was very lucky that I was gifted a lot of Prismas early on and have been building my collection for years. But, seeing as I’ve laid out expensive brands and I am myself quite broke asdfgh, I have some tips I want to lay out on affording a lot of markers:

When you’re starting out, you do not need the most expensive marker set. I feel like a lot of people feel like this so they go and buy a set of Copics and then find they hate using markers and now they have Copics they never use and don’t know what to do with. You can get a feel for the medium with a cheaper set.

Replacing your set with more expensive markers over time as your current ones die out may be a better bet then buying them all in one go. This is what I did where slowly over time, where I could afford to here or there, I would buy a couple of Copics to either replace markers in my collection or add to it. It was much easier to manage then buying them all in one go.

Have a mobile marker color palette. I use index cards sorted by color type so I know all the markers I have and what they look like so when I buy lose markers, I have that with me and I’m less likely to purchase a double or one of those colors that's basically so close it might as well be the same. It also helps color match either a color that is no longer on the market or, lets say, They Get Rid Of Their Marker Brand (not bitter at all Prisma).

Also free markers are best markers if you have someone who is willing to allow you to play with their nice markers for a little bit for free to see if you like the medium before you decide to buy, definitely a win

Lastly, I’m a firm believer that the price and quality of a material does not make the art and good art can be produced with any material so, keep that in mind! Having Copics will not make you a good marker artist, practice is what does that.

Markers are still the love of my life. Even if it might not be as obvious given I mostly share digital art on here. My true struggle is how every digital ‘marker’ brush is a lie and brings me no closer to my beloved markers.

Paint

I will admit something. I hate painting. I am bad at it asdfghj it’s too hard to control. Watercolor has never agreed with me. I’m not good with acrylic. I have never tried oil and I don’t want to. It scares me. However there is one paint I do like. And that’s gouache.

Now, warning, I’m going to talk a lot about gouache now because I feel very strongly about gouache for a person who rarely paints.

More people have heard about gouache recently because of the Himi Jelly Gouache’s that have become kinda trendy. I literally just got a pack of these and made a swatch chart today (I got the really big Miya set). You’ve probably seen them around, they look like this:

But not a lot of people know about gouache, it’s kind of a weird paint.

It’s basically a more pigmented watercolor. It’s a lot thicker, it’s activated by water, and it never goes bad. Gouache that went dry ages ago can be reactivated with some water. Also, it dries fast. It became very popular amongst illustration. An example I can think of gouache that people are probably familiar with visually is Mary Blair’s old Disney concept art:

What I like about it is it reminds me more of how I work with marker then any other type of paint does. However, if you water it down too much it can become watercolor which is something to be aware of.

However, my biggest problem with it is it’s harder to find and higher grades can be incredibly expensive.

I actually can’t really recommend brands for gouache due to this because the ones I’ve used the most are lower end that I don’t really feel are worthy of recommending as a go to. I will say, whatever’s in your local craft/art store as lower grade is probably fine to play around with and will stretch a long way (ie: I did a six foot self portrait for an assignment with one of those and I still have paint left over in that set). However, those sets will likely have some problems where the pigment and the binder may have split in the tubes.

I would say something about Himi but I’ve only made a swatch chart with those and I’d rather say something about them after I’ve done a full work. For me and my workflow, I think I’ll prefer the fact the paint is in cups rather then tubes. The color selection is also very nice and you get a lot of color. However the paint itself can crack easily if laid on too thick, which is something to be aware of.

Ink

This one’s weird to me because I hate not being in absolute control. However, I love ink. I think its because I love ink pens, so I by extension feel I must love ink. Ink from the bottle is very liquidly, very hard to control, very weird, and Yet. Here I Am. Honestly, it might be because when I have a bottle of ink and a brush I feel very fancy and like I know what I’m doing when I absolutely do not.

For this section though, I think it’s important to keep in mind I’m not much of an expert with ink. I haven’t done full ink pieces. I’ve mostly used ink as an accent or a wash in mixed media pieces, so that’s the perspective I’m coming from.

I like Dr. Martin’s Bamboo line for colors. In that my professor told me to buy them, so I did, then I liked them. They have good color pay off from what I’ve messed around with. I also don’t remember if I mentioned it in the last post, but I like Higgin’s India Ink for solid black lines on top of paint also.

My one thing with straight ink that I’ve noticed personally is I have trouble getting a solid, solid black? But that’s probably the brands I’m using more then anything else.

Also I recommend a shimmery metallic gold ink. For the soul. Anyone will probably do. I just know my art life improved when I got a metallic gold ink (as evidenced by how I used one excessively in inktober 2019 asdfgh)

Color Pencil

This one I feel obligated to write because in high school I used color pencil a lot. But now I mostly use it as an accent or highlight on other mediums (namely gouache). I like Prismacolor pencils, they’re very smooth and creamy. A good color pay off. However, weirdly hard to sharpen? They can break a lot in transport to wherever they’re going internally which causes them to break a lot when sharpening.

So, that’s everything I can think of right now! I hope this was helpful and thank you as always for the ask!

#thank you for the ask!! i had fun gushing about art materials again sdfghjkl #ask #i have a lot of feelings about paint and markers asdfghj #i had to restrain myself from giving marker advice unprompted #i also just got like a bunch of new copics the other day at work very excited about markers this week #fab talks art #fab talks

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todisturbtheuniverse · 3 years

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FIC: Set All Trappings Aside [9/9] - COMPLETE

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Pairing: f!Adaar/Josephine Montilyet Tags: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Class Differences Word Count: 3500 (this chapter) Summary: After months of flirtation, a contract on Josephine’s life brings Adaar’s feelings for her closer to the surface than ever. It highlights, too, all of their differences, all of the reasons a relationship between them would not last. But Adaar is a hopeful woman at heart; if Josephine can set all trappings aside, then so can she. Also on AO3. Notes: While the context for this story is the Of Somewhat Fallen Fortune questline, some of the conversations within it didn’t quite fit for this Inquisitor. The resulting fic is a twist on the canon romance. This Adaar and Josephine have featured in other fics, so you may miss a little context if you haven’t read Promising or Truth-Telling, which both come before this one.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

It was a good party, but Adaar's mood just wasn't right for it.

She'd drunk enough to set her stomach churning, enough to dull the pain of her superficial wounds, but not enough to muddle her head. No, that seemed dangerous. Everyone in the village, even Hammond, swore up and down that all of Koster's Carvers had been caught up in the tavern and outside of it—but maybe they were mistaken. A cruel voice in the back of her head whispered, Or maybe they're lying.

She wanted to believe that becoming Inquisitor had made her paranoid, but really, ever since that night in the cellar, ever since someone had taken a saw to one of her horns, it had been there, underlying. Her current circumstances just...exacerbated it.

She didn't like to feel that she needed to watch her back when she came home. Made it feel like it wasn't home anymore.

Maybe it wasn't, little though she wanted to admit it. Before the hole in the sky, she'd returned once a year, maybe twice if the Valo-kas happened to be passing nearby. Was it really home if she spent only a handful of nights there every year? Or was it just a place she went to visit ghosts, ghosts who'd taken home with them when they went?

She made her way down the narrow path in the dark, putting the party at her back: Hammond, merrily passing out the local brew, espousing its virtues to Cassandra; Harriet, playing a jig on the accordion, Dorian and Bull in the midst of the dancing crowd, red with laughter; Marguerite and Wilfred and Lonnie, gathered around a card table, groaning as Josephine took another round with a look of polite glee. Josephine, drinking Hammond's beer like she didn't mind the taste. Josephine, catching Adaar's eye above the heads of the dancers...

There would be time for that. Soon.

She kept the lantern she carried shuttered, unwilling to ruin her night vision, and besides, she'd always liked the fields of Duskfield under the stars. It was a far cry from Skyhold, that was for sure. You could see Skyhold burning miles off, up there in the mountain ahead of you; if she turned back now, the fires of the celebration would already be nearly out of sight. Only the Dancing Star would remain.

She came to the turnstile. Her father's handwriting had faded with the sun, and she hadn't re-inked it in a long while—hadn't had the chance or the time. She trailed her fingers over the word they'd brought with them from Par Vollen, the word that had failed so bitterly in its duty of care to define them, the word she carried. She walked on.

The house, merely a dark, empty shape among a missing piece of the field, came into view. Every time she returned, she found herself surprised by its size, by the idea that she and two others had fit there. It seemed desperately small now, compared to the world she'd walked, putting holes in her boots.

She veered away, off into the field on the left. The house would be there, when she was ready. But the ghosts could not wait another minute.

Through the waving grains, toward the tree that stood stark and twisted against the starry sky, oddly bleached in the moonlight. The field parted to the little clearing, its careful rock formations intact. She released a breath. Jana had kept care of this place. Even the bench beneath the tree only had a few dead leaves; Adaar carefully brushed them aside.

But she didn't sit on the bench. She stood before the gravemarkers instead, letting a little more light from the lantern out, the better to see.

Hammond had helped her carve them. He'd taken the chisel from her whenever she'd wept too bitterly to continue. Silently offered her a handkerchief when she was ready to press on. She'd seen a few tears sneak down his old face in those hours of labor, too. She'd felt, fiercely, that her parents had been loved—that she had been loved.

"This doesn't change that," she said aloud, though no one was there to hear her. "I know it doesn't. I know that's what you would say. I just wish you were here to say it, dammit." She drew a shaky breath. "Where are my manners? Hi, Ma. Hi, Dad. You would never believe what's happened to me, and I don't think I could explain it if I tried. I just want to sit with you for a while, if you don't mind."

She put the lantern on the ground beside her when she sat. The low breeze rustled in the tree's leaves, in the grain. Here, so far from everything, she could almost believe the world was the same as it had always been, that these past few months had not happened at all. It was unchanged, here, where she'd written Beloved Husband, Beloved Father; Beloved Wife, Beloved Mother on the stones. She was unchanged.

"I'll skip all the nonsense," she said, when she'd been quiet long enough to regain her composure. "But help me get this piece right in my head. I've met someone. She's...hmm. She's not what you'd expect, I think. As different from me as it is possible to be. But she's also brave, and clever, and kind. I think you'd like her." She paused, tipping her head back to let the breeze catch her hair, ruffling up her hair like her father's hand, like her mother's kiss. "I like her. But I'm afraid of her."

With the words out in the open like that, they seemed very silly. She snorted. "I know it's stupid. But...hell, you both must have been afraid, right? You loved each other so much that you left everything else you knew. Sacrificed everything else you'd ever known. Each of your societies, and your collective society, combined. And you were happy. I saw it. I felt it." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know if it's going to work out the same way for me, but you were right. What's life without a little risk, once in a while? And besides, I think...I think it might be time for me to move my roots somewhere else. For there to be a somewhere else for my roots to go. If there's a somewhere else left, after all my nonsense is through, anyway."

She brushed her fingers over the grave markers, over the words. They weren't here. Of course they weren't. They weren't sleeping forever in the dirt beneath her. Their ashes had been flung wide across these fields, over the place they'd chosen. It was the only place that had made sense to her. Give them back to the earth that had known such love, such care, from their hands.

They weren't here. But she felt them, anyway. The sharp edges of memory had faded, and she knew they would continue to crumble, but even when everything was out of focus, someday, she would still know them. Would know, always, what they wanted for her.

"You dreamed of bigger things," she said, her throat tight. "Guess I got it from somewhere, huh?"

Heartsore but decided, she stayed there, beside the markers, watching the stars, thinking. She wondered if they'd gone through this part, too. If, even when they'd decided, they'd been terrified out of their minds.

Probably. Probably they'd stayed scared for a long time. But it had been worth it.

She'd been there an hour, sore and tired and a little chilled, before she heard a voice call softly in the distance, "Adaar?"

Her heart spasmed painfully. She sat up a little from where she'd been slouched against the bench. The voice came again, closer this time, but the word had changed: "Herah? Are you out here?"

She steadied herself and called back, "Over here." She raised a hand, high enough to be seen above the grain in the slight glow of the lantern light, and waved.

Josephine emerged into the clearing, blinking a little; she carried her own lantern, but almost entirely shuttered, like Adaar's had been. She'd taken her hair out of all of its elaborate braids so that it fell, loose with waves, around her shoulders. There was a worried twist to her mouth, and Adaar felt a surge of guilt; she really ought to have told someone, anyone, that she was slipping away.

"Hammond told me you were probably out this way," Josephine said. Her eyes found the markers. "If I'm intruding—"

"Nah." Adaar waved this off. "I've been moping out here long enough. They'd want me to pull myself together."

Josephine offered a tentative smile, and sat on the ground, tucking her skirts beneath her, not terribly near Adaar but not terribly far, either. "I've never known you to mope."

"I wisely do it out of sight of other people, for the benefit of all."

Josephine tilted her head a bit to one side. "Except you."

Adaar released a startled laugh. "How do you figure?"

Josephine looked to the markers, her eyes passing slowly over the letters. "If you mope alone, you have no one to comfort you."

"I suppose I'll have to carry on, then," Adaar said, "since you're here to comfort me."

Josephine gave her own breathless laugh, and offered her hand out, across the small distance between them. Adaar took it, intertwining their fingers.

Josephine looked up to the tree's canopy. "This is the oak?"

"Yes," Adaar said, unable to conceal how pleased she was that Josephine had remembered. "They added the bench, not long after they arrived. It felt like the right place for them, after they died. Sometimes, when I was a child, I'd wake up in the middle of the night, and I'd see this glow in the distance, beneath the tree."

"It sounds as if they truly loved one another." Adaar did not think she was imagining the wistfulness in Josephine's voice.

"It was embarrassing to me, back then. Now, I—I see how precious it was, what they had."

Josephine nodded, but didn't say anything more. They sat in a comfortable quiet for a little while; Josephine turned her face into the breeze now and then. The cozy, combined glow of their lanterns created a little pocket in this clearing, as if the rest of the world was held at bay by the shine, just for a little while. A secret, away from everything.

Adaar touched her father's gravemarker one more time, silently asking to borrow his courage. "Want to see the house?" she asked Josephine.

Josephine's face brightened. Surely she'd seen the shape of it as she'd walked past, searching for Adaar. Surely she knew it was nothing special. But she said, "Of course," as though delighted at the prospect.

Adaar got to her feet first, then helped Josephine up. They picked up their lanterns and moved away, back toward the path. As they walked, the backs of their hands brushed; Adaar took Josephine's hand this time, and she didn't pull away.

"Jana built her own place, a little further down the road," Adaar said, and pointed with her lantern past the closer house. Barely visible in the dark was another huddled shape among the fields. "She stayed in my parents' house, at first, but I think it felt too strange to her. Like I would have felt to keep living there, almost."

"Among memories," Josephine said.

"Right. But she comes through every month or so, dusts, airs the place out. I was never able to give much notice before I passed through."

"She wanted you to have a place to come back to."

"Yes," Adaar said, and left it at that.

They'd reached the clearing, the yard; together, they stood before the darkened house. She hesitated, but only for an instant.

"Come see," she said, leading the way toward the door.

The inside was much as it had always been: there, the humble kitchen off to the right with its hearth, shutters closed tight over the windows; there, the old armchair her mother had once sat in to darn socks, where she'd nursed her newborn child; there, the door to a passageway that could barely be called a hall, and two more doors at the end of it, leading to the two bedrooms. One—Adaar's—had been an addition to the original house, built by her parents. Jana and some of the other villagers had helped.

Despite the frequent airing, it still had the faint scent of misuse, of absence. It had always smelled of something delicious, a warm crackling fire, the spring breeze, when her parents had lived. Now it seemed a painful, empty shell.

There was a faint creak; she startled and looked around. Josephine moved systematically shutter to shutter, throwing them open. The night air drifted in, chasing away the stillness of neglect. Josephine leaned against one windowsill with a sigh, the breeze tugging at her hair.

"It's peaceful," she said over her shoulder. "A good place to grow up."

"It was," Adaar agreed, putting her lantern down on the kitchen table beside Josephine's. "Not…not magnificent, or anything, but still good."

Josephine turned to face her with a frown. "Not everything needs to be magnificent."

"Peace." Adaar shifted uneasily. "I know."

Josephine leaned back against the windowsill, her expression softening a little. "What's troubling you, Herah?"

A little of Adaar's anxiety melted away at that gentle voice, speaking her name. She took in a low breath. "You were right," she said. "I was afraid. I am afraid."

Josephine took a hesitant step closer. "Of what?"

"Oh, lots of stupid things." Adaar rubbed at her forehead. "That your family won't approve. That people will make snide remarks to you. That you'll have to work harder to extract what we need from our allies. That it will all add up, in the end, and we'll see that this was doomed from the start, and have only bitterness left for each other."

"Small worries," Josephine said, teasing but not dismissive. "Do not doom us before we've even had the chance to begin."

"You really don't worry about that? Any of it?"

"I can refute your points one by one, if you like."

Adaar gestured for her to go on. "Convince me, Ambassador."

She liked the coy little smile that came onto Josephine's face at those words. It was wonderfully distracting.

"My family, whenever we choose to make public declarations, will be all astonishment," she said thoughtfully. "Scandalized, but delighted. I've always been the pragmatic daughter, with no tendency toward feelings or frivolities. It will be such a relief to them that they'll hardly register who I have chosen, and when they do, they'll fall over themselves thanking you."

Adaar couldn't help but chuckle. Josephine smiled a little wider and continued.

"I have no fear of snide remarks. Frankly, the topics for condescension have been a little stale lately; perhaps this will liven them up. Besides, I have an arsenal of my own. I'm always looking for an excuse to use them. As for our allies...well, turnabout is fair play. They are hiding plenty of things that they think are salacious. I'm not above leaning on those secrets a little harder."

"You make interesting points," Adaar allowed. "And these?"

She unsheathed her daggers, dropping them one by one to the kitchen table. Josephine came forward, stopping just short of Adaar. Lightly, she touched one blade.

"You saved my life with these," she said softly. "You use them to great effect, never without thought, usually in the name of protecting others. But you have not fooled me into thinking they define you. They are only a part of you."

She looked up at Adaar; Adaar looked back, torn, wanting.

"That's the thing," she said. "It used to be simple, and now it's hideously complicated. If I went back to the Valo-kas, I wouldn't fit. Even coming back here, I don't fit. And I don't think I've quite made the leap to your world, either."

"And you don't need to. There is no my world. I do not have the authority to offer you something so abstract. There is just me. For now—to start—I would just ask you for a little time."

Josephine slipped a hand into the pocket of her dress, withdrawing a small, beautiful wooden box, polished to a high shine; even the golden hinges gleamed. She took Adaar's hand, turned it palm-up, and placed the box there. It fit neatly.

"What's this?" Adaar asked, momentarily thrown.

"A gift." Adaar got the feeling that Josephine had bitten her tongue on, Obviously.

"What for?"

She actually rolled her eyes, contrast to her fond smile. "As if you've ever made an excuse for the trinkets you give to me." At Adaar's raised brows, she huffed and said, "Very well, it is technically thanks for helping me with the House of Repose. In reality, though, I commissioned it as soon as you showed me the sketch."

"The sketch?" Adaar repeated, completely bemused now. "What sketch?"

"Open it and see."

Careful not to leave any marks in the varnish, Adaar opened the box. Nestled on a bed of dark green velvet was a delicate hourglass, gleaming in the faint light.

"I'm afraid I could only replicate one of the materials closely," Josephine said. Adaar lifted the dainty golden chain with numb fingers. "Wood, from a tree in Antiva. On the Montilyet estate, in fact. I'm certain it's not the same tree, but based on the sketch and the notes, I believe it's the same species."

Adaar could not have replied even if she'd known what to say; her tongue, usually so given to trip ahead of her thoughts, lay useless in her mouth. All the hair on her neck, her arms, stood on end. A ghost had walked right through her.

"And the gold your father used," Josephine continued, "that, of course, is irreplaceable, but the Valo-kas donated some for the purpose. The sand...Par Vollen is well out of even my reach, but I had some gathered on the shores of Haven. I remember…" Here, at last, she hesitated. "You seemed at home there. More so than in Skyhold. I thought you might like to carry it with you."

"You had the sketch in your hand for all of a moment," Adaar said, finding her voice at last. "How did you...it looks just like…"

"I have a good memory," Josephine said, with a modest smile.

"I…" Adaar shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"I have achieved the impossible. Herah Adaar, speechless." Some of Josephine's delight faded. "I hope I haven't overstepped. You do like it?"

Adaar held the hourglass out to Josephine. "Help me put it on?"

Josephine took it, plainly relieved. With deft fingers, she loosed the clasp, then fastened the chain around Adaar's neck; Adaar could feel her breath, just briefly, against her skin. She arranged the hourglass carefully, letting it fall into the V of Adaar's shirt, a little cool against her skin.

"I don't know how I'll ever repay you," Adaar said hoarsely.

"There is nothing to repay. This is a gift without strings. Though perhaps it lends a little weight to my request." Finally, Josephine's voice showed her nerves; it trembled a little. "I only ask for the next turn of the hourglass. That you set aside what you think might come, what might happen. Be with me, and when the sand runs out again, we will take stock of where we stand. Please?"

Adaar scraped a hand through her hair, driving the loose strands back from her face. "As we've established already, I can't say no to you."

Josephine's eyes gleamed. "That's not the same as saying yes."

There was not so much distance left between them now; Josephine had worked at it, chipping away right under Adaar's nose. The last of it fell away as she cupped Josephine's chin in her hand and bent her head to press her lips to Josephine's.

There had been a desperation, a stolen quality, to those other kisses—like a woman taking panicked gulps from the paltry spring she'd found in the desert, afraid that she would never drink again. But this was another thing entirely, a slow delight, something to be savored. She took her time, teased apart Josephine's lips with aching slowness, tangled her hand in Josephine's half-undone hair, lost herself in the sound of pleasure Josephine made in her throat.

When they parted, she drew just enough air to say, emphatically, "Yes."

Josephine did not wait for any further explanation; she, like Adaar, seemed to have decided that the time for conversation was past. She went up on tiptoe to kiss Adaar again, and Adaar picked her up to make it easier for her, arms tight around Josephine's waist. Josephine gave a breathless laugh of delight against her mouth.

Adaar would still worry, she knew. But for now, she would set the trappings of fear aside. She would see where this turn of the hourglass took them.

#josephine montilyet #inquisitor adaar #f!adaar/josephine #f!adaar x josephine #dragon age #inquisition #friends to lovers #class differences #mutual pining #developing relationship #universe writes

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thanksjro · 4 years

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More Than Meets the Eye #16- All the Greatest Love Songs are Secretly About Heroin

Dang, been a minute since we got into the series proper. What all happened again?

Oh. Right. That.

…So anyway, let’s brush up on our Ultra Magnus history!

There was a massive fight on top of a spaceship. Swoop was there, Impactor was there, Overlord was there, Heretech was there, Killmaster was there- shit was lit. Ultra Magnus was doing his thing, though it looks like this was before he got LASIK done, because he’s got a visor on.

Then Ultra Magnus got shot in the gut and fell off the spaceship. It was so scary his hand started spasming.

Later on, we return to a place we’ve seen before, albeit from the Decepticon side.

Magnus, your badge isn’t up to code, my guy! Better get that sorted, before your current self comes out of his medically induced coma, invents time travel, and comes to beat you up.

Also, Pious Maximus? What is your friggin’ DEAL, bro? What the actual hell is your deal?

All the K-Cons start falling out of the sky, and Magnus orders everyone to take cover, as a familiar-looking bomb that literally has his name written on it lands bang on target. It’s such an intense experience, his hands start spasming.

Later still, Magnus is in the middle of dealing with the Simanzi Massacre, and it looks like his visor’s seen better days. Hopefully it was a reading pair, and not something he actually needed to see. Rotorstorm is also there, because his character apparently only exists to suffer. Magnus and his team rise from the muck and the mire, coming ashore right on top of a Cybernought, which promptly fries Magnus with its hand lasers. He gets so crispy, his hands start spasming.

For anyone having trouble parsing the scraps of rended metal that used to be Rewind of Lower Petrohex here, allow me a moment to break him down. That cylinder in the lower left corner is his camera, the wire coming off of it is where it plugged into his head, and that squarish chunk with the clean, round hole in it is probably part of his helmet. The other chunky bits I couldn’t tell you what they are, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that Chromedome absolutely put the dog to sleep with that blast last issue.

Inside the Lost Light, Swerve’s trying to be a nice guy by putting on some tunes for Ultra Magnus, who got his spark shot by Overlord last issue, but all it’s really done is make Ratchet get distracted.

Magnus is in a bad way, as was established by First Aid last issue, and it doesn’t seem like Ratchet’s having any more luck than had been predicted. Swerve’s here for emotional support, and also because he’s got medical training. Tailgate’s here for cleanup duty. Drift’s off in the corner making snide remarks about the medical equipment, probably because he’s mad his legs are still off.

Drift looks like he’s been chiseled out of stone here, and I kind of love it. Forget softboi uwu Dwift, I want more of this guy who’ll bite into a teddybear cactus and not even flinch.

Agustin Padilla’s back on the scene for this issue, and he’s decided that everyone’s going to be elongated in as many ways as he can manage in 20 pages. Tailgate and Swerve? Tallest they’ll ever be in the series. They’re as tall as Cyclonus, and he’s a fucking space jet. Someone’s got a chevron? You better believe that thing’s scraping the gotdang ceiling. Drift’s kitty-cat ears almost never fit into the panel, because those suckers are LONG today. It’s like they’ve all been put through a taffy-puller. There are a lot of little quirks with this art, but this is one I can kind of get behind, if only because it’s so distinctive.

Getting back to the story, Drift’s talking about the Death Clock here- no, not the animated band from Adult Swim, but an actual medical device that can calculate the moment a shrinking spark will give out, down to the second. It only measures the lifespans of the terminally ill, so Swerve hasn’t accidentally given himself even more depression by sticking his little hands in the shiny light without a thought as to what the device he’s messing with might do.

Ultra Magnus has about ten days to live. This makes Tailgate incredibly upset, because he, unlike everyone else on the ship, hasn’t experienced the horrors of war and death.

Ratchet’s right, though. There’s certainly a chance that Tailgate, who’s been shown to react to stressful situations by having panic attacks to the point of blacking out, could have a very severe response to what is his first major catastrophe. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder usually isn’t an immediate development, but being proactive about your mental health is never a bad thing if you can swing it. Hell, with how bad the Overlord situation was, I wouldn’t be surprised if Rung was booked solid long enough for Tailgate to actually have time to develop PTSD.

Rodimus is on the intercom to address the situation that just took place, because man oh man, was it a doozy. He intends to hold an inquiry to figure out just what the hell happened and how Overlord got on the Lost Light to begin with. As he tells everyone what’s going to happen, our focus shifts to Chromedome, who’s standing on the outside of the ship, staring off into space.

Man, I hope Chromedome’s on the front half, because this is a fucking grim scene to witness.

Skids comes out, having been looking for Chromedome. Trailcutter of all people pointed him in the right direction- which I suppose makes sense, given that he was on the Ethics Committee on Kimia. He probably would know Chromedome and Rewind decently well by this point.

Chromedome turns around to show off his mourning black Autobot badge, freshly photoshopped onto his chest for our viewing pleasure. It’s especially blatant when contrasting with Padilla’s rougher linework style.

Skids asks our brand-new widower how he’s holding up, and Chromedome says he’s fine, which is funny, because the other day he was all:

Chromedome has a moment of reminiscing, playing connect-the-dots with the stars like he and Rewind used to do all the time.

Skids, they were married for 250,000 years.

Skids might actually have been one of the worse people to have found Chromedome, if this is what he’s going to say, and then immediately leave. He’s so awkward and clearly uncomfortable and doesn’t want to be there. Does he feel weird about Chromedome knowing more about him than he himself does? Does Skids not have access to any of his memories related to mourning? Geez, I hope nobody needs him to help them through a difficult emotional time for a good while, because this was painful to watch.

Back inside the ship, Rung’s come over to Rodimus’ room to see what all the crashing and banging is about. It would seem our dear captain’s upset, and has decided to work through his frustrations by destroying his private quarters, perhaps in an attempt to summon the wrath of Ultra Magnus, thus saving him through the power of his own mess-induced rage. Rung comes to sit with Rodimus, I guess giving up his search for Chromedome, and the two of them discuss Magnus. Specifically, they discuss Magnus’ memos, and how much Rodimus despises receiving them, because they make him feel like he’s not doing his job right. He stopped even opening them, they made him feel so bad.

If you subscribe to the headcanon of Rodimus having ADHD, you could potentially read this as being a manifestation of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. As it is within the story proper, Rung’s decided to ignore this tidbit of information to get at the more pressing issues, like why exactly Rodimus felt the need to wreck his room.

This is about the point where the art for Rodimus becomes roughly 90% spot blacks, and it’s highly suggested that Rung get out while the getting’s good.

Oh, well this is going to be awkward.

Later on, we’re at the funeral. There’s five coffins, though not all of them actually contain a body. Everyone’s here to see their friends off, even Cyclonus, who was invited to the wake by Chromedome himself. Awful nice of him to do that, given their history.

The lineup in the front row is a bunch of chatterboxes, and they prove that very quickly as Swerve, Skids, and Whirl theorize on the contents of Brainstorm’s mysterious briefcase, which is also here at the funeral. Swerve swears himself to the duty of finding out what’s inside, on threat of death should he fail.

A short time skip is had, and Rodimus is revealed to be wearing his ceremonial funeral cape and terrifying vampire arm spikes to this shindig, as he sends Tripodeca, who is surely the most beloved of all Autobots, off with as many kind words as he can muster in the time they have. Everyone says goodbye, and we get to Rewind’s turn. Rodimus has a moment of pause, as Rung gives him the most withering look I believe he will ever produce in the entirety of the run of MTMTE/Lost Light.

Rodimus concedes to giving Rewind the credit for saving everyone from Overlord posthumously, as well as Fortress Maximus and Chromedome, labelling himself as a failure on that front. Chromedome comes up to the podium for a few words on the love of his life.

…well, it’s been a long day for everyone, I suppose.

Chromedome sits back down, right next to Brainstorm because they’re besties, as Brainstorm stares him down like he knows something Chromedome doesn’t.

Probably because he does.

After the funeral, Brainstorm pays Chromedome a visit, finding him in the middle of spring cleaning. He’s taking all of Rewind’s stuff and shoving it in a box to be destroyed.

Does it count as foreshadowing if it’s like a page before the reveal? I guess so.

Chromedome is trying to ease Brainstorm’s mind about the inquiry Rodimus is conducting, saying that the guy ought to talk to Drift before he gets TOO antsy about spilling the beans- perhaps a touch too late there, Domey- but Brainstorm isn’t here for any of that.

So you’re saying Chromedome/Dominus isn’t going to be endgame.

Turns out Chromedome’s been collecting dead spouses, and he wasn’t even aware of it. When faced with this inherent truth about his personal relationship with grief, Chromedome only has this to say:

Time for a pop quiz!

When the burden of life is too much to bear, what is an addict most likely to do? Is it:

A) Quit cold turkey

B) Seek help for their addiction

C) Relapse

If you answered C, you get a gold star, and a harsh reminder that addiction is a fucking monster that will devour your life and meaningful relationships, leaving you with nothing but itself for company.

Chromedome has had a problem with injecting since he got good enough at it to get his own set of finger needles, and he’s been completely dependent on other people to get himself to even close to stopping the habit. His character bio on the crew roster page has, up until this point, outright claimed this.

Now Rewind’s gone, and there’s really nothing stopping him from just taking that pain away. Brainstorm certainly can’t do it, though not for lack of trying.

Chromedome says that he won’t go through with his plan, but Brainstorm knows he’s lying, because they’ve done this song and dance before. At this point, asking Chromedome to not inject is just a courtesy to the deceased.

No wonder Chromedome invited Cyclonus to the funeral- probably figured why the hell not, since he wouldn’t remember it anyway.

Brainstorm gives Chromedome a data slug- the last one Rewind ever made, shot through the door just before it sliced Chromedome’s arm off, and found by Fort Max. Brainstorm leaves, probably to go prepare himself for that awful, hollow feeling he’ll be getting the next time he sees Chromedome.

Over in the shuttle bay, Rodimus is addressing the crew, Chromedome is retconned into being Toxin because he’s not supposed to be in this scene, and Drift is named as the sole conspirator in the Overlord debacle. Rodimus just starts tearing into Drift, and while he does, we cut over to the medibay, where some zombie nonsense is going on.

Golly, seems like there’s some flavor of undead on the Lost Light every other week, doesn’t it?

Rodimus strips Drift of his Autobot badge and tells him to get the fuck out.

Back at Chromedome’s room, he’s decided to take a gander at what Rewind left behind, plugging the data slug into the computer.

Man, this part always makes me a little weepy.

I can’t do Rewind’s final message justice, not in the choppy format I present here- which is perhaps a bit ironic, given the nature of how it’s presented. In the final moments he had, Rewind pieced together a plea for Chromedome to love himself, and to remember that he was- and still is- loved. He shared his own fears of them being apart, and how he knows how hard the coming days will be. He begged Chromedome to be kind to himself, because he- whether he believes it or not- has grown from the person he was in the New Institute.

As this message plays out, we see Drift swarmed by furious Autobots, who get violent as he makes his way off the Lost Light, only to be helped back to his feet by none other than Ratchet, before climbing into a shuttle, surely never to be seen again.

Shane McCarthy slipped Roberts a twenty to set up a slowburn between his OC and Ratchet all the way back in MTMTE #4. This is the start of the pining portion of their relationship.

God, just- there’s a reason Roberts has claimed this issue as one of his best, and it’s this fucking message. Please, if you somehow have gotten to this post without reading the comics- well, first, how, and second- go and READ THEM. I promise it’s worth it, they’re beautiful and funny and full of heart, even when everyone’s being a dick to each other.

Rewind leaves Chromedome with one final piece, which probably didn’t feel like enough, but was all he could manage in the time he had left.

I’m basically legally obligated to post this panel.

Let’s take a moment to consider Rewind as a character. He’s an archivist, and one who’s gotten very good at his job over the millennia. The guy’s OBSESSED with history, and recording as much of it as possible.

Which stands to reason that he knew about Chromedome’s past conjunx endurae. I mean, why wouldn’t he? It would be public record- even if you don’t necessarily get a marriage license on Cybertron, Chromedome would have been on the paperwork with these other guys somewhere, and the fact that he wouldn’t be able to answer the question of “Who’s this guy you lived with for several thousand years?” Would imply some… rather unfortunate things.

Rewind also has a hard time letting go of things- he gets jealous of Chromedome’s past relationship with Prowl any time it’s brought up, and he’s still looking for his ex-husband after what’s probably been at least a million years. That, combined with the way Rewind lives his life- you know, recording every single moment of it- gives me the impression that he really, really wouldn’t enjoy the idea of being forgotten. He wants Chromedome to stop injecting because it’ll kill him, of course he does, but he also wouldn’t want to be erased.

The video cuts off, leaving Chromedome alone. It’s all up to him now, whether Rewind gets to stay in his heart now.

Chromedome/Dominus is still on the table.

With THAT crisis of love dealt with, we move back on to that weird zombie nonsense we saw a little bit ago. Ultra Magnus is missing. Odd, that.

Ratchet, how many times are your patients going to have to disappear from your medibay before it’s less of a “them” problem, and more of a “you” problem?

As Ratchet goes off to search the rest of the ward, Tailgate accidentally bumps into the death clock, which gives him a nasty little surprise: apparently he’s only got three days to live.

Yeah, this is the point where the comic kicks into overdrive, plotwise- there are no brakes on this train anymore.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 16 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis #comic script writing

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ragewerthers · 4 years

Text

Beast

Summary: There is no greater joy, in Ignis' opinion, then waking up with Gladio by his side. But as of late there has been one troubling nuisance that seems hell bent on ensnaring him.Gladio's hair.Is there really any way to tame the hair beast?

A/n: This is another F3S for my good friend @bgn846!

I couldn't get this out of my head as soon as I read it and I had to write it right away! :D The prompt was:

'Gladio's hair is crazy especially after he wakes up. He sorta has bangs, or a mohawk or who knows it's nuts. So who gets this lovely view in the morning? Or maybe he's tired and he doesn't style it one day. Or maybe they run out of hair gel while on the road trip.'

I hope that this has all the fluff you are looking for, my friend!

You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266075

Enjoy! :D

Word Count: 1833

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

Mornings with Gladio were nothing short of wonderful. The man was an insatiable cuddlebug and on the coldest of mornings he was a welcome haven of coziness, something that Ignis could burrow into and find safety in. However… there was one part of the morning that, as of late, was starting to become a bit of a nuisance.

Gladio’s hair.

To be fair, Ignis adored his darling’s hair. It was luxurious and thick. Its color was a deep, dark brown that reminded Ignis of his beloved Ebony and the way it would get those soft waves in it when it got wet or when he styled it was something that always seemed to make him weak-kneed.

But right now, in this moment, as the sun was just beginning to make its way through the blinds of their bedroom… it was attempting with all its might to strangle the hell out of him.

Gladio’s hair, much like the man himself, was not something easily tamed. In the morning it was at its most wicked. It would hiss at the sight of a brush, recoil at the sight of a comb and lash out at any sort of hair product meant to beat it into submission.

Ignis was currently caught up in his partner's embrace, a place normally so welcoming, but his entire face was almost completely entangled in the man's mane which also meant that Gladio’s own face was all encompassed in it leaving nothing of his chiseled features to view. Not that Ignis could see it with what was already falling over him and blurring his vision.

“Gladio? Gladio, lo-...Pbthhthp!” His attempt to gently rouse the man was abruptly ended as some of Gladio’s hair went for the attack. Gladio had shifted causing another cascade to fall over Ignis’s face and inadvertently getting into his mouth.

“M’ff… don’... Igs sleepin’…,” Gladio mumbled as he pulled Ignis closer and nuzzled into the top of his head which was, more or less, 99.9% Gladio’s own hair.

Bringing a hand up, Ignis began to carefully make a bid for freedom. First he brushed it away from his own face so as to be able to see and breath again which was a blessing. Then, gently, he began to sweep it back over Gladio’s face as well, slowly revealing his sleeping features and making his heart flutter ridiculously in his chest.

Tucking a rampant wild curl behind Gladio’s ear, he let his fingers gently trace the outer shell, watching as Gladio’s nose crinkled slightly at the touch.

Ignis bit his lip and held back a little chuckle as he watched this. He continued to gently trace his fingers down the side of Gladio’s neck and was rewarded with a little wiggle out of the man as his shoulders scrunched up and a rumbled little giggle bubbled up from his chest.

Ignis was just reaching back up to follow the same path again with his fingers when he found his wrist captured quickly in Gladio’s strong yet gentle hold. Glancing over he noticed one sleepy amber eye watching him intently, the other still obscured by his hair. Ignis chuckled softly and gave him his most innocent smile.

“Have I awoken the beast?” he murmured softly, not wanting to completely disrupt the quiet morning.

Gladio gave a little growl at that. The sound rumbling through his chest as he brought Ignis’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to his palm. “You have,” he purred back, his voice pitched deeper from sleep and making Ignis’s cheeks flush slightly at the timbre of it. Gladio noticed the little flush and the corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “Why’re you feelin’ so brave this mornin’?” He pressed another kiss against Ignis’ wrist, slowly lifting his arm higher and higher to kiss along the underside of his forearm and nipping gently at the crease of his elbow.

The flush of Ignis’s face began to travel along with Gladio’s gentle attentions. His ears and neck slowly starting to feel warmer and warmer. “I-I had to if I wanted to survive,” he stammered out, breath hitching a moment as he felt the little nip.

The comment caught Gladio off guard and for a moment a flicker of concern passed over his features. Ignis noticed the change and offered him a gentle smile to quell his worries.

“I’m alright, love. It was just… your hair was attempting to claim me in its clutches,” he murmured softly, watching as the worry slowly ebbed away as gentle amusement took over Gladio’s expression.

Gladio relinquished his hold on Ignis’ arm, moving instead to wrap his own arm back around the Adviser’s lithe waist and draw him closer. Trying to make amends in some small way for what his hair had attempted to do so early this morning. He could feel Ignis settling in his hold once more and ran a hand over his spine to keep him close and content. “I don’t know why it fights so much in the morning. It’s like it gets a life of its own,” he joked, feeling Ignis chuckle against him.

“It’s like in your sleep you become some sort of… hair beast,” Ignis teased, getting Gladio to snort and lean back to look at him with his still partially hair covered face.

“Well… I’m awake now and I’ll make sure to keep you safe,” he murmured fondly, pressing a few gentle kisses over Ignis’s face.

Closing his eyes, Ignis felt his own smile growing at the peppered kisses, basking in the warmth of his lovers' embrace… at least until he felt a barrage of hair once again fall onto his face shrouding him in darkness.

“Gladio! It’s doing it again!” Ignis cried out, lifting his hand to try and clear his sight only to be stopped by a sudden attack on his neck. A flurry of kisses and nibbles instantly eliciting a squeak from him as he began to squirm and giggle unbecomingly in Gladio’s hold. “N-no! Gladio! Y-You’re supposed to pro-tehehect meehehe!” he cried out, pushing at the man’s chest ineffectively and soon finding himself rolled over onto his back and gently pinned.

“Gladio?” the Shield growled playfully against Ignis’ neck, his fingers now moving to lightly scribble against the Adviser’s side and making him try to curl up and bat away the monster's hand as a new round of manic giggles and snorts began to escape him. “There is no Gladio here. Only the hair beast!”

“Stahahapit you m-monstehehe!” Ignis tried to chide, but sadly his laughter overtook him. Especially when Gladio nuzzled his stubbly jaw right into the crook of his shoulder making him let out the most ridiculous squeal that had him flushing crimson.

It did, however, do the trick of getting Gladio to pause his attack as he started to laugh at the noise. Leaning up on his one arm he looked down fondly on his blushing and panting partner.

“That was the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard, Ignis,” Gladio chuckled, bringing a hand up to soothe over Ignis’ chest to help calm his breathing and giggles. It seemed to help slightly as the Adviser began to calm minutely and Gladio shook his head to the side a little, trying to move some of his hair from his sight to see his partner properly.

Ignis rolled his eyes both at the spectacle and the comment, still laying there panting and blushing with a smile lingering over his lips. “Y-you… will speak of that to no one… understood?” he asked, only just seeing the crinkle of Gladio’s smile underneath the man;s wild curtain of hair that still managed to obscure him from view.

“You think I’d share that cuteness with anyone else? Never,” Gladio promised, finally bringing his hand up to push his hair back from his face so he could look at Ignis properly.

As Ignis watched the unveiling of his partner from underneath his wild locks, his blush seemed to come back full force. It always struck him just how beautiful Gladio was and after having been denied the sight of him the entire morning he was reminded instantly. In the full light of dawn, with the sun playing over his lover's tan skin, his whiskey gold eyes and warm smile… his heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest.. Ignis loved every bit of this man, crazy hair and all, with every fiber of his being.

Bringing a hand up, Ignis gently cradled Gladio’s jaw, his thumb soothing over his stubbly cheek and watched as his gentle giant of a lover closed his eyes at the touch and nuzzled into his palm. This only served to make the warmth in his chest grow and he knew the smile that blossomed over his lips was ridiculous, but he was just so happy. So content. He refused to try and hide it and especially from Gladio.

“Gods I love you,” he whispered softly, almost reverently, as he let the moment completely draw him in.

Gladio’s eyes opened once more, honey-gold meeting sparkling emerald. “And I love you, Ignis. More than I can ever say,” he whispered back, ducking down to capture the Adviser’s lips in a warm, lingering kiss.

Ignis was more than happy to return it, a soft hum escaping against Gladio’s lips as the hand that rested on his partner's jaw moved up to gently tangle in that wild mane Gladio called hair.

Carefully lowering himself, Gladio’s chest only just resting over Ignis’, the Shield let another happy little purr rumble in his chest at the touch. He could feel Ignis starting to smile against his lips and soon the kiss couldn’t be maintained any longer. Leaning back with a little chuckle he stared fondly down at his lover, pressing another little kiss to the tip of nose if only to get it to crinkle adorably. “You have no right being this adorable, Iggy,” he chided lightly, getting the normally stoic Adviser to giggle.

“My apologies. I shall endeavor to stop,” Ignis promised, getting another soft growl from Gladio as the Shield hid against his neck.

“Don’t you dare,” he mumbled, making Ignis smile more as he brought his other hand up to soothe against Gladio’s muscled back.

“Alright. I won’t. But only because my hair beast asked so nicely,” he teased gently, turning his head to press a little kiss to the aforementioned tangled mess of curls. He felt a quiet little chuckle against his shoulder and could practically feel the way Gladio started to nod off against him again. As he continued to soothe his darling’s back and lightly scratch over his scalp he smiled more, letting his own eyes close as he allowed himself to relax as well.

Morning’s with Gladio really were nothing short of wonderful. Even if a certain hair beast managed to show up every now and again.

Ignis wouldn’t have it any other way.

#ffxv #gladnis #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia #fluff #tickling #tickle fic #my fics #domestic fluff #i love them so much #f3s

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guksthighs · 7 years

Text

Backstage Pass

Group: BTS

Pairing: JUNGKOOK X READER

Excerpt: "what is the plan?"

Maybe it was the use of present tense that made his heart skip a beat, and swallowing hard he looked you dead in the eye, "Sex."

Genre: smut

Length: 3.4k

A/N: i did a thing. a v smutty thing. tell me what you think because i’m not sure if i should continue writing smut. also this was inspired by a gif that i lost rip

Warnings: thigh riding, dirty talk, swearing, oral, sex

There was always this sense of peace you found standing in the middle of a concert, as fans jostled you forward so they could get closer to the stage and their beloved idols. You were used to this routine, helping the boys get ready for concerts as you sprinted around filling in for anyone missing or help with how the band should be organised and then watching the concert.

Apparently, it was unusual for a roadie to watch the concert from the seats, but you loved the experience and the boys liked to hear your first-hand opinions on their performance, swarming you as soon as you had walked backstage.

It was their last song, and even though the sweat had plastered their hair to their foreheads they were obviously having a lot of fun; jumping around the stage in tight black jeans that made the fans and you go crazy. By this point, their earpieces had all been yanked out during the lalala's of the rise of bangtan.

Your heart began to race as you watched Jeongguk run and slide on his knees across the stage, as he began to sing his part. His eyes were shut and at this point, you felt the determination to not destroy your friendship disintegrate, as you let yourself admire his chiselled jawline and wonder what his long fingers would feel like entangled in your hair instead of gripping his mic.

You only snapped out of your trance when the boys were standing in a row, circling their hips in a way that should be illegal, Jeongguk at the end somehow managed to find your eyes and as he pulled his bottom lip through his teeth, he made a beckoning motion.

Usually, this would be easily brushed off, but when all the girls around you began screaming in excitement, you realised it meant 'see me backstage' and your heart dropped. Although you were wishing it was for you, the chances were slim as after all this time you doubted that would be how Jeongguk would confess to you.

Jeongguk and you had been inseparable since you had first met, almost attached at the hip since he had first heard you practice playing your guitar before the audition. He had walked over to you, head hung low so his eyes were hidden by a black fringe and sat next to you. There was something about your bright smile but tremble in your hands that he found comforting because you were scared as well.

You both saw each other a lot when you got into your respective bands, however, when yours disbanded due to death threats it was Jeongguk who had the idea for you to become the bangtan roadie.

So seeing Jeongguk motion for someone to see him after the show rubbed you up the wrong way, and by the time you looked up and saw them bowing you began to make your way backstage, using your hands to wade through the fans.

When you finally reached the door to the side of the stage, you flashed your pass to security, they smiled at you before opening the door allowing you to run inside and into the bright white corridor. This was one of the nicer backstages, and as you walked past the doors reading the name of each member, you came to a halt outside Jeongguk's.

The door was all black, small gold stars had been stuck on the paper name tag that you had stuck on almost a week ago, and as you studied the random doodles that the boys had obviously left as a joke, you finally found the courage to knock on the door.

"It's open,' his voice sounded husky through the door, and your hands trembled as you reached for the handle, jumping back when it swung open to reveal a topless Jeongguk, "I knew you would come!"

He was truly a walking mystery, his words sounded almost childish and yet you were currently inches away from a broad, toned chest that you yearned to run your fingers over. Jeongguk's hand landed on your shoulder as he pulled you into his room, only to shut the door behind you.

"Honestly Jeongguk, what were you thinking making that gesture?" You rubbed a hand over your forehead, trying to drag your thoughts away from his body and tongue that was currently gliding over his top lip as he ruffled his sweat covered hair with a white fluffy towel.

"Well it got you in here," his smile made his eyes turn to slits and wondered if he was saying that it was you he wanted to see after. Jeongguk had walked over to the sofa in the corner of the room and was splayed across it, head hanging off the side so he was looking at you upside down, "you're really hot."

"What?" You knew you had misheard, this wasn't happening. You narrowed your eyes, before walking to him and crouching so you could place a hand against his forehead to test for some sort of fever that would make him delusional, however, he was bright eyed as always.

"I said you're hot; as in I like you and find you extremely attractive. But your personality is also beautiful to me and can you say something?" He was watching your cheeks darken in a thick blush in amusement, and as he moved to get his head off of the back of the sofa it knocked yours, so you were both yelping in pain.

"Alright, you're not feverish," at this point you were completely ignoring him, and with a snap of your fingers you turned to him, "Jeon Jeongguk how dare you drink before a concert!"

He rolled his eyes, hooking a finger under your jaw and planting a kiss on your lips, and it took all of your mental strength to push him away when you had been imagining this for so long.

But he was now kneeling in front of you, and you couldn't escape his gaze as he placed his hands on your waist so you would stay still. His voice was soft when he next spoke as if scared he would frighten you away, "Performing gives me the confidence to say and do things I wouldn't usually," he ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily before looking away, "honestly this wasn't part of the plan."

You couldn't help the smile that spread over your face, this cocky boy had planned his confession and how he expected you to react, so smoothing a hand over a hard thigh, you smiled at him, "what is the plan?"

Maybe it was the use of present tense that made his heart skip a beat, and swallowing hard he looked you dead in the eye, "Sex."

A short burst of laughter left your mouth before you realised he wasn't joking, you raised an eyebrow waiting for him to elaborate but he didn't. Jeongguk simply stood up and continued to wipe his toned chest with the towel, most likely waiting for you to say something, "I mean, it's a bit sudden Guk. I only just found out you like me, how do you know I feel the same way." Although you were wildly attracted to him, you were interested to see why he had assumed you would be willing to have sex with him.

"I see the way you look at me, I'm not an idiot. And yes it's sudden but look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to," and there he was, cocky Jeongguk that you only saw glimpses of when he was drunk, performing or winning at MarioKart and you hated to admit it but it was a big turn on to see him so dominant and not fumbling over his words.

Standing slowly you made your way over to him, lust fogging your mind as you placed your hands on his pulling the towel away and throwing it over your shoulder in one swift action, "If we do this, and something doesn't work out you better not start acting like a prissy bitch around me."

Jeongguk was surprised to suddenly see you so confident, and he wondered if it was because you now knew he liked you, but he wasn't complaining as he placed his fingers into your skirt loops so he could lean his head on your shoulder, before whispering, "I managed to keep it in my pants for this long, if you decide you don't enjoy it we go straight back to normal."

Usually, you weren't this daring, but maybe his confidence had rubbed off on you. Or maybe it was his honesty and straight to the point confession that could have backfired that made you wonder if the thing you had imagined for so long could become a possibility.

Jeongguk traced up your neck with his nose before you sighed and turned so your lips were a whisper apart, Jeongguk looked at you with a flicker of uncertainty, "are you sure?" This time you silenced him by pressing your lips to his, but your lips soon detached from his with a gasp as he grabbed the back of your thighs to lift you up.

Jeongguk's strength shocked you slightly, as you let him carry you to the sofa, where he sat and as his lips attached to your neck leaving open mouthed kisses against the skin, you let out a moan which you quickly stopped by placing a hand over your mouth in surprise; Jeongguk stopped his movements before sitting up so he was face to face with you again, cupping your head he tilted his head with a toothy grin, "don't hold back your moans, they're music to my ears."

Having said that his hands began to push up your skirt, eyes locked on your pants and you couldn't help but squirm under the heat of his gaze as your yearned for some kind of friction. Jeongguk felt you wiggling and smirked, licking his lips he moved you so you were straddling one of his thighs, and placing his hands on your waist he lowered you onto the hard muscle, before his large hands slid up your curves to stop at the hem of your shirt that he pulled up as they continued their journey.

"I'm just evening the playing field here," with a whimper as you watched his abs tense with each breath, you leant forward to tentatively lick his lips and smiled as he caught the tip of your tongue lightly in his teeth, pulling it forward. Without thinking you rolled your hips into his thigh.

Jeongguk tensed under you, his body shuddered as he desperately tried to keep the urge to fuck you senseless under control, but as he tensed his thigh under your crotch and moved it up slightly, you let out a long moan and fell forward into his chest. Your hips continued to grind slowly into his thigh, the creases of the fabric giving you the friction you desperately craved.

You no longer cared about appearances, your mouth attached to Jeongguk's pale skin as you bit and sucked into it trying to withdraw moans and grunts from him and when he refused to give up one grunt you went for a more head on approach.

Your hands found his bulge easily, and as you began to palm it he finally let out a drawn out groan, "Fuck, you've gotten this hard already and I only just touched you." You were surprised by your own words, but the look on Jeongguk's face was worth it, his head was leaning back, throat exposed and his breath came out in heavy pants as you slowly unzipped his jeans.

Jeongguk jumped up suddenly, you stumbled back and tripped on the towel you had picked up earlier, but his arm looped around your waist catching you before your fall. This gave him the perfect access to lean down and press a light kiss to your lips, licking across the seam before moving so he could whisper in your ear, "how about you take off those clothes and we do something even more fun."

You were so focused on trying to unhinge your bra, that seemed determined to stay on that you hadn't noticed Jeongguk on his knees in front of you, until his fingers hooked under the sides of your pants and slowly began to pull them down before finally looking up at you when they pooled at your feet, "Y/N-"

It was like he wasn't even talking to you at this point, his eyes transfixed by what was between your legs, you couldn't help yourself as you squirmed, rubbing your thighs together in embarrassment, but he simply placed a firm hand on either thigh to spread them. His hands rubbed comforting circles into the soft skin as he waited for you to tell him he could go ahead, "Please. I want your taste on my tongue, I want to make you feel good."

Your body trembled at his words before you nodded at him, maybe it was the desperation and determination in his voice that made you know you'd be safe with him, and with no hesitation Jeongguk turned and pushed you into the sofa, throwing your legs over his shoulders with a smirk.

"Trust me, babe," and with that, his face disappeared between your legs. As soon as the slow licks began you found your back lifting from the sofa, your hands digging into his black locks as you desperately tried to get him as close to your clit as possible.

Jeongguk chuckled at your sudden desperation, and the vibrations made you squirm so much he was forced to hold your waist down as he continued his ministrations that were making you a moaning mess before he suddenly stopped and rested his chin on your thigh, "what do you want me to do?"

You were struggling to form a sentence, random words leaving your mouth as you tried to make him understand, but he shrugged and moved to sit up, "keep going," Jeongguk licked one stroke over your opening before looking at you expectantly, "with your fingers and tongue."

You waited for him to give you some sort of sarcastic reply, but instead, he grinned and you watched as he popped a finger into his mouth before pulling it away, a string of saliva connecting the two. But soon enough your back was arching again as he inserted a finger, then two in almost a second. Jeongguk seemed on a mission now, his mouth slotting over your folds, as he began to suck on his tongue slipped into them, and you let the moans tumble from your mouth as you gripped onto the sofa trying to stop yourself from jerking away from him.

"Fuck Jeongguk," he had begun to scissor his fingers within you, and the stretch was making you ache for something bigger than his fingers, although they felt so much better than your own and reached places that made your head feel light, "I want your cock."

Jeongguk stopped, and you sat up your legs. that were still hooked over his shoulders making you slam his face back into your pussy. You both laughed as you tried to untangle yourself, his strong arms bracing himself on the side of the sofa, "desperate looks good on your babe."

"Don't act like you don't want to be in me," he nodded in agreement, busy trying to adjust both of your bodies in a way that would allow him to fuck you on the sofa, finally he stopped wriggling. You were lying on the sofa, Jeongguk's figure looming over yours, you let your hands run down his torso, before pulling down his boxers and watching it slap against his stomach.

"Condom?" you managed to stutter out between the small kisses that he was planting against your lips and cheeks, and he paused before leaning past you and reaching into his jean pocket withdrawing the silver square. You moved to grab it but he sat back on his knees, with a shake of his head and a smile he looked down at you with hooded eyes, "if you touch me now I might cum and that is not how I thought this would go."

You watched him concentrate before cracking a smile, "you had a lot of plans, am I living up to expectations." Your voice had an underlying tone of anxiety that he picked up instantly, large arms scooping you up and pulling you into a toned chest as he rubbed his head into the top of your hair.

"You are so much better than I could ever dream of," his voice was husky and sent shivers down your spine that made him chuckle, planting a chaste kiss to your head Jeongguk pushed himself up and with one hand holding his cock, he rubbed it through your folds.

As he looked you in the eyes, you knew what was coming and nodded to show that you were still alright, and with that movement, he thrust inside of you. Your insides stretched to accommodate the sudden stretch, and your fingers dug into his shoulders due to the pain.

Jeongguk stayed completely still, although every part of him was begging to move, he waited patiently for you to feel comfortable and as your hips started to rock around him, he knew you were feeling better.

"Move and be quick about it. I'm so close," you muttered, your head leaning to the side, and as Jeongguk began to thrust into you, he used a hand to turn your face to him so he could kiss you. It was all teeth and nips, and it only made you rock your hips even faster desperately chasing you're high that seemed to close.

Jeongguk was similarly struggling to keep going, eventually using a spare arm to start rubbing your clit to make sure you felt as good as he was currently feeling and as a string of curses fell from your lips, he was happy to watch your writhe under him, walls clenching around his length until finally, with one loud moan of his name, your head kicked back and your walls fluttered around him, milking his cock for everything it had.

When you had finally stopped shaking, Jeongguk slipped his cock out of you, pulling the condom off. He suddenly felt unsure of himself as he sat up, fiddling with his hands as he waited for you to say something, finally, the silence began to worry him too much, "So want to that again or are we back to being friends?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jeongguk's head snapped up as he took in your blushed complexion, messy hair and bright smile as you looked at him, "This has to happen again."

Jeongguk rubbed the back of his head, suddenly slightly embarrassed by his lack of confidence, before stuttering, "want to date?" you laughed a 'yes' surprised he felt the need to ask and poked him with your foot before he quickly stood, walking to the towel and his monogrammed robe which was hanging up on a rack; an overly excessive request he had made, just so he could see you some more when you took his measurements and delivered it.

Jeongguk had just draped it over your figure, planting a kiss on your head with a smile before the door swung open to reveal Yoongi who was mid-sentence, "want to come out for a drink to celebrate the end of the tour?" He paused in the doorway, taking in your wide eyes, the items of clothing flung all over the floor and Jeongguk's form only wearing a pair of boxers and with a sigh, he rubbed his temples.

"Maybe you need to be celebrating something else, but next time can you try and keep it in your pants backstage."

If you enjoyed this, please do not hesitate to like, reblog and comment~

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shadow-emerald-gold · 6 years

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Flammens Mor: Prologue

What is this? A prologue? That’s right. Ya girl’s cooking something special, something for the holidays. I imagine this to be a long burner story with inspiration from all across the board so grab some popcorn. As I stated in my previous post, I am not one for context so this prologue will most likely seem a bit out of place currently and I’m not even going to tell you what Flammens Mor means because it will become clear in the later chapters. Whoever does find out gets a clap. Now who is ready for another LOKI X READER STORY... Even though this prologue focusses on Frigga. BUCKLE UP KIDS! Gif is not mine.

Frigga was the beloved queen of the grand, golden realm of Asgard- the highest tier of Yggdrasil. She was everything an All-Mother should be; kind, gentle, spirited, fierce and well trained in the arts of battle, especially with blades and knives.

The Queen had seen so many lives pass her by as she continued to grow and bloom under the ever lasting sun of immortality. Friends came and went but their souls, their company, could never be truly replaced. Flowers bowed to her as she waltzed through her gardens, the tide calmed at her presence and any storm of Odin’s could be tamed by a simple kiss on the cheek from her tender lips. Hair of gold, waved and curled around her face. Eyes that would stir peace in any restless creature and hands that could only ever do good. As if Frigga was not lucky enough, she also raised two strong sons, one sharing her golden glow and the other kissed by the night’s shadows- Thor and Loki. All was right in the palace of Asgard… From the outside. None would ever consider her to harbour a deep regret that festered in her bones that caused them to quake in sorrow at the mere memory of her decision many decades ago.

She was young back then, a maiden betrothed to Odin, that was sheltered from the horrors that infected the grand Tree of Life outside of her home on Vanaheim. A gifted girl none the less in the magic of illusions that she often conjured to tease her sisters or father. Gleeful giggles would waft through the corridors, a sense of nostalgia to be remembered later, as the hems of dresses would brush against the stone, chiseled floors. Frigga adored her family although there was one she would always run to if her heart ached or she needed a genuine laugh. Elaria Swindlson was a simple stable girl that was entrusted to take care of Frigga’s own horse- Vår. She had a stunning caramel coat that glistened in the midday sun and a beautiful brown main that the young princess very much loved to braid. Elaria was nothing to her Father’s court but to Frigga she was like a sister; a twin. It was hard for the All-Mother to remember Elaria’s voice now. It was a fragment of a larger picture as even her face began to blur after the movement of time had begun to wash it away- eroding the weakening rock. Frigga could never recall how they became so close but it happened and she was ever thankful it did. They would ride out into the forests on Vår, chanting and singing, whilst picking wild berries as the wind whipped their hair about. Elaria was the more reserved one out of the two, ceasing to climb trees or cross streams without a proper path whilst Frigga gladly launched herself into the activities. Many lessons were learned that way. Frigga would let out a hearty chuckle. Then the day came when everything changed.

Fate had intertwined these two ladies together and so, sadly, it would also be the hands to pull them apart. On the day of Elaria’s birthday, it was announced that Frigga would soon travel to Asgard to remain with Odin until the day of their wedding. Her father had figured it right that they at least lived together a month before they were eternally bound so more ‘meaningful’ words could be exchanged than the ever dignified resolute manners of courtship a realm away. Frigga had begged for her friend to come along but it was Elaria that declared she had no place amongst the Gods and Valkyries. The woman was not nearly as beautiful as the future queen was and not as brave or passionate. No. The shimmering realm would suit her ill. They hugged. Frigga knew there were words but she had chosen to forget- forget and regret. They spent the day together riding, berry picking, talking and making the good old empty promises of youth until the sun was setting below the horizon.

“What do you think is going to happen now?” Elaria questioned, the warm, orange glow swamping her brown eyes.

“I do not know and… And I do not really wish to think about it.”

Frigga’s eyes were burning as she felt tears run down her rosy cheeks, creating little streams across her skin. Her lips trembled.

“You will write, won’t you?”

“Without a doubt, Ela.”

People always get in the way. Never make promises you cannot keep.

It had been over ten years since Frigga had last written a letter to her stable friend on her old realm. The people of Asgard were a demanding crowd that desired nothing but the throne’s attention- her attention. It continued to slip into the cracks of her mind until it became an unconscious reminder that only ever appeared in her dreams- a girl with a monotone voice, warm eyes and long, braided, greasy locks from labour. That was until one day, a few weeks after Odin had been crowned the new King of Asgard, a simple parchment of paper, delivered in the bent, black beak of a raven, did the young queen realise how much time had passed. The handwriting was a foreign stranger to her now as her eyes analysed every lick and curl within the words.

To the King and Queen of Asgard, It has long been since I have written to anybody outside of my own home in the ocean spray but I wish to congratulate you on your newfound roles amongst Asgard’s people. Lord Odin, I believe you to be a worthy King and I wish to come as soon as possible to negotiate our position in each other’s sights. I believe now is the time for peace. To my dearest, childhood friend, Frigga, I have missed you tragically that one could call myself love sick. I pray that the branches of Yggdrasil will somehow bring us back together. So much has changed. Sincerely, Elaria of Blackstone, Flammens Mor.

Short, sweet and to the point, just as she had always been. Frigga’s heart fluttered as her fingers felt the texture of the paper and traced the name. Elaria of Blackstone. A title… Had she married? Had she inherited land? The young queen was curious as answers were craved. However, there was one part that truly made her shudder, made her shake, made the All-Mother tremble. Flammens Mor. Elaria was no longer a stable girl… Elaria was no longer a normal woman.

Elaria was a mother too.

Frigga chose to look back no more.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki x reader #loki of asgard #frigga #asgard #marvel #multi chapter #vanaheim

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penelopelovesalvez · 6 years

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A lucky Night- Chapter 17

Here is Chapter 17 of my multi-chapter pic featuring characters I do not own from Criminal Minds, Alvez x Garcia, in a story of my own creation.

Chapters 1-16 can be found here: http://www.starslibrary.net/viewstory.php?sid=11960

I would recommend reading the earlier story. This chapter is the first that crosses the line from suggestive to smut, if that’s not your thing then skip it.

Warning: This is definitely a chapter centered on smut. 18+, NSFW. Also, it is a long chapter 4k+ words, sorry. Didn’t want to break in the middle of the “Action” ya know? Also, I’ve never written smut before so if it is awful, apologies.

Contains: Adult consensual sex, rough sex, unprotected sex

Please feel free to re-blog and review! Please ask for permission before posting on any other platform.

Penelope looked up at Luke, her heart racing. Suddenly shy, she ducked her head -only for Luke’s hand on her chin to tilt it back up so he could look her in the eyes. “Querida… beloved. I think we were just… about… here…” he said, punctuating each word with a soft kiss to her lips. He pulled back, searching her face for… something. “Penelope, if you’re not ready… or you have changed your mind…” he said, sighing heavily, his voice trailing off.

Penelope raised a finger to his lips, shushing him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and reaching up on tiptoes she pressed her lips to his. Before either could deepen the kiss, she moved her mouth to his neck just below his ear. She kissed and licked down his neck, to his collarbone and across his jaw. The rasp of his slight stubble across her lips sent electric tingles coursing through her. Returning her lips to his, this time she kissed him passionately, frantically. She opened, allowing his tongue to intertwine with hers as he thrust into her mouth. Her fingers scratched across his shoulder blades before returning to grip his hair behind his head.

Luke pulled her even tighter against him, his hands gripping her bottom tightly. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she drank in the taste of him. He trailed a hand up her back, bringing his fingers to her neck, urging her head even further back. He commanded the kiss, taking control and increasing the intensity as she responded. She whimpered and gasped as he drew her lower lip into his mouth. He savored the sound of her moan as he bit down on her lip. She melted into him, yielding to his demanding hands.

She felt Luke pull back, but Penelope remained pressed tightly against his chest- her head tilted back, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, lips just slightly swollen. The pulse in her neck beating against her pale, porcelain skin was visible. Luke’s eyes darkened as he stared at her, taking in how gorgeous she looked. A few moments later she forced herself to look at him, opening her eyes with a flutter of her lashes. She could hear the heavy beating of her heart and the sharp sound of each heavy breath as she panted. She was so hot for him, so ready. Why is he pausing? Does he truly think I don’t want this?

Before Luke could say another word, she brought her hands up to his chest. Starting at the collar of his burgundy shirt, she began undoing the buttons. “Luke, I spent a lot of time keeping you at arm’s length. As determined as I was to keep my guard up, you- my handsome, sexy warrior- were more determined. So why would we wait any longer, mi amor? We already have a lot of lost time to make up for,” she said, unbuttoning the final button on his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders.

“That we do,” he agreed. “Penelope, I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. I’ve been tested and I am clean, just so you know. I also have condoms if we need to use them or you want to use one,” he said. Penelope blushed ducking her head against his chest, grateful he’d brought it up. It’s nice to know that he hadn’t been with other women recently. “I’m clean as well. It’s been… a while. I’m not currently on birth control, but at my age and with my history- it’s rather unlikely. I’ve never conceived before, even when not trying to prevent pregnancy with a previous partner,” she finished, looking back up at his face. “So, we don’t need to use a condom.”

Why’s he looking at me so intently? I hate condoms, I’m glad we don’t need it. But maybe I shouldn’t have reminded him that I’m getting old, too old to give him a family. Before Penelope could even wonder what had made him look so serious, Luke dipped his head and kissed her fiercely, making her head spin.

Penelope brought her hands to his chest, trailing them down his chest to the chiseled plain of his stomach. Her nails grazed his washboard abs, and Luke hissed sharply. She caressed his skin, marveling at the softness of his skin and the firm muscles of his stomach, chest, shoulders and biceps. She couldn’t believe that this perfect- literally perfect- sculpted god of a man wanted her. It is like every fantasy I’ve had since I was a horny teenager is coming true. From his movie star smile, to his golden, gleaming skin- he’s mouth-wateringly hot. Add intelligence, humor, athleticism, honor and a heart of pure gold-he’s got the entire package. And, he is ALL mine… for now at least. Possessively she grazed a hand over his pec, squeezing the muscle. Her tongue darted out, swirling over his flat nipple. Pulling back, she brought her hands to the waist band of his slacks and looked up into his eyes with a suggestive smile and a raised eyebrow.

Penelope gasped excitedly as she saw Luke’s control snap. He pushed her back against the wall, his hands roaming over her curves as he kissed her neck. He flicked open the hooks of her top, baring the expanse of her lace-framed cleavage to his gaze. He bit down on her neck, sucking the flesh, causing her to moan appreciatively. With his right hand, he pinned her hands above her head as his left slid under the fabric of her bra to palm her nipple. He thrust his tongue into her mouth again, pinching her nipple in time to the movements of his tongue. He slid his leg between hers, nudging her knees apart.

“Damn, Chica. You get me so worked up. Let’s move this party to a more suitable location, Gorgeous. There will be plenty of time later for a raw, sweaty romp against and across every surface. But tonight, I want to make love to you in my bed,” he murmured. Bending, Luke picked Penelope up behind her knees and her back. He laughed as she batted at his chest, protesting that he shouldn’t carry her.

“Luke!” she squealed. “Put me down, I weigh too much for you to be hauling me around your house!” Luke threw his head back, laughing out loud. “Penelope Grace Garcia, settle down. You are indeed a luscious armful, but one I am more than equipped to handle. In every way,” he purred seductively. The tone of his voice literally caused her to gush- she was definitely wet and ready for him. Her nipples, already rather hard and sensitive after all the sexual tension of the day, were literally straining at the fabric of her bra. She needed his mouth or his hands, or both, on them now.

Luke continued, a smirk on his face as he told her, “I could walk half a mile carrying you like this, and still carry on a conversation. Chica, your body is generous for sure, but it is perfect to me. That’s why we’re such an impeccable match, because we are so well suited to meet each other’s needs,” he said, as he laid her on his bed. “By the end of the night you will have no doubts about what my body can do.

She arched her back, desperate for him to cover her with his body. She loved the way he called her ‘Chica’, the sound of it rolling off his lips causing a feeling that was warm, satisfied and aroused all at once. She loved looking up and seeing him so aroused that the fabric of his pants might literally pop open on its own. He was so turned on, looking down at her sprawled on his bed like a present waiting to be unwrapped, he might just bust his zipper! “Luke, Babe… please…” she whimpered, reaching towards him, her eyes pleading for him to join her. “Please.. I… I…I need you. I want you Luke, please.”

Luke shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him. He swiftly unbuttoned and yanked off his pants, hissing as the fabric brushed roughly against his bulging erection. He bent down, pulling Penelope’s skirt off, and peeling the garters and stocking from her thighs. Bending over, he ran his tongue along the slight, red indent where her stockings had bit slightly into the creamy, tender flesh of her plump thighs.

Penelope moaned at the feel of his hot, wet tongue rasping against her thigh. Luke’s hand soon joined his mouth, massaging the supple flesh of each thigh. Penelope’s back arched and her hands clung to his shoulders to keep herself upright as he moved his mouth higher, making his way up her thigh. When he reached the edge of her panties, he hauled in a breath. Sliding his fingers inside the delicate, black lace he gripped the fabric and slowly peeled them down her thighs to reveal her very perfectly waxed and trimmed pussy. He inhaled sharply, seeing her creamy skin with only the tiniest swath of trimmed hair on either side of her slit.

Penelope blushed as he stared at her. “I… I hope you like it. I umm… I asked the masseuse if they offer waxing. I normally just ladyscape for myself but I just… I wanted to be prepared in case we… well, in case we were intimate. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had sex so…” she stammered. She looked up at his face- he was still staring intently.

Luke licked his lips, groaning. “Chica, if I liked it anymore I’d be finishing before we even started. You’re killing me woman,” he growled. Penelope giggled as he resumed removing her panties, now yanking them swiftly down her legs- all previous patience exhausted.

Penelope’s giggle transformed into a gasp as she felt Luke’s fingers probe at her opening. Her head fell back again, her eyes drifting close as she savored the feel of his large hand parting her slick folds. She felt her bra spring open and fall from her- apparently the man can multitask.

Penelope shivered as the cool air hit her sensitive, already-hard nipples. Luke’s hand covered her breast, kneading the flesh and then rolling her nipple firmly between his fingers, as the fingers of his hand on her pussy found her clit. “Oooh, oh!” Penelope squealed as his fingers pressed against her sensitive button. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails biting into his flesh. He circled the nub once, twice, three times before inserting one then two fingers into her. He moved his two fingers in and out of her slowly as her hot, tight opening clenched around him.

“God, Chica. You are so wet for me. And so, so tight sweetheart. I can’t wait to push inside you, to feel you take me deep as I stretch you open wide,” he growled against her ear, letting his teeth scrape against her earlobe before dipping his head to bite her shoulder.

Penelope didn’t even know it was possible, but the filthy words Luke was speaking sent a new flood of slick moisture pouring from her needy opening. Oh my God, I can’t wait any longer. She gasped as he rotated his hand, using his thumb to insistently rub her clit as he kept thrusting his fingers inside her. Her abdomen clenched tight and she could already feel her orgasm rising. Rotating her hips slightly, she clamped down on his hand with her thighs. If he kept this up she was going to cum. Oh God, I need him inside me now. “Please... Luke…” she begged.

“Chica, lay back now,” he commanded, removing his hand from her dripping opening. He reached inside his boxers, spreading her slickness along his hard erection as he watched her. Her golden hair fanned out across his plaid, flannel pillows. Her legs fell open, and he could see her wetness glistening as it coated her upper thighs. “Chica, some other time I’m going to stand here while I watch you pleasure yourself. I’m going to watch you bring yourself to orgasm as you plunge your soft, perfectly manicured fingers in and out of your own pussy. But not tonight,” he said, still palming his cock.

“Tonight, I’m going to be the one who makes you scream. From the first time I saw you, I imagined your thighs gripping me as I plunged into you, your gorgeous breasts bouncing above me as I rode you. It didn’t take long after I joined the team to realize how amazing you are and that I was falling for you,” he said, slowly stroking himself beneath his boxers one more time, before finally shoving them down and stepping out of them.

Penelope gasped as he released his very hard erection for her to see at last. No, no way. I mean, I’ve never even seen one so thick or large in real life. He may well kill me… but… at least I will die of ecstasy…

“Chica, it only took one glimpse of that delicious body for me to want you. You are absolutely delectable to me and I am going to prove to you before the night is over that I crave every last inch of you,” he said, climbing onto the bed.

Penelope couldn’t take her eyes off of him- his cock was gorgeous but it was also several inches larger than she’d ever experienced. She felt his hands on her calves, pulling her legs apart and pushing her thighs up and back, baring her opening to his gaze. “Luke?” she whispered hesitantly, clutching his forearms… “Like I said, it’s been a while and even then… none of my previous partners… I mean, in comparison, you’re so…” she stuttered, tearing her gaze from the massive head poised just above her opening.

Luke chuckled, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a predatory smirk. “Oh, don’t you worry about that Chica. I have every confidence that you will be able to take every last inch of me. You might be tight, but your body is insatiable. I’m going to have you screaming for sure… and if I’m right, even begging,” he laughed, leaning down to take her lips in bruising kiss. He thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth.

Penelope moaned around his tongue as she felt the head of his cock bump against her clit. Luke dipped his fingers into her opening again, stretching her walls before he withdrew his hand and lubed his length with her slickness again. She felt the tip of him nudging against her opening, and she tried to relax. Looking down, she marveled at the erotic sight of his thick erection parting her and slowly sliding into her small, tight opening.

“Uggghhh, you feel sooo good, Chica,” he groaned as the head slipped inside her. He moved a hand up to flick her nipple, enjoying the mewling sounds she was making as he slowly pushed himself into her hot, slick opening. “That’s it baby, watch how you stretch around me. God, that’s the sexiest sight to watch your pussy take my cock. You’re squeezing me so tight baby,” Luke groaned as he slowly slid himself into her inch by inch.

Penelope threw her head back, trying to absorb the mind-blowing sensation of feeling him stretch her wide as he continued slowly pushing his way into her. Fuck! I’ve never felt so full in my life. Penelope lifted her hips, needing… something. She needed him to go faster, or harder… she needed.. friction. The impossibly full sensation is building into a desperation for fulfillment, for release. And with the sound of his rough, lustful voice dripping sexy, filthy encouragements… I’m going to explode.

Penelope thrust against him, encouraging him to fully penetrate her. She scratched his shoulders, begging for him to stop torturing her. Hearing his groan and feeling him twitch inside her, she purred in pleasure. Leaning forward, she licked his lips and plunged her tongue into his mouth.

“Greedy girl,” Luke chuckled. “You ready baby? If you want all of it, you’re going to have to ask nicely,” he said, slowing his entry into her and dipping his head to take her nipple into his mouth.

Penelope arched her back, pressing her nipple into his mouth. Running her hands down the muscles of his back, she marvelled at how hot his skin was beneath her hands. She gripped the sculpted muscles of his ass, pulling his hips into her and digging her nails into his toned glutes to try and spur him on.

“Please, please babe. Oh God, Luke, I need you to… I need you so bad. I want all of it Luke, I want all of you to fill me… I need… I need to feel all of you… to have all of you… Please, please give it to me Luke. Make me take it all,” she begged, her lips moving against the skin of his neck as she pressed her face into him to hide the flush of embarrassment at admitting such things.

Luke sat up, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head. She didn’t know how he knew that she loved to be pinned. He withdrew steadily until just the tip remained inside her. The empty feeling was so unbearable. She tried to arch her back and bring her hips to meet his, struggling to try and push herself back onto his length. He laughed at her frustrated attempts to clench down on him and keep him from withdrawing. As she watched him look down at her laying below him, hands pinned above her head and thighs spread wide to accommodate him, she felt absolutely wanton. And the way he licked his lips made her feel so incredibly gorgeous. Now if he’d just give me what I need!

With a flex of his hips, he pushed forward steadily. He threw his head back and groaned as she clenched tight around him. He finally began to push forward, and Penelope panted, staring at the place where inch after inch of him was pressing into her. He reached between them to tap her clit, and she heard the sound of her startled gasp as she shuddered around him and whimpered.

Penelope felt him go deeper than he had on the first stroke, and she started to wonder if she really would be able to fit all of him. There were still two more inches before he was fully sheathed within her, and the pleasure she felt now seemed nearly painful. As Luke began to push even further in, Penelope pushed against his shoulder. “You’re too big, you’re just too big Luke,” she whimpered, throwing her head back.

Luke growled, moving his hand from her wrists down to pinch her nipples harshly. His other hand, which had been circling her clit now flicked at her. The sensation of both pleasure and pain was incredibly overwhelming.

“Chica, you are tight and you are tiny, but you feel amazing. And when I bottom out inside you it’s going to feel incredible. You can, and you will take it all Chica. Because I told you to, now be a good girl and cum on my cock,” he growled, flicking her clit one last time while pinching her nipple hard.

The combination of both pleasure and pain is something I’ve never experienced, never known I would want, no.. need. Oh my God! Penelope’s orgasm exploded, tearing through her. She screamed out, “Luuuukkeee, ohhhhh I’m cummmming Luuuukkkkeee!” as the waves of pleasure were washing over her. The feeling was intensified as she felt his hands grip her hips tightly. Holding her still as the pleasure swept over her and her puss contracted, Luke pushed himself fully inside her in one firm, determined stroke. The feeling of him fully stretching her wide- all ten inches of his hard, thick cock enveloped by her hot, wet pussy was too much and she literally orgasmed a second time right on the heels of the first.

Luke remained still, holding her hips so tight she’d probably have bruises. As the orgasm subsided, Penelope looked up at him. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his neck were tense with the effort it took him to not cum with her. “Luke...” she whispered, lifting a hand to brush a curl out of his face. He turned his head, pressing a kiss into her palm.

“Are you ready, Baby?” he asked, his voice thick with desire. Penelope nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him passionately. “Take me, Luke. I’m yours,” she said against his lips, continuing the kiss.

Luke thrust his tongue into her mouth, his hands pulling her legs to wrap around his waist as he plunged in and out of her opening. Penelope held on tightly, allowing him to consume her mouth and her pussy. His thrusts were deep, hard and fast. Penelope couldn’t been believe it was possible after cumming twice just a few moments ago, but she felt the pleasure building again. The feeling of him rubbing over her g spot at the top of each stroke, followed the feeling of him bottoming out was amazing. She was filled so full, stretched so good. Every time he slammed back into her, it stimulated her clit. Her toes curled, and she was fairly sure even her scalp tingled. Just when she thought Luke would increase the tempo and send them both over the edge, he pulled out of her.

“Stand up, Penelope,” he ordered her in a stern voice. Penelope blinked, then quickly followed his instruction. He turned her toward the bed, pushing firmly between her shoulder blades until she was bent slightly forward, her hands gripping the tall post of the headboard. Luke placed a hand behind one knee, drawing it up and bending it to kneel on the bed. He nudged her foot, encouraging her to open to give him access. She was nearly on her tiptoes, in order to accommodate her knee being on the high mattress. He stepped up behind her, a hand reaching to her hip to adjust the angle as he entered her from behind. Unlike earlier, where he had slowly penetrated her, this stroke was swift and sure. In one fluid motion that took no more than a few seconds, he slid the entirety of his hard length all the way into the hilt.

Penelope screamed in pleasure, arching her back as he bottomed out and his hand gripped her breast. He pounded into her from behind, one hand kneading her breast while the other was fisted in her hair, pulling her head back. Penelope held tight to the headboard, her senses reeling from the erotic feeling of her hair being pulled as his flesh slapped into hers. Each short thrust was hard and fast, and she was continually moaning.

“Penelope”, Luke panted. “I’m… close...” he said, punctuating each word with a hard thrust of his hips. “You.. will… cum… with me…” he ordered her, his voice demanding and rough.

Penelope’s orgasm was building, it was close. She thrust one delicate hand between her legs, swirling her fingers across her over-sensitized clit as quickly as she could.

“I.. I’m about to… cum… Luke. Sooo… close…” she panted. “Oooohhhh….”she moaned.

Luke pulled back harder on her hair, withdrawing nearly entirely from her before thrusting hard into her once, twice. Just before he thrust for the third and final time, he growled, “Now, chica” and bit down on her shoulder as he came inside her.

Penelope was overwhelmed by everything all at once: the sound of his rough, dominating voice, the feel of Luke’s hot cum shooting into her, the sharp sting of his teeth, the pleasurable burn of his fingers pinching her nipple, the tingling of her scalp from where he’d pulled her hair, and the rapid flutter of her fingers on her clit. The sensatsion of her orgasm exploded over her. She came on him, hard, clenching down on his cock and milking ever last drop from him.

Luke thrust lightly once or twice more, groaning as her tight, sweet pussy spasmed around him. He licked her shoulder, smoothing the bruised flesh he’d just bit. His strong hands wrapped around her, holding her firmly against his chest as he felt her melt as she came down. He withdrew from her with a flex of his hips. Gently, Luke turned her around, pulling her down off the mattress. She faced him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, entangling her tongue with his.

Luke rubbed his hands up and down her back, soothing her as he swirled his tongue around her mouth. “Penelope,” he whispered. “That was absolutely incredible. You were… you are… everything I could ever want. I’m sorry if that was too…”

Before he could continue, she smacked his shoulder. “No, no you don’t mister. You are not ruining the best sex of my life with some stupid apology. The only thing that was “too” about tonight was that it took us “too long” to get here. I’m kicking myself for spending weeks calling you Newbie and giving you crap when I could have been calling out your name as I came on your gorgeous, perfect cock,” she said boldly, only blushing slightly as talking so plainly about sex wasn’t usually her style but somehow this man made her feel both daring and also extremely comfortable.

“Chicaaaaaa,” he groaned. “You’re gonna have to cool it with the dirty talk if you’re not ready to come hard again fairly soon,” he said, grinning down at her shocked expression.

“Again?! Already?!” she gasped, shocked. She took a tiny step back and Luke laughed out loud.

“Don’t be afraid, baby. I’ll let you rest… at least long enough to make me a sandwich first,” he said, smirking at her shocked expression and punctuating his statement with a wink.

Penelope flopped down onto the bed. “There’s no way I’m doing anything right now that’s not cuddling. You may be a sex god of unending stamina, but we mere mortals require recovery time. And water,” Penelope whined in a semi-serious, semi-teasing tone.

Luke looked her up and down. “Sex god, I like it. I’ve been needing a new nickname now that I’m not the Newbie. Sex god it is. Make sure to use it while we’re on cases, I want everyone to know that I’m keeping my woman damn satisfied,” he drawled, laughing when she rolled her eyes.

“I would be an awful boyfriend if I let you die of thirst, so I will fetch the water and the sandwich. But don’t fall asleep while I’m gone, I want that cuddling you offered,” he said over his shoulder as he left the room.

Penelope stretched out on the bed, a delirious smile on her face. Ugh, the man probably wasn’t going to let her sleep before dawn. Mmmm, I can’t wait.

@itsdawnashlie

#criminalminds #criminalmindsfanfic garvez #Garcia x Alvez #Garvez

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winedwords · 7 years

Text

Finn| Into Your Arms |Bálor

Title; Into Your Arms

Pairing; Finn Bálor/Reader

Word Count; 5523

Summary; If it’s just a game, then I like the way that we play.

Warnings; NSFW. Body painting leading to smut. Smut for smut’s sake. Here be no plot. Latex free.

A/N: repost from the old blog

If there was one thing I hated most about my chosen and beloved profession, it was cleaning my airbrush gun and brushes before each body painting session.

Cleanliness was next to godliness and I was practically divine, cleaning all the tools of my trade before and after each session. My back ached from being hunched over a sink for hours, my cuticles and palms dry and cracking from cleaning solution, and feet terribly sore from being on them all day. My thoroughness and attention to detail in every aspect of my career had served me well and had landed me my current position.

Makeup artists were a dime a dozen these days, with everyone with some cheap brushes, a neutral eyeshadow palette, and an iPhone claiming the title. It was a disservice to those of us who literally starved for the opportunity to assist more established artists, who had to decide between spending the money on purchasing items for the kit or paying rent. I put in my time and paid my dues, assisting and learning from award winning artists, landing small gigs that didn’t pay, to finally getting a contract for a television show and working a Fashion Week.

The WWE was just a new challenge.

I had joined the Glam Squad three months ago when one of their girls went on maternity leave and they were desperate for someone who was proficient in airbrush and body painting. I got along famously with the others, after a few days of initial awkwardness and tension. We had all cut our teeth in the industry and there is a certain degree of professional jealousy that taints every relationship, but this felt more like family. The camaraderie was there, it had to be, since we traveled like nomads across the world, never staying in one place too long.

I was the first one at the arena, and for good reason.

It was another pay per view, which meant I needed to be at the arena obscenely early to prepare for body painting.

I found the dressing room to be used for the artists easy enough, the gophers having gotten to the arena just before me and they had set up our stations. Now it was just myself, the soft sounds of a random Pandora station, and thoughts of my muse.

Finn Bálor.

He’d essentially given me free reign, after the first couple of sessions, with his body painting. He’d entrusted me with making him look badass and let my creativity run free. That feeling was addictive, especially after doing nothing but a smoky eye and flawless skin on women who were already flawless.

He though… he was perfection personified. Brilliant blue eyes, a wide smile, sharp jaw line, and what seemed to be negative body fat, every muscle sharply defined against his pale skin. He genuinely appeared to be carved out of marble and given his predilection for almost too tight tailored suits combined with his affectionate gestures for other male superstars, I had some questions about his preferences. Okay, some questions was an understatement, when in reality he could just have been living up to the reputation of being European.

I chuckled to myself and shook my head. Glancing back down, I realized I had been cleaning the same makeup sponge for a solid five minutes and the material was starting to shred. I made a face and grumbled, before pushing the now ruined egg shaped sponge into the trash can rather violently.

There was twenty dollars down the drain because I was busy thinking about my very possibly gay male fantasy.

“God fuckin’ damn it. I need to go buy more fuckin’ sponges.”

Someone cleared their throat behind me and I nearly jumped out of my skin, whirling around with a hand pressed to my heart to see the tall Irishman that had interrupted my thoughts. He was just standing there with his hands in his pockets, a silly grin on his face.

“Should I come back later?”

I frowned and shook my head. “No, no, it’s fine. What are you doing here? We don’t have to start painting until eleven.”

His grin pulled just a fraction wider and he glanced down at his phone. “Yeah, I have the paintin’ session at eleven, but it’s half past already. I apologize fer bein’ late.”

My mouth dropped into a perfect o, my brain working rapidly to try to recollect my schedule. “Oh shoot, I’m sorry, I lost track of time.”

Finn laughed, his face lighting up. “Oh no, darlin’ it’s fine. It’s m'fault for bein’ late and ye seemed pretty absorbed in cleanin’ yer brushes.”

I waved off his words, already beginning to arrange the alcohol based body paints on the table that would serve as my work station.

“It’s all okay Finn. I was just about ready for you anyway. You know the drill.”

Finn chuckled and unzipped his hooded sweartshirt to reveal his bare, broad chest. My mouth went dry and I had to look away quickly with a cough, grabbing at my brush belt, nearly knocking over my carefully arranged set up.

Finn’s expression was simultaneously amused and unreadable, the flicker of heat that I caught on his face making me feel suddenly self conscious. As quick as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving me to think it was just a figment of my imagination. My face flushed as he pulled his sweats low enough to be dangerous, the smooth flesh of his pelvis exposed to my suddenly too hungry eyes.

I gave the barest shake of my head, trying to clear out the rapidly forming unprofessional thoughts. As the tall Irishman was sorting himself out and getting comfortable for the hours long painting session, I pulled my hair up into a sloppy ponytail to get it out of my face. I was fussing with the spray bottles of alcohol and strapping on my brush belt, the weight of his eyes on me the entire time.

I was dressed almost too comfortably to be professional, hastily applied makeup that had been put on in a compact, and my hair, though now in a ponytail, was only finger combed this morning. A quick glance in one of the mirrors along the wall had let me know that there was nothing out of the ordinary on my face. What could he possibly be looking at?

The possibility that he was looking at me flitted across my mind, but I dismissed that thought as soon as it had come. I was being ridiculous. Even if he was straight, there was no way he would look in my direction. We were surrounded day in and day out by ridiculously beautiful women, let alone the women who hung around after the shows and in the hotel lobbies who were hoping to warm the talent’s bed for the night. Finn was sweet and well mannered, but an incorrigible flirt if the rumors about Japan were true.

I sprayed a large fan brush with alcohol and swirled over the black cream makeup, before turning to face Finn. I don’t know why I had a slight tremor in my hands or why every nerve ending in my body was on edge. I had done this exact same process with Finn multiple times, so was I all out of sorts now?

“Ready?”

Finn stretched his neck to the left, then the right before nodding while turning his back to me to start painting.

“’m always ready darlin’.”

I hesitated for just the briefest of moments, my heart skipping a beat. Nope, he totally wasn’t making a sexually laced flirtatious comment in my direction. I was just imagining things and clearly needed some quality time with my battery operated boyfriend. I mentally shook it off, before beginning the outline of the demon eye that I had sketched out a couple of nights previously. My mouth went a little dry as I watched the well defined muscles of his back flutter, tense, and jump under the bristles of my brush.

“Dunno why yer brush is always cold. Can’t they make this stuff warmer?”

I giggled.

“Unfortunately not, Finn. It’s hard to keep alcohol warm in spray bottles. And you know it gets worse once I fire up the airbrush machine.”

He groaned playfully, before the two of us fell into a companionable silence. For well over twenty minutes, the only sounds in the room were the soft notes from whatever song Pandora was playing, the spraying of alcohol into the cake makeup, and the bristles of the brushes gliding along skin.

I always started low on his back, being a full head shorter than him. It was just easiest to start there and work up, when I would eventually need a step stool to reach his broad shoulders and onto the sensitive skin of Finn’s neck. He truly did look like his body was carved by one of the Renaissance masters, all milky smooth skin and chiseled muscle. Predictably, my mind went wandering to places where it shouldn’t be and wondering what his skin would feel like underneath my fingers…

“Y'know, every time ye do this, I almost want ta go ta sleep. It’s relaxin’.”

His voice interrupted my thoughts and I flushed, my brush never faltering. I kept my eyes low, trying to focus on the line work, when I noticed it.

He was crouching to make it easier for me to paint his back. I took the smallest of steps back.

“Finn, you don’t have to crouch. I have a step stool for a reason.”

He snorted, almost incredulously.

“Ye’ve been helpin’ me out wit this for… four months now? And yer just now noticin’ that I’m crouchin’?”

I couldn’t help myself, the giggle that snuck out was a little high pitched and flirtatious.

“Oh I’ve noticed before. I just didn’t care enough to let you have it easy.”

I could feel the grin in his voice as he clucked his tongue against his teeth.

“What’ve I ever done to ye, (Y/N)?”

I exaggerated a sigh, before playfully quipping back.

“The mere fact you exist, Finn.”

The Irishman barked out a laugh, “Ye cannot just leave me hangin’ like that, what’s the real reason?”

I was thankful that his back was to me, because I’m almost positive that my face was doing its best imitation of a tomato.

“I get a lot of messages from the female friends and family members who watch RAW. I don’t hear the end of it.”

He snorted, “And here I thought it was because of the Twin Terrors.”

I froze, the angled brush motionless on his skin, before I shifted on my feet. I looked at the back of his head curiously.

“The Twin Terrors?”

Finn shrugged and he glanced back over his shoulder to meet my eyes. “Marie and Lauren in wardrobe.”

I made a face and pressed my lips together tightly.

“I have nothing to say about them.”

How he picked up on what I thought was well disguised distaste for the two women who made up wardrobe, I don’t know. I’d never heard them called the Terror Twins, that was relatively PG compared to the epithets others on the Glam Squad called them. Why did Finn even bring them up? I kept to myself backstage, so I never really paid attention when they were fawning over him, especially when it seemed that he enjoyed their attentions.

I didn’t pay him any attention.

At all.

Ever. I swear.

He shrugged again and his mouth pulled into an almost childlike smile, that for some reason came off as incredibly sexy. I was sure that any red blooded woman, and some men, would have that the same as well.

I blinked rapidly and went back to painting the flesh of his back. It was a few minutes of brush strokes, the blending of colors, complete with the marveling at the way his muscles jumped, and a long, loaded silence before I caved.

“The objection I have to them, is the same objection I have with all women that act like that. It’s not because they’re paying attention to you.”

He was silent for a moment, tension flooding his shoulders.

“Oh…”

I could have sworn that I detected the barest hint of sadness in his accented voice after I said that, but it could have been just my imagination playing tricks on me. He was flirting with me like he flirted with everyone, male or female, backstage. The time I had spent around him had led me to believe that he flirted with the same ease that he breathed, it was just natural to him. It was that flirtation, combined with the accent and smile, and Finn could quite literally charm the pants off of anyone and they wouldn’t know what had happened until Finn was back in Ireland.

I swapped brushes and colors, setting about coloring in the fangs of the demon I was painting onto the Irishman’s back. I had knelt down to paint along the small of his back, my neck and back having tired from hunching over. It was a few minutes of complete silence between the two of us, Pandora still chirping away, when he sighed and a low chuckle rumbled through him. That chuckle was like a jolt of electricity to the juncture between my thighs. The rumbling and short laugh was incredibly seductive and laden with heady intentions.

I glanced at him curiously, expecting to only see the back of his head, but instead I was met with bright eyes and his trademark grin. I was woman enough to admit that Finn’s smile, no Finn’s everything really, affected me in decidedly not professional ways. He affected me in ways that almost always ensured that I needed a cold shower or at the very least, would strike me dumb for a solid minute.

“What?” I muttered, looking back down to my work as I swirled red in strategic places of the demon’s mouth.

“Oh, nothin’,” he mumbled. He took a breath and continued, “I was jus’ thinkin’ that you’ve spent hours on yer knees fer me and I haven’ even taken ye ta dinner.”

My face was radioactively hot and I could practically feel the tips of my ears sizzle at his words. Something was wrong. Finn was an unrepentant flirt and an incorrigible charmer, but never had I heard him be so vulgar. There had always been innuendo, most certainly, but he had never been so forward.

And than… It struck me like a bolt of lightning. Did he really mean to ask me out? We barely knew each other, having only made small talk while he was essentially held captive for body painting.

And I still pretty sure he was not interested in women.

“Aren’t ye goin’ ta say somethin’?”

I glanced back up at him, before straightening up to my full height and turning to my supply table, with every intention of hiding my burning face. Even at my full height, I would have only reached his collarbones. On my tiptoes, I would have been able to see over his shoulder or maybe even speak into his ear. I was painfully aware of how large he was in comparison to me, and how easy it would have been for him to overpower me… If he was that kind of man. My gut and observations told me he wasn’t, he was never anything but respectful.

“What do you want me to say?”

He turned to face me, but I was still making every attempt to hide my face in order to try to cool the flush on my face.

“Oh goodness Finn, I thought ye’d never ask!”

His attempt at an American accent was miserable, yet endearing.

I sighed, picking up the white body paint and yet another brush, before turning around to get back to the job at hand. Too bad that I was struck dumb by how quietly Finn had been able to move towards me, within an arms distance, without me noticing and the way his abdominal muscles practically rippled. Any progress that had been made on cooling the flush on my face was all for naught, as I did my best impression of a tomato.

“Why’re ye blushin’?” he inquired.

I looked up to make direct eye contact, my face burning. His eyes were searching mine rather intensely, looking for something that I wasn’t quite sure of.

“Ye’re never this quiet,” he remarked.

I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, like I wasn’t just thinking about the heavy, blatant innuendos and what he could have possibly meant. “Maybe I’m having an off day?”

His eyebrow raised so high, I could have sworn it disappeared into his hair line. “Every single time’ve come in here fer the paintin’, ye’ve talked m'ear off about somethin’ or another. And now ye won’t say anythin’ and ye’re doing a pretty good impression of a cherry. What’s goin’ on darlin’?”

Had I really been so talkative? My stomach roiled uncomfortably at the thought. My mind flashed to all of our previous sessions at a dizzying speed, and it was true, every time I had been around him in the past, I had babbled. I don’t know what it was about today, but it was different. The words that would have previously rushed out of my mouth were now no longer there.

‘Or… You’re afraid that if you open your mouth today, you’ll say something that’ll embarrass the shit out of you.’ That dark little thought came unbidden to my mind.

“Don’t take it that ’m complainin’,” he said. “I mean, I like listenin’ to ye talk. I find yer American accent relaxin’.”

I frowned for a moment, before stepping forward and painting a broad stripe across his collarbone. Just like any other time when I had painted him, he shuddered as my brush glided over his skin in this particular area, but Finn never said anything about it. It was… Curious. I noticed it happen every time I painted in the areas of his collarbones, chest, and neck, but I had brushed it off. I had thought that it was maybe just a ticklish reaction and not the thing that the tiny, horny voice in my mind wanted it to be.

It was after the second or third stroke of my brush and the corresponding full body shudder, that I had noticed that the feeling in the room had changed.

“O-okay,” I stuttered, having decided that I needed to get away from him for a few moments, just long enough to collect myself. I began to pull away when he reached out for me, catching my elbow in a large, calloused hand. Sparks danced underneath my skin where his hand was, and he spun me back around to face him.

Before I could regain my ground, his lips were on mine.

At least, that’s what I was pretty sure that was what was occurring.

I was already dizzy from being spun around, and now this kiss was making me dizzier. The moment our lips had touched, there was a tingling, thrilling electric surge that shot through my body. Finn was possessive at first, claiming my mouth, an arm wrapped around my waist in an iron grip. It felt like he was trying to make me understand something, just by using his mouth. Slowly, after several moments of our mouths working feverishly against each other, the pressure of his mouth on mine lessened, and he pulled back slightly.

His eyes were searching my face for something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it, as I was in a daze. My legs felt like there were made of rubber and I desperately needed something to hold onto for support.

Definitely not gay. Definitely appeared to be attracted to women.

Okay, so he wasn’t gay. European. Only European.

I blinked owlishly, trying to clear the cobwebs from my mind, as he stood motionless in front of me, his mouth still only a breath away from my own and his arm still tight around my waist. I was confused and ridiculously turned on all at the same time. I was most certainly viewing Finn in a new light, one that I was able to admit to in the light of day and not just when I was alone at night.

“Um, wow.”

Well that was brilliant and eloquent.

He just chuckled, his eyes bright, and shook his head. “Let’s get this finished so that we can make plans for dinner tongiht.”

“Who said I accepted?”

The shift from lightheartedness to dark and predatory was faster than a blink. Before I knew what was happening, Finn was kissing me again. Just the same as mere moments ago, but this time, he was kissing me thoroughly until I was convinced. This time though, when he began to pull away a second time, I reached an arm around to keep him securely in place so that the kiss wouldn’t end. It didn’t take much strength, because he clearly didn’t want to leave the embrace either. His other arm dropped lower than the one that was wrapped around my waist, grazing daringly against my butt.

I grazed my teeth against his lower lip and his fingers curled into the clothed flesh of my butt in response, before pressing me firmly into his body and holding me in place. It was there that I could feel the rather impressive evidence of his arousal and I was lost. It had been quite some time since I had been with a man and my body was screaming for this kind of attention. That it was Finn, in all of his Adonis-like glory, made the heat pool dangerously fast between my legs.

Curious as to his reaction, I slid my hand between our bodies, running it down his bare chest as my brushes had done so many times before, and he stopped our kiss. Instead, he watched the trail of my hand, both of our chests heaving in tandem as my hand traveled still lower, almost of its own accord, stopping at the waist of his joggers. I looked up at him, the question clear on my face.

“Please don’t tease me darlin’.” His voice was strained and rough and I’ll be damned if it didn’t make my thighs clench together.

My mouth was a little dry as I ran my hand over the clothed bulge and grasped what I could. Impressive didn’t even begin to describe what Finn was clearly gifted with. The strangled moan that tore from his throat startled me and my eyes were wide as they shot to meet his half lidded ones. His lips were just barely parted and his pupils were so blown out from the sensations that only the tiniest sliver of blue was visible. That was all the cue I needed, running my fingers along the hard ridge a few times more.

He stopped me quite abruptly, his hands clasping my hips as he maneuvered me backwards. I was in a daze and not terribly oriented to my surroundings. My mind was a pink and lusty haze, and I most certainly was not thinking about where we actually were or the very, very real threat of someone walking in on us at any given moment.

The backs of my calves hit leather covered cushion and my question was answered. I had forgotten about the old leather couch that was pressed up against a wall in this locker room, but it was going to serve its purpose quite well.

There was no way he was backing out now.

Hopefully, he wasn’t just doing this to play with me.

His fingers slipped up underneath the hem of my shirt, not straying from my waist until they began lifting the shirt with their progress, mapping out the contours of my body. I mewled and shivering at his touch, it felt like he was leaving trails of fire across my skin, and Finn appeared to be satisfied with my reactions.

The shirt came off over my head and then it was thrown haphazardly somewhere within the room, and a perfect moment of clarity settled in my head, the lust induced haze lifting briefly. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away ever so minutely, and he paused the distractingly erotic way his fingers were tracing up my ribcage. He moved back, albeit reluctantly, a slightly worried and questioning look on his face.

I held up a finger, just to signal to him that he had to wait a minute. It also served the purpose of allowing me to regain my wits.

“We can’t smudge the paint.”

Relief blossomed across his eyes, the tension in his face relaxing.

“Oh. ’ve no problem with that at all darlin’.”

I giggled, and moments later he was completely naked, as he had made short work of his joggers are Armani boxer briefs. Why I knew and catalogued that information, I didn’t know. My eyes trailed down, and my mouth went dry. I wasn’t new to sex, but I could honestly say I had never seen a cock look beautiful, but I suppose it had to match the man it was attached to.

Without another thought, I reached out and wrapped my hand around the base, giving his length an experimental stroke. He inhaled sharply, his eyes dropping shut, and his hips stuttering at the touch. I grinned and released my grasp for just a moment. His eyes opened for a moment, until he saw me working my bra off of my shoulders and he was more than eager to assist in that venture. So eager in fact, he helped me to slide my panties off, pressing soft kisses to my hips and thighs, before sliding back up my body to press a fiery kiss to my mouth.

My hands were splayed over his chest, to stabilize myself as I was no longer sure that my knees would support my weight. A nip at my lower lip made my nails reflexively dig into the firm flesh of his chest and he moaned. The sound itself was sinful and sent another rush of liquid heat to the juncture between my thighs.

I stepped back again and switched our positions, so that he could sit on the edge of the couch, his back far from the cushions as to not smudge my work. The change of positioning was a great equalizer, as I didn’t feel so overwhelmed by him and the size of his body.

His arms were long enough to ensnare me again, pulling me down on top of him before I could gather my wits again fully. Finn’s hands went directly for my core, his long fingers curling up to press against the tight bundle of nerves found there. The bolt of pleasure that surged through my body left me breathless and ground into him, my eyes slipping shut and my hands finding purchase on his barely painted shoulders.

His hand slipped further down and I took the opportunity to grind into the heel of his hand, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough contact, enough friction, enough pressure. I knew what we both needed, as did Finn. I rearranged my position in his lap, straddling him in such a way that his cock rest along my inner thigh like a brand and my breasts in my face. His eyes glazed over in a way that if it were any other situation, would have been funny, but then his hands were suddenly there, cupping and teasing and pinching. The matter was settled, Finn was indeed a boob man.

He stopped in his attentions rather suddenly, gazing up at me with wide blue eyes.

He wanted me to make the next move. He wanted me to tell him that I wanted this.

And oh god, did I want this.

I shifted onto my knees and moved over him, his hands again on my hips, guiding his cock into me as I shifted my hips downwards.

I can honestly say that I had never felt anything so mind meltingly amazing or felt so full. I was stretched to the limit and neither the long groan that escaped from my lips as my hips met his or the way my head fell back in bliss could be helped. His lips found the sensitive skin of my neck, coaxing me to look back to his molten gaze. I began to move my hips, slowly at first, but his hands guided me to a pace that he was in control of, not allowing me to move any faster or slower than what he wanted. The dig of his fingers into the soft flesh of my hips should have hurt, but there was something erotic about the way he dictated the pace.

Everything in me wanted to go faster, to buck wildly, to chase my own release, but his grip stopped me from doing so. I leaned into him, kissing his mouth his lips again, in a vain attempt to distract him. My efforts failed, as his thumb slipped our moving bodies and stroked at the slick bundle of nerves just above where our bodies were connected, and white hot fire surged through my veins.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how far gone I was, and it only took a few flicks of his finger for me to be spiraling out of control. My fingers dug into his chest, leaving little half moon indentations. His hands circled behind my head, fingers lacing up into my hair, as he smoothly changed our positions while never breaking our contact, pinning my hips to the couch as he was crouched in position between my spread thighs.

With smooth movements, he began to move in and out of me with more force and speed than could possibly keep up with. I could feel a second release building, coiling tightly in the pit of my low abdomen.

It was only a matter of time before I was gasping my release again, my hips arching wildly. One of his large hands steadied me by resting on my lower stomach with the other on my thigh as his own body was wracked with shudders. He leaned over me, keening lowly into my ear. It was a most intoxicating mixture of a groan and grumble combined together.

We lay like that, in our post-coital haze, his body pressing into mine and his head cradled in between my neck and shoulder. It was as our bodies slowly began to calm and come down from the endorphin induced high, did the reality of the situation hit me.

“I’m confused… Y-you’ve never shown an interest in me before.”

He let out a huff of air that sounded suspiciously like a self-depreciating chuckle. “’ve been tryin’ to get ya to pay attention t'me since ye came on board months ago.”

I blinked rapidly, my heart stuttering in its rhythm at his words.

“But…”

Now that I thought about it, he was always within my line of sight when I arrived and hanging around the Glam Squad’s “office” when he really had no reason to be there. Whenever I say him, he was flirting heavily with the women that were almost always around him. Was it to make me jealous? I didn’t know, but the puzzle pieces were starting to fit together.

“Why me?”

“Because ye aren’t the Terror Twins.”

I craned my neck to look at him, though his face was nuzzling into the skin of my neck, I could have sworn I saw a grin. I thought I would have had something smart to say, but nothing came to mind. My head fell back into the worn leather cushion of the couch and I just listened to Finn’s steady breathing.

“Are ye goin’ t'have dinner with me now?” His question pulled me out of my sated, content haze.

I chuckled languidly, “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ we find a little twenty four hour diner after the show.”

I chuckled, “Oh be still, my beating heart.”

He laughed and pulled away to look at me. “I promise to take ye out proper later, but that’s all I got right now.”

I smiled and lifted my head to meet his twinkling blue eyes. “You throw in a coffee from Starbucks and I’m yours.”

“A coffee?” He was almost incredulous. “I coulda had ye months ago if I’d gotten ye a coffee?”

I laughed, and wiggled myself out from under him. I stood on shaky legs, to look for my clothes and give a small prayer that no one would walk into the locker room. It wasn’t until after I finished the body painting and we were preparing to leave that I noticed that the door had been locked and essentially barricaded from the inside.

Finn shrugged and didn’t look the least bit remorseful, even if he did hold his hands up defensively

I couldn’t bring myself to be upset.

#finn balor imagine #finn balor smut #finn balor fic #repost from the old blog

149 notes · View notes

shimadatales · 7 years

Note

ahh this one is a bit personal for me but could you do a hanzo/reader fic where the reader has cancer (non-terminal) and helping the reader cope and stuff? If its to negative please feel free to ignore

Of course I could do this one for you! I really hope I did it correctly though and that you like it. Please, if I made any mistakes, don’t hesitate to tell me as I wouldn’t want to write something wrong on accident and spread false information or offend you. I did it in HC form too, but if you want something different, you can say so as well. Lastly, I hope you are feeling well at the moment and wish you all the good health in the future

- Thearcher would be very heartbroken on the inside, despite your condition notbeing terminal. Of course, it is a big relief for him as well, but his worriestend to go over the roof sometimes and he does not have many people in his lifebesides you, so he treasures you greatly. He would try to keep a strongcomposure for you though, not showing you anything else besides his usual ironexpression when he is around you. Alone however, he couldn’t help but let a fewtears fall as he knew that your treatment was not always an easy or verycomfortable one, the illness being no less, but he was determined to get youfully back on your feet again while supporting you day and night.

- Speakingof his support, this man would become extremely overbearing, not being able tohandle leaving your side for a second and it could be quite frustrating attimes, although you appreciated it immensely, you needed a breather now andthen. Sometimes, he would even deny his own needs to be with you, not eating orsleeping much during the day. You had to seriously lecture him about that case,as Hanzo is as stubborn as a goat after all. He’d become a lot moreaffectionate as well, holding you tightly against him as he joined you in yourhospital bed after having received another round of treatment, out of slightanxiety and a deep feeling of love all the while he’s giving you kisses on yourmost sensitive places. He would know you inside and out, having found yourpleasure points a long time ago already and would not stop flattering you untilyou were a giggling mess, trying to make you forget about your current state asmuch as possible.

- Wouldtry to get you to use traditional medicine as well, as some have been known tobe effective, even against certain forms of cancer and he would want to takethat chance while possibly helping your treatment along the way. He would goout of his way to get the best herbs and medicine possible, not saving a pennyand only providing you with the highest quality. It would honestly get a littleoverwhelming at times, but you knew he meant it well and often thanked him witha great hug and kiss, making the marksman blush in return as he brought his ownarms around you to bring you closer. If you needed space though, Hanzo wouldleave you alone for some time as well, but only if you truly needed it as hedisliked leaving your side, being too loyal and caring over your needs. Hewould never disrespect your wishes though and would frequently check up on youif you decided you needed to be on your own for a while.

- Eventhough the archer is not a great conversationalist, he would try his best tohelp you verbally through the hardships you might face as well, knowingphysical support and medicine alone is not always enough and he might even readup a bit on improving his social skills. He’d become a little desperate foryou, even though he did not have anything to worry about as you were alreadyrecovering, he just couldn’t slow down or be caught off guard, trying toproduce the proper advice and encouragements for you whenever you were feelingparticularly down. And through his hard work and dedication towards you, hebecame pretty good at it actually, as he held a lot of wisdom and his deepvoice alone was often already soothing to your ears. Hanzo would truly try hishardest to extend his boundaries for you, stepping out of his comfort zone andtrying to distract you as much as possible in the meantime. You would have manydeep and long conversations in return and you couldn’t help but feel giddy athis sweet gestures in helping you through your healing process.

- Tokeep you content and joyous, Hanzo would take you on many trips as well, thetwo of you seeking out faraway places and unknown highlights, making it awonderful experience altogether. Of course, a trip to Japan and his home was afirst, but you made many other sightseeing plans after that. You both were infor a tour and you did exactly that, an adventure only meant for the two ofyou, as you spent many hours travelling together while resting under the settingsun afterwards before embarking on the next trip. You had never felt suchfreedom and tranquility before and it made Hanzo feel more peaceful in returnas well. Laying together under the descending sun while you waited for thestars to make their entrance, was by far one of the greatest experiencesthough. Even though the warrior was rather reserved, the naturally romanticscene before him was hard to resist and he couldn’t help but succumb to the moodand feel it seemed to give off, as he put his burly arms around your waist andburied his nose in the crook of your neck from behind. You were unaware of hisadvances at first, but chuckled softly as you felt him shift closer to you, youbeing just as stars truck by the scene yourself. As you kept your eyes on thehorizon, you awaited your man’s next move while you gently stroked thesideburns on his cheekbones in approval.

- Hewould be very careful with you, as he was not always sure which mood you seemedto carry, often asking you for permission first before he even started touchingyou and would happily oblige to any of your wishes once you gave him the signto go on. Right now though, you were very much melting under his gentleministrations and you lowly hummed in appreciation, which only made the archermore motivated to please you. He had started to trail kisses from your cheek toyour collarbone and up till now, they had never felt so soft and tender to you beforeas did his hands. Their rough callouses were slowly stroking your arms and shoulders,rubbing the right places in an intimate yet non-sexual way. It were sessionslike these that you both loved the most. Just relishing in each other’s toucheswithout there being lust involved and it always stayed by the fluttering kissesand loving embraces, neither one of you wanting to ruin the entrancing mood youwere in. Eye contact was still something that proved to be a little difficultfor you though, as Hanzo never seemed to waver from your gaze, staring intentlyinto your striking orbs with his own dark and sultry gaze. He often made surethat you held it long enough though and it didn’t help that his face alone wasalready too much to resist not to look at, the regal complexion he always heldnever failed to bewitch you and he truly just wanted you to get out of yourshell a little, as he found your eyes to be sincerely mesmerizing.

- Ashis own eyes started to become slightly droopier, you were now completely lostin his enamoring spell and so was he in yours, as the both of you kept envelopingand caressing each other, exchanging passionate desires for each other throughyour lips in the process. You closed your eyes once Hanzo started murmuringcomforting words inside your ear, both for your wellbeing as well as the usualendearments he always calls you by. Moved by his intense love and adoration foryou, a few tears of joy escaped your eyes and the Japanese archer was there tocapture them with his lips, playfully yet lovingly licking them from theirrespective corners. “You are a sacred part of my being, my beloved.” And as thetwo of you locked foreheads together in your final display, noses brushing everso carefully, the marksman had to shed a few tears himself, as the intensity ofyour moment together reached him in turn and it was you who comforted him thistime, both of your hands caressing his strong and chiseled face. You bothchuckled in response and stayed like that for some more time afterwards,savoring this precious moment to the fullest and silently celebrating your futurethat had been written out for you together. “You always have me and my unconditionallove and support. I am bound to you for eternity, Y/N.” Were the warrior’s lastwords of conviction to you before you both drifted off into a blissful slumberafter ending a significantly satisfying day, your head safely secured on Hanzo’schest and his chin protectively on top of your crown as well as his form aroundyours. And when you would wake up, you knew that your silent and honorary herowould be there to greet you.

#hanzo x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines #overwatch headcanons #hanzo headcanons #hanzo imagine #overwatch hanzo #also #cookies for you if you manage to guess their next step in their relationship somewhere around the end #anonymous

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alexiela73 · 7 years

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Can you do Hanzo with an s/o who doesn't show off her legs because they're not clear or smooth like she has spots and stuff on them and it makes her insecure? This is v personal to me so thank you if you do☺️

No problem! I hope this works for you

Whoops of joy could be heard as the bus neared the destination. All of the over watch members were getting excited, and currently you were talking to Angela about how great it would be to put your feet in the water.

Oh yes, it had taken much convincing but finally Soldier had agreed to a much needed day at the beach. So Reinhardt had rented a bus and now you were all nearing a secluded beach where it would okay to swim. Everyone was geared up in bathing suits and shorts and towels, ready for some fun in the sun.

All except you, of course. A few people had asked why you were wearing sweat pants to the beach, even though you were wearing just a bikini top and sunhat otherwise. You just claimed you didn’t feel up to swimming but maybe you’d dip your feet in later. You would just go lay on a towel under an umbrella and stay there for the day.

In honesty, you wanted to shed those sweat pants and dive head first into the water. Except the problem was…you were quite shy. Although you’d shaved your legs, they weren’t as pretty to look at as Angela or Satya’s. Yours were a tad rough, the skin a bit bumpy instead of smooth, and you had a small mole on your thigh.

To you, your legs looked ridiculous. There was no way you’d let everyone else see.

Your boyfriend Hanzo Shimada was watching you closely, you noticed from the corner of your eye. To your delight, Hanzo had begrudgingly stripped down to a pair of swim shorts. It showed off his chiseled chest and arms, and the you swore you could hear chirping from his tattoo. The dragons must have been excited too.

But you didn’t know why he was staring at you, and it started to make you feel a bit self conscious.

When the bus stopped, everyone rushed off carrying their stuff. Instead of setting up, the majority dropped anything they had carried in a general area of the beach and then ran for the water.

Smiling slightly, you watched them go as you walked through the sand. Putting down your stuff, you put up a large umbrella and then set out a blanket for you and hanzo for later.

“Y/n,” you heard behind you, and you turned to see your boyfriend watching you with narrowed eyes.

“Hi Hanzo,” you said, skipping over and kissing his chin. You hoped he’d stop looking at you like that…

Frowning, Hanzo brushed a hand down your arm. “Why don’t you take off the sweat pants and go join everyone? You look quite warm,” Hanzo says quietly, wondering if you are feeling ill.

Cheeks flushing slightly, you shook your head and turned back toward the blanket, going and laying on it. “That’s okay,” you forced yourself to say cheerily. “I don’t really feel like swimming. But thanks.”

Hoping it would be the end of the topic, you blushed even more when you felt the blanket shift and after a moment Hanzo was laying on his side facing you, resting on his elbow. That look hadn’t left his face as he studied you.

“Is this about your legs?” Hanzo asked finally.

With a slight gasp, you glared but looked away. “There’s nothing wrong with my legs,” you said, not wanting him to know that that was the reason you weren’t going swimming.

“You are certainly right, y/n. I think your legs are perfectly fine,” Hanzo said, brushing a hand down to your outer thigh. Heat flared through you but you batted his hand away. After a moment, he sighed.

“There is no point hiding it from me, beloved. You are an open book to me. I think your legs are lovely,” Hanzo said honestly.

Scowling, you turned away. “You’ve never seen my legs!” you muttered.

Hanzo raises an eyebrow and presses to your back, making you squeak when his lips press softly to your ear. “I saw your legs this morning when you left the bathroom door open. I did not see anything wrong with them,” Hanzo said, and you gasped when his hand slid in your pants.

His hand slid down over your thigh and then further, caressing your leg and knee. Swallowing back the tears, you grabbed his wrist and closed your eyes tightly. “Hanzo..my legs are ugly and wrong. Please, i just…i can’t show them,” you whispered.

It broke his heart to hear you say such a thing. Sitting up, Hanzo easily placed you in his lap and instead began to rock you gently.

“Your wrong,” Hanzo grumbled. “There is nothing wrong with your legs, that i promise you. You legs feel perfectly fine to me. And they looked pretty cute when i was watching.”

Opening your eyes, you stared up at him. Hanzo wasn’t the type to joke or lie and he wouldn’t ever try to hurt you by saving your feelings. So although you didn’t believe it, you didn’t feel as bad as you did this morning when you were shaving and praying for a miracle.

“You…you really think they aren’t bad?” you said in a tiny voice.

Hanzo nodded and pressed a kiss to your nose. “I really do. And i know that you don’t wish for the others to see them but…if we went for a walk down the beach, just the two of us, would you take the pants off and go swimming with me?” Hanzo asked gently, pushing the hair from your face.

After a moment, you hesitantly nodded and glanced at the others. All of them were having fun in the water, and honestly you wanted to join…and you thought that maybe, just maybe, it might not be so bad to bare you legs for hanzo.

Packing up your stuff, Hanzo twined his hand with yours and the two of you began down the beach after you very self consciously removed your pants and tucked them in your bag.

“I must say, you doing look rather hot in that bathing suit,” Hanzo said as the two of you walked, glancing at you slyly.

With a blush, you just kind of smacked his chest, earning a grunt. The two of you had a sweet day at the beach, spending time mostly with each other and that’s how you began to grow comfortable with your legs, at least around the person who mattered most.

#Hanzo #Hanzo Shimada #Overwatch #reader x overwatch #overwatch writing #overwatch imagines #Hanzo Overwatch #Hanzo x Reader #Hanzo Shimada x Reader #Beach day #Be true to you

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roses-and-lovely-things · 7 years

Text

Fort-nine Years

@halfbreednight @illyrian-high-lord @readinglikewildfire @crazybossbitch1 @2-bookmaster-2 @lovemeinnercircle @lovelygirl-3 @micmac21 @myhighlordrhysand @alienathedreamer @kateflowrchild13

Thank you all so much for your comments and in return, I give you and everyone else who liked my last one, I give you all this.

She was in the gardens the day he returned to her.

Viviane floated through the gardens, a ghost among the icy flowers. That was all had been, a ghost, since he’d left. Moonlight thread pulled away from porcelain skin, curled and woven into a braided masterpiece of icy flowers, vines, and hair, the rest left to dance down her back, like a frozen waterfall against the snow white plains of her back. White chiffon sleeves patterned with crystal vines and flowers crept up her arms to grasp at her shoulder, but stopped its journey upon her skin there, instead deciding to go southward again, this time to merge with the more solid rayon and voyage the swell of her pearly white breasts and down her chest, tight, like if it clung tight enough to her, it could bar any danger from marring the smooth flesh beneath. But that is not your job, her mind sighed, that job belongs to him. The tight fabric protected her only past her rear, where it blossomed into an icy white cascades of chiffon and lace, surrounding their mistress, with ends that danced with the wind. The only whisper of color lie in the piercing aquamarine eyes that seemed to glow against their background. She lifted a slender moon kissed hand from her lap, to lightly drag it across the snow covered bench she’d chosen as her perch, leaving a blossoming swirl in its wake. As beautiful and fair as winter itself the servants would tell her each morning as they dressed her in white and wove jewels into her hair. Usually she would take it in stride, allow it to ignite the flames of confidence she’d need to survive the day and rule in her beloved’s place, just as she’d promised him that day forty nine years ago. But days had passed since the anniversary of that day, and with every day her hope was ebbed away by the unseen icy winds of despair. Forty nine years Tamlin was given to find her. The one who would free them from the mountain. But forty nine years and he still hasn’t come home. He still hasn’t come back to me, he promised he would. Ever since the anniversary of the curse, she demanded to be alone and came out here to wait. In this garden of snow carved archways and flowers of crystalline ice and white stone benches she’d wait, in this garden where they’d danced as children and dreamed as adults, dreamed of the world as it could be while they debated on everything and nothing under snowy days and clear nights where stars glimmered like snowflakes trapped in the unending sky. Viviane felt her right cheek warm as a tear spilled over and raced downward. Inside she felt like glass, splintering an breaking, but only in her solitude would she let it break, for as much as she wished she could wither away along with her hope, or cast herself into the fire that was Amarantha in order to join him. But no, I promised him I’d be strong and protect our people, I cannot fail him now. An icy wind brushed her face, whisking away her fallen tear and whispering her name in her ear. Viviane, oh my Viviane it whispered to her as it caressed her cheek. Her pale lips parted in shock, and her head turned to the right of its own accord, like a tether was pulling her toward it. There he was, standing atop the stairs of the entrance to the small garden, right under the snow carved archway, frozen. His snow white tresses slightly disheveled as he panted, out of breath. Only his thick white cloak billowed in the wind, the rest of him frozen in place, icy blue eyes glued to her form. Slowly, Viviane rose to her feet, unsure if her beloved Kallias was truly there or if her crumbling hope had fabricated him. Slowly she placed one foot in front of the other, afraid if she got too close then he would vanish in a gust of snow and wind. But when his lips broke out into a watery smile and shaky breath of relief, relief that she was there and she was safe and that Amarantha hadn’t touched her was what finally undid her. She felt the ends of her own lips curl into a smile and a small whimper escaped her parted lips just before she ran to him. Strong and sure arms already open wide to receive her she fell into the broad chest she hadn’t touched in forty nine years. Large arms crushed her to him so tightly she almost thought she thought she would become a part of him, and perhaps that was what he wanted, to hold her so close she couldn’t physically be parted from him, something she would not mind in the slightest. Her armed snaked around and ensnared his neck bringing his face down to allow her to crush her lips against his. Forty nine years she had been waiting, only imagining what it would feel like to kiss him, and the feeling was electrifying. While the rest of his body was like hard stone and chiseled out muscle, his lips were feather soft and warm as they sent electric currents through her nerves. Her knees began to buckle but before she had completely lost her ability to stand those large, protective arms had lifted her into the air as he swung her around, lips never parting with her own while snowflakes swirled around them in a silent praise that their master and mistress were once again together, once again whole. Once her feet were gently placed back onto the stone Kallias ripped his lips from hers and buried his face into her neck, body wracked with sobs. “You’re safe, you’re safe, thank the cauldron your safe.” He whispered over and over again. Tears of happiness and pure, unending love fell freely from her cheeks and froze into little diamonds in her lover’s hair. “You’ve finally returned to me.” Was all she could manage before closing her eyes and bursting into a laugh. At least she thought it was a laugh, or maybe they were sobs of relief, she couldn’t exactly say. “Marry me.” Kallias whispered into her hair. Viviane’s laughter froze and her eyes flung open. “What did you say?” She knew exactly what he had said, but she couldn’t believe it. Kallias pulled away from her and kneeled down into the snow, grasping both of her tiny hands in his much larger ones. “Marry me, Viviane. Today. Right now.” He asked her again with more love and hope in his eyes than stars in the night sky. Viviane wasn’t sure if her smile could grow any larger or if her body could contain any more joy than it held in this moment as she threw herself on top of him and with the High Lord of Winter gazing up at her, she finally gave him her answer. “Yes. A thousand times yes.” Kallias grinned and with one arm her wrapped it around the back of her neck to pull her down into another time stopping kiss. The Winter Court would officially have their Lady and the long years their lord had spent in unrequited love had finally come to an end.

#acowar #acomaf #acotar #a court of wings and ruin #kallias #viviane #kallias x viviane #feysand #nessian #winter court #high lord #feyre archeron #tamlin #elucien

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