#i hope this tickles your fic writing brains i suppose

[dailymothanon]

He does not know where he is at all times when he is out of state, he constantly is hunched over at the table, squints at everything like an old man and he does not care about nudity <3 who want him

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

God ever since reading A Gilded Cage I cant get the thought out of my head of a part 2 where Reader doesn't see Jason for a few days after the revelation. Like maybe he thinks he's being kind and giving us some time to process, maybe he's on his angst again, or maybe some outside factor has taken his attention so the only time he's able to visit is while we're asleep.

And the whole night of the reveal feels like a fever dream when we wake up but there's a blanket draped over us and a fuzzy little kitten purring up a storm on our chest (in my heart his name is Bean (short for Toebean)), so we're at least kind of sure it happened. But as the time passes with no sign of Jason our certainty begins to wane and until we finally get fed up and write on the notepad the first thing we've asked for since that night: "You."

Or something like that idek okay I've been over here clawing at my walls frothing at the mouth I never really even liked ak!Jason before reading your stuff and now I'm feral for him and its all your fault and I'm not even mad about it

A Glimmering Collar

AKA Part Two of this series. Ahh, nonnie, you literally cooked with this. I love when my fics inspire people enough to keep thinking on them! Seriously, ty for dropping these ideas in my inbox cause I had nothing going on in my brain for a part two initially. Hope you enjoy!

~2.6k words

You wake up to something tickling your nose. Your body feels heavy, your mind even more so. Nothing in you is ready to open your eyes, to face the fact that last night could all have been a dream. That he isn't– that was just a dream.

Something soft flicks your nose again, and you force your eyes open. You blink hard once. Then twice. It's a kitten. It's tiny, and it's sitting by your face. Every few seconds, its tail sways and brushes your nose.

Oh. You sit up slowly, trying not to frighten the small thing. It looks at you contently over its shoulder and meows. The kitten stretches as you stare at it, then plops itself directly on the blanket resting over your lap.

Huh. There's a blanket you definitely don't remember grabbing sprawled over your legs. You carefully reach down to pet the kitten's head. Your heart melts a little when it nuzzles your fingers and purrs.

You look around the room slowly. Nothing else looks different. The notepad is still in place, but the kitten and blanket all point to one thing. Last night was real. Jason is alive. Jason is the Arkham Knight.

You're trying to wrap your brain around that when the door flies open, nearly making you jump out of your skin.

"Good morning!!" A flurry of voice call from the doorway. Your eyes widen as three brightly dressed people strut their way into your apartment, "Are you ready for your shopping trip, hun?"

"My– excuse me?" You stumble out, tucking the kitten to your chest as you stand.

They giggle, and one of them steps forward, "Your shopping trip, sweetie! And spa day, of course. Oh, ha, we haven't even been introduced, have we? I'm Krystal with a K, she's Destini with an i and he's Robbi also with an i."

Robbi huffs and walks up to you to pet your kitten, "Why can't you ever introduce Destini second? She can be Destini also with an i, ya know."

The other girl walks up to you as well and picks affectionately at your clothes, "Because it's alphabetical that way, Robbi. Now you better go get dressed, we have brunch reservations and mimosa plans!"

"I– sorry? What?" You ask, eyes darting between the three of them. Whatever this is, you can't keep up. You've barely processed Jason kidnapped you, and now you're supposed to go get a massage and drinks?

"The boss wants you to go out," a flat voice cuts in. You're the only one that stiffens at the sight of two large men stepping through the door.

Krystal speaks up, "We're here to make sure you have a good time! And Mack and John are here to keep us safe!"

"Mack and John," You echo weakly.

"Your body guards, silly," Destini chirps, ushering you to your room. She plucks the kitten from your hands, "Now get dressed! Wear something nice!"

You stare at the door as she shuts it. What just happened? You hear them chattering happily in the kitchen, idly talking about pregaming your shopping trip.

Your whole mind is a mess, and you sluggishly get ready, thoughts whirling. You've barely talked to soul since you were kidnapped, and now you have five new names to remember, a kitten, and a day out.

You're not exactly sure if you should be unsettled or grateful at how quickly Jason worked to get you what you asked for. By the time you've opened your bedroom door, Krystal, Destini and Robbi are passing around a flask, and playfully trying to get your 'bodyguards' to drink it.

You wonder what they must think of all this. Who they think you are. You're struck with the realization that Jason must be paying them to entertain you today.

You don't get to linger on the thought before Robbi hooked his arm with yours, dragging you towards the door, "Let's gooo, the brunch place we're going to does the best pineapple mimosas. Or cherry, if that's your thing."

"Wait," Mack– or John, you're not exactly sure which one is which– stops you, "Boss wants you to wear this."

The girls and Robbi coo in awe when Mack opens a box, revealing a glittery, jaw-dropping choker. You waver at the sight of it. It's not that it doesn't match what you're wearing. You'd dressed up like Destini suggested, but it feels like some kind of trap.

You reluctantly pick up the necklace, eyeing how it catches the light, "Is it– are sure it's safe to wear this out?" Safety isn't really what you're concerned about at the moment.

You're more worried about the crushing weight that this means more than you understand.

John nods once, "There won't be any problems."

Krystal happily plucks the necklace from your fingers, and before you have time to argue, she drapes the necklace around your throat. "It's beautiful, hun. Just like you. Let's go get you something to eat," her voice is soft, measured, and full of so much understanding it makes you want to cry.

You don't know much they know, but when she hooks her arm with yours to guide you out the door, you have a feeling there's more awareness than their bubbly attitudes let on.

The day ends up being wonderful. Being around people, out under the sun (the sun Gotham does get), was rejuvenating. You had fun, joked, smiled, and for a day, it was almost like you didn't have a prison cell to go back to.

The food was delicious, the spa relaxing, and you didn't have to carry back a single bag. Krystal had flashed a black card at every payment, every place ever could want to shop at, reassuring you it's all been taken care of.

But the time you've collapsed on the couch, exhausted but content, the uneasy feelings from this morning are gone.

You settle on the cushions to wait for Jason. To thank him for listening or to yell at him for still keeping you here, you're not exactly sure yet.

But he doesn't come, you fall asleep in your expensive necklace and pretty clothes with one hand petting your kitten. He doesn't come the next day either, at least not while you're awake, but Krystal, Destini, and Robbi do.

Your friends, the people being paid to entertain you are nice, perfect even. They're exactly what you would have asked for.

Your kitten is perfect too, it cuddles with you at night and nuzzles under your chin after you're left alone, when the unease finds its way back to you.

It's been days since you've seen him. It's starting to feel like a lifetime. You know he comes back after you fall asleep, he moves things. You think it's his way of showing that he listened, that he came back because you asked.

The notepad, the one you haven't written on since that night, shifts closer to you on the glass table if you sleep on the couch.

The glimmering choker gets pulled out of the drawer every time you try to put it away. Your kitten has a growing collection of toys and things to climb on.

It's obvious he's visiting, so why won't he let you see him? Day five of dancing around each other breaks you. You want to see him, want to talk to him, and understand. You want Jason.

Your hand shakes a little, when you go to write on the notepad, and when you wake up the next morning, the paper is blank again.

You wait. You wait some more. All day you wait for him. No one else comes. It's strangely quiet, with just you and your kitten. You've just about given up, collapsed in your bed, when the glowing whites of his helmet catch your attention.

You sit up quickly and throw your legs off the bed as you stare into the doorway, "You came."

"Did you mean it," he asks, any emotion he's feeling hidden by the aggravating modulator.

"Mean what," You question, standing off the bed to walk closer to him, "Will you take the mask off?"

He doesn't move for a moment, just takes in the sight of you. The silence that drags almost makes you regret the question, but he carefully pulls off his helmet, "What you wrote. That you wanted me."

"I– yeah, Jason. I haven't– it's been days since I saw you," You only notice mid sentence that his hand is reaching for your face, it makes your voice waver. "You never answered any of my questions," You finish weakly.

His hand stills and he drops it, "Questions. That's what you wanted?"

You nod a little, searching his face for any hint of what he's feeling, but he gives nothing away.

He sighs softly, and looks away, adjusting his helmet under his arm. You think he might look disappointed, "I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"Why not," You question softly, worried to push him away.

Jason turns his focus back to you, "I just need you to stay here. Please," he sighs out your name, and his hand twitches as if to touch you, "Don't fight me on this."

"That's not fair," You mumble, "Why am I here, Jason? You know I would have listened if you came to talk to me instead of– this."

Silence falls again, and he steps past you into your room. He sets his helmet on your dresser and picks up the choker resting on the wooden surface, "I wish you would wear this. I picked it out for you."

"Jason," You start, tracking his movements.

"I know," he cuts you off, "but I told you, you don't need to understand anything." You stiffen when he steps back towards you and guides you to turn around.

The air leaves your lungs as his gloves brush over your skin. He sets the necklace around your throat, and even after it rests heavy against your skin, his touch lingers.

"You just need to stay here. It's safe. I've given you everything you've asked for, and everything you haven't," Jason says softly, stepping out from behind you. His gaze lingers on your neck for a moment, and the stifling, unexplainable feeling sets back into your gut.

Your words stick in your throat. There's a sense of danger, one that doesn't make sense. Jason wouldn't hurt you. Not the Jason you know. But is this the Jason you know? The thought makes you want to tear the choker from your skin and throw it at him.

"It feels like a collar," You say quietly, and your breath hitches when his gaze snaps go yours, "I mean, it's pretty. Really. But, it feels– like it's more," You stumble out.

He nods slowly, and he doesn't stop himself from touching you this time. His fingers trace the choker, linger over your collarbones, brush along your pulse, "Maybe it is."

You blink at him, every thought flying from your brain, "What?"

He hums softly, hooking a finger under the shiny jewels to draw you closer, "Does that scare you? Knowing that you can't leave? Knowing that no matter how pretty these are, it's just another way to keep you?"

"You wouldn't hurt me," you say instead, it sounds like you believe it, but you're not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

"I don't want to," He admits, fingers leaving your throat to trail up your jaw, "but I probably could."

"I don't believe that. I remember–" He tuts, tapping your cheek. Your heart drops when you realize he's mirroring where his own brand is.

"I'm not what you remember," he says firmly, before whispering your name, "I'm not that Jason. Not really."

"Then who are you," You ask, even though you don't want to know the answer. You want to pretend he's still something you know.

His eyes dart over your face, then back down to the necklace, "I'm still Jason. But I'm also the Arkham Knight."

"What does that mean," You push, reach up to grab his wrist, demanding his attention, demanding real answers.

"It means that you stay. It means that I give you what you want. Everything and anything except leaving," he says, voice lowering to something kinder, gentler, "it'll make sense eventually. You'll be happy here. Safe."

"Will that make you happy?" You ask, fingers tightening on his wrist. Half of you wants to pull him away, stop him from tracing patterns over your cheek, but the other part of you wants to press his hand closer.

Something flicks in his eyes at your words, "Yes."

"Will it keep you safe?" You murmur, eyes locked on his.

He doesn't answer, clenching and unclenching his jaw for a moment, "Safety is an option I don't have."

"It could be, if you wanted it," You say, dropping his wrist. It must be true. Even with all the secrets he's keeping, his evasive disappearing act, he could take off the armor. Leave behind the new symbol engraved over his chest.

He laughs a little and swipes his thumb under your eye, "I'm glad that you don't understand. It's good, that they didn't twist you into something unrecognizable."

"Understand?" You prompt, unsettled by his laughter.

"That they need to pay. All of them do," he smiles a little, it's a mockery of the one you remember. Jason traces the choker one last time before stepping back.

"You're leaving," You say, not a question, a statement of fact. He's leaving, without explaining anything again.

"I am," he affirms, moving to grab his helmet.

"I want you to stay," You breathe out and he freezes in place.

He exhales softly and faces you again, "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do. I want you to stay," You repeat, reaching out to push his helmet back towards the dresser.

"And then what?" He asks lowly, a warning, "What do you expect to happen?"

It makes you waver, "I– I don't know. But it's what I want."

It's another long moment of nothing before he answers, gesturing towards the bed, "Go to sleep."

"You'll stay?"

He nods at your question, unceremoniously dragging the chair from your desk to your bedside.

"Is that going to be comfortable–" You begin, settling yourself in the bed.

"You're overthinking it," he mumbles, waving at you to lay down. You do, watching as your kitten jumps into his lap, curling up like this is something that happens all the time. (You have the feeling it is) "Have you named him," he asks quietly.

"The kitten? Mm, no. Wanted you to," You say softly, carefully not to unsettle either of them.

"I wouldn't be good at it," Jason protests, eyes flicking between you and the kitten.

"I don't mind," You murmur, "anything's better than 'kitten'."

He pauses, so quiet and still you think he won't answer, "Bean," he mumbles, reluctant as the newly appointed Bean cuddles into his armor.

You smile, "Bean's a good name."

He doesn't answer, seemingly engrossed with watching the kitten.

You take him in for another moment, memorizing his face before closing your eyes. It's not an accident that you leave your palm open and face up by the side of the bed.

There's no more pleasantries exchanged, no sweet goodnights or the gentle touches against your face you've grown used to. But just as you finally start to drift off, as darkness finally draws you to rest, a warm, rough hand weaves itself into yours and squeezes.

Part Three

[gaybananabread]

Could I get lee!dabi and ler!hawks for day 28? <3

TickleTober Day 28 - Spooked

~Ehehe my bois! These two will always be one of my favorite ships to write; it’s so fun with their dialogue! Been a hot sec, so I’m sticking to the character attributes I remember. Dabi’s got his black hair and patchwork chest, and Hawks has his wings. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Dabi

Ler: Hawks

Summary: Dabi decides to spook his boyfriend with a “harmless” prank. Hawks doesn’t appreciate his sense of humor, teaching the crispy-fried villain a lesson he won’t soon forget.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

“I’m home, Dabs!” Hawks bumped his hip against the janky door of the villain’s apartment, sighing as it stuck once again. He’d really have to get on his ass about moving in with him…

“Uh…why’s it so dark?” The winged hero felt like he was talking to himself as he looked around, fumbling for the light switch. It was in such a weird place; he could never find it, and that was with the lights on.

A thump sounded from Dabi’s room, making Hawks’s eyes narrow. That wasn’t normal…

Two feathers came off his wings, hovering beside him as he slowly approached the door. He was in full hero-mode, the familiar feeling of adrenaline creeping into his veins almost putting him at ease.

When he reached the door, he sent the feathers towards the thumping noise, only to find them…sticking out of the top of a Roomba. A very sad and confused little Roomba that kept bumping into the wall, hence the thumping.

“What the fu-”

“AAAUGH!”

Hawks let out his own scream at the deep-throated howl that came from behind him, whirling around to strike the offender. His wrist was easily caught, though instead of a bullet to the ribs or stab to the heart, he was met by the cheeky grin of his boyfriend.

“Ha! Holy fuckin’ shit, birdy! I didn’t think it’d get you that bad!” Dabi’s teeth were showing in an uncharacteristically gleeful smile, his eyes glowing with amusement. “Thought you hero types were supposed to be brave and all that.”

“You…” The blonde’s brain took a moment to catch up, the adrenaline in his system still addling his thoughts. Dabi had turned out the lights, set the Roomba, and… “You asshole! What if I’d stabbed you?!”

“But you didn’t. Actually, you stabbed the Roomba. Poor lil’ guy.” Dabi nudged the thing with his foot, watching as it shifted back and forth on the carpet. Hawks had definitely damaged it, but hadn’t completely broken it. It was just stuck in a sad little shuffle.

“I didn’t mean to- since when did you have a Roomba?” Hawks asked incredulously, looking around the apartment. The floor was kinda clean for once, save for the random shirt or sock here and there.

“Found it.” Dabi snickered at the look that earned him. “What, the guy was a dick! He was scammin’ people the whole morning.”

“Damn it, Dabi,” Hawks sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. No matter how terrible of a person the guy was, he shouldn’t have been stolen from. Unfortunately, the machine wasn’t exactly in peak condition anymore. “Can’t really return it now…”

“Oh no, so sad.” Dabi’s monotone snark really let Hawks know he regretted his actions. Not. “You should’ve seen your face, Keigo. Adorable~”

“Proud of yourself, are you?” Hawks’s voice dropped an octave, making Dabi’s grin falter slightly. Maybe he’d gone a little far, but…well, he really didn’t regret it. It was fun as hell to spook him.

“Yep. I always knew you were a chicken~”

Oho, that’s it, you shithead!

Hawks lunged at his boyfriend, making the man jump back. He landed on his bed, the bird quickly jumping down on top of him. After a quick tousle, the winged hero had him pinned, a dangerously playful glare on his face.

“Damn! You really are an adrenaline junkie, ain’t ya?” Dabi smirked up at him, puffing his chest out a bit. Even when he was stuck beneath someone, he managed to dominate the situation.

“Shut up.” The tone of his lover’s voice immediately shut him up, leaving the burnt boy blinking in surprise. Hawks shifted, forcing the man’s arms above his head. “You like laughing at me so much? Try laughing at yourself.”

“H-hey, Keigo, wait a min- GRK!” Dabi jolted as the winged hero targeted his navel, immediately attacking the unburned area that he knew damn well was ticklish as hell. The man lasted a grand total of five seconds before he broke.

“FUHUHUCK YOUHUHUHU!” The villain thrashed and tugged on his arms, trying to get free of his boyfriend’s evil grip. He was really regretting wearing such a thin shirt…

“We could’ve just cuddled when I got home, but noooo. Someone had to be a little asshole and scare me.” Hawks didn’t stop the scolding as he tickled him, leaning in so the ravenette could hear him over his own laughter. “You brought this on yourself.”

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP!” His taunt stomach quivered as he laughed, sure to be sore later during training. He really didn’t have a good comeback for the man; he wasn’t wrong, but there was no way Dabi was gonna admit it.

“No thanks. You learn best when you’re forced to.”

A thought popped into Hawks’s mind, making him smirk. Teaching him was a good idea, actually. He lifted his hand from the man’s stomach, instead sending two feathers to trace along his collarbones. Dabi’s unruly laughter slowly died down to airy giggles at the tactic change, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m gonna ask you some questions, babe. Try not to get them wrong.” Hawks flexed his fingers menacingly before speaking again, the feathers never stopping their gentle teasing. “Is it okay to steal from someone, even if they’re being a dick?”

“I-ihihin the rihight cihircumstahance, yeheah.” Dabi answered with his honest opinion, knowing it would piss the bird boy off. He was digging his own grave, but he was doing it with style. At least, he felt like he was.

“Bzzzt! Wrong, jackass. The correct answer was ‘No, beautiful, it’s not.’” Hawks dug his fingers back in as he made the buzzer noise, giving Dabi’s navel a good knead.

“C-COHOHOCKY BAHASTAHARD!” Dabi arched his back off the bed, though he was quickly pushed back down by Hawks’s elbow. He really wasn’t playing around…

After a nice two-minute penalty, Hawks tried asking a different question. “Let’s try this one. Is it okay to scare the living daylights out of our boyfriends who take down bad guys for a living?”

Dabi bit his lip as he giggled, panting slightly. It would be in his best interest to answer wisely, but… Well, Hawks didn’t lose control often. He wanted to see what would happen if he pushed that little bit too far.

“Hehell yeah. Ehespecially whehen thehey’re adohohorable lihittle chihicken- GYAAAAHAHAHA!”

The smug retort was cut off by a loud and ridiculous sound. Hawks blew a raspberry – a fucking raspberry – on his navel, nearly sending the burnt man into silent laughter. Curse his damn sensitivity!

Just to really make sure the lesson made it through his boyfriend’s thick head, Hawks blew a few more little ones across his stomach. By the time he was done, the unburned crests of Dabi’s cheeks were practically glowing with a blush, his eyes half-lidded. Hawks thought it was beautiful, taking a mental snapshot.

“One more chance.” The feathers resumed their tracing, swooping across the spent man’s collarbones once again. The sleepy giggles nearly made Hawks melt, but he held strong. “Was it a good idea to scare me like that, especially when you had to steal to do it?”

“N-nohohoho…” Dabi’s resolve had been thoroughly broken, his weary body lying still as the feather grazed across his skin. It was actually sort of relaxing, the soft compared to the rough.

“There ya go. Good job,” Hawks cooed, petting his exhausted boyfriend’s head as he settled down. If he were fully awake, Dabi would no doubt be taking his revenge; he wasn’t, though, his clingy side showing with the grogginess.

Dabi wrapped his arms loosely around Hawks as the man lied down, nuzzling his face into his soft hair. It smelled faintly of his vanilla shampoo, though he was much too tired to tease him about the scent. Instead, he sighed and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of his lover seep into his bones. A moment later, he felt Hawks’s wings extend, draping over them like a weighted blanket. So tired…

“Love you, KFC…”

“Love you too, you burnt chicken nuggie.”

[cookiegirlsstuff]

Can i request a ler! Jungkook x lee!reader fic where they're playfighting and the reader attempts to tickle Jungkook but since he's stronger he doesn't let that happen and tickle her instead please? :)

Fighting!

Ler: Jungkook

Lee: Reader

⋆꙳^̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

It was another one of those days when you and Jungkook just lay lazily on the sofa and enjoyed each other's company.

Everything was calm and peaceful until Jungkook decided to tease you a little.

He poked you in the side, but every time you turned round to face him, he acted as if nothing had happened.

"Jungkook, what are you doing?" you asked, slightly annoyed. You secretly enjoyed the attention, but of course you wouldn't admit it.

"Nothing! What am I supposed to have done?" he asked with a smirk.

You decided to simply ignore the annoying boy, but that was easier thought than done.

After a while you got tired of it and the next time he poked you, you quickly leaned over him and started tickling his stomach.

Jungkook started to laugh and his bunny smile appeared, but of course he was still stronger than you and oh…how the tables turned.

With ease, Jungkook had flipped you over and was now sitting on your hips.

"Did you really just want to mess with me?" he asked playfully, wiggling his fingers in a threatening manner.

"I'm sorry Jungkook, but we can talk about it," you said while giggling in anticipation.

"Or not," Jungkook said coldly and began to tickle your sides mercylessly.

You didn't even try to hold back your laughter and just squirmed back and forth, hoping to escape the tickling fingers. But of course you didn't make it.

"KOOKIE STAHAHAP PLEASE!", you shrieked. Not that it helped any.

"Stop? Why would I stop? You're clearly loving this, just look at that smile!" the mean ler just smiled.

Jungkook wasn't satisfied yet and so he started to tickle your hips. Probably your worst spot and your laughter became a few octaves higher and brighter.

"Jungkook! I CAHAHAN'T", you screamed laughing.

"Wow. This must really suck for you..." the bunny noticed and laughed with you.

After a few more minutes of pure torture, Jungkook stopped and you both cuddled up happily on the sofa.

"You're so cute Y/N," was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep exhausted in Jungkook's arms.

Thanks for your request I had so much fun to write it and I hope you like it. And sorry if it's too short or there are other mistakes in it. Here where I live it's almost 3 AM and my brain is not braining but I can't sleep and I really wanted to write this so here it is. I hope it's acceptable ✌😉

[popesgirlfriend]

A/N: I had posted this before so if it looks familiar that's why! I had posted it and then read it over so many times I hated it but I've decided I like it again lol also I am incapable of writing full fics so here have this instead

Pope doesn’t know how he got here. The constant fear and excitement he felt while chasing the gold and the cross feels far away here on this deserted island with his best friends. Well, his best friends and you. Sarah had asked you for help trying to decipher one of the clues and you stuck around, getting into danger with them every day. Now, you’re stuck on an island with them but Pope can’t bring himself to regret it. You look beautiful out there in the water, splashing with Kie, Sarah, and Cleo. God, even that. He remembers when all he had was JJ and John B. Now, his little group isn’t so little anymore. He hated it at first, but this too is something he can’t bring himself to regret. 

He watches you longer than he probably should. He hasn’t told you how he feels yet and after the disaster with Kie, he doesn’t think he’s ready to. He hopes you stick around long enough for him to tell you. He watches you throw your head back as you laugh and he can feel his own lips twitch up in response. You’re so beautiful. You take off running through the water after Cleo and he watches you tackle her into the waves. He laughs then, he can’t help it. He hears JJ let out a loud woop! from where he’s sitting on the sand further down the beach building…something. He’s too busy trying to figure out the contraption in JJ’s hands to notice you walking up to him. He feels the water droplets on his legs before he actually sees you. He turns his head to look up at you, smiling at him, with saltwater dripping off of every inch of you. Your black tank top is plastered to your skin and your shorts are so heavy with water that they’re sitting low–too low– on your hips so there is a band of exposed skin under your belly button. He’s transfixed. 

“Pope, what are you doing over here by yourself?” you ask, snapping his attention back to your face. You’re pouting at him, pushing out your bottom lip like a little kid. You look adorable. 

“I didn’t want to ruin your fun,” he says, “you and the girls seemed to be enjoying trying to drown each other.” 

You laugh and crouch down in front of him so that you’re at eye level with him. He pretends to angrily wipe the spray of water that came with the movement. You laugh even harder and Pope forgets what he was supposed to be doing. 

“Oh, you don’t want to get wet? Is that it? Well too bad!” You lunge at him. One minute he’s sitting in the sand staring at the lines of your smile, the next he’s sprawled on his back with a wet and squirming you on top of him. His brain promptly shuts down. 

He can hear you laughing and feel his t-shirt dampening but all his brain can focus on is how close you are. Your head is tucked into the crook of his neck and he can feel your wet hair sticking to the skin of his cheek. Your long legs are tangled with his and your arms are wrapped around his torso. He’s engulfed and he honestly doesn’t want to be anywhere else, wet clothes be damned. His brain comes back online when he feels you trying to pull away. In a panic, he flips your positions so he’s on top and your back is pressed into the sand. To save himself a little, he reaches down with one hand to tickle your side. Your laugh bursts out of you like he punched it out and you buck up into his chest to try and get away from his hand. 

“Okay! I give! Mercy, Pope, please,” you shriek. He relents but doesn’t move. He’s still hovering over you, close enough to feel your breath on his face. He should move. He should but… he leans down to press his lips to yours instead. You reciprocate immediately, pushing your lips against his as hard as you can. You bring your hands up to cup his face and now he’s truly surrounded by you. 

Kissing you is the only thing he can focus on. The sounds of the waves and the other pogues filter out into white noise. The grainy feel of the sand stuck to his legs is gone, replaced by the softness of your skin against his. He could spend hours just like this. So he does.

[chryblossomjjk]

bts fic recommendations | 01.31.23

→ hi friends! this is a little segment i do every tuesday (reviewsday get it, aren’t i funny, pls tell me how funny i am) where i read and review two-three fics. as a content creator, i know how big of a role other creators play in your growth, therefore, i want to do my part in making sure everyone gets the recognition they deserve! so with that being said, please check out the amazing fics listed below. make sure to like, reblog, and leave feedback! ♡ #reviewsday #kikirecs

busted (pt 1 + pt 2) - @btsgotjams27 (jjk x reader | married au, parents au, smut)

summary: your husband comes home with a new gift and you’re not happy with it.

oh.... this is wholesome

im usually partial to girl dad koo but i've been looking at his bby pictures lately and he was so cute ugh :'( picturing two lil kooks is killing me (also i see where u got the inspo teehee v cute jess)

also he's such a lil shit pls like he knows what he's doing being such a slut and avoiding the conversation !!! we love him for it !!!

this is my fav style of writing by the way. like when the reader is just dropped into a slice of the character's lives and you figure them out based on the context clues. like the fact that kook's mom died is such a small detail here but it adds so much to the world. you did so well with seamlessly dropping tidbits and making it natural, not an easy thing to do!!! but you did it so so so well in this!!

him licking his fingers clean after wearing her pussy like a ring had me

dad jk putting it the fuck downnnnnn on that bathroom counter SHEESH IM SWEATING!!! also the baby interrupting right before the nut is peak wholesome content lmao!! and the way you incorporated the title TWICE PLS A GENIUS AND THIS WAS SO INCREDIBLY HOT and i would love to see more of this lil family :') &lt;3

i want to be with you - @oddinary4bts (pjm x reader | idol au, s2l, f2l, fluff, slight angst, smut)

summary: moving to seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is park jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. will the reality of park jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

first of all this is just what i needed um what is fanfic if not a vehicle to live out your daydreams anywho... something about moving to a big city and finding love is so fairytale-ish and magical and uGh. the more of these i do the more im starting to think we're all the same bc I RELATE SOME MUCH TO OC GTFO!! and that introduction made me so attached to her because there almost this childlike nature about her?? maybe childlike is the wrong wording but she has so much excitement and ambition, looks to the future with so much hope despite everything that she's been through. yeah. love her dearly will protect at all costs. and the way you contrasted this intro with the intro to the present day to show how now its not a daydream anymore n shes actually dealing w the reality of starting n moving somewhere new *chefs kiss*

"Sometimes, you wondered if faith existed. If there was a bigger plan to the universe, something written for you already that you couldn’t really escape from. It was the thought that crossed your mind as the doors finished moving, and a dark-haired boy – man – stared at you as you just stood there, mouth falling open."

god if theres one thing my communications major literature minor loves its this !!!! foreshadowing !!! like idk this paragraph just tickled my brain in the right way. it really is so beautiful. one of those that you look back on on a second read and smile because it means so much more and aged even better. truly stellar writing.

ALSO BRO THIS OC IS LEGIT MEEEE LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE OUT MY CLUELESS Y/N WHO HAS NO IDEA WHO BTS IS AND IS MYSTERIOUS AND NON-INTERESTED WHEN I HAVE A WHOLE TATTOO DEDICATED TO PARK JIMIN LMAO THE CHIMMY KEYCHAIN TOOK ME OUT BYE!!

"You expected his features to have that same disgusted scowl he always reserved for you, but his brows fell, as if he was ashamed, or perhaps sad."

"It was so human you found you had to look away."

and then just the pull towards eachother like this connection was legit fated was so fucking good. them taking care of eachother when they're drunk. hangover fucking soup :'). and then after everything with collin and jimin's spiraling they really needed eachother. like the stars aligned to set this pair up and its so comforting to read. BUT LIKE THE SLOWBURN MADE IT FEEL SO SO EARNED. AND THE WAY YOU ENDED IT WITH THE TITLE I COULD FUCKING SCREAM!!! so so so good. thank you for taking the time to write and share this masterpiece on the platform, you've made it sm better with this beautiful addition :') friends do not walk, RUN to read this.

[sapphire-drawings]

Hi! I sent an ask about this before, and I just want to desend another one in case Tumblr fuckin ate it before, which it has a tendency to do because tumblr has a rage boner against me. I wanted to ask if you'd be open to fics of your ideas! Specifically, your Don't Starve Beauty and the Beast au (though your other aus definitetly tickle the brain)? If this depends more on the person and what they want to do with your ideas, just say so and I'll come off anon to talk about that! I'm only on anon right now because I'm chicken shit and this is the only way I have the confidence to do this.

I hope you have a great day, and in no way feel pressured to say yes to this request! Your ideas are fucking god tier and I would love to use them in a fic for Don't Starve, but I am a firm believer in credit and permission, so answer however you want! You're an amazing author and storyteller, and I really hope life treats you well!

open to fics???????

ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY!!!!!!

I wanna know what my ideas spark on other people's minds. Write or draw or do whatever you want with my Aus and such and tag me so I can consume as well~

I wish I could give the whole story line for the Beauty and the Beast thing but I can't cuz I've no idea where I'm going with it. I scheduled something kind of redrawing some scenes but I still have to think how to describe what is supposed to happen in each. It's just sooooo.... NOT Disney's beauty and the beast (wich I think gives it a little charm) I DON'T EVEN HAVE A GASTON!! It's just Maxwell and Wilson bonding I think. Still have to figure out Jack and Abby...

[trashyswitch]

Hello! I was wondering, do you have any tips for writing tickle fics? I've had ideas for some but I've never written one before and I'm overall fairly new to writing

Hmmmm…I thought long and hard about this question last night…and I am still struggling to answer.

Honestly…I’d say the following:

1: if you come up with an idea that makes you really happy, regardless of how stupid you logically believe it is, don’t let that stop you from writing it. A lot of opportunities would get missed if everyone always believed the inner critic inside us. So if you’re passionate about it, write it. I’m actually struggling with this myself. But your mind is your own worst critic.

2: Completely express yourself while you write. Find strategies that help you put your words on the paper. Here are some examples:

-make facial expressions in front of a mirror so you can best describe the facial expressions.

-listen to music based on the mood.

-imagine the scenario in your head before writing, and even go as far as to dress up as your character while imagining, or while writing.

3: Take the time to learn how your own brain works. If you have difficulty writing it, then use speech-to-text and edit it later. If you can’t focus while in your room, try writing in another room. Find out what opens up your brain and really exhilarates you.

4: Have a balance of writing with your emotional side and with your logical side. The emotional side allows the situation to really speak to the audience, but the logical side helps turn that raw emotion into an easy-to-follow story.

(I find it very helpful to write the story based on how I feel. If I feel like shit that day, I’ll write some angst that day, and/or incorporate my feelings into the character. If I’m feeling happy, I’ll write some tooth-rotting fluff. If I’m feeling like risking it, I’ll write some heavier content. And if I want it to just be carefree, I write carefree content.)

Lastly, 5: Have some fun!! This is supposed to be a hobby, not school work.

I hope this helps you, and others with writing too. These are just the ideas that helped me, meaning not everyone will find these strategies as helpful as I do. So follow #3, and learn how your brain works.

[fluffomatic]

I'm curious about what happened in your dream!

Ahhh I'm glad ur curious! So I'm just gonna paste the story how I told my friend cause I don't feel like retyping it all. The only thing I changed was how I referred to them cause when I told her the dream they were still unnamed, undesigned characters. Hope you like a bit of a long read! Nothing too bad and I'm not going into a lot of detail but maybe one day I'll write a fic about it! Rest under the cut!

So basically, I had a dream with one of my antags warriors getting captured by Tanner and Anna. The warrior is a white-haired, expert magic user, so they secluded him in this white room, attached bracelets that weakened his magic abilities and removed his shoes, replacing them with "special boots". Sure, you can figure out what kinda boots they were, lol. I've been seeing others designing tickle shoes so I guess my brain decided it really liked it 🤣 So Ilkari didn't know what the shoes were at first and was demanding answers but he was ignored as the workers who changed his shoes left him in the room alone. He sat there waiting until suddenly the shoes slowly started filling with a liquid that made his feet more sensitive and shortly after the shoes flared to life. It started slow and very soft to let him know what exactly was happening. He was left a giggling silly mess. After a while of soft, gentle tickling, the boots get worse and worse until he's screaming with laughter. After enough time, Tanner shuts the boots off and joins Ilkari in the room. They take them off him and rub his feet to calm him down and starts to ask him questions about Lucifer. He quickly spills cause Tanner is actually nice to him, and he doesn't realize a leader could be nice. Embarrassingly, he realized he actually likes being tickled. Tanner gives him this belt thingy and sends him back to his old master. Tanner isn't gonna hold this guy prisoner, and he's too embarrassed to tell Lucifer what happened to him so they're fine. The belt is more like a corset that doesn't actually smoosh anything, lol. Basically, it's connected to this mannequin torso that Tanner has, and every time Ilkari is alone before bed, Tanner will tickle him via the mannequin. One day, Ilkari's friend, who is also a warrior, comes to visit right before the whole tickling thing is supposed to happen. His friend, Ulrich, looks like Thor but from the game God of War, but instead of red, long hair, it's shorter, and he's got a big beard. He's super tall and kind of stoic, but he has a soft spot for his friends. Big demon softy, basically. Ilkari tries to get Ulrich to leave but he won't and soon he's doubled over trying not to laugh. Ulrich is confused and he has no choice but to explain what happened, which was hard cause Tanner was going ham now so he was laughing like a maniac. Ulrich takes him back to Tanner's castle and they bring them both to their bedroom. They take the corset off of Ilkari and let's him rest as they and Ulrich sit and talk. After some time he realizes how much better Tanner is and they both decide to stay. And now they both get tickled by Tanner cause of course Tanner would try to tickle Ulrich too! They collect lees.

[inenochian]

Beautiful California Weather

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Say_It_In_Enochian/works

Say_It_In_Enochian - Written for a JackeDee fic prompt: “Restless”

Summary:

Dean can't put his finger on it but something about this day seems...wrong.

Notes:

Warning: Spoilers for Where All My Journeys End & Twist and Shout

This is one of two ficlets written for Jackie Dee’s art fic prompt, “Restless.”

When writing my Twist and Shout AU fic (in which I butterfly-effected Dean and Cas so that things turned out realistically but differently and ended HAPPILY), I mused over the idea that if something tragic, really really tragic, happened to someone in one universe, might their counterpart in another universe feel some ripple of that? When reading Twist and Shout and trying to map out the timeframe it seemed like “Cas died on a Thursday,” sometime in early to mid-March of 1981. Would an Alt Universe Dean and Cas even notice that day?

Ultimately I didn’t write it, since I didn’t want to put anything sci-fi-ish in something that was supposed to be a historical fiction AU, but for Jackie Dee’s challenge, I explored that idea. This ficlet would have taken place early in Chapter 49 of WAMJE but is not referenced in that story for the aforementioned reasons (except for a small hint by Cas in the final scene of Ch 49).

Because of the subject, it is angsty and references relationships and situations established in WAMJE, including Dean's panic attacks and therapy, but ends with comfort, and hope, and love! 

One last but VERY IMPORTANT note:

I loved Twist and Shout, not for its ending (it wrecked me), but for the beautiful, realistic story Gabriel and Standbyme depicted. My writing an AU of it - or “ficfic,” was never an attempt to “fix” that story. Yes, it's tragic, yet beautiful and true to the time. Writing my T&S AU started as a way to work through emotional stuff I was going through at the time. Thanks to gabriel and standbyme for bringing the era to life.

**********

Thursday March 12th 1981

Dean sat bolt upright in the bed with a gasp, instinctively reaching out to the man in the bed beside him.

Cas wasn’t there.

His eyes strained in the dark for a sign of him. Where is he? Where’s Cas? Where am I?

He pulled himself from the confusion of sleep, like trudging through heavy snow.

A sliver of light framed the window shade to the left allowing him to orient himself.

He was in his bed…In his room… His and Cas’s room…Cas’s side of the bed was cold.

Dean looked at the clock on the bedside table.

5:34

He groped in the near dark for the lamp beside him, almost toppling it. He turned the small knob flicking it on, shielding his eyes at first from the glare.

Cas’s clean laundry was still in the basket near the dresser where Dean set it last night after he’d folded it.

After Cas kissed him goodbye and went in for his shift.

That was seven hours ago. Another nine before Cas would be coming home.

Dean sat back against the headboard, hugging his knees close, resting his head on his arms. He blew out a heavy breath trying to shake the strange feeling - trying to clear the clinging fog from his brain.

It wasn’t right that Cas wasn’t here.

Dean rubbed his hands over his face. That was stupid. Of course Cas wasn’t here. He had a double shift. This was normal.

Perfectly normal.

He flicked off the light, rolling over onto his side and closing his eyes, but couldn’t shake the lingering anxiousness produced by whatever had awoken him.

On an impulse he grabbed Cas’s pillow, tossing his own to the floor as he pulled it beneath his head, hoping the subtle scent of the man would alleviate the weighty feeling of his absence.

He only remembered he’d changed the sheets the night before when he inhaled the nose-tickling fragrance of ocean breeze detergent where the soothing scent of Cas’s skin should be.

He closed his eyes anyway trying not to think about the time and how he needed sleep…. because once you start thinking about the time your mind won’t stop obsessing on it….. so he really needed to just make his mind blank…do some of that deep breathing shit Benny and Pamela always told him to do when his mind started racing out of control.

Inhale…..Exhale….

Inhale……..Exhale…….

Inhale………….Exhale……..

His back was cold where Cas’s body should be pressed up against him - warming him like his own personal furnace.

Fuck.

Dean opened his eyes.

5:47

He sat up and switched on the light again, hating the way it basked the room in its too-yellow glow, making everything it touched seem artificial too. When they built their house Dean would make sure there were lots of windows…lots of natural light.

And still, he couldn’t shake it…this feeling he couldn’t put his finger on that wouldn’t let him rest. A foreboding. He wondered if it had been a dream, but couldn’t for the life of him remember anything more than that moment of dread that had thrown him out of his sleep and now wouldn’t let him get back to it.

He needed Cas.

Like, needed him.

Like a fix…No…more like a life saving drug.

Dean needed to touch him. To know he was real.

Fucking ridiculous is what it was. Missing your lover when he’s at work is one thing. Pining after him like a toddler in need of a goddamn security blanket is something else.

He got up and did what Cas would make him do if it were one of his panic attacks, even though it was clear this wasn’t one of them. Not a typical one anyway. No racing heart. No gasping breaths, no lingering taste of metal in his mouth. Just a looming shadow… a chill at the nape of his neck.

Dean couldn’t explain it. Somehow that made it worse.

Still, he trudged down the narrow hall of their trailer to the kitchen and switched on the light. He popped some bread into the toaster oven and peeled a banana, eating the fruit while he waited for the toast to pop. His shift at the garage didn’t start for a few hours, so after finishing the toast Dean tried going back to bed.

The sunlight streamed more brightly now through the sides of the window shades. Dean lay back down under the covers and pulled the pillow half over his head to block it. He tried going back to sleep but the urge to keep checking the clock for the time was overwhelming.

It was too quiet here in the bed without Cas’s soft snores. Without the little sleepy hums he made when he shifted in Dean’s arms. Too cold without the warmth of their limbs tangling together.

How is it that they’d argued just two nights ago over which one of them was hogging the blankets? Over which one of them was taking up more than their fair space in the queen-sized bed?

How is it that Dean had complained and tried to roll Cas over to “his side” of some imaginary line down the center of the mattress? Had grabbed his pillow and spare blanket and ended up on the couch - when all he wanted at the moment was to be crowded by Cas’s overheated, sweaty, sleepy body? To feel the rise and fall that marked the cadence of his breath and know that he was real. That they were real.

This is crazy, Dean thought, the sudden heartache, almost a physical pain inside him.

Dean needed him. Now.

Needed to know he was safe.

Dean shook his head. What did that even mean? Of course he was safe. The hospital would have called if…

He fought the urge to grab the phone and call Cas in the middle of his shift.

Cas would want him to. Even if he couldn’t talk to Dean right away he’d want to know Dean needed him. He’d find a way to call him back, even if it meant sacrificing his break. Cas was like that. He was always looking out for Dean like that.

Dean hated that he needed it sometimes. He could usually just soldier on through it…but this feeling… this cold at the nape of his neck…the harrowing down his spine…

Dean looked at the clock.

6:01

Dean thought about the way they used to lay, clinging to each other against the threat of toppling onto the floor in the little twin-sized bed they shared in Cas’s old apartment. Thought about their sweat drenched bodies sliding against one another in the California night. Soft lips on hot skin...limbs tangled... never a care for personal space. He thought about how Cas’s legs seemed to always weave themselves around his so perfectly, no matter how humid the summer night, when they were young.

Dean tossed in the bed, switching sides, shifting up against the edge as if doing so could put himself back there, a balancing act - shifting Cas’s pillows behind him to pretend there was a body at his back. It wasn’t the same, and still the need to see him, to touch his face, to kiss his lips….

6:07

He got up and squeezed into the narrow shower stall of their bathroom, pressing himself against the back wall until the water temperature was right. If he hurried he could swing by the hospital before going to the garage. Bring Cas a thermos of coffee or something - just because.  

As much as they hated hiding their relationship, they weren’t in San Francisco anymore. Cas needed a chance to establish himself without having to deal with hateful bullshit and discrimination. For that matter, there was no doubt in Dean’s mind that his new boss at the garage would fire him if he knew Dean was playing doctor with Dr. Novak.

Would it be too obvious? Cas’s “roommate” bringing him coffee in the middle of his shift?

Nah.

He was being paranoid. Friends do nice things for each other all the time.

Dean made a fresh pot of coffee and poured most of it in his work thermos, adding in sugar and cream, just the way Cas liked it.

He quickly made a ham and cheese sandwich, wrapped it in foil, and put it in the metal Stanley lunchbox that he’d had since he worked in Sacramento at Bobby’s, along with another banana, a hostess fruit pie, and two cans of A&W. He placed the lunchbox and thermos in his backpack, grabbed his army surplus jacket from the hook by the door and headed out.

The hum of the 4 stroke engine of his motorcycle grounded him. Pamela was forever making jokes about it but it beat her badass Harley with its ape-hanger handlebars any day for sheer power, and for a moment, as he sped down the dirt driveway of their new property toward the main road, Dean felt like he was flying, leaving that shadow that had plagued his morning in the dust.

There was barely any traffic, when he got into town, early as it was for even the morning commute. Still, the noise of the engine garnered him a few frowns and disgruntled looks from people waiting for buses while he waited for the lights to turn.

7:09

Dean pulled into the grounds of Angels of Mercy Hospital. He parked the bike in the emergency room lot and made his way into the lobby. Cas was working in the ER today. He went to the main desk which was currently unoccupied except for the receptionist flipping through the latest copy of the Ladies Home Journal.

“Hey,” Dean said.

“Hello,” the woman smiled, closing the magazine and pushing it aside, her eyes alighting on Dean with an interested smile.

“I’m a friend of Castiel Novak. You don’t happen to know if he has a minute, do you? It’s not an emergency or anything,” Dean said, feeling foolish even saying that part given he’d just walked into the ER.  “I just have something for him.”

Just then a doctor in a white coat, stethoscope round his neck, popped into the registration area. “Wendy I just got a call that they’re flying in a patient from that accident on 97 and another ambulance is en route. Direct anyone with non-life-threatening conditions to the clinic on Broad Street okay?”

“Yes, Dr. Wallace. Oh! Would you happen to know where Dr. Novak is? This gentleman has something for him.”

The stupidly handsome doctor with the blue eyes and perfectly white smile regarded Dean, offering a handshake in greeting. “Inias Wallace. I’m Dr. Novak’s Attending Physician. How can I help you?”

Dean wasn’t expecting the jolt to the spine that ran through his limbs making him feel he might sprout claws from his fingertips, nor the way his eyes narrowed on Wallace like a sniper.

No.

No you can’t fucking help me. Where’s Cas?

“Dean Winchester,” he said with a squaring of shoulders and lift to his chin. He shook Wallace’s hand.  

“Oh, Dean! Cas mentioned you. You’re his roommate aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Dean said thickly, fighting the urge to tell this guy exactly who he was to Cas. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“He’s asleep in the on-call room at the moment. We had a pretty long night. Do you want me to wake him?”

“No!” Dean shook his head. He’d figured catching Cas in a free moment was a long shot, still, it was a disappointment to say the least, and making things worse… the way this guy spoke about Cas like he was his keeper.

“No, don’t wake him.”

A voice in his head told Dean he was being unreasonable. This guy was in charge of the Residents. He should be glad he was looking out for Cas.

Dean reached into his backpack, pulling out the thermos of coffee. “When he does wake up, can you give him this though? It’s just coffee. I was on my way to work so figured I’d stop by and bring him some.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Wallace said, taking the thermos.

“Yeah,” Dean said, slipping his hands in his pockets. He was stalling now, hoping Cas would pop through the door if he just waited a minute longer. “Okay…okay well, anyway…gotta go,” Dean nodded to them both finally, and turned to leave.

*****

Dean finished replacing the carburetor on a Ford Escort when he was called into the office. He checked his watch.

10:17

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, some guy called. I told him you were working. Said to tell you thanks for the coffee. I ain’t your answering service Winchester.”

“Yeah..No..I mean. Thanks for the message.”

“Hey, there’s a station wagon out in the lot waitin on brake pads and an inspection, and a Volkswagon with a leak in the cooling system. Get on it, pretty boy.”

Get on it.

Dean took a deep breath and reminded himself that he needed this job, at least for now, if he and Cas were ever gonna build a life for themselves here. He checked his watch again as if by some miracle it would tell him more than two minutes had passed by since the last time he checked. No dice.

3:41

“Winchester, inventory the shipment of the new parts we got in, then punch out.”

He took the clipboard from the shop manager and made his way to the back of the shop.

“Hey, Dean, why don’t you come out with me and Richie for a few drinks later,” one of the full-time mechanics offered.

“Yeah Dean, you can witness this loser hit on every chick with a pulse and strike out anyway!” Richie laughed.

“Shut up faggot! At least I ain’t afraid to approach a woman. You just stare at your feet and mumble if one of 'em tries to even talk to you.”

“Thanks, guys. After this I got somewhere to be,” Dean said, eyeing the inventory list.

“Is she hot?”

4:10

Cas should have been home twenty minutes ago. Dean turned on the tv and went to the window, but there was still no sign of Cas coming up the road.

Dean reprimanded himself. This wasn’t like him, hovering like this, but ever since this morning there’d been this itch under his skin that he couldn’t scratch.

He went to the sink to put away the dishes that had been left to dry in the rack the night before. One slipped from his hand smashing on the floor. Cas’s NYU mug.

Shit!

Dean bent over to pick up the shards before Freddie could come nosing around and injure a paw.

Fuck. It was the only thing Cas really had from his time in New York City. Now Dean had fucking broken it.

And where was Cas? Why wasn’t he here?

It was too quiet here without him. It was… empty.

Dean suddenly felt like he was being pulled under water, into a dark overwhelming gloom.

It had been nagging at him all day. This feeling like something was just behind him, something he was trying to outrun…he’d tried keeping busy all day just to keep ahead of it, knowing if he slowed down it would catch him…pull him under…. Ruin him.

5:01

Cas wasn’t coming home.

That’s crazy…he’s coming home…of course he’s….

The metallic taste filled his mouth.

Fuck!

Breathe through it…it’ll pass

Breathe….fuck!

Dean couldn’t breathe.

He looked around the living room of the trailer…he was alone…

I’m going to lose him.

He was only ever going to be alone…Cas was gone…he’d lost him somehow…

“Cas?”

Despair covered him like a shroud…heavy and crippling… malevolent…

He was going to die alone…

Maybe that was okay…at least the dying part

Then maybe he’d be with Cas…

What? No…Fuck!

Dean couldn’t breathe…

He needed air… this fucking yellow light on everything …Dean needed air…

He burst out the front door trying to suck in the fresh air but his chest was too tight…

Five things…find five things…

Dean stumbled toward the patch of trees…

The crunch of last year's leaves underfoot…rough bark on his palm…

Breathe…

Fuck! Don’t pass out here….fuck!

He sank down…back against the tree…pulling his knees up…head between his knees

Breathe Dean…fucking breathe…

The ground was cold and damp beneath him…

Cold like Cas’s hand…like Cas’s body…

No!

This isn’t real!

The ground, Dean refocused …cold and damp…how many was that? Shit! He hadn’t been counting.

I’m gonna lose him…

He closed his eyes tight…hand cradling his forehead….he was alone….

I love you….I love you….

Inhale…..Exhale…..Inhale….

Breathe Dean….

It’s…it’s gonna be okay…breathe….

“Breathe Dean…”

Inhale….Exhale….

“I’ve got you…breathe with me….inhale…exhale…”

Five things…five things he could sense...

Crunch of last year's leaves next to him…cold ground where he sat….

“You’re okay, Dean...inhale….”

Rough scrape of bark against his skin…

“It’ll pass…”

Birdsong in the trees….warm sun on his face….a calm voice...

“Can you look at me, baby? ...Dean, look at me, sweetheart.”

Warm hands on his skin…gentle hands…

“You’re doing so good, Baby…you’re okay…it’ll pass…I love you…”

Cas’s hands…

I love you…

Cas….

“I love you… It’s okay…breathe with me, Dean…”

“Cas?”

“I’m here,” Cas said. “Dean. I’m right here. Just keep breathing with me.”

Inhale…..Exhale….

Cas’s body, warm against his side where he crouched next to Dean…

Inhale……..Exhale…….

Inhale………….Exhale……..

“You're doing so good, Dean. You’re okay.”

“Cas….Cas, I’m so sorry!”

Cas regarded him, concerned eyes soft on his own, “For what, baby?”

“For leaving you…I’m sorry I wasn’t what you needed me to be…”

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” Cas’s hand rubbed circles on his back.

“When I left you…all those years…I left you..”

“But you came back,” Cas’s brow knitted as he searched Dean’s face. “Sweetheart…that was a long time ago,” Cas touched the back of his hand to Dean’s forehead, checking for fever.

Dean took his hand…gripped it tight against his chest.

“I know…I know Cas…I don’t know why I…I just woke up this morning and I…” Dean shook his head. “It felt like I was losing you.”

“Dean,” Cas cocked his head, his tone mildly admonishing. “Don’t you know by now you’re stuck with me?” Cas smiled, his free hand cupping Dean’s cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You weren’t….” You were gone, Dean thought. I lost you… . He searched Cas’s eyes. Cas hadn’t left him….why did he even think that? They were okay….they were going to be okay… “It doesn’t matter now,” he said finally, closing his eyes and shaking his head to clear it.

When he opened them again Cas was appraising him, eyes blue, like the lupines that grew in their meadow in spring. Blue and full of life and tenderness.

“Come here,” Dean gasped suddenly, pulling Cas into his lap, and clinging to him tightly. Cas let out a little surprised “Oh! Okay!”

Dean cradled the back of Cas’s head with his hand. Cas tucked his face into the crook of Dean’s neck.

This was what he’d needed all day. The reassuring touch he craved. The softness of Cas’s hair against his cheek. The feel of Cas’s heartbeat against his own. His skin smelt clean like the Ivory soap he’d showered with before coming home from his shift.

“I needed this,” Dean confessed, his lips against Cas’s hair. “I just needed to feel you…to touch you.  I can’t explain it.”

“I tried to call you, but your boss is a real dick.”

“Heh,” Dean huffed, with a tired smile. “Don’t I know it.”

Cas hummed, thoughtfully. He shifted back in Dean’s arms, letting go enough to see his face.

“It was a nice surprise. The coffee.”

“It wasn’t nothin, Cas,” Dean blushed, knowing Cas was assessing him now, searching his expression with a worried little pinch to his brow.

Cas lifted his hand to cup Dean’s cheek. Dean placed his own hand against Cas’s, holding it there before placing a kiss on his palm.

“I broke your mug,” Dean remembered suddenly. He gripped Cas’s hand, pulling it away from his face, but holding on, caressing Cas’s fingers and palm. “The NYU one. I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Oh! That’s okay. I didn’t really like that one anyway,” Cas's lips quirked into a smile as he caught Dean’s eyes again.  “It’s too wide. Too much surface area. The coffee and tea always get cold too fast in that one.”

Cas shifted off Dean’s lap, sitting next to him, both of their backs against the tree. He smiled softly. “Should we go inside? Or do you need a change of scene?”

Dean searched Cas’s face as if looking at him for the first time, trying to take in every feature, every crinkle and laugh line and commit it to memory. He swept the hair from Cas’s forehead smiling back. “Maybe…maybe a quick drive with you. Just…yeah..change of scene for a bit, but…I just really want us to spend time together tonight.”

“We could go into town and get a pizza,” Cas suggested. He looked around seeming to notice their surroundings. “It’s still warm out. Actually a pretty nice night for a walk through town. I stopped at the pharmacy on the way home and picked up that new motocross mag and a few catalogs that had home designs and blueprints in them. I saw a few that looked nice and wanted to show you. That’s why I was late actually. Sorry I wasn’t home sooner.”

“That’s okay Cas.”

“I guess that might be kind of boring though huh? Just looking at house plans. We can go see a movie if you-”

“No!” Dean interrupted. “Boring is good. Boring is… perfect. But for the record Cas, looking through design catalogs for the home I’m gonna build with you is anything but boring. That was actually really sweet of you.”

Cas smiled with a shy bite to his lip, then stood, offering a hand to Dean and pulling him up.

“Feeling better then?” He asked, regarding Dean, the little furrow in his gaze returning briefly.

“You’re here.” Dean’s hand squeezed Cas’s tighter. “I feel perfect."

They walked to the Impala, Dean holding Cas’s hand, thinking about all the little ways Cas showed Dean every day that he loved him, and about all the ways Dean was going to show his love to Cas in return. Every day.  

A whole lifetime full of love.

[kujojotarolover]

Also o for Rohan please

cw: Yandere Themes, Allusions to Stalking, Mentions of Stalking, Obsessive Thoughts / Nature, Angst, Dire Situations, Torture, Graphic Descriptions / Thoughts, Brainwashing and / or Memory Wiping Allusion, Thoughts / Mentions of Death, General Dark Themes not Suitable for Immature Audiences. Reader-Insert, Gender Neutral. Uncomfortable scenarios included, read at you own discretion! 18+ ONLY!

author's note: Totally not inspired by House of Wax or anything, nah. This is my first ficlet involving Kishibe Rohan, I hope that you enjoy this delusion man and this creepy fic! These "Yandere Prompts Flower Language" were written and coined by @/nanasparadise . That original post can be located here. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is not a good situation! I hope you enjoy this!

PROMPT: Orchid (love, beauty): "My, you're breathtaking. Your beauty needs to be cherished."

word count: Approximately 1.8k

Swish. 

Swish, swish. Swish. 

Swiiiiiiish. 

Everything dimmed and blurred in a flurry haze. Bright light like you’ve never known before shone and rushed like a hurricane, circling and widening and engulfing. You quickly tried to shut your eyes from the blinding hues, but something pulled uncomfortably against your face. Your mind scrambled. 

Why couldn’t you blink? 

Your pupils whizzed in frantic dashes, desperately trying to escape the maddening light that started to dull more and more and more and… wait. Hey, yeah. This… you’re standing in a room. It’s not a room you’ve ever seen before and that worries you, but you can finally pick up the faintest edges and outlines of details now. You want to squint, but the pressure from earlier comes back fast so you just settle for letting your eyes slowly adjust. 

Swish, swish, swishswishswish. 

There it is again. That noise: the sound that had brought you forth into this waking world. Your brain can’t quite comprehend what it's hearing, but it distinctly reminds you of the strokes of a paintbrush. Which, funnily enough, only brings more questions than answers. So, you turn your head. 

You… turn your head. 

Panic emerges from your chest in a rupture as you start straining your muscles. Why can’t you move your head? It feels like it’s pinned in place, pinioned by that weight from earlier that kept you from closing your eyes and that petrifies you. This doesn’t make any sense, none of it does. Your head is whorling in nasty waves and you start to struggle. 

A rattling, like cracked porcelain. Muffled panting, the sound of terror huffing against something solid. You breathe. You try to breathe in but your lungs refuse to expand very far—held down, immobile. You think you’re hyperventilating now, shaking in place like a ball filled with too much kinetic energy and you feel like you’re going to explode with madness. 

Then, a voice. 

“Oh, you're waking up now, are you?” A deep siiiiigh. “Well, I suppose I did only write ‘until Kishibe Rohan finishes painting the initial coat’, didn’t I?” 

A lackadaisical, nasally voice rhetorically questions himself before the swish swish swish begins once more. You don’t recognize the voice. Or, no, you do. The tone and intonation tickle the furthest reaches of your mind and you wrack your brain to call it forth. The name, think of the name. Kishibe Rohan. Why does that sound familiar? You feel something twinge. Yes, you do know him. 

“That doesn’t matter now, of course,” Rohan comments, “just stop panicking. The clay may be dry, but you’ll be irreparable if you accidentally tear any of it off at this stage.” 

What… What in the hell did he just say? 

“It will also bring you unbelievable amounts of pain,” Rohan pauses. Something clacks against wood. He had set his brush down. “But to see you in such agony and in such disarray would cause me more misery than you’d ever imagine.” 

Rohan picks up something—another paintbrush, probably—and leans in close. 

Your dry eyes have finally cleared and the image before you is flawless. 

The room looks unique, for sure, with a triangular bookshelf pressed against the side wall and the artisan desk not too far ahead. There’s also various prints framed and hung around the extra space of the room. The floors are hardwood, the walls are flamingo pink, the room’s trimmings are mauve, and the blinds are a rich royal blue. Everything is dimmer than you’d originally expected, but you notice a singular curtain is drawn up to allow beaming sunlight to gleam across your face. Nothing looks familiar, you’ve never been here before; so, the only logical conclusion is that this is Kishibe Rohan’s office. 

Another hopeful scan of the room births nothing of use to you. There’s a flame that withers inside, you can feel a flicker of hope diminish in your chest. What will help you escape? Another fretful glance. What can get clay off of your body? 

But your eyes can’t take in the details quick enough before a dark shadow looms before your eyes and you’re forced to focus on that instead. 

Kishibe Rohan.

He looks as eccentric and as fashionable as he did the very first time you laid your eyes upon him. That lusciously vivid sacramento green hair of his swoops over his forehead and stays tucked away by the lime eggshell headband he dons. Intense emerald orbs pierce through you, awash with such emotions that you feel a queer turn in your stomach that make your body involuntarily hitch. Rohan’s expression is tense, but focused. He calmly watches your eyes meet his and the corner of his lips quirk upward. 

“Good, my little muse,” Rohan’s eyes close briefly as he sighs again and starts to titter. “Though the clay is much too solid for much to shift it out of place, I’m sure the heat of it and the nature of the substance has caused it to permanently iron itself to your flesh.” 

Your heart thunders against your ribcage. 

“Moving it or grinding against it could possibly disrupt it and, well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what will happen after that,” Rohan’s sudden humor is once again lost as he lifts his arm back up and brings the paintbrush towards your face. 

But you can’t even care about that! What the hell else were you supposed to think about? You’re permanently trapped in this clay prison and moving will flay you alive! And you want to freak out even more. Want to flail, kick, scream, throw a damn tantrum to break free—but it’s futile. It’s so absolutely futile and that’s why you feel like your world is suddenly swinging around you like a merry-go-round. Streaking, and slurring, and swimming, and you pant. you pant. you pant. 

You feel painful tears sting against the rims of your eyes. The sclera are so desiccated, so aired out from being held open for this long that tears feel like stabbing needles prickling the very organs. Your head reels noisily. 

The paintbrush dabs against the clay of your cheekbone as Rohan finetunes the precise details. You can’t focus. You feel so absolutely lost, you’re so helpless, fuck fuck fuck—is this how you’re going to die? Standing, posed, in this crazy man’s home covered in model clay as you slowly starve and dehydrate to the point of no return? Tortured by a man that you met by chance… once? 

That’s when you really became flighty. Your head thumped loudly, right behind your sinuses, and you felt so so full. You’d only met this stranger once! All because of a mishap at a local art store. Fuck, you can’t even clearly remember the memory—that’s how long ago this happened! You think you ended up helping him out, there was a miscommunication. You can’t recall. You’re teetering on the edge of passing out and going numb from how heavily you’re breathing against warm, damp clay. Your appendages are tingling and you feel like you’re floating on clouds. Why is he doing this? What did you do to deserve this? 

Rohan’s paintbrush feathers over the bridge of your nose and he releases a pleased hum. 

“Absolutely stunning,” Rohan’s free hand comes up to cradle your jaw, but he stops and jerks back. “Not quite yet. I would hate to tarnish my hard work, especially after all of the trouble I went through to get you here.” 

The memories before this very moment feel fuzzy. They’re like minnows, swaying along with the currents of a stream and constantly going. On and on and on and on and on. You see them fade and disappear, they wink out and more minnow follow their ilk. You cast your line out in distress, the hook glimmery in the light of your conscience, and watch it dip into the water. It gets sucked along and the line screeches as it’s pulled into nothingness. 

“Buuut this was very much worth it,” Rohan states. “I’ve been following you for so long, watching you and studying you to make sure you’re really what I believed you to be the first time I happened upon you.” 

Oh, Gods, you just want to sob. You want to start weeping and curl up into a tiny ball, but you’re frozen solid and you’re forced to listen to Rohan’s words. You’re forced to listen to the ramblings of a man long gone. 

“You’re so pure, so unlike other people, so kind,” Rohan seems to shudder and you want to just collapse under his loving stare. “When you first gazed at me with those beautiful eyes, I fell deeply in love with you. It felt like my heart was going to burst when you departed from me, but… don’t worry, I made sure to keep you within my sights.” 

Swish, swish, swiiish. 

“I followed you, every day, every waking moment that I possibly could,” Rohan admits. He then withdraws the paintbrush, dips the end into a swatch of color, and continues detailing. “You were filled with this admirable justice, this sense of innocence and purity. Of truth, of precision. Your honesty, your soul… everything about you was like a flame and I was consumed like oxygen into the laps.” 

Everything and nothing makes sense. You would shake your head, would avert your face away from Rohan’s lecherous eyes, and try to plug your ears to mute this insanity. But you can just be his little statue. Listening. 

“And after a while… watching you from afar started to bore me, honestly.” Rohan huffs, as if he were absolutely bothered by the notion and then turns his stare over his shoulder. “So I waited and waited and waited. There was much to think about, you know. As an artist, I had to make sure this wasn’t sloppy. I had to be positive that you were the one, that nothing would tarnish you. I… I needed to immortalize you.” 

Your eyes gape in horror at Rohan as he drags another long sweep of the paintbrush across your cheeks before arching back. 

Rohan scrutinizes your face thoughtfully, romantically, and an excitedly giddy grin smears across his lips. 

“My, you’re breathtaking.” Rohan shivers, his eyes widening with something wild as he drops his brush to the palette and laces his fingers together. “Your beauty needs to be cherished.”

It feels like the floor is opening up, is dropping you in, and you’re flushing away. You're going so fast, so soon, so terribly. And you just look into Rohan’s eyes, disbelieving, and you feel like your heart 

stops. 

“My own personal Astraea, that’s what I’ve made you, my muse.”

[shadow-assassin-blix]

Never Thought This Would Happen

Soulmate AU: Combination of two different soulmate ideas. You can feel each other’s physical pains and if you write on your body, it will show up on your soulmate’s as well.

This is for the Ben Barnes Secret Santa fic exchange. @fific7​ I hope you enjoy this!  

Billy Russo x reader. Word count: 5137.

Warnings: Mentions of being hit by a car, some canon typical violence (neither incidents are overly detailed) and Billy talking about his past abuse. Lots of fluff, some angst, a dash of spice.

Happy Holidays! 

Soulmate. The concept always made Billy scoff. He didn’t believe in it despite the fact that whatever happened to your body, whether it was an injury, or a message written on their body you could feel/see it. He very often rolled his eyes when he would see a silly message on his arm. His soulmate greatly enjoyed drawing smiley faces or sending puns. He tended to ignore it. Hell. He didn’t even think about the potential pain he put her through when he joined the marines. Nor did he think about it when he, Frank, and Curtis created Anvil together and went on dangerous missions together.

He didn’t think about… until the day he met her in the hospital.

It was supposed to be an ordinary guard job. Protect the rich schmuck from retaliation as he campaigned to be New York’s Mayor. No one suspected that someone would be so angry about his political views, that they would try and take him out. Frank wound up getting shot trying to protect him. The three of them were at the hospital, as Frank was prepped for surgery to remove the bullets and the fragments.

Most of the day he had felt a tickling sensation on his arm, as his soulmate sent message after message to him. It was starting to annoy him. He and Curtis were waiting for a doctor to tell them about Frank’s progress, when Billy felt a sudden pain randomly throughout his body. The pain was overwhelming to the point where he had to sit down; Curtis trying to help by coaching him through breathing techniques.

As that occurred, the doors to the emergency room burst open as EMTs raced in pushing a gurney with a young woman on it.

Several doctors and nurses sprung into action, asking for the details about what happened.

“Car accident. Young lady was hit trying to walk across the street. Several bones are broken, and we suspect that she has some internal bleeding. Guy ran the red light going 80mph,” One of the EMT’s explained quickly.

Billy spotted as she was pushed past several doodles and words on her arms. Billy took off his suit jacket and rolled up sleeve; his mind hoping that he was wrong. That this was just a coincidence.

He saw the words “Hey! I’m in NY right now, and wow! Everything is amazing! Is it silly that I kinda hope you live in the area?” “Trying a slice of NY style pizza for the 1st time!” with a doodle of a pizza slice next to it. He looked between his arm and hers, and he realized… with growing concern… that they matched.

She was rolled back into surgery, and he stared at the doors with a blank face.

“Hey man? Talk to me. What’s going through that brain of yours? Did you know that girl?” Curtis questioned him, trying to figure out why Billy was so freaked out.

“I… I think that was my soulmate?” Billy breathed once it finally registered.

Curtis stared at him in mild shock, “I don’t know whether to feel bad for you or laugh. The forever bachelor’s soulmate has appeared.”

Billy honestly didn’t know how to feel either. His first thought was to avoid her at all costs. He focused his attention on Frank and making sure he stayed safe.

It wasn’t until several hours later that they were informed that Frank was resting comfortably in his own room. Surgery was a success.

The nurse informed them that only one visitor at a time could see him, so while Curtis stepped inside, Billy stayed out in the hall. While he waited, he noticed that in the room next to Frank’s, was his soulmate.

‘It’s…it’s not possible right? It’s… it’s just a coincidence?’ He thought as he stepped into her room, hesitantly.

He walked over to her, his eyes roving over the many bandages that covered her body.

He pulled out a pen, and drew a random swirl on his hand, his eyes staring intently at hers. A moment passed and a swirl appeared on her hand, identical to his.

“So, it really is you?” Billy sighed, unsure of how to feel.

Billy was adamant he would never meet his soulmate, and that if he did, he would ignore them. He wasn’t one to be tied down. However, he didn’t expect that this is how they would meet. This was the first time he ever truly felt pain from his soulmate, and it was eye-opening. It made him… feel a bit guilty… for his lack of care in avoiding getting harmed.

He walked back out into the hallway trying to figure out… Figure out what? His next move? Did… did he want to get to know her? He almost felt like he had to explain himself to her. Or… did he actually want to get to know her? His thoughts felt chaotic.

Maybe… maybe if he talked to Frank? Frank who had found a second in Karen, his first soulmate being Marie. Maybe… maybe he’d know what to do?

Curtis had stepped out of Frank’s room, and was going to call Karen, to let her know what happened, so Billy figured now would be best.

Billy took a seat next to his bed, and Frank sighed heavily.

“Sometimes… I really hate our job,” Frank joked slightly.

“But… we’re good at it, right?” Billy tossed back, with a slight smirk.

Frank shook his head, before staring at him seriously, “So… Curtis mentioned something strange. Your soulmate… is here?”

“…Yeah. She’s uhh. She’s next door in fact. I… I’m not sure what to do,” Billy admitted.

“Wasn’t your original plan something along the lines of ‘pretend they don’t exist?’ You were always so sure of that response,” Frank pointed out, with a slight frown.

“..Yeah.. However, it wasn’t until today that… I realized just how much that shit hurts, when you are able to feel their pain,” Billy began scratching at his chin before trying to dismiss, “I guess part of me feels a bit guilty for the constant shit I put my body through.”

“Well… the Marines was one thing… but you do realize that she probably also felt..” Frank jerked his head toward Billy’s shoulder.

Billy froze at that realization. He never thought about the possibility that she may have felt him being attacked by that bastard when he was a kid. He touched his shoulder, trying not to think too deeply about the memories.

“…What do you think I should do?” Billy asked quietly.

“I mean… I know what I would. Go next door and introduce myself. I also know that for all the confidence you have brother, you have never been one for commitment. Whether that’s due to you trying to protect yourself or if you really think you’d be happier being the forever bachelor, I don’t know. I do know that you owe her some explanation for the hell you’ve probably put her through. Not saying you have to immediately fall in love and date her but have a conversation with her and go from there,” Frank answered with a sigh.

“When did you get so wise?” Billy joked weakly.

“Marie. She always wanted the best for you, you know? Wanted you happy and be with someone who made you feel whole,” Frank said with a chuckle.

Billy shook his head thinking about Marie and her constant fretting. Billy moved to say something else, but he heard Karen’s voice freaking out in the hallway. Billy snorted standing up and making his way back out to the hallway as Karen rushed past.

A couple of hours passed, as Curtis and Billy made several phone calls trying to put out the fires that had occurred due to the shooting. Once everything had settled the two of them took a breath, sitting down.

Curtis was talking to him about something, but Billy didn’t hear him as he noticed a doctor and nurse walk into the room that held his soulmate. His focus was zeroed in on her.

A few minutes passed before the staff walked out, and Curtis had given up trying to get Billy’s attention.

Billy wasn’t sure how but suddenly he was standing in her doorway, about to step in. He pulled out the pen he had on him, gripping it tightly as he moved further in.

The woman, his soulmate, looked up at him, confused… and slightly worried.

“Hello? May I help you?” Her voice asked him cautiously.

Billy slowly lifted the pen and wrote ‘hello’ on his hand. The woman watched him curiously, before looking down at her own hand a moment later.

She gasped lightly as she looked between the two of them.

“Umm. Hey?” He started with a wince, feeling awkward.

She stared at him for a moment, before saying, “Bummer.”

It was Billy’s turn to be confused, “Excuse me?”

“Was hoping you’d be ugly. It would at least make up for the fact that you’ve ignored me and the bullshit pain I’ve gone through because of you. But nooo. You had to be drop dead gorgeous,” She grumbled slightly, shaking her head.

Billy stared at her blankly for a moment and after he processed what she said he weakly chuckled, “Think you’re the first person to ever be disappointed by me being handsome.”

“Oh! I’m not disappointed! Please don’t take what I said too seriously! I just… I mean… never thought that this is how we would meet y’know?” She said worriedly.

“Not gonna lie. I never thought this would happen either. Are you… are you okay?” He asked her, his eyes glancing at the many bandages.

“Yeah. I’m good for now. Can’t believe it took me getting hit by a car for my soulmate to actually write back to me,” She said with a teasing smile.

“Well, not gonna lie, besides the occasional random pains in my abdomen and papercuts, you’ve lived your life pretty cautiously. So, it was kind of flooring to feel all that pain and then… see you pass by while I was waiting to hear on my friend,” Billy noted, sighing. “He had gotten shot and was in surgery when you were rolled by me.”

“Oh wow. That’s quite the double whammy. Umm. By the way… what’s your name? Cause mentally I keep calling you Handsome and I don’t want to accidentally say it aloud when we’ve only just met,” The woman reminded him.

“Billy Russo. It’s a pleasure to meet you…” Billy began.

She told him her name before saying “You can call me London though. It’s a nickname that my friends gave me.”

“Why London?” Billy asked curiously.

“I lived in England for many years. It was practically home for me. However, as a photographer, I tend to travel as much as possible. Never been one to settle down in one location,” London explained to him. “My friends chose London cause that’s where a big portion of my first portfolios were set in.”

Billy opened his mouth to say something else when his phone rang. He sighed heavily, apologizing as he answered it.

“Russo,” He stated first, listening to the person talking. “What are you talking about? The job is done. We are not going to protect someone who refused to give us all the facts about the threats against him. He can find someone else to take bullets for him. I am not putting my team at risk again.”

He hung up with a growl of annoyance.

“Hm. That… that was oddly sexy,” London mumbled to herself.

Billy ran a hand down his face, feeling exhausted.

“Sorry. Umm. Work. So… are you here in New York for work or for fun?” Billy asked trying to seem casual.

“Both. I have a couple of weddings, and other jobs lined up, especially with journalists. Was supposed to meet a journalist to talk about some company called Anvil? I don’t know,” London said with a shrug.

Billy froze then chuckled.

“What?” London asked him, head tilted trying to figure him out.

“Well. It seems that… fate was going to bring you to me no matter what. I own Anvil. My best friends, Frank Castle and Curtis Hoyle, run it with me. I… I can’t believe this,” Billy shook his head in disbelief.

“Whoa. No way. You’re the CEO of the security agency? The former marine? And whoa wait… You’re best friends with the Punisher?” London couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yes to all of the above,” Billy answered with pride.

“Marine. Hmm. Well. That explains a lot,” She said somewhat quietly.

Billy moved further into her room finally, asking silently if he could sit. At her nod, he does so.

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry about that… I guess I was. Well. Am pretty cavalier with my life. Most of what you felt was from me in the marines, and I apologize for not… taking your feelings into consideration. I’m sure… those pains were pretty alarming to you?” Billy apologized to her, feeling it was necessary.

“Yeah… it’s… quite the shocker to suddenly feel like I was shot and nothing to show for it. However, I will forgive you if…” She trailed off.

“If what?” Billy asked her, trying to appear annoyed.

“If… you give me a grand tour of NY. All of the best places to go. It doesn’t have to be… a romantic date or anything. I just want to get to know you, if you are down for that?” She proposed to him.

Billy looked at her for a moment. Really looked at her. Taking in her features, and her soft smile.

“I think I can handle that. Shall we exchange numbers? You can tell me when you’re released, and I can come get you if you’d like?” Billy offered.

Her smiled brightened and Billy found himself smiling back. A part of him was chastising himself, asking ‘why would you offer that? You don’t know this woman? Even if she is your soulmate? What happened to not wanting anything to do with her?’ However, a larger part of him desperately wanted to see her smile again.

They exchanged numbers, and he left her to rest alone. He stepped out into the hallway to see Curtis smirking at him.

“How did it go Prince Charming?” Curtis asked teasingly.

“Surprisingly well. So, let’s… let’s go get some grub… or a drink or two, yeah?” Billy suggested to him.

Curtis nodded his head and the two of them were off to their usual haunt; a local bar that served burgers and fries. The two of them after ordering, sat at the bar idly chatting. About 20 minutes had passed and Curtis started chuckling at him, out of the blue.

“What? What’s so funny?” Billy questioned him.

“Appears that soulmate of yours is occupying your mind. At least 3 women have tried flirting with you and you’ve yet to notice,” Curtis said once his laughter had calmed down.

Billy blinked, looking at him in mild confusion, “Huh?”

“You got it bad man. 20 minutes in and she already got you hooked,” Curtis said with a shake of his head.

Billy had no idea how to respond to that. He just continued drinking his beer, and further distracted himself when the food came out. It was true, he was thinking about London, but he didn’t want to admit that. He was going to take this one day at time, and just go from there.

A few days later, both Frank and London were being released from the hospital. Billy waited outside with Karen who kept staring at him confused. Most likely due to the fact that he held a small teddy bear.

London was rolled out first and Billy smiled smally at her walking over to meet her.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked her as he and the nurse helped her stand up.

“I’m okay. Sore. But okay. Is that for me?” She asked him, looking at the teddy bear.

“Yes. Thought about flowers but wasn’t sure if you had any allergies. Figured the bear was the safer option,” Billy somewhat mumbled, sheepishly.

She quietly told him her favorite flower, and said, “The bear is very cute though, so thank you.”

Billy cleared his throat as he handed it to her, and then walked her over to his car. Billy was so preoccupied with her that he failed to notice Frank coming out and staring at him with a growing smirk.

Karen stood next to him, looking between him and Billy, questions littering her face.

“His soulmate. Guess Curtis was right, his attention really has become centered around her,” Frank spoke lowly, watching Billy take off in his car once he got her situated.

Karen snorted, trying not to laugh.

“Poor guy. Never seen him look so nervous, which didn’t make sense until now. Think he’s ever going to actually introduce her to us?” Karen asked as she and Frank moved to her car.

“Once the whole thing fully settles in his mind. I’m sure part of him still is trying to process this. Knowing him, he might come to a point where he distances himself from her for a time. When you’re used to being disappointed a lot, you tend to expect it,” Frank answered once they were in the car.

Back with Billy, they were halfway to her apartment that she was staying at.

“So… I know you said you were in New York for work… how long are you here for?” Billy questioned breaking the silence.

“I am booked out for the next year for various events. Trying to get rid of me already?” She lightly teased him.

“No. I was just.. wondering. You said the other day that you don’t like to be tied down to one place for too long,” Billy trailed off, not sure why the thought bothered him.

“Oh. I did say that didn’t I? I mean… I can find a reason or two to stay here already. However, we have a year to figure things out. We have time to decide… whatever we want this to be,” She offered, hesitantly moving to hold his hand, hers hovering over his.

Billy nodded not looking at her as he quietly grasped her hand and held it.

She bit her lip trying to hide her smile as she watched him. She could tell he was not used to this. Granted, it had been a while since she had been in a relationship herself, and her longest relationship didn’t last more than a couple of months. Between them finding their own soulmates, and others hating that she traveled for work, dating was difficult.

He took her home, and they discussed their plans for tomorrow. They discussed going to Central Park Zoo and taking a stroll around the park. She never got to try NY style pizza the other day, so they made a plan to go get a slice or 2 for lunch.

He made sure she was settled and comfortable, before leaving her.

The next day rolled around, and the two of them began their… date? At the zoo. She brought her camera with her, taking candids/snapshots of all the animals. Unbeknownst to him, she took a few shots of him while he wasn’t paying attention. He eventually caught on, playfully glaring at her.

“Alright my little shutterbug, shall we go get pizza?” Billy asked as they reached the end.

“‘My little shutterbug?’ Don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before. But yes. Let’s goooo,” She cheered.

The two of them ate, and Billy couldn’t help but think about how adorable she was while she listened intently to him explain the proper way to eat a slice of NY style pizza. Even moreso when she was eating and making a mess of herself.

Once they finished eating, they started the walk toward her apartment due to her feeling exhausted.

“Sorry. I feel like such an old lady, but everything is starting to feel sore again,” She explained with a wince.

“Don’t be. I understand. Do you need anything before I go?” Billy inquired, as she made her way inside and he stood in her doorway.

“I’m good. You… you can come in y’know?” She pointed out as she looked back at him.

Billy slowly took a step in, feeling very much not like himself. He was usually overly confident and self-assured and would have strutted in without any uncertainties.

He looked around her apartment and saw a lot of photography equipment, and photos scattered everywhere.

“So… would you like to… stay… and watch a movie or two?” She asked him after taking some medicine.

“Depends… Are you going to make me watch chick flicks?” Billy shot back with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean… while I do have some chick flicks, I have a great deal of other genres lots of action. Basically, every Disney movie possible,” She began listing, but stopped when she saw his nose twinge. “Do… do you not like Disney?”

“Never saw one to be honest. Just know they are kid’s shit,” Billy said with a shrug.

She gasped dramatically, “Never seen any of them? Oh. Ohhh we are fixing that. This is happening. I’m not sure what kind of childhood you had but you were deprived.”

Billy didn’t say anything in response to that, just watched her run over to a shelf full of brightly colored DVDS cases.

“We shall start from the beginning. Snow White doesn’t tend to be my favorite, but she is the first Disney movie. Well. Correction, she is the first Disney Princess Movie, the first cartoon is Steamboat Willie, but I digress. I will catch you up on them all. You show me all of New York, I show you all of Disney movie franchise. These will be our goals for the next year,” She rambled slightly, as she tugged him over to her couch, after popping the DVD in the player.

Billy sat next to her, pulling his phone out of his pocket and setting it down on coffee table. He shook his head as she curled up next to him, leaning against his arm slightly. As the movie began, he moved his arm to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in closer. He can see her smile as she scooted closer to him, head moving to lie against his shoulder.

He watched the movie with her with vague interest, not quite understanding the plot. The movie ended and he turned to her with questions getting ready to pour from his mouth.

“Listen. I know. They… they don’t get much better. But the music is good and they’re pretty to look at, so we forgive the terrible plots,” She explained to him with a laugh.

And so began their weekly tradition of watching a Disney movie (or two depending on the mood), as part of their date nights. About 2 months had passed and after a long day of training and meetings, he was ready to just collapse into his bed. When he got to his apartment, London was waiting for him, with a bag full of Chinese takeout and a case of beer.

“You’re beautiful and wonderful, have I told ya that?” He murmured to her, leaning down to kiss her, before unlocking his door.

“Long day babe?” She asked him, as she watched him leave a trail of clothes and items on his way to his bedroom.

She heard him answer somewhat muffled, as she unpacked the food and grabbed some plates and utensils. When he stepped back out he wore a simple pair of sweats and nothing else. She gazed at his torso looking at each scar she could see. She shook her head and snapped out of it before he caught her.

The two of them made their plates, and quietly ate at his table. She was about halfway through when her eyes stopped on the scar that was on his left shoulder. She tried to think back to when she felt pain from that area, thinking it was from his time in the marines.

Billy noticed her staring and said quietly, “It was from when I was a kid. You keep asking me questions about my childhood and I know you’ve noticed that I don’t ever answer them. I was abandoned as a baby, went through the foster system. I was uh… about 10… maybe 11 when it happened. When a grown man calls you pretty, you know nothing good is going to come from it. I was able to fight back but he was able to break my arm and ripped my rotator cuff in 3 places.”

She felt her heart breaking, “I remember that. I remember crying and freaking out. My parents had no clue what to do, especially when physically there was nothing wrong. I was hoping it was something like… you were being like any normal boy and like skateboarding and a trick went wrong or something. Please tell me that bastard was arrested?’

“Yeah. One of the other boys that he uhh… he attacked spoke up about it. It’s one of those things I don’t like talking about a lot, but I figured you should know since… yeah,” His sentence trailed off and he stared blankly ahead of him.

London quietly stood up, moving over to him; she tapped his arm, motioning for him to lean back. He does as she asks, looking up at her curiously. She straddled his hips, as she took a seat in his lap. She bends her head down slightly, pressing small kisses to the scar that was on his shoulder.

Billy tensed for a moment before relaxing as he realized what she was doing. He gently lifted her head back up, gazing into her eyes before capturing her lips in a soft kiss.

She gasped against his lips, before returning the kiss, and deepening it with a soft moan. The two of them had kissed before but this felt…different. Their other kisses had been short and sweet. This… this was passion and intensity.

When they pulled away, trying to catch their breathes, Billy whispered to her, “Hold onto me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, as his hands grasped her thighs lifting her as he stood up. He carried her over to his bed, laying her down as he crawled on top of her.

They kissed again, tugging each other’s clothes off haphazardly. He pulled back, his eyes looking to see if there was any hesitation, any doubt. Upon finding none he kissed her again, his hands exploring her body.

They spent that night learning about each other’s bodies, looking over scars, finding spots that drove each other crazy. It was in the late hours of the night when the two of them were finally spent, curling around each other as they fell into a comfortable sleep.

So comfortable in fact that Billy slept through his alarm and didn’t hear his phone going off. He did, however, hear Frank burst into his apartment shouting his name.

Billy jerked awake, reaching for his knife that he kept under his pillow, brandishing it protectively in front of him and London. She woke up to the shouts, grabbing the covers, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Frank. I gave you that key for EMERGENCIES. Is this an emergency?” Billy asked, anger seeping into his voice as he realize it wasn’t an intruder but his best friend.

“You’re 2 hours late for work. Won’t answer your phone or texts. Forgive me for worrying that something was wrong, ye who is a stickler for being on time,” Frank explained glancing at the woman in Billy’s bed.

“Well, as you can see I’m alive. Now, can you please… go out to the living room so we can get dressed? Pretty sure my girl would feel a bit more comfortable with something other than my bedsheets covering her,” Billy prompted him with a pointed look.

Frank raised an eyebrow at that and stepped back into the living room.

Billy returned the knife to its original place, before looking over at his soulmate.

“Sorry about that, you okay?” His voice was soft and full of concern.

“Honestly, confused as hell. But yes, I’m okay. Do all of your friends do that? Or is it really that abnormal for you to sleep in?” She asked him still not fully awake.

“Not really one for sleeping in, even if I was with a girl. Apparently, you exhausted me last night,” Billy teased her with a smirk.

“Me? You were the one who was insatiable sir,” She teased back, kissing him.

“No idea what you are talking about,” He muttered against her lips, his smirk growing.

They kissed for a few minutes, before getting out of bed. She groaned softly as she stood, feeling a bit sore in between her legs.

She could practically hear his smugness as she told him to shut it.

They dressed and stepped out of the bedroom, seeing Frank leaning against the island in the kitchen.

Introductions were made, as this was the first time Frank ever officially met her. Frank left soon after, telling Billy to be there for the 2pm meeting.

Billy waves him off, and once Billy was ready for the day, he gave London a lift home before going to work.

After that night, their relationship became much more intimate. Billy did eventually introduce her to all of his friends, and she did the same. It felt strange to be in a relationship. A good kind of strange. Especially when she would still write little dumb jokes on her arms for him to see after a meeting.

Several months passed and before he knew it a year was coming up. However, he had no anxiety about it, since she had already informed him that she wasn’t leaving, not unless he came with. As the end of her lease came up, he asked her a semi-important question.

“Do you want to move in with me? We could… get a bigger place together. Maybe find a place where you can create your own darkroom instead of having to-” His sentence was cutoff by her suddenly kissing him.

When she pulled away he asked, “I take it that’s a yes?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically, kissing him again.

If someone told him a year ago that he would one day be moving into a townhouse with his soulmate, he would say they were crazy. Completely out of their minds.

Here he was though, moving into a 3-bedroom townhouse, with a beautiful woman who made him genuinely laugh and felt loved.

‘Well. That’s one tough question down. Here’s to hoping she’ll say yes to the next big question I ask her.’

[poesparakeet-fics]

Trap and Snap

Happy anniversary @sapphicquill! I love you more, by leaps and bounds, every time I see you. Less than a year until forever!

Anyways I found a girlfriend on tumblr and so I am naturally writing her spicy dnd tickle fic as an anniversary present. Enjoy!

Pairing: Percy/Vax

Rating: R? Adults only. Spicy. Genitals and stuff.

Tags: Bondage, consensual non-consent, playful punishment, safewords, gags, kink negotiation, aftercare, tickle torture

Gonna put this one under the cut because it really starts off in the thick of things.

“Please, Freddy. This isn’t fair.”

“Oh? What do you mean?” Percieval answered,still sitting at his workbench with his eyes glued to the fiddly piece in front of him. “I set a trap for you, specifically, and the trap caught you doing the thing you were specifically not supposed to do. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

Vax squirmed and twisted again in the leather bindings that were encircling most of his body, leaving him stretched like sinew against a stone pillar. His feet didn’t touch the ground, but straps around his ankles and wrists kept him upright while others supported his weight. The trap wasn’t even mechanical, it was magic, cobbled together from a tanglefoot bag and some study of Manners. It seemed like cheating, somehow. 

“I just wanted to come see you! Say hello!” He whined, trying not to shiver at the play of cold stone and hot forge air across his skin.

“In the nude?” Percy finally looked at him like a bug under a microscope. “I’ve told you it’s not safe to play that particular game down here.”

Vax whined again, deep in the back of his throat. “It was until you started making traps.”

Percy sighed at that. “You’ll notice the trap caught you all the way over there, away from danger. It can keep you there until I’m ready to deal with you.”

“Freddy.” Vax whined some more, a flush rising across most of his naked body. Percy’s innovative spirit in tying him up was always exciting and welcome, but being ignored while it happened seemed unbearable, so he proceeded to make himself unignorable. 

Percy finally sighed, putting down his tools and moving to wash his hands in the basin against the wall. “Alright. But I hope you realize that this upgrades your crime from Attempted Distraction to Distraction, and that will be reflected in how I deal with you.”

Vax’ flush got brighter, a streak of pink up the front of his trunk and around his ears. He squirmed again, careful to push himself against the bindings as pleasingly as possible. 

Percy tutted, shaking his head as he approached. "You're in trouble. Stop trying to look pretty."

"I don't have to try." Vax pouted.

Percy was in his space, then, face to face. He smelled like gunpowder. 

"That's true," he told Vax, gazing from between long lashes. His eyes held desire, but his voice was still flat and disciplinarian. "Yet here you are squirming like a worm on a hook to tempt me."

"Is it working?"

Percy shrugged, slipping his coat off. "Yes, but unlike some people I can still think with my brain when my dick's hard.”

“It wasn’t until your trap got fresh with me,” Vax grumbled, squirming once more to rub himself against the strap that was fastened just there.

Percy stood in front of him now, eyes expectant. “So, what now?”

Yes! Finally! Vax fixed him with his wickedest smile. “Well now you give me what I deserve, eh?”

Percy chuckled, shaking his head. “Too confident. As always."

Vax was about to deliver a cutting comeback when two fingers from each of Percy's careful hands started to play across the stretched-thin skin of each armpit and all of the air in his lungs exited via a squawk. 

"Ai! No noho you can't just-- ah! Sta-haha-art there!"

"Can't I?" Percy sounded disinterested, his eyes watching the movement of his own hands closely. "Seems you're not going to stop me, are you?"

"Fu-hahaha-uck you're supposed to hahahave some build-up you ahaha-aaaaarse!" With that last squeal he was lost in hysterical giggles, the sensation building to steal his indignance away. Or his ability to express it, at least. 

“I can’t let you have everything you want. That would encourage more of this behavior. Maybe I’ll just stay right here the whole time, hm? Overload you in this one spot without giving you even a taste of anything else.”

Vax gritted his teeth and tried to regain enough control to curse some more, but barely made it. “Fuck. No!”

The “no” was supposed to be “don’t you dare you asshole, my vengeance will be swift” but came out as a whimpering plea before sliding back into laughter.

Percival chuckled, the sound tumbling down Vax’ spine like a shiver. “No?” His hands changed their pace to a skittering spider walk that paced patiently from his triceps to the top of his rib cage. Vax’ laughter picked up. “Where do you want me to touch you, then?”

Vax couldn’t talk, so he arched his hips away from the pillar with a whimper. Percy tutted. 

“That doesn’t really satisfy my need for revenge though, does it?”

On one downward pass he finally continued past Vax's armpits to his rib cage, pausing there with flexing fingers to watch the half-elf wail and thrash. 

"This, on the other hand, is plenty satisfying. Though I still feel like I may have been tricked into giving you exactly what you wanted."

Vax's body was limp against the restraints, but his limbs were jerking like a puppet's. He had only enough breath to whine out the other man’s name, and even then he had to grit his teeth to do it. “Percyyyyy!”

“Tsk. It’s always Freddy until you start feeling like you’re in real trouble, hm?”

“I ca-hahaha-can’t!”

The speed with which Percy’s fingers stilled left Vax still gasping and giggling. He managed two quick, panicked breaths before they reappeared under his arms, perfectly poised but torturously still. 

“Can’t what?” Percy purred, a predatory smile on his face.

Vax’ breathing was still embarrassingly jumpy, pinned as he was under the threat.

“I can’t *hic*-- I can’t--” Vax drew out his answer, catching his breath between hiccuping gasps, “I can’t believe *hic* what a cock you are.”

The stunned look on Percy’s face was worth everything that came after, even if it morphed quickly into indignant offense. His fingers started to spider-walk again, this time from the base of Vax’ ribcage to his triceps. 

“I suppose that’s what I get for showing you mercy. Safewords do exist for a reason, don’t they?”

Vax couldn’t answer as his head was thrown back to better let the battering ram of his laughter escape. His eyes were squeezed shut. Percy’s fingers were slow, exact and patient. The methodical movements left him with no doubt about where they would be the next second, and the one after that. It turned his torment into an echo chamber of recovery, sensation and anticipation that seemed to last forever. 

Suddenly the gunpowder smell got stronger, and he could feel the warm wool and linen mass of Percy’s body pressed against him. The fingers stilled, one rough hand moved to brace his arm upward, as if the restraints weren’t doing enough. 

Vax’ eyes flew open with tears on their lashes, alarmed over what it all meant. His laughter turned to hiccups and pants as he tried to get as much air as he could before it started again. Percy’s face was close, chin resting thoughtfully on the wrist he was using to extend Vax’s trapped arm. Vax couldn’t see the other hand, but he could feel it ghosting up and down his side. He shivered and squeaked. 

“Are you ready to apologize, yet?”

“Fuck you! I-- ehehe- I did nothing wrong!”

Percy didn’t even have the good graces to look disappointed.  “Alright then, if that’s what you want.” He shifted his weight, his one hand stretching Vax’ arm upward via a grip on his elbow for the most torturous exposure possible. The other hand, warm and rough, clamped over Vax’ mouth. 

“I don’t want to hear any more talking shit. Your new safeword is snapping your fingers. Understood?”

Vax snapped his fingers with both hands before flipping Percy the bird and glaring.

“Alright then,” Percy muttered, “suit yourself.”

He started to float his face over the stretched skin under Vax’ arm, his smile growing wicked as he teased with hot breath and the barest brush of his nose. He felt Vax’ panicked inhale against his hand before he heard the first whimpering cry. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked with mock sympathy, the words drawing a little squeal into his palm. “Are you regretting your rudeness already?” He glanced up to see Vax’ eyes were already squeezed shut again.

“You’re going to be in quite a lot of trouble when I actually get started.”

Vax whined, head shaking. Percy huffed with laughter, only to earn yet more whining. He finally pressed his lips against pale, damp skin. 

“You’re going to have to be clearer, darling.” 

Vax laughter kicked in, high and hysterical. Percy enjoyed the feeling of it, the squirming against his body, the vibration of laughter against his hand, before continuing.

“You’re shaking your head. Does it mean ‘No, I don’t regret my rudeness?’ or ‘No, please don’t tickle me just the way I like it, or I’ll cry?”

Vax couldn’t respond but to wail, his whole body jumping and thrashing, but without an inch of movement where he needed it most. A tear of laughter bumped over Percy’s knuckles.

“So you see, I’m having a touch of trouble understanding you. I’ll need to insist on absolute clarity. The kind only your safeword can provide.”

When Vax’ fingers still didn’t snap he started to place warm, gentle kisses along the same tricep-to-rib pathway he’d started on and let the sensation build.

Vax felt he might be going mad. Each kiss carried with it such a deluge of sensation-- rough stubble, soft lips, hot breath-- that he couldn’t get used to it. Each one pulled one more thread away from the rope that was his resistance until nothing was left. The kiss that broke him wasn’t special, but he snapped anyway. So did his fingers.

Percy must have been watching, because he withdrew as soon as it happened. The restraints let Vax go, presumably at some command from Percy he hadn’t noticed. He immediately draped himself across the shorter man, still half-giggling from exhaustion.

“Take care of me on your cot, you monster. I’m not walking up to the bedroom with this hard-on.”

Percy tugged him over to the cot to do as he asked, but not without mumbling something about Vax deserving to be left in this state for his distraction crimes.

“Oh, hush. You designed a bondage trap. There are other traps, you know.”

Percy turned a little pink and stopped his grumbling. 

[courseoflove]

Questions

You have lots of questions for Harry and he tries his best to answer each of them.

a/n: hiiiii, think it’s been almost a year since I last posted my writing and I’m finally back! thanks to @oh-honey-styles‘s new fic slam prompts, I was able to curate something I liked enough to share. usually it’d take me lotssss of drafts to be satisfied and happy with something but this one only took 2! I hope you enjoy it and pleaaaaseee be kind ⭐️😸 I’d love to hear your thoughts!

warning: this is just pureee filth. not really smut, but filthy regardless.

Word Count: 1,775

Harry’s forest eyes ogle straight at you, lips pressed in a tight line and twitching on one side to form a smirk that he tried his very best not to show.

That was definitely the last thing he expected to come out of your mouth. He thought you just needed help with something minuscule, like putting together new furniture, fixing the wifi, or help pick out an outfit; things you’ve urgently called him about before. He never, ever thought you’d call him one day and ask for this, a lesson on blowjobs out of all things.

Luckily, sex has never been a taboo topic between the two of you, considering he’s the first person you yell to when you’re letting out your frustrations about your lack of experiences, or vice versa when he just had an intercourse dilemma that continues to leave an everlasting impact on him. But when you’re asking him about giving good oral pleasure, his brain is suddenly void of any thoughts that should help the situation at hand.

“Quit smirking at me, I’m serious!” Harry flinches when you throw a pillow at him from across the other side of the sofa, instantly wiping the smirk off of his face and instead letting out a soft chuckle when he successfully catches it. You throw him an intense yet jest glare, “just. Today at work. I dunno. I just need to know. I want to know.”

“How d’you suppose I do that?” he asks cautiously, leaning forward to settle his elbows on his knees and prop his chin up with the palm of his hand, “teach you, I mean.”

You’re usually never embarrassed around Harry, despite the many weird and unusual conversations you’ve both had during sobriety and drunkenness. You don’t remember ever feeling even the slightest bit awkward or sheepish when you told him about how IUDs work, or giving him a very vivid description of how exactly you feel during your menstruation cycle. He takes it all in and listens with amusement, sometimes with a bowl of extra-buttered popcorn on his lap.

But right now, in this exact moment, you feel slightly skittish and jittery, as if blowjobs were something you’re just now learning about. He can sense it, especially with the way you’re averting your gaze from his eyes to the silent flatscreen tv nailed on your wall — thanks to him. You’re also doing that thing he constantly scolds you for whenever you’re anxious and nervous, chewing ferociously on your bottom lip and squeezing your fingers into a fist to the point your nails will sink on your palm and pop your veins.

“Stop that, you’ll bleed,” he cuts the silence off, “and answer my question.”

You unclench your fist and turn towards him again, barely making eye contact and instead looking at the lovely framed painting hung on the wall behind him, “maybe just describe it?”

“It’s really not that complicated,” was all Harry said. He leans back against your soft couch, taking both of your feet with his hands and settling them on his lap to crack each of your toes. You flinch a little on his first try, turning your focus and watching his fingers work against your skin, “think of a lollipop. Or popsicles, something of the sorts. You put it in your mouth and just… suck. Lick. Move your mouth, without the teeth.”

Suck. Lick. Move your mouth; the words that tumbles out of his lips causes you to flush, your whole body heating up and turning beet red, the color dancing across your nose and emphasizing your imperfections flawlessly.

What Harry said was pretty accurate. It’s not as detailed as you want but you don’t really know how to ask for that without feeling mortified and even more flustered. He said it exactly how it is; you just put your mouth around it, suction your cheeks, use your tongue and bob your head. But you feel like there was something missing, as if there should be more to that. Well, because there is. You want to know more.

His fingers have started to dance their way to your calf, squeezing the deep tissues there in a tender and leisure massage to try and get rid of your tensed muscles. You’re wincing in between syllables when you finally speak after a couple of seconds, “question. It might be weird. Just… just tell me if you don’t wanna answer.”

His eyes lock with yours when he hums for you to continue, a strand of curl falling over his forehead and tickling his brow while his bottom lip gets caught in between his teeth in concentration. He presses his warm hands on your leg forcefully and harder and it helps calm your nerves and neurons, your habit of overthinking in situations like this disappearing little by little the more he moves. The lack of poise you had minutes ago is lessening and your question is on the tip of your tongue, ready to burst at the seams and be voiced aloud.

With your face turning a lot redder and goosebumps developing on your skin from head to toe out of the blue, you ask with your voice a little lower than it was a while ago, “will you tell me what you like? When.. you know.”

Harry’s movements quickly halt. Another unexpected turn. Another question he never, ever thought would come out of your mouth to ask him.

He lets go of his lip and keeps his mouth agape, irises instantaneously dilating and darkening under your lemon-yellow light and turning them into an even darker shade, like a week old leaf. His brain performs a short circuit for a few moments that passes by in silence before he finally swallows and says, “you want to know what I like when I’m getting head?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, feeling even more ridiculous the more you look into his eyes and open your mouth, “I mean, you have the most experience out of the two of us. That’s why I asked in the first place, but I feel — I feel like your first answer doesn’t really — it’s just not satisfying me. There has to be more to it than just.. sucking, I dunno.”

Sure, you talk to one another about sex casually; what one undergos and encounters and what the other simply has no preconceived notions of. Harry would tell his stories in the least disgusting way possible, knowing you’ll groan out loud and tease him about it if he gives away any sort of detail, but there was almost always zero utterance on your end. No lingering and continuous curiosity. You asking about what he likes when he’s getting head is very much unforeseen and maybe even a bit… amiss, especially for you.

However, he can detect a genuine inquisitiveness in your expression. You’re probably one of the hardest people to read on the surface, but he senses that there was more to that interest than just simply wanting to know. At least, he’s hoping there is.

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling a bit weird now the more he gawks at you and doesn’t make a single move to respond. You open your mouth to backtrack when his hesitancy becomes clear, but before you can even take your question back, he’s already mouthing a three-syllable word out loud, “mouth-fucking.”

A low gasp leaves your mouth and the sound doesn’t miss Harry’s eardrums. He should want to take it back, shove the words back in his throat and never say it again despite not being able to. Still and all, he realizes that he likes what you asked and the fact he gave you an answer, a brief one but an honest and precise answer nonetheless. The way your skin warms against the palm of his hands makes him start to sweat, your bare face becoming even more flushed if possible. You don’t really know what kind of answer your mind presumed, but it obviously wasn’t that.

You’re aware of Harry’s self-confidence and boldness when it comes to sex. He has lots of it and it doesn’t come as a surprise. So when he opens his mouth again to explain exactly what he meant, you were able to hold your second gasp back and instead listen in. You can just imagine how filthy he is in bed, considering the description he gives you seems to be even more graphic and explicit, “like normal sex, but I’m doing it to their mouth. I like the sound, the sloppiness of it all, it fuels me. I like being in control, I guess, and no one wants a dry blowjob. I like it really wet.”

You startle both yourself and him when you utter, “what else?”

Harry clears his throat and looks away from your eyes, not because of discomfort because there was absolutely none, but for the reason that the more he stares the more he pictures you inside his head doing exactly what he was evoking. He blinks a couple of times in an attempt to get rid of the colorful conception, yet it just becomes even more lucid and clear-cut. He tries to distract himself by continuing to answer your questions. It definitely doesn’t help. It just drags the mental image on.

“I like it when they let me come down their throat, then swallow it. Or when — when the aftermath of pure bliss just overtakes my entire body. Like, they just pull away for a second then suck me right back in,” the skin on your legs feel sticky under his hold. You swallow at his dazed appearance and tiny smirk, as if he’s picturing it all in his head. And he is, “yeah. I like that a lot.”

Somehow it’s gotten a lot warmer inside the tiny space of your living room, every corner closing in on the two of you in your peripheral vision and you can’t exactly make out the tingling sensation on the tip of your fingers and in between your thighs. Well, you do. You know you’re undoubtedly turned on but acting clueless and ignoring it would be the best way to handle it.

You ask him one more question, the last one you’ll emit for the rest of the evening, “and how was it for them?”

Harry turns his head, connecting his darkened eyes with yours. There’s an indecipherable message written all over his handsome face. His voice is heavy, raspier and deeper with his accent when he answers for the last time, a specific implication behind his tone, “one of these days, you’ll see.”

[italeean]

Just a massage

Yuri is drained from his training and his lover offers his a massage. Unfortunately the Russian doesn't manage to understand his true intentions in

NOTE: Hi everyone, I hope you're doing great!! I've been wanting to write about Yuuri on Ice for a while, but my brain decided to not provide me any ideas (until now, that is). I won’t even begin with how much I love Yuri Plisetsky, otherwise the note would be longer than the fic lol :) I hope you like it, support and/or suggestions are always appreciated ^_^ And, as the anon from yesterday said, ricordatevi sempre di essere felici 💚🤍❤️ (remember to always be happy)

PS. Sorry for not posting this yesterday, but I got tired (I usually write after dinner) and didn’t feel like rushing it just to post it

DISCLAIMER: This is a tickle fic, if it's not to your taste I don't suggest you read it

‘I’m home’ Yuri said as he entered his and Otabek’s apartment. ‘Wel... come back’ the dark-haired ice skater surely did not expect to see his lover as he was when his gaze met his own. Hair disheveled, dark bags under his eyes and the most emaciated expression. He immediately understood that Yakov had decided to be a demon with Yuri’s training routine.

‘Hey honey, training drained you today, huh? Come on, go take a nap, you have a bit more than an hour before dinner’ the Kazakh said. ‘No, don’t worry, I’m not tired at all, who do you take me for?’ the blonde was definitely exhausted, even his supposed-to-be-snarky remark lacked its usual fire. ‘Yeaah, I’m not buying it, go and rest. now.’ Unfortunately Otabek’s “intimidating” tone had no effect on his boyfriend, who, in exchange, said ‘I don’t like repeating myself, I don’t need sle-EEP! Put me down this instant!!’

Otabek knew how stubborn his lover could be, so he opted to go straight with drastic measures. He picked up the petite guy and carried him to the bedroom, ignoring the prolonged string of (not really meant) insults and overly dramatic complaints. On the other hand, he smiled internally at the fact that Yuri was so tired that he was speaking half-Russian without realizing. And, despite his demands of being put down, he clung onto him as if he was asking him to never let go.

As the couple reached the room, the taller guy laid Yuri on the bed and tucked him in, not without him rustling a bit because “this was stupid and he wasn’t tired”. The blonde would have fought him much more, but was his head touched the pillow, all the pent-up drowsiness hit him like a truck without giving him an actual chance to resist the urge to close his eyes. Otabek tsk-ed when he saw the tiny guy already sound asleep, gave him a soft kiss on the forehead and went to the kitchen to get dinner started.

A couple of hours later, the ice skater was woken up by a pleasant smell of Pirozhki and some gentle caresses on his cheek. ‘Hey sleepyhead, dinner’s ready. Wanna come to the kitchen?’ 

The scent of his favorite food was more than enough to make Yuri fully awake, also because, now that tiredness wasn’t a problem anymore, he remembered he was starving, too. The Kazakh was more than convinced that he’d never seen his lover run that fast towards the kitchen. Once they sat down at the table, they began eating, and it was surprising to see such a tiny guy eat that much and that fast.

When they finished their meal, the Russian took a quick refreshing shower and reached his partner on the bed where he’d put on a movie to enjoy a chill night together. However, his sore muscles didn’t agree to that idea and finding a good position turned out to be much harder than expected. The dark haired guy noticed how restless and frustrated his lover was, so he decided to help.

‘Oi Yuri, would it help if I gave you a massage?’ Yuri was a bit taken aback, but he didn’t think it was a bad idea. After all, it was difficult to make his situation worse.

He took his shirt off to give Otabek better access to his aching back and neck, and then he laid on his stomach. The dark-eyed guy put himself immediately to work and began loosening the many knots in the ice skater’s neck. Something didn’t feel right to the Russian, though, he could swear that, while Otabek’s thumbs were actually working, the other fingers were fluttering all over the sensitive spot. Did his boyfriend know what he was doing? Yuri had no idea, so he bit his lip, clenched the sheets and held back the giggles that were threatening to spill.

‘Something wrong, Yuri? You’re supposed to relax, not to get more tense’ ‘Y-yeah sure, you’re doing great, go on’ if he hadn’t been laying face down, the petite guy would’ve noticed the teasy, mischievous and pretty sadistic smirk plastered all over the Kazakh’s face. However, the latter carried on with his massage going down to his back, starting with the shoulder blades and making his way towards the last vertebrae. One thing became more evident, though, the fingers that weren’t massaging were tapping and drumming against Yuri’s ribs and sides, making it difficult for him to stay still.

To Otabek it was endearing how much his partner tried to hide his ticklishness, and, unfortunately for said partner, he wanted more of those cute little reactions. ‘I’m gonna try a different technique, is it alright with you?’ he asked. ‘Yeah yeah whatever, just get on with it...’ to everyone Yuri’s reply would’ve seemed rude, but the shaky tone of his voice gave away his nervousness.

The blonde was not-so-pleasantly surprised when he felt ten fingers delicately stroking up and down his sides and ribs, even daring to go up to the underarms every now and then. ‘T-this ih nohot... a massage’ oh no. The usually snarky boy knew that his defenses were starting to crumble. And his lover was well aware, too. ‘What do you mean it’s not? Are you that ungrateful?’ Otabek fake-gasped dramatically, but at the same time he started wiggling his fingers a bit, increasing the ticklish sensation.

‘Something wrooong?’ how he could be so mean to keep teasing him when cute little squeaks could clearly be heard, was beyond Yuri’s mind. ‘Yohohou exahactly know what!’ he replied trying to sound mad and intimidating (utterly failing at both). ‘Uhmm... nope, no clue at all, sorry...’ the Russian could literally hear the smirk in his lover’s voice. ‘...maybe if I keep doing it, I’ll figure out what it is’ ‘Please wait a minUTEHE- NO!!’

Too late, Yuri’s dorky boyfriend had already begun poking and prodding all around his torso, knowing from experience that a harder touch worked much better on him. ‘Hahahahahahah yohohohou idiohohot stop ihiihit’ the blonde screamed. ‘Not a chance, love, you’ve been so grumpy and stressed out those days, this will help you cheer up’ apparently Otabek didn’t intend to stop anytime soon. In fact, he carried on with his “cheer-up mission” in the sweetest-yet-cruelest way he could.

‘Gohohohoho awahahahahyehehe nahahahaha’ the Kazakh was still squeezing Yuri’s sides when the poor guy started making requests. ‘Okay’ he simply responded... only to begin an awful rib-counting. An awfully ticklish rib-counting.

‘One... two... three...’ oh god, to say that Yuri was going crazy was an understatement. ‘Three... four... fiv-’ ‘Nahahahaha yohou sahahaid threehehe two tihihimehes’ ‘Really now? I must start all over then hehehe’ and back to the base of the ribcage he went. ‘You juhuhust havehehe toho ahahadd onehe to youhur cohohouhunting hahahaha’ the proposition was merely ignored by the evil tickler, who resumed his work without showing any mercy.

In the meanwhile, the blonde was getting more and more distressed, the only problem was that said distress was reflected as anger and sass. ‘Juhuhust add onehehehe ahahare you thahahahat duhumb?!’ now he’d really done it. ‘Oho? Me? Dumb? The audacity...’ It was obvious that the dark-eyed guy wasn’t mad about that insult, but he still took the chance to up his game.

He manhandled the petite ice skater and turned him on his back. When he met his gaze he saw three things: slight embarrassment, a bit of anticipation and... eagerness maybe? 

Otabek winked at him before turning around to scribble lightly on his partner’s knees, just to let him know what was coming. ‘Nohohohohoho dohohohohon’t pleheheheahahahsehehe’ the green-eyed boy was literally a blushing and giggling mess, and he was barely doing anything! ‘Don’t what? I’m really not doing anything this time’ ‘Sohoho yohohouhuhu ahahadmihihit yohohouhuhu knehehew ihihit frohohom thehehe stahart yohouhu ihihidihiOHOHOT NAHAHAHHAHAHA’ Yuri had officially had reached his lover’s limit of patience.

‘Haven’t you learned where your name-calling brings you already? I suppose I have to explain it to you in detail’ this could mean only one thing, the Ice Tiger of Russia was about to receive the tickle of a lifetime. 

The statement proved itself to be totally right, in fact the Kazakh had his fun scribbling all over and behind the blonde’s knees, giving him pokes to make him squeal and doing the egg-crack move, which was killer for him. However, before unleashing this absolute hell on his lover, he stayed still for a good minute, enjoying the adorable little whines Yuri was making because of the anticipation. If it were for him, he would’ve kept him like that forever.

‘HAHAHAHAHAHA BEKAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHO IHIHITS SOHOHO BAHAHAHD PLEHEHEHAHAHASE’ In other circumstances, the taller guy would’ve teased him about his begging, but this time he heard a thing he’d never expected to hear from his lover. ‘What did you call me?’ he asked. On the other hand, the Russian was crimson-red and internally kicking himself for that nickname, so he answered ‘NOHOHOHOTHIHIHING IHIHI DIHIHIDN’T SAHAHAHAY AHAHANYTHIHIHING’ he wanted to be stubborn about that? Unfortunately for him, Otabek was more than fine with that (and maybe slightly hoping to receive such a response from him).

‘Nothing, huh? Very well then, I won’t stop until you tell me’ and he kept his words. He continued his gentle but ruthless assault until Yuri couldn’t take it anymore and decided to tap out. ‘IHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHALLEHEHED YOHOHOUHUHU BEHEHEKAHAHA NOHOHOW STAHAHAP’ The older guy was satisfied with the answer and eventually stopped, admiring the mess who was currently laying on the bed. His hair were ruffled, there were tears in the corner of his eyes and his cheeks were completely flushed. He swore that there wasn’t a more wholesome and heartwarming sight in the whole world.

When the tiny guy recovered from the brutal attack, he said ‘Call me that again please. I love that nickname’. ‘Y-you mean Beka? Come on, it’s so dumb!! How can you like it?’ the blond ice skater was genuinely confused. Wasn’t it too sappy for his lover? ‘Careful with your words, if I hear you say such nonsense ever again, I won’t hesitate to use my methods to prove you wrong’ well, apparently not. Yuri perfectly understood the allusion and decided to not say anything about it.

The couple then remembered about the movie they’d put on, which had already reached the end credits, and decided to turn off the tv and keep cuddling for a while.

After half an hour, Otabek heard some soft snores coming from the tiny figure curled up on top of him, resembling more a kitten than an ice tiger. He smiled fondly and gave him a sweet peck on the forehead, then he turned off the table lamp and reached his lover in dreamland. 

[whats-rambled-rambled]

erode

Neil x Reader

summary: this is what happens when you try to cope with immense heat for way too long  plot what plot 

warnings: 18+ and I mean it, nsfw, teasing, temperature play (listen, I don’t even know, blame it on the weather)

author’s note: I wanted to make it short. They had other ideas. Result? Basically 2,9k words.

I started writing with no particular duo in mind. And at some point I stopped and smiled. 

Hello you two, it’s been a while.

(f!Reader)

The song for this fic is TENDER - Erode

Anyway, enjoy!  ...and let me know what you think, please?

---

“This heat is absurd,” you huff as you flip the pillow to the other side, hoping to find even a degree cooler fabric there.

The cold shower you’ve taken half an hour ago feels like a distant dream, and you’re already drenched in sweat, trying to position yourself strategically to get the most of the small fan placed near the bed. With those crazy temperatures, the chance of getting a stiff neck on the next day seems like a risk worth taking.

“I think I was supposed to kick you in the shin for complaining about warmth,” chuckles Neil and puts down a glass of water on the nightstand, the ice cubes clinking softly. “You're lucky it’s too hot to do so.”

You knit your brows together. It takes you a moment to remember, but then it hits you and you groan. Of course, he brings back something you said during that painfully long stakeout on a freezing December night.

“Why can’t it be just pleasantly warm instead of a variation on The Song of Ice and Fire,” you sigh, taking off the t-shirt. “Fuck climate change deniers, there’s nothing temperate about this climate we’re living in anymore.” You fall back on the pillow, limbs in disarray, longing for a shred of comfort.

With the corner of your eye, you see Neil’s gaze flitting through your body, focusing on the only article of clothing for a second longer.

“You’re one sexy creature.”

His words carry an amused smile and you glance at him, scoffing in disbelief.

“Even when I’m spread out like that?”

“Especially when you’re spread out like that,” he says, moving closer. “Giving me all sorts of ideas”

He leans in for a kiss, but you place a hand on his bare chest, stopping him an inch away.

“Too hot.”

Neil stifles a giggle.“Hot damn?” he chokes out, and you glare at him, but your lips twitch in a smile of their own accord.

“When the temperature drops, I’m gonna give you that hallelujah, or so help me-”

“Promises, promises.” He beams. “I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to give that little sauna fantasy a test run.”

The sole thought of a sauna threatens your sanity right now. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.” A wicked grin creeps on his face. “Or let me just--”

Neil turns away and reaches for the water again, then finishes it with one swig. He nibbles on the bottom lip, clearly excited, as his long fingers fish out a single ice cube from the glass. The blue eyes light up with roguish sparks when he looks at you. Neil quirks a brow in a silent question, and you nod as your pulse picks up the pace.

He closes his hand on the ice for a moment, then slides the cube to his other palm. You sigh with relief as he runs cold and wet fingers across your forehead, then lets them comb your hair, keeping the wild strands away from your face. A soft smile taints his lips as he moves a bit closer, keeping enough distance so the almost feverish warmth of your bodies wouldn’t override everything else. He steals a quick kiss and then he smirks, rolling to the side and propping the head on his knuckles. His darkened gaze glides over your features, taking in the views and inevitably plotting your demise at the same time.

You swallow with effort as the shiver of anticipation runs down your spine.

The ice cube touches the tip of your nose playfully. You are about to huff, but then Neil moves his hand lower and starts slowly tracing the outline of your parted lips, and you can only gasp. Your heat-hazed mind is defenseless, so you close your eyes, allowing yourself to focus solely on the sensation. The dissolving ice trickles down your cheek, the cold droplet tickles and makes you yelp, but when it reaches the neck, Neil shifts and his warmth floods you. You feel his hot breath against your skin as he licks off the wet trail and sucks on that little spot right under your ear. You whine and inhale sharply, ready to protest the sudden closeness, but you hesitate, torn between getting closer to your personal melting point and already craving for more.

Before you can make up your mind, Neil moves away, a smug smile dangling in the corner of his mouth. A tip of his tongue darts through his lips as he catches the exasperation in your stare.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” he purrs and shushes your comeback by simply gliding the ice cube to your chin and down your throat.

Your head arches back and you draw a shaky breath, but the cold point travels lower, skates between your breasts, through your stomach, around your belly button, and moves back up. You glance down, transfixed on the slender fingers holding the glimmering cube.

“All right?”

The husky question commands your attention back to his face. Neil studies your expression closely and a flash of fondness strikes your racing heart.

You smile and your hand flies to cup his cheek, “Yeah, it’s -- oh god,” you groan as the ice flicks your nipple. Neil chuckles and props himself on the elbow so he can pin your hand over your head in one swift move. “Concern as a distraction? How sneaky of you,” you pant, glaring at the self-satisfied grin on his face.

“It worked, innit?” he says and the mischievous lights dance in the blue eyes as they drop back to your chest. You follow them just to see him cruising the ice cube through your breasts, how your nipples harden when it circles them, again and again until you tremble and squeeze your thighs together, biting back a needy moan. “Look at you, squirming already,” he murmurs, amused.

It’s hard to think, let alone form a coherent sentence, so you just glower and grit your teeth. Neil interlocks his fingers with yours, inching closer, and places a small, reassuring kiss on your shoulder. Then, he palms over the cube and carries on. The warmth and pressure of his hand mix with the coldness of the melting ice, and you sigh and lean into his touch, not mindful of the water dribbling down your sides to the sheets.

He traces the curves and flats of your body. Unhurriedly, but persistently moving lower. Grazes the hip bones, then slides along the hem of your panties. You close your eyes as your thighs come together again, trying to control the bucking hips.

He tightens the hold on you as his hand bearing the ice cube moves to your knee.

Neil’s warmth envelops you once again and he whispers into your ear. “Open for me.”

The request wiping any resolve left in your brain and rushing to your pulsing core. You bite your lip to stifle a moan and comply, earning a pleased hum from Neil.

“Good girl,” he rasps as his hand continues its journey upwards.

“Neil--”

Your weak plea only evokes a throaty chuckle, which doesn’t help in the slightest. He knows what he’s doing. What praise like that can do to you. You see it in his predatory gaze, how he enjoys watching you fall apart. And he still is about to touch you where you need him most.

Neil smacks his tongue. “Not so patient today, are we, my love?” he teases, guiding his large hand up and down your inner thighs slowly.

You want to groan in frustration. You want to shut him up with a hungry kiss. You want him. But instead, you muster some of the strength you have left to control yourself, not willing to give him too much satisfaction. Not yet anyway.

He catches the determined look in your eyes and raises a brow. A corner of his mouth curls and you know that the game is on.

Neil hooks his thumb over a band of your underwear. “May I?”

“By all means,” you breathe out and he lets go of your hand so he can pull your panties down and position himself between your legs.

“Christ, how I adore this view.” He flashes his teeth in a brief smile, his features soften when his gaze meets yours. The extent of love and admiration you see there makes your stomach do a somersault. “You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly and the heart sings in your chest. Then, just when you let your guard down, the blue eyes get dark and yearning. “And mine,” he adds as his knuckles resume the caress.

The pure whiplash from his actions shuts your brain down. You whimper and your whole body tenses when the sleek cube glides over your folds. The cold water joins your own wetness. Your head falls back. The heat that is rushing through your veins has nothing to do with the temperature in the room, but it pearls your temple with sweat just the same. A short pause forces you to look down and you catch the wicked grin forming on Neil’s lips. Your end is inescapable.

You watch as Neil puts the ice cube in his mouth and your eyes widen in sudden realization. He dips his head and then swirls his tongue around your clit and you almost cry out, clenching your fists on the sheets. Hot. Cold. Both at the same time. The pulse pounds in your ears as you walk the line, bold strokes and quick flicks driving you to the edge of sanity. His hand moves up your body, partly to hold you in place. But also to add the fuel to the fire that slowly consumes you. You melt into his touch. You moan. And then he slides his finger inside you and reality begins to crumble.

“Oh yes--” you whine, pushing against his hand. “Please.”

You feel him smile against you and the second finger enters you, then they curl slightly and set the rhythm. You roll your hips and reach down to tug at the golden strands, the only praise you’re capable of right now. Neil’s groan vibrates through you, pushing you to the brink of resolution. And then his mouth envelopes you and he sucks on your clit. The pleasure sears your every nerve, tipping you over, and you arch your back and come with a loud moan. You ride out your high, trembling underneath him, digging your fingers into his arms and then pulling on them, driven by a different kind of need. Neil understands and crawls back up to you, licking your wetness off his lips on the way.

“You okay?” he asks, brushing his knuckles against your cheek tenderly and falls on the pillow next to you.

You nod, still incapable of putting words together. Placing the hand on the back of his neck, you urge him closer and kiss him, grunting softly. It’s hard to level your breath like this, making that act of devotion somewhat sloppy. Neil strokes your hair, deepening the kiss just barely. Fixed on bringing you comfort, first and foremost.

And when you pull back, it’s the eyes that betray him. Full of fondness, yes, but also overcast with desire.

How fortunate you already have an idea how to repay him. Not that he expects it - he would never. But he was so rude, teasing you like that.

And you want payback.

You smile and push him back on the mattress to reach over him to his nightstand. You fish out the biggest of the leftover ice cubes from the glass.

Neil shifts upwards slightly, leaning back on his elbows. His mouth parts as he spots your impish grin.

“Oh.”

“Come on, you really thought I’d let that slide?” you say as you straddle him, batting the eyelashes. You look at the glimmering crystal in your hand, then back at him, raising a brow. “Actually--”

You close your fist and move it over Neil’s chest, and he squirms as the cold droplets fall on his skin. You stare at the way his muscles tense when the water trickles down his toned stomach, and a new wave of excitement washes over you.

You lean on to lay a kiss on his lips, this time a more eager one. Neil sighs when your tongue glides against his and you giggle, breaking the contact. Your noses brush together as you exchange greedy looks, barely containing the animalistic need slowly clouding your minds.

“Not so patient, indeed,” you hum, tipping his chin up with your finger so you can suck on his jaw, letting the hand with the cube ghost over the same spot on the other side. Neil shivers and groans in a way that only boosts your confidence. Your mouth travels down his neck, continuing to play a hot-and-cold mirror game with your hand. You pull back as your eyes follow the wet trails again. Your tongue meets the next one halfway and moves up the chest until it lands on the source of the mess. You look up and you see the blue eyes trained on you, so you smirk, hiding the piece of ice in your mouth the same way Neil did not long ago.

The cube pokes from between your lips as they venture across the body you know so well, but rediscover as you learn its reaction to the new sensation. The goosebumps. The way it trembles. The grunts and gasps that follow. You stop just to get rid of the navy boxer briefs on your way.

The sight ever so gratifying.

Neil’s chest heaves as you start stroking him lightly, but it is when you take his tip in your mouth when Neil moans, sending your heart racing again. You taste and tease him until you hear a stifled curse. Then you drop the ice cube into your hand and you rub it up and down slowly, going back to twirling your tongue over him at the same time. Neil jerks, inhaling sharply and lets out a guttural groan.

“How’s that for a payback?” you ask smugly, enjoying how it takes a moment for him to focus his sight on you.

You recognize the predatory gaze a second too late.

Neil shifts and the next thing you know you end up pinned to the bed.

“Wanna play like that?” he rasps, hovering over you with a sinister grin.

You roll your hips against him, eyes lighting up at the sound of a growl building in his throat.

“Just take me already.”

He crashes his lips on yours and it’s your turn to gasp breathlessly. Then, he flips you to your side so you're facing the running fan and he loops his arm around your waist, pressing himself to your back. The moving air against your body helps, but you're way past caring about overheating now.

Neil brushes your hair away so he can kiss the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, his other hand travels south, and you hook one leg over his, squirming impatiently.

"God, you drive me crazy," he breathes into your ear, but before you can assure him how mutual the feeling is, he thrusts into you and you moan together, melting further into each other.

But instead of setting a pace, the reckless fingertips trail between your legs again to rub small circles against your clit, and soon enough you whimper as you clench around him. More. Neil bites on your shoulder and groans, finally giving you what you need. What he needed, too. You bury your fingers in the blonde mane. Tugs urging a quicker pace. You close your eyes, climbing the peak again. His touch roams through your body, and then his rhythm falters, and you take his hand in yours and press it to your chest, lacing your fingers together.

I’ve got you.

Neil tenses and hides his face in your neck, gasping frantically, pulling you as close as he can. His high pushes you over the edge and you join him in the rhapsodic release, losing yourself in the pleasure. In the strong embrace. In him.

When reality regains its sharpness, you shift in Neil’s arms to face him. The warmth of affection spreads through you when you meet the hazed gaze. You smile softly as your fingers trace his features. Parted lips. Sharp jawline. The brows, still knitted together. Your heart aches from fondness when you fix the golden strands stuck to his forehead. 

Happy lights dance in the blue eyes and Neil chuckles, panting lightly. You kiss him, then hug him tightly, not mindful of the heat. Of the sweat. There’s only a heavy heartbeat against your cheek. His scent, ingrained deeply in your mind. The slow, calming strokes on your back. Bliss.

“At least with a sauna we’d have a barrel with icy water, you know,” Neil points out casually. “Or even better - a pile of snow.”

“Oh my god,” you snort, pulling back to look at him. “Imagine that,” you sigh as the heat suddenly hits your senses twice as hard.

He grins, taking you by the hand, and places a small kiss on your knuckles. “May I interest you in a very cold shower instead?”

The corner of your lips twitch.

“Lead the way.”