#but alas my own personal hell where my skin is So Sensitive To This One Thing In Particular and it's in all the most sensitive places | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crushed-like-an-ant · 3 years

Text

how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

#fanfic #peter parker #spider-man #iron man #irondad #father-son #pepper potts #unhealed trauma #marvel #the avengers #spider son #bamf peter parker #tired dad Tony #tony stark #aunt may

278 notes · View notes

dreamii-yume · 3 years

Note

Since we know that canonically Rook is indeed a stalker.(and has the pics to prove it) Do you think he would watch his Darling...........*cough* masturbate? *cough*

The way your form looks from afar, writhing on your bed as your fingers busies themselves by playing with your own cunt is simply a marvelous sight to take in! A naughty girl, not even bothering to close the curtains, practically asking him to gawk at you. Rook is not complaining nevertheless, even if the sheets were closed, he’d still find ways to take in your beauty especially at this state. Like he always do. Still, to think that this’ll be the gift that he’ll have the pleasure of receiving from you, this could certainly be the best birthday he’d ever have!

Your face is flushed as a rose, eyes closed with tears dripping over your long eyelashes, and moans you try to hold back as you bit into your hitched up shirt. Aah, how blessed was he to be able to experience such precious moment? His ears could qualify for a great wonder, he can hear your luscious moans and groans, overwhelming with pleasure. It makes his own body feel all hot inside, most notably the squelching sound your little weeping hole makes every time you would bury your fingers deep inside. His pants tightened in anticipation but non, he must resist the torturous urge to touch himself, this fine show that you were giving is a masterpiece, truly something that will be considered a crime for merely blinking his eyes close.

...He can hear those too, you know? The names you’re calling out loud in such a seductive tone, hungry for just about anyone at this point. Rook heard his name once, which almost sent his instincts into overdrive, mistaking such lewd tone into a sweet melody. But alas, though he wishes that it was just his name that you were moaning out for, then came in the next names to replace his, all familiar in memory. Don’t worry, he doesn’t exactly dislike it at all, non, this...lascivious side of yours is also beauty in itself.

Then came in the final act of your performance, Rook’s favorite part as he could hear you getting louder and more agrressive to yourself. Your eyes rolling back with how rough you were being with your own pussy, all impure thoughts that have been running in your head must’ve been let loose. You were determine to abuse even your own just to bring yourself into a satisfying conclusion, that was the part that Rook loves about you the most, the dedication.

He bit his bottom lip in anticipation, his observant eyes eager to see what you will become from his point of view beyond your windows. Rook could feel his own cheeks heating up in pleasure, a chuckle escapes him as he realized that he was actually using his everything to resist the urge to just burst in inside your room, to finish your job long before you could. You were amazing, he thought, you weren’t aware of his presence and yet, you hold the ability to make him feel this way. To make him feel this...excited. It’s simply something that can’t be put into proper words.

Rook’s grip on a tree bark had gotten tighter the moment that he heard you let out a high pitched voice, signalling your inevitable climax. His breath hitched for a second as he saw you widened your hole to give way for your dazzling juices to be put on a display, it was like he was watching a work of art. Your body spasm at the intensity of your orgasm, fingers circling your little sensitive bud to motivate your body to let everything out. It was far too beautiful for Rook to see that he doesn’t feel all too worthy of seeing it, almost to the point of bringing him into tears.

What a performance, a beautiful representation of pureness and impureness merging as one. Rook gulped down his excitement as he finally found the will to move after a long time. With something as maginificent as that, how do you expect him to just walk away? He must pay your credits for a job well done, this new-found admiration and respect for someone shall not go unnoticed. It was beauty that Rook seeks in this world and without it, everything else is meaningless.

That’s why, he can’t just turn a blind eye into all of this. It was beauty that you have provided, therefore, allow him to give you his thanks.

You settled down after a few seconds, chest heaving up and down as you slowly pulled your fingers, slicked with your nectar out of your core. You winced at the remaining sensitivity that left you, mind feeling a little light-headed with what you just done. You felt dirty and satisfied at the same time, but didn’t really bring yourself to care any more than that. You were about to close your eyes, finally exhausted enough to call it a night when suddenly, you felt another pair of hands engulfing your own, it was colder than air.

“Non. I would prefer it if you shouldn’t fall asleep so quickly just yet, mon chére fleur.” You looked down with widened eyes to see the Vice Dorm Leader of Pomefiore himself, Rook Hunt on the edge of your bed, entertwining his fingers to your slick ones. “Your beauty can be compared to the fairest one of all, but you still yet to declare your role as a princess.”

It took you a while to actually react, gasping immediately and was about to scream loud when Rook pulled you so abruptly. He was quick to slam his lips over yours, enough to silence you with shock. The kiss was for Rook himself to indulge in, savoring your taste until the very end as he pulled away to see your adorable reactions. “Pardon...I didn’t mean to startle you like this, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He was lying, to see you this shock and speechless was something Rook had definitely intended. “I was just so captivated by the show you put on for me that I need to personally pay you my respects.”

“Eh...?” You barely croaked out, still trying to process where this man came out. You didn’t even hear any door or window creak open in this battered dorm, let alone the sounds of his footsteps! His presence had been completely erased until he took hold of your hand too, just what was going on here!? However, Rook could only smirk at your bewilderment, bringing your hand close to his lips, the same hands that you used to play yourself with. You quickly heated up in embarrassment and tried to pull yourself away but he kept a gentle yet strong grip, further increasing your panic as he went and lick your fingers one by one. “Eek...! No, d-don’t do that...!”

“Mm, délicieux...You taste as fine as I imagined you to be...!” Rook moaned out, leaning closer as you could only stare at the lovesick expression in his eyes with anxiousness. You flinched as he brought your hand down this time, your breath hitching up as he stopped dangerously close to that concerning bulge on his pants. Your eyes shifts between his face and your hand, not really sure if what he wants is what you think he wants.

“Aah...Can you feel it? My excitement?” You gulped, cold sweat dripping down your forehead rather ominously, but it only encouraged Rook’s smile to widen. He leaned towards your ear, his voice soft yet hypnotizing, irking you to do something that you were sure you’ll never forgive yourself for. “It’s calling out for you, mon chére.”

“This may be what you call ‘audience participation’ of some sort?” Rook chuckled as he began unzip his pants. When he saw how pale you look, that cold sweat was basically glistening against your skin, he pulled out an expression that resembles a puppy. Something that he knew would definitely tug on your heartstrings. “I know it’s a bit sudden and I dread of the thought of making you feel this way, but would you forgive me just this once?

Now, he was using guilt against you. He’s good at acting and is putting out a really convincing act and maybe if you weren’t aware of how he really is, you could’ve believed him. Still, it’s scary to think that it’s somehow working, despite knowing that it’s all an act. “In a few hours, my special day would be over and I have yet to wait another year for the next.” He was right, though it was an act, what he was saying was true. Maybe that was the fact that was working out for you. “Therefore, don’t you think we’d be allowed to sin just this once?”

Then, comes back his smirk, simultaneously startling you as he pulled you quite roughly, disrupting your balance. Coincidentally, or deliberately perhaps, your face landed between his legs. You widened your eyes as he got his cock out, standing tall and inches away from your face which froze you on the spot. Your breath hitched as you realized how unexpectedly huge he was, it wasn’t just in your angle either, you don’t think he was going to fit in any of your holes without hurting like hell.

“...After all...” You squeaked as you felt his hand on your bare ass, snaking it’s way to your cunt, still wet from earlier. “You, yourself was committing such an act too from earlier, weren’t you? So naughty, even moaning out other guys’ name despite not even being your special day.”

You flushed red at what he said, embarrassed that he even documented what you have said and done before. It was adorable in Rook’s eyes, earning you another chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad at all. It was still a good show regardless. Though this time, would it be too much if I were to be the only one in your mind tonight?” He guided your hands towards his erection, moaning slightly as you clasped your fingers around him. “Aah~ Trés bien...! Just your soft fingers alone is enough to send pleasure through my system! Boutén!” He moaned as you glanced up at him with confused and slightly disturbed eyes, wondering how easily sensitive he was.

Still, you felt his fingers moved to play with your folds, startling you to move in your spot, grasping his cock tight. Rook chuckled as he looked down at you, feeling as if he just discovered a new function in a toy. You, however, couldn’t help but close your eyes in embarrassment, glancing slightly at your senior, who was eagerly waiting for your next move. His fingers had barely entered your pussy, and somehow, that alone felt better than how you did in your own. You can’t help but be frustrated, he was definitely using your own pleasure to use against his own, a reward system of some sort.

You give out a breathy sigh, finally sucking up your pride and going closer to his dick. His words from earlier carried a point. For now, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to entertain him for a while.

...Or whatever that means.

It’s surprisingly really fun to write for Rook since he’s already like...lowkey yandere in the game lol Aah, I just wish we know more things about him! ( ；∀；) He’s really careful to not reveal anything about his past lol

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere rook hunt #rook hunt #Birthday Crumbs

291 notes · View notes

fvrxdrm · 4 years

Text

A Million Nightmares and One Dream (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

RE2make!Leon Warning: Smut, Dry-humping, oral sex

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Have you ever had a nightmare? One that feels real? So real that you couldn’t figure out what was reality and what was not? Well, I have. I still am, actually.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve started running away from whatever the hell those things were. Two weeks trying to survive this hellhole of a place called Raccoon City, and two weeks praying that I would wake up from this nightmare...but I’m still not awake.

It made me question if I’m even asleep or not. Maybe I’m dead? Maybe I’m in another universe? Maybe my mind’s just going crazy? The answer I don’t know and I don’t think I’m going to get that answer anytime soon.

It’s never-ending. Whenever I close my eyes and open them again, I still see the same incubus in front of me: lifeless eyes that would stare back at me, pale and cold skin that would touch me every now and then, thick red liquid that would gush out from every part of their bodies, their growls that would destroy the eerie silence of the cold, dark night, their teeth digging into another person’s flesh as they mindlessly enjoy their gruesome meal, puddles and marks of blood that were scattered and smeared all over the city, the growing flames from vehicles that were crashed in every structure and fellow car, and the lack of light that made it a tad bit difficult to move around without being grabbed by any of those undead.

This had to be a nightmare, right? I had to be asleep. This isn’t possible...or is it?

It was hard running around, desperate to save my own life that’s at stake with barely anything to defend myself with. But despite that, there was this one thing, a person, perhaps, that came out of nowhere, just like those hellish monsters just roaming around, finding their next dinner, except this person wasn’t someone I was scared of, I was in love with him.

Leon Scott Kennedy, a rookie cop who was supposed to start his first day a week ago. He got a call from the police station to stay away from the city but his curiosity got the better of him and that curiosity got him involved in this nightmare.

During that shit-show we were in, we had been chased around by a fucking giant in a trench coat and fedora, met a woman who broke my heart by kissing the man I’ve caught feelings for and then betrayed us, almost got killed by a beast with a huge-ass eye on its right arm, and then we escaped the city using a train together with a little girl named Sherry and a college gal named Claire.

We found ourselves inside two hotel rooms with Claire and Sherry sharing one and Leon and I sharing the other. It felt kind of weird to me for some reason. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I have feelings for and we’re literally in the same room. With one bed. We’re going to be sleeping next to each other!

Calm down, Y/N. You’re just going to sleep, nothing else.

It’s just...it doesn’t help that I’m in a tank top and underwear only with no pants or bra on while Leon was wearing a sweatpants with no shirt on and just went commando.

Get your shit together, Y/N! Tomorrow you’ll have a new set of clothes.

“Y/N?” Leon called mumbled my name beside me in a sleepy voice.

It’s been an hour I think since we got in bed and Leon immediately fell asleep in exhaustion as soon as his body flopped on the soft mattress while I didn’t...I couldn’t for some reason even though I’m very tired myself.

I turned my head around to look at the young man beside me who propped himself up before laying his upper body on my chest.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered in my ear, his hot breath fanning against my skin causing shivers to run down my spine and the little hairs on my neck to stand up. I let out a shaky sigh.

“Nothing. Just thinking”, I managed to breathe out after a few seconds of thinking about my response.

“About?”

You?

“Nothing you should be concerned about”, Leon lifted his head up and looked down at me with his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Now I’m more concerned”

“Leon”

“Y/N”, My E/C orbs began staring at his blue ones with the same intensity as the man on top of me, keeping myself from averting my gaze towards his plump lips that looked so soft.

Ada got lucky, huh?

Alas, my brain couldn’t take it anymore and just commanded my optics to shift my gaze towards his lips that were being moisturized by his saliva-covered tongue. I continued to stare at it for a few more seconds, admiring the art that I don’t know if I would be seeing again in front of me, before looking at Leon’s eyes again. They were half-lidded now, his orbs now focused on my own parted lips, just like what I did before.

Is he copying me?

Slowly, he began leaning down, his eyes still fixated on my mouth that began releasing more and more air as his head lowered itself more. My heartbeat was raising each millisecond and his hot breath was tickling my face.

Closer and closer...and then...

Our lips touched. It was like what I expected it to be: smooth and soft like a baby’s butt.

My hand found its way towards the nape of his neck before pulling him closer as I was enjoying the feeling of his lips moving against mine, his tongue dancing with my own in a smooth tango, and the sound of what we were doing bouncing off the walls surrounding us.

All of the horrors that’s been glued to our heads were gone in that moment. Vanished. Now we were in a dream, a dream we never wanted to escape from. A dream we wished was forever. But that’s impossible, just like how a nightmare always ends, and that’s why we made this dream the best we’ve ever had so far.

Leon pulled away and spread my legs before making himself comfortable in between them, his warms hands still planted on my knees.

“Is it okay if I do this?” Leon rolled his hips against mine, his cock that was covered by the slightly thick fabric of his sweatpants gliding smoothly against my my thin fabric-covered clit, the pleasing sensation causing me to close my eyes and bite my lip as a small gasp left my mouth. I nodded my head a few times until I heard Leon chuckle above me and roll his hips against mine again.

Leon leaned down again, not stopping his hip movements, before his lips flattened against my neck, lightly pressing kisses on every patch of skin that was exposed to him while my hands found its way on the back of his neck once more, this time, my fingers combed through his soft blonde hair and my hand lightly balled itself into a fist as his movements became faster and faster, causing a loud creaking sound to resonate throughout the small room as the bed below us began moving with Leon.

Leon groaned from above me, his lust-filled voice muffled by my skin as he proceeded to leave some love bites on my neck.

“I’m close, Y/N”

As soon as he said that, his actions grew quicker than before, his desperation to come undone flooding his head as he did so.

The pleased sounds coming from our mouths increased their volume with us not caring if there were other people hearing us from the other side of these thin walls. Leon’s groans became animalistic growls and my pitch became higher. My grip on Leon’s locks became tighter which only added to the hedonism he felt, the bittersweet sensation causing him to come fast and hard, his white fluids staining his grey pants.

When he noticed that I hadn’t come yet, he lowered himself down to where his head was peaking through the valley between my legs before looking at me softly.

“May I?”

I nodded my head as I bit my bottom lip that was bruise with all the kissing and biting we were doing, the anticipation rising as my thoughts scrambled inside my head, knowing what was bound to happen next.

Leon placed a sole kiss on the skin just above the brim of my underwear, his eyes still trained on me, before letting his teeth pin the thin cotton fabric between them and winked at me as he began sliding the material down my legs in an antagonizing pace.

“Leon”, I whispered sensually and hungrily, my tone reflecting on the need I was feeling.

Once the nether garments were off and were thrown out of the way, Leon shifted his focus towards the glistening wet lips just below my hips, his eyes slightly widened as he saw how wet I was but his astonished and amused look soon changed into something more lustful and concupiscent, his once blue orbs that were now mostly covered black indicating his own hunger.

The tip of his tongue finally touched my sensitive nub, my body jolting a little bit at the sudden action but nevertheless, it felt good, great even. He licked a long stripe from the bottom up until the tumescent pearl that’s been begging to be touched by the man between my legs.

My fingers found their way through Leon’s hair again, tugging it more and more as the sexual gratification grew more and more intense the closer I got to my high.

“Leon”

And now, it’s been nineteen years since that incident. Leon and I thought after escaping that hellhole that that was the end of it but nope. The government forced us to work for the USSTRATCOM and then after a few more years the new president recruited us to the new organization he found called the DSO and we’ve been sent to missions after missions involving B.O.W.s and the like.

The only good thing that happened throughout the years of fighting this bullshit was Leon and I got married! He proposed to me after finishing our mission in the Eastern Slav Republic and eventually got married a year later. Crazy, right? We didn’t have a kid though as we would only put him/her in danger but sex was still there, only had to take my pills regularly AND we actually adopted Sherry after getting out of Raccoon so that’s a plus.

“Hey, Chris!” Leon called the BSAA Silver Daggers’ captain’s name and watched as he turned his head around to face him.

“Yeah?”

“How long can we keep going on like this?”

“I don’t know. I never make plans that far ahead”, Chris replied as a soft smile tugged on his lips.

Leon just chuckled in response before looking at me and taking my hand, his fingers lacing with mine as he did so.

Yep. A million nightmares and one dream.

#leonkennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leonxreader #leon kennedy x you #leon #leon+kennedy+fanfic #leon+kennedy+imagine

194 notes · View notes

rvmmm21 · 3 years

Text

. you’re gonna spaghet it .

summary : a home-cooked meal and a baking show is too much to ask for. but only when the person asking is seungwan.

small note : i'm tentatively back. and here's the worse news. you get this pile of 'what-the-fic-is-this?!' before i start clonking you over the head with my leg of yandere ham.

think of it as your pre-christmas coal in your stocking.

(this sat in my drafts for so long its not even funny. if i had a cent for every second i spent thinking about whether i wanted this out here, i'd have accumulated enough for the plane ticket, the lawyers and the hospital fees to fly over to SM to clonk them myself.)

just for tumblr. if you want to read this but in pretty, it’s here.

tw : tickling, probably many grammar errors because i do not know how to write anymore, and my cretinous knowledge of how tv recordings work.

[irene x white-winged dove!wendy]

. . .

[6:15pm] A mischievous smile tugs at her lips when she sees how Seungwan struggles.

. . .

Bae Joohyun blithely watches her girlfriend titter around the kitchen preparing vegetables for the chopping board. When the sound of water beginning to boil reaches attentive ears, she secretly smiles at the melodious hum of a happy tune.

Everything is going as planned!

However.

Pangs of guilt are beginning to tweak at Joohyun’s conscience. Because what she really wants to do is not to be a good girlfriend and offer a hand at stirring the pot. She doesn’t even want to sit patiently and wait to hear Seungwan sing out for her when dinner’s ready.

No. Joohyun wants to play. And she knows who she wants to play with. Even though it’s going to be a complete setback to the lovely night she’s sure her Wannie has planned out for them.

It was Seungwan’s idea to cook tonight, then eat together while they watch their favourite TV program. Pfft, ‘their favourite’. What Joohyun really means is she’ll happily watch the season finale of the unorthodox cooking show her girlfriend is currently obsessed with.

. . .

“It gives me ideas, unnie,” Seungwan had explained when, about a week ago, Joohyun had walked in on a very experimental game of muffin-making.

The latest episode of “Baking for the Seoul” flashed through Joohyun’s memory.

“Don’t the ingredients have to be… in the bowl, though?” she asked incredulously, eyes searching for any part of their countertop that was actually visible.

“Hm?” Seungwan looked up, wiping the frosting off her nose… with the wrong hand.

Joohyun raised an eyebrow. “And which one are we putting in the oven, your sludge mix or you?” She inquired, now searching for any part of her girlfriend’s face – that was actually visible.

When the girl in question stayed concentrated, apprehension bubbled in her gut at the state of that exceptionally thick bowl of frosting. She surreptitiously strained to peer behind a thoroughly battered Seungwan, trying her hardest to not actually step foot into the kitchen.

Her girlfriend has this… ‘thing’ about work space. Especially the kitchen.

“Wan-ah,” Joohyun’s tone was equal parts warning and concern. “You didn’t get any on your wings, did you… that frosting looks too thick and last time you got yourself all mucky, remember we had to – ”

“It’s fine it’s fine, look! I’m being careful!” Seungwan quipped cheerfully, pirouetting round to give a worried Joohyun a glimpse of her wings which were nicely folded through each designated slit in the back of her sky-blue jumper.

The latter breathed a sigh of relief when she saw them; all white, fluffy and – most importantly – clean. She inwardly shuddered at how much of a nightmare that bath was. Thank god she’s behaving this time, she thought.

Although momentary relief didn’t stop her from contemplating an alternative method of keeping her mind at ease.

But the thought of having Seungwan wear her wing guards in their own home tugged at her unpleasantly. It was bad enough she had to have them on when they were out in potentially stressful situations. So she wouldn’t accidentally hurt herself or anyone around her… which had unfortunately happened once or twice before. It was clearly a burden to go about so obviously restricted, and despite Seungwan’s insistence on having grown used to them, Joohyun could always feel how upset she’d get whenever she was helping to do the clasps up behind her.

Definitely no wing guards then. And if that meant Joohyun would be bruising her knees for hours on end trying to keep dense baking mix and her messy baby bird two separate entities, then she’d happily do it.

Whatever kept Seungwan chirping.

Plus, her little chef looked damned determined, so she thought it appropriate to slip in one last passing remark before plucking a banana from the rack. “Yah, Wannie! Let me know if I’m gonna have to pick out birdie feathers from my cupcakes, okay?”

Seungwan grumbled something along the lines of a ‘hm, yeah whatever unnie’ in response.

Joohyun just laughed, heading back to their room and leaving the mastermind to her latest trial.

> > > > >

[7:00 p.m] Seungwan doesn't know which she finds more horrifying: what Joohyun intends to do to her or the fact that they're going to have to have take-away two nights in a row.

. . .

It should’ve been a simple mission.

Retrieve a fresh packet of spaghetti from the topmost shelf.

Her attempts are… laughable. She’s clearly doing her best.

Though she doesn't realise it yet, she’s still being watched. From the living room, Joohyun is watching. And she isn’t laughing. Hands ball into unconscious fists as a tight wave of numbness washes over her at how adorable Seungwan looks.

Just… like that: both wings tucked against her back, beautiful and neat as their owner. Strained muscles from reaching for something Joohyun already knows she’s going to have to help out with. And the tiny grunts when fingertips barely graze the edges of the packet.

Seungwan looks so soft, so frustrated. So vulnerable.

A small spike of inexplicable adrenaline leads Joohyun to head over to the huffing, moon-hopping girl.

She really needs to teach her little dove that being this cute comes with a price.

. . .

When a lithe body slides up behind her and presses against her back, Seungwan’s wings give a gentle flutter to mimic the stutter in her heart. She sighs affectionately at the pair of hands resting low on her hips.

The task is almost forgotten. Almost.

Unnie’s here to help, Seungwan thinks… ever so mistakenly.

“Hyun – ahh,” she’s interrupted by a slight shiver when the tip of her right wing is stroked between a finger and a thumb, delicately running across pure, downy feathers. A tried and tested (Bae Joohyun-certified) method of getting the girl absolutely weak.

Judging by the sound of strained breaths filling the space between them, it’s working.

Alas, dinner hasn’t been cooked, the sun’s setting and Seungwan’s time-management brain is screaming at her to get a move on. She points to the shelf, trying her hardest to block out the dangerously wonderful feeling. “Could you – could you please get that for me?”

Instead of complying, Joohyun chuckles, moving her hands from her back to glide them lightly up and down her sides. She isn’t surprised that Seungwan is already shivering, terribly overwhelmed from that alone.

Her smirk twitches when she feels the smaller girl squirm.

Seungwan has always been like this… so responsive, so susceptible to touch. Her touch. She’s jelly in her clutches, and even Joohyun has to admit that sometimes she really doesn’t deserve to be.

Sneaky hands grow bolder, finding their way under the hem of Seungwan’s fleecy jumper to continue tracing teasing lines against soft, sensitive skin.

“But it’s so cute to watch you struggle, baby,” Joohyun coos, beginning to rest more of her weight into Seungwan’s hips, keeping her trapped against the kitchen counter.

“U-unnie,” Seungwan tries, half-heartedly writhing against Joohyun’s hold, torn between wanting to cook dinner and wanting to be dinner. “Not – ah… not right now… it’s already late, we have to – ”

“And you smell so nice. Is this new shampoo?” Joohyun presses her nose into her nape, cutting her short, nuzzling into that pleasant fruity shampoo scent. She then pauses to nudge Seungwan’s legs suggestively ajar with her knee before leaning in to whisper into a ruby-tipped ear. “ Should I give you a reason to shower again later, hm?”

The younger’s eyes widen at the sinful implication.

Gosh, really? Right now? In the kitchen?

The kitchen. The place she cooks and handles food? (Sure, Joohyun will – once in a blue moon – dice the odd carrot or something, but that certainly does not give her the right to be making any unauthorised, hormonal messes for her to clean up). She must be off her rocker if she thinks Seungwan’s going to allow her precious workstation to be tainted by what she can already foresee to be copious amounts of bodily fluid just because someone can’t keep it in their pants.

It snaps something inside her. And – with all the strength neither of them knew she possessed – Seungwan wrenches out from under Joohyun’s weight with a firm “YAH! Stop fooling around!”, sending the older woman stumbling a few steps back.

For a second, they’re just as stunned and disbelieving as each other; Seungwan at her own apprently dormant Herculean strength –

– and Joohyun at the sheer audacity.

Then again, could this be any more timely?

God, Joohyun could kiss herself.

She straightens her blouse, putting on her best ‘I-can’t-believe-you’ve-done-this’ expression, and turning to lock the now slightly (and rightfully so) terrified-looking Seungwan with a stare. This is the best part. The part where she just glares, secretly gleeful as the other girl absolutely crumbles with apprehension.

The part where Seungwan thinks it’s her fault.

“Uh oh,” she tuts, sporting a grin to match that mischievous glint in her eyes, “someone’s in trouble, aren’t they?”

Seungwan is, of course, at a total loss for words, but she fumbles around anyway, desperate to justify whatever the hell she’s just done. It’s almost too much for Joohyun to handle, watching her dig her own grave like this.

Finally, Seungwan tries to back up, only to let out a sharp gasp when she trips over her own feet in her haste. She’s on the floor in seconds with Joohyun immediately following. There’s hardly a chance for her to get her bearings before she’s stuck on her back with a weight straddling her hips.

Seungwan goes wide-eyed. She might as well kiss the prospect of a candlelit dinner bye-bye… for tonight, at least.

“My clumsy, clumsy Wannie,” Joohyun mocks, holding herself above the smaller girl on her hands and purposely tangling their legs together. “Tonight was very thoughtful of you, baby, but I’m postponing our dinner plans to tomorrow night. I think we should order in, don’t you?”

“Ah unnie...” Seungwan groans, failing to ignore the way Joohyun’s predatory expression crayons her cheeks a soft pink, “we had take-away last night! I don’t wanna eat chicken aga – ”

“Then let’s get pizza,” Joohyun offers unhelpfully. She’s clearly got her own agenda that she’s determined to follow through with. “Okay? Hm, let’s see… you have to the count of five to agree with me or…”

She pauses to savour the panic in those deep brown eyes. “I’m going to have a very tired little birdie to take care of.”

That satisfied smirk leaves nothing to the imagination. Seungwan can practically read her fate on her girlfriend's rosy lips before they delve into hers, causing her eyes to roll back as they melt hotly into each other.

Seungwan hardly notices Joohyun lacing their fingers together until her eyes flutter open and she finds herself held down, arms stretched securely above her head. Joohyun adjusts her grip so she has both wrists pinned under one hand and the other free.

Ah, fuck, not again. Seungwan laughs emptily, fidgeting with high-strung premonition. When her one final struggle proves useless, she resorts to asserting herself with her voice. “Yah, unnie, I’m cooking tonight. Stop being annoying or you’re not getting fed.”

Ah, too easy.

Joohyun contemplates elaborating further. But she’s said enough. Besides, Seungwan doesn’t even deserve a response to that. That was a threat, wasn’t it? The prospect of starvation is a serious threat that should be promptly dealt with. And what do you do when you’re faced with a threat? Be that a burglar, a murderer or a very flustered Son Seungwan.

Tickle them. Obviously.

Joohyun leers over her, wiggling her fingers in anticipation. “Five…”

Seungwan’s eyes blow wide, and – with miserable luck – she renews her efforts at breaking free once again. “Hyun! Seriously?! You – I can’t believe you’re d – ”

“Four.”

“HYUN!”

“Three.”

“Okay! Okay! Let’s get pizza tonight! There, happy?! You can even choose the flav – ”

Seungwan hears a scoff above her. “Nope. Sorry Wannie. I made that decision. You’ve changed nothing.”

“YAH, YOU TRICKED ME YOU BIRDBRAIN! LET ME UP. YOU’RE SO DEAD!!”

One click of a tongue and Seungwan has never retracted any statement faster in her life.

“Okayokayokay! Sorry that was super mean! Please I – ”

“Two…”

Too late. She’s dead. She’s one hundred percent about to be on the list of the unfairly deceased.

Seungwan whines hopelessly. “Unnieeeee, you’re not being fair!”

It’s a ditch attempt, but one Seungwan doesn’t intend to miss. “OKAY SERIOUSLY I MEAN IT, GET OFF!”

Joohyun snickers. “One.”

With five fingers and wicked intent, she dives in.

. . .

A pair of pretty wings and an even prettier face make for an impossible choosing.

Even now, as she has Seungwan flat on her back with her eyes screwed shut and tears streaming down her face, she wants to flip her over so she can be blinded by white insulation. So those feathers can brush against her as she drives their owner to the brink of sanity.

She wants to feel her dove respond to what she does to her.

“Hyu – Hyun, p-please!”

Joohyun smirks down at her victim, who’s weakly pawing at the front of her blouse in what she can only assume is an attempt to get her to stop.

Pathetic.

Seungwan never fails to struggle. But then again, she never fails to forget that Joohyun, too, is much, much stronger than she looks.

All that tiresome squirming is easily dealt with. Only a fraction more pressure from Joohyun’s fingertips, and Seungwan’s arms fall to either side, limp and useless just like the rest of her. The only indication she’s even conscious is the violent trembling and – when she’s able to muster up the lung space – the occasional plea for mercy.

Even the laughter is silent.

Joohyun loves it this way. She loves having Seungwan all sweaty and flustered beyond belief; whenever and wherever she pleases, the younger girl is reduced to a quivering mess, trapped beneath her cruel dexterity.

So instead of getting the pasta boiling for a romantic dinner, Seungwan is graciously letting Joohyun have her one-sided fun while she’s forced to cough, splutter and laugh so hard her insides hurt. The reflex to try to buck Joohyun off or twist out of her clutches nips at her incessantly.

Although she really shouldn’t worm around like that, because it’s only making Joohyun’s job easier with how her jumper rides further and further up with every inch she wriggles away.

It almost makes Joohyun think her little songbird wants to be tickled.

“Aw,” she coos, playfully tweaking unintentionally exposed ribs. “So cute, Wannie. You want it here, too?”

Seungwan is breathless from the tickles before she’s even processed what Joohyun’s said. Those tantalising touches never linger on any part of her long enough for her to develop a resistance to them. Not that she could even if she tried. She’s as sensitive as Joohyun is skilled. And Joohyun strikes with dreadful precision, switching between light skittering and then deftly kneading her fingers into every spot that wrings Seungwan’s lungs for all they’re worth.

The smooth tile is cooling against her feathers, even if her wings are twitching beyond her control, trying their hardest to flip her over to give her some shot at escaping. She barely manages to crawl a few inches away before there’s a firm grip on her ankle, all but dragging her back because Joohyun sure as hell isn’t done with her that quickly.

Trying to get away? She cocks an eyebrow, scooting up to sit on Seungwan’s butt, pinning her hips to the floor.

“Oh no, my poor birdie’s flipped herself over,” she feigns concern, gently resting her palms on Seungwan’s wings, stilling their fluttering and holding them steady. The sight of them unfolded, outstretched from the struggle and completely exposed has Joohyun catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “Did you hurt yourself here, Wannie? You need unnie to kiss it better?”

Seungwan shrieks at a pitch that’d have every dog in the neighbourhood cowering when she feels a pair of pillowy lips settle on that excruciating spot right where the arch of her wings meet her back, where she absolutely cannot stand to be touched.

Even under normal circumstances, Seungwan had made her swear to never spring upon her like that. And of course, by virtue of that alone, it quickly became one of Joohyun’s favourite places to touch her.

Luckily she’s too distracted now to protest.

The ‘kisses’ aren’t any less torturous than ten fingers going all at once.

Poor, tired Seungwan hardly has the energy to writhe as Joohyun continues to press her hellish butterfly kisses all along the length of those oversensitive appendages, nosing into her feathers and ruffling them gently with her breath. The younger’s expression contorts into silent agony when she feels the fingers return, this time digging into her armpits.

Fresh tears well up in the corners of her eyes as she lays there, flailing like a fish out of water, face down with zero leverage to combat her girlfriend’s merciless onslaught.

She’s as defenceless as a turtle on its back (or rather, a dove on its tummy). Her squirms are getting weaker, the laughter more strained, but it’s all so rewarding to her loving tormentor.

Seungwan is kept laughing till the hollow ring of the doorbell sounds through their apartment.

. . .

[An hour post stuffed crust pepperoni pizza with extra cheese]

Joohyun enters their room just as her girlfriend is getting dressed for bed, freshly showered… again. She lets out a low chuckle when Seungwan catches sight of her in her peripheral vision and hastily pulls the loose necked pajama t-shirt over her head.

“How was dinner?” she asks, arms folded and leaning against the door.

Seungwan rolls her eyes and releases her hair from its bun. “Too much cheese. We need to drink lots of water tonight or we’ll be pufferfish in the morning.”

“Aw, is someone grumpy?” Joohyun gives an uncharacteristically exaggerated pout and the latter hides a shiver.

Good god, please someone save her.

“Unnie, of course I am. We’re going to eat reheated carbonara sauce tomorrow no thanks to you,” Seungwan bluntly retaliates. “You’ve had your fun, now can you stop talking to me like I’m five, please?”

Naturally, her request falls on selectively deafened ears.

“Yah, seriously,” she punctuates the severity by manually unfolding her trembling left wing and pointing at it. “Look. I’m still shaking because of you. Now you're done, I really – ”

That’s all the grumpy talk she’s allowed before Joohyun jump-tackles her onto their bed, pinning her to it and watching sheer panic etch into deep cinnamon irises.

“When did I say I was done?” she asks, suggestiveness tracing the edges of her tone. She hovers above her, bringing a hand up to cup her face.

Seungwan hisses a laugh. “Unnie, I have a limit too, you know. You can’t just keep finding excuses to tickle the crap out of – ”

She chokes on a gasp when she feels a hand – the one she’d been as good as tortured under not two hours ago – trailing down her stomach… slipping past the elastic of her panties and –

– it just reminds her why she’ll always let Joohyun have her fun.

Because no matter how much she laughs, screams, cries or begs, there’s always a reward. Much sweeter than anything Seungwan thinks she could ever bake. Their sex life is anything but stagnant, however this is, more often than not, Joohyun’s way of making it up to her afterwards (much to her approval).

Or maybe she just wants to drive Seungwan to the brink of losing her voice so she won't have to hear the nagging about the next episode of Baking For the Seoul.

Which, by the way, came out tonight. And Joohyun made them miss it. She had better be praying they’d be able to find a copy online somewhere.

Either way, it’s so much more gratifying after an eternity spent howling your lungs out on the floor. Seungwan’s full attention is lasered down to where Joohyun is now softly caressing her under the thin cotton barrier. The warm ache beginning to settle in between her thighs prompts her to try to squeeze them together, but Joohyun catches on and wedges her knees in between them, spreading her even further.

“Ah,” she raises a smug brow as she leans in to press her lips to the base of her ear. Her own eyes darken with lust in response to her little dove writhing helplessly below her. “Be a good girl for me, okay, baby?”

It’s late. Seungwan can barely keep her eyes open. Oh, but she aches so badly.

“Still grumpy, hm?” Joohyun murmurs questioningly, hot breath fanning over Seungwan’s neck and echoing goosebumps over her skin. She glances down at the bulge of her hand stretching the fabric, fingers already coated in slick. Her index finger rubs against Seungwan’s clit. “Feel good, Wannie?”

Hopelessly turned on, it’s all the other girl can do to whimper in agreement.

The pleasing sound of those soft whines escaping right into her ear turns Joohyun’s grin into something downright wolfish. She gives the swollen bud a few more leisurely strokes before retracting her hand completely, leaving Seungwan squirming in anticipation with whatever energy she has left.

Joohyun tastes the arousal on her fingertips. “Mm, I love how small you look right now, in my hands. So small and needy.”

Seungwan pants out a quiet “please, unnie”, clasping a shuddering hand over Joohyun’s and guiding it back down to the heat in her panties. She rolls her hips up into her palm, silently begging for her reward for being such a ‘willing’ participant in the one-sided games they played today.

After letting her gaze linger for a second, Joohyun shifts so she’s lying next to Seungwan. She slips her hand back in and squeezes firmly, revelling in the hoarseness of the girl’s voice. Velvety lips delicately map out her shoulder, and Seungwan has to fight to keep her eyes open to drink in the image of Joohyun pressed up against her, right hand cradled under her neck, propping her head up so they can both see the other one teasing her down her underwear.

It’s when Seungwan turns away to frustratedly pout at the suspense that Joohyun smiles and gives her a quick peck on the nose.

“I’ll continue if you promise not to pass out this time, okay baby bird?”

She bites back a snort watching Seungwan nod like she’s ever been able to stay awake after.

Then she has to bite back another because since when has she ever not continued even after being fed these empty promises, time and time again.

Anything to keep her precious Seungwan happy.

#red velvet #wenrene #wendy #irene #wing kinks are only valid if you exploit the crap out of them #so irene's got the right idea

37 notes · View notes

3rachabffs · 4 years

Text

not a date (maybe a date) ➺ zhang yixing

◦ pairings: yixing x reader

◦ word count: 2.6k

◦ prompt: parent!au + meet messy, exes + “you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

◦ description: when sehun tells you that he convinced his friend to babysit your daughter for you, you can't say that you're thrilled. most of sehun’s friends are exactly like him—partiers, irresponsible, so on and so forth. but meeting said friend puts all your worries to rest.

◦ a/n: cross-posted on ao3

“I can babysit.”

“Sehun, you have the emotional capacity of a brick.”

You say that lovingly, of course. Sehun is your best friend and has been since you two were snot-nosed toddlers fighting over who gets to go down the slide first. The only thing that has ever changed in your relationship is that now the two of you fight over who gets to write what editorials for the magazine you work at.

However, you loving him doesn’t change the fact that he’s a semi-irresponsible partier who drinks from dusk until dawn and has no problem with speaking whatever is on his mind, even if it means hurting people’s feelings. As an adult, you can appreciate those traits (to an extent), but imagining him taking care of a child, especially your child… Well, there would be lots of crying and screaming. And that’s only taking Sehun’s reaction into consideration.

“You know,” he replies, “I would take great offense to that if you weren’t one hundred percent correct.”

Sehun spins around in his desk chair and takes a sip of coffee (it’s only 10 AM and he’s already on his third cup, trying to fight the hangover) before promptly turning back around and wiggling his perfectly sculpted eyebrows at you. “I have an idea.”

“Should I be scared?”

“No, no. Of course not.” He pauses, and then sighs. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what? I’m not giving you a look.”

“Yes, you definitely are. You’re giving me your “Sehun is stupid and I’m not gonna go along with anything he says” look.”

“This is just my face!”

“No, your eyes are deader than usual.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Just trust me, will you?” And with that Sehun gets up from his chair, smooths out the wrinkles from his suit, and begins to head towards the elevators.

You slowly spin in your own chair to follow his path as he walks, arms crossed disapprovingly across your chest. “And where are you going?”

“To talk to a friend of mine in Art Media. I’ll be right back, babe.”

You can't help but roll your eyes at his antics. You thought he would stop with the pet names after the HR violation but once the higher-ups found out that the two of you weren't dating and Sehun was very much gay, everyone seemed to stop caring about it (including whoever reported the situation in the first place).

Turning back to your desk, you continue typing up the editorial you were working on prior to the whole "need-a-babysitter" fiasco. You're still not quite sure what you're going to do—maybe you should just cancel the cooking class—but that's an issue you can focus on during your lunch break.

Sehun doesn't come back until you're already printing what you wrote so that you can run it upstairs to your editor. You raise an eyebrow at the mischievous smirk on his face.

“What did you do?”

"I got a babysitter for you."

Alarm bells begin to go off in your head immediately. Sehun said the person he was going to talk to was a friend and all the friends you've ever met of his have been exactly like him—partiers, irresponsible, so on and so forth.

Getting out of your chair, you grab Sehun's hand and pull him towards the break room. He follows quietly, but only until the two of you are a safe distance away from the rest of your coworkers. Once you're behind closed doors, however, he pulls his hand away and gives you one of his signature looks, the—

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I appreciate you trying so hard to get a babysitter for me but, Sehun, come on! I've never even met this guy, how am I supposed to trust him with my child?"

"Well, he—"

"Is he one of your clubbing friends? One of the ones you stay out with until 4 am? Oh my god, he's not the friend who drove you home drunk one night, right? Look, I'll find my own sitter, okay? Thanks for trying but you can tell your friend no thanks."

"Or you can."

You practically jump out of your skin at the new voice that interrupts your (one-sided) conversation with Sehun. Leaning against the doorframe is one of the most attractive men you've ever seen, what with his dark, slicked-back hair and proportions that could rival those of a male model.

"I-I'm sorry?" you stutter. "What did you say?"

Sehun claps, looking all too happy for the situation at hand. "Y/N, I'd like to introduce you to Yixing, the friend I was talking about. I brought him with me because I know you would want to meet him."

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that in the next two seconds you'll magically be teleported anywhere other than here. But alas, you are not Dorothy with her magic red heels. So, you decide to be a responsible adult and apologize.

"Yixing, I am so, so sorry for anything you might have overheard. It's just... when it comes to Naeun, I'm so protective."

Yixing, bless his heart, smiles at you and alleviates all of your worries. "Hey, it's alright. I'm the same with my kid, too." The surprise must be written all over your face because he continues, "I'm guessing you didn't expect Sehun to have friends—other than you—that have kids."

"Honestly? I didn't. He's kinda stuck with me since we grew up together, after all."

"Well, let me shock you some more. Another friend of ours, Jongdae, also has a kid."

Turning to Sehun, you cross your arms. "You never thought to introduce me to these friends of yours? People that I could relate to?"

Sehun just shrugs. "Not really."

You roll your eyes. "And that's why I never expect anything from you."

"I like not being held to expectations."

Yixing laughs, amused by your bickering. "Not to interrupt but, Y/N, now that you know I'm not one of his quote-unquote clubbing friends, do you trust me to take care of Naeun? I figured it would be nice for her and my daughter to hang out with one another since they're around the same age."

You take a moment to think but, honestly, it's just for show. In the few minutes you've spent with him, you can tell that he's trustworthy enough to take care of your daughter. "That sounds lovely. What time's your lunch? Maybe we can meet and discuss this further."

"I usually take lunch at 2, but I can fit my schedule with yours. I'm the Art Director so I don't think anyone will fight me on it."

Your jaw drops. "Oh my god, you're the Art Director? I'm sorry, I had no idea."

"It's fine, I don't expect people who aren't in the same department as me to know who I am."

"Right, of course not, I was just surprised.” You give Sehun a look, signaling to him that you want to discuss how he’s friends with the Art Director at a later point. Then, you continue, “Anyways, my lunch is at 1:30, so if that's good for you we can meet then."

"Perfect, I'll meet you in the cafe." With that, he claps Sehun on the shoulder and takes his leave.

Now alone, Sehun focuses all of his attention on you. "Oh, a lunch date, hm? Spicy."

"Sp... Spicy?" You fumble over the word, flabbergasted. "No, no, no, no. Not spicy. It's basically a business meeting. I'm just gonna learn a bit about him, tell him what he needs to know in order to babysit, and let him know what time I'll drop Naeun at his house. That's all."

"I don't know, it kinda sounds like a date to me," Sehun teases.

"In what world does that sound like a date?" Huffing, you push past him and head back to your desk. "Whatever, I need to get my editorial to Minseok. Bug off."

"Y/N and Yixing sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N—"

You hit Sehun on the head using your printed editorial, shushing him. "We're not in kindergarten anymore, Sehun! That's enough, I'm leaving."

"Alright, you minx. Go."

Getting into the elevator, you yell, "I'm not a minx!"

You're instantly swarmed with feelings of regret at your outburst when all of your coworkers turn to look at you and couldn't be more thankful when the elevator doors close.

"So, Naeun is four, right?" Yixing asks.

You take a moment to swallow the bit of sandwich you were chewing before responding. "That's right. And your daughter, Hana, is the same age?

"That's right." Yixing digs into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and takes out his wallet. It only takes him a second for him to locate her picture and hand it to you. "That's her, on her birthday this year."

The girl looks exactly like him, dimples and all. Her hair is a bit lighter though, which you assume is a trait she acquired from her mother.

"If you don't mind me asking, is Hana's mother still in the picture?"

Yixing sighs as he gingerly puts the picture back into his wallet. "No, she's not. She decided that being a mom wasn't her calling and decided to chase her passions in Rome or something like that."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry. That's... wow."

Yixing chuckles, running a hand through his hair and messing it up just enough that a few strands fall perfectly against his forehead. "It's alright. Based on how she acted during the pregnancy, I was expecting the worst. Plus I wouldn't really want her in Hana's life anyway."

"It doesn't sound like you really liked her that much, if I’m being candid."

"No, I guess it doesn't."

The conversation dies down for a few moments as you both take some time to actually eat your lunch. The silence is a comfortable one, which you appreciate. It’s not common for you to feel so at ease with a person you’ve just met.

Yixing starts talking again abruptly. "I think I did love Chengxiao when I was with her. Or at least I believed I did."

You look at him with your cheeks puffed out, mid-bite. You had thought it was a sensitive topic and didn't expect him to continue. Yixing takes one look at you and smiles, handing you a napkin. You take it despite the embarrassed blush on your cheeks. The way he looked at you... It was almost fond. You quickly cast that thought aside, however. Surely you're reading too deeply into things because you’re attracted to him.

"When I met Chengxiao, I was young. 22. I was just starting out at the company and I was so overwhelmed. I was looking for someone to distract me, and she was that person. We dated on and off for months and things got more serious when she got pregnant.

“My parents suggested I marry her, but she didn't want that and honestly, I wasn't sure I did either. I loved her for what she did for me, though. And even more so now that, because of her, I have Hana.

“But she was a wildcard, always looking for her next adventure. It's why I didn't expect her to stay after the pregnancy, but I'm not upset that she left. I don't think she would have loved our daughter the way she deserves to be loved."

Yixing stops, giving you a bashful look. "I'm sorry, you didn't ask for my life story."

You shake your head vehemently, not wanting him to feel like he overstepped by sharing so much with you. "No, no, it's perfectly alright! I'm glad you were comfortable enough to share something like that with me. It really speaks towards your character."

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And what does it say about me?"

"Well..." You pause, wondering where to begin. "It says that you're an incredible father. You care so much about your daughter and obviously put so much thought and care into anything that involves her. It also says that you're kind, almost to a fault. This woman, Chengxiao, she left you. Yet, you're still thankful to her and hold no animosity towards her. I find that to be very admirable."

By the time you're done, you're sure that your face is as red as an apple. Yixing has been paying you rapt attention, staring at you the entire time you spoke. It’s as if everything you had to say was of great importance to him.

Breaking out into a beautiful, dimpled smile, he thanks you. "I'm honored you seem to think of me so highly already. I hope I don't blow it on our next date."

"Our next date...?" Your heart soars.

He nods. "I'd really like to see you again. And not just when you drop Naeun off later."

"I'd really love that."

"What would you think about getting dinner on Friday night? You, me, and the kids."

The fact that he was willing to include Naeun and Hana on your first real date has you beaming. "That sounds perfect. More than perfect."

"I'm so glad."

On that note, Yixing gets up, smoothing out any wrinkles from his suit before throwing out his trash in a nearby garbage. You follow suit and he waits for you inside the elevator, foot holding the door. He presses the buttons for your floors—8 and 11, respectively. A few seconds pass—floor 1, floor 2—when suddenly he turns to you, grabbing you by the waist.

"Can I kiss you?"

You let your body answer for you, capturing his lips with your own. His touch is electric, sending a tingle down your spine. You get so lost in his touch that you don't notice another person getting on the elevator until they clear their throat.

You and Yixing pull away from each other immediately. Flushed and breathing heavily, you share a guilty look, akin to two teenagers who were caught making out underneath the bleachers. The woman who entered the elevator just laughs and shakes her head, before exiting on floor 6.

Soon enough, you arrive to your floor and bid Yixing goodbye.

"See you tonight at 8."

"See you then. I can't wait to meet Naeun."

The doors close, taking Yixing away. You have a strong urge to act like the dramatic lead in a teen romance movie and lean against them so you can slide to the ground in a lovesick daze. But you're not in a movie, you are an adult in your workplace. So, you smooth down your skirt and march over to your desk confidently, ready to tackle the rest of the work you have for the day. No matter how cute Yixing is, you won't let him hinder your performance.

Sehun eyes you as you approach and pounces the second you take a seat. "Tell me everything. I know something happened, you're practically glowing."

You keep your lips shut tight, not wanting to play into his antics. He gasps, taking your silence as an answer in itself. "You two didn't hook up in a storage room or something, did you? That'd be amazing."

Glaring at him, you respond, "No, we didn't." You turn back to your computer, ready to continue your work, but you can feel his stare boring into your side. With a sigh, you concede. "We did kiss in the elevator, though."

"Oh my god, yes! I should become a matchmaker or something, I swear."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Get back to work, slacker."

"Just say thank you."

There are a few colorful words you’d like to say that certainly aren’t even close to being thank you, but you bite your tongue. "Alright. Thank you."

"I better be your best man at the wedding."

"Oh, Sehun, shut up!"

#yixing #zhang yixing #exo smut #yixing smut #exo scenarios #yixing scenarios #exo lay #exo x reader #yixing drabble #yixing one shot #oh sehun #sehun scenarios #sehun smut #sehun one shot #sehun #mine #kpop scenarios

165 notes · View notes

luzeliza29 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4 of Obsidian

The heavy afternoon sun was high in the sky as Amalia and the man stepped out of the forest. The sight of their horses was a welcome sight to Amalia. After escaping the Ilele, they both had walked tiredly out of the forest, the silence between them filled with the sound of crunching leaves underneath their feet and the sound of birds, yet no tinkling bells.

The man bowed deeply when they reached the forest’s edge. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know if there’s anything I could possibly do to thank for saving my life. Hell, I think you saved not just my life but my soul as well.”

Amalia gave the man a weary smile. “You’re welcome. Honestly, though, I wasn’t even sure how to defeat it, it was mostly lucky intuition that we survived.”

She untied her horse and prepared for travel once again.

The man got down on one knee and took her hand in his. “If you will have me, I will be at your service until you feel that my life debt to you is repaid. It is my honor and duty to do so for such a brave woman such as yourself”

For a moment Amalia thought the man was joking until she saw the complete seriousness in his eyes and realized that this young man was absolutely serious about binding himself into her service.

She laughed a little. “You don’t have to do that. I admire your adherence to honor, but I’m not royalty. I’m just a woman and your thanks are enough for me.” She turned to get on her horse. “You and I can go our separate ways now.” With a joking smile, she told him, “just be careful next time. And if you see a woman dancing and singing in the middle of the forest, maybe you should assume that she probably just wants to eat you.”

“At least let me escort you to the next town over. That is, if you wouldn’t mind the company for such a short while” the man said.

With the reins in her hands, she looked at him with a slight half-smile. “I suppose not. I’ve been traveling alone for a while now. I wouldn’t mind a little company.” She extended her hand to him “My name is Amalia.”

He shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Amalia. My name is Nathaniel Sewell. But you can call me Nate.”

They set out on their horses and onto the winding road before them. The rays of sunlight shining in between the trees have the woodlands around her a feeling of ethereal beauty.

Amalia thought back to the Trisgol she saw earlier. Was this what it was warning her about? The Ilele? No, that didn’t feel right. The impression she was left with was of something even more terrible, something that ran chills up her spine in uneasiness. She had hoped that everything was going to be okay now, but she still felt like something was…. off. She felt as if something else, something worse was waiting for her, and she had no other choice than to keep going and face it. She glanced at Nate. Was it him? She didn’t think so either. However, she felt curious to know more about Nate. He certainly wasn’t a normal man, she felt sure he had some magic inside of him also.

“So, Nate tell me where you’re heading. You seem like a seasoned traveler to me. Like someone who’s seen a thing or two” Amalia asked.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ve spent quite a few years of my life traveling and exploring. Done some things. Met some interesting people I suppose. I’ve realized that the world I grew up in is so much more… interesting…. then I thought it was, but in the end, I suppose I’m just trying to find myself and maybe get some answers”

“Have you got any stories? Any tales of daring adventures” she asked.

He chuckled. “Maybe a few. Perhaps more than a few.”

“ I used to sail in my younger years. And it was really amazing. Amazing and terrifying. The ocean’s this endless expanse of unknown territory. One time, my crewmates and I were just doing some regulatory work patrolling the sea and we this shimmer in the water far off. It was coming towards us and we were all kind of hoped it’d be some sort of mermaid, the ones in the stories. ” The man’s face looked forward wistfully. “Alas, I couldn’t have been more wrong”

“Something worse, I’m guessing”

“Unfortunately, yes. While we were waiting the captain told us to ready the harpoon. Turns out it was this gigantic sea serpent. It rose up from the water like a shining metal tower. And when it opened its mouth you could see that it had row upon row of sharp teeth. I was scared shitless, but my captain, he was no stranger to this particular sea serpent.”

“We took a harpoon and we hurled it at the great beast. My captain was so crazily nonchalant about the whole thing though. He was smoking his cigar the entire time”

Amalia laughed. “He sounds like quite the man.”

“He was one of the best men I’ve ever met. Anyways we shot that massive serpent again and it crashed down back in the water again. I was amazed and we were all ready to break out the ale as a celebration, but my captain told us that we had haul our asses away from here because we had only just killed a baby serpent and the mom was going to come after us if we didn’t get away fast enough.”

“That’s insane”

“I couldn’t believe it either, but we got away as quickly as we could and back to land. My rookie self got used to all the craziness on the open sea. Eventually. And believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”

“Do you miss it? It sounds like you enjoyed it.” Amalia asked.

“Sometimes, but I left it all behind.”

Amalia wondered why, but she didn’t want to press on what seemed like a sensitive subject.

“And what about you? You seem just as much of a traveler as me.”

“I suppose you could say I’m a researcher and I’m always looking for answers. The world is so much more than what we can see.” She rolled up her sleeves and showed him her tattoos. “These” She pointed to her tattoos. “they let me sense the world around me and channel some of that energy, some may even call it magic.”

“That’s amazing”

“Do you want me to show you? Give me your hand” They stopped their horse, and she took his hand in hers, their palms pressed together.

“Don’t be scared.” She looked up at him, her eyes glowing completely white. “I can sense magic inside of you too.” She could feel a swell of emotion inside of him too. She could feel his confusion, his hopelessness, and his anger. It felt at odds with his caring demeanor. She looked at his brown eyes and the smile lines on his face and saw a very caring man.

“Magic. Like black magic?” He said. She noted the sound of worry in his voice.

The light from her tattoos extended into Nate’s skin, tracing his skin in lines of light that ran along his body. “You’re quite a curious person, you know. But you’re not evil or bad.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“The type of magic I use allows me to connect to others. It’s not like what witches do, so please don’t burn me at the stake. It’s like an extra sense. Kind of akin to a metal conductor, but I conduct magical energy.”

“What you can do is amazing. Is that how you were able to revive me? By conducting the magic inside of me?”

“In a way, yes. I used my own magic and, in a way, flooded your system with my own energy because the Ilele fed off of the energy inside of you. Some, like you, possess more magic than others. Normal humans probably wouldn’t have survived as long as you. Their death would’ve been immediate. I bet that Ilele was going to feed off you for much longer than a normal human”

“You can tell? You know what I am?”

She could see his eyes twinged with fear. He was really quite a curious man, especially for a vampire. Most vampires weren’t as nice. What a curious man you are, she thought.

“That you’re a vampire? I’ve met others like you.”

“Some vampires are good, others bad. You’re quite a contradiction. I can sense you fighting within yourself.”

“I know what I am and I…..I…..I just want to be normal again,” he said.

“I don’t know of any cure to vampirism. I’m sorry.”

Nate looked crestfallen. That moment of hope was gone now.

He sighed. “I didn’t want to be this way. It was forced upon me. This insipid curse. That’s why I left. That’s why I’m here. I want answers. I need answers or at least something to let me know that there’s at least some good to being this way.”

“I have to admit, most of the vampires that I’ve met haven’t been as…..erm….nice as you. But there was one that my family and I had met. She was quite ancient, but she wasn’t evil. She decided for herself what type of person, what type of vampire she wanted to be.” She squeezed his hand. “You know, just because you have magic flowing through your blood now doesn’t mean you’re a monster. I’ve met monsters before, trust me. Both human and nonhuman. They’re monsters because they don’t have love or compassion, or they choose to reject their humanity. You can choose.”

“I try, but I’m afraid one day I’ll just give up and become the monster so many people like me have become. I just need to know if there’s an end to this curse. Anything.”

Amalia knew that there were some people in Budapest, people like her parents and her that could perhaps offer Nate some more information on vampirism. Perhaps even her parents might even be able to offer him some answers. She knew there were other Solomonari people in Budapest, one’s whose knowledge and experience of the world and magic far exceeded her own. She contemplated for a moment if whether she should help him on his quest for answers and let him accompany her, at least for a short while, on her journey. He seemed desperate for answers. She still sensed danger coming her way. But there was no harm in just letting him travel with her to Budapest, right?

“There are other people like me, who are far more knowledgeable and might be able to offer you the information you seek. I can take you to meet them and they can help you.”

He looked up at her hopefully. “Really? You would do that?”

She nodded hesitantly. “Yes. We’ll have to travel to Budapest though.”

“Anything’s fine with me. I’ll be the best traveling companion you’ll ever have. He smiled. “At your service, you’re majesty.”

Amalia rolled her eyes. “You’re quite a dramatic vampire, aren’t you? A little bit of a hopeless romantic? Or are you going for a chivalrous knight-in-shining-armor type?”

He grinned. “Both” His smile widened. “I can even sing. How ‘bout it? Are you up for a little song?”

“Not really”

“I’ve been told my voice can enchant even the most stubborn of maidens.”

“I thought you were supposed in my service as my humble traveling companion.”

“Just one song?” He looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

She looked at his brown eyes, full of amusement and teasing sadness.

“Fine”

With a dramatic breath, Nate broke out into a chorus of singing:

There once was an old man named Bill

And oh boy, was Bill feeling ill

People asks him “why so down?”

Ain’t got no topsy-turvy turn around?

He paused for a moment and grinning at her said, “Unfortunately………all the songs I know are old sea shanties. Don’t mind the lyrics though.”

To his reply, he says to them

Ain’t gonna get ‘em

Oh poor Bill

Feeling so ill,

Cause he got no chum

To give him some bum

Chum said not today

Cause’ other bums need some fun

But, oh boy that’s all he needs.

Poor Billy Bill Bum Chummy Chum Chum ain’t got no Bum.

Amalia rolled her eyes, but she felt a smile tugging at her lips. He did have a good voice, after all.

With that they set about the winding forest road and onto the next town, Nate’s bawdy voice ringing out into the forest.

1 note · View note

peachywise · 5 years

Text

nullify part 2

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader

- part ii: the broken alarm clock || ⋆ part i ⋆ part iii ⋆ part iv ⋆ part v ⋆ part vi ⋆ more parts to be released

- synopsis: You've heard of people having rude awakenings before, but you'd never actually experienced one yourself. That was until Klaus Hargreeves broke into your apartment, banging pots and breaking your clocks. This idiot just can't seem to go away.

- notes: wow, okay thanks for all the love so far on this guys!! I hope you enjoy part two. originally this had a lot more but it got a bit too long, so I cut it in half. part three will be up pretty soon. let me know if you want on the tag list. tw in this one for swearing, fire, and mild violence.

link on ao3

_______________________

Dreams have a funny way of making unconscious fears rear their god-forsaken heads in all too terrifying ways.

You’d been plagued by a particular nightmare for years, ever since you were a kid. It used to occur every night when things had been particularly bad, making your already so cruel waking days extend longer with sleep that should have been a type of escape. Now it only happened when you felt exhausted or anxious. Sometimes both. Okay, mostly both. You should have taken some comfort in the familiarity of the dream given the particular instability of your life, but alas, it was what it was.

And it was complete and utter horse shit.

It always started the same. You woke up in your childhood bedroom cluttered with crayon drawings and clothes scattered about, everything caught on fire like juvenile kindling. Your flannel pajama pants—the ones with the ugly looking green bunnies you thought were hilarious— had just caught a bit of the flame, burning away the fabric and charring and licking the skin of your leg, bubbling and making an awful smell. You barely managed to smack it out with your pillow before forcing your too adolescent and unstable force field up.

This was when the dream would begin to differ. Sometimes different things or people trailed into the room, watching you as you watched them, the house crumbling down to burning decay and ash while you sat crying in your little bubble, sweating and straining to keep it up and full. Sometimes they talked. Other times they didn’t. As you got older, anger tended to mix in with the panic and desperation you’d felt in the situation, aimed at whatever or whoever you believed had caused the flames.

Tonight, this dream's starring opponent stood all too close to you while you struggled and wailed. Reginald Hargreeves towered over your cowered figure, but your gaze wasn’t on him. No, your eyes fixated on the uniform-clad Five and the Cheshire grinning, kohl-lined eyed Klaus behind him who greeted you with an irritatingly ironic, “hey, hot stuff.”

Odd. You’d never felt both terrified and annoyed in these dreams before.

“It’s time for you to wake up.”

Well, that was new too.

“W-what?” You sputtered out, slightly loosening the death grip tight around your legs, eyes searching Klaus as his voice ringed louder and clearer than the haze and blaze of the fire.

“Come on, wake up!” Klaus yelled again, pushing Reginald away as he stepped up closer to your bubble, close enough to burst it.

And then your eyes cracked open, and your nightmare followed you into consciousness as one of your larger pots was placed so close to your face that you nearly smacked into it on time to the wooden spoon Klaus was already rhythmically slapping it with, hollering repeatedly as he did, “wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up!”

No one could blame you for your knee jerk reaction. Any sane person would have reached over for their alarm clock and hit the person who broke into their apartment over the head like you just did now. No one would also blame you for screaming. Your brain hadn’t even registered yet that it was Klaus who loomed over you. It was a fucking jarring way to wake up, for Christ’s sake.

Klaus immediately dropped the pot and spoon to grab his head, yelling out an overdramatic, “ow!” Too bad the pot landed with a hard thud on your stomach, causing the air to rush out of you and a groggy groan to leave your still panicked body in unharmonized synchronization with his howl of pain.

The now broken alarm clock which stopped ticking in your hand probably would have let out a cry of pain too if it could. But it was dead. Klaus was going to be too in a moment.

“Look what you did!” You shouted, throwing the sheets off your body as you scrambled off your mattress, nearly tripping on your feet as you did. Shoving the clock in his face, you continued with, “you broke my clock!” using your other hand to subtly clear the sleep out of your eyes.

“I broke your clock? You broke my head!” Klaus bellowed back, gripping his forehead in a way you thought was just a little too theatrical.

Shoving his arm, your face furrowed in an aggravated frown as you grumbled out an exasperated, “and you broke into my apartment. I win. What’s next, want to break my sink as well? Go ahead, you’d be doing me a favour. It’s the only way the landlords going to come look at my shitty plumbing.”

“Oh, of course, pleasure to be of service,” sarcasm dripped from his tone, similarly to how the blood dripped on your clean carpet from the cut in his head when he removed his hand to give an equally as sardonic curtsey your way.

Great.

Turning to grab a handful of the Kleenex from your bedside table, you hurriedly reached up and pressed it to his head to stop any further damage befalling your security deposit. “stop bleeding on my stuff,” you swore. “Come on, let’s go to my bathroom.”

“First you hit me, and then want a morning triste in the bathroom?” Klaus tisked. “My my. You’re a little wildcat, aren’t you? I like it.”

You tried to ignore the fact he just followed up that comment with a growling noise like he was one of those creepy men in old 70’s movies, but you couldn’t. Instead, you decided not to take the moral high ground and flicked his cut over where you still had the Kleenex pressed. A pathetic exclamation of “hey!” brought a smug smile to your face.

“Come on, sit down. Let me see if I have anything to clean that up with,” you muttered, ushering him to sit on the lid of your closed toilet seat, grabbing his hand and putting it on the Kleenex-gauzed wound before bending down to rummage through the cabinet under the sink. “Want to tell me how you got in and why you’re here in the first place?” Sudden dread coursed through you as images of what else he could have broken flashed in your mind. Turning back around with wide eyes, you implored, “please tell me my front door isn’t hanging off its hinges.”

“Well you certainly think highly of me,” he uttered back, sniffling loudly as he slouched forward, eyes momentarily flashing behind you before quickly glancing your way again. “Your door is perfectly intact. But you really should lock the window on your fire escape. There are some nasty creatures out there. If you don’t watch out the boogeyman might get ya.”

Of course, he fucking climbed through the window. You bet he didn’t even try the door first, knocking or breaking in. His first instinct was to just climb up and—

Wait.

“I keep that unlocked because the ladder up to the fire escape is broken and I’m on the third floor. Did you bring your own ladder just to get in here? Forget the boogeyman, I’ve got a real life psycho sitting on my toilet. Did you happen to bring a knife too? Let me just get in the shower really fast and you can fulfill your Norman Bates fantasy. ”

“I mean, if you’re offering to get in the shower,” Klaus started, but before you could whack him on his wound again, it seemed like an invisible force slapped him upside the head, jerking him forward as he gave what was now his third cry of pain in under ten minutes. You were so shocked that you fell back on your butt, eyes frantically searching for whatever had made your thoughts turn into action. This wasn’t your power, right? You couldn’t do that. You didn’t want that. You would have a panic attack if—

“Christ on a cracker, Ben! It was only a joke! Death has made you so sensitive.”

Oh thank God, it was just a ghost.

Klaus sneered as his eyes glanced up at what was seemingly air in front of him as he had a conversation with his… invisible? Yeah, sure. Let’s go with his ‘invisible’ brother. “I am just being my perfectly charming self.” He paused, face reacting to whatever Ben must have said as he made the most melodramatic eye roll you had ever laid witness too. It was a little impressive, actually. Not that’d you mention it. No, you just watched the sideshow in front of you play on in jarred, mildly entertained, fascinated silence.

“I am not scaring ‘em off—” another pause, another exasperated shake of his head. “You don’t think I know that? I know we need them. If I go back there alone, our baby assassins going to shoot my balls off!”

Baby assassin? What, is like the new tickle me Elmo? If he was trying to ease Ben’s concerns, he was doing a terrible job of increasing yours while he did it.

As Klaus continued yelling, rambling on certain obscenities in the direction of your wallpaper peeled wall, you sat back up and turned back to your cabinet, pushing various bottle beside until you found the peroxide and cotton pads. Standing back up, you walked over to Klaus and swatted your hand in front of him, hoping to diffuse whatever argument had since gotten boring and headache inducing in your mind.

��As much as I’ve enjoyed this episode of Caspar the slap-happy ghost versus his dipshit brother, can you guys shut up long enough for me to clean this cut and get you the hell out of my apartment?”

Klaus immediately closed his mouth as both eyebrows shot up. Glancing over your shoulder one last time, he stage whispered to ghost boy, “they’re so touchy.”

Reaching over, you took the Kleenex from his hand to toss it in the trash, noting how the cut had stopped bleeding. Grabbing his chin, you wordlessly tilted his face up, angling it slightly towards the bathroom’s fluorescent light, leaning in closer to inspect it.

“Looks superficial. It’s fine” you stated, letting go of his face as you twisted the cap off the peroxide bottle, tilting it to soak one of the cotton pads.

“Well which is it, am I superficial or am I fine?” He quipped back, a lazy smile curving his lips.

Deadpanning, you replied, “you’re a pain,” before unceremoniously pressing the cotton pad to the cut maybe a bit too hard. Klaus once again winced in pain as he inhaled a sharp intake of breath, jerking his head away.

Well, make that four cries of pain now in under ten minutes. If it happened one more time, you wondered if you’d get a prize.

“Such cute pajamas for someone so utterly devilish,” he jibed, reaching out a hand to absently pluck the sleeve of your brightly blue coloured flannel. You slapped his hand away and he pouted like a child scorned. Oh, boo hoo.

Pressing the cotton pad back to his forehead, a little softer this time, Klaus visibly relaxed as you cleaned the wound. “You never answered my questions. Seriously, how did you get up that fire escape?”

“Well, if you haven’t figured it out yet, my darling brother has recently acquired the art of physical touch. I climbed on to his shoulders.”

Pausing, your eyes bugged out a bit as you turned your gaze to his. You never thought about that being possible. You’d always just been worried about one robber. Fuckin’ idiot. “I should really lock that window, huh?” Klaus snorted in affirmation.

As you finished clearing the blood from his pale skin, you leaned slightly back to inspect that it looked fine. “I don’t have a Band-Aid, but I think you’ll survive.”

Klaus held up a finger, an amused look flashing in his eyes as he used his other hand to dig through too-tight leather pants pocket. Standing up as he pulled a band-aid wrapper out, you watched as he made his way over to the mirror above your sink, ripping it open and putting on a very pink, and very floral, Hello Kitty Band-Aid.

Twirling back around, he raised both hands up and motioned towards his new accessory, asking, “what do you think?”

You were quiet for a moment, then you nodded. “I think that makes sense.” Klaus grinned.

As both of you made your way back out of your bathroom and into your shoe box sized slightly messy bedroom, you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back against the wall. Klaus made himself feel at home as he poked around the various knick knacks. “Seriously, why are you here Klaus?”

“Have you suffered a bout of amnesia since last night?” He questioned, turning a sideways glance your way before he continued on his little expedition of your things. “I’m here to bring you to meet the rest of our happy family. Five thought you would be more willing to come with me than him.”

“And here I was thinking he had some semblance of intelligence,” you muttered, pushing yourself off your wall to go nudge him out of the way when he moved to go open one of your drawers. Why would Five think you’d be more willing to go with homeless Mick Jagger? You’d only met him once. You’d only met both of them once, in fact.

“Well you’re not exactly kicking and screaming to get me out of your apartment now, are you?” Klaus almost purred, brushing a hand across your shoulder as he swirled behind you, beginning his snooping once again. “In fact, it seems like someone was all too willing to play nurse to a cut I easily could have cleaned myself.” Picking up a picture frame from your bedside table, an odd look crossed his face before you snatched it from his hands, setting it face down. Now you were getting irritated. Whether it was with him, or yourself given the unnerving truth of his statement, you didn’t exactly want to delve into it at the moment.

“You bled on my carpet. I couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t bleed on the rest of my things before you managed to do a shitty patch job,” you replied easily back, averting your gaze from his as you took a few steps away.

Klaus made an elusive ‘hmm’ noise in the back of his throat. And then he flopped on to your bed, leaning back against the headboard as he grabbed your fuzzy white blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders and throwing it over his head like a cloak, curling into it as he contentedly smiled, “cozy.”

You picked up your pillow and tossed it at his face.

“Look, you guys can’t just barge into my life and expect me to go along with whatever this is. I’ve spent a good part of my life trying to stay out your way praying I never meet your dear old dad. Now if you’ll excuse me, today’s my day off and I intend to spend it quietly alone in my empty apartment.”

“Our dad? This had nothing to do with him,” he said, sitting up straighter as he dropped the blanket off his head, studying your face with a slight tilt to his head. Looking at him in silence, you rolled your hand in a ‘come on’ to signify for him to continue and stop being so freaking elusive.

“We need your help to stop the end of the world.” Then he threw his arms up with jazz hands, excitedly saying, “isn’t that so much fun?

Huh.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you gave a curt nod before twisting around, picking your phone off your receiver as you began dialing a number.

“Who are you calling?”

“The cops.”

Boy, was he also the Flash? You had never seen someone move so fast in your life. Ripping the phone from your hand, he slammed it back down on the base then gripped both your shoulders, pushing you away from it as he completely crowded himself in your personal space. Slight alarm skittering across his eyes. “Come on, is that really necessary? I’m not playing around.”

“Why should I believe you? Trust you?” you shot back, shrugging off his grip as you folded your arms around yourself. “As fun as you are to banter with, this is fucking crazy! You guys knew what I could do. You guys knew where I worked, where I live, what my name is! Now you say you need my help saving the world? Calling the cops seems like the natural progression of how this interaction should go on my side.” Jesus, where you hyperventilating? Where was that phone? You had to get that phone.

Klaus crouched lower to your height, arms stretched out like he was trying to calm a wild deer. Bitch. “Okay sweetheart, you need to calm down for just a second,” he soothed, and you couldn’t help but exhale a short, unamused laugh. “You know us, you know what we do. Or at least what we did. The Umbrella Academy isn’t some mastermind organization, we were just a group of kids brought together by a man with a god complex who so desperately tried to mold us into those bullshit cliché, good Samaritan superheroes. We’re fucked up, but we wouldn’t just come after an innocent like you for no reason. You have free will in this, okay? All I’m doing is asking, not telling you to come. Just let me take you to everyone. Five can explain this all better than I can.” He took your continued silence as an opportunity to continue his point, adding in, “you can even bring your clock as a weapon if it makes you feel more comfortable. You’re a real danger with that thing.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he was pretty convincing. If they had wanted to hurt you, if they had wanted to use you, you had no doubt they would have forced it upon you by now. From what you had learned, it seemed nearly all of them had been estranged from their dad for a while now. Vanya’s book had been pretty enlightening on the horrors that had occurred in that house, at least from her view point. So if Reginald was the one pulling their strings, then he was pulling their strings unbeknownst to them.

It also didn’t help that your curiosity was piqued. You always loved a good mystery.

“Alright,” you conceded, letting your arms fall back down to your sides. Klaus let out a long breath of air and happily grasped his hands in front of him, jokingly singing as he did, “Darling, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world!”

“Under one condition.”

“Oh, I was so close,” he sulked immediately under his breath, dropping his hands.

“You have to promise me that I can leave. Like no strings attached, I can drop off mid-conversation and slam the door on my way out, type of leave. I’m only there to hear what he has to say, ask some questions, and that’s it. I haven’t decided to help you guys.”

Raising his hand out, he gave you a knowing smile as he extended his pinky finger. “I promise,” he droned. Heaving a sigh, you lifted your hand to wrap your pinky around his in a child-like binding promise. He was lucky he had such sincere eyes.

Letting go, you took a tiny step back as you cleared your throat, feeling uncomfortable with the odd tension you now wanted so desperately to melt. “Well, get out. You and Ben. Let me change and then you can take me to your master, or whatever.”

“My master?” Klaus gasped, as you herded him over the threshold of your door. “Five is a child. I am clearly more superior.”

Giving a tight smile, you quirked your eyebrow up. “You sure about that? I got the impression yesterday that you’re more like his fun loving, but pitifully dim witted henchmen,” you replied, then swung the door shut in his face before he could have the last word.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfiction #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreeves x reader #five #five hargreeves #tua #klaus hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #ben hargreeves

199 notes · View notes

itsgentleteasingrae-blog · 6 years

Text

Gentle Host Tickles

Intro: Hi there! I’ve been dealing with finals and so I haven’t done much when it comes to writing or interacting with people. Recently I just had a strong feeling to want to write some fluffy gentle tickles, and then that maybe the Host would be a good character for this. I always imagined him to have a kind of toughness, as if he had a bad past, I mean the man wears a bloody blindfold/cloth over his eyes. So I figured with that, he would be much more sensitive (and possibly enjoy, wink wink) gentle tickles.

Thought process: Again, with the whole Host and gentle tickles. For some reason I had a thought that maybe he secretly enjoys it and that in his spare time somehow would do it to himself. One was dragging a feather around on his spots and just giggling away. However, with what I had in mind wouldn’t work. Another one was him using his own narrative powers to tickle himself with; however with that once he starts giggling he wouldn’t be able to make a clear sentence for tickles to continue (and I would have had Dark come in and save him since with celine’s powers, he may have a small fraction of narrative powers, nothing big like controlling someone, but enough to describe feeling). So then I was thinking that maybe, Host can use his narrative powers on the feather, so as he drags it across himself it feels like someone else is tickling him so his nerves don’t expect it’s actually their own user. Now at this point it was to come two paths. I could have it so the feather “malfunctions” and tickle attacks the Host, or a character walk in on Host and then a fluffy story with that. I eventually chose the latter, but now I do have an idea for the former. I figured telling my thought process could help other people with writer’s block take an idea and start there. And with that, onto the story!

Word Count: 1973

It had been a pretty calm day for the Host. Nothing too exciting was going on. He currently had been strolling around the library pondering at the vast amounts of literature displayed on the shelves. He had been feeling off lately, the feeling being very familiar to him. You see there was a reason the Host hanged out in the library when he had this feeling. It was a very personal space as not many come to visit the library.

This feeling he had, makes it almost impossible to be around the others. Perceiving all sorts of objects that could be weapons. No, not the dangerous kind. The kind that gives you goosebumps. The kind of weapons that bring tingles and shocks in your nerves. The kind that will tickle. Ah yes, the Host could barely stand straight when perceiving those objects without getting flustered. You see, my dear reader, the Host was in a mood. A mood to laugh you could say. A mood of playful teasing and tickling and bonding. However, that’s what had make this mood difficult.

Many upon many scenarios flew through the Host’s mind. Could they be possible futures, or are they secret fantasies? Questions came along with the visions. What if he were to say reaching for something the normal Mark ego cannot reach, but reachable just enough if he were to just stretch. Oh my, the mere thought of the amount of vulnerability made the Host shiver with delight. The Host loved this feeling. He loved the thought of bonding with the others over such a delicate and playful manner. But alas, the Host couldn’t tell. He felt bashful with the very thought of asking one of them to partake in the activity.

As much as he would have loved to pretend that he was in an…exposed state, he couldn’t even hide his bright flush that beamed from his face, matching the cloth wrapped around his head. And so, we lead to where the Host is placed in this situation. He merely only had to take care of it himself.

The Host glides over to the office area of the library, checking to make sure no one will see what is about to happen, although maybe he wouldn’t mind if they did either. He opened up a draw and plucked out a stiff, long, feather. Twirling the tool in his fingers he spoke, “It was then when the Host’s hand no longer became his own, until further notice.”

He then felt his hand go numb as it continued to hold the soft tool. It then raised itself up and brought itself closer until the feather brushed lightly against his collarbone and neck. The Host did not resist the giggling that escaped his lips. It felt nice. The feather oh so delicately flicking across his neck, at times moving up to tease the shell of his ears, before moving down to his collarbone once more. Try as he might, but the Host couldn’t help but twist his neck to protect the side being tormented with feathery kisses.

“Hehehehhahhaah nohohohoho!”

“Ah, I was beginning to wonder where that delicious laughter was coming from.”

The Host turned white, reaching for his attacker hand. Someone was with him, and that someone was the one and only Darkiplier. Unfortunately, his possessed hand knows his body too well and dropped the feather, and quickly diving into his coat and gently scratching at the open underarm that was given.

“EEHEHEHhehehehhehe n-n-nooohohohhoho enough pleehehhease! Desihihihist!”

The Host let out a surprised squeal at the contact under his arm. He had no way of retrieving his hand now until it decides to move on. What only made it worse was seeing Darkiplier stare at him curiously with an amused smirk. Oh god what would he think of him? Defeated by himself over tickling! Darkiplier continued to observe the silly Host as he held his arms behind his back as usual.

“Having a bit of trouble are we today?”

“Sh-sh-shuuhuhuhut up and hehehehelp t-the Hohohohost!”

“Such attitude towards your hero, but if I must.”

Darkiplier waltz over towards the Host and lifted his arm that was pinned to the desk to minimize the tickling, taking in the sweet frantic giggling as now the hand scribbled its dull fingernails across the open armpit.

“My my, it’s really going at it isn’t it?”

“Dahahahahahark please! The Hohohohost can’t stahahand you seeing hihihim like this!”

Now Dark COULD help the Host out and be done with it. However the sound of Host’s giggling was too much to pass by. Dark instead knelt down while still holding Host’s arm above his head and pushed his coat to the side. The former then began gently prodding his fingers up and down the Host’s side, delighted to hear the squeal the Host exerted.

“D-DAHAHARK?!”

“Yes Host?”

“IHIHihihit tihihihickles!”

Dark awed to himself with Host’s innocent choice of words. He allowed his fingers to very gently knead the fleshy sides of the Host, constantly switching to surprise him. Honestly, it was adorable seeing the Host jerk from side to side, doing his “best” to escape his devilish fingers.

“Oh really? Does it tickle, tickle, tickle? You got yourself into this, and now I’m beginning to wonder why. Care to tell Hosty?”

The Host shook his head. The sensations were driving him mad, in a good way. The hand gently scribbling away at his underarm, along with the kneading and spider tickles on his sides. It’s almost all what the Host could want. He could feel his face burn with a red hue of blush. His entire body trying to escape while his will attempts to keep him still so he could endure more. That is, when his hand switched and poked his tummy.

“EEEHEHEHAHAHAH NONONONHAHOAH!”

Dark bit his lip, trying not to laugh along with the Host. It was a very bubbly and happy laughter, similar to Wilford, but without the accent and slur. It was adorable, and perfect.

“I’m guessing you’re sensitive there? That’s frankly adorable Host. How could you for all these years hide this from us?”

It was then when Dark noted the feather that was dropped onto the floor. In order to reach it, he would need to let go of the Host. And let go he did. Bending down to retrieve the device, only to reel back up to notice the Host was using his free hand to grip the chair he sat in instead of protecting his sensitive tummy. Dark smiled adoringly at the Host. It was majestic to see someone who is normally stoic and monotone, speak so vibrantly and blush a beautiful red.

“YEHEHEHEHES!” The Host squealed out. He gripped his chair as soon as he felt his arm free. Just because it tickled so much from such a gentle touch, doesn’t mean he didn’t want it to stop yet. Of course, due to his hysteria, the Host was unable to focus and see the feather Dark held slowly float closer and closer to a piece of exposed skin on his waist until-

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHNONONONO DOHOHOHN’T YOU DAHAHHARE! PLEEHEHHHEASE!”

As much as Dark fought, he could no longer hide his fond smile for the Host. He gently dusted any patch of exposed skin, while the Host’s hand slowly pulled up his shirt. Afterwards, the hand then went to hold the Host’s free hand and allow Dark to do all the work. The Host’s nerves caught on fire as Dark drew shapes lazily around, sometimes giving the feather a small flick over the small pudge on the Host’s waist, earning a delightful squeal. Yes, this was exactly what the Host needed.

“Don’t I dare what? Tickle this adorable, sensitive tummy before me? Dragging this feather over every inch of flesh just gentle enough so it’s maddening? You know you lie, you do wish for that, do you not?”

Oh yes, Dark knew. With how flushed the Host was before he interrupted, with how he refuses to escape even when he’s free. Hell he’s pretty sure he’s seen Host lean into his fingers a few times. Plus, this wasn’t exactly the first time he’s seen Host do this. It’s not like the Host has the library to himself. It was honestly amazing to see the Host like this.

“Y-yoouohohohou’re ehehevihihihl…”

“Oh am I? I’m sorry, but I’m pretty sure a CERTAIN Host enjoys such delicate touches. But if you want evil…”

Dark then slowly made bigger shapes, big enough until one big circle was all that could be displayed on the Host’s abdomen. Dark made sure to be careful in slowly making the circles smaller, while making them seem like the same size. It of course worked until Dark slowly brushed the rim of his navel.

“How’s this for evil?”

“D-D-DaAHAHaahahaAHrk! P-p-p-p-please! N-n-noahaht THEehehhere!”

“I don’t know, from what I know this is your favorite spot correct?”

The Host simply blushed a bit more and attempted to hide his face in his arm.

“N-no…th-thahahat is f-f-false!”

Dark shook his head, acting disappointed.

“Oh Host, you don’t have to lie to me. Besides, little liars don’t get what they desire.”

Dark purred in a sing-song like voice. Host’s blush began running down his neck. He regained some of his sense to where he can see Dark’s crimson orbs staring, waiting for a response. Meanwhile that damned feather continues to tease. Host didn’t care anymore, if Dark has dealt with this for this long, he might as well open up. He turned his head towards Dark and gave a small nod.

Now Dark isn’t that cruel. Honestly he commends the Host for such bravery. Knowing the Host was able to sense him, he gave a comforting smile, before it twisted into a devious grin.

“Now, shall we?”

Nod.

“You’re funeral.”

He dipped the feather into Host’s bellybutton, fluttering it around and twisting it just so all the bristles touch every inch. The Host shrilled and boomed with laughter and arched like no tomorrow. Well except for the fact that arching caused the feather to plunge in deeper, causing his body to react in shock from so much energy in the bundle of nerves. Host shrieked and pulled back, his whole body thriving to just curl up right then right now, but he won’t let it.

“Oh? Did Hosty like that? Cootchie coo! Cootchie coo the bellybutton!”

Dark then, dipped the feather in just enough where it hits the bottom and the tip of the feather fluttering over the core of the nerves, the knot. As a grand finale, Dark then took his index finger from his free hand not holding the feather, and gently scratched the spot right under the ridiculously sensitive navel. That’s when the Host broke. With a final shrill, he let go of the chair and allowed his aching body to finally curl up, nearly falling out of the chair.

Dark looked at Host worriedly. He knew the Host was a tough man, but he still feared he took it too far. He pushed his fingers on Host’s chin to make him look up. There were a couple of red, blood tear streaks that painted over his scarlet face. The Host was still giggly as he recovered from the ghosty tingles and faced up with a smile, ensuring Dark that he was okay. Dark sighed and smiled fondly at the Host.

“Are you okay Host?”

“Heheyes, t-theheh…Host…is fine.”

“Good. Now Host, just know, you don’t ever have to be afraid to tell me if you are ever in this mood that you’re in. Despite how wonderous you look, you just looked so alone in here all by yourself. I know it’s going to take some time, but just know I’m here for you. Do you understand?”

The Host smiled, beaming with joy.

“Yes sir Dark, I understand.”

#tickle fic #tickle #lee!host #tickling #ler!dark #gentle tickles

39 notes · View notes

fluffandlove · 7 years

Note

🤐 -Silent Laughter + Ritsu x Takano? :3 ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Ahhh, Ginny Trash Binny thank you so much for the prompt! Haven’t written these two in aaaages and I’ve missed them

Summary: Takano had invited himself over for the umpteenth time and Ritsu decided to block the door to keep him from trespassing, but unfortunately his not-boyfriend plays dirty.

Word count: 1,5k OOPS

~ [Symbol drabbles] ~

“Let me in.”

“No.”

“Let me in.”

“No.”

This had been going on for a good few minutes and Ritsu was scared to death one of their neighbors would come out to ask what all the fuss was about. It was pretty late already and their hissed conversation felt like a couple of loud trumpets playing the national anthem in their quiet hallway.

They literally just got back from work after a long-ass day and Ritsu was seriously too fucking tired to deal with his boss right now. Sure, he did have a point that Ritsu wasn’t taking good care of himself and yes, maybe he had been living off cup noodles for the past three weeks or so, but that did not give him the right to just barge in like this.

When they got off the train and started walking home, Takano casually announced that he was going to come over, cook him dinner (even though it was, like, 11pm) and sleep over. Of course, Ritsu being Ritsu, screeched in response and fastened his pace, huffing that that would be highly unnecessary.

“Tell me, when’s the last time you cooked?” Takano asked, barely having to step up his game to keep up with him.

“None of your business.”

“Hate to burst your bubble, but you work for me. If you end up in the hospital again because you’re under eating it’ll be on me, so it is my fucking business.”

Ritsu halted, looked over his shoulder and glared daggers at him. “That’s your reason? You’re not even worried about me, you’re just worried about your reputation!”

Apparently that was exactly what Takano wanted to hear because he took a step closer so they were only inches apart and his lips curled into a small grin. “You’re offended. So you want me to be worried about you.”

Fuck. Ritsu snorted and started walking again, glad it was dark so Takano would not be able to see his reddened cheeks and nose. “I don’t. You were being very rude, that’s all.”

Their useless bickering continued until they reached their hallway where Ritsu mumbled a “Goodnight”, reached for his keys and unlocked the door. Takano invaded his personal space and Ritsu groaned, shoving him away with his shoulder, somewhat flustered from their proximity and pushed his door open. It was just like that one night after the party where Takano simply followed him into his home, but this time Ritsu was prepared.

He spun around and tried to close the door, but, of course, Takano was as stubborn as him had managed to stand in the doorway, holding onto the door and the wall.

“I thought I said goodnight!” Ritsu whisper-yelled and threw in his body weight.

“And I thought I said that I’d come over,” Takano replied oh so calmly and didn’t seem at all fazed by his attempt to get rid of him. “You need to eat, Onodera. Stop acting like a baby.”

“I’ll eat some damn fruit. I’ll be fine!” he said through gritted teeth as he put his other hand on the wall so he could divide his weight better. “Please-stop-pushing!”

Takano was barely pushing, though, he merely kept Ritsu from closing the door by standing there like the stupid asswipe that he was because he was just that strong. Ritsu, on the other hand, was already panting and red in the face from the constant pushing and started using his shoulder to push.

He was so focused on trying to get rid of him that he actually shrieked when a few sneaky fingers wiggled under his outstretched arm. Said arm instantly shot down out of reflex and Takano used this opportunity to push the door wide open so he could peacefully enter, but Ritsu was not about to give up and held out both arms defiantly, now standing in the middle of the doorway.

“You are not coming in!” he breathed, his senses still tingling from the aftershock. “Go to your own place!”

They looked at each other for a good ten seconds or so, trying to stare the other down in a silent war, until Takano cupped his waist with both hands. “You realize you won’t stand a chance if I tickle you, right?”

Twitch.

Poor Ritsu felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up when Takano gently tapped his fingers on the fabric of his shirt. That was so very low and childish that he could barely believe that this was actually happening. He was standing in his doorway, arms out, trying to act tough while his boss was threatening to tickle him to get his way.

This was not happening.

Absolutely not.

Squeeze.

Oh, shit, this was happening.

Ritsu’s spine snapped straight, his shoulders stiffened and he bit his lower lip when those large hands started kneading his waist, loosening his shirt in the process. His body twitched in response, doing some sort of awkward dance as those stupid fingers kept brushing over his sensitive spots.

Odd noises filled the playful yet annoying atmosphere because Ritsu was not about to give in and laugh like an idiot, even though his brain was practically begging him to. Bubbly giggles were threatening to escape, especially when his shirt was no longer tucked in and Takano could slip his hand under it, his fingers having access to his bare skin now.

“Nnh!” Ritsu squeezed his eyes shut, feeling so very hot that he might’ve been standing in a fucking sauna and protected every single shred of dignity he had left by standing there and taking it. “…Takano-san! S-stop that!”

“Well, it’s working. Your knees are about to give in, I think,” Takano said dryly as if he was talking about the fucking weather or some shit and it fueled Ritsu’s embarrassment and ticklishness even more.

It was true that his knees were trembling both from holding in his laughter and the jolts that were coursing through his entire body. Things only got worse because Takano’s hands crawled up higher, lightly brushing over his ribs and Ritsu couldn’t contain himself as he let out another girly shriek. “Takano-san…!”

His hands started slipping down the walls, but he remained upright, forever stubborn. It would probably be so much easier if he just gave in, because the chances of someone opening their door to check if a cat was being strangled or something were very high and he didn’t want to have to explain this situation. His dignity was already gone, anyway.

Even the tips of his ears felt like they were on fire, along with his face, his neck and the rest of his body. His brain was on red alert, responding to every little stroke and squeeze, and Ritsu could only writhe on the spot and press his chin to his chest.

Bad idea. That left his neck wide open for his son of a bitch not boyfriend who scribbled his fingers all over his ears and jaw. Ritsu almost choked then, scrunching up his shoulders, shaking with silent laughter. The large fingers skillfully avoided his shoulders, simply switching sides every time they almost got stuck and moved down to his underarms, which was definitely a good spot because Ritsu jerked back, almost losing his balance.

His lips parted to let out a very quiet whine, awkward puffs of air slipping out as he fought for his pride.

“Any second now,” Takano breathed, the smirk evident in his voice and Ritsu died a million deaths as the dam finally broke.

His jaw dropped, laughter spilled like a waterfall and he hugged himself, stumbling backwards, trying to get as far away from Takano as he could get. But alas, he got out of the way, so Takano didn’t waste any time as he calmly walked in, taking his bag with him and taking off his shoes.

Ritsu had his arms crossed over his torso, completely breathless, body still spasming, but still pissed enough to hiss, “I hate you so mu-”

Lips were covering his own, silencing him effectively. An arm slipped around his shaky body to keep him in place, the other free hand cupping his jaw. Ritsu wanted to protest, he really did, but he was so tired that he let it go and decided to give in. The hand slipped down his waist, towards his hip and a couple of nifty fingers started massaging the skin there, making him snicker into the kiss.

“It’s too bad that I didn’t get to hear your cute laugh more,” Takano whispered against his lips. “Let me hear it.”

That night Ritsu thought he would die from lack of air because Takano didn’t hesitate to tickle the absolute hell out of him after those words and if he was going to be completely honest with himself, he was very happy to hear that Takano wanted to hear his laugh.

Not that he was going to say that out loud.

#sekaiichi hatsukoi #ritsu x takano #tickling #tickle fic #onodera ritsu #takano masamune #my fic #otomiya-tickles #answered #i'm crying #100

193 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Raja's new outfit (Raja/Raven) ~ Hobnob

AN: AU where Raja gets a God complex and Raven has soft skin!!

My Dad has a bit of a God complex i think. Not all the time but when he’s doing lego he’ll make the little men do stuff like fight to the death and de-limb eachother. Once he made a houses of parlament lego model and did an all out lego election in wich he had final say over everything, proper unsettling. I leave the house whenever he starts that shit then sit outside tesco for a bit.

Anyway, set your standards lower than a limbo bar, its time to get freaky.

The room felt stuffy as Raja and Raven sat together in the now empty studio, cameras and various bits of tech facing towards them. They had just finished filming Fashion Photo Ruview, and were eager to escape the studio to grab a pint.

Raja didn’t dare look up, not after filming. The cameras did something to her emotionally. Each device felt like individual pairs of eye’s looking over Raja’s every feature, as if they were casting judgemental stares and broadcasting them to millions of viewers.

In a sense that was what Raja was doing too. She was critiquing outfits queens had put work, time and effort into, casting them aside as if they were nothing. She was in no position to take any moral high-ground when it came to judgment.

She felt like some sick false God. For Raja Fashion Photo Ruview used to feel more light, less forced. Nowadays she found herself wincing every time she uttered the words ‘boot’ from her mouth. She was shattering emotions with a single catchphrase, hurting feelings with a cheap gimmick.

A sick sick god.

Raja contemplated wether Raven felt the same sometimes. They were both equally ruthless when it came to critiquing, but she never saw that bit of hesitation in Raven. Part of Raja envied that. She kept her gaze fixed at the floor.

“Raven?” Raja spoke finally, turning towards the large green screen behind them. Hell, even the background was fake.

Raven looked up from her phone, raising a perfect brow. She looked immaculate as always, a total toot. Youtube comments seemed to agree, though people were always less than enthusiastic when it came to Raja’s looks. She used to be ’the look queen.’ Where did she go wrong?

“Ive been thinking it’s time to stop the show.”

Raven did a double take, her nude lips hanging open, her eyes a mixture of disappointment and confusion. Raja snapped her head back to the floor, biting the lower part of her lip.

“Raj I don’t understand” Raven began, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Everything’s been going fine…Is something wrong?”

Raja went tense. She scrunched her eyes for a moment as she was forced to think about all the pain she’d caused.

“Who are we to tell people what looks good and bad.” Raja balled her fists, locking eyes with Raven. “What gives us the right.”

Raven sighed, moving her hand away. Her lips thinned into a sympathetic smile. “Is that it? I thought I’d done something to upset you.” She chuckled to herself, flattening out a few stray hairs around her wig. “It’s just harmless fun raj, people know that. Beauty is subjective.”

Raja grimaced. Fun? It was anything but fun. How was she meant to toot and boot looks with all this crippling guilt. Why didn’t Raven feel the same way? Surely she felt something.

“i-i don’t look better than half the girls we judge. Im such a hypocrite.”

Raven was taken back a little bit. She paused as if considering her words. Aesthetics had always been a sensitive topic for Raja, and she wasn’t really keen about touching upon it.

“I used to be an icon Raven, you know that? A fashion icon. And here i am looking like-like…” Raja gestured to her outfit. It was a beige suit with a small stain on the corner from last nights lasagne. “This! telling other people what they’re doing wrong, just to feel better about myself.”

Raja embraced the silence that followed as Raven looked at her with concern. She needed to say that more than anything in the world. Her breathing felt erratic. After a long pause from the pair Raven finally spoke up.

“If it’s about feeling…inadequate then…lets get you a new outfit!”

A new outfit?

“The ultimate toot, maybe even a shoot?”

What Raja wouldn’t give to wear a look worthy of a shoot. She’d combust on the spot. She could almost see the youtube comments gushing over her eleganza.

The ultimate toot.

Raja was having her very own personal epiphany. She knew that a show stopper outfit would put her back in the book of legends. She’d be able to judge makeup and outfits without a hint of remorse, and even better, toot and boot again.

“Raven you always know just what to say.” Raja laughed for the first time that day. She looked up to her friend who was returning the smile.

This outfit would have to be something pretty special to rudeem herself. Something unexpected. Something…nude coloured? Raja looked over to Raven. She really was immaculate. Her face was beat for the god’s. She never managed to look stale despite wearing her makeup the same every day. Gorgeous.

“I don’t want to hear any more talk of you leaving.” Raven interrupted her train of thought, popping a mint into her mouth. “I don’t know what i would do without you.”

Raja offered a smile before patting her hand. Raven’s skin felt so smooth as her touch lingered for a little too long. Raven furrowed her brow but otherwise smiled back.

Smooth. Immaculate. God Raven was perfect.

Raja’s new outfit, needed to be made…of Raven’s skin.

“Thats enough emotions for one day, don’t you think?” Raven quipped, getting up from her chair. Raja needed to take action immediately if she was going to pull this off. Almost instinctively she grabbed her arm in protest.

“For fucks rake Raja what now?”

A pause ensued.

“Does…does this rag smell of chloroform to you?”

Raven groaned and reached to rub her face, only to find her hands had been restrained. Her eyes shot open as she felt her chest rise and fall erratically.

She looked down to her arms and legs, mouth agape in terror. All her limbs had been tied down with thick tulle fabric and hair. The entire scenario was odd to say the least.

She wasn’t at home.

She wasn’t in the studio either.

Raven’s surroundings were dark as her head darted around, searching desperately for any kind of answer.

“Nice of you to wake up.”

She recognised that voice anywhere. Raja Gemini.

“Raja why am i tied down? This prank is proper messed.” Raven said through shallow breaths, settling her gaze on the shadowy figure ahead of her.

“Prank? No…” Raja spoke softly taking a large step forwards, ruvealing grim contours of her face under the dim lighting. “Messed? Yeh a little lol.”

“Alright well…thats enough now just let me go.” Raven spoke with an urgent tone, giving an unconvincing smile. She noticed the glimmer of something metallic grasped in Raja’s hand. Alas, it was slightly too far out of her peripheral vision.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that Raven.” Raja deadpanned rolling a large metal table over. Raven feared the worse.

“Remember what you said earlier? An outfit worthy of the ultimate toot? Maybe even a shoot?”

“i-i may recall that yes.”

“Well i need you for that outfit Raven.”

“Like sewing tips?”

“I’m going to use your skin for my outfit.”

“What the fuck.”

Raven should of seen this coming. Who asks whether a tissue smells of chloroform. She’d been dicked over.

“You little shit i should’ve known.” Raven said, clenching her fists. “Untie me so i can knock you around.”

“SHhhhhhhh” Raja dragged a finger along Raven’s lips and smeared it around a little. “You and me Raven, we’ll go down in the year 7 history textbooks because of this.”

Raven began to sob. “How do you expect to make my flesh into fabric even i don’t think you thought this through.”

Raja brought a knife into Raven’s line of vision and grinned. “Goodnight Raven. Nevermore shall the burden of this heavy world drag you down.” She said, slowly hovering her knife over to the centre of Raven’s chest. “Any last words before i shank you up?”

“Yeah Manila should’ve wo-”

The knife was plunged. Raven’s expression softened as all life drained out of her.

Perfect. She was ready for…preparation.

Raja sat in the chair she always sat in.

Green screen behind her.

Cameras in front.

She grinned. The crew had entered the set moments prior and were enamoured by the craftsmanship of Raja’s outfit. Her poise, her elegance, the draping of the garment. Every move she took was her’s to control.

Raja had done it. She was a God.

Skinning Raven had been quite a task, though suprisingly satisfying. She’d dealt with network executives before, so skinning her best friend was nothing she couldn’t handle. After that it was all a matter of hems and stitches.

“Were about to…start filming…Where’s Raven?” One of the camera crew managed to choke out, never tearing their vision away from Raja’s masterful display of artistic genius.

Raja needed to come up with a classic excuse. Shit. What did they always say when one of them didn’t show up?

“She’s…sucking dick.”

All the camera crew nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer provided.

The director gave a countdown. The cameras began to roll, casting their visions to millions of viewers. After all, what is a God if not a public figure with influence over others? The bending of wills, planting opinions and views into young minds.

None of that mattered anymore though really.

All that mattered was Raja is the ultimate toot. ~

AN: If anyone knows how much stamps cost can they message me thanks.

#hobnob #raja's new outfit #raja gemini #raven #raja x raven #tw gore #rpdr fanfiction #submission #crack fic

21 notes · View notes

imsarabum · 7 years

Text

Worried For Nothing (M) // Choi Youngjae

Pairing: Youngjae x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Summary; After failing to keep your relationship a secret from the rest of GOT7, Youngjae assures you that you that everything is alright; in more ways than one.

Please note that this scenario is rated M for MATURE as it contains scenes of a sexual nature.

“See? I told you that you were doing all that worrying for nothing!” Youngjae pulled you closer to him in your bed after you snuggled in beside him.

“Shush, you!” you giggled at him, reaching up to take one of his cheeks in between your thumb and index finger. “You can’t blame me for being worried when I thought that us being in a relationship would have caused problems for your group” you continued smiling, but you let out a half-hearted sigh at the thought of what could have happened if things hadn’t of all turned out so perfectly.

Since being in a relationship with Youngjae for the past eight months, you had begged him to try his best to keep it a secret from the rest of GOT7. It wasn’t that you thought the other boys hated you – in fact, you knew they thought of you like a best friend or even a sister. But you didn’t want to be a spanner in Youngjae’s works or a hindrance to the group as a whole. Youngjae had kept true to his word – and you thought that you had both done a very good job at leading them all to believe that neither of you had any feelings for each other. But alas, the other boys pretty much already knew that the both of you were ridiculously in love with each other. Collectively, they all decided to let you both think they had absolutely no idea what was going on. However, Mark had seemingly let the cat out of the bag by saying something along the lines of “So – when are you going to finally admit to us that you’ve been going out with (Y/N) for like a year now? You know that it’s painfully obvious...right?” in front of the other boys, too. Which in turn, caused a round of roars and jeers from GOT7 – all except Youngjae whose cheeks burned a beautiful shade of crimson as he knew the jig was up. He had just told you that the boys were genuinely overjoyed to know that you both were an item; with Jaebum saying “I’m glad she’s the one for you – I feel like you can really be yourself with her. Nothing’s forced or fake...it’s all so natural when you’re both together” that made you almost burst at the seams with happiness to know that’s how GOT7’s leader thought.

“The only problem you ever cause me is I don’t get to see you enough. Seriously – I wish you could just come and move in with us so I can have you to myself all the time~” Youngjae pulled your back even further into his chest as you both became engulfed by the sheets around your bodies while he spooned you. You let a wistful sigh fall from your mouth – his sweet, gentle words mixed with his arms around your stomach making you feel like the happiest person alive.

“Choi Youngjae, you always know what to say and do to make me smile until my cheeks feel like they’re gonna roll off my face” you chuckled, pulling his right hand up to your mouth and pressing your lips to his knuckles. Youngjae returned your chuckling, swimming in a pool of contentment at how everything had turned out well in the end.

“Good~ I’m glad I’m the one that makes you smile” he whispered as he nuzzled his face into your hair – taking in the sweet scent of the coconut shampoo that you had washed it with that morning. You smiled from ear to ear as you felt him move his face from your head to your neck – peppering small kisses along its curve to your shoulder. A sudden rush of shivers pranced across your entire body as his tender kisses to your skin lingered longer. You closed your eyes as you felt Youngjae’s warm breath tickle the small hairs along your skin – before you subconsciously began rolling your hips in needy, backwards motions against his lower body.

“You know that I can’t resist you when you do that...” Youngjae let out a small, defeated moan as he felt himself beginning to stand to attention between his legs. You smirked slightly, knowing that you were teasing him through ten levels of hell.

“Don’t resist then~ Why torture yourself like that?” you purred back at him, turning your head around slightly to try and make out his features in the dim lighting of your room. Youngjae bit his lip a little as your words caused his heart to begin hammering behind his rib-cage, before he slowly dipped his hand under your night-shirt – trailing his fingers up the skin of your stomach. You held your breath, for before you knew it, he was gently caressing your breasts and pressing his fully hardened member against your ass – all while he continued kissing and daintily nibbling at the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Youngjae –“ you breathed his name out loud as he took your pert nipple between his fingers and rolled it teasingly between them. Your body began quivering in his wake as he alternated between both nipples – and you could certainly feel the hot arousal building up below your stomach.

“How is it that you sound both cute and sexy when you make those noises...” he mumbled in your ear as he began trailing his hand back down your body. “Can we take these off baby?” he asked with a longing tone as he fumbled with your pyjama shorts – easily pulling them along with your panties down your thighs. You helped him remove them completely – kicking them off your feet at the bottom of the bed, before Youngjae resumed his position from behind you on his side.

As his hand snaked its way in between your thighs, you let a soft moan out in response to his fingers ghosting towards where you wanted him to be the most. Youngjae’s cheeks became flushed – his breathing filled with desire as he felt you tremble in anticipation of his next move. You parted your legs further, giving him even more access to you – before feeling his fingers slide through your folds, spreading your already present essence between his digits and pressing down hard on your throbbing clit. You gasped at the way he toyed with and massaged your little nub in circular motions as you gripped the side of your pillow. Before long, your body was heaving in rapture as his kisses to your neck only intensified.

“Did you take your pill today?” Youngjae murmured as he teasingly dipped his middle finger inside you – eliciting what he considered to be the sound of music coming from your throat.

“Yeah~ I took it” you barely spoke – knowing that you always took your contraceptive pill at the same time every day. All you wanted in that moment was for him to be inside you – and you felt like if you had to wait another moment; it would be a moment too long before you combust with frustration. Knowing that he wouldn’t have to fumble around your room for a condom, Youngjae felt hedonism like no other coursing through his veins as he removed his fingers from you and pulled down his boxers; just enough to allow his erection to spring free. After giving himself a few long, slow pumps, he threw the covers off both your bodies – exposing your skin to the air.

“Lift your leg higher (Y/N)...just like that” his voice seemed to drop several tones below its usual octave as you raised your right leg in the air to allow him to position himself at your entrance. You held your breath at the feeling of the top of his cock pressing against your opening – noticing how he supported the weight of your leg that was still suspended in the air with his right hand beneath the back of your knee, before slowly pushing himself all the way inside you.

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a long, drawn out mewl at the feeling of his thickness being taken in by your walls – how perfectly he fitted you in every way imaginable as he began thrusting into you from behind. Youngjae mumbled something about how amazing you felt around him as he wrapped his arm around your leg for leverage – angling himself to fuck you deeper with each time he pushed himself back inside you. You and Youngjae had never done this position before, but you were both glad that you had accidentally tried it as the two of you began panting and moaning in unison with each other – making it all the more intimate and passionate despite not gazing into each other’s eyes.

The next thing you knew, Youngjae began bending your knee in to push your leg up towards your breasts, with him being more on top of you now than behind you. You bit your lip shyly at the feeling of being completely spread open in front of him. And upon looking down at your completely naked bottom half, Youngjae couldn’t stop himself from blushing at just how beautiful and erotic you looked in that moment. As he pressed his weight down on you further, you moaned his name like a mantra while listening to him groan and pant as he hit your precious bundle of nerves at just the right angle.

“I’m – I’m gonna –“ you shut your eyes tight, relishing in the feeling of the way his hands gripped your body and the way his cock curved inside you over and over that ultimately sent you over the tipping point as you let your orgasm possess you entirely.

“Fuck – (Y/N)!” Youngjae moaned rather loudly, feeling your walls quickly pulsate around his shaft and watching how your body quivered and writhed beneath him in pure splendour.

Satisfied that you had reached your high before him, Youngjae set a pace of rapid strokes into you to chase his own. You turned your head into the pillow to muffle your voice as you listened to the way his skin smacked mercilessly against yours.

“You feel so good baby – you’re so amazing” he shamelessly praised you over and over as he felt himself let go inside of you – shooting his seed as far back as it would go. You felt the aftermath of his orgasm fill your cavern entirely as he slowed down, dropping himself down on to his elbow behind you once again.

Once he had slipped himself out of you, Youngjae quickly pulled the covers back up over the both of you, before nestling himself in behind you once more – back to his previous spooning position before things had escalated between the two of you. Upon wrapping his arms around your stomach, you cradled on to them like a baby koala – both of you still a little out of breath from the pleasured intimacy you shared mere moments ago.

“Did we just have celebratory ‘GOT7 found out we’re dating’ sex?” you let out a small giggle, hearing Youngjae cackle heartily in turn before he cleared his throat to speak.

“I guess you could call it that. But – it’s more so because I love you? Silly girl~” he whispered to you, making you smile once more again from ear to ear.

“Well isn’t it a good job that I love you too?” you whispered back rather impishly. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling brighter than the sun - the smile that could always make you go weak at the knees, no matter how strong you thought you stood.

“You better get some rest – we have to face the guys tomorrow and we’re probably gonna get teased all day now that they know for sure that we’re a couple” Youngjae chuckled, mid-yawn. For a moment, you almost dreaded the embarrassment that you knew the rest of his group would bestow upon you both tomorrow. But with the way you could hear the beginnings of soft, sleepy breaths coming from Youngjae – and the way his warm hold on you made you feel like the most important, beloved person on planet earth, you concluded that the embarrassment didn’t seem all that bad; as long as you were both experiencing it together. You, as Youngjae’s – and Youngjae, as yours.

596 notes · View notes

an-ambivalent · 7 years

Note

omg your haunting yandere jumin was so good, you don't have to but could you do maybe a backstory as to why she ran away or what happens after (doesn't have to be smut tho but thatd be cool) idk the plot sounds really good haha :)

Hello Anon! Thank you, I’m glad you liked it! :) You are the first person to request here on Tumblr, so I highly appreciate it! You ask, and I deliver :DD I hope this meets your standards. My writing is rusty so I apologize if its bad ^^

For any others who are interested: Here’s Part One: Haunting [Yandere! Jumin Han] [Reader-Insert]

WARNING: Hints of violence & other sensitive topics. Read at your own risk.

Part Two: The Life Of The Rich

A few weeks had passed since [Name] had joined the RFA. After her arrival within the organization, many events had occurred which were a turning point of not only her own life, but also for the old members of the RFA. Evidently, one of the main events which had occurred was the extravagant party that they were able to hold successfully. There were many guests, a lot of people from within the organization and out that [Name] had befriended, and many meaningful memories that she had made. Life felt as if it was a bliss. For someone who once struggled to even afford three proper meals in a day, it was an unimaginable luxury for [Name] who received healthy and nutrition food, much more so, when she had someone to cook for her.

There were so many changes and they were happening too fast. Alas, that is to be expected when one who entertained customers for a living suddenly climbed the stairs of statuses within society, and lived a luxury which was only seen in films.

A few days prior to the party, [Name]’s life was chaotic and hectic with all the planning, moving, and dealing with certain issues Sarah. These days were also filled with a new blossoming love which was mutual between [Name] and Jumin.

With so much happening, [Name]’s life was as busy as ever. The time she shared with Jumin was filled with meaningful and intellectual conversations. Both of them conveyed understanding, and equivalent sympathy towards one another. There was not much time spared to completely know one another; their personality, their likes, or little trivias from the past. You know, the basics. Instead, both of them believed they had formed an emotional connection on similarities, and had pursued their relationship on such a whim.

Jumin was a person who dedicated his entire being to whatever he pursued. It was only natural he went all in when it came to love.

He had proposed, and she had accepted.

They both failed to realize that relationships went deeper than just emotions especially when the relationship had the label of romance attached to it. While many preached personality over appearance, physical attraction contributed just as much as personality if not more, especially in a sexual relationship. One’s background, beliefs, morals, future ambitions were all factors which heavily influenced a relationship. The attraction was not the issue. However, the lack of knowledge of each other did become one.

The reality of a relationship should never initiate after marriage.

After all, detrimental secrets only lead to chaos.

A few weeks had passed since [Name] had joined the RFA, and with the party already held, the date for the next one was not even close to being set.

The hectic life turned into an one of a freelancer. With her old life abandoned, and nothing to do but wait for her spouse to return, [Name] felt herself become agitated due to boredom. She glanced around the living room she sat in, her eyes scanning over every single object and its detail as they searched, searching for anything to pass the time with. Then, her eyes shifted towards the kitchen where she saw a pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

Her eyes widened and she remembered.

Hadn’t the maid called in sick today? And she had forgotten to call in a substitute.

Shrugging, [Name] stood up and walked towards the sink. As she made her way towards it, her eyes flickered towards glass cabinets which showed her reflection. For a moment, she came to an abrupt halt, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise at her own reflection. It was as if she had never seen herself before.

She looked tidy. Her hair was brushed nicely and appeared to be soft as silk, instead of messy. Her clothes represented someone of class, who’s sense of style would be featured in magazines for others to follow. She wore light jewelry that seemed as if it was worth of millions. She looked polished, taught, and respectful.

It was someone she did not know, it was someone that was not her.

She felt something nag at the back of her mind, and her heart beat pounded faster momentarily than its’ normal pace.

However, she quickly shook her head and resumed her walk towards the sink.

***

Presently, Jumin was in a business meeting with a client who desired sponsorship for his business. After what seemed to be hours of endless discussion, much to his relief, the meeting was nearing the end.

He tapped his index finger against the surface of the table in annoyance, his eyes flickering towards the clock which hung in his office wall.

The meeting was meant to be for half an hour, and it was fifteen minutes past the time. By now, he was meant to be more than half way home, ready to greet his cat and his love. The client who obviously lacked time management skills did not seem to understand the basic concept that Jumin had a life outside his business.

And so he decided, why should he initiate business with someone who obviously lacks the basics such as time management in work practice?

He shouldn’t and that was it.

“Thank you for your time,” Jumin began, flickering his eyes towards the customer in a steel-like gaze. “That will be all. I will let Assistant Kang show you out,” He said, standing up.

The client, a 24 four-year-old male with messy brown hair, gasped in surprise when he was interrupted mid-sentence.

Desperation and plea was written all over his face.

“B-But I haven’t expl-” He said, but he was cut off by Jumin who sighed.

Irritation specked his eyes, and he glanced down at the client with a look which almost screamed murder.

“You had half an hour to go over everything but instead you were discussing irrelevant matters. For a potential customer, the least you can do is learn how to get straight to the point, not consume more of my time than what I offered, and actually have a good proposal for an investment. Your lack of sound business skills is enough to know that this will not work. Now, if you will excuse me from being bored to death, I have a wife to return to,” Jumin stated coldly, as he grabbed his coat.

The client sat there baffled at his response, his mouth hung open in shock at the harshness he had just been a witness to.

However, one word remained in his mind: wife. Oddly, this rang a bell of nostalgia. It made him recall something, or rather, someone.

The client recalled seeing the following headlines in the news: The Hottest Bachelor No Longer The Hottest Bachelor And It’ll SHOCK You!! So, Does Jumin Han NOT #GAY?!? #Number Four Will Change The Life You Didn’t Know You Had!

He recalled seeing a person next to Jumin, his wife, and she seemed strangely familiar. It was as if he knew her. Dare he say, he knew a ‘wilder’ version of her, but he could not recall where.

Jumin, who was making his way out of his office, froze when he heard the name of his wife slip the client’s lips.

“I’m sorry?” Jumin said, turning towards client, a threatening aura beginning to raid off him.

The client turned his head towards Jumin and had a wicked grin which promised disaster plastered upon his face. Such expression caused Jumin’s fingers to twitch in disgust, an urge to punch it off his face rushing strongly through his blood.

“It’s [Name], right? Your wife? No wonder I knew I had seen her before,” The Client said, tilting his head. “Although, the last time I saw her, the sight was… Dare I say, much more exhilarating than what I saw on the magazine,” He finished, his grin widening.

Jumin clenched his fist, his eyes narrowing into a threatening glare which promised hell. Anger was seeping into his face. However, when he spoke his voice was calm and composed.

“And where did you see her?” Jumin asked.

The Client’s grin spread further across his lips so the wickedness of it morphed into a plain sadistic sight.

“[Name]… Ah, she looks so polished next to you. When I saw- sorry, let me ‘rephrase’ that. When I had her, she was much more wild like an untameable beast. I still remember it clearly: the sight of her beneath me, my hard earned money splashed around her. If nothing useful, she did me a decent service at least. And now she’s with you? No wonder she looks so sold out and polished with money. I’m surprised a useless stripper like-” The Client continued, however, he was interrupted with a fist harshly hitting his face.

He screamed as he felt the harsh impact of the punch on his nose and teeth. His scream was loud enough to attract the attention of other workers.

Jaehee, who stood outside Jumin’s office and was waiting for him, rushed in the room with concern written all over her face.

She entered without knocking, and the sight of blood dripping from Jumin’s hand caused her eyes to widen impossibly huge. Then, her eyes flickered towards the Client who was bent in pain, holding his nose, and groaning in pain.

One or two splatter of blood dripped heavily from his nose and onto the floor.

Jumin, who was towering above him like a tyrant, glared harshly and clicked his tongue in agitation.

“Look at what you have made me done,” He began, his voice etched with anger and danger. “My skin is coated with your filthy blood. Maybe I shou-”

“Mr. Han!” Jaehee snapped, interrupting him. Her voice caused him to freeze, before Jumin turned his head towards her.

“Assistant Kang,” He greeted, as if everything was normal. Anger vanished from his face, and was replaced with his normal stoic expression.

His eyes flickered to the groaning Client and then towards Jaehee.

He sighed. “Looks like I got a bit carried away,” Jumin murmured to himself.

“A bit?!” Jaehee shrieked in surprise.

Jumin ignored her outburst before he flicked his hand, causing a few blood drops to fall on the floor.

He looked at Jaehee with a gaze that ordered absolute obligation.

It was a look often worn by dictators and it was look which sparked fear within her and she did not like it.

“Take care of this mess. Call my lawyer, and find a way out of this,” He commanded with certainty.

Jaehee opened her mouth to reply. However, by this time, Jumin had already walked past her.

His expression was dark and only one thought occured in his mind.

I need to set things straight with [Name].

Masterpost

#mystic messenger #mm #mysme #jumin han #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #yandere jumin #yandere x reader #jaehee kang #fanfiction #mystic messenger fanfiction #part 2 #ambivalent writes #rfa #the life of the rich #haunting #anonymous #request

455 notes · View notes

irkimatsu · 7 years

Text

Talking about OCs makes me miss my old crew... would anyone want to read little profiles on them? It's been a long time, so this is just little things I remember about them as I try to regain contact with them... this post has a main plot summary and profiles for one of the teams, the main team the story focused on. I think it'd take two more posts to cover my entire cast; one for the other plot relevant team, and one for a bunch of side characters that weren't as fleshed out, but that I still had fun with.

One issue with this is that a lot of plot and character details did come from two other people I used to roleplay with... I’m still in contact with both, but we stopped roleplaying years ago. I sometimes struggle to remember what was my idea and what was theirs...

LONG POST ALERT

The main setup of the story was, there's an alternate dimension that's a lot like ours. Everyone looks human, and they developed pretty much the same way we did, with a similar technological level. (For better, and for worse. People are assholes no matter what dimension they're in, sadly.) The main difference, however, is that the people here have the power to manipulate things around them. The elements, objects around them, human bodies... (I had a lot about how this influenced certain major events, including their technology, but alas, those notes are lost to time.) I called these people "Mages", but was always trying to come up with something better. A high-level Mage called Sura discovers the secret to inter-dimensional travel, and gets the idea to travel to other dimensions and see what she can find out there - valuable treasures, powerful secrets, just raid these places with no regard for the people living there. And... the rest of the Mages didn't really have much regard for other people from other dimensions, either. They were generally a very snobbish sort, regarding their magic and way of life as better than any other dimension could possibly have. But they knew on an intellectual level that this was probably bad, so a large number of adult Mages regardless of skill level ended up drafted by the government, known as the Council, and sent to these other worlds to recruit armies and stop Sura. These armies weren't treated very well, more like pawns than anything, but they must listen, it's for their own good, don't they understand? There was very much a "no side of this is innocent" element to the whole thing.

One particular dimension involved in this was Earth. Earth was a curious case; unlike most other peoples, the population here doesn't seem to have any inherent magic at all. Oh, those poor things, how do they survive? But they have one unique trait; they may not have any inner magic of their own, but if they can ally themselves with a magic user - the exact details of this allegiance varies depending on where the magic user came from - they can wield any sort of magic imaginable. They may not be much innately, but when it comes to magical potential, they're the most diverse population anyone has ever seen.

No wonder Sura's interested in studying these people, even if that means tearing their auras apart in the name of science...

Ven:

-A Mage who was drafted to be sent to Earth to train an army. He wants nothing to do with this, but his hands are tied. Responsibility is not his favorite thing in the world.

-Back in his dimension, he worked as a bar host. A total social butterfly; loves talking to and meeting new people, and is very good at modifying his behavior to blend in with groups. ...for the most part. He's also a hopeless flirt, and his social skills drop the more attracted to someone he is. He can be incredibly brazen. Some people like his straightforward style. Others smack him. He's never deterred, though. ...well, he'll probably stop flirting with that particular person once he reaches the smack point, but that's fine, he'll happily skip off to the next possible prospect. He doesn't dwell on missed opportunities for long.

-In general, he's a total perv and slob. Having him as a roomate is... exhausting. Prepare to fish his late night guest's underwear out from the couch cushions and to accept regular deliveries from Internet porn shops...

-Skilled at elemental magic, particularly wind, but that's more from innate talent than actual effort. He could have happily grown up in a world where he didn't have magical powers, and barely uses them in his daily life if he doesn't have to. It's more of a chore than anything. Not very good at anything else at the start. He honestly never expected to be drafted in the first place, given his poor skills, but it seems the higher-ups didn't have many qualifications for the people they chose besides "pulse". Ven is of low status, so he's cattle.

-Doesn't generally agree with his society's high-and-mighty act; would actually love to travel to other dimensions and meet the people there. That's the main reason he doesn't fight against his drafting. He doesn't normally pay attention to politics, though, so it's not like he fights against their bigotry, and he tends to be out of the loop when it comes to more complicated political issues. As time goes on and he learns more about the war, though, he becomes more and more frustrated, to the point where he'll denounce his people entirely if it means protecting Earth. He's met people here that are very worth protecting.

-Sexual preference is "Sure, how much?" Will screw anyone who'll let him, gender be damned. He'd never dream of violating consent, but the second you do consent, Ven can't get to the nearest soft, stable surface with you fast enough. He can be wild and pervy, but he's still a respectful partner who wants to make sure you have a good time, too. He does have a flaw here, though - he's aromantic and doesn't form any particular bond with anyone he sleeps with. He's had plenty of partners he'd never seen before or since. This in itself isn't a flaw, but the idea of bonding through sex is such a foreign concept to him that he tends to ignore the possibility that the other person might not feel the same way. He's upfront about his intentions and believes that's enough; if his partner later ends up developing feelings for him, this can lead to awkward situations that Ven takes no responsibility for, because hey, weren't they warned? Will hopefully get better at this through character development. Will always be aromantic, but could stand to learn some sensitivity toward people who aren’t.

-Short blonde hair, white skin, average height. Usually wearing a white suit. Looking proper is a good way of fitting in with social situations and setting people at ease, you know. (Until someone hot walks in and he turns into a drooling idiot, anyway. And when he's not lounging around on the couch in his boxers. His public and private presentations are VERY different.)

-In an alliance with two Earth girls. They’re teenagers at the start, but some adventures progress through their adulthood. He regards these two as his family and can be very protective of them. They are...

Nicole:

-Hyper!!! Loud!!! Stop!!!

-Actually a bit of a jab against "weeaboo" culture - she definitely had some pretty bad traits there. Random Japanese, shipping people who she had no business shipping... she meant well, she could just be... kind of annoying. She grows out of it.

-The second she's offered the opportunity to be a magical girl she's right on that, hell yeah, gonna be an anime hero! Is stunned to realize it actually takes effort. Comes to like that effort as part of her growth, though.

-After she grows up a little, is the nicest friend you could ever meet. Would give you the shirt off her back, unless she already gave it to someone else, in which case she'll go buy you one. Even if you didn't ask her. Even if you'd rather she didn't. She doesn’t expect anything in return, she just likes helping. It’s what magical girls do! Even if sometimes her ideas of helpful are off the mark.

-Tends to jump into things without thinking. Whether this makes her brave or stupid is your call. You know things have gotten bad when even Nicole is showing hesitation and concern.

-Has a bit of a rave girl aesthetic. Isn't involved in drugs or anything, but she likes going to raves and wearing bright colors. (Her friends don't let her go out to party alone, though. Love her dearly, but they don't trust her recklessness. She'd be way too easy to take advantage of...)

-Her main specialty is in elemental magic, particularly water and ice. Kind of okay at defensive/strength enhancing spells. Crap at healing.

-Pan, and poly in a sense. Romantically monogamous, but doesn't mind physical intimacy with friends, including sex. Wouldn't sleep with a stranger, but could end up with some friends with benefits. Wouldn't mind the same from her partner. As long as everyone's clear on the expectations. Intimacy is good! Love is good! She loves her friends! Why not make them feel good?

-Her skin tone was kind of... ambiguously brown? I never fully settled on an ethnicity for her. My initial instinct is Latina, but given how loud and obnoxious she can be... don't want to fall into stereotypes. Need to think about this one.

-Short little chubber. I used to have an idea where she'd lose weight from her strenuous magical training... but, you know what, fuck that, actually, Nicole's a chubber and always will be

Alice:

-Very different from Nicole. Quiet, hesitant, wants to fade into the background. This is difficult when you're tall and big-chested.

-I purposely tried to design her as a "conventional beauty" - long legs, large chest, long blonde hair, thin... but frankly, she hates it. Dressed very conservatively. Long skirts or pants; thick, high-cut sweaters in a desperate attempt to hide her chest. No case of "and then one day she learned to embrace how very beautiful she was and everyone loved her". No. She'd rather people notice literally anything else about her besides her chest. She didn't ask for the stupid thing...

-Very kind in her own way; is the sort of person who will talk gently to you and listen if that's what you need. She’s a good person to be around if you need someone who seems safe and not intimidating. But on the other hand, if you're loud and brash like a certain someone, she has very little patience. She's easily overwhelmed around obnoxious people, and can very quickly become sarcastic in that case. She didn't so much befriend Nicole; rather, Nicole latched onto her one day and wouldn't leave, constantly yapping at her during lunch and walks home and such, then they ended up on the same magical team and bonded that way. She eventually reaches a point where she'd do anything for Nicole, but at the start, she's more likely to just want to... not kill her, she's pacifistic. But go far, far away from her.

-So much of a pacifist that there's no capacity for combative magic at all in her aura. She can't control the elements like Nicole can; it's just not possible. She's one hell of a healer, though. This makes training her very frustrating for Ven, since he has no idea how healing works. They may need to ask someone else...

-Vegan. Not high and mighty about it, just doesn't like the taste of meat or dairy, so she doesn't eat it.

-Loves reading, especially mystery novels. (Nicole takes this as her cue to get Alice into mystery anime. It actually works.) Anything that involves logical puzzle solving, Alice is into. She's the planner and thinker while Nicole rushes at things. However, this does mean she's generally hesitant to act - nothing would get done without Nicole as the doer.

-Rejected the call to be a magical girl initially. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with the whole mess. But after her parents were kidnapped and killed for Sura's experiments, she felt she had no choice. Ven uses his natural charm (and probably some magical trickery) to convince people that he's Alice's adult brother who'd been living abroad, but came back upon the death of his parents to pay his final respects and to raise Alice. He's moving back into Alice's childhood home so that Alice doesn't have to move halfway across the planet and disrupt her studies and friendships.

-Being on the same team as Ven and Nicole soon becomes frustrating for her. The two of them have so much in common - similar magical specialties, an affinity for socializing, "doer" type personalities... they don't seem to be taking this seriously at all, and Alice feels left out. Ven doesn't even seem to believe they'll ever have to do anything major; let the Council take care of that stuff, he's just here to mess around and because Nicole seems to enjoy learning. Of course they can afford not to take this seriously, they haven't lost someone... one of Sura's minions manages to use Alice's frustrations to manipulate her and turn her against them for some time. It takes them a while to realize this new dark magical girl is Alice, but once they find out, they do eventually snap her out of it.

-Panromantic in the sense that she'll date someone if she really, really likes them, but not too worried about it and wouldn't mind being single forever. She'd rather be single than date someone who isn't perfect for her. Asexual. Not sex-repulsed, but finds it very boring. Might perform some very vanilla acts if her romantic partner really wanted her to, but honestly, that's just time she could be using to read a book or wash dishes or something. Their happiness during the act is nice, but that's all she can get out of it.

#Irk blubbers about nothing

5 notes · View notes

foodtechhacker-blog · 7 years

Text

Adventures In Nutrition: Intentionally Overdosing Myself on Omega-3s

I have a unique quality of taking things to a whole new level when I’m trying to answer a question or solve a problem, and people seem to always underestimate what I’m willing and able to do. It’s had some pretty fascinating results that I’ll be writing about over the coming months in my Adventures in Nutrition series of blog posts. Today, by popular Twitter request, I’m going to be exploring the experience of overdosing on omega-3s.

Biofeedback Basics

I’ve always had a unique ability to extract patterns from my own personal biological experiences. For example, when I was younger, what got me interested in dietary supplements was when I noticed an interesting effect where my skin quality (particularly pimples) seemed to be improved when I had increased sunlight exposure, particularly in the summer (very pronounced in the Northwestern United States where I grew up) and I noticed that this effect occurred even on parts of my body that were never exposed to the sunlight. I quickly realized this must have been from vitamin D synthesis occurring. I began taking vitamin D3 supplements at a healthy dose and found I got most of the benefit year around without sunlight exposure.

From there, my desire to closely at my own body and its responses to refine my understanding of diet, nutrition and biochemistry has exploded. Over the years, I developed a wide range of different techniques to be able to see ever finer biochemical details. I’m not immune to placebo effect, but I definitely am pretty good at canceling out noise like that over time through a variety of techniques. I’ll be be covering these concepts in more depth soon.

A Deep Curiosity in Omega-3s

I attended The Evergreen State College, an extremely progressive liberal arts school that had a huge focus on interdisciplinary study. The school is architected in such a way that everyone is pretty much forced to take full time programs each quarter - a single interdisciplinary program co-taught by approximately 3 faculty in rather different areas of focus with a single theme. Students are then encouraged to take a deep dive into a subset of the larger program theme, culminating in an end-of-quarter project or paper much like a mini-thesis. When I was in the program “The Science of Fat” my focus was omega-3s.

My work familiarized me with some pretty shocking realities - how our omega-3/6 ratios have radically skewed over the past few hundred years, primarily due to the wide scale cultivation of “vegetable” oils in northern climates. I quickly began to think about the n-3/n-6 ratio as being far more important than the exact amount of n-3 in the diet. I learned about the hugely therapeutic potential of omega-3s, especially for autoimmune and inflammatory issues, such as rheumatoid arthritis. I learned about the difficulties mammals have in synthesizing long chain n-3s from short chain ALA, and the issues in getting plants to synthesize long chain n-3s.

Since then, I’ve applied this learning extensively and seen remarkable benefits to human health by deploying high doses of omega-3s in people’s diets. One of the most remarkable examples was the complete reversal of rheumatoid arthritis in my mom, when she began consuming hot flax meal for 2 of her 3 meals per day. Her experienced chiropractor had never seen anything like this in over 20 years of practice. I also tested high doses of chia and flax oils* in myself and found there wasn’t really any discernable way to significantly overdose on omega-3s simply because they have a top ratio around 4:1 n-3/n-6. (I would say there are slight negative effects after a while from that, but they aren’t significant.)

*At the time I had access to drums of flavorless, odorless flax and chia oils, making it relatively easy to replace virtually all the fat in my diet with those oils.

Overdosing on Long Chain Omega-3s

Naturally, being hypercurious, I decided that I needed to embark on a new test to explore the limits of omega-3. I decided to use fish-based oils this time, as it provides exclusively long chain omega-3s, and has almost incredibly low levels of n-6. (I hesitate to state the ratios because variance in methods and source seafood, but they are something in the range of 10:1 to 20:1 n-3/n-6 - roughly a complete inversion of the typical American diet.)

Because I absolutely love seafood*, I decided I would simply eat as much low-mercury, high-fat** seafood as possible until I achieved an overdose. This took roughly a month of eating mostly the highest fat canned fish as my primary caloric source, red salmon (49 g fish oil per ~15 oz can) and chub mackerel, including drinking all the fish oil in the water broth in the can. (I did eat a variety of other seafood, especially shrimp, for variety. The key was all wild whole seafood.) Canned seafood includes the skin and does not lose any of the oil during processing, making canned red salmon significantly higher in omega-3s than skinned fillets. (It also retains the bones, providing other valuable minerals in much higher quantities.)

* If you would like to kill me, just give me an endless supply of highly marbled swordfish steaks. I would probably eat that for every single meal until I died of mercury poisoning or went completely insane. (This assumes I’m not already completely insane!)

** When it comes to seafood, except for marine mammals, it is very hard to find anything with the majority of calories from fat. If anybody could provide me with a safe source of high-fat marine mammal meat, I would gladly repeat this experiment. Unfortunately, I am not a Native American and thus the US Marine Mammal Protection act largely makes this impossible.

It took roughly a month to achieve a clear overdose. I generally felt very good, improving health overall, for the first two weeks. It leveled off after that. Around 3 weeks, I noticed that foods seemed to taste more bitter, especially potassium rich foods and I felt a little bit off from my peak, but not too much. In some ways, it felt a little like when you take a high dose NSAID for a long time, you don’t feel bad necessarily, but you can kind of feel that your body is just a little bit off from its normal homeostasis with maybe a touch of dysphoria. I also began to have this bizarre intense craving for foods rich in oleic acid, which is something I’ve had never experienced prior or since.

Around the 1 month mark, I was out for an extended mountain bike ride and had a big fish lunch packed. I stopped to eat it, and kept riding for another hour or two, then stopped and had a drink of a beverage sweetened using high intensity sweeteners including acesulfame potassium. It was so potently bitter. Given that I’ve filed a patent in the arena of sugar replacement, I’ve tasted this ingredient and blend a hell of a lot of different times and it never tasted like this to me. It was like a light began flashing in my head - what in the world caused this? The effect was so pronounced, even years later, I can see the exact spot deep in the hills of southwest Washington where I was when I had this experience.

I went home and decided to experiment around. I tried different beverages and foods and it was clear that somehow I had massively amplified my sensitivity to potassium bitterness. I surmised it was the first clear and overt sign of serious omega-3 overdose. Over the next week I experimented around, and I found I was on some sort of nonlinear biological line, and I could inch myself one way or the other with a relatively small dose of omega-3 or omega-6. I consumed soybean oil rich mayonnaise to back off my ratios, and used molecularly distilled fish oil to push myself back across the line. (Using molecularly distilled fish oil allowed me to be sure it wasn’t some other nutrient or impurity in the fish oil responsible for the effect.) It took maybe 10-15 g of either and 12-24 hours to go back and forth across this discrete nonlinear line to potassium sensitivity.

I later conducted a fair amount of research into this subject and found a lot of studies that linked omega-3 long chain fatty acids to various potassium ion channel systems in the body and it makes a good amount of sense what I experienced. I really would need to invest some serious time to fully understand all the mechanisms inside the body here and am hesitant to cite research that I really do not fully understand. However, for the curious, searching on Google Scholar and using Sci-Hub to get any papers not readily available as free fulltext will yield a lot of interesting and very dense reading. If anybody wants to provide further understanding on this front, I will gladly update this post.

Conclusions

It is exceptionally hard to overdose on omega-3 fatty acids and basically saying “as much as possible” is probably not an unreasonable suggestion for most people in the real world, especially given the huge bodies of research showing benefits for heart, brain, autoimmune, triglycerides, some forms of cancer and much more.

The narrower range of biological effects of ALA and lack of sources extremely high in ALA but with negligible n-6 makes it largely impossible for most people to overdose on plant source omega-3s, even on extreme diets as followed by my mom to reverse RA. Interestingly, because of the slightly lower molecular weight of ALA compared to long chain forms, the lower cost of plant based sources, and the ability to produce completely odorless, flavorless forms of flax and chia oils at affordable prices makes it an interesting therapeutic target for autoimmune and inflammatory issues, but it largely lacks the heart and brain health benefits as these organs appear to use long chain n-3s functionally and structurally.

The ability to overdose on long chain n-3s from whole seafood sources is interesting and actually surprised me. I did not expect dramatic effects like the altered taste. I was mostly expecting something like an upset stomach or overall feeling of being unwell, but any dysphoric sensation was incredibly limited. I would like to study this further in the context of native Alaskan/Inuit diets. It seems that some of their diets might sometimes get enough long chain n-3s to induce the potassium ion issue I experienced, but my best guess is that their marine mammal fat sources may have saved them.

That said, it is exceptionally hard to imagine one overdosing on fish oil from supplements - I consumed around 100 g a day of fish oil on this regimen, and even if we distilled pure n-3 and gave people 1000 mg per softgel, that would be around 30 soft gels per day, which is pretty hard to imagine. Additionally, that would be additive to a normal diet, whereas I replaced virtually all oils with fish oil, so it would take even more soft gels to overdose on fish oil. I strongly feel that a whole diet approach needs to be taken to get enough n-3.

Further Discussion

I was surprised when a number of people expressed interest in reading about my experiences with omega-3 overdosing, so I’m not really sure how much depth is of interest here. I can sketch approximated curves of experiences, do more calculations of my intake, and provide more detailed accounts of the experiential component if people are interested. Reach out to me on Twitter with questions or further discussion of this subject!

#omega3 #salmon #sockeye salmon #fishoil #omega3s #AdventuresInNutrition

1 note · View note