Monday: A Delightfully Pleasant Start to the Week

[hpfangirl71.livejournal.com]

Hey there, I'm hpfangirl71 and I'm your guest host for the week. I only chose 4 themes for the week and was told to choose another since Wednesday's are now themed as well so I've decided to actually start out with this newly chosen theme. The theme for today is Pleasure. It's quite simple really, just post prompts of all your favorite characters doing something that feels good to them, something that invokes their senses.You can also use quotes, lyrics and whatnot to convey this idea of pleasure. Let it take you where it will and happy writing to everyone!!

The rules are still:

-No more than five prompts in a row.
-No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
-No spoilers in prompts.
-If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space.

Prompts should still look like this:

Fandom, Character+/Character, Prompt
Fandom 1/Fandom 2, Character+/Character, Prompt

Still unsure? Have some examples!

-True Blood, Eric/Sookie, The taste of her blood is really quite erotic.
-One Direction(RPF), Harry/Louis, Louis knows its wrong to introduce young Harry to such perverse pleasures but he really can't help himself now can he?
-Harry Potter, Harry/Draco, Using chocolate to delight Harry's senses.

Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Visit the lonely prompt archive and brighten someone’s day.

tag=pleasure

Comments

[mihnn.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Doctor/Any, Simple pleasures make life worth living.

[mihnn.livejournal.com]

Broadchurch, Alec Hardy, The sea gives him more pleasure than he knows.

[mihnn.livejournal.com]

Sherlock BBC, John+/Sherlock, Hug him or punch him in the face?

[devylish.livejournal.com]

AtS (or BTVS), Angelus, was it his fault that it felt so good?

Warning: Violence. Death. etc.

[leni-ba.livejournal.com]

"You want to know why I do this? It's not too complicated. In fact, it's the easiest answer of all: It feels so good. What do you think?" Angelus pauses to hear the answer in the woman's hitched breathing, the race of a heartbeat going nowhere. He nods in agreement, but doesn't loosen his grip against her scream. "Ah, of course. You're not the first. You think: it's unfair; it's ignoble; it's painful.

"You are right."

"Darling?" Darla drawls from the doorstep. The whimpers of the children have been long quieted, and it is obvious that his lady is bored by the slow development on his side of the house. Her green eyes flick to the woman in his grasp, and her nose furrows in distaste. She's hated every moment that he had courted the little widow, but she also understood that a man needed his diversions. Her patience is now at a low ebb, though. Not even Darla understands his little pleasures. "I am sure she's had plenty of time to regret letting you in. Do us all a favor and finish her."

Her words sound too much like a command for him to do it now. Instead he lifts up the woman until his forehead touches his. Her sweat is cold, but the tears running into his hand are warmer. He licks the bridge of her nose, and tightens his grasp at her shudder. "We don't have to listen to her, do we?" he whispers, leaning back and turning them until she can see Darla.

She wasn't nearly as stiff when he twirled her around the dance floor a week ago. How fickle is the woman.

"Well?" Darla snaps, all impatience.

Sometimes Angelus wonders why he does still keep her company...

At his silence, she searches his face, then looks at the woman between them, and her expression softens. "Unless you are giving her to me?"

...but her little weakness for him keeps him close.

He is about to respond, when the woman in his arms starts fighting in earnest again. A wild thing now; her struggle, the last hope of the damned. He glances down at her, bemused, and sees her eyes fixed on Darla's bodice. "My dear," he says, amused even as he contains his suddenly feral little widow, "perhaps you should have cleaned up before meeting my new friend?"

Darla looks down, and purses her lips at the blood drops now adorning the costly fabric. "Children are so messy," she sniffs.

Angelus laughs. The woman has passed out, at last. Keeping his hand over her nose probably helped. Ignoring the slower tempo of the only heartbeat in the house, he lifts the body in his arms and lays her down on her bed. After a moment's thought, he arranges the bedclothes around her, and steps back to admire his handiwork.

"Well?" Darla snaps, rolling her eyes.

"Now we go," he says, walking to her and offering his arm.

She nods toward the bed. "What about that?"

"She will wake up. She will bury her dead. Perhaps she will kill herself," he guesses. "Not necessarily in that order."

"Such a waste."

Angelus lifts his shoulders, already tired of this conversation. He will need to make haste is order to make up for the dinner he's denying himself. "The theater has lacked true drama this season."

That surprises a laugh out of Darla. "Indeed," she allows. She glances at his face, and his good mood must be contagious because she links her arm through his and allows him to escort him to the door.

[devylish.livejournal.com]

Smallville, Chloe/?, when he slid the needle into her arm, she braced herself for pain; but instead of pain, all she felt was...

[devylish.livejournal.com]

Hansel & Gretel:WH 2013, Hansel/Gretel [yeah so sue me!], Why was this spell, THIS spell, working on them?

[devylish.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Sophie, He likes cooking, and sports, and cars; she likes shopping, art-work, and acting. What the hell could they possibly have in common?

Common Interests

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Sophie hates to cook, but she loves watching Eliot work a stove, steam frizzing his hair as he tenderly pushes layers of flavor into a stew, a sauce, a risotto.

Once, when he lifted a wooden spoon full of cassoulet to her lips, she wrapped her lips around its edge and tasted a memory: a summer in Marseilles, too hot and full of sordid deeds.

She tells Eliot about this summer as he pours a hearty helping into her bowl. It goes without saying that she has never told anyone this before.

--
He doesn't see the point of shopping. But when she calls in a favor because she doesn't feel like going shopping alone, he rolls his eyes and growls that he won't be holding her purse.

It isn't until she's tried on her fourth short dress, a tight black one-shouldered number, that he realizes that he is going to spend their shopping excursion biting his lip at the sight of Sophie's long legs, at the exquisite curve of her hips. And that his growing desire was almost certainly by Sophie's design.

--

She asks him to teach her about American football. Eliot's no fool; he knows Sophie doesn't give a damn about football.

But he explains the game to her, answers her questions. Shows her a good spiral. Shows her how to tackle, shows her how to get tackled.

He lets Sophie tackle him to the ground and then she stays there, pinning his shoulders to the ground as she looks down at him, her intentions clear.

And suddenly, Eliot doesn't give a damn about football either.

--

She wants to go to London to see the Royal Shakespeare Company put on King Lear.

He sighs but accompanies her, and watches as a famous Sir plays a man who has everything become nothing. The set is overdone and the costumes are ridiculous, but is gut-wrenching and utterly, utterly believable.

It makes Eliot think about the day he will be nothing.

After, he kisses Sophie on the cheek as he helps her with her coat. He thanks her for the tickets.

--

She sees Eliot staring at the car, and she should be jealous. He's looking at its body, its lines and curves, almost the way he looks at her.

But she feels benevolent instead. And even though she's a (mostly) reformed thief, she manages to leave the car outside his apartment a week later.

He returns it to its rightful owner. But not before giving it a good ride first.

--

It was something Sophie kept secret -- more secret than her past, more secret than her names.

Sophie used to draw.

Her love of pilfering art came from her artist's eye.

She decided long ago that she wasn't anywhere close to good enough to be one of the great artists, but that she was certainly a good enough grifter to be one of the all time greatest of those.

It wasn't until she (mostly) retired from stealing that she took it up again.

Very reluctantly, Eliot agrees to sit for her. He wears his hair back and sits on a chair in jeans and a tee, tapping his foot impatiently as she sketches.

She does her best to convey the man in the form - his strength and his vulnerability, his danger and his goodness. Raw energy atop a calm self-knowledge, wrapped around a decency, a softness.

When she shows him the drawing, nervously, he stares at it a long time.

"What is it?" she asks.

He looks at her. "I just... never knew that anyone saw me this way."

She smiles, a little sad. "Now you know."

[icarus-chained.livejournal.com]

Author's choice, any +/ any, in the midst of pain and fear, their touch was a simple pleasure

Fill: The Company of Killers (The Following, Mike/Debra)

[helsinkibaby.livejournal.com]

Spoilers for ep 1x12.

*
Mike sits on the gurney in the ambulance, trying to ignore the renewed pain in his side, in his head, from his encounter with Joe Carroll. The paramedics have given him painkillers, the good ones, and he's waiting for them to kick in. He already knows, however, that they're not going to do a thing about the pain in his heart.

Because that pain comes from fear, not just for himself but for the woman who is sitting across from him. Debra holds an ice pack to her nose and when he sees it vibrating the tiniest bit, he knows she's still shaking. Like him, she was caught by surprise by a killer today; Jacob Wells hit her, threatened her, held a knife to her throat and a gun to her head. He saw her eyes, through the plexiglass window, knew how scared she was.

And in his own reflection, he could see how scared he was for her - for them both.

Nothing like the company of killers to make you realise that your casual relationship isn't quite so casual, he thinks.

Slowly, because movement hurts, and carefully, because anyone could walk in, he reaches out, lays a hand on her knee and squeezes gently. She drops the ice pack for a moment, just long enough that he can see the smile that ghosts along her lips. Not for long, because she winces, raises the ice pack again, but for long enough.

She moves one of her hands to cover his and he flinches because it's cold, turns his hand over so that he can grip her fingers properly, warm her up.

In the midst of pain and fear, their touch is a simple pleasure but one they both need, one they are learning to take where they can and hope that it will be enough. 

Some day, he thinks, with this case a distant memory, it will be more than enough. 

[icarus-chained.livejournal.com]

Red (2010), Ivan/Victoria, every tiny glimpse of her is a pleasure reignited after all these years

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward/Winry, The simplicity of holding hands

Fill - The Simple Things

[rei382.livejournal.com]

Spoiler alert to the end of the manga and brotherhood anime









Ed let out a tire sigh, smiling softly when Winry dragged him into yet another mechanics store. He wasn’t a big shopping fan, nor a big mechanics fan. He didn’t like being constantly reminded that he used to need these places every other day when he was a soldier. He still had his automail leg, but that one rarely broke and now, when he led a quiet, calm life it really never did.
However, Winry still loved these places. Automail and mechanics were her passion just like Alchemy used to be his before he gave it up, so he understood her want to see as many of those. He just didn’t understand why it had to take hours every time and eat up the time they had together, making them end up hasting their dinner and rushing back home with the last train.
“Look it’s a brand new model!”
He turned his look towards where his girlfriend was looking. She was currently glued to a glass window that showed an automail hand. In Ed’s opinion, there was nothing special about it – just a hand made of metal. It didn’t even look as cool as the one he used to have.
“It’s the millennium turbo 103! I read about it in a magazine! It has five different states and weights about half as the one before it – you know, like the northern kind! Ohhh Ed this is soooooo exciting!”
Ed rolled his eyes and was about to say something when he felt Winry’s warm hand grabbing his and squeezing it lightly with excitement. He looked up at her, and suddenly realized how strange it was to be here, looking at automail. He smiled and squeezed her hand back, enjoying the feeling of palm against palm, the tenderness of her skin and the way her fingers entangled with his own. Two years ago, he wouldn’t be able to feel that. She’d hold his right hand and all he’d feel would be a light pull on the connections. He could never really be sure he wasn’t holding her back too tight, even though she never once complained, always smiling at him.
“Yeah, it sounds really cool. Maybe you could build something like this for one of your customers,” he said with an honest smile. With these thoughts in mind, suddenly he didn’t mind looking at automail so much. He didn’t care that it reminded him of what he used to be, didn’t care that he still had a scar to remind him of how stupid he was to try Human Transmutation, didn’t care to be reminded of how crippled he used to be. On the contrary, he was actually thankful of the reminder now, as he was holding Winry’s hand. It made him appreciate it, the mere fact that he could feel her warmth and the tiny movements of her muscles as she moved. It was a simple thing, yet to him, after five years of not having his flesh arm, it was everything.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Tombstone, Doc Holliday+Any, What's your pleasure?

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

The X-Files, Scully(+any), Bad movies and popcorn on a rainy day

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Fullmetal Alchemist, Alphonse+Edward+Winry, Having his missing three senses back is a pleasure beyond any dreams.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any, any, just to feel the heat of the sun on my back. That is true qleasure.

Fill: Final Fantasy VII

[tinamachina.livejournal.com]

Cloud underestimated how long they had all lived under the disc of Midgar.

Once they had all fled the city, and ran as far away as they could before Shinra troops lost them, Tifa stopped. She looked up at the sky.

Aerith stopped and looked up, too. The sky was brilliant clear blue. The skies above Midgar had an odd greenish tint, even on a cloudy day. Not that many people in the lower sections saw the sky often, obstructed by the upper plate that held the well-to-do above the lower classes.

The sun was out. Tifa and Aerith tilted their faces upward, feeling the heat and light against their skin. Even Barrett gave an appreciative glance upwards, shielding his eyes. Red XIII seemed to purr under the sunlight.

Cloud was a little anxious to keep moving, “Come. We can’t stop.”

Aerith strode alongside Cloud, “To finally feel the sun on my back and on my face. You don’t know how nice that feels.”

The side of Cloud’s mouth turned upwards just a little.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any fandom/any video game, any, the satisfaction of getting through a tricky level

Fill: Big Bang Theory, rated PG-13 for innuendo

[tinamachina.livejournal.com]

Sheldon was perturbed. There were some very disconcerting noises coming from Leonard’s room.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Penny carnal grunting could be heard through the closed door.

“That’s it, baby! Keep going!” And there was her cheerleader, Leonard.

Sheldon was not pleased, not pleased at all.
Whatever unspeakable acts were going on in that room are a clear violation of the Roommate Agreement.

“Yes…yes…” Penny was screaming.

“A little more to the left…there, there, that’s it!” Leonard was practically squealing.

Sheldon was not going to put up with this. He was not going to put up with the nauseating cries of passion that could be clearly heard in the common area. Sheldon rose from his seat and approached Leonard’s room just as a united cry of “YES!” carried through the door. Sheldon was just about to knock, but then the door flew open.

“LEVEL 169 OF CANDY CRUSH SAGA…CRUSHED!” A jubilant and unexpectantly fully-dressed Penny bounded from the room, thrusting her fists downward.

“I knew you could do it, baby!” Leonard, also fully dressed but a little sweaty, cheered.

“Who the Candy Crush mama!” Penny demanded.

“You the Candy Crush mama!” Leonard replied, a little awkwardly.

“SAY MY NAME, BITCH!”

A frustrated Sheldon was already out the door.

[oteap.livejournal.com]

Pacific Rim, Herc Hansen, man of simple pleasures

[idiosyncratic.livejournal.com]

Herc doesn't ask for much in his life. He learned long ago that wishes are rarely granted and fairy tale endings aren't. But there are a few things he treasures, things that get under his skin and remind him why they fight.

Things he tries to teach Chuck through the drift.

A cup of good coffee (black, no sugar, thanks) first thing in the morning. The way the aroma wraps around you and seeps in even before that first scalding sip hits your tongue.

A glass of good whiskey, savoring that first mouthful as it rolls over the tongue and eases down the throat. The way it explodes in your belly, spreading tendrils of warmth through you.

A cool, ocean breeze on a hot day. The way it caresses your body, ruffles your hair. It can leave a man invigorated when he thinks he's taken his last step and just can't take another.

A woman's soft touch (or a man's, Herc doesn't judge and he knows Chuck's predilections). The way it lingers on your skin, raising a chill, making you shiver all over in a good way. A light, easy exploration that is lush and sensuous and beautiful.

A child's laughter, because there isn't enough of it anymore in a world full of kaiju and Jaegers. The way their eyes light up and the way they laugh with their whole body, dissolving into cackles of glee at the littlest things. He has a recording, still, of Chuck doing just that when he was four.

It's the simple things in life that he loves the most. The simple things that make him feel alive. The simple things that are worth preserving in a world gone mad with fear and desperation.

And when he sees Chuck with Max, sees the simple pleasure his son takes in the bulldog's company, Herc can't help but smile. Because it's just one more of the little things.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Any, any/any, not sex, but good sex and basking in the afterglow

Fill : Afterglow (CSI: Vegas, Greg/Morgan)

[helsinkibaby.livejournal.com]

Notes: the whole "afterglow" thing may have escaped me a little...

*

"We should have done this years ago."

Greg makes that pronouncement as the early afternoon sunlight peeks through a crack in the blinds, slanting across the room and bathing the smooth skin of Morgan's back in a golden glow. Lazily, he runs his fingers up and down her spine, grins at the goosebumps he sees rising on her arms with every move he makes. 

Slowly, she lifts her head from its pillow on his chest; the net effect being that her face is now suffused by the same glow. He knows it's just because of the sunlight but he's hopeful (vain?) enough to think that just a little bit is to do with him. Her hair tickles his skin as it falls in soft waves around her face and there have been so many times in the last couple of years that he's wanted to run his fingers through it but knew it wasn't his place. 

It's his place today and it feels better than he ever could have imagined. 

"No argument here," she tells him with a smile before she lowers her lips to his in a kiss that is innocent and moves her body against his in a way that is anything but. She breaks the kiss far too soon for his liking and when she speaks, she's got a teasing look in her eyes that he recognises from untold crime scenes. "I think that's the longest I've ever heard you not talking," she observes. "I often wondered what it would take..."

Greg raises an eyebrow, shrugs with one shoulder - his other hand is still tracing patterns on her back. "What can I say?" he asks. "You make words superfluous."

She gives him a look that's half teasing, half impressed as she glances at the clock. "Four syllables already, impressive. I'd hoped to leave you speechless for a little longer..."

Her fingers are making their way down his body and he grins, enjoying her shriek of laughter as he flips them over so that she's on her back underneath him. "The day is young," he reminds her.  "Do your worst."

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

Tortall, Kel +/ Owen, hunting bandits together is jolly.

[classics-lover.livejournal.com]

MCU, Darcy/any, making music together

MCU/DCU Darcy/Jason

[quitehopeless.livejournal.com]

A/N: Um, this isn't quite what the prompt says, but I loved the idea of Jason watching Darcy dance and wanted to do the second meeting/tasing, so here it is.

---

She had headphones on and was dancing her way through the street with her own music in her ears and beat in her hips, and Jason had to fight a smile when he saw her. She reminded him of that chick from New Year's, the one with the footie pajamas and Mad Hatter hat. The one with the taser.

Dick would laugh if he heard that. He wouldn't leave Jason alone for a minute if he knew.

Love at first tasering, he kept calling it.

Dick was such a dick.

The girl had some moves, though. Nice ones. And a nice body.

He shrugged. It didn't matter. He didn't have time for this. He had other places to be.

“It's you.”

She'd stopped dancing and was looking at him, headphones in her hand, and while that was no Mad Hatter hat on top her head, that little mushroom thing was better, a whole hell of a lot cuter. “I told your friend with the nice ass I could get you to take off the mask.”

Jason frowned. “Why would you want to do that?”

“To see how cute you are.”

“Lady, you're crazy.”

She grinned. “So, you gonna show me or what?”

“Depends. You gonna give me a dance if I do?”

She frowned. “Lap dance or dance dance?”

“Either. Both. Definitely both.”

“I like you,” she said with a smile. “Well, other than the whole gun thing. It's not that I'm scared of them—well, not that scared, but you know, side of caution and everything—so I always have this with me—”

“Nice taser,” Jason said. “I prefer this.”

Showing her the gun was a bad idea, one he hadn't thought through until she tased him. Jason went down hard, but this time he swore he heard music when he did.

[nevcolleil.livejournal.com]

Chuck, Chuck/Bryce, your standard 'fuck or die' scenario except Chuck can't relax enough to make the experience anything but unpleasant for him and Bryce is horrified to realize that this doesn't lessen his own pleasure

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Avengers, Steve/any human, he finally found someone who shares his love of diner food

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Chuck, Chuck/any, nothing can ever be as enjoyable as reliving the things he enjoyed as a teenager -- and that's a problem for his lover

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Haven, Duke/Nathan(/Audrey), Duke misses Nathan being able to feel him

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Any, any, nothing feels as good as listening to getting lost in the sound of their favorite song

[daria234.livejournal.com]

NCIS:LA, Sam/G, G loves it when Sam does this to him