#good night now i need to chill this is completely ridiculous | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rae-writes · 2 years

Text

punishment

om brothers x poly!reader (+ solomon)

wc : 1.k

warnings : nsfw

synopsis : you finally lose your patience with the brothers and decide a nice punishment is in order

a/n : no one talk to me about how ridiculously long this took to finish

Part 2

You stared down at your soggy homework with a blank face. Every single page, pages you spent countless sleepless nights completing, were now ruined; sopping wet, illegible, and falling apart. Your eyes slowly peered up at the seven demons responsible.

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. Mammon’s face went pale. Levi seemed like he was about to cry. Satan gulped loudly, feeling your silent rage rising. Asmo was sweating bullets. Beel looked like a kicked puppy. Belphie appeared disinterested but his hands were visibly trembling.

“W-we’ll r-redo it for ya, Mc! P-promise! Right guys?!” Mammon gave a wobbly smile when the rest of his brothers agreed.

Giving a wry smile back, you stood from your crouched position. “Yes. You will. But I don’t think that’s enough for me.” Your head tilted in mock thought, “You’ve all been ridiculously rowdy as of late, and this was my last straw. The seven of you need to be punished and I-”

Chills ran down their spines; they didn’t like your excited tone.

“-have the perfect idea.” You smiled cheerfully, taking out your D.D.D. “Lucifer, make sure they all stay put, I need to make a quick call.”

“Me?”

“Of course. I can trust in you not to disobey me, yes?”

Lucifer stiffened, “We will all be here when you get back.”

“Good.” Spinning around, you skipped to the entrance hall, far enough so the brothers couldn’t listen in. You tapped on your phone, clicking the call button.

“Hello?”

“Hi Solomon! I have a bit of a…crude favor to ask. Are you free right now?”

As Lucifer said, they were all right where you left them. They looked up, ready to start begging for forgiveness, when their mouths dropped. “SOLOMON?!”

The sorcerer smiled, “Hello. I hear you’ve made Mc very upset.” His eyes gleamed when your arms wrapped around his waist. “I’m here to help with their delightfully thought out punishment.”

“Go sit over there, boys. Beel, Lucifer, and Satan on the couch. Mammon, Levi, Belphie, and Asmo on the floor in front.” Your eyes followed them like a predator as they did what you said, even without the pacts. “Thank you. Now…stay there.”

They gasped, feeling their bodies obey. All of them were practically glued to where they sat- they couldn't get up if they tried. Most of them were actually curious and excited as to where this was going. Not that they’d admit it, of course.

Though the hint of excitement dulled as they watched you settle yourself on Solomon’s lap, eyeing the way your hands trailed over the sorcerer’s chest and shoulders. This was fine. This was totally fine- they could handle this, right?

Almost like you could hear their thoughts, your hips began to rock back and forth, lips parting in moans and whimpers that made the brothers struggle against their pacts. They spat out quiet curses while you continued to ride Solomon’s thigh, uncaring of the 7 demons in the room.

“Don’t avert your eyes. Mc would be offended if you didn’t watch our show.”

Lucifer is fucking livid, but he’s silent about it. No one hears a peep out of him the entire time. His red hues are trained on the way your back arches, lips pulling into a snarl because your face is hidden in Solomon’s neck. So help him, when he gets released from your order, Lucifer is going to destroy you in a way you won’t even remember any name but his. His temper rises every second- he’s mad about what’s happening in front of him just out of reach and he’s mad about getting mad because he should have more composure than this, goddamnit! But he throws all those thoughts out of the window when you tilt your head to the side and stare him directly in the eyes because fuck you’re cumming but you’re cumming on someone who isn’t fucking him and fuck he’s releasing the most primal growl he’s ever made when you have the audacity to grin at him afterwards

Mammon is having a fucking conniption and an aneurysm at the same time; he’s yellin and screamin and cursin, but if you listen close enough, you can hear him whinin. This is so unfair! He’s your first man! What the fuck are you doing on Solomon’s lap?! He said he was sorry! Isn’t he your favorite? Wouldn’t ya rather be on his lap? He swears he can make you feel so fucking good- please? Mammon quiets down when you scold him, blue eyes shinin because your attention is finally on him. He’s a noddin and agreein to everything you say happily, almost like a dog, but when you cum, he watches your eyes flit over to Lucifer- away from him- and now he’s cryin out, babbling angrily while he thrashes in his seat, eager to be released so he can get a hold of you and mark ya as his again

Levi is sobbing— short breathed cries and stuttered words slurring together as he pleads. He swears he had nothing to do with your ruined homework, it was all Mammon’s fault! His tail is thumping on the floor urgently, begging for your attention, and he nearly combusts when you finally focus your lidded eyes on him. Levi fucking keens at your soft words as you begin reassuring him that he’s a good boy and he’ll be rewarded if he just waits out the punishments patiently. Now he’s just writhing around, trying his best to keep the envy laced complaints to himself because he’s your good boy- he is!- but fuck he can’t help but whine when you cum without a single ounce of attention on him

Satan is rather composed; straight faced with an unwavering tone. His sharp gaze scanned over every inch of your body meticulously— for a second it seemed like he’d be- ironically- the only calm one of the seven. That is, until you fleetingly mentioned him behaving like a certain someone. Then he was snarling and growling and spitting out empty threats. So help him when he gets out of this fucking pact- Satan’s mouth snaps shut when you let out a teasing mewl, cheeks blistering red as his rage boils down to a simmer. It only lasted for a moment, though, before he was lashing out with his tail when you flitted your eyes over to Lucifer as you came

Asmo is torn between wanting to moan alongside you at seeing one of his fantasies coming to life or to cry at being left out on something he’d suggested. The fifth born is so conflicted it hurts! His hips are bucking up into nothing and his eyes are lidded- Asmo won’t close them, though, especially not when Solomon starts to moan too. He can feel the mascara dripping down his cheeks that flush red when you coo at him. It feels like his body is on fire when you start to sweetly degrade him, eyes rolling white when you suggest he joins the two of you; your pact hasn’t been released, so when he stupidly tries to crawl towards you, he sobs prettily at the restraint and misses out on watching you cum

Beel is quiet, like usual. It’s not like Lucifer or Satan’s angry kind of quiet; the sixth born is just observing. Darkened purple eyes trailing from place to place— eyeing the way your mouth parts, the way your hips start to stutter, the way your hands shake ever so slightly. Beel’s voice comes out as a deep rumble; soft, rich, and inquisitive. He’ll ask if it feels good, if you like riding your friend’s thigh, if you get off on making them suffer and watch. His eyes will flash when you send him a smirk and his stomach will rumble when you loll your tongue out just for him; he’s not hungry for food, though. He’s hungry to taste the orgasm that rips through you, so hungry in fact, he’s letting out a growl in displeasure when Solomon gets to feel your legs tremble instead

Belphie is throwing a temper tantrum the second your hips start moving over Solomon’s thigh. He’s snarling and growling and cursing louder than even Mammon. You are fucking his and you should be on his fucking lap- not that stupid sorcerer’s! He already has to share with his brothers, he is not about to share with Solomon. Belphie’s eyes nearly narrowed into slits when you moan out his name teasingly, body thrashing against the invisible restraints keeping him on the floor. Unlike Lucifer, he’s audibly warning you that if you don’t get the fuck off of Solomon’s lap right now, you better hope that you can run fast because as soon as he’s released from this fucking bind, he’ll make sure you can’t walk after he’s done with you. Right before you cum, Belphie lets out a menacing ‘don’t you fucking dare’ but ends up whining because you looked at Lucifer when you came and not him

A trail of kisses are placed down the expanse of your neck, hands moving from your hips to your waist, “So pretty, Mc. You look like an angel when you cum~” Solomon’s grin is nothing short of wicked as his eyes bore into the brothers’ from over your shoulder.

It makes you giggle and turn your head so you can glance over each demon. Humming, you make a show of pretending to think, before you shakily get up from Sol’s thigh and face them, “Have you learnt your lesson? The looks on your faces tell me you did.”

Lucifer is glowering in a way that if looks could kill, you’d be six feet under. Mammon is still straining against the pact but his eyes are wild as they scan over you. Levi is whimpering and nodding, begging for you to release his binds, and keening when you coo at him. Satan appears calm but you can see the raging fire in his eyes as he bares his teeth. Asmo is a hot mess with his mascara running down his face, pleading to be released. Beel looks indifferent as he whines for food, but you know he’s actually whining for you. Belphie is also thrashing against his pact as he whines and cries, trying to play the ‘youngest’ card to get released first.

You mirror Solomon’s sly smile, “Don’t do it again.”

The brothers feel the pact command release, sending a few of them tumbling forward. All seven of them are rushing to their feet, but when they look up, both you and the sorcerer are gone and the only thing they can do is follow your laughter throughout the house until they finally catch you.

#obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me imagine #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader #belphegor x reader #belphie x reader #solomon x reader

4K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

No Nut November I Top Gun Dagger Squad edition

Summary: When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good.

Warnings: Humor, adult banter, smut, ridiculousness

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: a mention of Rooster x girlfriend and Payback x hookup

Check my masterlist for more!

When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good. As they finished a group run and headed into the gym for some weight training, one such conversation began to take form.

"Halloween was fun last night," Phoenix said with a yawn. "The Hard Deck was wild though."

"Yeah," Fanboy agreed, shaking his head as he got a bench press set up. "Crazy! But November is a way more chill month."

Hangman snickered. "Chill? You think No Nut November is chill?"

Coyote shook his head as he did some squats. "It's the roughest month of the year!"

A bubble of laughter escaped Bob. "What's No Nut November? Like no peanuts?

"More like no penis," drawled Hangman. "Or vagina," he added when he saw the look Phoenix was giving him. "It's a competition. You try to stay ejaculation free for the entire month. Who's game?"

"Count me out," Rooster promptly said. "My girlfriend will absolutely not go for this."

"Come on, Rooster," Payback said. "You don't even have to tell her you're participating."

Rooster stared at him in confusion. "I think she might notice something's up if I go from being balls deep inside her at least once a day to giving her nothing!"

"There are workarounds, Rooster. Don't you ever use your mouth for anything other than whining?" Phoenix asked, earning laughs from the others.

"Hmmm," Rooster rolled his eyes at her and contemplated how he could get away with participating.

"Well, if it's a competition, what does the winner get?" Bob asked.

"The satisfaction of knowing they aren't weak minded," Hangman informed him. "And I'll hang up a gold star outside the locker rooms that says 'Ejaculation Champ' with their name on it. Now, who's in?"

"Yeah," Payback said with a nod as he picked up a barbell.

"I'll do it," Fanboy added.

"Me too," agreed Coyote.

"Sure, sounds intriguing," Bob said with a nod.

"I...will hesitantly say yes. I will probably regret this," Rooster said with a sigh.

The guys all turned and looked at Phoenix who was stretching before she started weight training. "Oh, I'm already out. I lost."

Rooster's brow scrunched up. "What do you mean you're already out? It's November 1st at 9:30 in the morning."

Phoenix just smirked at the boys. "I had a guest over last night," she said coyly.

"Legendary," Fanboy muttered. "You've got more game than all of the rest of us combined."

"Are you kidding me?" asked Hangman. "Less than ten hours into the month and you're already out? I'm actually kind of impressed."

Phoenix just shrugged. "The gold star would have been nice, but it was worth it."

Hangman sighed and turned back to the guys. "We've all got to be one hundred percent truthful. If you nut, you're out. And you need to admit to it."

The guys all agreed. And thus the month of November became a thing of legend.

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

On November 6th, Coyote woke up with morning wood. He got all comfy in bed and took care of himself. "No better way to start your day," he muttered as he cleaned himself up. "Oh, shit!"

He had fucking forgotten about the bet!

When he got to base and saw the guys, he just shook his head.

"You nutted!" accused Fanboy immediately.

"Yeah," Coyote admitted. "I just completely forgot about the bet, and I....jerked off this morning." He winced, and the guys looked at him with disdain.

"Well you can kiss that gold star goodbye," Hangman told him. "Everyone else hanging in there?"

"Yeah," they all said in unison.

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

On November 10th, Fanboy hit up his favorite movie theater for throwback night. They were showing Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, one of his all-time favorites.

He settled in with his bucket of popcorn, ready to enjoy the film. But then disaster struck. Maybe it was because he'd already gone too long without masturbating, or maybe it was because she was just so hot, but as soon as he saw Princess Leia in her golden, slave bikini, he was rock hard.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, still hard by the time the movie ended. He had to hold the popcorn bucket in front of his shorts on the way to his car. "Okay, pull it together, man." But by the time he got back to his apartment, he was panting and in pain.

"I can't make it!" he said, carefully taking his shorts off and touching himself. The relief was immediate, but the disappointment he felt would surely linger.

The next day on the tarmac, he told the others, "It was the damn bikini! It had me in its sights, and I didn't stand a chance! I could have made it through The Empire Strikes Back, no problem! I should have known better!"

Hangman, Rooster, Bob and Payback all sized each other up. Shit was getting real.

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

By November 15th, Rooster estimated he'd gone down on his girlfriend about a hundred times so far this month. This wouldn't have been a problem for him at all, except now his jaw was starting to ache, and she was desperately trying to reciprocate.

"You're so good, baby," she moaned as she came on his face.

Rooster gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palms. "Anything for you, honey," he grunted. God, he was painfully hard, and now she was crawling across the bed toward him.

"You want me to go down on you now?" she asked, reaching for his shorts.

"No! Tonight is all about you!" he practically yelled at her.

She pouted a bit. "You've been saying that for weeks, Rooster. And now you're acting really weird. I want to make you feel good too."

"No! Ummm, let me finger you instead!" he shouted. "Lay down, honey. I got you."

But two nights later, he was outmaneuvered by her. As soon as she came from the pleasure his fingers and mouth provided, Rooster was rubbing his throbbing jaw and trying to think about something un-sexy. But she lunged for his boxers, pulled them down and ran her tongue along his dick.

"Honey, no!" he groaned, but it felt too good. Two more strokes of her tongue, and Rooster was panting and spurting his cum all over her face.

She looked up at him in shock. "That was fast."

Rooster paced around the gym on base the next day. "I'm out, okay? I'm out." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "I swear I tried my best! Plus I think I have permanent damage to my jaw! It's aching from how many times I went down on her!"

Payback cocked his head. "But if you were avoiding intercourse, how are you out?"

Rooster looked slightly crazed now. "She licked me! She licked me three times and I came all over the fucking place! And now she's concerned that I should talk to my doctor about premature ejaculation! I was out there in the trenches, fighting for my life, and now she thinks I have a disorder!"

The guys all nodded in solemn understanding.

Phoenix cracked up. "You're all idiots, I swear."

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

Payback had been so careful. He really wanted that gold star. It was November 28th, and he was feeling optimistic about his chances of winning.

"I've got this," he announced, bragging while playing pool at the Hard Deck. "The gold star is mine, dickheads."

Bob and Hangman would cave. He just knew it.

Then the cutest girl he'd ever seen started hitting on him. "Can I buy you a drink?" she asked shyly, and he was putty in her hands.

An hour later they were kissing next to the jukebox. An hour after that, she was touching him under his shirt.

"Okay, I'm out guys! I had a good run! See you tomorrow!" he announced merrily as he left the bar with her.

"Saw that coming from a mile away," Hangman drawled, sinking the eight ball. He knew he would make it to December 1st, because he knew he was mentally stronger than the rest of them. He prided himself on it.

So Hangman went to bed that night with a satisfied smile on his face. He woke up the next morning with a mess in his sheets.

He didn't even want to show his face at work, and he considered calling out sick. He managed to make it almost all the way out onto the tarmac by his F/A-18 when Payback and the others cornered him.

"You're looking really suspicious, man," Payback accused. "You're out, aren't you?"

Hangman nodded hoping to quickly steer the topic elsewhere. "Yes, I'm out. Congratulations, Bob. You win the gold star, man."

Bob pumped his fist in the air, and the rest congratulated him on his nutless month.

But it was with untrusting eyes that Rooster turned back toward Hangman, who was trying to sneak up the ladder into his aircraft. "Hey, Hangman! How did you get eliminated?"

"It's not important," he mumbled in response.

"Come on, everyone else admitted to how they got out," Rooster replied. "Couldn't be worse than ejaculating after a tongue touched you for approximately two seconds."

"Couldn't be worse than getting hard to Star Wars," Fanboy chimed in with a self-deprecating smile.

Hangman cradled his head in his hand. "Ihadawetdream."

Phoenix howled and bent in half laughing, but the guys all stepped a little closer to hear him better. "Sorry, you what?" asked Coyote.

"I had a wet dream!" Hangman shouted. "Okay? Happy now?"

And now the guys were howling along with Phoenix.

"Yes, hilarious," Hangman drawled. "How did you manage to win, Bob?"

Bob smiled serenely at everyone. "Oh, I practice mindful meditation for stress relief. Plus, my wife has been in Europe for work all month, so it was quite easy."

Bob jumped back as the guys all shouted at him in bewilderment. "You're married?!"

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

This fic is ridiculous!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@yaboid19

@mak-32

@miles-rooster

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@grxndedwt

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@babybloomers

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@thedroneranger

@changlingkhat

@callsign-echo

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@katiebby04

@andycanbeemotional

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@cherrycola27

@ccbb2222

@bradshawsbitch

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-andreadytocry

@xoxabs88xox

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman fic #rooster fic #top gun imagine #no nut november

1K notes · View notes

pix3lplays · 10 months

Note

Help you’re giving me silly prompt ideas, starting with this one!

Imagine you and your beloved (with some encouragement from both of your friends and potential in-laws) go out on a much needed date while your friends babysit your kiddo.

What silly chaos/escapades do you find/learn of when you and your spouse return?

This prompt is for Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt, Dang Heng, and Blade, and the babysitters are as follows:

Gepard- Serval (best aunt ever!)

Jing Yuan- Yanqing (Jing Yuan managed to convince him to think of babysitting as part of his training XD)

Welt- Astral Express Crew (Mayhaps Himeko)

Dan Heng- Astral Express Crew (March 7th + Trailblazer >:3c)

Blade- Kafka and Silver Wolf :3c

Have fun! XD

AAAAAAAA I am OBSESSED with this prompt, let’s do it! Thanks for sending it in!

-Babysitting night!-

Gepard Landau: Assigned babysitter: Serval. She insisted she could watch your kids for a bit while you guys went on a much deserved date. Little did she know what she was getting into. Gepard tried, he TRIED to warn her, but she insisted. Serval is Absolutely the best aunt ever, doesn’t mean she didn’t underestimate just how ROWDY her little brother’s children were. We’re talking CRAZY. She didn’t know what to do to get them to calm down. She tried playing a board game. Oh they hated that. She tried to turn on a movie, talking and screaming throughout the entire thing! Finally, desperate, she goes for her guitar and plays them a song. Now this actually gets them to shush and pay attention. Sure she’s stuck to playing kid’s songs, but at least they’re finally a little calmer. You come home to Serval passed out on the couch, guitar not in her hands, but in the hands of your kiddos. Gepard liberates the guitar from the children while you wake up Serval. You want to be a little upset at her for falling asleep on the job, but you also can’t blame her. “Your kids are nightmares!” is the first thing she says when she wakes up, but she’s smiling, telling you she didn’t mind they were little nightmares for her this evening. You thank her for watching your kids, and hope her guitar wasn’t too damaged when they had their turn with it…

Jing Yuan: Yes, Jing Yuan would absolutely pawn off his kid on poor Yanqing and insist it was ‘training his patience’ or something ridiculous like that. Yanqing is understandably skeptical, but he was given a mission by the General and he’s Determined to fulfill it. Actually Yanqing isn’t a half bad babysitter, but he doesn’t realize your kid is a bit too young to appreciate rare swords. Oh…Yanqing please don’t let their little kid too close to them… He also doesn’t know what to feed small children either…ah well… What’s the Hsr equivalent of Dino nuggets? He feeds them that. Which is honestly not the worst thing he could’ve chosen. You get back to find Yanqing and your kid just chilling on the couch watching a movie. Not bad, Yanqing! Jing Yuan gives him the ‘mission completed’ speech, and asks Yanqing if he wants to hear how the date went. To which the kid promptly answers with: No, and gets back to practicing his swordsmanship before bedtime.

Welt Yang: ok honestly?? Himeko is a great choice for babysitting. She’s calm and proper, and very willing to take your kid off your hands while the two of you have a nice dinner or whatever it is the two of you want to do for the evening. Heck, she was the one who suggested that the two of you take a break from your kid for once and enjoy yourselves. She’s very good with your kid overall, although she does let them try her evening coffee, so they are a bit energized when you come back to the Express. Welt is a little irked about the coffee, but otherwise Himeko did great, and so the two of you thank her, and take your energized little kid off to bed for the evening, after letting them play off the one little sip of coffee they got, haha.

Dan Heng: Dan Heng was hesitant to let March 7th and the Trailblazer watch your kid while you have a relaxing evening out. In fact he’s nervous the entire date, asking if he should call March or the Trailblazer to check on things and see if things are going okay and if you need to come back to the Express. You tell him absolutely not, we’re enjoying our relaxing evening together, March and Trailblazer will be FINE. And I mean…they do OKAY I guess. March 7th thinks your kid is the cutest thing in the world. So she spoils them. With lots of sweets. And Trailblazer does nothing to stop her. So by the time you get back, your kid is practically bouncing off the walls of the Express. And March 7th of course denies giving them too many sweets, but Trailblazer rats her out. Dan Heng is disappointed but not surprised. At least your kid is happy and in one piece.

Blade: who in their right mind would leave their kid with Kafka and Silver Wolf?? You would. Because you were desperate for a date night with your beloved husband, and surely, surely they’d be okay for one evening right? You lay down the rules pretty quickly. Silver Wolf, no violent video games! Kafka, make sure Silver Wolf follows your rule. Simple. Rules. It was all you asked of them. And guess what you return home to find? Silver Wolf and your kid, sitting on the ground, playing the Hsr equivalent of Doom, while Kafka watches from the couch. Safe to say you’re a little irked. Lucky for them, you had a lovely date night and you could only stay so mad. But if your kid had nightmares, you knew who to blame. At least your child is alive and well, right? So could you really complain? Well honestly yes they broke your one rule, but WHATEVER your kid was okay and that’s all that mattered. Next time you’re hiring a sitter though and not relying on Blade’s work friends.

188 notes · View notes

fugos-lil-fork · 1 year

Note

Hey! Can i please request bucci gang + trish headcannon where they have been dating g/n s/o for few months now, but s/o has been canceling dates for another bucci gang member and they starts to feel like s/o doesn’t love them anymore, but s/o has secretly planned a suprise party for them!😭❤️

Im sorry if the request is too much! You can ignore if you don’t wanna write this!😗❤️

Have nice day/night🫶

It's alright! It's not too much! Tysm for the request! I hope you have a good day as well! (´ ▽｀).。ｏ♡

~➗🍓🍊🐞⏳🔫🤐~

Bucci Gang with s/o avoiding them to plan a surprise party!

Abbacchio;

He is quick to feel hurt about you avoiding him

Without knowing what's going on, he thinks this is your way of informing him that you're losing interest in him

He, himself, still was a bit in disbelief that someone like you could love someone like him

So, deep down inside, he almost expected a day like this would come-

And so, he began distancing himself from you as well

Sometimes even ignoring you when you did have the time to interact with him

You were quick to catch on

Unfortunately, because if this you had to break the surprise party to him before actually showing it to him-

He's so disappointed in himself-

He felt both ridiculous for thinking you would do such a thing

But also thought you were ridiculous for thinking he would like a surprise party-

Nevertheless, it all ended with awkward chuckles and soft apologies and a gentle kiss

He appreciated the gesture of you trying to throw him a party.

But request for them not to be a surprise ever again-

And you reassure him that you'd never hurt him in such a way

In the end he's just very happy and glad to know that he still has you

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Bruno;

His first response is to worry about you

He thinks maybe there's something going on with you that you're afraid to share and therefore are avoiding him in order to not say anything

Tries to approach you to ask you what's wrong or to ask if you could at least talk to him later

Unfortunately, you'll continue to excuse yourself from such conversations-

Eventually he convinces himself to just let you be

Maybe you just need time by yourself

Maybe you'll come to him when you're ready

Soon enough you did come to him, but apperently not to talk but rather to take him somewhere

He tries to talk to you while you're rushing him to your destination

However, he's soon cut off by everyone else jumping out cheering "Surprise!" And wishing him a happy birthday

He's unbelievably happy and humbled

He's quick to realize why you've been distant

He tells you he genuinely thought something was wrong so he's glad to see you were just planning a surprise party for him

You reassure him if something ever were to be wrong, he'd be the first to know

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Mista;

He was actually pretty chill about it

Shrugged your actions off

He figured you were probably busy or had other more important stuff to do

Hell, he even forgot to ask you what was up later on-

He just had completely convinced himself that you simply had other things to do-

So, it was definitely a bombshell when you revealed his surprise birthday party to him

He was immediately excited and thanked you repeatedly for the surprise

Definitely pulls you into a kiss as well

Then tells you he honestly thought you had just been busy doing something else

But was glad to see that he was that thing you were so busy about!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Narancia;

He gets pouty

Then makes it his official mission to try to get you to pay attention to him and quit avoiding him

But you make it harder for him to interact with you

In which case he begins to get upset

He starts to think that you're going to eventually leave him behind because your too busy for him

He ends up basically moping around

Battling his own thoughts.

Maybe you aren't leaving him.

Maybe you really are busy.

He definitely isn't very happy with himself thinking such things about you

And once you get his attention by asking him to follow you, those negative thoughts quickly begin to be lifted

Once you surprise him he's unbelievably overjoyed

Quickly tackles you into a hug and smothers you with kisses

Absolutely praising you for your hard work on planning everything out

And profusely thanking you for the surprise

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Fugo;

He's confused with your actions

Why are you avoiding him?

If you're busy you could just tell him

Rather than straight up avoiding him

He gets a bit pissy over this

But then that grumpiness turns into fear

Had he done something to you that you didn't approve on by accident?

Did he say something to you that you didn't like by accident?

He also begins to put some distance between the two of you

Believing maybe he did do something wrong and needed to give you time to talk to him again

You start to notice how distant he's becoming and approach him about it

You quickly explain he didn't do anything wrong but that you have something to show him

Once presenting him with the surprise he's completely taken a back

While he definitely cherishes the surprise party

Even though he also doesn't like surprise parties but he'll suck it up just for you-

He requests that next time to just make up a reason as to why you can't interact rather than make him worry-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Giorno;

He's also confused

Though, unlike Fugo, he doesn't get upset

He draws the conclusion that you most likely have something important to deal with and can't talk at the moment

At least that was his most rational explanation

However, he did find it odd that you couldn't just quickly tell him that

It would be better than just straight up ignoring him

Nonetheless, he actually tells you, himself, to just go talk to him whenever you have the time

He'll always be waiting for you after all

And soon enough you did go to him

But not just to talk, rather take him somewhere as well

The poor boy had no idea how to react to his surprise party

Just kinda stood there for a bit before politely thanking everyone and especially you for the gesture

Can't help but give you a peck on the cheek as a thank you for the party

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Trish;

She's offended-

Why would you avoid her?

She definitely doesn't think she's done anything to hurt you!

Or maybe she did?-

Starts to worry-

She tries to push the thoughts away though

But she can't figure out why you'd be avoiding her

You two trusted each other with everything, if something was wrong you'd tell her

Right?

She hesitantly tries to get you to talk to her but you always excuse yourself before she can get anything out

Eventually though, you came up to her wanting to take her somewhere

She kinda was grumpy about the request though

After all that time avoiding her, you really had the nerve to ask her to go somewhere with talking about how you had been acting?

Fine, but only because she loves you-

She reluctantly follows you just to be absolutely amazed by her surprise party

She turns to hug you tightly and give you a kiss

But then immediately scolds you about avoiding her-

Nevertheless, she loves her surprise and you!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

355 notes · View notes

thecameronchronicles · 1 year

Text

In the Middle of the Night

TW: smut. Language. Cockwarming. Slight Dom!JJ. Somnophilia.

Kook!Reader and JJ Maybank

SUMMARY: JJ awakes to a pleasurable sensation he continues you to quell.

WORD COUNT: 2000

REQUESTED

JJ sleeping over at his girlfriends house for the first time (kook gf)

🤍Totally ignore this if you don’t like it but while JJ and reader are cockwarming she has a wet dream with jj and he doesn’t know what he should do

In The Middle of the Night

JJ'S POV

It was the first time I could hold her in my arms without interruption. No curious younger sibling with an ear to her door and therefore no need to be silent. And there was also no fear of being ridiculed after she left in some quick afternoon rendezvous by Kie or Pope, where John B would have probably offered a high five. But for now, I could appreciate her for myself. No other Kooks trying to steal her attention and no other pogues reminding me of how she would get tired of me in due time.

No, I had her completely to myself. Her skin as soft as her hair as it rested on my lips. The scent of sex and coconut still lingering in the sheets beneath us as a swore I could never get enough of either. Her scent or her. My fingers began to trace her, needing to touch her for more than a moment. Favoring the way that, even in her sleep, her body reacted to my touch. With the angle in which she laid, I was able to adjust slightly and keep her at rest, before managing to witness her expression. Furrowed brows coming from the tease I made over her nipples, covered by the thin sheet from her adolescent bedroom. I fought the urge to suck, bite, even pull it free.

I needed her. I needed my girl. And I needed her now.

She was perfection, where I was stained. Gold to rust. Good to bad. And even as I lay nocturnal at her side, stealing every second I could to witness her, she was angelic and pristine before me. Even with skin still damp with former sweat and hair tousled in how I pulled it to my will in every position she allowed. Not one we haven't tried yet. But her body was still ethereal. Warm. Wet. Chilled. Clenching.

"Fuck..." I smirked, believing she was initiating some kind of encore to the apparent lack of satisfaction or desperation to repeat it. But I could feel her clench around me, my cock finding a home as she remained asleep, feeling her warmth wash over me in a single rush. Too warm. Too wet. Too fucking hot.

"JJ..." She moaned still asleep, my expression hollow in anything but lust.

I froze for a moment, wondering if it was how I touched her that made her coat my dick. A smile caught by the sliver of moonlight offering the same illumination to her. The squint made in her sleep and slight breathlessness coming back to rest as I couldn't and didn't care to fight my pout. Just as quickly as she found ecstasy, it slipped as a stain beneath us both. My cock suddenly brought to life to the flickers of her tension as my hand wrapped around her breast.

I needed her.

More than I ever thought possible.

Her skin felt softer, warmer, as I took it into my possession. There didn't exist a single inch of her skin that I hadn't touched, but it felt new to me at this moment. As if I saw her as vulnerable as our first interaction and the countless between now and then were fantasies. But I was desperate. I was hard as a fucking rock as I could feel my release already forming by those handful of clenches. And if I had to endure it, goddamnit, so would she.

My lips were soft to her neck but my hands were tight to her breast. I was sure they'd bruise and I didn't care. I wanted those pained moans to be because of me. I wanted them to wake her up.

Just not yet.

With my second hand beneath the same pillow hers had been for rest, I intertwined our fingers until she was helpless to me. I had her pinned, my ankle keeping hers flat on the bed, as she began to awaken beneath me.

"JJ?" She was already breathless. "What happened?"

"You came in your sleep, princess...had a nice little wet dream about me..." I could feel the heat from her blush on my forehead as I kissed her shoulder.

"I did?" You nodded.

"Made quite a little mess, too..."

"Ah...JJ..." She winced as I kept her flat. I was certain after how she'd come before falling asleep on my arms that she was still sore. And having come a handful of minutes prior, she was certain to be overstimulated. And I loved it. The pleas. The trembling. The way she spoke my name in desperation to stop, even as her body pulled for me to continue. Thankfully for her, and my own throbbing cock, I was never good at following directions.

"Don't worry sweetheart, you don't have to dream about it...I'll make it real..." I began a steady pace as she fought beneath me. But not to move or to stop, but to rival me. She wanted me deeper and she showed this in the way she would move against me. But my grip kept her still. It would show still in the way she spoke my name. That little whine that could annoy me when she complained about something first class was the same I craved in moments like this. Knowing I was both her savior and her tormentor.

"JJ..." She gasped as my thumb made teasing brushes over her clit.

"How many times have you had a dream like that? Waking up to soaked little panties?"

"Too often." I was slightly annoyed by this. All the times I could have made good on it as I intended to now. Well better late than never I suppose.

"All those ruined panties..." I scoffed into her shoulder. "When I can just ruin you myself..."

"Please...you do...so well..." I tightened both grips on her as my breath came to the shell of her ear.

"You always dream about me?"

"Every night..."

"What did I do?"

"This..." She confessed in relief before I retracted.

I was close. Too fucking close. I could come if she looked at me with those kind eyes beckoning me as the siren she could be. I wanted this to last. Even if I throbbed. Which happened to be a side effect to being with her.

I pinned her arms beside her head as I hovered over her, by chest intentionally breathing heavy to feel her nipples against me. Something so light had me needy to be inside her again. Not even the way she held onto me, which was enough to end me altogether.

"Did I take my time?" She shook her head "no".

"Was that because I wanted to come or because I wanted to make you?" I kissed her breasts as her fingers pulled through my hair.

"Please, JJ..." I raised my eyes at the perfect time to the two fingers teasing her entrance. Poor girl was drilling. Practically pouring out for me.

"You want my fingers, princess?"

"Two!" She gasped in desperation.

"Always so greedy-" but against my words, I obliged. One finger followed by the other as she stretched around me. Sultry and tight, just as she always was for me. No matter how many times I fucked her. She was always so fucking tight.

"I love how I can hear how badly you want me..." I explained as I relished the sounds made of my fingers and her excess. Not to mention the way her breath hitched when I came to that spot. The one that had her hands wrapped around my wrist.

"I'm not gonna last, JJ..."

"And who said I wanted you to?" I teased, dropping between her thighs and over her clit. She was soaked enough no spit was needed, but I loved the way her eyes rolled when I did. A single spurt and she was moaning uncontrollably beneath me.

"I'm so close, JJ-"

"You want them to hear back at The Chateau?"

"Wouldn't be the first time..." She reminded as I illuminated at the memory.

"Or the last..." I threaten sex as she arches her back.

"Right there!"

"Here?" I tease, slipping my hand just beneath where I knew could unbuckle her again in seconds. She attempted to move me back but I slip away.

"Stop edging me, JJ...please..."

"Not until you tell me what you dreamt of specifically, sweetheart. I wanna make all your dreams come true..."

"Then fuck me!" She belted as I paused for a moment, savoring in making her wait.

"Just like you did earlier. Harder. Deeper. Please, I'm so fucking desperate..." I planned to worsen this. I set myself between her legs however, her thighs clenching around me immediately. Fuck, she has that perfect vice I felt long after she was gone.

"Aren't you always?" I taunted as she whimpered and nodded.

"But I want to kiss you... everywhere...watching you squirm like that...moan like that...did something to me..."

"And I want that something inside of me, JJ...please..." But I wanted to torment her. I offered one finger, a handful of pumps, and a retraction. Two fingers, bending them to her g-spot and kissing her breasts, before pulling back again. I released this, taking occupancy over her nipples and clit as she shook beneath me. All until I knew one more stroke of my tongue would be her undoing.

"Say it again." She was exhausted before I was even inside of her on my final brigade of thrusts. Poor thing thought it would end this way.

I align myself to her sex. So fucking wet I could slide so easily. The thought making me flex.

"Fuck me, JJ...please..." She was weak but needy as her fingers to my shoulders validated this. And finally, our mutual torment was over.

"It's too much!" She cried out beneath me as I kissed her softly.

"You can do it, sweetheart. You always do. So fucking good for me..." It was difficult to speak with how she felt wrapped around me. But I needed to commend her. But then again, not enough words, or at least none I knew, could explain how I felt with her.

"JJ...I can feel it..." But somehow it wasn't enough. Knowing she was close, I needed her closed. Deeper. Harder. Just as she asked for. I pulled her knees to her chest and kept myself in this angle over her. The bed pounding into the wall as I wrapped my hand over the headboard, but it only sent it harder into the foundation.

"Can you still feel me, princess?" She was silent, her lips pulled apart as no sound emerged. And I knew the look well. She wasn't just coming, she was squirting. Her gasps returning as she coated me, our mutual thighs, the sheets, and I still needed more.

"Keep coming for me, baby..."

"I can't..."

"One more time...I know you can do it...just one more for me..." She complied, fighting the jolts made of her body as I climbed to my high within her.

Something erupted between us. Her or me, I couldn't dispute or claim. But the sheets were a mess along with our bodies. Claw marks and bruises would be left in the exchange as I kept her beneath me. Heaven on earth for only a moment before hellfire consumed me as my eyes opened to find her exasperated.

Even after this, I still wanted more.

And I would get it.

Just maybe after some sleep. As long as she didn't clench me like that again...

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK 2ND MASTERLIST

JJ MAYBANK AND KOOK READER MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

#jjmaybank #jjsmut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obx fanfiction #obxsmut #outer banks #obx smut #obxfanfiction #outerbanks smut #outer banks fanfiction

354 notes · View notes

yuriwritestwst · 2 years

Text

5 times Riddle has a bit of trouble adjusting to cohabitation + 1 time he falls right into place.

Notes: Riddle Rosehearts x GN!reader, friends to roommates to lovers, i wrote this for myself but y’all can read it too, there’s no plot lol

CW: Food, Riddle has a little bit of imposter syndrome, Riddle’s mom neglecting him

Riddle moves in with you after completing his undergraduate degree, not because he’s had the biggest crush on you since what seems like forever (since his freshman year of college), but because he’s now a med student and under crippling debt with no way to afford an apartment himself.

Sure, he could have probably found another med student on his school’s Facebook page to room with, but he’s never been great at sharing personal spaces with complete strangers. He’s just a little bit shy, somewhat awkward, and knows that someone who doesn’t know him will think he’s some sort of control freak even if he’s been trying to get better over the years.

In theory, you’re Riddle’s ideal roommate. He’s known you for long enough and spent enough late nights with you in the library stressing over his GPA to know that it takes a lot for you to get tired of him, so when you offered to split rent, he’s more than eager to agree. He only thinks of the pros early on before the move: the place is equal distance away from your job and his school, it has two separate bedrooms, and there’s a grocery store nearby for reasonable cost. He doesn’t consider the cons, or rather, he can’t imagine there being any cons with you in the first place.

When the move-in process and organizing is complete, however, Riddle is equal parts nervous (because he realizes late that he’s now living with you for an indefinite amount of time) and surprised (because he realizes he’ll be seeing you a lot more than before and is way happier about this than anticipated).

Granted, he doesn’t really know what to do now. He’s always valued his personal time, but he also doesn’t know how much personal time you need and whether or not relationships change when you move in with a friend. Would him striking up a conversation with you scrolling silently on your phone on the couch annoy you? Or is it something you’re waiting for while trying to be considerate for him? Are you worried that he’ll be the one who snaps at you, because then perhaps it’s then his fault for not making the message clear that he would never do something like that.

Riddle’s confused so he shuffles awkwardly toward his room and settles on his chair. He makes a mental list of possible conversation starters but figures that he’s better off staying quiet and playing it safe. He doesn’t want to create problems only after just moving in.

“Riddle?” he hears you call from the living room and almost jumps out of his seat.

“Y-yes?!” It comes out close to a shriek, and he wants desperately for both himself and his heart to shut up. “Do you need something?”

“No,” you say, trying to peak through his door. “Just wondering if you want to chill on the couch. There’s enough space for the both of us, you know?”

Riddle spirals into a new set of concerns, because he’s not sure if you’re just inviting him to be polite or if he’s already being rude for leaving you alone. He can’t believe living with another person is so difficult, but when you call for him again, he decides walk back out, arms stuck to his side and smile rigid. He’s stiff, and he knows you notice this, but he can’t help it. Even the way he settles himself onto the couch is mechanic, leaving a significant gap between the two of you that doesn’t feel quite right to him. It’s just a few centimeters that he wants to close. He stays still as stone.

“You know,” you say absentmindedly. He needs to find a better, quieter way to express surprise. “This is kind of like when we used to study. Not that it was that long ago, but I thought I’d miss us just sitting around doing our own stuff. Good thing we moved in together, huh?”

Riddle feels ridiculously stupid for being so worried, because you’re absolutely right. Why on earth was he so nervous about sitting on the couch with you when he already had spent four years across from you at a library table without a single worry about whether or not he was acting as appropriate company. And during the time, he didn’t worry, because he figured if you bothered to go back to that spot every day without fail, then that was enough. He supposes that if the only thing that’s changed is the setting, then perhaps it still is enough.

“You don’t need to think too much about it,” you murmur quietly, almost as if you were reading his mind. Of course. You always knew what to say to him. “Just do whatever feels comfortable to you.”

Currently, what feels right to him is sitting just a smidge closer to you, so he scoots over until shoulders brush against each other like they always had on the bus back to the campus dorms. It’s a little strange to Riddle, because he finds that everything and nothing has changed at the same time. Yes, he’s still nervous, but it’s the giddy kind of nervousness where happiness and maybe excitement start bubbling through. For a brief second, he thinks that everything will be okay.

He will, though, have to work on the surge of disappointment that hits him when you leave the couch first even though it’s a perfectly normal thing to do. It’s a process of telling himself that it’s not because he’s boring but that it’s just how people live their own lives during cohabitation. It’s a process like most things, but he can’t help but worry why it’s giving him such a difficult time.

And as if he’s not already having to go through mental Olympics to figure out the fine line between comfortable silence and friendly conversation, he comes back on his first day of med school on the same day you finish orientation at your new job. It’s not a big deal except for the fact that he finds himself reaching the entrance with you at the same time.

“Hello,” he says awkwardly, gripping his bag so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He watches as you fumble around with the keys, unlocking the door. The door to the apartment where you both live in, he reminds himself.

“Hey, Riddle,” you respond, not nearly as concerned as he is. “Doctor school doing you good?”

“Thankfully.” He walks in behind you, standing straight as pole while you take off your shoes. For some reason, he doesn’t move to do the same until you walk further in. “Unfortunately, it won’t stay this way. How was work?”

“Boring,” and just as you predict, Riddle rolls his eyes, because as he always says, boring is better than things spiraling into chaos. In fact, boring might be the best thing you could ask for on your first day. “Was the school nice?”

Riddle answers your question with ease, talking about how much quieter the library is compared to your undergrad days, how good the quality of the lecture hall is, and how neat the well-trimmed bushes outlining the main entrance walkway are. It’s only when he reaches the part about how much he appreciates the shine of clean linoleum floors that he wonders if he’s boring you.

It’s like cold water to his face when he realizes that the two of you now walked very different paths. For starters, you’re now fully employed and working a steady 9-5 job, but he’s still in school, same as always. He doesn’t have the excuse of being classmates with you anymore to talk about everything and anything related to his academics. From complaining about difficult professors to proofreading each other’s papers, he doesn’t have any pretext to talk to you about his life, and by extension, you don’t have any reason to listen to him. A pit forms in his stomach when he confronts the fact that he’s always unchanging, always the same, no matter how hard he tries.

(This is especially scary to him, because the more he watches you grow, the more he worries that you’ll leave him behind).

“Looking pretty troubled there,” you comment after Riddle abruptly stops in the middle of his rant. “Were the bushes that life-changing?”

He clears his throat. “No. I was just…worried that you find it dull. You don’t go to school anymore, after all.”

“Oh, but you know I love a good gossip session about the worst people aspiring to be doctors,” you reply with a mischievous grin. And he does know this, because it was the venting sessions with you that got him through the worst parts of his undergraduate years. “Plus, you know you can talk to me about anything right? That’s why I asked.”

“I’m sure you weren’t curious about how the floors of the auditorium looked,” Riddle says dryly with disbelief.

“Not true,” you protest, frowning. “I’m glad you don’t have to walk on cobblestone anymore, because I don’t think you’d last that long in heels without me being there to catch you anymore.”

“My heels got stuck one time.”

“And I caught you before you faceplanted onto the floor that one time,” you add. “That’s why you have to tell me everything, even if I’m not trying to be some fancy doctor like you are. I’m sure I’ll find a way to use it against you.”

“You will absolutely not.” He huffs and crosses his arms. “And I find this exchange rather unfair seeing as you haven’t told me anything about your job yet beside the fact that it’s boring.”

“Didn’t think you’d be interested.” You only notice how ironic it sounds when it leaves your mouth, much to Riddle’s amusement and slight upward quirk of his lips. “Fine. I guess you’re just dying to hear about how close my desk is to the nearest vending machine.”

Riddle, you discover, is indeed thoroughly invested, because even after you’re done describing your office layout, the people you came across during orientation, and what your project manager is like, he asks even more about your commute there and what your work will be like even though he doesn’t understand anything about computers. He thinks this is a one-time thing, of course, because once he actually starts school work, there’s no way you’ll care about what his textbook says or how his professors are, but the following day, when he comes home to you, you ask him about his day again. And again. And it’s strange to Riddle, because even without pretext, he finds how easily he can talk to you about anything even if you seem worlds apart from him.

“Look at this leaf!” you text him one day on your walk to the train stop. “It’s so ugly.”

“Good morning to you too,” he texts back as he walks to his next class. He hesitates on sending his next message, because he hates nothing more than double texting. “I’m on my way to my biochemistry of medicine class. Take care on your way to work.”

Admittedly, you have no idea what the biochemistry of medicine is or what it consists of, and Riddle knows that, but he holds onto the sliver of hope that you’ll ask him about it when he comes home later.

(You do ask him about it later and tease him when he starts nerding out. He doesn’t mind).

Neither of your schedules really match on weekdays with you being gone at work for the day and Riddle at school; he’s sometimes gone first thing in the morning and sometimes back when you’re almost ready to go to bed depending on the day. Even on weekends when you have the luxury of a break, Riddle’s off on his 12-hour shift in the ER from 7 AM to 7 PM. Much to Riddle’s dismay, he thinks he might see you even less than he did before moving in with you.

One thing, however, is guaranteed—or at least becomes guaranteed—when he comes back home Saturday night at 8:30 PM, and you’re sitting at the dining table.

(It’s not actually a dining table but a round desk made for children that you managed to fish from IKEA, because the entire apartment layout is Not Very Big).

He glances, basically stares, first at the warm smile you greet him with and then at the two plates of food with plastic wrap covering them. He raises an eyebrow in question, especially when he notices that the plates are still warm.

“I thought you said you were going out with your friends today,” he comments, not really registering what was going on. He always made sure to memorize your schedule and is worried that he’s slipped up for the first time. “Why are you here?”

“I’m your roommate?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he retorts, and you laugh. “I meant why aren’t you out right now, and why haven’t you eaten?”

“Well, I got tired of being out for the entire day so I came back,” you explain very matter-of-factly, “and then I noticed that some of the things in the fridge were going to go bad, so I made dinner.”

“But why haven’t you eaten yet?” Riddle repeats, scrambling around the apartment to put his bags and jacket away. This is something new he’s learned how to do, talking to you without necessarily being in the same room. The first few times, he does it by accident and apologizes immediately, but with the understanding that he’s tired and busy, you reassure him that it’s no big deal at all and that the apartment is small enough for you to hear him loud and clear anyways.

“I was waiting for you,” you respond. He pauses. “Duh.”

Riddle doesn’t know what to say after except a soft, “Oh,” that escapes his lips and makes his way toward the table, carefully pulling the chair out so that it doesn’t scratch against the floorboards. He watches you, unsure, and copies you when you start removing the plastic wrap off your plate. You take a bite. He follows. You take a sip of your water. So does he.

Truth to be told, he can’t remember anybody waiting for him. Sure, he’s made plans to eat with people before, you included, which would mean that he and another party would meet at the same time and agree to eat at said time.

This is new unplanned and uncharted territory. He always figures that with a temper like his that flared up at any possibility of being late, anybody who knows him would hold him up to that same standard. He never expects anyone to weave him into their time, especially when he hasn’t always been the most flexible.

This combined with the fact that not even his own mother would wait for him makes this experience feel utterly foreign. He can only recall her always eating dinner at 6:00 PM. If he was stuck doing his workbooks because he couldn’t complete them quickly enough, then that was his fault. More than often than not, young Riddle would walk out of his room at 6:30 PM, peering into the empty dining hall and then climbing onto the seat only to be met with a cold, unwrapped bowl of bland soup. He’d sip on it as slowly as possible to delay being reprimanded.

“I’ll…wash up,” he says finally, eying at your nearly empty plate. “It’s the least I could do since you went through all this trouble.”

You shake your head. “I told you, Riddle. I just wanted to get rid of some ingredients before they went bad. Plus, we get to spend some time together. Two birds with one stone, really.”

It’s almost ironic how lonely he realizes he was when living with his mother even though he spent nearly every second of his adolescence under her watchful eye. Compared with how just ten minutes sitting across from you makes him feel, the contrast is almost laughable.

“Thank you.” He wonders if he’s able to convey exactly how grateful he is. Expressing himself was never his strong suit. “I mean it.”

“Yeah?” You place your utensils on your now empty plate and think for a bit. “We should do the dishes together. It’ll be done faster that way.”

Even though Riddle wants to tell you that it’s his duty to repay your kindness, he finds himself indulging in it today. In fact, like his childhood self, he finds himself eating slower than usual tonight to bask in your presence, waiting for him. He feels special, because even though you have all the rights in the world to just leave him there and continue your day off, you stay. It makes him feel like he’s worth something.

The following day after he gets off his shift, he texts you that he’s bringing home desserts from a bakery on his way back. You text him that you’ll be waiting for him, and he thinks that this is something he could get used to.

It’s admittedly very strange to say, but Riddle develops a love for Post-It notes. They’re not for himself to keep track of tasks, as he already has his own trusty pocket book to jot down things he needs to keep in mind, but he finds them rather endearing when you start leaving them all over his door.

He swears he’s trying to see you as often as possible, but with final exams looming over him, he spends all of his free time in his room, studying for hours on end and with minimal breaks. He appreciates you for being so considerate and understanding of his circumstances, entering the apartment as quietly as possible and making little noise in the kitchen. He knows you like leaving the TV on from time to time just to have some white noise, but he hasn’t heard it for a while and figures he owes you a lot after he’s done with his work.

One morning about three days from his first final, he leaves his room for a bit to get water from the kitchen and finds a little neon orange note stuck to his door. Blinking his dry, tired eyes, he leans in to read it.

“This is the last stretch! Good luck with studying! There’re some leftovers from the take-out I brought home yesterday, so help yourself!”

And like everything you do, it makes his heart flutter. He wonders if this is something he should respond to formally, like a letter from an acquaintance, but he’s not even sure if he can consider this a letter. He walks back into his room briefly, rustling around his drawer for a small pack of sticky notes he received for free at school fair and scribbles his response.

“Good morning,

I hope this note finds you well and in good health. Thank you very much for the leftovers. Once I’m done with my exams, I’ll take the proper measures to make this up to you.

Best regards,

Riddle Rosehearts”

It’s still early in the morning, earlier than when you usually needed to wake up to barely make it to work on time, so he very gently places his note on your door and continues on with his day. Between quick sips of water or tea and sticking his head out an open window to take in fresh air, Riddle studies and studies until the sun is down. He decides finally that he needs to stretch his legs and opens the door of his room to pace around the shared area. Another sticky note.

“LOL.”

His eyebrows raise, scrutinizing the small piece of paper and flipping it over just to make sure he isn’t missing any other writing. What was so funny?

“Good evening,

I’m glad you’re finding something amusing. I would find a little context very helpful in this scenario. Feel free to let me know when you have the time.

Sleep well,

Riddle Rosehearts”

There’s a lot more he wants to write like how much he wants to eat with you again or asking you if your work is going well, but he realizes that he has neither the time nor the space to fit the essay he has drafted in his mind for you. He settles for this instead, sticks it onto you room door, and goes back to study when he finishes circling the kitchen ten times. He’s not having the most fantastic time right now, but he’s eager to find another note from you when you wake up tomorrow morning.

Riddle takes a break day, not because he realizes that finals week had run him through the wringer, but because you all force him to take a day off from his shift at the ER by taking a day off yourself. He feels a little guilty for having you throw away your plans for the day, especially when he doesn’t have a single clue on what he wants to do. He’d prefer not to leave the apartment, being worn out from running on four hours of sleep each night for the past week. Frankly, it seems like a waste for you now to be watching him solve crossword puzzles in complete silence.

He’s not ashamed about his hobbies, but he does acknowledge that not many people particularly enjoy watching others write in boxes for hours on end without doing anything else. You tell him you’re just making sure that he’s resting properly, and he understands your concerns, but did you really need to be so close to him? He’s not a child that needs to be surveilled, and he certainly is having just some problems concentrating knowing that if he moves toward you any closer, he’ll feel your breath down his neck.

And then, you choose to rest your chin on his shoulder, still watching him as he ponders on five-lettered synonyms for ‘fictional book.’. He startles from the slight slouch he’s fallen into during his earlier concentration, but you don’t say a word. Riddle thinks you’re teasing him, but something about how your warmth radiates against him settles his rapidly beating heart. It’s entirely different from the brief shoulder-to-shoulder bumping or the electric that rushes through his body whenever his hand brushed against yours while handing you a box of tarts. All of those had been quick, fleeting moments he considered accidents. This was absolutely deliberate.

“Are you…tired?” he tries, wondering if this was perhaps your way of telling him to choose a different activity to do. “You can always go about your own day and do as you like-.”

“I’m just comfy like this,” you murmur, voice tinged with sleep. It tickles his ear, but he tries his best not to yelp. “Should I move?”

“N-no,” he stammers, shy. “If you’re sleepy you could…”

Riddle pauses. The sane, sensible answer he could provide is to tell you to go to bed and take a nap, to tell you not to worry about him because he knows how to take care of himself and is a proper adult. For some reason, though, the thought of losing your weight against him makes him feel a little empty. He can’t really comprehend it, but he knows that the moment he tells you move from him, he’ll be left feeling lonely, and he doesn’t want that.

“If you’re sleepy, I’ll just move,” he starts, changing positions so that he’s no longer facing the arm of the couch and instead properly resting against it, “and you can lean on my shoulder like this.”

You only hum in content, also readjusting yourself, and Riddle cycles through exactly three stages of emotions.

The first stage is obvious nervousness, but the good kind where his stomach does flip flops and everything feels fuzzy. You’re so close, and he can’t help it, becoming finely attuned to your breathing, the smell of your shampoo (which, much to his delight, is his shampoo, too), and the way your eyes struggle to stay open.

The second stage settles down the first. It’s the wave of relief that floods through him once he realizes you’re comfortable enough to fall asleep on him. He feels strong and reliable, but more importantly, he finds satisfaction that he’s able to help you rest. He tries his best not to wake you up, dutifully staying still as a log.

The third stage is more of a cumulative realization of all his concerns since he moved in with you. It’s his embarrassment at the fact that he’s still been so nervous around you, making a big deal out of his inadequacies even though he knows you consider him enough. He doesn’t know why it takes so long for him to realize that even through all his concerns, he falls easily into your affection every single time and that you have never once pushed him away.

Loving you and being loved by you has always been the easiest thing in this world, and he almost laughs at himself for taking this long to understand.

+1.

Riddle rearranges his work schedule during his break so that his weekends align with yours. He figures that there isn’t any point in being home on the days you’re at work, so for the rest of his summer, he has the best weeks of his life.

It’s 9 AM on a Sunday morning, and Riddle groggily wakes up in his room. Normally, he’s up at the crack of dawn, but he wakes up late today—or at least what he considers late—for two reasons. The first is that he stayed up late with you in your arms the night before while marathoning bad reality TV. Personally, it’s not quite his cup of tea, but he’s more or less watching you laugh the entire time rather than actually focusing on the show anyways. The second reason is that he knows that there’s no way you’re able to sleep past 9 AM today, because like clockwork, the garbage truck rolls by for the weekly trash disposal, waking up the entire apartment complex.

He listens from his room to the creaking of your bedroom door and the shuffling of your feet against the wooden floor before getting out of bed himself. Peering into the shared area, he sees your back turned away from him at the kitchen counter where you start to get breakfast ready. There’s never been a rule on who should cook breakfast or not, but Riddle’s a disaster of a cook and would much rather do the dishes in exchange for food that’s seasoned and unburnt.

“G’morning,” you murmur when you feel his arms wrap around your waist and his head against your back. “I hate that truck. They could’ve picked any other day when people aren’t sleeping in.”

“We could just nap together later,” Riddle proposes, slightly flustered, but with the both of you completely free all day, he can’t think of anything better to do. “That is, if you’re still tired, of course.”

“You’re becoming a lot bolder as of late.” Your chuckle resonates through him, and he remains silent for a moment. His eyes follow your hands as they insert bread into the toaster and reach for the cabinet above to grab strawberry jam. When the toast is ready, it’s his signal to start preparing the tea.

“Perhaps,” he muses, letting go of your waist after one small squeeze. Although, he’s not sure if he’s getting bolder or if he’s getting more comfortable. Or maybe it just feels right to be more honest with you now. “Sugar and milk?”

“Yes, please,” you respond, not really knowing why he asks when he knows how you like your tea by heart. You suppose he just always needs some type of affirmation, so with a grin, you smile and say, “Riddle? Love you.”

Without missing a beat, cheeks tinted with the slightest of pink, Riddle responds with a nod.

“Thank you. I adore you as well.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst wonderland #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #5+1 times #and they were roommates #twst x reader

482 notes · View notes

pbs-theundeadmaggot · 10 months

Text

first love // alone (out of my head)

🎶 alone (out of my head) by thousand below

(AU) Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] ngl I dont love this filler part but hopefully it isn't too bad, we're officially half way through now. Hopefully Steve ups his game if he wants us or will the new guy get lucky at winning your heart?

[warnings?] insecurities, drinking, mentions of cheating, self-doubt.

first love masterlist here!

Looking in the mirror and smoothing down the sides of your dress you couldn’t help feeling somewhat stupid. The dress looked amazing on you, the soft fabric hugging your body in the most flattering way. Even Robin complimented your look which coming from her were a rare occurrence, usually reserved for her girlfriend and their cat.

you just wished you felt as good as you looked.

Instead the reflection staring back at you felt like a stranger, the image taunting you with a life you could’ve had and perhaps in another life you did have. Maybe you’d be going out on a romantic date or celebrating a wedding anniversary, anything seemed better than what was on the horizon, with your luck you’d be attending wedding after wedding within the next year, all a reminder of how single and unwanted you are.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You’d yet to go out into the city at night, not realising how magical it looked with the lights shimmering and bouncing off the still water. It felt like stepping into another dimension, people scattered around laughing and chattering away with not a care in the world, the smell of cigarettes and salt never seemed so enticing.

As expected Rebecca had got you all into a ridiculously expensive restaurant downtown, everyone that entered looking like they walked straight out of a vogue magazine, the diamonds on their jewellery most likely costing more than all four of you put together, excluding Rebecca for obvious reasons.

Glancing over at Steve you could tell he was nervous, continually tugging on the collar of his dress shirt, the light layer of hairs that peppered across his chest peaking through and the sweat glistening on his neck.

Just the sight of him had you restless in your seat.

Clinging to his free arm stood Rebecca, walking over with a sickly sweet smile and taking a seat with Steve trailing behind her. You’d grown accustomed to her overly dramatic and draining conversation, learning to zone out and enjoy the view (the free food certainly didn’t hurt either.)

In the distance you could make out the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, in all its glory lit up like a Christmas tree. The sunset in the horizon framing it’s detail and outlining the rows of buildings that stood nearby. Originally your plan had been to confess to Steve up there, the hope blooming in your chest as you thought back to all the little things that hinted Steve shared your feelings. As delusional as it sounds you truly thought you’d get your happy ending, after everything that’s happened how could you not?

Perhaps you would get your happy ending

Just not with Steve.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

The meal was surpassingly nice, either you had one too many drinks or Rebecca had magically become mute, you weren’t complaining. In fact, some guy the bar had been kind enough to send over drinks, sending you a shy smile before resuming his conversation with the bartender.

Unsure of how much time had passed before stumbling out of the restaurant with the others and hailing a taxi, the chill of the late night air sending shivers down your spine. Steve had somehow noticed this quickly pulling his jacket off and attempting to hand it over before Rebecca stopped him. Completely oblivious to the lovers quarrel that began to take place, the same guy who’d sent you drinks walked over, doing the exact same as Steve had tried to do, this time successful.

“You really don’t need to do that.” Stunned at his kind gesture as he assured you that he couldn’t ‘watch a pretty girl go cold’. The heat from the alcohol rising to your cheeks, swaying slightly as you laughed, believing he was but a figment of your imagination.

“I’m sorry if this is too forward but do you think I could get your number?” Unlike Steve’s usually charm when asking a girl out, the stranger stumbled over his words, nervously running a hand through his hair, awaiting your answer.

Part of you felt conflicted, it had been so long since you’d dated you weren’t even sure if you knew how to. The last date you got asked on having been years ago when you were still obliviously hung up on Steve you’d profusely apologised, feeling that if you went on this date it would be the same as cheating, and if there was one thing you hated it was cheaters.

Obviously you weren’t actually in a relationship with Steve at the time (or ever) you still couldn’t bring yourself to look elsewhere, but now things had changed. Still single and under no obligations to remain faithful to someone who acted like a ghost half the time, you accepted. Excited at the prospect of someone realising the potential you had, even if it was a one night stand or a short fling you were happy, happy that someone actually wanted you, that someone actually saw you.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

[a/n] reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged!

Other works available here!

Taglist: @freezaz123

#stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #x reader #pbs-thedesecrated #pbs-firstlove #steve imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve x reader #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery imagine #joe keery

25 notes · View notes

twilightknight17 · 3 months

Text

Today on P3R, we spend at least 3 days playing an MMO, let a small child steal our food, and head to The Club for a night of… well, actually we just popped in and then went home to go on the computer. Minato is me, for real. XDDDD

So it’s the start of Golden Week, which means days off school! Which means I can barricade myself in my room and play the game Junpei gave us!

We’re off to a great start. EP starts in October, and IS starts in August, so, close enough. I wonder what the plot is gonna be li--

...

......

.........

WELL. I guess he’s here in some small way, at least.

Of course, even when it’s a fake version of Phil, he’s just giving his vague speeches.

Thanks for the enlightening intro about anything that’s going on in this game, Phil. No other info is forthcoming. We just load into an area called Shinagawa Dungeon (which is not P2) and are immediately approached by another player.

...it’s 2009. It’s 2009. It’s 2009. I’m fine. X’D

Did people really ask “ASL” on MMOs?? I thought that was like a chatroulette/omegle/etc thing.

At least she’s nice, even if she talks like the most LOLSORANDOM 2009 Internet Girl.

...You can’t call me Tatsuya the whole game. You can’t. Aaaaaaa.

I’m having a stroke. Oh my god.

Anyway, Golden Week vacation is not a whole week, so it’s back to school on Thursday to guess my way through another class. At least I guessed right this time. But all my teachers continue to be completely ridiculous. None of them want to teach.

My education is suffering! Let’s go to track practice instead and worry about my physical health instead! Except wait, shit, Kaz has fallen down.

You are NOT fine! You collapsed!

He told his teammates he has anemia, but he confesses to Minato that his knee is fucked up. But he’s supposed to take over as team captain next year, and there’s a big national meet next year, so Minato has to keep it a secret.

Now I’m keeping secrets for TWO classmates. Good lord. Because Kenji wants me to keep it a secret that he’s gonna ask out the ethics teacher, so… grife. I guess I’m too used to P5, where most of my links involved making mutually beneficial deals. You guys are just… guys. XD Which isn’t bad, it’s just very different.

Anyway, Atlus, stop putting dudes on the track team and then giving them knee problems.

I’m also attending to my student council duties, and this dude needs to chill so bad.

Like… dude. The teachers at this school don’t give a shit, and you’re walking around like an army general.

My guy, it’s a single cigarette butt in the boys’ bathroom. This is not treason. Calm down. You’re gonna give yourself high blood pressure.

The manager of the track team walked home with us, and Minato got a new social link out of it. Which was interesting mostly just because it happened after track practice, so I got to do two things in one afternoon. Yuko is very nice, though.

I also went to the shrine to see the little girl, Maiko, and she pickpocketed my weird takoyaki and Mad Bull without actually asking. But I think that means that next time she’s there, she can be a social link too?

It’s been a day for social links, and the usual weird drinks.

I don’t know what happiness tastes like, but I’m suspicious as hell of that lemonade. It’s trying too hard to convince me. XD

The last thing I did around town was finally become courageous enough for Club Escapade! We are rocking out completely motionless up in the club.

I do like it here, though. And it gives me great reference pictures to use. XDDD I wish you had the option to dance, but nothing is perfect. I do wonder why the fortune-teller is in the nightclub, though. And the expensive accessory store???

The funny part is meeting the guy here so we can purchase URLs that lead to the dark web… and the first two lead to a random city rumor board, and an unofficial forum for the school. With… do we think this was renamed, or was it called this before and it’s just a call-forward?

SO. Now that we’ve stopped running around town, it’s the full moon, which means Mitsuru has detected another massive shadow! This one is camping out on the monorail leading to the island, so it’s going to be interesting getting there.

...like father, like son, lmao.

This was actually a pretty cool sequence. You do actually get to run down part of the tracks, but not before Junpei gets all pissy that Minato’s been put in charge again. As soon as you encounter the lesser shadows, he runs off to fight on his own.

It’s pretty clear what Junpei’s character arc is gonna be. We save his overconfident ass, and head for the front of the train.

Literally my worst nightmare, dude.

All the way at the front of the train, the Priestess shadow is driving it out of control, and looks… much more chill and tolerable than the Magician. XD It gives you a 30 minute time limit for the fight, which is fine… and then cuts that in half and in half again partway through. X’’’’D

I don’t do great with time limits. But we made it!

And did not die on the runaway train.

Hehehehe

Pharos promised to come see me afterwards, but he hasn’t yet. :(

Ah well, I guess, since I saved the world last night, I deserve to play my MMO all day on Sunday~

...I’m going to die. :’’’D

It is kind of funny how 2009 this is. You meet some random person online, and whoever they are, you just end up talking about random generic shit from your lives, no matter who’s an adult or who’s a teenager or whatever. In some ways, it was the best thing.

But now, time to log off. The phone is rin--

...never going to understand how the Velvet residents even have phones to call me with.

Anyway, I have been introduced to the Velvet door in Paulownia Mall, as well as Elizabeth’s requests. So next time, I guess it’s time to see what kind of nonsense she comes up with for me. But that’s two full moon shadows down, which means that barrier in Tartarus is down, too. So there will be lots to do!

#Li plays P3Re

9 notes · View notes

gotham-fan-shit · 2 years

Text

Bad Drunk

Pairing: Batboys x GN!Reader

Request: to summarise; reader gets very drunk

Warnings: Emetophobia (!!), profanity

Word Count: 687

A/N: Request asked generally for batboys but i limited it to those over 21 (as to not condone underage drinking which is #bad). enjoy!

Bruce

It was late when you came home, but it’s always late when he does, too. Alfred told him what happened. He found you in the bathroom, clothes stained, keeled over as you hurled into the toilet.

It’s not like you’ve never drunk before, but never enough to properly get hungover. On the positive, you’ve not blacked out. So it could always be worse.

Bruce comes up behind you and crouches down. You want to turn to smile at him, or talk to him, but you’re preoccupied with sobs and vomit, and you’d rather not look him in the eyes whilst you multitask.

In the end, he just sits with you. His hands grip your soldiers, and he’s quiet; understanding. He stays with you until the vomiting stops, and wipes your tears until those stop, too. He puts you to bed, getting you changed. Maybe he’ll ridicule you for it in the morning, or lecture you for your irresponsibility, getting so drunk in a city like this one. Maybe he won’t. For now, you let him stroke your head and you sleep in his arms.

Dick

He’s holding your hair back, combing through it as you kneel over the toilet bowl. He heard you in the bathroom when he came back from patrol, and having him gently comforting you in full gear is wildly comforting, and a little intimidating.

He mutters little things to you, but the rush of blood in your ears is just a bit too loud for you to be able to hear over. His arm is round you, supporting you as you grip the edge of the seat. Your head is pounding, and you figure constantly looking down isn’t helping.

Dick sits and rubs your back, running his fingertips up and down your spine. He’s being sweet, and gentle. You know if he were the one sick, he’d be insisting that he was fine and for you not to worry. You’ll take the excuse for him to fuss over you, though. It’s rare since he’s so often busy with something or another.

Even if the situation is making you feel like you’ve been dragged to hell and back. It’s worth it for his little murmurs and caresses (or at least you tell yourself. They don’t exactly stop you from feeling like shit).

So you let him comfort you until you don’t need him to anymore. Even then, you let him take care of you. He brings you water and pills and ticks you into bed. He’s still busy, working on some case or stopping a sibling from dying, but he occasionally checks up on you to make sure you’re okay. So, as far as awful drunkenness goes, this time wasn’t so bad.

Jason

Jason’s with you, and you’re drinking. You don’t normally, at least not on the scale you are tonight. He’s impressed, firstly, and then as the night progresses, he regrets not stopping you earlier.

By the time you two get home, you’re fumbling over yourself. By the time the proper purging of the alcohol begins, he’s already got you to the bathroom, holding everything out of your way as you throw up far more than you think can fit inside of you.

He seems almost bored as he crouches, one arm raised as the other offers you a towel to wipe your mouth with. And once you start crying, to wipe those with.

He’s surprisingly (and comfortingly) chill about the whole thing. Which you suppose is good. Maybe him completely fretting over you would make you feel worse. But he doesn’t, and it’s probably in part due to the “been there, done that” attitude he has.

Besides the point, once you’re done hurling your guts - and more - out, you’re exhausted. And he is, too, though of course he wouldn’t admit it. Drinking makes him tired. Nonetheless, after a small clean up, you get into bed together, and swiftly fall asleep. And it’s nice, and it’s warm and it probably won’t happen again until the next time one of you gets unignorably sick. You don’t mind, though. The once is more than enough for you.

198 notes · View notes

bananasfosterparent · 6 months

Text

Name: Efenity (Efe) Kelmorn

Toyhouse Profile:

https://toyhou.se/23127342.efenity-kelmorn

Pinterest Aesthetic Board:

https://www.pinterest.com/spiiceprincess/oc-baldurs-gate-3-efenity-kelmorn/

Personal Theme Songs:

Do Bad Well - KSHMR (ft Nevve)

Losing My Mind (ft HALIENE) - Tritonal

Unstable - Svrcina

All Eyes On Me - CRMNL

The Glamorous Life - Eden's Crush

Race/Species: Half High-Elf, (later) Vampire Bride/undead

Age: Mid 30s

MBTI: ESTP-A Class: Storm Sorcerer

Background: Criminal - Smuggling, transportation/import/export, haggling, heist planning

Proficient Skills: Intimidation, Deception, Persuasion

Personality: ESTP - Efenity is not a "nice person". She doesn't revel in being evil or mean necessarily... she just has no patience for stupidity and often just feels frustrated and angry all the time. But she holds it in. She can often be quiet, but speaks loud and heavy. She spent far too long being silenced, and when she has something to say, she's going to say it. But she doesn't share a lot about herself either. Mostly so it can't be used against her. She can put on airs and be sweet, charming, and kind when it's needed, but it's usually not with sincerity.

She prefers to be the biggest voice (and person) in the room, using intimidation (and her muscles) as a convincer.

It takes a lot for her to trust someone and be loyal to them, but once they are in her very, very, very small "circle" she trusts them completely. Otherwise... she'll sell you to the devil for a corn chip and think nothing of it.

Full Backstory: READ HERE (Google Doc)

Powers: Favors lightning and thunder magic, Flight, and...biting.

Allies/Friends: Shadowheart...and...? lol she doesn't make friends very well.

Significant Other: Astarion (Ascended)

Ship Pinterest Board:

https://www.pinterest.com/spiiceprincess/oc-baldurs-gate-3-efenity-kelmorn/efenion-efenity-x-astarion/

Ship status: Excellent Standing. At first, romping around with Astarion is just good fun. Efenity knew enough about vampires to know not to trust him. Moreover, her own issues with letting herself get close to people and fearing she will ruin and lose them (and vice versa) allowed her to keep him at a safe distance from her heart. Until she couldn't. She tried her best to not fall in love with him, but once he had confessed his own failure to do the same with her, the fight against it was pointless. She realized she cared about him more than she cared about even herself. Which was new, for her. In her own way of selflessness, she became his personal army and stopped at nothing to support his decisions. He wanted complete independence, revenge, and security? Consider it done. She helped him ascend and gladly took her place by his side, as his little love, his right hand, his Dark Consort. She'd go to the hells and back if he simply asked her to, and bring him back a souvenir. He wanted to live and she helped him become alive again. She trusts him with everything she is. She will praise him as her Lord and Lover forever and follow and serve him to the deepest depths. Their love is an unconventional and often misunderstood one, but remains true and deep for them. And that's all that really matters.

Ship themes (pulled from their ridiculously massive playlist):

Thunder - Primo the Alien

Salt & Vinegar (dEd Version) - Lights

Primordial (ft Niya Wells) - Satin Jackets

Parachute (Kat Krazy Extended Remix) - Matthew Koma

Misery - RUNN

If The Devil Is You - RUNN

Because The Night - The Midnight ft Nikki Flores ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yaaay it's Efe! I have sort of been avoiding Tumblr, first for Miraculous Ladybug spoilers and now I just was a bit unsure how the BG3 fandom was here, but I figured it's chill enough.

ANYWAY Here is Efenity, my lil caramel drop uwu Actually, huge caramel drop. She's a big lady lol I mostly did this for my own reference, but figured it would be good in general to have a "masterpost" of info about her.

I wanted to have a non-hero Tav to pair with Astarion and who also wasn't Durge. It took a little while but I'm really happy with her design and backstory! I'm really super happy with her in general and how she ends up. 😭💜

#buldars gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion romance #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #half elf #sorceress #efenity #my art

12 notes · View notes

zorilleerrant · 9 months

Note

Hi, just saw the word prompt thing? I don't know if you're still doing them or taking them, but if you are, would you mind something with either 25: Hair or 27: Sick with Bruce and/or Jason? Thank you so much! Love your writing ❤️❤️❤️

(absolutely still taking them! see this is the problem with reblogging everything in a row instead of in a queue because that post is like three hours old or something)

"I'm not sick," Jason says, once the coughing fit is over, trying to shove himself away from Bruce without stumbling over. If he falls while Bruce is watching, Bruce will know he's lying, and then he's done for. The thought only occurs to him when he's already leaning against Bruce's shoulder.

"I know you're not, Champ," Bruce says, and it's ridiculous hearing that tone of voice when he's full on Batman mode, the cowl on with smudges of greasepaint all across his eyelids, wrapping the cape around him like when he was small. It doesn't work. The cape back then was soft, quilted one patch at a time by Alfred's careful hand, and warm enough to keep at least the chill of Gotham's winds howling over rooftops at bay. Now it's the thinnest nanofiber metamaterial Jason's ever seen, soft as silk but not half as warm.

It's a nice night. He's only cold because he has the flu, but Jason always wears a mask, so why is that his fucking problem? Nothing's supposed to be able to get through the filters. Not even whatever has Bruce so wary, using dad voice even through his gas mask. "I'm fine. There's just a problem with the filters." Is there a problem with the filters? He was coughing earlier, and something smelled deep maroon and ominous. The people shuffling around the building - no one left inside, but not so far removed yet - are coughing, too. Speaking in strange voices, like they don't know what they're saying themselves. Their faces screw up when they try to talk.

"Jaylad? Are you with me?" Bruce says, pulling Jason's full weight against his chest, as if they're not in front of a crowd right now, cameras pointed at them from all sides. Jason barely refrains from shoving him away, feeling like a little kid trying not to get hugged at school again, and aware that most of the reason he's not pushing is that he doesn't have the energy, and he needs something to balance his weight on anyhow. "How much of that stuff did you breathe in? Here, list off your siblings, will you? I don't know who's behind this new toxin, but we'll find them."

"No one's behind it," Jason says, completely ignoring Bruce's instruction, and fuck him for trying to give it, anyway, Jason is fine. "Look around at the fucking building, B, it was a science fair. It was an accident. No one was behind - okay, actually, that's a lie, Black Mask is behind it, but it's not exactly like you can throw him off a roof over it, so." Jason can throw him off a roof. Maybe. Once he gets a good night's sleep, at least. Oh, fuck, sleep sounds good, right about now. If only Bruce would hurry up and get him to the Batmobile. Of course, if he says that, Batman's going to worry. Like an asshole.

"Black Mask?" Bruce says, in horror, finally moving them in the direction of the car, finally moving Jason out of the way of paramedics that he's absolutely certain would demand to take his temperature and then the jig would be up. "What the hell does he have to do with any of it? How long has he been running this plot?" Oh, sure, once you bring Roman up, Bruce is all invested again. Couldn't have just listened when Jason said the sprinkler systems needed to be double checked. 'Oh we just checked them last week' last week before the last villain siphoned toxins through them again, yeah. Some detective.

"Well, it's not about to help to fight crime at him, B, I assure you, all of his horrifying chemicals are perfectly legal," Jason says, climbing into the chair and reclining it so he can lie down and never get up again. He almost can't hear himself over the roar of the Batmobile's engine. "Some idiot posts a video about how you can hack the blush, soak it in alcohol and precipitate out the metallic component. You know the new bronze and silver ones? Yeah. Well, if you're not careful, you know. I was checking to see if it's made of Nth metal. Some precocious teens beat me to it, I guess."

"That can't possibly be legal," Bruce says, taking a curve a little bit slower than Jason would've expected him to, even on the drive home, even while they're having a totally civil conversation and Jason hasn't yet resorted to trying to bite him. "There are all sorts of regulations on strange metals. We voted on a referendum last week! And you're telling me he's doing this through his company? To, what, entice kids to accidentally cobble together bombs?"

"He doesn't fucking care about the kids, Bruce. I don't even know if he knows - like the advertising isn't even aiming at them, it's aiming at, fuck, celebrities and influencers and shit, he probably doesn't even know it can do this or he'd be selling the shit to Wall," Jason says, tiredly, words that would be mumbled through his hands if his helmet weren't beaming them straight to Bruce's earpiece. "He just found a way to pawn off his trash to the rest of his company, and told them to come up with profits. And they did! Like you always say, crime doesn't fucking pay, eh?"

"Okay. I very much do not want Amanda Waller to get her hands on this. You really think that's his long term plan?" Jason shuts his eyes, not that Bruce can tell under the mask. Because, like, did he fucking say that? Bruce never listens when Jason tries to explain in completely straightforward English - or any other fucking thing - what is going on in Gotham. He missed the limited edition pretzels, too. Asshole. A warm gust of wind blows across his face and Jason realizes that, at some point while he wasn't responding, Bruce pulled his helmet off. Undoing all the latches silently and everything. He's saying something soothing.

Jason ignores him. Wiggles his mouth a little; it's always easier talking when you don't have to aim directly at the mic. He's used to it enough it's reflexive by this point, but it still makes his jaw sore. "Yo, you know the mayor's get kickbacks, even the new one - I mean, I didn't ask him personally, so his kickback may be, like, his own head - there's no such thing as a regulation with no loopholes in Gotham." And then the kids try to mix it up and test out cool new properties, two projects get too close to each other, someone's baking soda volcano sets of a chain reaction or whatever happened in there. The sprinklers took a beat too long to set themselves in motion, Jason knows that part for sure.

"Jay, kiddo, you sound like you swallowed an entire sheep worth of steel wool," Bruce says, in that grudging way where he's trying to show emotion the way Leslie taught him to, but he sucks at it, because Alfie's British and never made proper expressions when he was a kid. Only the thing is he's turned the car to whisper mode and Jason can barely feel the rumble of the engines now, and Bruce's hand is stroking through his hair, and he could probably fall asleep, moving car or no. "Let's get you some of Alfred's soup."

"Yeah," Jason says, even though Bruce is right for once in his life, and Jason's voice does sound a thousand times more like sandpaper now that his voice modulator is gone. "Alfred is the one that misses me, sure thing old man." Actually, who Jason really needs to talk to is Lucius. Maybe over the phone, so as not to get him sick. Because if one thing will piss Roman off it's a fucking hostile takeover. Plus then they can hoard the metal to, whatever, build a Batspaceship or who knows what, like that part matters.

Bruce's hand stills, fingertips still cool against Jason's skull, and they just breathe like that for a few moments, in sync and slow, their heart rates slowing to rest, just the way he used to after a panic attack, even though Jason's pretty sure neither of them are panicking, unless Bruce cares a lot more than he assumed about a flu he's pretty sure he's mostly over anyway. Bruce squeezes his neck a little too hard, and hesitates before he opens the door. "Alfred does miss you."

#look i said something #my writing #batman #fanfic #jason todd #prompt game link in replies #this might be a little more Batdad than you were looking for but I see the word 'sick' and hey that's what happens #thank you for this ask I think this is the first time someone's sent a writing prompt for any of the ask games I collect #(btw all old ones are still open if anyone can find them but you'll definitely have to remind me of what they are)#(also I may have to learn to do shorter responses. I can write microfiction real good I swear)

12 notes · View notes

mrsreginagold · 2 months

Text

Fic: Just You And I Love

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: AU for the end of the first season. Ari shows up at Nikita’s loft instead of Alex. Nikita and Michael did not get together romantically.

Summary: A major change of plans puts Nikita on the run with a man she once considered an enemy.

Author's note: This is my first fic for this pairing, written roughly a year ago. My sincerest apologies for any formatting issues, it's been a long time since I posted writing to tumblr.

Nikari Fanmix Here

On AO3

Just You and I Love

It had all gone wrong in the worst way.

“I had it planned perfectly,” Nikita Mears growled as she hurried up the stairwell, arm in arm with the man who had botched said plan. “And then you showed up.”

“If you’ll forgive my impertinence on the matter, I hardly see how that,” Ari Tasarov gestured at the looming wave of fire that was literally on their heels. “Is considered a plan.”

She pursed her lips but denied him a response. Instead, she focused on getting them both to the roof.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” he stated, as if they weren’t fighting for their very survival and were having a completely ordinary conversation.

She glanced at him. “For what?”

“Oh, I don’t know: saving your life?”

“You took a bullet to the shoulder and then fell on top of me, how is that saving my life?”

“I beg your pardon, but I pushed you out of the line of fire. How we happened to land was a mere accident.”

“Was it now?” she arched an eyebrow, amused despite their dire situation.

After all – she and Ari had danced around each other flirtatiously from the moment they had met.

“On my honor.” He crossed a hand over his heart.

“Right. A criminal with honor. Silly me, should have seen that coming.” She shoved one final door open and stepped out into the chill of night.

Ari followed. “As ridiculous as an assassin with a conscience, then? What a pair we make.”

She whirled, fed up and exhausted. “Look. I have been chased, shot at, injected with multiple toxins…it has not been a good day. And the last thing I need is you lording over me with some bullshit superiority complex.”

His brow creased, genuine concern washing over his attractive features. “Toxins? Nikita: how are you even still standing?”

“Built up endurance. I admit that it slowed me down though,” she took a deep breath, shutting her eyes momentarily. “The fresh air is helping.”

In the next second, his fingers had curled under her chin to tip it up, and she blinked her eyes back open, his angular face looming closer as he inspected hers.

Unbidden, her lips parted when he ran his thumb over them, and she wasn’t certain what disarmed her more: his worried expression, or just how damn blue his eyes happened to be.

“We should get you somewhere safe where you can rest,” Ari finally surmised, his gaze drifting away from hers to survey their surroundings more closely. “If we procure a car, I can get us to shelter. First: we need a way off this roof.”

“I can rappel across to the other side,” she stepped away from him and looked over the ledge. “Can you climb down via the fire escapes?”

“Or I could rappel across the same way, I’m not an invalid.” There was a spark of irritation in the ordinarily dulcet tone.

She looked back over her shoulder to see him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression mirroring his words.

Nikita cleared her throat. “And make your injury worse?”

“It was a graze, Nikita,” he put emphasis on every syllable of her name, which prompted a shiver that wasn’t remotely unpleasant to ease up her spine. “I’m perfectly capable of holding on.”

She planted her feet more firmly to the ground and frowned. “All right then, show me.”

It was finally his turn to blink rapidly in confusion. “Beg your pardon?”

“Show. Me. Your. Arm.” Purposely, she bridged the space between them.

Though it took him a second to process what she was asking of him, he shrugged compliantly out of his over-coat and then his suit jacket. He then passed both garments to her while he un-did the knot in his tie.

Despite her best intentions to not be affected, her breath still caught when he started to pop open the buttons to the crisp white dress shirt he wore, revealing pale skin inch by inch until it was loose enough for him to slide it down the injured arm.

She shoved the miniscule bit of disappointment that he hadn’t taken his shirt off entirely to the far, far away regions of her mind and turned her attention to where it was needed.

As Ari had stated, the bullet had grazed him, and as far as she could tell there was no shrapnel stuck in the cut. Still, once they were safe, she’d definitely ensure the area was cleaned and bandaged properly.

“What’s the prognosis?” He inquired; his voice softer now that she was so close.

“For now, let’s make a tourniquet out of your tie. We’re going to have to ditch these clothes eventually anyway.”

There was a low chuckle. “If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask,” playfully, he began to undo another button on the shirt.

She stopped him before any more of his lean yet remarkably sculpted torso could be shown off. “Ari, be serious for a minute, please. It’s still bleeding, and I don’t want you getting weaker on me.”

He acquiesced and allowed her to wrap the silk around the junction of his bicep and shoulder blade.

Nikita apologized softly when he made a pained groan as she tied a firm knot to keep the fabric in place. “There, that should do it.”

He pulled his sleeve back up and re-buttoned his shirt most of the way, though he left the collar undone enough for her to get a glimpse of what lay hidden beneath.

She narrowed her eyes. He had to be doing so on purpose by this point.

In order to distract herself from staring at him, she moved over to a different part of the roof, where she’d hidden some emergency supplies and the rappel hook to get to the adjacent building.

Ari came to stand beside her once he was finished with putting his suit jacket and overcoat back on. “Is everything accounted for?”

“We should pick up some food and new clothes while we’re on the road, but other than that, I think we’re good,” she shouldered the duffle bag. “You want to go?”

“By all means, ladies first,” he made a sweeping gesture with his left hand.

“I guess chivalry isn’t lost,” Nikita murmured while she launched the hook across the building.

She tested the line for safety and stood on the ledge, about to grab on to the anchor so she could propel herself across, when he gripped her arm.

She paused. “What?”

“Be careful,” his gaze caught hers, the sincerity in it making her heart skip a few beats.

She tugged him forward by his coat collar, her mouth seeking his to initiate a tender kiss of reassurance.

His arms curled around her protectively and he deepened the embrace, his lips gentle and warm against her own.

Instinctively, she raked her fingers through his dark hair, allowing herself one light nip at his mouth before she pulled away.

He stared at her, those eyes glittering with a swirl of emotion that made her reluctant to part from him. “Make your way over once I send it back,” quickly, she grasped the carabiner and took off.

He followed soon after, landing on the parallel roof with grace and striding directly to her side. “See? Easy.”

She bit back a smile, took his hand, and together they headed down the stair-well.

“Next order of business is to get us some wheels.” Once they were out on the street, Nikita assumed immediate command. “Something that wouldn’t be traced right away so we have time to switch out the license plates.”

“I’ve gone on the run before, Nikita,” she was certain Ari was rolling his eyes judging by the sarcasm dripping in his tone. “Our best bet would probably be an impound lot.”

“Huh. You are more useful than you appear.”

His chest brushed against her back, alerting her to just how close he happened to be. “Darling, you’ll find that I’m full of surprises.”

Yes. Being a full-on temptation is arguably the biggest one of those.

They kept to the shadows and alleyways of the city until they found the local impound lot and Nikita quickly utilized her break-in skills.

From then on – it was a matter of finding a mode of transportation that was inconspicuous.

When they finally settled on a vehicle that was silver in color, she rummaged around in her duffle to see what she could use to hot-wire it, only for Ari to dangle a key in front of her. “I think it will be much easier with this.”

She gawked at him, wondering just how he had managed to sneak into the office and get back without her noticing. “When – how did you?

He exhaled, small clouds of breath emerging in the air thanks to the cold temperature and stuck his hands in his coat pockets with a shrug. “Stealth was my forte was I was in the field.”

Her eyes widened further, and her jaw dropped. “You were an operative?!”

“You could say that with less surprise you know.”

Impressed, she unlocked the door and flipped a switch that opened the passenger side. “It’s not that. I know you’re former KGB, but I guess I just figured you for more of an analyst.”

Ari’s mouth formed a bemused smile while he moved around to the opposite side of the car. “Let’s just say…I worked my way up.”

She slid into the driver’s seat, adjusted a few things including the rear-view mirror, and finally asked which direction they would be heading in.

“Go north, I’ll navigate.” He promised, settling as comfortably in the seat as he could.

Touched by his trust in her, Nikita put the car into the right gear and, with that – they were on their way.

They drove for several hours before stopping at a Walmart that remained open late, where they purchased some new supplies, clothing, and food.

Nikita finished changing in the gas-station bathroom first and waited, sipping at a hot coffee for both warmth and the necessary caffeine to keep going.

She was alerted to Ari’s presence when he cleared his throat, and once she got a good look at him, she nearly dropped the cup she was holding.

The man looked amazing in tailored suits, but a case could definitely be made for dark jeans, a flannel shirt, and a black leather jacket. Additionally: he’d tousled his hair so that it fell in looser strands over his forehead, and the effect was arguably a pleasant one.

He drew to a halt in front of her. “I feel ridiculous.”

“Yeah but you’re hot.” She blurted before she could stop herself.

He tilted his head, mirth lighting up his striking features. “Really?”

She coughed awkwardly, darting her gaze away. “I uh…I’m guessing they don’t have many of these places where you’re from?”

“What gave that away?”

“Well besides the fact that you have a taste for the finer things, I know that progress there is slower.”

“It’s a mix of modern and ancient, like many cultures,” he confessed, falling into step next to her as they exited the mini mart.

“Of course. I still can’t exactly picture you driving up to a McDonalds and getting a Big Mac, though.”

He snorted at the remark. “I prefer the Quarter Pounder.”

She laughed as well. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They reached the car and got back inside. Nikita immediately keyed the ignition so she could fiddle with the heater. “How much further do you think?”

“Another couple of hours.”

“And how’s the arm?”

“A bit sore.”

She laid a hand across his forehead to ascertain if he had a fever. “You’re a little elevated. There are some pills in the duffle. That should hold you over till I can dress the wound.”

“I’m trying not to read too much into how eager you seem to be to get my shirt off properly.”

She rolled her eyes and then focused on the road as she pulled out of the parking lot. “If you can flirt, you’re in no immediate danger.”

It was significantly late by the time they reached the cabin. Ari’s condition seemed no worse than before, but Nikita wasn’t about to take any chances.

He let them inside and she deposited her duffle and the additional bags of supplies and non-perishable food on the kitchen table before searching for the first aid kit.

Wordlessly, she guided her companion into the bathroom and took the liberty of unbuttoning the flannel.

He pulled his arms free with a wince.

She was unable to resist ogling his uncovered torso, her eyes roaming over a broad, beautifully muscled chest and abdomen. He was slender but toned perfectly for his build, and the only flaws she noticed were a few littered scars. She wondered if there were any special stories behind them, but shifted her focus to the task at hand and removed the tourniquet as gently as she could.

He hissed in pain when she doused the exposed cut with peroxide. She went about cleaning efficiently, utilizing tweezers to pull away small bits of fabric that had gotten stuck. “I’m sorry, I’m going as quick as I can.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

She completed the cleaning portion and grabbed antibacterial ointment. “I never thanked you for earlier. I’m sorry about that too.” She placed a fresh gauze bandage over the wound and taped it in place.

He cupped her chin tenderly. “Nikita, you don’t have to apologize.”

At this point, she loved the way that he said her name: with allure and deep meaning all at once.

For the second time since this whole thing started, she found herself kissing him. Like before, it was tentative – a way to search her heart and the bubbling emotions that he instilled.

With a remarkably quick motion, he trapped her against the wall directly behind them and deepened the embrace.

He teased at the shape of her mouth beseechingly until she opened for him and allowed that clever tongue to explore.

Giving in was easy when he was pressed close enough for her to feel the effect that she had over him, her hips bucking in natural response. She felt him smirk knowingly and gasped into the kiss when he hiked her leg over his waist, ensuring that they were touching as much as possible despite still being mostly clothed.

In retaliation, she dragged her nails through the hair that dusted the expanse of his chest, delighting in the heat of his skin and the low, incredibly sensual-sounding growl that emerged from him.

His mouth eventually strayed and gained purchase on her throat, trailing down further and further, nibbling purposely at the cleavage revealed by the low cut of her tee shirt.

At the same time, one hand skimmed under the hem, tracing a light circle over her taught abdomen, and eventually working its way up until he reached the base of her bra.

This was where he paused, pulling back to study her reaction.

Her heart cartwheeled at seeing the devotion in those gorgeous blue eyes. “Why’d you stop?”

“I just needed to be sure that this was what you wanted,” he admitted, a slightly bashful expression crossing his handsome face that felt somewhat at odds with his disheveled appearance.

“Well…I mean, we are supposed to be resting,” she looped her fingers into the beltloops of his jeans and gave a gentle tug so that he was back in her arms, which she wrapped around his torso.

There was a wry chuckle, and then he touched their foreheads together. “I suppose we could argue that it was my way of ensuring that you actually made it into the bed?”

“We could, though the second I hit those pillows all bets are off as to whether or not I’ll stay conscious.”

“You’re tired,” he observed, ducking a kiss to her cheek in understanding. “It’s all right. I’m exhausted too and the last thing I want is either of us passing out on each other.”

A peal of genuine laughter escaped her at the mental image. “You’re right, that would be awful.”

He stole another kiss, emphasizing that they would definitely continue what they had started when the time was right.

She curled into him, reluctant to let go but knowing that they were making the right decision given the circumstances.

“I’ll go get changed and make sure we have enough blankets,” he parted from her, but squeezed her hand gently before doing so.

She watched him walk off, admiring the sway of his hips for a moment, and then moved out into the kitchen to put some things away before she got ready to turn in herself.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Nikita murmured once she was in her nightgown, fluffing out her hair and smoothing over the silk fabric. She had completely forgotten that she had picked something so feminine until she put it on, and now her heart was thundering at what Ari’s reaction was going to be.

Timidly, she emerged from the bathroom, her long hair loose around her shoulders and her face fresh and clean of makeup.

She padded on bare feet to the bedroom, her pulse pounding with each step, until she finally opened the door.

The bed looked very warm and inviting; but it paled in comparison to the sight of her companion already situated against the pillows, reading a novel and still shirtless.

Ari peeked over the edge of the book, and she held her breath in anticipation.

She had never seen someone move that fast before. She was in his arms in the space of a heartbeat, lost immediately to his taste and touch, goosebumps erupting across her flesh when her night dress hit the floor.

“You’re very naked,” she mumbled while he guided her towards the bed. “I’m not mad about it.”

“I might have anticipated that you would change your mind,” he darted kisses along her neck and then reclined her onto the blankets.

She moaned when his tongue laved at the hollow of her throat. “We’re definitely not getting any sleep, are we?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“I can live with that,” her breath hitched when he slipped off her underwear, effectively removing the final barrier between them.

If someone had told her only weeks ago that she would not only find herself on the run with Ari Tasarov, but would willingly take him to bed, Nikita would have laughed in their face.

Now that she had him: she wasn’t about to let go so easily.

He rapidly proved that the feeling was very much mutual.

She pulled him to her while limbs entangled, unhurried kisses were exchanged, and hands took to task.

Talented fingers ghosted over the curve of her hip, their fleeting touch prompting a pleased sound and making her body arc into his.

His mouth drifted from hers to place gentle kisses along her shoulders, coasting lower and lower until he finally lay claim to her breasts and snuck one hand between her legs.

Intoxicating heat gathered at her core, arousal clouding her senses as she became lost to sensation.

Her experiences with seduction had typically been brief and to the point – a way to disarm a target.

This, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.

There was nothing to rush or distract Ari from being masterful in his art, culminating in her world shattering from the pleasure of it.

She lay there, boneless and trembling, one hand shakily running through his hair while he nuzzled affectionately at the crook in her neck until she calmed down.

“You all right?” his face loomed into her vision, the ocean-colored depths of his eyes catching her dark ones.

“I’m wonderful…though curious over how you managed to be so good at that.”

A rich, warm laugh was his answer, and he nudged her nose with his. “Uh-oh. I might have my work cut out for me.”

Nikita quirked a brow and slid a leg against his. “That may be, but first,” she twisted and toppled him under her, delighting in the surprised expression her action caused. “I have you right where I want you, and it’s my turn.”

He hissed softly when she straddled him and began to duck kisses to his chest, grumbling something in Russian that made her look up at him with a smirk, and then continue without preamble.

“You were wrong earlier,” Ari struggled to regain his composure after the onslaught of Nikita’s passions had slowed down.

“About what?” she ran her hands lazily over his chest, watching the steady rise and fall of his breathing pattern.

“You’re not the one who’s going to pass out from exhaustion.” He arched one eyebrow and gave her a significant look. “You’ll have to be gentler.”

She winced slightly and grazed her lips over his collarbone. “Sorry. Do you want to pick this back up later? I’m okay with sleeping and cuddling.”

“I think I just need a little more time to recuperate,” he confessed, pulling her close so they could snuggle under the blankets properly.

She complied with a happy sigh, continuing to intermittently shower his chest and neck with light, feathery kisses and drawing invisible figures along his torso. “Truth be told, I think I needed this.”

His laughter puffed at her hair. “I think we both did.”

“It’s not easy, you know? This life. Constantly looking over your shoulder and uncertain of who to trust,” she nuzzled at his throat. “You forget how to feel after a while.”

“You’re right. It isn’t easy,” he shifted so they were facing one another, his expression serious. “That’s why I knew that I had to leave Gogol and cling to what humanity I have left.”

Her heart clenched in pity, and she leaned forward to kiss him softly. “I understand completely.”

“I know you do,” his words were muffled against her lips, In a graceful motion, he turned to pin her under his welcome weight. “And I think I’ve regained enough energy.”

She locked her legs around his waist, arching her hips in invitation. “Then don’t waste any more time.”

He didn’t.

With a fluid thrust, they were joined together.

She grasped at his back, crying out at the overwhelming feeling that being one caused after a gradual build up.

He was still at first, allowing them both to adjust to such intimacy, and then he slowly began to move.

Nikita let out a shaky breath, her fingers inching down his spine while she met his motions with her own and symmetry was gained.

He kissed her, soft and sweet, and murmured something in his native tongue before adjusting his angle and burying deeper.

Her head fell back, and the entire room seemed to spin. This felt beyond right, or natural, or any other platitude she could have come up with.

Ari felt like home.

They continued their dance, entwined together in a tangle, sweat-slick skin causing oh-so-perfect friction.

And when they finally careened over that proverbial edge – it was as one.

Nikita was uncertain of how much time had passed by the time she woke.

She stretched, lazy and cat-like, not willing to rise just yet, flinging one arm out to Ari’s side of the bed.

When she came in contact not with his warm skin but a cooling space where he had slept, her eyes finally flew open in alarm.

“Ari?” she sat up abruptly, gathering the sheets to her chest.

It took her another moment, but then she heard the sound of the shower running.

Relieved: she pulled the sheets with her as she got out of the bed and made her way over to the bathroom.

There was still a pleasant numbness from the previous night’s proclivities, as Ari had proven a thorough and giving lover and she’d lost track of just how many times they made love before succumbing to slumber.

With a fond smile, she pushed the door open and dropped the sheet on the floor, wasting zero time in joining him under the soothing hot spray of water.

She snaked her arms around his waist from behind and pressed a kiss in greeting to his left shoulder blade.

He glanced back at her. “You finally returned to the land of the living I see.”

“Stop,” she laughed against his skin. “How long was I out?”

“…it’s roughly one P.M…”

Her eyes went wide. “What?!”

He was quick to turn around and hold her. “You looked so peaceful, my love. It would have pained me to wake you.”

Her embarrassment at having slept so long dissipated when she was distracted by how attractive he looked with water dripping over his well-built frame.

“Well, I’m fully awake now.” She slipped her arms around his neck, pressing their nude forms together. “Not to mention starving.”

“I can make us something,” he reached to turn off the water, but she stopped him, shaking her head and touching her lips to his.

“Not for food.”

He raised a brow but didn’t hesitate to capture her mouth with his.

It would be a little while longer before they exited the bath.

Nikita was certain that Ari had put some kind of adrenaline booster into the food she was currently devouring. Not only was it absolutely delicious, but she felt a gradual buzz of energy building within her.

“Okay,” she set down the fork and eyed her partner suspiciously. “There’s got to be some kind of special ingredient in here.”

He merely rested his chin against his hand and grinned. “Not telling. My recipe. My secret.”

“Well, that settles it: you’re incorrigible,” she settled back into the chair. “Absolutely determined to drive me crazy.”

He laughed sharply. “You’re already quite aware of that, darling.”

“Don’t start.” She looked away from him to the maps and documents scattered across a nearby coffee table. “When did you start plotting our next move?”

“While you were still asleep. I took a walk, and then began going through some things.” He rose, gathering their empty plates so he could clean them.

She moved to inspect all the work he had done while he did the dishes and was engrossed in a specific map by the time he returned to her side with a much-appreciated cup of coffee.

“Here,” he sat next to her, one arm draping over her shoulder so he could take a look at what she was so enthralled by. “Ah. Yes, the intel suggested one of the boxes is there.”

She accepted the drink, taking a sip and then settling back more comfortably against him. “It feels so surreal. When we first met you suggested that we work together to find them and now, here we are; and I’m sorely tempted to just throw all of those into the fire and run off to some island somewhere instead.”

He set his mug down and shifted so he could embrace her. “Not the worst idea. That being said: is it really what you want?”

Nikita groaned, unsure, and put her own cup aside so she could turn and curl up in his arms. “Right now? I just want you.”

He brushed his lips along her temple. “Besides that, Nikita.”

“Is it so wrong to want a home? A normal life?”

“Of course not, but I’ve been watching you for some time now.”

“That’s called stalking.”

“Where I come from it’s called surveillance. And that’s not the point I’m trying to make here, what I’m trying to say is: I’ve seen what drives you. It’s helping others and making an actual difference. You won’t be satisfied until Division is taken down. And I won’t be satisfied until you are. We’re in this together now,” he tucked a stray lock of hair over her ear, looking deeply into her eyes.

She searched his gaze; her heart flipping at the sincerity and love apparent there. “You know…when you first showed up at the loft, I thought things were going to go very differently. And then: you saved me. And I never asked why.”

He stroked along her arms. “I saved you because I’m in love with you. That’s it. Plain and simple. I just never thought you’d accept that.”

“It’s more than accepting it,” she cradled his face between her hands. “I’m in love with you too.”

His reply to her confession was to kiss her so ardently that they toppled backwards on the couch.

It was not long before they were irrevocably lost in one another, but what mattered the most was that there was a future – and they were going to face it together.

The End

#ari x nikita #nikari #mine #mrsreginagold #peter outerbridge #again posting in his tag for those interested #nikita 2010 #fanfiction #ari tasarov x nikita mears #otp: enemy mine #otp: this is the life we've chosen

5 notes · View notes

vinca-majors · 8 days

Note

hello lovely :) for the fanfic ask game: A, G [there’s a science to walking through windows without you], L, and W! hope youre having an excellent Saturday <3

thanks friend and back atcha!! it's been a nice chill day over here - finally got the sleep i've been needing for four weeks, the sun is shining, i cleaned up the place, there's a window open in every room :) and after this i'll pick up ballad of songbirds etc - i just got to the start of the games.

A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

probably reprise - i still remember the excitement of starting it and feeling out what it might be. i loved being in hero's head, i enjoyed refashioning canon into something new but recognizable, the language came together the way i wanted it to, and it's the happy ending i would choose for them over any other.

G: If you wrote a sequel to [there's a science], what would it be about?

very little conflict - i think the main source of conflict between them in the og is that they're always trying to tell each other the truth but never say it in a way that the other hears correctly. so now they're on the same page, and he finally has her and he's not stupid enough to jeopardize it with his pomp and circumstance. it would probably begin with both of them in a bit of shock - they didn't see this coming and are completely rerouting from where they thought they were going, and they have to figure out how to be together - but they're ridiculously happy. they fall in love quickly and intensely and without much fanfare - they're not shouting it from the rooftops but anyone who looks at them can see it. they figure out how to do life together. eliza gets a job and it's not a good fit. higgins wants a career change but is uncertain about leaving a tenured position. they don't always know how to help each other get what they want. they say the wrong things. they work hard, together, to learn how to communicate. one night he gives her a ring. they consider eloping but decide to have a huge party instead, and it's joy-packed. she drags him to new restaurants and he grumbles about unknown foods but always ends up liking them. they learn together how to cook and get so into it that they start reading cookbooks in bed. they get a dog. they have a miscarriage - they grieve differently, he isolates himself, she buries herself in her work. they move to the opposite side of the country. pickering gets cancer - it's bad, takes him fast - they grieve together this time. it's about two selfish people learning that love is selfless and discovering the joy of giving and receiving that love, and about the importance of keeping themselves vulnerable when they want to close up and hide, and figuring out how to consistently give themselves to each other while still being able to grow and change individually.

L: Which of your fanfics was the most emotionally challenging to write?

after the storm was like a constant state of soul excoriation. we only have each other was my take on elsa's uncontrolled emotions, and the resolution to the major conflict drew from personal experience, so needless to say writing it was a rollercoaster.

W: What is your favorite pairing to write? Favorite pairing to read?

when actually writing: eliza/higgins are probably the most fun to hang with. for both: i'm pretty much always here for snark/sunshine, whoever that may be. severus/hermione is one of my go-tos d/t the trope and it's popular enough that there's usually always something new to read. my WIP folder is positively bursting with villain/sweetheart AUs, mostly in the form of hero/john ♡

#innocentlysmirking #tag games #fanfic

2 notes · View notes

thegeminisage · 21 days

Text

sigh ok star trek update time. wednesday we watched tng's "force of nature" and last night we watched ds9's "second sight" and tng's "inheritance."

force of nature (tng):

this one is so infamous i knew about it way before we watched it...as predicted, it made me mad

i've heard something about a lower decks episode retconning this? which just goes to show how little human beings want to like. work on a problem

like, the episode is about fossil fuels and climate change. we rely on fossil fuels but theyre damaging our environment to the point these people are willing to completely isolate themselves in space bc they have no other choice

and like, the point of the episode is that this lady has to essentially self-immolate to get any attention and everyone gets the runaround from the people in charge because no one wants to believe it will get that bad and no one wants to change...

...and then they just. didn't change. like nobody stopped using warp. nobody brought this up ever again. in fact, it got RETCONNED? so why write it at all in a series where you KNOW everything has to go back to the status quo...tng is even worse than merlin in this regard, why would they do this!!!

aside from that, i feel like they gave us a b plot or multiple b plots in the first half of the ep (training data's cat, geordi's rivalry with that other engineer) and then completely dropped and forgot about them?? the whole ting feels just so poorly thought out...

second sight (ds9):

MIXED FEELINGS. under one hand i've been absolutely DYING for more sisko content under the other girl what the fucj was that

the lady was sooo mysterious i was CERTAIN she was either evil or a ghost...what she actually was turned out to be closer to ghost ig but it was so out of the left field the ending didn't leave me feeling very satisfied. also, what a shit deal for fenna to be dying either way when all she wants to do is hang out and make out with sisko

sisko and jake scenes <3

i did like the bits with dax being like oh i get it you cant tell me about girls anymore because i AM one. does the time we fucked twins together mean nothing to you

the ending was really good also. i mean, i think the plot of this episode was kind of ???, but the guy playing sisko is a GREAT actor and his struggle over this ridiculous situation was so palpable you felt for him in spite of it.

the guy she was actually married to was SO ANNOYING but i thought him killing himself was stupid and i was also a little more annoyed everyone seemed so chill about letting him do it - like, there was quite literally no way they could have stopped him, but sisko seeing him off with a sad smile instead of getting angry wasn't really what i expected

THAT SAID, reigniting a star and going out with the words "let there be light!" is pretty fucking metal. like i don't even like him, but you HAVE to hand it to him. that was really REALLY good, especially considering it came from a character i would have happily murdered myself right up until the instant he said it

inheritance (tng):

mixed feelings...2!

first off, i can't help but feel mister terraformer who reignites stars from that ds9 ep would have been able to help here. he killed himself out of fucking vanity and now he's totally useless to people who need him. jesus.

secondly, what the FUCK

i love data episodes, but the last few data episodes have been rough ones. i like him being skeptical of his "mom" and them eventually getting to know one another better, and i DEFINITELY like the subplot of her secretly being a little racist towards androids

like, there's so much complexity in that. what if you were data and you were alone in the universe but you found out you had a mom but she fucking sucked? like, lore traumatized her so bad she wanted a metaphorical abortion and when her husband refused she wanted to leave that baby outside the fire station, if the fire station had a big crystalline entity trying to eat all the firefighters.

i think that would have been a FINE episode on its own. like, her learning about data's loneliness, his failed attempt at having children, his success as not only a starfleet officer but a person, in SPITE of her fears and his rough beginning, his difficulties in not knowing who he was and his accidental reactivation of lore born from that loneliness and separation from his parents which is HER FAULT...all of this is fine drama

why did they have to make her also secretly an android, is my problem. it's a STUPID plot twist, and one tos did to MUCH better effect. like, is that android chapel's long-dead fiance just because he thinks he is? does having a person's memories and personality make you them, or is the copy always going to be different no matter what? tos seemed to decide the answer was that you can't implant a human consciousness into an android and be left with no changes whatsoever. you can't ever truly cheat death - even spock didn't get out of it entirely.

and what REALLY grinds my gears is that now they know this woman is an android WITH A KILL TIMER SET IN HER BRAIN so she can "die of old age" instead of like, working on changing the timer and letting her be friends with data or even telling her and asking HER if she wants the knowledge of what she is wiped from her brain, they're like, well she would be happier being human! WHICH IS STILL RACIST AGAINST ANDROIDS. and data's like yeah damn i guess she would be it would be selfish of me not to let her keep believing she is one. guess we'll lie then. it's not like there's any danger of her finding out from a stranger someday or anything

absolutely nuts by the way that deanna voted lie and picard voted truth. normally picard is the one with the rancid takes but this time it really was deanna :/

there's also logistic concerns. why doesn't she glow like data in geordi's visor? how does she digest food? if she was that advanced why did dr soong not make more androids or at least go retrieve data? why did he let her divorce him without telling her what she really was? like, let's make an android but a WOMAN, which means she gets no agency whatsoever. nevermind her HUSBAND - like, if they fuck, i do feel like he has the right to know he's fucking an android? it sounds bad when i say it like that bc if she wanted to keep it a secret then its none of his business but it just feels so weird that he's married to a copy of a person and neither of them know it and he's only gonna find out after she dies and someone tries to do an autopsy on hr. like what the HELL

also lmao the aside about data aging. threw that in there just for fun did we

anyway, that was an episode with huge potential that missed the mark so fucking completely because they prioritized a dumb shitty plot twist over actual interpersonal shit and character development. SIGH.

TONIGHT: ds9's "sanctuary" and tng's "parallels."

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb #ds9 lb

6 notes · View notes