#of including his dark circles and the inner ear details

[canisalbus]

.

#look what the cat dragged in #strong contender for the tiniest scantiest measliest Machete #I think it's terribly cute that he's the size of a cricket but you still went through the trouble #of including his dark circles and the inner ear details #putting him in a box of tic tacs for safekeeping #thank you! #gift art #peteytheparrot #own characters #Machete

[360iris]

Wanna Be Down (George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley)

Warnings: Pure smut! She/her pronouns for the reader! No funny business between the boys I promise! There’s bound to be some typo that I missed, sorry ‘bout that!

Word count: 1,628

Summary: There’s a birthday, a bunny costume and The Twins... What could go wrong?

A/N: This was originally meant to drop on their birthday, April 1st... I’m 28 days late for that but hey, better late than never! It’s been collecting dust for the entire time and I wanted to set it free. I hope someone enjoys it!

“You want me to- to wear a bunny outfit and have the two of you…” You faltered nervously, the words seemed foreign on your tongue.

“-fuck you in it.” Fred finished for you with a wide grin, as if this was the most in the ordinary activity to plan.

The twins wanted to sleep with you? This was the first you’d heard of it, that’s for sure. And though the thought sent waves of excitement through your body, the prospect was daunting.

You’d been friends since diapers, a meager six hours separating your births. And whether the bond that formed later was predetermined by fate, or by pure chance, it was wholly indestructible.

Through the years, the three of you operated perfectly insync. Remaining quite persistently glued at the hip; completing every task deemed worthy enough as an odd unit.

There was an unspoken rule that each of you would make sure that the others felt equally included in activities.

So why should taking your virginity be any different?

“We’ll be twenty in a few hours, Y/N. Don’t you want to kick off the new decade with a bang?” George asked, his face genuine and voice laced with just the right amount of sweetness. He always did know how to persuade you into going along with Fred’s crazy schemes.

“Quite literally in this instance.” Fred added cheekily and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Both of you have had sex before though. Plenty of times in fact! You told me about it afterwards! In vivid detail at that! Why are you so worried about me now?” Your brows were furrowed, lips turned downwards in a pout.

Sitting criss-cross on your bed, you tugged one of the many pillows on your bed into your lap. Squeezing it tighter when you met their gazes again.

Fred had his hands tucked into his jean pockets, happy as ever. He acted as if it was only a matter of time before he’d get the answer he wanted.

George on the other hand, at least looked like he was having a conversation with you; and not like he was just waiting for you to realize you’d never actually said no to them before. His eyes were soft, assessing your demeanor before approaching your spot at the foot of the bed.

“You know you’re our favorite girl. Don’t you, Y/N?” He questioned and you suddenly felt smaller looking directly up at him. Ginger waves caressing his cheeks and pooling at his shoulders.

“I mean- I suppose.” You replied dumbly.

“Who do we always come back home to?” He asked again, his left hand lifting up from his side to comb through your hair. The pads of his fingers brushing against your cheek as they went.

“Me.” Your answer was hushed, though it was only the three of you in the flat. They’d closed the shop downstairs hours ago.

“And who trails after me as much as she can during the day, practically jumping into my lap the first opportunity she gets?” His voice was getting lower and his gaze remained fixed to you, you tried your best not to squirm.

“M- Me.”

“Lastly, whose the babygirl that slips into my bed at three in the morning because she stays up too late and gets scared?” He was teasing you now, you knew it, but still gave him a reply.

“Me, George.” Both of his hands were cupping your face now, fingertips laced in your hair, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“So when I ask my favorite girl to put on the outfit I picked out for her, so I can make her feel good on her birthday, what do you think I want to hear back?” A single brow arched as he waited for your answer, ignoring Fred’s quiet “I helped choose it too, y’know.”

Wrapping your fingers around his wrists, you thought about all the times he and Fred had slept with other girls. How deep down you’d wished they’d looked at you the same way.

He allowed you to remove one of his hands, a dark smirk splitting across his face when you’d slowly brought it between your legs. Only coming to a stop when he was cupping your heat.

“I think- I think I’ve been holding out for you.” It was no higher than a whisper, but it’d been the truth nonetheless. He smiled wider at this confession, leaning in and pressing a light kiss on your forehead.

“All the more reason not to disappoint.” He responded, you faintly registered rustling from behind him.

“Y/N, dear?” Fred called.

“Hm?”

“Time to put the outfit on.”

It’d been relatively easy to slip into the get-up. The bodysuit, wrist cuffs and neck piece fitting like a glove.

“When did you get my measurements?” You asked, looking down at yourself.

“Since when have we not had your measurements?” Fred laughed, pulling you onto the bed with him until your back was flush against his chest. Your head comfortably leaning back on his left shoulder.

George following after you, settled for sitting up in front of you, his knees digging into the pink duvet.

“The ears are a nice touch.” He remarked with a pleased smirk. “Don’t you agree, Fred?”

“Absolutely. All white suits her.” He replied matter-a-factly, hands already roaming your torso. Ghosting over your exposed thighs, he hooked a finger under the bikini line of the bodysuit and let it snap back into place. Your hips jutted outwards at the impact.

“Want to hear you ask for it, Y/N.” George was palming your calves, making you feel small again.

“What do you want me to say?” Your brows furrowed curiously at the request, breath hitching when he utilized his grip to pull you further down Fred’s chest. Your ankles eventually hooking against George’s shoulders.

“Want him to play with your little cunt, don’t you baby?” Fred asked from above you, heat rushing to your face at his words.

“Y- Yeah.”

“Then ask, darling.” He grinned at your eyes widening as you met his gaze upside down.

Turning your attention back to George, you absentmindedly bit at the end your thumb nervously. Sure you’d used curse words like anyone else in the world, but the thought of actually asking the twins to fuck you was on a level you’d never thought you’d reach.

“Georgie?” You tried carefully.

“What is it, baby?” He replied softly, a smile playing on his lips, patiently waiting.

“Want- Want you to make me feel good.”

“How?” He prompted, delighting in your fidgeting. Fred however wasn’t feeling as patient, sending a soft smack to your inner thigh.

“Don’t have all day, bunny.” He chided, slowly massaging the site.

“Want your cock, Georgie.” You finally relented, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in your hands, but you feared being spanked again by Fred. 

George rewarded you with a kiss, palming your clit through the material. He swallowed up every whimper that escaped your lips, only answering by expertly thumbing the area faster. 

“Let’s see how wet you are, bun.” Fred whispered, pulling the bodysuit aside to reveal your heat. Running a finger through your folds, he promptly brought it to your mouth. Smirking widely when you began meekly sucking at the digit.

“I’m gonna get you ready, okay sweetheart?” George asked, mouthing at your neck. He didn’t move until you garbled something close to “okay” through Fred’s fingers sadistically pressing down your throat.

Armed with plenty of lube, the first finger sliding into you felt like nothing. By the third, he resorted to distracting you by rubbing your bud to ease the initial stretch. Although nothing could have prepared you for how uncomfortable taking his tip was.

It was a slow process, full of the boys tenderly guiding you to breathe deeply and relax your muscles. With the abundance of their attention focused on outweighing the discomfort with pleasure, eventually the mild pain began to blur around the edges. 

The level of satisfaction that rolled over you when you’d finally reached the hilt was like no other. 

“Good girl.” Fred purred into your hair as George wiped away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “Took it like a champ, didn’t she, Georgie boy?”

“Sure did, Fred. Squeezing me so nicely too.” He replied smiling proudly.

“Full- So full.” You whimpered blearily, not sure which boy you were grasping for. Each accepted one of your wandering hands, giving them an encouraging squeeze.

“You’re doing so well, babygirl. How about you let me make you feel good now, hm?” George’s voice was gruff as he patiently waited for you to nod back in response.

Soon the discomfort had melted away, leaving only the easy slide of George’s length and the gratification of being engulfed between the loves of your life. 

You promptly got lost in the jumble of mouths, hands and pleasure. 

“Gonna come for us, love?” George asked, holding your hips done to focus his thrusts. 

“Can I- Can I, please? Please let me come!” You whined desperately, unable to distinguish whose hands belonged to who.

“Go ahead, bunny.” George answered and it was all you needed to hear. Your visioned blurred as your toes curled, the only thing you could register was that he was fucking you through it. Fred’s fingers circling your clit didn’t let up until you were pathetically trying to pull at his wrist.

A weak mewl fell from your lips as George pulled out of you spent. Simpering under his praises, you closed your eyes. 

The sudden smack against your face was sobering, leaving you blurrily blinking up at Fred’s eager grin.

“I hope you didn’t think you were off the clock, bun.”

#the weasley twins #the weasley twins x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader x george weasley #fred and george #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter fic #hp #hp fanfic #hp smut #hp imagine

[notnctu]

haechan: the cocky | vol 2

━ welcome home to the housemating smut series :)

☆ click the link above to read background info about this housemate!

☆ GENRE: smut, pwp ☆ DETAILS: fem!reader, college!au, housemate!au ☆ WARNINGS: explicit language, dirty talking, nicknames, dom!hyuck, penetration, oral (giving & receiving), slight degradation?, mentions of exhibitionist kink? ☆ WC: 3.6k  ☆ SYNOPSIS: after receiving haechan’s text messages, you hurry up to his room and the sexual tension is thicker than you can ever imagine. 

☆ AUTHORS NOTE: read vol 1 here if u havent already :) theres no plot yall its just smut,, this one a filthy one ha ha skjdhfgieas

When you enter Haechan’s room, his back faces you as he sits comfortably in his expensive gaming chair, clicking furiously at his mouse and practically abusing the poor device. “Why are you so worked up?” Your voice causes him to perk up, removing an ear from his headset. 

“Mark fucking sucks at this game.” Haechan rolls his eyes as he speaks directly into his mic and Mark’s tiny muffled voice shouts back at him. 

Leaning into Haechan’s face, his eyes leave his monitor momentarily to intently watch your actions. Your fingers grab hold of the built in mic and speaking lowly, you greet the other boy through the receiver. “Hi Mark.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow at your seductive tone and the happy smirk on your face when you hear Mark stammer back a faint, “h-hello, y/n.” 

“Mark, I gotta go.” Before even letting Mark protest and throw a fit, he’s hanging up the call and forfeiting his winning streak to finally finish what you two had started. You’re laying on Haechan’s bed with eyes that eat him right up, a look of lust and desire. 

His gaze bounces between the open door and the way your thin shirt does absolutely nothing to hide how erect your nipples have become. His signature face of disbelief: tongue in cheek and rolling his eyes, paired with a small scoff. 

“What? Are you cold or something?” He snickers, getting up to close the door.

“No... I’m just..” Propping up on your elbows, you glance briefly down at your shirt and then, away at the ground shamelessly. 

“Aroused? Turned on?” Haechan taunts as he leans down to hover above you, his fingers toying with the ends of the thin fabric. As much as you’re trying to avoid eye contact, he doesn’t allow for you to shy away for long.

“Maybe.” You gulp the pooling spit in the back of your throat, the tension rising in the room. “I came upstairs like you told me too.” Pouting, he finally has you fixated on him with a thumb on your chin. 

Making eye contact with him is not only incredibly intimate, but there is something mesmerizing and comforting in the way Haechan looks at you. “Right, my good girl did what she was told. How much longer can she keep that up?” His whisper is hot against your skin, but he doesn’t lean in any more. 

“Don’t test me, Hyuck.” You snap back gently, crossing your arms across your chest and almost immediately, Haechan pushes you lightly onto the bed. You yelp at the boldness, knowing that your bratty side might have edged him on.

“Hyuck....? Baby, we haven’t even started yet.” He smirks, and you wish for nothing more than to wipe it off his face. He has the absolute confidence to play with you all night if he wanted to. Cocky motherfucker. 

“Do something, please.” The whine in your voice catches his attention, only fueling his ego more than it has already inflated. 

“What does my pretty baby want me to do?” Haechan has the full audacity to sit back in his chair, legs spread wide and arms resting behind his head. He’s left you on the bed practically untouched, yet the moment you sit up, a small pool of wetness rushes in your panties.

He’s done nothing, but your body reacts to him too strongly for you to admit. “I want you to give me a kiss.” You mumble.

However, Haechan leaves no room for a pause. “Speak up.” His voice is low and dark as he watches you squirm in your shorts, your legs rubbing together for some friction. He just loves how needy he can get you to be.

“Give me a kiss.” A little louder this time, all the while being mindful at how thin the walls are. Haechan patiently waits for you to finish your beg, “please.”

He pats his lap for you to come sit, then opens his arms to invite you into his embrace. Your legs fall on either side of his thighs and his hands rests on your waist. Haechan peers up at the pout that hasn’t left your face and gently smiles. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

There’s a sense of rivalry when he uses that nickname, holding less of a soft implication than when he calls you baby. “You’re taking forever.” You groan, rocking against him with a frustrated whine.

However, he holds you steady by your hips and chuckles mockingly, “it wouldn’t be fun if I just gave it to you. I’m giving you more of an experience to remember the next time you want to rub one out.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fast forwarding these parts in my brain.” Rolling your eyes, your hands find themselves lightly on his chest. He feels rather solid through his black shirt, “you’ve been bulking up?”

“Yeah. Can you tell? Johnny has been waking my ass up early in the morning to go to the gym with him because Jaehyun has class.” Haechan presses you up against his torso and you’re impressed at how sturdy he feels.

“So that’s why we have two jugs of protein powder taking up counter space. Doyoung and I were concerned at how much the other two were consuming, but I guess the portion includes you now.” Your hands wrap around his neck to pull him unbelievably closer, the tips of your noses touching now.

Haechan stares at you with hooded eyes and breath mixing with your own. “What does it taste like?” Your question seems to hold a sexual innuendo, or it could be the tension in the air as you both try your hardest from devouring each other’s lips right then and there.

“Mmh, tastes like shit. Rather taste something else instead.” Haechan licks his lips and tilts his head only slightly. His mind is clouded with lustful, heavy thoughts of feeling your plushy lips against his own. And the possible taste of your tongue lapping with his brings him much excitement as well. 

“Should I try some?” The power has slightly shifted into your hands as Haechan seems to be in a trance from your proximity and sensual drop in tone. But you’re both wrapped up in each other’s scent of shampoo and it’s enough to drive you both hungry for one another. 

“Want your lips around something else.” His thumb pulls your bottom lip down just gently before slipping it into your open mouth. Your tongue circles his finger, slowly sucking to mimic the feeling of his cock. It sends tingles down to your lower abdomen and a small moan erupts from the back of Haechan’s throat. 

Something pokes at your inner thigh and without needing to look down, you already know how turned on Haechan has gotten. He won’t be able to wait it out anymore. “So pretty.” Haechan coos as he drops his finger from your lips. “Do you still want your kiss, baby?” 

“Of course.” You lean in thinking that Haechan is going to finally give you a good smooch on the lips, but he picks you up and tosses you onto the bed. He’s discarding your shorts and underwear, peeling it off your legs and tossing it somewhere in a corner. 

He spreads your legs wide open, “holy fuck, you’re dripping.” And you’re so close to telling him to stop exaggerating until he gathers slick from your hole and it unleashes a small waterfall cascading onto the bed sheets. “Since when were you this easily aroused?” 

Before you can retaliate, Haechan softly kisses your clit and slowly licks a long strip up your cunt. You arch into him, his lips pressing against you just a bit harder than the first time. Eyes are locked in on yours as he flicks delicate licks at your bundle of nerves. “Good girls get the best kinds of kisses.” 

He will never be able to get enough of your taste or your legs squirming at the jolts of pleasure that run down them. The fact that stands is that Haechan inexplicably loves pleasuring women and performing cunnilingus, that’s undeniable. But there’s something very special about the way your body reacts to his smallest gestures and sensual words, so responsive and almost like, your body knows how much it wants him. 

And if you two hadn’t been so cordial and polite about living with each other in the beginning and considerate of your other housemates, he would’ve fucked you a long time ago. It always felt as if Haechan was walking on thorns around you, making sure he didn’t cross the lines of making you feel uncomfortable. 

Nonetheless, your pajama shorts do a terrible job at covering you up or the small moments when your shirt would ride up your stomach, he always found his stares to linger. And not to mention, all the moments he has walked by to catch a glimpse of you masturbating. Truthfully, he’d been masturbating to the thought of you too and only to find out that you shared the same interest in him. 

You suppress your moans with your hand, afraid to risk the chance of getting caught by your other housemates. Nevertheless, your muffled moans encourage him to lick harder, building a quick rhythm. “Hyuck, please fuck me.” 

It’s agonizing the more he edges you closer to your release. Haechan is addicted to lapping your endless flow of juices that he almost chooses to ignore your breathless plea. He lets go and the knot of pleasure in your stomach dissipates for the time being, your chest rising and falling rapidly to catch your breath.

“I thought you lost your ability to speak for a second.” Haechan doesn’t mean it as a joking statement, it’s meant to instill slight humiliation in you and with a bit of a teasing tone in his darkness.

You don’t take his words to heart, “I can speak and I know what I want.” Your voice is brighter than before, until Haechan’s grin turns mischievous and he’s plotting his next few words carefully. 

“Use your smart words and tell me what you want then.” Taking off his clothes, his shaft slaps against his stomach with an angry red tip leaking precum.

The sight of his dick has you clenching around nothing and it’s obvious where your focus has shifted to. You mindlessly take off your shirt, “for a computer science major, you sure like words a lot.” 

“For someone who’s ruining my sheets, you sure like to verbally under compensate how much you want me.” Haechan rubs his tip at your entrance to gather lubrication, a small whine escapes his lips as he’s trying his best to hold back from ramming into your wet cunt.

“Hyuck, please. I want you to fuck me speechless.” A sparkle catches in his eye as he’s gleaming at how the dirty words spill from your pretty mouth. Pulling you up, he holds your head steady and lightly taps your lips with his tip.

“Speechless? I guess you won’t be able to whine with my dick in your mouth.” And slowly, you invite his hot shaft into your warmth and the saltiness hits your palette. A long string of profanities fill the air when you lick the underside of his tip and hollow your cheeks to suck more of him.

“Do you think you can take the whole thing?” He moans and it shocks you how raspy his voice suddenly got. His hand is rests on the back of your head lightly, patting and smoothing your hair lovingly. If it isn’t for that lost lustful look in his eyes that represent an innocent curiosity, you wouldn’t have awarded his request. 

Opening your throat, he slowly guides you further down his length. Haechan’s reactions are ungodly satisfying as he throws his head back toward the ceiling and instantly tightens his grip in your hair. 

“Fuck, fuck. Okay, I’m done messing around.” He manages to chuckle playfully, pulling you off his dick as a string of saliva draws from the disconnect. Pulling you by your hair, he tilts your head upward at him and he leans down to kiss you: open mouth, tongues lapping, spit mixing.

The kiss ignites a flame in your chest being that it’s probably one of the hottest kisses you’ve ever experienced. Haechan’s dominance is caring, yet strong enough to remind you just how rough he has the ability to be. 

“Lay on your side.” You do as you’re told as Haechan unravels a condom to slip on. A feeling of excitement bubbles up in your core, you’re finally getting fucked. It’s not the first time you and Haechan have done penetration, but it’s definitely not enough times to satisfy your lust for him.

With your body facing the door, Haechan lays down behind you, a hand on your hip to press your ass against his shaft. “How cute. We’re spooning.” He taunts menacingly and reaching around to rub your swollen clit. 

You yelp and Haechan covers your mouth instantly. You’re a moaning mess in his hands as his fingers work magic stimulation down below. Every squirm has you bumping your ass up into his hard on. 

Just as his tip enters your wet hole, a knock on the door has you both halting your movements. Your heart is racing at the interruption and it’s not going to look too good with Haechan’s dick barely up your cunt and hand hovering over your clit. There will be no lie that can get you two out of this naked situation.

“Haechan, can I borrow your speaker?” It’s the voice of Jaemin. Of all the times that he actually comes home, you’re midway having sex with Haechan. 

It doesn’t seem to bother Haechan though, maybe a bit agitated that someone interrupted the tension, but overall he doesn’t seem phased. Then, you remember all the times you’ve knocked on the other boys’ doors during their hookups and it’s gotten to the point that no one really cares. “For what!?” 

“To use in the shower.” A jiggle on the doorknob panics you, but Haechan is lifting your leg in the air and enters you fully without a warning. You bite back a moan as Haechan buries his face into your neck. The initial stretch from his girth stings with pleasure and you relax into him when you adjust to his size. “Why is your door locked?” 

“Fuck, is this making you more wet?” Haechan whispers lowly into your ear and a smile grows against your skin.

“Shut up.” You mumble, clenching around him every time Jaemin tries to open the door. He starts moving his hips into you, long thrust that jolt your body every time he enters. 

Haechan laughs, “it’s in the bathroom already, leave me alone! I’m with someone.” He’s looking down at your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the tight grip you have on the sheets. You feel all of him, his cock fills you up to the brim, grazing upon your sweet spot. 

Jaemin scoffs on the other side, “okay. Use protection, kids.” And his shadow disappears from under the door. Haechan removes his hand and his hot moans fill your ears.

“No wonder why you leave the door fucking open. You want us to see you, don’t you?” His hips ram harder into your pussy, rougher and faster than before. The soreness begins to occupy your lower regions from how much Haechan stretches you. His dirty words aid you closer to your release. “Imagine if I didn’t lock the door and Jaemin saw me balls deep in you. You’d like that, huh? What a slut.” 

Your legs feel like jelly as a familiar exhilaration surges through your limbs. “Speechless now, aren’t you?” Haechan smirks and drops your leg. Hands hold you by your waist as he bottoms out, his balls slapping your thigh slightly. Once he’s nestled in deep, he starts rubbing circles on your clit once again and you’re squeezing around him so well that he doesn’t need to move. 

The added sensation brings you to your edge, along with the feeling of fullness. Without a fail, he always makes sure he takes care of you first. “I’m gon-- cum.” Words are jumbled in your scattered, empty brain. The release is on the tip of your tongue, the tips of your toes, Haechan’s rhythm on your bud doesn’t falter.

“Cum on my dick, baby. I want to feel you lose control.” His final encouragement leads you to your demise as your pussy clenches around him sporadically and your legs shaking from the pleasure. But it doesn’t stop, Haechan starts fucking you through your orgasm, so fast that it almost has you crying out of the intensity. His nails dig into your skin. 

“Oh-- shit! Hyuck, I--” Haechan slams your hips down to match his and you’re holding onto the sheets for your life. The toe curling pleasure overwhelms you and you can’t tell, but you’re cumming again. It just never seems to stop.

With a last grunt and full thrust, you feel his dick pumping inside your walls. He kisses your shoulder tenderly and smooths over the moon crescents he left, “shit. I’m sorry for calling you out like that.”

“It’s fine. It was hot.” He pulls out and an emptiness disappoints you. Turning around to face him, you latch on and give him the biggest hug. “But I really just am forgetful! I don’t leave it open on purpose....”

“Baby, you say that, but do you also forget that you live with five other horny men?” He kisses your temples and sits you both up.

“That’s why I do it when you guys aren’t home.” Getting up, you start putting on Haechan’s shirt and slipping on your panties. “Do you think Jaem is done showering?”

“Probably, that guy uses 2 in 1 shampoo and body wash so he just lathers and rinses.” Haechan ties the condom and tosses it into the trash can. He slips on a pair of fresh briefs and starts removing his soiled bed sheets. “Come back and help me make my bed when you’re done.” 

Nodding, you slyly walk out of Haechan’s room. You turn the knob as quietly as you can and shut the door softly. When you spin around, Jaemin walks down the hall with a towel around his naked shoulders and his black hair wet from his shower. His toned body is glistening with droplets as his sweatpants hang low on his hips and the waistband of his underwear peek out. 

You’re so distracted by his appearance that you don’t realize he’s caught you leaving Haechan’s room. “Is that Haechan’s shirt?” He quizzes you, a smirk twitching his lips automatically at your doe eyed expression. “And are you not wearing pants, y/n?” 

“I see you’re done with your shower.” You say quickly and you dash away to the bathroom. The moment you shut the door, you’re surprised by a random girl on the toilet.

“Sorry!” You both yell, covering your eyes at the sudden intrusion on both ends. 

“I didn’t realize there wasn’t a lock on the door.” She says and you turn to face the door to give her some privacy.

“Yeah, it’s been broken for awhile now. We usually just put a sticky note on the door to show that it’s preoccupied.” You don’t even question who she is, denoting that it’s either Jaehyun or Johnny’s lady friend. “I’ll just wait outside.” 

“Wait, do you live with Johnny?” She asks and truthfully, you’re not ready to go back outside in any chance that you’ll bump into Jaemin again. The bathroom is where you intended to hide until enough time is passed, while also doing your business. 

“Yeah. We’re housemates.” 

“Ah, that’s comforting to know that there’s another girl here. I thought it was just a house of guys, so I was a bit worried coming over.” Her voice sounds reassured and you’re exhaling out all the anxious air you had pent up since seeing Jaemin.

“That’s good. Men, am I right?” You try laughing to lighten the mood and surprisingly through the steamy suffocation, she giggles back. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve never seen so many bottles of AXE body spray in one bathroom.” Living in a house full of men, you realize you slightly miss the bathroom talks with your girl friends. 

“Look in the tub, there are four bottles of men body wash, yet they always use mine! It’s a hoax.” You announce excitedly, despite still facing the door.

“I have the same one! I fucking knew Johnny smelled like white strawberries and mint, but I couldn’t tell if the scent was from me or him.” 

Maybe sometimes, it isn’t so bad living with a group of attractive men. You get to laugh with their hookups in the bathroom! And before you know it, Johnny is knocking on the bathroom door to the fit of giggles and questioning why there are two voices. 

“I thought you had left without saying goodbye.” He says.

“Damn, the sex was that bad.” You joke and Johnny fakes a laugh through the door.

“Let me know if Haechan is any better, y/n.” You gasp at his statement, but don’t respond. The flushing of the toilet and the sink running being the only noises in the room. You’re stunned. Knowing Jaemin’s big mouth, he can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“It’s nice meeting you, y/n.” Johnny’s hookup gives you a warming hug before leaving and when she opens the door to join him, you give Johnny the middle finger as your form of response. 

“Nice meeting you too!” You yell back to her and shut the door to finally do your business. 

Great, now everyone knows you fucked your housemate. 

#neosmutcollective #nct-writers #neowritingsnet #neothestars #kpopscape #nct smut #nct scenarios #haechan #haechan smut #lee haechan #nct

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 5)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 3.2k

warnings: more smut (we’re picking right up where we left off last chapter) including some shower shenanigans and lots of dirty talk, relationship conversations, mention of bucky’s military background, really that’s just it...

Maybe it had been hours in Bucky's arms, maybe it had been a lifetime.  You were floating on air, suspended in pleasure as he rocked your body against his, still fucking you even though he'd already come once and you'd come too many times to count.

"Bucky," you whined, back arching even though you figured you were too weak for that.  "Baby, please— s-so good, you're so good…"

Metal fingers pinching your nipple sent your body into overdrive, exhausted inner muscles clenching around him as you cried out.

When he leaned down and kissed you again, you were afraid that you'd be too out of it to kiss him back.  But thankfully you managed to reciprocate, grabbing the hair at the back of his neck to hold him close as you whimpered softly against his lips.

He pulled back just enough to look down at you with dark, half-lidded eyes.  "Fuck, I'm gonna come again," he moaned like he was just as shocked as you were.  

"Yes!" you encouraged feverishly.

"This perfect little pussy is gonna make me come again, baby, is that what you want?  Want me to put another load in this needy cunt?"

"God, yes," you sobbed, his words so perfectly balanced between sweet and filthy.

"Well, I'm gonna," he promised through his teeth.  "Fuck, I'm gonna give you everything, pretty girl, I'm so close."

You couldn't remember the exact words you used but you were definitely begging him for it, completely lost in your need and, apparently, totally lacking in shame.

That weak, broken, desperate moan as he came inside you for the second time in a night… you wanted to bottle it up and keep it for rainy days, and sunny days, and all the days you'd ever see because it was just absolutely fucking divine.

"Don't move," he demanded with a whisper, "fuck, don't move, please."

"Couldn't if I wanted to," you laughed quietly.  He started laughing too, but not so much a 'this is funny' laugh compared to a 'is this real?' laugh.

"Fuck," he breathed, "that was… I didn't know I could do that."

"We're all learning new things about ourselves and our body's capabilities tonight, trust me."

"I'm gonna attempt to pull out without my dick falling off, okay?"

You chuckled through your exhaustion.  "Fingers crossed!"

You couldn't decide which was more lewd: the way it felt, or the way it looked.  In credit to the first, you were confident that even through the numbness that had begun to spread through your body, you still managed to feel every detail of his cock against the spongy ridges of your channel as it slid out of you, followed (of course) by the warm, slow ooze of come dripping down onto your sheets.  As for the second, well, his cock looked pretty glorious as it bounced back up against his abs, incredibly still hard but certainly starting to soften, glistening with your slick and his come and looking so lovely that you were compelled to sit up and lick it clean.  You would've if you weren't (1) so exhausted that you were sure you'd never sit up ever again, and (2) confident that any more stimulation to Bucky's poor cock would just be painful for him.

"Jesus fuck," he sighed as he watched his come leak out of your abused, swollen hole, admiring his handiwork; you giggled from both the odd feeling of his gaze on you like this and the comical way his swearing had deteriorated over the course of the night into half-assed blasphemy.

He fell down beside you on the bed, looking up at the ceiling before glancing to you with a smirk that was clearly tired but still plenty smug.  “God, I haven’t come twice in a row like that since… I don’t know if I’ve ever done that before, actually,” he laughed.

“I know for a fact I’ve never come that many times in a row,” you giggled.

"I uh… I need a shower.  And a year-long nap," he announced with a deep sigh.

"Use mine," you offered.  "I'll join you in a minute if you can promise to keep your hands to yourself."

"I don't know about that," he chuckled, "but I can definitely promise to keep my dick to myself."

"That'll do," you smiled as you watched him stretch and get up, grabbing his discarded boxers before slipping into your bathroom.

You took another deep breath and fought against the giddy smile that refused to leave your face.  Though you knew you had no right to be so happy over something as silly and frivolous as a guy, you let yourself get excited about this guy.  This guy who had made you feel safe when you thought you never would again.  This guy who had been a friend to you when it seemed like everyone else just wanted to get close to an alleged celebrity.  This guy who had already given it to you better than anybody ever had only to do it again without even stopping.

As likely as it was that your infatuation with him was preventing you from seeing all the flaws that every person and relationship were bound to have, it was hard not to think that this guy was everything you’d been waiting for.  Now all you had to do was try not to fuck it up.

//

Bucky sighed as he stepped into the stream of hot water, careful not to slip as his tired legs begged for more rest.  It was a hell of a workout, but then again, he'd never felt quite this good after a real workout.

It was all a little too good to be true; he was sort of assuming that he would wake up any minute now, in his own bed downstairs and with a mess in his boxers to take care of.  And he wasn't even mad about it, because who could be mad about a dream this wonderful?

If he was going to wake up soon, he was going to take advantage of the time he had left in his dream.  After a few moments alone, you slipped into the bathroom and opened the glass shower door, looking like everything he'd ever wanted with your messy hair and post-sex glow.

"Don't hog the hot water," you groaned as you pushed him aside, but you were smiling a little and he was perfectly content to just watch you from the corner anyways.

Well, not just watching; of course he had to reach out and run his hands over your skin, feel the warmth of you pressed against his body as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against his chest.  You hummed contentedly at his touch and the sound went straight to his cock, which swelled a bit where it was pressed against your hip.

You reached up and wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, his hands moving up to gently run over your breasts and stomach where the water was hitting.

He hesitantly ventured into kissing your neck before finally sliding his hand between your legs and grinning at the feeling of his own come leaking out of you.  You were so sensitive that you gasped and shivered just from that little touch, your little moans enough to drive him absolutely crazy (if he hadn't been already).

Two fingers slid into you easily; he decided to take credit for stretching you out so well, both of you sighing as he pushed in deeper.

"Bucky," you groaned, "can't… can't come again…"

"I'm just helping you wash all this come outta you, baby," he explained, though he was sure you heard the mischievousness in his tone.  "There's a lot… I filled you up real good, didn't I?"

You nodded and bit your lip, and he alternated between studying your face and looking down at his fingers slowly pulling out of you as the shower washed away his come and yours.

"I don't think this is all me," he whispered against your ear.  "I think you're getting wet again, princess…"

When you nodded again, your hips bucking slightly in his hand, he went ahead and brought his two slickened fingers to your swollen bud, drawing lazy circles around it as you moaned slowly.

"What're you getting wet for, huh?  Haven't you had enough?"

"Never get enough of you," you whimpered, as if you just magically knew the exact thing to say in that moment to make his cock twitch and his heart twist.  

"I'll be real gentle, honey, gonna take you there nice an' easy…" he trailed off, adding a bit more pressure but maintaining his relaxed pace.  You whimpered and writhed against him, your smooth skin sliding against his so easily with the water washing over both of you.  

He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers when he pushed inside again, smiling when you gasped and clutched his hair suddenly.  He figured you were sore, but he also figured you would stop him if he hurt you, so he just did his best to stay slow and sensitive as he found your swollen spot inside you and curled his fingers into it.  Your whispered curses were music to his ears; technically that would make your body his instrument, and that might be cliche but it wasn’t exactly untrue.

“Want a little more?” he asked below his breath, responding to your nod by rubbing your clit with his thumb.  Your back arched, and as beautiful as it was, it also caused your body to push away from his; he held you down with his free arm to avoid spending even a moment without you against him.

“C-close,” you stuttered, and he hoped the little chuckle he let out didn’t sound too condescending; just shocked, like he intended it,

“I thought you couldn’t come again,” he remembered, fighting his smirk to kiss your neck gently.

“I thought so too,” you sighed, your hips rocking against his hand as your breathing picked up.  “Fuck, don’t stop…”

It was subtle, but he felt you shudder and shake in his grasp, a new wave of warmth soaking his fingers.  He was careful not to let the water wash your come away as he brought the soaked fingers to his lips, eagerly tasting you as you watched him with heavy eyes.  “Want a taste?” he offered, but when you went for his fingers he kissed you instead, revelling in the little hum of satisfaction you released when you tasted yourself on his tongue.

It was you that pulled him closer and deepened the kiss further, weaving your fingers into his hair and moaning a little when he grabbed your waist.

“I should’ve known showering with you wasn’t going to actually be a productive bathing experience,” you laughed when you pulled back, noticeably staring at the way water droplets trickled down his chest.  

“Fine, I’ll let you actually do your whole shower thing,” he relented, “as long as I can borrow your shampoo.”

“Sure, but you’re gonna smell fruity and delicious afterwards,” you warned.

He chuckled a little as he leaned back into the stream of hot water to wet his hair.  “Don’t I already?”

//

You’d never had such an easy time falling asleep in someone’s arms, honestly.  It was so comfortable that you were actually a bit confused when you woke up alone, already pampered by the idea of spending the morning cuddled up with him.  Thankfully, with him living here most days, he was never too far off; you heard movement downstairs and realized he was probably making breakfast for himself since he was one of those natural early risers while you had dozed until— you glanced at the clock to check— 9:53, later than usual for a night you hadn’t been drinking.

Well, Bucky had taken the empty beer bottles from your nightstand for you, but you still remembered that you’d been drinking a little.  Yet certainly most of one beer couldn’t be to blame for you making a move on him; no, that was a purely sober idea, something you’d wanted to do for quite some time, in fact.

Perhaps it was a little misguided.  Maybe it was technically an inappropriate workplace relationship since you were, in a sense, his boss.  But, of every impulsive decision you’d ever made it was definitely your personal favorite.

Hopping up and slipping on a little flowy robe just to not be naked anymore, you rushed downstairs and found Bucky in the kitchen flipping a pancake in the pan.  He glanced back at you, looking a little conflicted, before you observed the plate of assorted fruit waiting for you on the bar.

“Wow, pancakes,” you nodded.

“And fruit,” he reminded you, like you weren’t already munching on a slice of a clementine.  “So it’s healthy.”

“Is this a taste of the ‘Bucky Barnes Boyfriend Experience’?” you chuckled, picking up a grape to eat next.  “Cause so far I’m a fan.”

Bucky’s head whipped around to look back at you, and your face got warm as you realized you'd been assuming that this was a 'getting together' sort of rendezvous and not just a one-night stand.  And maybe that wasn't a fair assumption, based on the way he was blinking back at you in shock.  “Orrrr maybe this is just the ‘Me Misinterpreting Things Experience’ and you just like to use some culinary comfort to soften the blow of the ‘about last night’ talk.”

"No, no," he shook his head, sighing a bit as his expression softened.  “I guess I kind of assumed you were going to regret it."

“Regret… last night?” you finished for him, thoroughly befuddled as you watched him flip the pancake onto a plate which he handed to you.

“Uh, yeah,” he scoffed, like it was obvious, before handing you the container of maple syrup.

“Why?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “‘cause it’s you, and it’s me.  You’re a movie star and I’m the guy who drives your car.  You were having a fun night, you got… caught up in the moment, and I was just in the right place at the right time.”

You took a moment to process that as you chewed your pancake, thankfully managing to swallow the bite before you burst out laughing.  “Oh my god, is that— is that really how you thought this was gonna go down?  After everything that happened last night?”

“Yeah, these aren’t morning-after pancakes, these are please-forgive-me pancakes,” he admitted as he poured another dollop of batter into the pan.  “Can’t you taste the difference?”

"Wait, wait,” you shook your head incredulously, “you thought I was gonna regret sleeping with you, and you still went through with it?"

He laughed a bit at that.  "You were grinding on me and sucking on my fingers.  You must think I'm a saint if you think I could resist that."

“And this was supposed to be your apology… for taking advantage of me…” you tried to reason aloud, still not totally understanding how he could ever question that you would want him.

He shrugged.  "I mean, I dunno… I was prepared to get fired today so you wouldn't have to see me around.  So I guess it was sort of a goodbye, too."

"Was it worth it?  I mean… was the sex worth losing your job?" you asked.  “Hypothetically.”

"Worth losing the paycheck?  Definitely,” he announced, quiet but confident.  “But worth not seeing you again?  No, I don't think so.  When you came down here I was just thinking about how I'd rather keep you as a friend than lose you as a lover."

"That's… poetic," you mumbled.  "Luckily, you don't have to choose.  I fully intend on keeping you around.  If you don't mind."

"Why would I possibly mind that?" he laughed.

“I guess I just feel guilty because if the press finds out you’re my boyfriend, they’ll be all over you.  Your past, your family, any ex-girlfriends…”

His lack of a response made you anxious again.

“Wait, I’m sorry, this conversation is sort of confusing: are you my boyfriend?” you asked nervously.  He laughed, flipping the pancake before looking back at you with a smirk.

“If you want me to be.”

“Yeah,” you answered, perhaps a bit too eagerly, “I do.  If you’re… into that.”

“I am,” he assured.  

“Think of it like a promotion!” you offered with a grin.

“Trust me, I do,” he nodded.  “Does this position come with a raise?”

“No, but a lot more benefits,” you winked.  “And, unfortunately, a lot more baggage.”

“Right, the press.  You really think they’re gonna care?” he raised an eyebrow.

You laughed sympathetically at his innocence.  “Oh my god, you have no idea.  From now on, when we leave the house it’s strictly business— anything else and they’ll be on you like white on rice.”

“Well then we’re not gonna be leaving the house much,” he snickered, “because now that I’ve got my hands on you once, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay away.”

You smiled as he started to lean over the bar to kiss you, but when he moved in just close enough you held up a piece of fruit in front of your mouth, which he took a bite out of instead.  “Slow your roll, Romeo, I’m trying to have an important conversation and you’re trying to distract me.”

“Was it that obvious?” he frowned, sliding another golden brown pancake onto a plate for himself and turning off the stove.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that this is serious stuff.  It’s not too hard to keep it a secret for a while but… it’s just a disclaimer before you agree to anything.”

“Do you give all your potential boyfriends this talk, then?” he asked coyly.

“Well, since I got big I’ve really only dated one guy and he was even more famous than me so... no,” you answered awkwardly.

“Oh, right,” he nodded, getting a little more serious.  “What was it you said they were going to investigate, again?  My past, my family, my ex-girlfriends,” he remembered.

“Yup,” you nodded.  “And any, you know, criminal convictions or whatever.”

“Well, none of those, not much family, barely any ex-girlfriends,” he enumerated, “but a lot of past.”

You solemnly contemplated eating another grape, hoping you had managed to maintain some nonchalance.  “How bad are we talking?”

“Not bad, necessarily,” he mitigated, stopping mid-sentence to grab the pancake with his hand and eat it straight, “but, you know… military.  So not exactly good.”

“Didn’t blow up any orphanages, right?”

“No, not quite,” he laughed, “but I wasn’t a conscientious objector, either.”

“Okay, just keep in mind they’re going to scrutinize everything you ever were before you were my boyfriend,” you informed him.

“‘Your boyfriend’ is the most important thing I’ve ever been.”

The comment took you aback— mostly in a good way, but you weren’t prepared for him to get sentimental like that.  You especially weren’t prepared for the effect it would have on you.  So you, being you, deflected it with a sudden topic change and a raunchy joke.

“Jeez, are you a sadist or something?  ‘Cause I can’t hardly sit in this chair properly, I’m so sore,” you winced.  

“That,” he announced with a grin, pointing at you with the half-eaten pancake in his hand for emphasis, “is the ‘Bucky Barnes Boyfriend Experience.’”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[mostly-marvel-musings]

The Bachelorette - Part 1

A/N: Okay this may be too wild for me but I went for it. Feedback is much appreciated.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Loki x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, threesome, some dirty talk? Nothing but filth. Cheating?

You have been warned.

Word count: 1600

Summary: On your bachelorette trip, you need a one-night stand just to get it out of your system, lucky for you there are two gentlemen willing to help you out. 

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder​ @ladyacrasia​ @agustdowney​ @swaggysposts​ @littlegasps​ @little-baby-vixen​ @another-stark-sub​ @supraveng​ @kahlanmars​ @marvelgirl7​ @disappointmentofthefam​ @pandaxnienke​ @tom-hlover​ @just-the-hiddles​ @fyreball66 @asmigurub​ @avantgardium-leviosa​ @imerdwarf​ @gladiosamicitias​

…

Looking over your shoulder you could see your girlfriends in the distance busy giggling away with the bartender as he generously poured drinks for them, keeping them preoccupied. The alcohol in your system was enough to allow you to pursue this, not enough to make you regret it the next morning.

It would have to be one of the things you’d take with you to your grave.

You had two choices, either going back to them continuing the party as if nothing had happened or, accepting the offer that the two fine gentlemen laid out before you. The latter included walking through a portal leading straight to a room that guaranteed all of your fantasies coming true, while the former seemed safe. 

The internal battle went on for quite a while before you quieted your rational side & went with your adventurous one. You wouldn’t have another bachelorette party, this was it, your big send-off into the married universe. And with someone who could literally alter time, you had little to worry about being unfaithful to your partner. This timeline would be erased into oblivion.

Finally you placed your hand in Loki’s outstretched one and watched Strange give you a grin that seemed to hide many sinful secrets. 

.

Leaving the balmy beach air behind was relieving as the portal became narrower before vanishing completely in golden specks, leaving you standing in a palatial room that seemed out of time. 

The interiors were ornate, historic even, complete with a four poster bed made of carved dark wood with drapes hanging from the sides, floating invitingly in the breeze that blew through the open window behind it, making you wonder if this was the Sanctum they had been talking about. 

Your eyes ran over every piece of furniture in the room until nothing was left to stare at but the two men who were regarding you with a look of lust and want enough to send shivers down your spine and made your cheeks display the effect they already had without touching you. 

“Take a seat.” Strange offered, gesturing to the chaise that sat in front of the bed. 

Nodding silently, you sat down looking between the two as they unbuttoned their respective shirts slowly before rolling up their sleeves up to their elbows, revealing strong muscular forearms, veins peeking through the surface adding to the appeal. 

The two moved with such grace, almost like presenting a rehearsed dance before you while you stared. It made you wonder if they’d done this before but you pushed those thoughts aside immediately, of course they had. But you weren’t here to worry about that, this was your night to let the outside world slip, a break from reality, this was your night to have fun without having to worry about the consequences. 

“You’re not gonna make me undress for myself are you?” 

The sudden confidence in your voice took them by surprise as you stood up and stepped out of your shoes, toying with the strap of your sundress, waiting. 

Loki stalked toward you, eyeing you like a predator would its prey, his lean figure towered over you as he stopped inches away. His scent filled your senses as your eyes closed instantly, body eager to be touched. 

You heard Stephen’s footsteps coming to a halt behind you, his fingers ghosting over your neck before pulling your hair to one side. 

“What do you say, Doctor?” 

Loki’s voice made you jump, his lips dangerously close to your ear while you felt his fingers lightly graze over the skin of your shoulder before he pushed the straps of your dress downward. 

The room wasn’t cold nonetheless, your nipples hardened as the dress passed your breasts and down your stomach before pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but black panties. 

The proximity of the two was enough to leave your skin goose pimpled before a cold touch landed on your cheek making you gasp. 

It was Loki. His breath intermingled with yours as you felt his lips descend over yours in a soft kiss meant to ease you in. You willed your hands to move, boldly linking them behind his neck and pulling him closer as you sighed into his mouth. Taking this advantage, Loki slipped his tongue in, meeting you halfway as they fought, your hands weaved through his raven black hair, pulling ever so slightly. Loki kissed languidly, like he had all the time in the world to explore your mouth, relishing the feeling.

Stephen’s warm fingers sliding down your sides before reaching around to knead your breasts felt like a welcome contrast to Loki’s cold touch. Loki swallowed the moan that escaped you as Stephen’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting the skin as his hands kneaded your breasts, pinching and rolling your buds in his expert fingers.

You began unbuttoning Loki’s shirt wanting to feel more of what was hiding beneath the fabric, his torso lean and hard under your touch, gliding over his smooth skin before moving further south. The sorcerer spun you around abruptly breaking contact with the Asgardian God before slanting his mouth over yours. Stephen’s kiss was consuming, dominating and urgent, the kind that made you forget everybody and everything. 

You felt the slick gather between your legs as did Loki whose hands travelled down your torso to palm your core over the fabric, groaning into your ear as he felt your arousal through your panties. Helping you out of them, the two rid themselves of clothing minus the boxers before guiding you towards the bed, never once losing proximity.

As you laid back against the plush mountain of pillows, their hungry eyes feasted on your naked form, warming your cheeks, sending tingles straight to your core.

“You are glorious darling.”

Loki knelt between your parted legs, opening them further after hooking his hands under your knees all while Strange moved to lay beside you, placing soft kisses along your jawline, down to your pulse point.

The tip of Loki’s nose nudged your bundle of nerves diverting your attention downward where he met your eyes for a second before delving into your folds. He marked a few spots on the inner side of your thighs as Stephen marked his on your chest and neck leaving you a tingly mess.

“Oh God…” a sharp inhale of breath felt necessary as Loki’s tongue plunged into your soaked core. 

“Relax sweetheart.” Stephen’s voice thick & muffled against your chest as his hands caged yours above your head securely but you continued to struggle.

“Mmm. She tastes exquisite, Doctor.” 

“Does she now?” 

Loki rubbed his thumb against your clit after detaching his lips from your core, admiring how it glistened in the dimly lit room, all because of him. 

Your back arched off the bed when he inserted two fingers in your entrance without warning, the other hand working your clit as he slowly began massaging your walls, stretching you out gently. 

Your nails dug into Stephen’s forearms and before you knew it, there were ropes wrapping around your wrist holding them tightly against each other, emitting a soft orange glow. 

The wizard, of course. 

You had no time to adjust as Loki hadn’t stopped his actions, your first orgasm of the night approaching fast as you clenched around him, hips lifting off the bed seeking more of him. 

You cried out loud as you came, Loki placed a final kiss to your core before standing on his knees. It was when your eyes fluttered open that you realized the sorcerer had lifted you up and was on his knees, his chest to your back. 

You were sandwiched between the two men, hands tied above your head still, knowing they were just getting started. 

Loki captured your mouth to give you a taste of what you had offered, making you groan into the kiss while Strange parted your knees before palming your dripping core. 

“I want to touch you too.” You pulled against the restraints, making them chuckle.

“You will darling.”

“We have all the time.” 

Strange’s slender fingers cupped your pussy while he nibbled on your earlobe, rubbing your clit in fast circles before plunging a finger inside with ease. 

For someone who could manipulate time, Strange seemed to be in a hurry when it came to you. 

“She is lovely, isn’t she?” Loki purred.

“Indeed.” 

The compliments and their expert touches brought your second climax of the night impossibly quicker, your walls fluttering and aching for more as you shuddered, crying out profanities as your head rolled back in pleasure and your legs quivered. 

“Do you want to take a break?” 

One of them offered softly, you weren’t sure who, the buzz from your last orgasm lingering over making the details around you a little fuzzy. 

“M’fine.” 

Your juices coated Stephen’s fingers, his attempt to lick them clean halted by Loki who popped his fingers in his mouth. The sight was hot enough to remain a permanent capture in your brain & embarrassing enough for you to hide your face in the crook of Loki’s neck who chuckled.

“Don’t be shy, sweet mortal.”

“Okay I may need a minute.”

Part 2 is uuuppp!!!

#stephen strange x loki x you #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki smut #stephen strange imagine #marvel smut #stephen strange fluff #loki x reader #loki imagine

[kingandfireheart]

What stories are left in ACOTAR: Elain edition

It is likely that the next installment of the ACOTAR series will cover Elain Archeron. Elain is probably the least developed character of the Inner Circle, and the only character (other than Amren and Lucien) whose perspective we haven’t seen yet. This post details her trauma, the issue of choice, Elain’s personality, the sweet innocent Elain image, and her various roles. 

Elain will definitely have to face her past trauma, which include:  

Graysen: grief, feeling of betrayal

The Cauldron and being kidnapped: trauma, feeling violated, becoming high fae

Her father: grief

Sisters: having a role in the Night Court, belonging there, being protected

Choices: 

Before I get into Elain’s role, I want to talk about a huge thing for Elain, which is choice. Rhysand spends ACOMAF and ACOWAR showing Feyre that she always has choices. Nesta struggles with this in ACOSF, and while Nesta does make choices to be more active - she kills the Kelpie, saves Feyre, saves her friends, she choses Cassian, and kills Briallyn. 

“I am not a thing to be controlled by you”, Nesta said icily. Everything in her life, from the moment she was born, had been controlled by other people. Things happened to her; anytime she tried to exert control, she’d been thwarted at every turn -- and she hated that even more than the King of Hybern.

Elain, who has suffered much of the same trauma as Nesta, will make her own choices in her book. Those choices will involve who she ends up with (I refuse to get into the Elucien/Elriel debacle here - I like both!), how she wields her power (as a seer, as high fae, as a Made person, as the Cauldron’s favorite, as a political pawn), and what she makes of the situations that happened to her. 

Elain has already shown that she can make good on a bad situation in ACOWAR, I’m excited to see how she keeps that up in her book: 

“This could end very badly, Elain.” // She brushed her thumb over the iron-and-diamond engagement ring. “It’s already ended badly. Now it’s just a matter of deciding how we meet the consequences.” (ACOWAR)

“I know your circumstances for coming here were awful, Nesta, but it doesn’t mean you need to be so miserable about it.” (ACOSF)

Sweet Innocent Elain: 

Elain’s persona in the Inner Circle is a sweet and innocent girl. She loves gardening and cooking. She is kind and cares about things like manners and propriety. Here are a few quotes that show that: 

Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light. (ACOWAR)

“You’re still lovely,” Mor said a bit gently. Elain offered a half smile. “I suppose that war makes wanting things like that unimportant.”Mor was quiet for a heartbeat. “Perhaps. But you should not let war steal it from you regardless.” (ACOWAR)

“What now?” Elain mused, at last answering my question from moments ago as her attention drifted to the windows facing the sunny street. That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.” (ACOWAR)

“I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she’d disappoint you all.” “With time and safety, perhaps we’ll see a different side of her emerge.”(ACOSF Bonus Chapter)  

We know that there is a lot more to Elain than anyone gives her credit for - Cassian, Amren, Rhys, and even Nesta point this out on different occasions in ACOSF: 

Cassian: “Nesta was wrong to think Elain as loyal and loving as a dog. Elain saw every single thing Nesta had done, and understood why.”

Amren: “Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Rhys: “I also think we haven’t seen all she has to offer. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way” “And torn up by thorns”

Nesta: “Elain stiffened, but refused to balk from whatever she beheld in Nesta’s gaze. “You think I’m to blame for his death? Challenge laced each word. Challenge - from Elain of all people. 

We also see Elain starting to take back her power in ACOSF when she steps up to look for the Dread Trove

“You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.”

“You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

“I am not a child to be fought over”

“I went into the Cauldron too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of it what my trauma did to you.”

Elain’s Roles: 

Sister: Elain has long been a mediator between Nesta and Feyre. She is the calmness that complements each of their fire, she is the one they each seek to protect. (I’m thinking of SJM’s fire/ice/stone metaphor for Manon, Asterin, and Sorrel). However, she is able to fight for what she wants with each of them, and use her skills to her advantage. Elain shows Feyre her remorse for the years when they are poor, which is why Elain and Nesta step up to help with the Mortal Queens.

 “Feyre gave and gave—for years. Let us now help her. Help … others.” (ACOMAF)

“And as for Feyre’s hunting during those years, it was not Nesta’s neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her. Both of us.” (ACOMAF)

Sweet, innocent Elain who vomited from the violence on the battlefields, who recoiled from Cassian’s weapons, does show that she is willing to fight for her sisters. 

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

Seer: Elain seemed to gain clarity once she realized what she was seeing. She says she can control her Seer talk, and actually uses this power to help Feyre find the Suriel in ACOWAR, and offers to do the same with the Dread Trove.  It isn’t clear if Elain’s refusal to acknowledge her powers stems from fear, lack of acceptance, or just the fact that she needed to be normal before she can embrace her new life. 

“Are you asking me that as her sister, or as a seer?” (ACOFAS)

“Then I will find it. I might require some time to ... reacquaint myself with my powers, but I could start today.” (ACOSF)

Made and Cauldron’s Favorite: Just like Nesta and Feyre, Elain is Made. All of the Like Calls to Like logic that applies to Feyre in ACOMAF with the Cauldron and the Book of Breathings and Nesta in ACOSF with the Dread Trove applies to Elain. Now that Nesta’s power is limited,  Elain may have to step up and use her power to help find the fourth Dread Trove item or with a new Cauldron-related task. The big distinguishing factor here is that the Cauldron likes Elain. 

The Cauldron purred in Elain’s presence as the King of Hybern slumped to his knees, clawing at the knife jutting through his throat. Elain backed away a step.

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain … Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something … It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken.

“You were Made by the Cauldron. You may track other objects Made by it as well... and because you are Made by it, you are immune to the influence and power of the Trove. You might use them, yes, but they cannot be used upon you.” 

Lucien’s Mate: Elain hasn’t been raised with the mating bond, she doesn’t care for it in ACOWAR when she tries to win Graysen back, but it is possible that after almost two years in the Night Court, and watching both of her sisters accept their bonds, that she may want to acknowledge it, or at least understand it. Being Lucien’s Mate also makes Elain a political pawn. Her presence in the Night Court ensures Lucien’s loyalty, and given that Lucient has ties to 3 of the seven courts and the human lands. Elain could potentially wield the power of those alliances (or destroy them based on her relationship with Lucien). 

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?”// “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”// “You belong to him.”//“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”(ACOWAR)

“You couldn’t say a single word to him? A pleasant greeting?//“He brought you a present”// “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”// “No. He is a good male. He cares for you.”// “He doesn’t know me.” //“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.”//“I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male” (ACOFAS)

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen. 

Member of the Inner Circle: Elain insists that she is a member of the Night Court in ACOSF, and offers her help in tracking down the Dread Trove. . She is already an active member at Inner Circle dinners (seen in ACOFAS and ACOSF), and those bonds could continue to grow. 

“And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared she was a part of this court -- and would do whatever was needed. ... He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court... It sucked the life from her.”

Nuala and Cerrdiwen’s Friend: Elain has befriended the two half-wraiths who spy for both Azriel and Rhys. Give Elain’s powers for persuasion (”my sister Elain can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles”)  and observation (”Nesta never spoke if afterward, I just observed”// “Elain’s brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that.” ), she could make an interesting spy or courtier.

“They’d spent more time with Elain than even I had. They understood her moods, what she sometimes needed.” (ACOFAS)

Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends. (ACOSF)

#elain archeron #acotar #elain #elain archeron week #kp analysis #acotar series #mtp

[yukiwrites]

Now, and Forever

Thank you so much for the support as always, @breeachuu !! i can't believe this is really the end of Wolfie's adventures! ToT) Thank you for sticking with me for so long! I'll miss the goodest boyo...

Summary: The alarming news that arrived the night of Wolfram and Dimitri's wedding was just as unexpected. There were signs of a new war brewing in the horizon, so they had to take up arms one last time...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

__________________________

By the time Wolfram woke up from their first night as a married couple, the inner circle of the palace sat in disbelief at the conference room.

Wide-eyed, the half manakete tiptoed to his seat beside Dimitri’s, who had his head down under his laced hands. Sensing his husband, Dimitri lifted his face, showing the hardened expression.

“What’s going on?” Wolfie asked tentatively, glancing at the people in the room: Byleth, Seteth, Gilbert, Dedue, and most of their original classmates from the Blue Lions House sat around the table.

Byleth pointed to the letter that sat at the center of the round table. “This letter arrived during the night,” she explained, then lingered her gaze on Wolfie’s. “It’s from Hubert.”

“What?!” Wolfram gasped, jumping out of his seat to pick the letter up. “But he’s-”

“Dead, indeed. By my own hand.” Dimitri spoke in a deep voice. “Yet, it seems that he had that letter ready to be sent right as the war ended, though it was misplaced for a full year until it found its way to us.”

Gilbert sighed deeply. “According to the person who brought it, the original carrier was one of his coworkers at the palace. There was only a short letter attached to it, saying to take it to the winner of the war no matter what.”

“I wonder what happened to the person Hubert entrusted the letter to…” Annette fidgeted on her seat. “What if they got caught up in the battle and…” her voice trailed off as the outcome seemed obvious.

Wolfie’s pupils shook as he lowered the letter. “But if what he’s saying here is the truth… We’re on a really tight schedule, right? If this was supposed to be sent one year ago…”

Dimitri sighed beside his husband. “Indeed. We must set out to this Shambhala place with haste.”

“And the children of the goddess mentioned here…” Wolfram glanced at Seteth and Byleth, then back to the letter.

“Yes.” Byleth nodded, making all eyes turn to her. “After the goddess granted me her power, I started recovering her memories little by little, especially in these past few months. If any of you have any questions about this, I’ll probably be able to answer them; but my plan for the church in the future does include this knowledge…���

“It will be a drastic change to what’s been believed up until now, so it will require some time…” Seteth added with a hand on his chin.

“Well, at least that letter found us all in the same place, huh?” Annette tried to lighten up the mood. “If it had arrived any earlier or later, it would’ve taken a long time to gather everyone together again!”

“Annie, we’re here for the royal wedding…” Mercedes nudged her younger friend, giggling when she blushed and hid her face under her hands.

“Ah, um, sorry about that! Not saying that it’s good that we discovered a new enemy during your honeymoon or anything but- I’m-”

“Heehee, it’s okay, Annette! We’re fine.” Wolfram smiled brightly, dispersing some of the strained atmosphere of the room. “Besides, I also think it’s lucky.” He crossed his arms, smiling proudly. “My entire family is here, too, and boy can they fight! My Father’s been itching for a fight since a while ago so I’m sure they’ll all go with us, too.”

“Will that be alright? I wouldn’t want to drag them into another war…” Dimitri looked up with worry, though Wolfie replied by sitting back down and smiling.

“It’s okay. It’ll actually be harder to tell them not to come, nyahaha…”

“Half a dozen dragons fighting by our side… Now I almost pity those who slither in the dark.” Gilbert chuckled darkly. The thought of such a sight sent shivers down everyone’s spines; they couldn’t even fathom the amount of power they had by their side now.

“Well, I don’t.” Wolfram pouted, snapping his finger on top of the letter. “Do you think I should call Mother here? She might not know the whole situation here and stuff, but she is, like, almost three thousand years old…”

Everyone but Byleth and Seteth sputtered. “Three thousand-” a collective voice choked as all eyes turned to Wolfie.

“Ah,” he scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Didn’t I mention?”

They all stared, befuddled, at their King’s consort, with varying degrees of surprise.

Dedue closed his eyes, then was the first one to move. “... I’ll summon her here.”

“Ah, thank you, Dedue.” Dimitri recovered his composure. He had heard from Wolfram that his mother was a kind of ancient being, but he had no idea of HOW ancient she was.

He now felt too humbled to even be in her presence, but that had to wait.

For now, they had a war council to run, a year after the end of the last war.

If what the letter said was true, those who slither in the dark was an ancient organization set upon decimating the children of the goddess and any who worship them. Monica, or rather, Kronya, and Tomas/Solon were known members of it, though the man who went by ‘Thales’, who only Byleth met briefly before Jeralt’s death, had taken the place of an influential person no one ever expected: Volkhard von Arundel, Dimitri’s uncle by marriage.

They had dealt a decisive blow against those who slither in the dark during the past war without realizing, as the letter explained. Hubert even snarked, saying that although the Empire had lost that battle against the Alliance and the Kingdom, they cheered inwardly at the death of such a repugnable being.

“That also may be the reason why there hasn’t been an attack from them in the past year.” Byleth added as they discussed the contents.

“If they were busy regrouping after losing so many key members… It makes sense.” Sylvain pitched in, checking the map attached to the letter. “This place’s right south of Hilda’s territory, isn’t it? Good thing she and Caspar are staying here for the time being, huh?”

“See, I told you!” Annette puffed her cheeks to her former classmate, earning a few chuckles all around even amidst all the tension of the looming threat.

“OH!!!” Wolfram exclaimed out of nowhere. “Oh, oh! Now I remember!” he jumped out of his seat, placing both hands on the table. “I don’t think I told anyone, but during that battle in Derdriu, I felt something strange oozing from the enemies… And then, when we got into Enbarr-”

Dimitri interrupted, with a hand on his chin in thought. “You mentioned that something stank, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah! I felt that there was something familiar about them, but I never made the connection until now. So those were the people infiltrated into the imperial forces… those who slither in the dark.”

“You could smell them?” Felix asked in disbelief, frowning deeply.

Wolfram scratched his nose awkwardly.

“We have better senses than humans,” he said in a small voice, fixing his gaze on the door.

Frowning even more, Felix looked from the consort to the door and, for a moment, nothing happened.

However, soon Dedue opened the door, bringing Nidra with him.

Since she had been brought at such short notice, she wore a veil around her head to hide her ears, though she lifted it once the door closed behind them.

Those inside gawked at the sight of her, now with the knowledge of being in the presence of a being older than time itself.

Blinking, Nidra tilted her head to the side at the strange atmosphere before making her way to Wolfram. “I was told something concerning had happened.”

Wolfie nodded, glancing between Dimitri and Nidra. “Yeah, the truth is…”

Once filled in the details, Nidra took the letter and the map. “This pull I feel… around here,” she pointed to a place near the Monastery: it was Zanado, the Red Canyon, where the former archbishop and strongest of the children of the goddess, Rhea, now resided. “Does it have anything to do with this enemy?”

“Oh, wow! You can feel her from here, Mother? I could only feel it when we arrived at the mountains…”

The classmates exchanged glances around the table, confused. Only Seteth silently gasped in surprise, remembering the talk he and Wolfram had had in his office, over a year ago.

“Aheem, um- yeah she’s on our side, so it’s okay.” Wolfie waved both hands as if to dismiss the topic in a hurry.

“Very well,” Nidra put the map back on the table. “These… enemies, according to this letter, somehow resemble those who once tried to use Lady Tiki in their evil plan to conquer the world. If we had more time, perhaps she would’ve been able to infer her insight on this.”

‘Lady Tiki?!’ the classmates thought at the same time. Was it someone more incredible than the woman who lived almost three millenia standing right in front of them?! They were even afraid to ask.

“I’m afraid my forte is not strategy, as that spot is already taken by a dear friend of mine. However, I will do what I can to help this cause.” Nidra concluded, gracefully sitting down beside Wolfram. “It is, after all, a personal matter now,” she smiled, though the pressure exuding from it made the classmates freeze in their spots.

Perhaps it was true that they should pity their enemies.

_______

It would be for the best not to attract too much attention as they moved, so only a handful of people were aware of the true danger. It would do more harm than good to alert the entire population of a danger that might or might not surface in the near future.

Thus, the newly-married King and his consort set out to the Monastery -- officially, that is -- alongside the Archbishop and her consort, bringing quite a few soldiers as escorts with them.

Hilda sent an express messenger to her brother back at their territory to check if there’s been any activity around that area in the past few months, though nothing in particular popped up.

They weren’t called ‘those who slither in the dark’ for nothing, apparently.

Even in his letter Hubert mused how difficult it had been to pinpoint the whereabouts of Shambhala since they had been very careful with the types of magic they used. He had to follow their lines of supplies through espionage, but that was beside the point.

What mattered was that the headquarters was finally within their grasp, even if it wasn’t during the exact time they were supposed to know about it.

When the former classmates from other houses and the rest of Wolfie’s family had been told about the campaign, their readiness to jump back into battle was inspiring and staggering at the same time.

Even the peace-loving Dorothea immediately jumped into the bandwagon, surprising Wolfram into giving her a big hug.

There was no way of knowing the extent of the enemy forces, so although they left with a considerable number of troops under the guise of an escort, there was no shortage of worry. Even if their leaders had been eliminated, new ones would surely surface, so that wasn’t enough to let their guards down.

According to Byleth, they had been the ones who slaughtered the children of the goddess and made weapons out of their bones and crests stones out of their hearts, not to mention how they had experimented on Lysithea during her childhood or how they had kidnapped Flayn for her blood.

They had to be more careful than ever when dealing with such unscrupulous people.

“Yuck, and I thought no one could out-awful the grimleal.” Cynthia made a sour expression one night after the march. “How’re you feeling, Rammy? Are you okay?”

“Hm… I don’t think I am, actually.” Wolfram confessed as they sat near a random tent. “You know, the first mission I had to go to was… was to deal with something these guys did in a tiny village.” He shivered, holding himself as if to warm his arms from the chill. “It was horrible. I kept thinking about what you and Big Brother told me just so I wouldn’t be a crying mess for weeks.” He leaned on Cynthia’s shoulder as she scooted closer.

“Don’t worry, Rammy. Big Sis here is gonna kick their butts so hard I’ll turn them inside out.” She clenched her fist decidedly. “I’ll probably dust off my dragonstone for this.”

“Whoa, Sis, but what about your pegasus?” Wolfie gasped in surprise.

“Well, my arm in human form isn’t as strong as my,” she mimicked biting the air, “jaws in dragon form.” She grinned. “And I’m ready to fill my belly with baddies.”

“W-wait, what if they give you indigestion!” Wolfie finally laughed, making Cynthia sag her shoulders in relief.

“No amount of baddies could make MY belly upset! Not the greatest hero that ever lived, Cynthia, the pegasus-riding dragon!” She struck a pose, receiving applause from a giggling Wolfie.

Content, the big sister patted her younger brother’s head.

_____

Despite being cheered up by Cynthia, Wolfie still worried as they marched, to the point that he was unable to sleep sometimes.

Dimitri, as one with a light sleep, noticed when his husband tossed and turned in bed. “Wolfram…”

“Ah, did I wake you? I’m sorry, Dimitri.” Wolfie slapped both hands over his mouth. “I’m just so nervous about it all,” he scooted closer, hiding in Dimitri’s embrace. “I keep remembering Remire village…”

Dimitri softly hugged his husband back, digging his face into his thin neck. “Indeed, that was a terrible experience for me as well, at the time. But we will put an end to all of that suffering, now once and for all.”

“Put an end to the suffering…” Wolfie mused. “I hadn’t thought about that. I was so focused on all the evil they did and how strong they must be, I wasn’t looking ahead!”

Chuckling, Dimitri kissed Wolfram’s forehead. “To think the student would become the teacher,” he smiled. “You were the one who taught me to think of the good I could make, so I’ve been taking it to heart.”

“Mhm,” Wolfie grinned, feeling pride well up inside his chest. “Thanks for reminding me of it, Dimitri. I think I can finally have a good night’s sleep, thinking of the good we can do.”

“That’s good.” Dimitri nodded, bringing Wolfie closer into his arms. “The weather gets warmer the further we get from Faerghus, but…”

“Of course, I’m not trading your hugs for anything, not even if it’s too hot!” Wolfie giggled, rubbing his face on his husband’s strong chest.

Under loving giggles and soft embraces, the rulers of the Unified Fódlan fell asleep in one another’s arms on the eve of their arrival.

_____

The entrance to Shambhala was within a mountain, under many strange and familiar contraptions -- they resembled those who lifted them downwards to the Holy Tomb. The air was still and hard to breathe the deeper they went, but under the eerie lights embedded on the walls and the constant flow of dark mages, there could be no doubt about it: they really were in the heart of the enemy.

Byleth took the charge as she had always had, though this time her Sword of the Creator shone brighter than ever, ready to soak up all the blood its owner had spilled to create it. There were Demonic Beasts and Titanuses blocking their path left and right, but with the collective might of mages and dragons, they, too, fell like dominoes to the Kingdom’s might.

There were many traps to be disarmed as they swooped in, some that they had never seen the power of -- like the Javelins of Light, that had decimated Zanado a millenia ago. Though they all equally fell to the Kingdom army due the incompetence of the organization's new leaders.

Once they descended some dozen floors, never stopping with killing everything in sight, they arrived at a room with oval compartments around the walls.

There were eleven of them, with the biggest one menacingly standing in the middle.

Cautious, Byleth asked Yuri and Ashe to approach, as the stealthiest ones in the team, but the moment they took the first step into the room, smoke rose up from the tubes connecting to the compartments.

“Archwind!” Henry shouted immediately, dissipating the dangerous-looking smoke into nothing.

It revealed that the doors to the compartments opened upwards, one by one, revealing dead-looking people inside.

They were grey as ash and the putrid smell that filled the room told the army that something that defiled even Death stood in front of them.

“Seiros…” the man in the middle, who towered over even Dedue at almost 3 meters tall, grunted in a guttural, animal-like voice. He took a whip-looking thing from his waist, immediately whipping it ahead -- straight in Byleth’s direction.

She blocked it with her Sword of the Creator, noticing that that was no whip: it looked exactly like her sword, though it was bathed in black.

“You’re…” she widened her eyes in surprise. “Nemesis!”

“What?!” the army gasped in surprise behind the Professor.

“Then those ten are…” Dimitri’s words trailed off as the 10 Elites each brandished a shadow copy of their original Relics. “Quick, to arms! Do not let them gather their strength!”

“I’ll keep Nemesis occupied! Defeat the others!” Byleth rushed ahead.

Although the room was enormous, it didn’t fit all of the units they had brought, especially not the draconic ones in their original forms. Due to that, Wolfie’s family had to fight in their human forms, though they were no weaker than before -- Nidra especially, who had perfect control over her dragonstone to allow it to give her the strength equivalent to her dragonic form without completely transforming. She fought with her fists.

By her side, Henry cackled maniacally, loving that new side of his wife.

The battle against the revived 10 Elites was over embarrassingly fast, though no one dared to mention it aloud. Perhaps it was because they had just been resurrected, or just because the Kingdom army was just that strong.

One thing was for certain: the moment the last of the ten fell, Byleth’s sword managed to wound and then kill Nemesis, as if he had been protected by magic that connected all of them to him.

“Humph,” Byleth whipped her sword back into its original shape. “It was good that we were informed of this place when we did. I think those who slither in the dark wouldn’t unleash this threat until this age was over, so we managed to protect future generations.”

“We saved the future of not only one, but TWO worlds!” Cynthia threw her elbows back in a pose. “Now I can rub that in Owain’s face, mwahaha…!”

No one truly heard, or simply ignored, her words as they all came to terms with the victory.

“Was this the last floor? Did we really do it?” Someone asked.

“I can’t believe there was so much hidden underground,” another person mused, though, by far, the most common reaction was a shout to the sky.

“We won!!!” They cheered.

It was a mission that ended as quickly as it arrived, though it was by no means easy on their hearts. To be thrown into another war right after being able to stand after the last one made the soldiers’ hearts waver.

Yet, now it was all over.

“I’ll have to make sure there weren’t more of these around the land,” Byleth mused to herself as Seteth wiped the blood out of her face with the worry of a very concerned husband.

“That this place existed at all is already unimaginable enough… But true, we shouldn’t overlook that possibility.”

On the other side of the room, Wolfie hugged all of his family and his husband in turns. “We did it!! Thank you so much, everyone! I don’t think we could’ve ended this so fast without you.”

“Of course you couldn’t! Not without the duo heroes, Cynthia!” Both Cyn and Cynthia struck an ‘x’ pose as petals magically exploded behind them.

“Nyahaha…” a glint shone in Henry’s eyes as he helped flaunter his daughters’ antics.

His heart full, Wolfram’s nose itched with tears. “Thank you so much, really, thank you… Now we can truly, finally be at peace.”

Dimitri slid one hand to Wolfie’s waist. “Indeed. Your help was invaluable, mother-in-law, father-in-law.” He bowed.

“Wow! This makes me feel so old!” Henry giggled, waving his hand to Dimitri’s bow. “It’s fine, I’ve been wanting to spill some blood for a while… hey, be sure to call on me if you need something killed, alright? There’s not much fun- aack, owowow, Ni-Ni!”

Pulling her husband’s ear, Nidra sighed. “Pay him no mind, Dimitri.”

Dimitri blinked, then laughed as warmth enveloped his chest.

It would take a bit of getting used to to finally accept that he now had a family -- and a really big and diverse one at that.

Yet, whenever he held Wolfram’s hands in his, he couldn’t help but accept that reality readily. Truly, only bright days waited ahead of them.

The party dissolved little by little as they returned home.

Hilda and Caspar stayed at the former Alliance to visit her home and tell them the good news of their victory. There was also another set of good news that would visit them in a few weeks’ time, the first of many, many new members of their little family.

Dorothea returned to Enbarr to be with her husband, Ferdinand, and help him rule over his domain. She brought him the news of what Thales had done as Arundel in the Wrym territory, and the both of them wondered if they had ever met the real Arundel at some point in their lives or if those who slither in the dark had truly been infiltrated so deep into the Empire for that long.

Byleth and Seteth headed back to the Monastery, though first they stopped by Zanado to tell Rhea of everything that had happened. They didn’t call on her before since she was still recuperating after five years of torture at the only place she had called home since ancient times, but now that Nemesis had been defeated once and for all, she deserved to know the truth. Rhea weeped for her mother and brethren for the first time in centuries, somehow managing to let go of a lot of resentment and attachments, which stabilized her aura considerably.

Now, Nidra wouldn’t be able to sense her from Faerghus like before.

As the new Archbishop, Byleth would spread the truth of what actually happened at the creation of the Church of Seiros, though she would be doing that over the centuries with Seteth by her side.

Dedue and Mercedes finally went on their trip to Duscur, though Dimitri said that if they wanted to take permanent residence there, he would do his utmost to bring the land back to fruition. Dedue was conflicted at first, since he wanted to serve Dimitri for the rest of his life, but the prospect of rebuilding his land beside the one he loved moved his heart like never before. Besides, it was only a week of travel between Duscur and Fhirdiad, so they could see each other any time.

Cyn and Ingrid established a new Pegasus Order in Fódlan, based on the one from Ylisse. Even though Cyn’s pegasus looked different from the others, it was by no means weaker or slower, so it was easily accepted into the group at the barn.

Claude, now crowned King of Almyra, would sometimes visit Fhirdiad in diplomatic missions, so his promise with Wolfie was fulfilled now that they could meet whenever they wanted. As Cyn was Wolfie’s personal guard, she and Claude saw a lot of each other whenever he visited, and there were some glances…

Cynthia, Meliodas and their spouses moved into their family’s castle, bringing new life into it even after Wolfie and Cyn’s departure.

Surprisingly, the one who visited the most was Henry and not Nidra, though he liked to study Fódlan’s magic more often than not -- it was said that the innate magic he learned could decimate a few dozen armies, though that wasn’t put to practice. … Yet, anyway.

Nidra learned how to braid her hair around her ears from Dorothea, so now she didn’t need to walk around with the veil anymore. She divided her time between visiting Robin in her detached palace and Wolfie in his, so she was by no means staying still, though she still relished in taking naps under the oak tree in the garden.

Wolfram and Dimitri, years later, would decide to adopt a child to be the heir to the throne, though first and foremost they would treat him like their own son before he was to be the next king.

Family was, after all, everything that mattered.

Now, and forever.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #dimitri fire emblem #fatesona #fodlansona #my writings #yuki's commissions

[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 6

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: After learning Hawk Moth's identity, Lila inserts herself into Gabriel's inner circle so she can destroy Ladybug-- er, get Ladybug's earrings. Ha-ha-ha. Ha.

Lila toed the cement beneath her as she restlessly awaited the assistant’s arrival. Gabriel had used an earpiece to communicate to her, Lila assumed. But the waiting was painfully awkward. Neither party made any attempt to fill the silence. The absurdity of the situation sat on their chests like an overweight feline unwilling to move.

As the sun dipped out of golden hour, the mansion shrouded the garden in shadow. Lila squinted her eyes to try and make out the details of Adrien’s mother’s statue, but the effort was fruitless. Wouldn’t a billionaire have, like, lamps or something? Maybe he didn’t have lamps because he hardly left the walls of his office.

Lila’s lips twitched into a smirk, but she quickly smothered it.

There was a sudden scuffling of shoes against the garden stones from behind Lila. She observed wordlessly from the corner of her eye as the looming and brooding Gabriel Agreste flew to the assistant’s side at an inhuman speed and held his arms out to support her silently, his fingers never quite making contact with the body he seemed desperate to protect.

Huh. A weakness. Hawk Moth had a weakness.

Lila filed that tidbit away should she need it for later.

“You were quite cryptic over the phone, sir,” the assistant started.

“I suppose I was, Nathalie. What needed to be said was . . . not phone appropriate.”

“Sir?”

Knowing Gabriel was Hawk Moth seemed to have tipped a domino in Lila’s brain. It was like there was a blanket over her eyes and it had been ripped away. On several occasions, a blue-skinned bird lady aided and abetted Hawk Moth. Lila had wondered who would possibly be close enough to the villain to be looped into his plans.

The connection was easy to make.

Lila folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side, looking Nathalie up and down. When she had finagled her way into the Agreste mansion with a despicable limited edition Ladybug figurine, discovering the identities of Paris’s most wanted duo was not only low on her list of possibilities; it was nowhere near the friggin’ list.

But Dio was it the single most delectable turn of events.

“Let me guess. You were Mayura.”

Nathalie, who had been wholly oblivious to Lila’s presence, sucked in a breath, head spinning to meet the eyes of Adrien’s conniving classmate. Nathalie opened her mouth, probably to protest Lila’s statement, but the words died on her tongue. The only sounds came from the crickets chirping into the encroaching night air.

“She knows,” Gabriel explained.

“She . . . she knows?” Nathalie repeated.

Gabriel nodded. Nathalie’s gaze fell to the grass sprouting in between the garden stones. As the trio stood, the occasional butterfly fluttered around Gabriel like they knew they were kindred.

“You don’t need to be worried about . . . What’s the phrase?” Lila rested a finger on her chin. “Ah, right. Me spilling the fagioli. I don’t know the French word.”

“Beans,” Nathalie supplied.

“You know Italian?” he asked. Then softly to himself, “My Emilie knew Italian.”

Nathalie ducked her head at Gabriel’s attention before straightening her posture and jutting out her chin. If Lila hadn’t seen the woman shuffle over to this spot as if she were going to faint any moment, she might have never known there was anything amiss.

“So you . . . what? Want to be an ally?”

“Multilingual and smart,” Lila teased.

Something dark flickered in Nathalie’s eyes. Much darker than Lila would have ever given her credit for. “You’d do better to watch your tone with me, Mademoiselle Rossi.” She spat Lila’s name like one might an unforeseen chunk of raw garlic.

Ah, so this was how Nathalie wanted to play this. Lila’s fingers tingled in anticipation. She was a flexible actress, best known for her improv skills and dedication to her roles. If a performance was what the assistant wanted, then Lila was eager to put on a show.

“Why, Mademoiselle Nathalie--” Lila started, turning her back on the pair.

“Sancoeur.”

Lila rolled her eyes but proceeded to pump her tone full of sickeningly sweet syrup. “Right. Mademoiselle Sancoeur, it would be my pleasure to get the Ladybug Miraculous for Monsieur Agreste.”

“And Chat Noir’s.”

Lila plastered a fake smile on her face and turned on her heel. “Hm?”

Nathalie arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You loathe Ladybug, don’t you, Mademoiselle Rossi?”

“That’s no secret.”

“You want more than to take her Miraculous.”

It wasn’t a question. Lila held eye contact with Nathalie, unflinching. Eventually, she spoke. “I want to humiliate her. Like she humiliated me,” Lila growled. I want to destroy her.

The assistant chose not to expand on this statement, but Lila could tell she sensed a much more sinister motivation. She must have been weighing the pros and cons, her mind running a mile a minute to predict what including Lila might entail. Lila had to agree: she was a wildcard. Her loyalties teetered like a see-saw, ever-changing to suit her needs. She knew this. And Nathalie knew this.

Lila’s eyes bore into Nathalie’s, challenging her to refuse.

“I admit,” Nathalie began after a beat of consideration, removing her tablet from the crook of her arm, “you might make a valuable asset.”

Gabriel, who had been quietly observing the interaction between his assistant and the girl, folded his arms behind his back. “Yes, even now, while I’m untransformed, your contempt for the bug is palpable.”

“She’s a cockroach,” Lila sneered, her lips upturned in a grimace and her hand clenched tightly into a fist.

Lila’s enthusiasm amused Gabriel greatly. His shoulders shook as he chuckled, but the sound was hollow. “That is something we agree on. No matter how many times I pursue her, she manages to outsmart me.”

Lila bit her tongue. She wanted to say It’s easy to outsmart a man whose password is “password,” but she didn’t. She honestly deserved an award for that caliber of commitment.

“While you are very clever, you’ve been playing an elementary partita, Monsieur Agreste.”

Gabriel’s eyes hesitantly shifted to Nathalie.

“Game, match, etcetera,” she clarified. Ironically, a meager little ladybird flitted to Gabriel’s shoulders then. He scrunched his nose at it.

“And though it’s been a rousing game of tag--” Lila paused purposefully as Gabriel, without breaking eye contact, lifted a palm and allowed the dotted beetle to crawl onto his fingers before proceeding to wordlessly pass it to Nathalie. Lila cleared her throat. “I’m here to up the stakes.”

With her mouth set into a thin line, Nathalie bent over and shook her finger until the thing lost its grip and fell to the concrete. In the process, her shirt rode up to reveal a compelling pale scar the length of a thumb running up her side. Lila arched an eyebrow. Nathalie hastily covered it.

“What exactly are you implying, Mademoiselle Rossi?”

Gabriel peered at Lila over the bridge of his nose, daring her to challenge his legacy as Hawk Moth.

But Lila was not an expert manipulator for nothing. She knew how to read people, and, more importantly, she knew how to please them.

She knew how to play them.

“You’re a proper gentleman, Monsieur.”

Flattery. She would begin with flattery.

With one hand, she twirled one of her pigtails. Men and boys alike often found intelligent girls not only intimidating but emasculating. She wasn’t sure if Gabriel would take too kindly to a sixteen year old picking at all the holes in his plans, holding a magnifying glass to his inadequacies.

But she always loved creating fire with glass as a child.

She particularly enjoyed setting unsuspecting ants aflame.

“Getting your hands dirty is beneath you. There’s no doubt your plans are always cunning.”

She nearly gagged at the sound of those words leaving her throat as she slowly approached the designer and his assistant, calculating each step before taking it. No, she really didn’t believe his plans were cunning. It seemed like he akumatized anyone, chucking strategy to the wind. Imbecille.

“Your akumas, they’re always dressed so well--” it took a colossal amount of willpower for Lila not to look away then, a classic sign of lying “--and their powers are always a genius play on words--” double gag “--but unless you’re willing to play in the mud . . .”

Crunch.

The young vixen made a spectacle of rotating her toes back and forth as she squashed the ladybug the duo had so gingerly set on the stone. She relished in the sensation of a dainty beetle beneath her boot, imagining in vivid detail that it was the heroine’s skull instead.

When she lifted her foot, the two adults barely spared a glance at the result. Lila smirked.

“I’m willing to make a mess, sir,” Lila asserted, peering up at Gabriel through her bangs. She twirled and danced on the balls of her feet. “I would be a brilliant addition! I’ve wanted to wipe that smile off Ladybug’s face since I met her.”

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Gabriel’s lips tilted into a smile. He looked . . . almost proud. Lila lapped it up like a woman lost in the desert being given a bottle cap of water.

“Your family is from Italy, Lila?”

Lila tilted her head, confused by the abrupt detour in conversation. “. . . Yes.”

“How would you feel about an impromptu family visit?”

Nathalie’s eyes widened. She whipped her head around to stare down her boss so fast she was nearly overcome by dizziness. “You can’t really want--”

Gabriel held up a hand, instantly silencing his assistant. She searched his eyes for any remnants of humanity. Was there any left? Did it slip through her fingers on her watch? Gabriel couldn’t possibly want-- They were children, for God’s sakes!

But like an avalanche, his mask crumbled, and swept away with it was any morsel of decency.

“I do want, Nathalie. I’ve grown bored of this back-and-forth business with those two meddling infants. They hold onto those Miraculous so firmly, as if they could possibly know, possibly fathom--”

He didn’t finish his statement, closing his eyes and rolling his neck. Lila delighted in Gabriel’s sudden slip of conduct as his shoulders hunched all the way to his ears and he grinded his teeth. She hadn’t pictured him to be capable of such an erupting volcano of emotion. She often wondered if he was capable of emotion at all.

“Hand me the tablet, Nathalie.”

Nathalie gripped the tablet until her fingers turned white, but the resolve she saw in Gabriel loosened her own. Grudgingly, she passed him the device.

“There are some items I’d like you to procure for me, items that I surmise you’ll be quite pleased to have in your arsenal.”

Whatever these items were, they seemed to have Nathalie on the edge of her seat.

It was suddenly imperative that Lila find out what could have ruffled Mayura’s pretty feathers.

“Sir, you won’t be disappointed.”

Gabriel eyed Lila a moment before affirming, “I don’t believe I will.”

The final remnants of the golden hour neglected the garden, blanketing its visitors in a foreboding shadow like it was them and then it was the rest of the world. Perhaps this is why they missed the piercing green eyes surveying the trio scrupulously from a neighboring building.

So jealousy was a green-eyed monster.

No one mentioned it also wore black leather.

-----

I hope you're enjoying my little fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it! 🥰 There's still so much to uncover in this story so buckle up. Follow me for updates and check out my Instagram where I post art!

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#mlb #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanworks #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug au #miraculous ladybug fanworks #miraculous ladybug fandom #miraculous fandom #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #lila salt #lila rossi #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #adrienette #marichat #ladrien #miraculous season 4 #love square #alya cesaire #chat blanc ptsd #hawk moth #identity reveal #angst #hr wingless mlb

[justabstractthings]

Wisteria | Shinso x Reader

Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m super late but here it my part for the Flowers bnharem server collab! Please don’t forget to check out everyone’s pieces because they are amazing and everyone worked really hard on them! I hope you enjoy every single one of them!

Wisteria signifies obsession, passionate love, longevity, and immortality.

The Wisteria Maiden: Fuji Musume (“Wisteria Maiden”) is a famous classical dance from Japan. The story begins in Otsu, a city famous for its painting. People would stroll along the streets admiring the artisans’ paintings. A painting of a wisteria maiden caught the eye of a male passerby. The Wisteria Maiden became infatuated with him. She became so infatuated that she came to life and stepped out of the painting. She wrote letters to her love; however, they go unanswered. Eventually, sadness and despair take over the heartbroken maiden and she returns to her painting.

Pebbles crunched under your feet as you trekked through the never-ending tunnel. Parents pulled their children along the path. Old and young couples strolled hand in hand. Most visitors had their phones out, taking pictures of themselves or the enchanting scenery. Nobody paid any mind to your meek form as you hugged your crossbody bag close to your heart.

Your eyes trailed up the sides of the tunnel until it reached the lavender and lilac hues that dangled and covered the entire structure. A deep breath introduced a sweet familiar scent as it wafts through the air. It provided a sense of calm through your body as you continued your journey through the fairy tale like surroundings. 

With a smile on your face, you reached into your bag and pulled out your weapons of choice: a sketchbook and a pencil. When inspiration strikes, you are not one to back down from a challenge. Most people prefer to capture their inspiration with their phones, but it never compares to the brush of a pencil as you transfer the beauty of nature from reality to the sketchbook on your arm. 

Even with the crowds of people walking along the path, this was where you were most at ease. Surrounded by the blossoming flowers as they dangled along the ceiling. Their white, lilac, and lavender colors promised tranquility as you continued to sketch a life-like portrait of their beauty. 

Unfortunately, you were forced out of your reverie. A sharp jolt from your back caused you to drop your tools, your calm mind forced into a state of surprise and fear. 

“Oh sorry,” a deep but weary voice caused you to turn, sketchbook forgotten for just a moment. He looked confident but unsure. His shoulders squared back and hands buried in his pockets. Caring but aloof eyes diverted away from your face. But what stuck out to you the most was his unruly hair. His deep purple locks stood out in contrast to the shades of lavender that surrounded him like a halo. 

Another sight to capture. 

Your heart hammered against your chest. Hands shaking as the need to sketch overpowered your initial surprise. Before you could reach for your fallen sketchbook, the boy leaned down and grabbed the book off the ground.

Anxiety washed over you like waves violently crashing against the shore at the thought of another person seeing the sketches you had hidden in your book. But he never gave a second glance as he promptly placed the book in your hands and silently continued his stroll.

It took you a second to jump back into reality. Without another thought, you quickly grabbed another pencil and furiously sketched the boy. Afraid that a few more seconds would cause you to forget his features. With each stroke of your pencil, it was like the boy never left your sight. Details ranged from his gravity-defying deep purple locks to the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Here he was. Brought to life against the soft surface of your paper. Immortalized through your art.

A soft breeze blew through the tunnel causing the flowers above your head to sway to and fro. Your eyes trailed toward the direction that the purple haired boy disappeared. The whispering wisterias softly promised against your ear. You would see the boy again. One day. But for now, you had your sketchbook nestled against your arm.

The next day, you found yourself sitting under the towering form of a wisteria tree. Its looming branches and hanging flowered vines created a lavender curtain between the enchanting tranquility and the never ending harsh reality of the world.

Last night, your sketches ranged from the wisterias to the mysterious boy. Your wrist ached, evidence of the multiple completed sketches contained in your book. Shades of purple occupied your mind. Usually, your mind would stop racing after a few sketches throughout the day. Since the day before, your thoughts never diverted away from the purple-haired boy. 

You flipped through your book until you found another sketch of the mysterious boy. It was a bit difficult but you tried to imagine what he would look like with a side profile. His purple eyes stared off into the distance with wisterias blowing in the background. You captured the inquisitive look in his aloof eyes. You ripped the page off the book and flipped it towards the back blank page. You scribbled a few words.

Enigma. An uncaring presence on the outside, but with a thoughtful and kind heart. An enigma.

As an artist, you understood the importance of being able to capture the very essence of your piece even with just a short amount of time to study it. Under your eyes, they become an open book. However, he was a puzzle. And you spent all night piecing him together to understand how his outside appearance contraindicated his inner thoughts.

But it would do you no good to dwell on him further. Today was another day of enjoying the wisterias blooming around you. You flipped to a new page on your sketchpad as you studied the tree’s hanging flowers above your head. They waved at you as you began to sketch their beauty.

“That’s really good.”

Your head shot up. You clutched your sketchbook close to your chest as you stared into the same tired and weary eyes from the day before. The purple-haired boy was crouched less than a foot away from you. His eyes trailed from the clutched sketchbook to your wide-eyed face.

“Sorry I scared you.” His baritone voice surrounded you like a warm blanket during the chilly winter. His small frown sent a pang through your heart. A deep need to see him smile overcame your previous alarm.

“It’s ok,” you murmured as you clutched the sketchbook tighter against your chest.

“Can I take a look?” 

Before you could even comprehend your next actions, you let out a small squeak, grabbed your belongings, and hurried away. Small droplets of water streamed down your face as the fear of revealing yourself became quite apparent. 

When you found a new wisteria tree, you leaned against its strong trunk. Your heart felt like it would burst out of your chest at any moment. Your chest tightened as you tried to catch your breath. You gulped down the fear that shook your very core. Eyes burning as the last few tears threatened to release themselves. 

You ruined your chance with the purple-haired boy. 

Fear overpowered your desire.

You dropped down onto the floor as your shaky hands grabbed another pencil from your bag. When you opened a blank page on your sketchbook, your eyes stared into the white abyss of the paper. Your hand immediately stopped shaking as you began to sketch out the boy’s face once more. He was so close that you were able to find more features to include in your sketches. His dark circles were deeper than you first thought. A bit more muscular but still lean. When he asked a question, he titled his head slightly towards the right. Almost like a cat. 

A light smile adorned your face as you looked into the unblinking dark purple eyes . You didn’t notice before, but he had white pupils. Enchanting just like the wisteria hanging above your head. 

“One day,” you whispered as a light breeze flew through the air. 

After a few minutes of rest, you decided that it was time to return home. As you flipped your sketchbook closed, you realized that one page was missing. The ripped page. You must have left it after running away. You quickly shoved all of your belongings into your bag as you hurried back. 

When you returned to the wisteria tree, the boy and your paper were nowhere to be seen. You searched around the area and there was no trace. Dread covered you like a blanket as you began to imagine the worst kind of reaction if the boy found your sketch of him.

Would he think you were a stalker?

Would he ever speak to you again?

Was that the last time you would see him?

You gulped down your fears as you began the trek back home. Sadness washed over you at the thought of the mysterious purple haired boy. Another inspiration lost in the wind. But now it seemed like you were the cause of his absence. 

Inspiration has never hit you this hard. Your heart raced everytime you sketched his feathers. It took all of your concentration to keep your hands from shaking as you brushed vibrant purple on the page. Finally, your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the finish piece. Your cheeks reddened under his unblinking gaze. He never said a word. Never judged you. Never left you.

You passed through the never ending tunnels once more. It was later in the day so there were less people enjoying the wisteria blossoms. It was quieter. You listened to the whistling breeze as it blew through the tunnel. You reached above your head to softly caress the dangling flowers. 

They provided a calm presence to your aching heart. They would always be there. Forever and always.

When you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks. There he was. The boy was still here, leaning against the cage wall that separated the tunnel from the endless greenery behind it. But what stuck out to you the most was the paper. That was currently in his hand. That he was currently studying.

You watched as he flipped the paper back and forth, going from the drawing to the words. A deep pang of fear pounds on your chest with each flip.

Then you saw it.

A smile.

You felt your cheeks reddened. Even though you’ve only met him twice, this was a rare sight to see. Every time you tried to sketch a smile on his face, it was tricky. It never looked right. Always looked out of place. It seemed that your creative mind could not even fathom what a smile would look like on his face. 

That is until now.

It was small. Anybody else would have thought he just stopped frowning. But you could see a small lift up the corners of his mouth, a crinkle on his nose, and a twinkle in his dark purple eyes. His face looked more relaxed. Still tired, but more serene. 

This was the last piece of your puzzle. Everything made perfect sense. Maybe he wasn’t much of an enigma as you first thought. 

But just as fast as his smile appeared, it vanished. The purple haired boy folded the paper and shoved it in his pocket. He was gone once more.

You let out a deep sigh as you tried to control your fluttering heart. You pressed your hand to your face as you tried to hide your reddened cheeks and wide smile. 

He smiled. 

Your painting made him smile.

He liked your painting.

From that moment on, you vowed to yourself that you would see his smile once more. 

Your initial fear of revealing your art disappeared. It was overpowered by your desire and passion to see the purple haired boy smile and enjoy your paintings. You rarely shared your works with others, afraid that they may judge you or deem your paintings hideous. But he changed that. Seeing him smile at your painting made you want to show him more and see his reactions. 

Inspiration struck you once again. 

The very next day, you found yourself sitting under the same wisteria tree. Your eyes focused on the sketchbook sitting on your lap as you drew the crowds of people walking along the gardens. A young girl pulling her mother towards the hanging wisterias and pointing eagerly at them. An elderly group of ladies slowly walking through the path and enjoying nature’s tranquility. A young couple strolling hand in hand as they smiled at one another. 

As you were finishing up your outline, you felt a familiar presence standing above you. From the corner of your eyes, you saw him take a seat to your left as he silently waited for you to finish. You smiled as you studied the page. All it needed as a splash of color, but that could wait.

You looked up from your lap and gave him a small smile. 

The boy visibly gulped and looked away from your face, the familiar deep frown adorning his face. “Sorry about yesterday and the day before.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled as you reflexively hugged your sketchbook against your chest. The need to run enveloped your whole body, but you forced yourself to sit and stay. You didn’t want to ruin another chance with him.

He let out a grunt and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and held it towards you. “I think this is yours. I found it after you left.”

Your eyes blinked owlishly as you stared at the piece of paper. Your mind immediately thought back to his smile from yesterday. You shook your head. “Keep it.”

He nodded and shoved the paper back into his pocket. “It’s really good.” You look up at him in confusion. He coughed into his fist. “Your painting. It’s really good.”

You smiled down at your lap as you slowly released your constrictive hold on your sketchbook. “Do you, um, do you want to see?” With shaky hands, you revealed your latest sketch. However, you immediately regretted your decision. You bit your lip as you eyes trailed over the hideous mistakes that marred the paper. An awkward stance. An ugly smudge. An unfinished piece. But it was too late. Your sketchpad was already in his hands. You prepared yourself for the negative comments you knew would come your way.

“You’re really talented.” Your eyes widened in disbelief as you looked at the purple haired boy. While he appeared to give off an aloof presence, his enchanting eyes held a different meaning. What an enigma.

You smiled at him and quietly thanked him as you took your sketchpad back. You flipped to another page and ripped out your finished painting of the wisteria tunnel. He raised a brow as he watched you scribble something on the back of the paper. You folded the piece of paper and shoved it into his hand. 

By the time he opened the paper, you had your sketchpad nestled in your arm and bag slung on your shoulders. It was time to go. 

“Wait!” You turned back around and felt your heart skip a beat. There it was again. His smile. The wind blew a light breeze that caused the hanging wisterias to wave back and forth around both of you. But your senses were solely focused on his smile and that way it made your heart flutter once again. “Shinso. Shinso Hitoshi.”

You smiled back at him and made your way back into the garden. A silent promise was made under the hanging wisteria vines. A promise to see each other once again. 

#shinso hitoshi #shinso x reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinso fluff #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #flower collab #wisteria #bnha server collab #my writing #just abstract things

[moon-stars01]

~Sugar Rush~

Hoshi x Reader

Author:pseudomint

Summary: Kwon soonyoung finds himself becoming a regular customer in a local ice cream shop after meeting mingyu’s cute co-worker. Sounds normal—unless you leave out the fact that he dislikes sweets.

Pairing:Hoshi(Svt) x reader

Gene:Collage/University,Ice Cream polar,attempt at humor,flirting,Smitten Hoshi,Mingyu third wheeling,Jun and his pick up lines

Rating:Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count:6100

———————-

~SUGAR RUSH~

Hoshi stares at the cute, pastel building, decorated with stickers of ice cream illustrations on the big, glass windows and door. He checks his phone screen once again, only to see the exact picture of the building he found on the internet glaring back at him mockingly.

This is the place. He finally knows where Mingyu’s secret workplace is. Don’t ask him where he got the address from (he might have.. owed a certain pink haired devil named Jeonghan). All he has to do now is to storm inside the ice cream shop and make fun of Mingyu for all it’s worth.

Being friends with that guy for a long time, Hoshi has a vague idea of why would Mingyu hide his workplace. The guy has always been vocal about his worship for anything hip-related, evident by his love for classic Pop, several ear piercings, and fashion style. He’s studying art so that he can become a tattoo artist. Moreover, he has a history as a delinquent back in middle school.

So, working in a local, cute ice cream shop near their campus might not be included in Mingyu’s list of Top 10 Dream Jobs, even as a part-timer.

Hoshi stifles a grin as he pushes the door open, earning a chime from the bell above. The shop is quite vacant, save for three customers, minding their own businesses in three different seats, the ice cream on their plates or cups half-eaten. One of them is bobbing their head to the popular pop song that is heard through the wall speakers. As Hoshi continues to scan the pastel themed shop, his eyes finally land on the glass display, filled with various flavors and colors of ice cream.Hoshi can already feel a toothache—he’s never been a fan of sweets, after all.

Noticing the absence of the employees behind the counters, Hoshi spots a bell placed beside the cash register. His hand hovers above it, uncertain whether calling the shop clerk with a damn bell is even polite—obviously, this isn’t some kind of five-star gourmet restaurant. Not that Hoshi has ever been into one.

Thankfully, before Hoshi could dive further into his impromptu crisis, an employee emerges from the back door. He’s wearing a pastel blue uniform shirt and a pink apron with the shop’s logo on the left side of his chest. Such soft colors, contrast with the dark scowl on his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here, bastard?” Mingyu snarls, clearly aggravated by the mere of Hoshi’s presence alone.

And Hoshi can’t hold it back anymore. He laughs, folding his body in half, one hand clutching his gut as the other supports himself by gripping the counter. Fuck, this is funnier than he initially thought. No matter how he imagined it, the image of Mingyu and a cute ice cream shop just can’t be merged. Yet, here he is—the reality presented right before Hoshi’s eyes.Hoshi wheezes again.

“Stop fucking laughing,” Mingyu hisses, hands clenching on both of his sides. His face is flushed from anger with a mixture of embarassment. “This is why I’d never fucking tell you about this place!”

“Oh, it’s never about the place, ‘Mingyu,”Hoshi replies, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. “It’s always been about you.”

Mingyu growls. “I’m seriously gonna kick you out.”

“I’m a paying customer,” Hoshi smirks back. “Treat me like one.”

“Then act like one,” Mingyu snaps, folding his arms across his chest, frown deepening. “Though I bet you can’t even handle the sweetness.”“Gimme the menu.”

“There’s one behind me, written on the chalkboard, asshole.”

“Wow, brilliant customer service,” Hoshi deadpans. “Don’t you have the printed one or something?”

“Aren’t you spoiled?” the hipster grumbles as he magically pulls out a menu, printed on a laminated paper from behind the counter. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to slap it against Hoshi’s chest.The act, however, is caught by one of Mingyu’s co-worker who’s suddenly coming out of the back room.

“Mingyu-oppa! Why did you do that to a customer?!” She screeches, horrified at her oppa’s rude behavior. She’s way shorter than Mingyu, and shorter than Kazuya. She has a (h/s) (h/c) hair that somehow looks soft and fluffy as the strands bounce everytime she moves.When their eyes finally meet,Hoshi’s lost the ability to speak.

Now, Hoshi’s never been one to believe in love at first sight, albeit having heard the idea of it in many sappy romance films. Hoshi’s also met many girls he considers as good-looking, but that’s it. There were no imaginary flowers or love-shaped bubbles or sprinkles of glitters around them, like a typical page of shoujo mangas. He didn’t feel his heart pounding harshly against his ribcages. He’s positive that he had never blushed at someone without any good reason.But his cheeks have never felt warmer than this moment.

The girl in front of him is unbelievably cute; she has an air of innocence around her that makes Hoshi want to scoop her up (no ice cream puns intended) in his arms and pinch those slightly chubby, round cheeks. Her cute button nose is perfect for a nose boop, and oh, how Hoshi wishes to nip her pink, plump lips.The girl’s tongue darts out to lick the very same lips, before she opens her mouth.

“Um.. are you okay? Is my co-worker hurting you?” She asks, brows furrowing in worry. Hoshi forces himself to look at her in the eyes, which is apparently a bad decision, because for the love of baseball, he’s never seen someone having such beautiful, molten e/c eyes—

“He’s fine,” Mingyu answers, shooting Hoshi a knowing look. “Sadly, I gotta admit that he’s a friend of mine, so don’t worry about him, y/n.”

“Oh!” Y/n brightens up, giving Hoshi an impression of a cute dog perking up its ears and wagging its tail. “Finally this l/n y/n gets to meet one of Mingyu-oppa’s friends!” She says joyfully with a voice a bit too loud. “May I also have the honor of knowing your name?”

Hoshi briefly glances at Mingyu, as if asking whether he should be concerned of Y/n’s odd, archaic way of speaking, but Mingyu’s expression works as a wordless assurance that it’s nothing to be worried about.Then, after eyeing Y/n’s extended arm as an offer for a handshake, Hoshi takes it firmly with a smirk.

“The name’s Kwon Soonyoung but you can call me Hoshi,” he purrs, his thumb tracing a circle on the back of Y/n’s hand. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Y/n.”His smirk broadens when a blush blooms on the girl’s cheeks.

“Uh—likewise!” Y/n retracts her hand too quickly. “Um, I’ll let you proceed with your order with Mingyu-oppa—“

“The thing is,” Hoshi cuts her off, leaning on the counter, showing a feigned, saddest expression on his face. “Mingyu was bullying me,” he sighs. The said guy promptly sputters a series of denials. “And this is my first time here. I think I deserve a discount for the bad customer service, don’t you think?”

Y/n lets out a scandalized gasp, giving Mingyu a nasty, chiding glare for treating their customer poorly, even if they’re ‘friends.’ “Then you have my approval!” She declares, jabbing a proud thumb at her own chin. “Don’t worry! I’ll tell boss about the discount later! Now, please pick any flavors!”Hoshi’s mouth twitches as a bubble of laughter arises from his chest. This kid is so gullible, so genuine, so interesting. He almost feels bad for tricking him.Mingyu kicks Y/n’s legs, “Idiot! Can’t you see that he’s tricking you?!”

When y/n shoots a puzzled look at Hoshi, Hoshi’s laughter breaks free from his mouth. In return, he gets a bristling y/n who goes out of her way to be on the other side of the counter just to shake Hoshi’s collar and send him colorful insults. Not the most professional thing an employee should do to a customer, but it’s worth for Hoshi’s own entertainment.In the end, Hoshi’s the one who gets kicked out of the shop before he causes more commotions.

Hoshi comes back at Mingyu’s next shift, mentally convincing himself that he’s here to annoy the hell out of the hipster, not because Mingyu accidentally reveals the fact that y/n has the same schedule with him.Yeah, right.

He peeks over the big windows, and hesitates. The shop is more crowded than his last visit, as expected from weekends. It’s mostly filled with couples and giggling high school girls. Hoshi decides to sit on the unoccupied outdoor seats by the window, waiting for the beeline to lessen.

Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for the patrons to decrease. By the time he enters the shop, the jingle of the doorbell earns him an automatic response from y/n who’s not even looking at the door. “Welcome to—“ she glances at Hoshi, then frowns. “—oh, it’s you.”

“Oh? Do I see another bad customer service?” Hoshi smirks, strutting closer the counter.

“I’ll show you customer service,” Mingyu threatens, glowering at him.

Hoshi holds up his hands in defense, grinning, “easy there, ‘Mingyu”

“So, are you going to order, Kwon Soonyoung?” Y/n squints at him in suspicion. Pushing aside his inner glee of noticing a mundane detail such as Y/n remembering his full name, Hoshi ponders of giving her an honest reply or not. Will they kick him out once again if he admits that he can barely handle sweet things?

“Hoshi?” Y/n’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his previous scorn is replaced with an owlish blinking. It makes Kazuya more aware of how y/n’s long eyelashes brush her cheeks whenever she closes her eyelids for a brief second.Pretty.“Hoshi!”Hoshi coughs and answers distractedly. “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll order something.”

Mingyu stares at him like he’s grown a pair of horns, but it’s more like that he can’t seem to grasp that Hoshi, of all people, agrees to order something sweet.

“You sound uncertain, but worry not! The ice cream here will change your mind,” Y/n chirps with an eye smile. Hoshi can feel a thousand of cupid arrows piercing through his fragile, gay heart.

“Right, because Hoshi absolutely loves ice cream,” Mingyu mutters under his breath beside his co-worker with a blatant sarcastic tone.Y/n doesn’t seem to hear it, much to Hoshi’s relief.

“So...” Hoshi drawls, scrutinizing the menu near the cash register. “Do you have a flavor that isn’t too...” he grimaces at the next word, “sweet?”

“That’s impossible, go home.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mingyu.”

“I can recommend you some,” Y/n replies, ignoring Mingyu and Hoshi’s glaring contest. “We have wasabi flavor, bitter melon flavor—“

“Some extreme recommendations you have there,” Hoshi sweatdrops.

“Hey! They taste fine, I guess,” Y/n looks hesitant herself. Hoshi wonders if the girl even understands basic marketing strategies—she could’ve at least pretended to be confident with her promotion. “I mean, I’m sure they’re better than natto flavored ice cream or anything.”

“You hate natto?” Hoshi smiles in amusement, inwardly happy to know one fact about Y/n.

“I despise it!” Y/n huffs, not even bothering to conceal her disgust. “Anyway! If you’re not interested with our out-of-the-world flavors, maybe you’d love our triple shot espresso ice cream! If you’re still not convinced, we still have a variety of diet frozen yogurts that are guaranteed to be low-sugar!”Hoshi hums at the mention of anything caffeine-related, “triple shot espresso ice cream doesn’t sound bad. Get me the smallest cup, y/n.”

“Roger!” Y/n beams, giving a military salute before she busies herself with Hoshi’s order. Her moves behind the counter are swift, practiced, and surprisingly not clumsy. Her hips sway a little to the beat of the music—whose great idea it is to play a suggestive jazz music at a fucking ice cream shop in Saturday afternoon?—but Hoshi’s not really complaining. In fact, he enjoys the show a bit too much; he doesn’t even realize that he’s been propping one arm on the counter to support his chin while watching y/n with a mushy smile.“Wipe that disgusting expression off your face,” Mingyu comments, unimpressed.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? As if I could overlook someone who looks like they’re seconds away from jumping my co-worker in public!” Mingyu hisses this time, still considerate enough to lower his volume.“Don’t worry, I’ll do that in private,” Hoshi winks.

“That’s not what I—“

“Do you want any additional toppings, Hoshi?” Y/n unintentionally interrupts their bickering. She’s now holding a small paper cup of a coffee-colored ice cream, head slightly to the side in an adorable manner, waiting for Hoshi’s response.

Although Hoshi’s brain is already short-circuited due to the amount of metaphorical sweetness that Y/n radiates, he still manages to croak out a reply of “almonds are fine”, in hoping that if the ice cream is still too sweet for his liking, the almonds would be able to balance the sugar.

Mingyu handles the payment without initiating any arguments with Hoshi for once, probably wanting to speed up the process of Hoshi leaving the shop. Either way, Hoshi has to leave indeed. He has other things to do, too.

“Thank you for purchasing, please come again~” come a chorus of synchronized phrase from Mingyu and Y/n; the former sounding bored and forced, while the latter sounding more cheerful.“I will,” Hoshi retorts jocosely, then flicks his gaze over Y/n, “if Y/n calls me her oppa, too.”

“Okay, Hoshi-oppa,” y/n breathes out without missing a beat. Her face instantly bursts into a myriad shades of red, complemented by a small, shy smile etched on her lips, and-Hoshi suddenly thinks he has a severe case of heart palpitations.

He inhales sharply, and turns his heels towards the door. “It’s decided, then,” he chuckles over his shoulder, giving his last smirk towards y/n, and exits the shop.

(He eats his ice cream on the way to his apartment and is genuinely surprised at the rich taste of coffee instead of sugar.It adds one more reason to visit the shop again.)

 Hoshi’s next visit includes an unwanted guest, much to Hoshi’s distaste.

For a better term, he was following Hoshi in secret. Usually, Hoshi would easily sense something behind his back, but the particular street that the ice cream shop is located at is always busy. It’s to be expected from a street that connects commercial, academic and several residential buildings. That being said, the crowd of people makes it hard for Hoshi to notice whether someone is following him or not.In the end, Jun makes his presence known loudly by the time he enters the shop.

“Oi, Hoshi! You refused to hang out with me just to buy some ice cream?!” he stomps his foot on the ground. “Wait, I thought you don’t like ice—“

Hoshi, who’s currently leaning on the counter right in front of Y/n, automatically massages the bridge of his nose and quickly interjects the purple haired before he spouts something unnecessary. “Jun, did you really follow me all the way here?”

“Does it matter?” the purple haired shrugs, sticking his nose up in the air. “I’m here now. That’s what you get from ditching me.”

Hoshi sighs in exasperation, “I did not ditch you. I told you to reschedule our hang out.”

“Same thing,” Jun scoffs stubbornly.

Mingyu bashes his forehead on the counter, emitting a depressed aura all over the shop. “Great. There goes all of my peace at work.”

“Oh, Mingyu! Fancy meeting you here!” Jun greets with a grin. “So you’re the reason why Hoshi’s here?”

“No,” both Mingyu and Hoshi say flatly.

“Um, are you going to order?” Y/n, who’s been observing the situation, speaks up, attracting a pair of black orbs towards him. Then, Jun regards Hoshi and Y/n, back and forth, in a thoughtful manner.

“Oh ho? I see now,” he grins wickedly, elbowing Hoshi to the side and takes over his place, resulting in the dancer stumbling and hitting the glass display of ice cream. Paying no attention to Hoshi’s heated glare, Jun leans over the counter and brings his face closer to Y/n. “You’re pretty cute, I guess. Hoshi has a good taste.”Y/n makes a choking noise from her throat, and Hoshi’s left eye twitches.

“Who the heck are you?” Y/n scrunches her nose, taking one step backwards defensively.

“Wen Junhui, but you can call me darling,” Jun smiles flirtatiously. Y/n only stares back with a palpable discomfort on her face.

“...Then, are you going to order?” She repeats hesitantly.

“Sure. As long as you’re included as the bonus.”

“Uh,” y/n frowns deeper. “May I know the flavor of your choice?”

“Anything would do,” Jun answers, “but if you were an ice cream, you’d be my favorite flavor.”

“What?”

“And I know you’d like me too,” jun then lowers his voice into a whisper, like he’s going to tell the world’s deepest secret, “because I have an 8” popsicle down there.”

Mingyu’s shoulders are shaking from laughter, finding the whole situation amusing and ridiculous. Any other day, Hoshi would, too, but right now, he only feels a second-hand embarassment from Jun’s abhorrent pick-up lines. Even y/n looks utterly unimpressed by Jun’s flirting.

“Alright, Jun, that’s enough,” Hoshi interjects impatiently. “No one wants to know about your nonexistent 8” popsicle dick.”Mingyu laughs louder.

“Tch, you’re no fun, Hoshi,” Jun glares at him childishly, then whirls his body towards Y/n crossing his arms in his usual bossy manner. “Fine, I’ll order something. Get me a big cup of butterscotch and vanilla ice cream with marshmallows and oreos on top.”

“...Coming right up,” slightly taken aback by the change of attitude, y/n mutters and wordlessly scoops the ice cream into the cup, while Hoshi is inwardly cringing from the amount of sugar Jun’s order has.

The purple haired pays and finally leaves the shop, not before gesturing a V-sign to his eyes and then to Hoshi’s—indicating that their conversation isn’t over.

Hoshi shakes his head. “There’s nothing to be discussed in the first place,” he mumbles under his breath. Jun dragged himself into this situation. Then again, Hoshi’s known Jun long enough to tell that the purple haired wasn’t seriously flirting with Y/n. The dancer could properly make his fangirls swoon if he wanted to.

Looking back to his prior act, however... it’s almost as if he was testing Hoshi, because his eyes were holding a familiar knowing gleam—the exact glint in Mingyu ’s eyes when Hoshi first met y/n.

“But seriously, who is he?!” Y/n fumes. “I can’t believe he made a dick joke straight to my face!”

“He’s Hoshi’s ex,” Mingyu grins, nudging

y/n with his elbow. The younger blanches, mouth gaping upon hearing the information.

“Yup, and I’m totally dating you, Mingyu,” Hoshi rolls his eyes.

“R-really?!” Y/n’s eyes grow as wide as a saucer. Hoshi bites back a grin, almost forgetting how gullible Y/n is.

“Relax, we’re lying,” he snorts. “Can I take my order now?”

“Oh, right!” Y/n straightens her back, although she doesn’t seem to be convinced by Hoshi’s reassurance.

Hoshi selects the exact menu he ordered on his last visit, although this time he chooses a cone rather than a paper cup. He also makes a mental note to try another variety of topping next time.

“You two looks close,” y/n comments all of a sudden as she works behind the counter. It doesn’t take a genius to know who Y/n is talking about.“Jun’s my childhood friend,” Hoshi

smiles, quirking an eyebrow at Y/n’s pout. She’s sulking, for some unknown reason, albeit Hoshi has a silly, vague (and hopeful) idea of it. “Rest assured, there’s nothing between us,” Hoshi continues, watching how Y/n subtly relaxes her shoulders. “That goes for me and Mingyu, too,” she adds as an afterthought. Mingyu has never nodded so aggresively.

“That explains why you guys are on a first name basis,” Y/n says abashedly, avoiding Hoshi’s gaze. “B-but! Your relationship is none of my business, of course! This

l/n y/n was just curious, please forgive me for prying!”

Still blushing, she shoves the cone under Hoshi’s nose. Hoshi chuckles and takes it, purposely brushing their fingers together, deepening y/n’s blush. Satisfaction sprouts inside his chest—even without any cheesy pick-up lines, y/n’s naturally a blushing mess around him.Adorable.

“This is sickening to watch,” Mingyu groans, “now pay up, bastard.”

Out of reflex, Hoshi gives him another snide remarks about bad customer service (again), to which Mingyu retaliates with another empty threats.

The doorbell jingles as two chatting customers enter the shop, and at the same time, it’s Hoshi’s cue to leave. He looks back at Y/n, who’s unexpectedly staring at him in silence, and grins cheekily when Y/n flinches due to being caught.“See you next time,” Hoshi says in soft tone, before he playfully boops y/n’s on the nose.

Y/n doesn’t—can’t—reply because she has to serve the next customers, but she manages to send a meek smile towards Hoshi’s direction.

Fuck, Hoshi thinks later, as he ambles back to his place. He can’t believe he finally had the balls to nose boop y/n. He can’t erase y/n’s blushing face from his mind. He can’t stop smiling giddily right now—passersby are probably whispering about him, but he couldn’t care less.All he cares is that he’s honestly in some deep shit.

~~~~~~

 Hoshi spends the next few weeks coming to the ice cream shop. He sometimes misses a day or two, partially due to being exhausted by dancing practice or just college in general. Another reason is because he’s fed up with eating ice cream (no matter how much he’s come to tolerate it a little ever since coming to the shop) and his diet as an athlete doesn’t allow him to overeat anything sweet. Which is ridiculous, since he doesn’t have other excuses to see Y/n; visiting the shop frequently without buying anything would be weird. Though, as days go by, he becomes more creative with his orders, like switching to low-sugar frozen yogurts or an iced Americano float (with the float being removed, much to Y/n’s confusion). Soon, he also finds out the existence of food—such as toasts and grilled sausages—in the shop’s menu.(“You need to stop ogling at Y/n and pay attention to our menu instead,” Mingyu once chastised wryly.)

Regardless, Hoshi enjoys most of his visits. Y/n is a fun person to talk to; Hoshi is often swayed by her personality and ends up being more talkative than he actually is, earning a frown from Mingyu. Later, Y/n reveals that she’s a dancer at Hoshi and Mingyu’s rival college, and she has jokingly asked Hoshi several times to dance against her.Hoshi’s never given an outright answer, however. As much as he wants to meet up with Y/n outside of the shop, he wants it as a date.

And that’s where the problem lies. He doesn’t know how to properly bring it up. He could ask Y/n in the shop, right beside Mingyu, but getting rejected in public would be awkward. In the end, that thought is always buried to the back of his mind.

Today is no different. Hoshi visits the the shop again—after being absent for a week prior—with no intentions of bringing up the date. As usual, he only wants to see the dancer. Even before stepping his feet inside, his heart thumps in anticipation to Y/n’s welcoming smile. So, as soon as he pushes the door open only to notice the absence of one of the workers behind the counters, his face falls.

“Asshole, I should’ve gotten offended of how disappointed your face is when you saw me instead of Y/n,” Mingyu scowls, to which Hoshi grins sheepishly. “She’s gonna be late today. I know what you’re thinking—she’s fine. There aren’t any dangerous emergencies or something like that, calm down.”

“I am calm,” Hoshi replies, burying his hands into his pockets. “I know she’s gonna be fine. She has such a caring co-worker after all,” he smirks at Kuramochi, who huffs in slight embarassment.

“Shut up. Who knows what stupid thing she’s gonna do,” the hipster’s lips curl downwards, an attempt to hold back his smile. “Anyway, since she’s not here yet, I can finally interrogate you.”

“What is there to interrogate?”

“What is y/n to you?” Mingyu ignores his words, giving him a pointed look instead. “If you’re only playing with her, Hoshi, I swear – “

“Oi, can’t you trust me a little?” Hoshi sweatdrops. “Do I look like some kind of heartthrob? You know me better than that, ‘Mingyu.”

“With your face, it’s easy to become one.”

“Very flattering.”

“Anyway, I’m being fucking serious right now,” Mingyu glowers at the dancer solemnly. “Tell me what you want from her.”

Hoshi eventually sighs, and briefly scans the whole shop. Luckily, it’s one of the weekdays, so there aren’t many customers inside. Besides, they’re too engrossed in their conversations or electronical devices to eavesdrop on Hoshi and Mingyu.

“Look, I don’t want anything from her,” Hoshi begins slowly, but he’s only rewarded with a skeptical look from Mingyu. “Okay, maybe I’ve been meaning to ask her on a date, but—“ he narrows his eyes at the hipster. “Wait, she’s single, right?”

“Isn’t it a bit too late to be asking that?” Mingyu purses his lips into a thin line.

“Oh, Hoshi, you’re here!”

Both the hipster and the dancer whip their head alarmingly to the familiar voice. There stands y/n with her trademark grin, her bag slung around her shoulder. Panic blossoms inside of Hoshi’s chest—he didn’t hear the jingle of the doorbell, and judging from Mingyu’s startled response, he didn’t, too. They don’t know how long has the dancer been standing there. It’d be bad if Y/n managed to hear their conversation.

So, Hoshi studies y/n’s facial expression, searching for something, but the dancer only looks perplexed—probably due to Hoshi’s sudden stillness.

“Hoshi?” Y/n blinks up at him, making Hoshi more conscious of their height difference. Eyes trailing down to her neck, the pastel-colored collar of the shop’s uniform peeks out of her oversized sweater that falls until her mid-thigh, with the sleeves covering up her whole hands.

Sweater paws, Hoshi’s mind shuts down as tiny Hoshi’s inside his brain run in circles, screaming “ABORT! ABORT!” with high-pitched voices. She’s fucking wearing sweater paws.

“Hoshi-oppa!” Y/n frowns, successfully drawing Hoshi’s attention. “Don’t zone out like that, you’re scaring me.”

“Right, sorry,” the dancer mutters as he watches Y/n disappearing into the back room, before she shows up again without her sweater while tying the apron on her lower back.

“I see that you haven’t ordered something!” Y/n grins brightly, this time placing both of her hands on her hips. “So, what are you here for today, Hoshi?”

Hoshi, still distracted, racks his brain to all of the menu he’s ordered in the past. Triple shots espresso ice cream with almonds. Iced americano float, but without the float. Wasabi ice cream because he was feeling adventurous. Hazelnut spread and sliced banana on toast—

No, that’s not What hoshi wants all of this time. He wants—

“You,” he blurts out, mumbling, unaware of Mingyu choking in the background. However, when he notices the lack of response from the dancer, the haze in his brain suddenly dissipates, and everything becomes crystal clear again. “Shit, I mean—“

“Okay,” Y/n says, e/c orbs shyly peeking from underneath her lashes towards Hoshi.

“I was—huh, what?” Hoshi pauses, dumbfounded.

“I said okay,” Y/n averts her eyes, playing with the hem of her apron. “You can have me.”

Hoshi stares and stares, trying to process Y/n’s affirmation. That sounds too suggestive—too good to be true. Maybe his brain is tricking him. Maybe this is only a scene that he unconsciously creates inside his mind which is brought to life in a form of hallucination.

But when Y/n starts to fidget under his gaze, Hoshi lets his brain register the fact that this is, indeed, a reality.

As the gears inside him begin to work again, Hoshi doesn’t pass the chance to poke some fun at Y/n’s answer which basically serves as a free teasing material for Hoshi to use.

“Oh? How bold,” he then comments, smirking in satisfaction as he observes how realization gradually dawns on Y/n’s face.

“I didn’t mean to phrase it like that!” the dancer exclaims defensively, her cheeks now tainted with red. “Y-you were the one who blurted out weird things in the first place!”

“Sorry, sorry~” Hoshi grins unapologetically, to which Y/n pouts at. “But, as tempting as it sounds, you should let me take you on a date first, y’know,” he continues, his playful grin faltering a little due to slight nervousness.

To his relief, Y/n utters a timid “okay” and nods, a tint of pink still decorating her cheeks. At that, Hoshi doesn’t bother to hide the ever-growing smile on his lips and an excited glance to Mingyu who’s pretending to read a magazine and acting all disinterested, albeit the small curl on the corner of his mouth tells otherwise.

The next thing Hoshi knows is him exchanging phone numbers with the dancer and discussing their date in a short stretch of time due to the arrival of a group of customers.

Hoshi doesn’t get any ice cream that day, but he does get something—someone—sweeter in return.

 ~Three months later~

 Hoshi sips on his hot, black coffee, the steam fogging up the lenses of his glasses. He steps aside when a patron comes out of the shop hurriedly, but he manages to halt the door from closing with his right knee. Hoshi then opens the door big enough for his body to get inside as the familiar chime of the doorbell greets his ears. The shop is silent, empty without customers, highly caused by the “CLOSED” sign on the door with a red, thick font.“I’m sorry, we’re already closed—“ Y/n says from Hoshi’s left side while stacking some brochures. When she finally turns her head towards the door, a beatific smile appears on her face. “Oh! Hoshi.”

Hoshi smiles back, placing his coffee on the counter and leans towards Y/n, to which the latter eagerly closes the gap between their mouths. They share a quick kiss as a greeting, before Hoshi withdraws slightly.

“Hey,” he murmurs, lips brushing over

y/n’s. He steals one or two more kisses, just because he can’t help himself.

“Hi to you too,” Y/n whispers, giggling. Hoshi cradles his lover’s cheeks with one of his palms, prompting Y/n to nuzzle against it. From here, he can also make out Y/n’s e/c eyes twinkling in delight—so captivating and blinding that it stupefies him.

“For someone who’s on her last day of work, you sure look happy,” Hoshi comments, arching an amused brow.

“I am happy!” Y/n replies, pulling away fully to finish her tidying duty. She moves swiftly behind the counters, the sole of her shoes creating noisy sounds against the tiled floor. “But not in a way you’re thinking.”

“Enlighten me, then,” Hoshi says, bringing the paper cup of his half-drunk coffee to his mouth and takes a sip.

“I like this job,” Y/n confesses, finishing her work and untying her apron. “My co-workers are nice, and my boss is generous to give me discounted ice cream.”

“I think the latter plays a bigger part,” Hoshi teases, knowing Y/n’s sweet tooth.

“Shut up,” the dancer juts her tongue out. “Meeting you here is what makes this job more special,” Y/n casually states, offering a smug smirk at Hoshi’s flabbergasted expression.

“Wow, Y/n,” he breathes out, before whistling with a shake of head. “You sure become bolder with your words nowadays.”

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?!”Y/n questions, pupils turning cat-like.Hoshi hums. “Well, you used to blush so much around me—“

“That’s – “ as if on cue, red creeps up to y/n’s cheek. “That’s because you always gave me those kind of eyes and used that kind of voice—!”

“What about now?”hoshi smirks, revelling in the way Y/n gets all worked up because of him. A nasty personality he has, indeed.

“Ugh, I’m not gonna talk about it!” the dancer scrunches her nose, a habit that Hoshi’s taken to notice whenever Y/n is frustrated. “Anyway! I was talking why I feel happy to quit work! It’s because I can spend more time with you now!”If Hoshi’s heart pulsates rapidly due to the abrupt swarm of affections in his veins, he does a great job of hiding it. “The real reason why you quit is because of the upcoming dancer season. We’d still be busy, either way,” he points out instead.

“Must you be so pessimistic, Hoshi?” Y/n pouts, looking a little dejected. Hoshi exhales guiltily.

“My bad,” he chuckles, ruffling the crown of Y/n’s head. “You know that I’d always try to make time for you, right, Y/n?”

“Of course you do, you whipped asshole. Only you would come to a shop that sells something you dislike.”

“Mingyu-oppa!” Y/n jumps due to

Mingyu’s unannounced appearance from the back room, before gawking at his revelation. “Wait, what? Does Hoshi not like ice cream?”

“Ask him yourself,” Mingyu shrugs.

Y/n immediately whirls towards Hoshi, displaying her best puppy face to lure the truth out of her boyfriend. And concede Hoshi does, not before shooting daggers at a snickering Mingyu.

“Yes, y/n, I don’t eat much sweets. You happy now?” he admits reluctantly, tugging the collar of his jacket in embarassment.

“Oh my god, Hoshi!” Sawamura bounces on her feet. “After all of this time, you didn’t come here for the ice cream?!”

Hoshi sighs, not before downing the remnant of his coffee and throwing it in the nearest trash bin. “I don’t see what the issue is. It’s not like I exactly loathe ice cream, I just can’t handle it if it’s too sweet—“Y/n, however, wastes no time to approach Hoshi on the other side of the counter, circling her arms around Hoshi’s neck and kisses him hard on the mouth.

The hipster groans in agony, covering his face with his right palm. “This isn’t the outcome that I wanted,” he bemoans, lamenting in his misery.

Hoshi laughs nasally, eyes closing in pure mirth as Y/n continues to pepper kisses on his face. It eggs Mingyu even more as he seethes in irritation.“Okay, stop it, Y/n! Why the fuck are you so pleased at the idea of Hoshi trying to get himself diabetes for you?”

“Oi, that’s too exaggerating, don’t you think?” Hoshi sweatdrops.

Y/n ends her ministration and frowns at Mingyu. “But Mingyu-oppa! If I were in Hoshi’s shoes, I’d do the same! But currently he’s not working in a natto-based restaurant or something, so I shall reward his bravery in some other way!”

“Don’t do it here,” Mingyu snaps, “I’ve cleaned and locked all shit in the back room while you were busy with that idiot. Grab your bag and sweater and just go home.”Teary-eyed, Y/n beams brightly, “I express my sincerest gratitude for you,

Mingyu-oppa!” She exclaims, before dashing to the back room to collect her belongings.“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu waves her off, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t read too much into it. It’s my last day too, figures I’d do more than usual.”

“Aw, it wouldn’t hurt to admit that you care for her, ‘Mingyu,” Hoshi coos.

“And you!” Mingyu then throws the dancer a resentful look. “You owe me for all of the time you’ve made me into a fucking thirdwheel, bastard!”

At that moment, Y/n has come back, already clad in her warm, oversized sweater, and proceeds to stand next to Hoshi. That’s when an idea strikes him.

“Thirdwheel?” Hoshi asks, tilting his head at Mingyu in a faux innocuousness. He pulls his unsuspecting girlfriend closer by the waist, to which Y/n lets out a soft gasp. “Whatever do you mean by that, Mingyu?”

“Huh?” Mingyu croaks out, widening his eyes when Hoshi lowers his head to Y/n’s face with a shit-eating grin.

“What are you – shit, don’t you two dare making out again – give me a damn break, I’m trying to close the shop here! If you two don’t stop right now, I’m gonna kick out both of you with a fucking broom – oi, did you hear me?! Alright, for fuck’s sake, Y/n, save the moan for later and GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE—“

#hoshi-x-reader #hoshi #kpop #seventeen #stories #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #hoshi fanfic #kwon soonyoung

[sakusascandle]

━ ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ sᴇᴛᴛᴇʀs ᴀs ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀs

a/n: just a few headcanons I have of a few of the setters as teachers! feel free to drop smth in the inbox ^^

characters included: akaashi,atsumu,kenma,sugawara,oikawa

━ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ

- This guy would be one of those teachers that’d be constantly late no matter the day. He’d always be at least 5 or 10 minutes late which definitely concerned some students, but they were happy about the fact that a bit of class time was gone.

- He’d always forget to bring a piece of chalk/marker for the board. It always results in him asking a student for one or borrowing one off of another teacher, and the chances of him returning them are slim to none. 

- Most classrooms always have a few bad apples. Some always disrupt the the lesson or just downright piss off the teacher. Atsumu has a bit of a low temper on some days and wouldn’t hesitate to insult whoever annoyed him and would say so in a rough tone.

- He’s always dressed casually, always wearing some sort of hoodie or a v-neck shirts with jeans. He doesn’t put much effort into dressing formally for his job.

- He’s surprisingly good at his job though, he always tries to put in as much effort as possible to make sure that everybody understands the material. 

- Whenever a student asks about his life or other questions of the sort, he’d always mention his brother in some way and then ends it off with him talking about how he’s the superior one out of the two.

━ ᴋᴇɴᴍᴀ

- He always comes into class looking absolutely exhausted. Dark circles always looking prominent as per usual. 

- He wouldn’t put much effort into topics he wasn’t interested in teaching, so for those times he’d usually just get a documentry up and let it play for the whole hour or so. He’d be seen doing work on the computer or playing a video game on his phone or a small console.

- If there’s a topic he’s passionate about and genuinely interested in, he would explain with incredible detail and even drop in his insights and analysis, which his students find very informative and it actually keeps the class engrossed in his words.

- He’d usually not give much homework as he has no interest in correcting work. He generally doesn’t give many tests either, if he had to give one, he’d give a pretty easy one which isn’t worth stressing about.

- Kenma is an analytical guy, so if he notices that a student is having trouble with a topic in his class then he makes sure to help out and

- Playing Kahoot is a pretty regular activity done in his class. It’s almost a must. He’d always secretly join in and would name himself the same thing every game and would completely demolish his class. Everyone wonders who ‘applepi’ is every time they see them rest their high throne on the number one spot. Kenma does reveal his identity at the end of the year though, and every student is at complete shock.

- He’d sometimes overhear his students talk about their highest scores in video games and he never fails to stop his small smirk from forming.

- There’s always a quiet atmosphere and vibe in his classroom, that he and certain students appreciate. 

━ ᴀᴋᴀᴀsʜɪ

- This man ALWAYS has his shit together. Probably one of the most organised ones. He’d always greet his students with the warmest smile everyday :(((

- They way he explains his material is always so clear and precise, everybody has a great grasp on the information that he provides and generally, the class does quite well.

- Like Kenma, he’s an analytical and observant guy. If he notices that a student is struggling with his class he will always offer assistance and will discuss why they’re having a difficult time and what they can do to chance things.

- He’d regularly check up on his students and makes sure they’re doing well mentally and physically, if there were any problems he’d always lent in an ear and try to make his students feel as safe and comforted as possible.

- The workload he gives isn’t much, he gives a healthy amount. He’d rarely give out big projects to do and always acknowledges the effort going into assignments. 

- He always has extra stationary available so whenever students and a few certain teachers forgets something he’d always have spares. But he still encourages them to bring in their own materials but understands if they forget certain things.

- If he notices that a student may not be doing too well mentally he’d always make sure to make time after class to talk to them.

- He’d drop in a few witty remarks here and there which always win a few giggles from the class. There are times where he questions his teaching abilities and wonders if he’s doing a good job, but whenever he looks at his students he soon discards that thought.

━ sᴜɢᴀᴡᴀʀᴀ

- He somehow always knows all the school gossip and drama that lingers around the halls.

- He’s exceptionally good at calming down a classroom when they start going out of hand. He then returns to teaching as if nothing happened.

- His handwriting is absolutely beautiful. It’s easy to read and his pupils gain pleasure from the satisfaction of the way the chalk piece/ marker flows on the board.

- Whenever students need something to be repeated, no matter how many times they ask he never shows any hints of annoyance and greatly values his students telling him whenever they’re struggling with his class.

- He loves hearing people discuss their week and days, simply seeing his class being in a good mood brings so much joy to him.

- He’s greatly known to be someone with a supportive and sweet nature, so it’s never a surprise to see him being supportive and encouraging to their dreams and goals in life.

- There are some days where his inner chaotic self bursts out and becomes super energetic and jokes around with the class.

- Whenever winter break or something of the sort comes along he always hosts a mini party for the duration of his class.

━ ᴏɪᴋᴀᴡᴀ

- Whoever has him as a teacher is pretty damn lucky. He’s definitely a popular one among the teachers. His classes are pretty well known to be ‘the class with the hot teacher.’

- He always comes in looking pretty damn good and puts a little bit of effort to dress well.

- He definitely has students that are completely obsessed with him and his looks, some would lie about needing help with their work just so they can feel his presence whenever he comes over to their desk to help them out. The looks on their faces whenever he uses a finger to pull up his glasses.

- He always works hard to make sure that his students do well in school and puts a ton of effort into making everything sure his handwriting is readable and always answers questions to the best of his abilities.

- He’d definitely feel a little upset whenever he sees someone struggle as he wants to know what he’s doing wrong, but tries his best to make the material clear to whoever’s looking at him and are completely bewildered.

- If a student is pissing him off he’d very rarely yell, instead he’d just glare at them until he thinks it’s time to get back to whatever he was talking about.

- When correcting tests, I can see him use colourful pens and occasionally adds a few stickers to students that get a high grade. 

- He enjoys playfully joking around with students when the time calls for it but definitely knows when to get serious when he needs to be.

#haikyuu #haikyuu hc #hc #headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #teacher au #haikyuu!! #oikawa #oikawa tooru #tooru #tooru oikawa #oikawa headcanons #tooru headcanons #toru #miya #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu #atsumu headcanons #akaashi #keiji akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi headcanons #kenma #kozume #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kenma headcanons #sugawara #koshi sugawara

[maxrev]

Feels prompt for Knox (or a Shepard of your choice if he's not feeling talky): “ you’re not a machine or— or some thing. you’re a person, and i’m sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise."

Welp, guess Knox felt like talking lol. Here ya go! From this list of prompts      

BIG shout out to @nightmarestudio606 for helping me with the kiss...I haven’t written one in sooo looong lol

            ________________________________________________

What the hell was he doing? He never ran. From anything. Hadn’t since he was four fucking years old. And now, at thirty one, he held many titles: Commander Shepard, Savior of the Galaxy, etc, etc. He’d taken down husks, brutes...hell, even a reaper without a second thought. 

So, why did this particular man have him running for cover, hiding in his own damn cabin no less? Fuck this. 

And yet, he remained where he was, a few steps just inside his cabin door, looking all around but not seeing a thing. The fish tank burbled quietly beside him, fish merrily swimming around; model ships he’d carefully crafted on display in the glass case; a softly squeaking wheel from the hampster - who still wasn’t named - running in circles. All of it a part of his carefully crafted world, even if the fish and hampster had been gifts he’d never have bought on his own. Pets required time and attention he had none to give. 

His world was orderly, meticulously thought out to every minute detail, any possible contingency planned for. Except one apparently. 

Major Kaidan Alenko. Putain de merde.

If was wearing his hardsuit, his vital signs would show his heart rate was up along with his stress levels. As if mocking him, the fish continued to swim, serene and unhurried from one end of the tank and back, not a care in the world. 

“Commander, Major Alenko wishes to speak with you. Would you like me to let him in?” EDI’s voice carried over the speakers above him. 

His cabin. His only sanctuary, such as it was. As the commander, he was available at all times, yet no one ever bothered him here, preferring to stay well away. It seemed there was nowhere left to run. Cornered like a wounded animal and he damn sure felt like one, too. Ready to lash out. Cool heads prevailed, not that he’d ever been accused of having one. The memories of Horizon and Mars mocked him. 

The major was a brilliant soldier and he needed him on the Normandy. He ran a hand over his shorn head in agitation. Okay, okay. I need him on the Normandy. Admitting it turned out to be not as hard as he’d imagined. 

“Commander?”  EDI prodded. 

“Give me five minutes.”  Let the major wait outside, stew a bit in his own thoughts. 

Glancing around the cabin, Knox wondered why he was so damn nervous. Nothing was out of place, all his things meticulously maintained and where they belonged. The only mess to be found were the piles of datapads scattered over the desk. He was having a hard time keeping on top of them. The barrage of information was constant, barely able to read one before another was thrust into his hands. 

Enough. No more stalling. Leaning casually against the ledge along the fish tank, he crossed his arms and ankles. He could give the impression of being relaxed, even if he didn’t feel it. 

“Let him in, EDI.” 

The door slid open. The world narrowed to just one man and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and pushed away a sudden unknown emotion he felt as his eyes landed on Alenko standing on the other side. He waited for the major to make the first move having invaded his refuge.

Stepping inside, the major nodded at Knox, “Commander.” 

So formal. It should put Knox at ease but instead it irritated him. Irrationally so. Wanting to shake the ground beneath Alenko’s feet, he said, “Call me Knox.” 

Thick dark eyebrows rose up in response, surprised. Good. Knox felt more at ease with the knowledge.

“Okay...Knox,” Kaidan drew out the one syllable as if trying out the feel of it. “Then I ask that you call me Kaidan.” 

Knox simply continued to stare at him, not responding. The silence stretched out and his impatience began to grown. He did not like to be kept waiting. 

“Was there something you needed?” His words came out harsher than intended but if it prompted a response, so be it. 

Brown eyes, wariness in their depths, looked away, the tips of Kaidan’s ears becoming pink. Interesting. He rubbed the back of his neck, a tell Knox had seen often when he was unsure about something or embarrassed. Which was it this time? 

“I…” he took a deep breath, then turned an looked Knox right in the eyes, “I wanted to apologize for my distrust back on Mars, for questioning your loyalties. I realize now you’re the commander I’ve known since Eden Prime and I’m happy to fight by your side...sir.” 

Straightening up, Knox strode over slowly, coming to a stop before him, crowding his space. The air around them was charged with electricity. He spoke quietly, calmly, but with steel in his voice, “Only now?”

Kaidan didn’t look away this time. The intensity in his gaze made Knox’s blood heat. There was more going on here than what one could see on the surface. 

“What is it exactly you want from me?” 

Merde! What a loaded question he was asking. Deciding he needed a drink, Knox turned towards his desk where he kept a bottle of whiskey. He splashed some of the amber liquid into a glass, uncaring when it slosed over the side. Maybe the burn as it went down would put him back on solid ground. The ground he’d tried to shake beneath Kaidan’s feet had backfired. This was new territory for him. 

He tossed the whiskey back, turning to hold up his empty glass, "Drink?"   

Kaidan hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. Knox poured another for himself, then handed the other glass over. The major sipped sparingly, eyes widening a fraction in surprise. 

Knox shrugged, "I liked the whiskey you added to the bar. Bought some for myself."

An inadvertent admission. He wandered over to watch the fish, lest Kaidan read more into it. Silence followed his words and he turned to find the major browsing the datapads. Knox bristled at the invasion of his privacy, ready to let fly with harsh words and criticism but his inner voice caught up to him and told him to stop. 

There was nothing more than intel about the war and the crucible and maybe Kaidan would be able to provide some insight, see things from a different angle...as he usually did.

Instead, Knox kept quiet and observed him, refusing to admit to himself he was actually committing to memory every nuance of the man across the room. Suddenly, Kaidan’s body tensed up, fingers coming to rest on one specific datapad. Having so many open, Knox couldn’t remember what intel was in each one and now he was curious at the reason for the strange response. 

"Find something?" 

Kaidan’s hand snapped to his side as if caught in a trap. Placing the unfinished drink on the desk, he turned to leave with an excuse at the ready, "I should go get acquainted with the crew." 

Knox moved quickly, stepping in front of him, so close he could see the variations of color in the expressive brown eyes. His own eyes traveled at leisure over Kaidan’s face; new scars blending with old ones, a few more wrinkles and gray hairs from the passage of time and the stress they were under...a tinge of pink on his cheeks. 

Their eyes locked. For the first time ever, Knox found himself lost. Unable to process the feeling, he did what came natural. He charged ahead. 

The world around them ceased to exist, narrowing down to just the two of them, Kaidan’s breath hitching for a fraction of second before relaxing into the kiss, opening eagerly as Knox slid his tongue inside. Pressing up against him, their feet  tangled and they stumbled across the room, Kaidan’s back stopping them up against the fish tank. Knox planted his palms to each side while Kaidan grasped at his clothing. 

They sank into the kiss, neither willing to be the first to let it end. But end it did, Knox pulling away first. What the fuck was he thinking, kissing a member of his crew? There wasn’t time for personal relationships, death on the horizon or not. Things like this just got messy and caused more problems than he needed right now. Either of them needed. 

He walked back to the desk, leaving Kaidan where he was. How he felt about what happened was of no concern to him. Leaning into his arms, hands pushing the datapads aside, one blinked to life. The one Kaidan had been looking at. On the screen was the Cerberus husk they’d found on Mars where Kaidan had questioned if the terrorist organization had done the same to him. 

Behind him, the door slid open and he heard footsteps as Kaidan left his cabin. 

His voice, raspy and deep with the remnants of their kiss lingering still, floated back to him, “You’re not a machine or— or some thing. You’re a person, Knox, and i’m sorry anyone ever made you feel otherwise, including me." 

#mshenko #mass effect #prompts #writing #maxwrites #ask and I deliver #who boy this kept going #Knox x Kaidan #laelior

[asphalt-cocktail]

Congrats on your followers. If youre still accepting Sunday sins maybe a Roger Taylor one where he finds out that youve never cum through sex. He sees it as a challenge.

AAAHHHH I LOVE THIS TROUPE also I’ll be accepting asks as long as my ask box is open! Today is my last day of class so hopefully through out the week I’ll be able to answer them! Ugh I missed writing for roger

Warning: mentions of masturbation, sex, smut, do not interact if underage (you will be blocked)

Roger and Freddie gawked at you “what the hell do you mean you’ve never cum?” Fred asked you, his face plastered with shock.

You shifted awkwardly, “ i don’t know I just don’t think I ever have.”

“Not even when you... you know” roger said and his eyes glanced downward

“Nah not even when I jerk off myself.” Your face felt hot with embarrassment as the two men exposed your sad and disappointing sex life.

“I bet I could” roger said after a lull in silence.

“What?” You gaped at your friend.

“I said I bet I could make you cum.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “I don’t know rog”

“Come on we’ve been friends for what? 7 years now? We’ve seen eachither naked before I hardly think adding sex would make things awkward between us.” Roger did have a point and from what you could tell from living with him a girl never left displeased.

You glanced at Fred who had a devilish look in his eye like always. He gave you an encouraging head nod “I certainly don’t think I’ve heard any complaints about you roger.” He added trying to gas up his best friend

You let out a puff of air “fine. But i want it to happen naturally, you know? This isnt some sort of doctors appointment.”

And that was how it started.

Did you regret it? Almost.

Since that conversation the sexual tension between you and roger had become explosive and apparent to everyone in the room with the two of you. Today you were at a small dance bar sitting in a back table with the boys, roger had his arm lightly draped around your waist and was rubbing his fingers along the fabric of your shirt.

He trailed his fingers up the dip of your waist and back down do your thighs with the lightest of finger touches while he continued his conversation with Fred, Brian, and John about tour details. You hardly noticed when they began to trail over the swell of your thighs towards the heat between your legs until you suddenly stiffened and glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

Roger was paying you no mind at all. His hand caressed your inner thigh and his thumb slowly in bed closer and closer to the crotch of your jeans. A knot formed in your stomach and you held your breath, nervous for what his next bold move was.

To your disappointment he had pulled away and stood up “drinks anyone?” He asked shaking his empty beer bottle.

“Gin and tonic double” you said handing him your empty glass and letting out a frustrated sigh.

Roger took your glass and winked at you before heading off.

After that night thoughts of roger plagued your mind and kept you awake. What would he feel long in top of you? How did he kiss? What did he sound like?

Your imagination filled your wandering mind as you found yourself sticking a hand down your pants and rubbing circles around your clit. Still no orgasm.

As the week continued you met Fred at their apartment for a dinner party. By dinner party it typically included a lot of drinks and games and very little food.

The sun sank, the sky grew dark and the alcohol flowed in abundance which only caused your constant thinking about roger to increase. Your gaze found him every time he entered the room and followed him as he exited, each time he payed no attention to you.

Until you found him in the kitchen alone making a drink, “hey.” He casually greeted you while glancing over his shoulder.

“Hey.” You breathed out softly.

“So are you having fun?” Roger asked turning and leaning in the kitchen counter.

His gaze made your face heat up and your stomach clench. Suddenly it felt too hot for what you were wearing and his smug ass knew it. “Yeah, it’s great.” You said giving him a tight lipped smile before shifting towards him to make yourself your own drink. 

Roger turned slightly and looked at you, “You look nice.” He said and brushed his arm along your arm. You shivered feeling the cool touch of his hand on your hot shoulder. “Thanks, so do you.” you answered trying to hide how you clenched your thighs to give some sort of pressure between your legs.

A smirk lingered on Roger’s face before his eyes narrowed as he maintained his gaze with you, “Can I kiss you?” He asked standing closer to you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you swallowed thickly, “Yeah... Sure... yeah.” You said breathing out as his hand raised and cupped your face.

The kiss was languid and smooth and you could taste the vodka soda and cigarettes on his lips. As Roger deepened the kiss he pulled you closer by your waist and you whimpered at the close contact. 

Kissing him did nothing but fuel the fire already brewing in your belly. You clung to him for dear life and hoped he wouldn’t let go anytime soon. You ignore the ache in your back as the kitchen counter dug into your spine. Roger’s hand caressed the swell of your ass and thighs while his knee had found its place between your legs.

You ground down on it without shame and let out a shaky breath. Roger stilled your hips and pulled away, trailing kisses down your neck, “Not yet.” He whispered in your ear before nipping at the skin.

And with that, he left you in the kitchen alone.

As the week wore on you could have screamed with how much sexual frustration you were feeling. Your sleep was lacking and your mind was constantly racing with thoughts of one man. In fact you almost did scream when you got a message from Roger asking for you to come over and watch a movie with him. It made your blood boil. A movie? A fucking movie? 

You could hardly believe it but still found yourself packing up some snacks and beers before heading over to his apartment. 

The two of you sat on the couch as a movie played in the background and sexual tension crackled and popped in the air. Roger draped his arm over the back of the couch and you tried to sit a healthy distance away from him.

You couldnt help but glance over at him every few minutes in hopes that he would make a move and then finally his hand came to rest on your thigh. You casually shifted and spread them a bit, hoping that he would get the hint. 

Roger’s hand caressed your inner thigh, rubbing and kneading the soft skin. Before things escalated any further Roger had managed to scoot you to the corner of the couch.

You turned and looked at him, suddenly feeling hot, “Hey,” You breathed out.

“Hey.” He answered back with the same stupid smug smirk he always wore before he pressed his lips against yours.

Gripping a fist full of his shirt you pulled him closer to you before wrapping an arm around him and tangling one in his hair. The kiss was hot, hotter than the one you shared before in the kitchen. You could feel your insides shaking with arousal and let out and eager whimper as Roger moved to take your bottoms off. He slowly slid them down and wasted no time pulling your panties aside and swiping his finger up your folds.

He smirked against your lips, “You’re soaked for me, love.” He murmured against your mouth.

“Touch me more.” You whimpered and almost lost all self control as roger inserted a finger into you. He slowly pumped it in and out, curling his fingers and rubbing them against your soft walls.

You hummed and you felt your body relax, being fingered had never felt this good before. Your mind was hazy and lewd moans spilled from your lips as you felt his thumb circle your clit as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you at a rapid pace.

“Fuck,” You gasped feeling an unfamiliar feeling knotting in your stomach and you begin to panic as the sensitivity between your legs skyrocketed. Your walls twitched and you sobbed as Roger pulled his fingers away.

He shushed you and slid off the couch, kneeling between your legs with your knees on either side of his head, “It’s fine.” He cooed sliding your panties off.

You couldnt help but squirm with impatience as he settled between your legs and put himself in a comfortable position. 

Roger’s fingers slipped back inside you with ease and your hips bucked as he licked your clit, “Oh roger,” You sighed letting your head fall against the back of the couch while your hand found itself tangled in his soft locks. 

His tongue alternated between swirling and flicking your clit; soon you found that your hips could not stay still and the knot in your belly returned. “R-roger,” You said planting both hands on the couch feeling his tongue flatly lapping against you, “Rog.” You gasped and felt around for something to anchor yourself onto. 

The sensitivity began to build and it felt like a rubberband was stretching to its limit before it finally snapped. You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you in a huge wave, “Oh fucking christ,” You gasped and grabbed a fist full of Roger’s hair and held him in place as you ground down on his face. You sobbed out as he helped you ride through your orgasm and felt your legs shake.

When he finished there was a moment of silence, “I think I came, holy shit.” You breathed out and saw him standing up. Roger grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. Your legs felt weak but you stood and looked at him with confusion.

“We arent finished.” He grinned and pulled you down the hall to his bedroom.

#ac asks #anon #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #smut

[dercolaris]

Hate

Another translation of a short story I wrote especially for @finzphoenix. Smut, light bondage, power sub Edward. Everything that make us Scriddler sinners happy, right? Thanks again @shin-arei for helping me with the translation. 

Hm. Maybe a song? Yes? Of course, here you go:

https://youtu.be/AcPmTOBtrtY

Enjoy :3

The Riddler licked his oil-soaked lips, feeling an almost insatiable desire rise in him. He could hardly get enough of this rare sight. Jonathan Crane sat in front of him - tied up and half-naked on a  wooden chair. His narrow chest was adorned with faded scars, the flat stomach rose and fell rhythmically. The zipper of the dark flannel trousers was already pulled dangerously far down, but it continued to successfully cover the older man's intimate area. The former psychiatrist blinked helplessly a few times and finally snorted disparagingly, turning his head a little haphazardly to one side, showing the impressive holes in the pale skin that give away a glimpse of his teeth. Edward couldn't suppress a small laugh. It was a well-kept secret of the Scarecrow that he had almost completely lost his sight in the unpleasant encounter with Killer Croc. How much the gaunt man actually saw could hardly be said without a more detailed examination by an ophthalmologist. Jonathan himself emphasized in many of their conversations that he could see and interpret outlines, but the images were so damn blurry that he was far from being able to cope with everyday life on his own. It was not for nothing that the otherwise extremely proud psychiatrist grudgingly agreed to stay with the Riddler. At least for the beginning. During those weeks there had been a lot of heated discussions between them. Not infrequently, in the middle of a violent argument, they had ended up in bed absolutely unplanned and had turned their profound frustration on the world into pure passion. But that Jonathan was in his hands that evening, of all people, hadn't seen Edward coming. A fact that the black-haired man would of course never admit. The tinkerer crossed his arms triumphantly over his chest and said with conviction: “Well, John. Of course, my plan worked out perfectly. That clearly shows that I'm the genius in this relationship. You didn't even saw it coming that I would take you by surprise and use my extensive knowledge of knots to hold you down. How does it feel to be inferior?“ The Master of Fear tilted his head slightly to the side, the gray dead eyes locked on his detested partner with an indefinable expression. The black-haired man felt goose bumps crawl down his back and a growing, queasy feeling when the stare did not leave him a millimeter. After a while the former psychiatrist replied inappropriately coolly: "Don't be ridiculous, Edward. You yourself are surprised at the outcome of the current situation and have no clue how things should go on now. So do us both a favor and let me free. Then I will consider whether I will forgive you for this misstep without major punishment."

The inventor was grateful that Jonathan couldn't see how he began to tremble at that moment. It wasn't fear that he felt. No, the tinkerer was incredibly aroused. The fact that the older one provoked him even further and tried to verbally humiliate him made it much more difficult to not tear off his clothes immediately and translate the hatred between them into physical love. Contrary to his request, Edward stepped up to the brown-haired man, reached roughly with one hand into the other's covered crotch and leaned against the torn lips of the former psychiatrist. His hot breath brushed the rough skin as he breathed softly: "The only one making a fool of himself is you, Crane. And now shut the fuck up and kiss me, you sick bastard.” The thin man growled muffled, but followed the request after a short moment of hesitation. Edward slowly closed his eyes and groaned barely audibly into the touch, finally opening his mouth to allow the rough tongue of the former psychiatrist to slip inside. As expected, the kiss was hard. It didn't take long before both sides included their teeth in the rough kiss and first drops of blood stained the saliva red. With a slight glee, the Riddler heard a traitorous rustle. Apparently Scarecrow was trying to free himself from the fixation and struggled with the knot that his hands were holding on the back of the chair. It was absolutely hopeless. The tinkerer had practiced long enough to tie up victims as efficiently as possible, and even a clever head like Jonathan would not be able to get out of this situation so easily. Still, his pathetic struggle for dominance was more than welcome. Edward ran his fingers a little more clearly over the now visible bulge in the brown-haired man's pants and deftly loosened the two buttons on the opening of his black boxer shorts. He broke the brutal kiss breathlessly, then mumbled wickedly: “At least Waylon spared your ears, huh? Although sometimes I seriously doubt, whether you can really hear me or if you are going deaf also.""That has nothing to do with my hearing, Edward," hissed the older man through clenched teeth, "I just ignore you in most cases. There is nothing meaningful coming out of your useless mouth anyway."

The inventor stared at the thin man with withering eyes. He could still taste the blood on his tongue and immediately wanted more. Against his will to hit the former psychiatrist straight in the badly damaged face, he freed the erect member of Scarecrow from the tightness and rubbed the hard shaft more vigorously than necessary. His counterpart groaned cautiously. The former psychiatrist continued to try to hide the budding lust and thus to demonstrate his superiority. After all, he was Doctor Jonathan Ichabod Crane, who would never succumb to earthly needs. The black-haired man raised an eyebrow teasingly and whispered lasciviously: “Oh, so useless you say? I'll show you right away what I can do with it besides talking, John.” The inventor dropped to his knees and licked the underside of the throbbing penis without a warning, putting his lips over the tip in a seamless transition. His tongue slowly caressed the sensitive glans. The older man gave a loud gasp, jerked a little in the chair. Edward felt an inner satisfaction at making the Master of Fear almost speechless and tickling out noises that probably only he would ever hear. One of his hands began to gently massage the testicles while his tongue moved in small circles around the shaft. When the Riddler created a stronger negative pressure with his mouth, the brown-haired man's restraint was over. His moan was like that of a wild, at the moment caged animal. The inventor clearly took his time with the oral stimulation and enjoyed the excessive reactions of Jonathan. It was priceless to have the Master of Fear in this humiliate position. The black-haired man took the dick a little further into his mouth, closed his eyes completely to concentrate on the pleasant background noise. He knew how much his partner loved it when he let him thrust down his throat. Edward tightened his grip on the sensitive testicles and tried to relax. In the next moment the shaft slid past his palate into the depths. He had to actively suppress the emerging gag reflex and tried not to gasp too loudly, after a short acclimatization he moved his head further in a rhythm that was comfortable for him. The former psychiatrist was barely able to formulate clear words anymore. Every effort ended with a half-finished or incomprehensible fragment of a sentence. Music to the Riddlers ears. He wandered with his free hand into his own pants and caressed the hardening penis with gentle touches. A strong tug in his abdomen also clearly indicated that he wasn't willing to wait any longer. Despite these clear impulses, the tinkerer continued undeterred. He worked on the older man's shaft for a few more seconds and then detached himself from it, pulled the foreskin back slightly with two fingers and kissed the pink flesh almost lovingly. The former psychiatrist panted heavily and grumbled angrily: "You dare to stop now, Edward?" The addressed man grinned wider, slowly rose again from the floor. He took off his brown pants and was briefly considering whether the shirt was also disturbing his lust at this moment. It didn't really matter.

Without further ado, the inventor sat down on Scarecrows lap and put his hands around the brown-haired man's narrow neck. His hips rubbed meaningfully against his partner's. When Jonathan suddenly indicated a push with his own, the Riddler had to laugh. He breathed obscenely: "Impatient, Crane?" His counterpart growled in a deep voice. So there it was again, the familiar frustration. An emerging hatred for human nature. The forbidden and reprehensible desire for sexual satisfaction. Edward gave a throaty groan as the former psychiatrist's shaft slid threateningly close to his anus. He added quietly to his previous words: "Today you are in my hand, John and I decide when you can ease yourself inside of me." The thin man struggled again against the bondage and moved forward to catch the other's lips. This kiss, too, was a discharge of pent-up anger. As the older man's teeth dug into his tongue, Edward groaned indignantly, fingernails digging into the pale flesh. He tore small wounds in the thin skin and drew his partner with idiosyncratic love feasts. The blood ran leisurely down Scarecrows long neck. The tinkerer released one hand from the Master of Fear and grasped his cock again, slowly directing it into the correct position. He didn't even think to end the intense kiss, just sat down carefully on the tip in the intimate touch. The hard shaft found its way into him and sank deeper into the hot tightness with every inch. The black-haired man squeezed his eyes slightly together. Even if they had sexual intercourse more often, it still hurt as hell at the beginning of the penetration. The former psychiatrist wasn't small either. He lingered on the older man's lap, almost impatiently waiting for the pain to subside. Contrary to his plan to keep the upper hand, Jonathan suddenly began to buckle his hips and thus create a surprisingly violent movement. Edward would have screamed if the brown haired man's lips hadn't been snug firmly on his. The brown-haired man now seemed unstoppable and thrust hard, the lifting of his hips accelerating again and again in his animal like desire. The inventor buried his fingernails helplessly in the pulsing flesh, slowly widening the scratch marks. He quickly released the kiss to finally make room for his lust. His hoarse groan mingled with the older man's growling. Hot sweat ran from their bodies. In order to feel more of his partner, the Riddler rolled the hips himself on Scarecrows lap, and immediately felt how the penis penetrated him a little deeper. Suddenly the stiff shaft hit the right spot.

The black-haired man tipped his head back and groaned in the heavy air, shuddering from all the extreme sensations. When Jonathan put his torn lips to his neck, the meager remnants of his self-control were over. The partially broken teeth of the former psychiatrist punched the skin and didn't seem to want to give up until they finally found blood. Edward ran his fingers into the older man's short, indomitable hair, clutching the back of his head convulsively. He shivered harder and whimpered in a fading voice: “I'm in control. I am more than superior to you. I'm ...” A sudden, stronger push from the Master of Fear cut him off from any response. The word literally got stuck in his throat. Jonathan gasped heavily from the exertion, then replied, almost brutally: "You can tell yourself that, Edward. Tell yourself you still have the upper hand. We both know it's not true.” With this simple statement, the brown-haired man bit down again, sucking on the wound to the rhythm of the thrusts. The inventor lost track of time and only realize marginally what was actually happening. He focused all his attention on the increasing lust. He was literally on fire. The pressure increased inevitably, and another very violent thrust finally brought him to an overwhelming climax. He tightened his grip on the older man's tousled hair, shouted the name of his lover loudly into the room. A gush of semen spread over the former psychiatrist's flat stomach, running leisurely over the navel. The sudden contraction of the tinkerer also pushed the gaunt man over the edge. Jonathan's movements became more irregular and a muffled rumble signaled that he too was on the verge of madness. The brown-haired man finally came in his partner, squeezed his hips up as hard as he could to fully savor the moment. Edward snorted breathlessly as the waves of pleasure ebbed. His fingers broke away from the convulsive position, fell weakly to the sides of his lover's torso. He sagged a little and mumbled in a whisper: "I fucking hate you, John."

#DC #Batman #Riddler #edward nygma #Scarecrow #jonathan crane #scriddler #riddlecrow #arkhamverse #smut #story for finz^^ #translation

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 6//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red)

“Are you absolutely sure it's a boy?” Rhys asked me as we lay entangled in bed, his ear pressed against my bare stomach and his hand splayed just below my navel.

I giggled as I ran my fingers through his raven locks. In the week since I announced my pregnancy, he asked me different versions of the same question. His hands also seemed to have become permanently glued to my stomach; along with his ears and lips. Every chance he had, Rhys would try and get as close to the baby as possible—which I welcomed, absolutely content with how devoted he was. The morning after Starfall, Rhys insisted we visit Madja’s clinic in Velaris—determined to learn anything and everything there was to know about pregnancy and what it would entail for me. The healer happily obliged, and informed us both of what the next eight and a half months would look like. Not only was a high fae pregnancy longer than a human’s, but as with other fae ailments, any symptoms and risks I faced might be amplified.

There were the normal symptoms I was already accustomed to: nausea, vomiting, fatigue, and others I would soon face: backaches, swelling in my hands, face, and feet, and occasional headaches. Hearing about those symptoms didn’t cause any alarm, they were common and unfortunately came hand-in-hand with creating a new life. Madja also said that every female experienced her pregnancy differently; some had severe complications and had to be on strict bed rest, while others hardly experienced anything other than a few minor discomforts. I hoped for the latter of the two.

It was hearing about the risks, which included a small chance of bleeding that could lead to a miscarriage while we were still in an early phase, that made me nervous and caused Rhys to enter in a full-blown defensive mode. Any prior protective behavior he was experiencing before now intensified with his innate need to safeguard me and the baby. Madja assured us that this behavior was expected and normal between mates; with females in such a vulnerable condition, a male’s instinct was always to protect his mate and their offspring. To his credit, Rhys offered a sheepish grin along with an apology in advance. Having already witnessed what he was like after we were freshly mated, and how he managed to reign himself in, I knew most of it was beyond his control.

However, I welcomed some of his coddling after my unpleasant symptoms returned a day after our visit with Madja, and fluctuated throughout the week. The extreme fatigue seemed to be a permanent state I would stay in for the duration of my pregnancy, but I pleaded to the Mother that my nausea spells would soon cease. It was torture being unable to leave my room for periods of time throughout the day. Unfortunately, there was no predicting when the queasiness would hit, so for the time being I would have to bear with it and hope none of the others would notice and wonder why my seemingly mysterious illness still remained.

Rhys and I decided to hold off on revealing the news to our friends and my sisters until we were out of the realm of possibility for a miscarriage. Madja reassured me that the chances were slim and divulged that although it was difficult for high fae to conceive, it was also difficult to lose a pregnancy. In spite of my relief, I didn’t want to take any chances and asked the healer for all recommendations on how to stay as healthy as possible.

So, along with the prenatal herbal teas she initially prescribed, she also ordered that I immediately put a halt to my morning training sessions with Cassian—which Rhys whole-heartedly agreed with, much to my chagrin. As much as I enjoyed being active, however, I knew fainting after only a couple of minutes of basic punching forms was a sign that I should be taking it easier. My body was now working overtime to provide not only for myself, but for a baby that was growing more and more by the day. Instead, Madja suggested I take more time to rest and relax, to allow myself more free time for leisure activities like my painting. Knowing my concerns, and guilt, over becoming stagnant, Rhys promised my duties as High Lady wouldn’t be affected—which left me relieved.

However, as much as my mate knew how capable I was of tending to my regular duties as High Lady, I couldn’t help but be amused at how much he insisted on spoiling me. He now reserved the right to tend to my every want and need; whether I was weary or not, Rhys began to wait on my hand and foot under the guise that since I was carrying his child, he would carry everything else. I appreciated it most whenever I was feeling particularly nauseated or drained, but I drew the line whenever he tried to spoon feed me my meals—I still maintained my irritation for it, no matter how much of a mother hen he was going to be for the duration of my pregnancy. I also valued it on morning’s like today when I had awoken with little to no desire to leave the comforts of our bed—whether it was from my overwhelming fatigue or not.

“Yes, the Bone Carver appeared to me as our firstborn. A miniature version of you,” I answered with a sigh of mock exasperation.

“And you’re sure this mini-me didn’t happen to actually have long hair or maybe more feminine features? It is dark in the prison, afterall, maybe you missed a couple of details,” he tried to reason, raising his head to look at me.

“I showed you what he looked like,” I laughed.

“Ah yes, but I saw through your eyes Feyre darling. So to clarify the vision, I have to rely on the original source. In this case, that’s you,” he said, his grin positively feline.

I grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it as I laughed, “Smartass.”

His grin remained as he braced himself against my stomach playfully, “Careful darling, you’ll hurt the baby,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes and hit him again as he laughed, “It’s a boy. Maybe the next one will be a girl.”

“Next one?” He asked, his violet eyes lit up as they met mine with raised and amused brows.

“We’ll see. Let’s focus on our son first,” I said.

His chuckle reverberated through me as he pressed his ear to my still-flat stomach. Despite no growth progress being made on my pregnant belly, he was obsessed.

“I want him to know I’m here,” Rhys answered before I could ask; double checking to make sure that my mental shields were intact.

“He knows,” I said as I continued to brush my fingers through his hair. “He was calling out to you for weeks before either of us realized he was there.”

During our visit, I had Madja explain the mystery behind the faint glimmer that fluttered between us. The ancient inkling that existed between mates as a confirmation that they had successfully procreated. Rhys was in awe of the information, and hoped the glimmer would remain throughout the months. So far, my little glimmering baby was silent—perhaps reveling in finally being noticed.

“Still, it’s never too early to bond with my son,” he said with a grin as he pressed a chaste kiss to my stomach before subsequently moving from his spot and hovering above me. “Are you feeling well enough to have breakfast with everyone, or shall I bring you breakfast in bed?”

I sighed as I held his arms, lightly tracing the pattern of his tattoos as I debated, “I could honestly sleep for another couple of hours. You should go, let everyone know I’m okay,” I answered.

“I’m beginning to run out of excuses to explain why their High Lady has been so inclined to not leave her room.”

I hesitated, realizing how hard it actually was to keep up the deceit. A part of me knew Mor was suspicious of something already, having guessed Cauldron-knew-what on Starfall. The others I couldn’t even begin to guess what assumptions they made.

“Should we just tell them?” I asked. “I know we wanted to wait a little while longer, but it just doesn’t feel right to keep giving excuse after excuse.”

Rhys nodded in agreement, “I’m pretty sure Cassian and Azriel know something, but they have too much respect for your privacy to pry it out of me.”

I laughed and sighed tiredly, “Do you think they’ll be excited?” I asked.

He smirked, “Well I don’t think they’ll be disappointed.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away before sitting up as he chuckled. He caught my wrist carefully before I could get up from the bed, “I think they’ll be more than happy to hear there will soon be a new member of our Inner Circle,” he said.

I smiled, “He’s going to be spoiled, isn’t he?”

“Rotten, my love.” He replied as I laughed.

X

I didn’t realize how nervous I would actually be until we sat down for breakfast. Our morning routine was proceeding as normal—everyone gathering in our grand dining hall, another room I was particularly proud of in the estate. I planned for it to be large enough to fit all of us comfortably, and took extra consideration for the Illyrian brothers and their mighty wings.

I took comfort in seeing everyone in their customary morning moods; Amren and Mor chattering over a new line of jewelry on display at their favorite shop at the Palace of Thread and Jewels, Elain displaying a book of pressed flowers she had been collecting to Azriel—who actually requested to see it the night before, and Nesta keeping a watchful eye on the pair while Cassian engaged her in some kind of boastful conversation. I was actually surprised to see how close they were sitting together without Nesta having a sneer on her face. I tried to remember the last time it was she even looked at him with a sneer at all.

Getting distracted, my love? Rhys asked down the bond.

I glanced at him and took a sip from my glass of orange juice. What, should I just blurt it out while they aren’t paying attention?

Why not?

I paused. Really?

If you don’t, then perhaps I will.

I blinked and opened my mouth to say it, but when the words refused to come out, Rhys grinned mischievously before simply turning in his seat and said, “Feyre darling is pregnant.”

Everyone’s eyes instantly turned to me and I blushed under their collective gaze. There was quiet for little more than two heartbeats before Mor and Elain’s high-pitched squeals met the air and the sounds of chairs scraping the floor filled the room as everyone moved. Mor was the first to reach me as she threw her arms around me in a warm embrace.

“Oh, I knew it, I knew it!” She cheered as she hugged me and my eyes burned as she pulled away, Elain wrapping me in her arms next.

“I can’t believe it, Feyre, you’re going to have a baby!” she exclaimed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel and Cassian congratulating Rhys with clasps on the shoulder.

I laughed aloud when Cassian wrapped an arm around his shoulder and wrestled him around, “I knew you had it in you Rhysie!” he exclaimed as Azriel nodded his approval.

Just as the shadowsinger turned his attention to me and took a step in my direction to congratulate me, Rhys was out of Cassian’s hold and in his path—blocking him from getting to me with a deadly snarl on his lips.

Cassian barked a laugh and slapped a hand on Rhys’s tense shoulder, “Is this a second version of that mating bond rearing its ugly head?” he taunted.

Before Rhys could turn that snarl towards Cassian, I touched his other shoulder gently in an attempt to calm his feral temper. Almost instantly, he relaxed as his gaze drifted to my stomach and shrugged Cassian’s hand away.

“Madja warned us that this might happen,” I said, “But I’d prefer you two not destroy this room.”

“We can always have it out in the training pit later, Rhysie.” Cassian goaded, cracking his knuckles with a wicked grin.

Rhys squared his shoulders as his hand came to rest on the small of my back, “I’m fine here.”

“A typical male guarding his offspring,” Amren said coolly, and I was grateful for the attempt to lighten the animosity that briefly began to brew. “Congratulations girl. It’s about time our group is graced by a youngling’s presence, it’ll be a welcome change around here.”

“How far along are you?” Nesta asked, and I was surprised to see her standing beside Cassian, not realizing she had made her way over during the hostile interaction with Rhys, instead of attempting to shield Elain.

“Almost three months now,” I answered, my hand coming to rest on my flat stomach. “I found out the day before Starfall.”

“Aha! I told you!” Mor cheered as she turned to Cassian and Azriel.

Cassian swore under his breath and Az dipped his head in acknowledgement, and I balked. “What’re you talking about?”

“We all made a bet on how long it would take for you guys to announce it. I gave it a week, Cass bet two, and Az bet you would be half-way along before you told us. Which means I won!” Mor sang excitedly.

“I lost the minute his darkness over here didn’t shout it from the rooftop after you told him,” Amren revealed nonchalantly, motioning to Rhys.

“Wait, you all knew?” I asked, bewildered.

“Are you kidding? I smelled it on you the minute we came back from the mountains,” Cassian admitted, “I’m surprised Rhys didn’t, with him being your mate and all.”

“To be fair, a part of me did know, but until Feyre was fully aware herself, I wasn’t going to raise any suspicion,” Rhys said nonchalantly, and I could feel his attempt to tame his preternatural instincts in order to avoid giving into Cassian’s baiting.

“So, this wasn’t really news then?” I asked, unable to hide my disappointment.

“It was for me,” Elain interjected, grabbing my hands gently with a smile, “I had no idea, and I’m so happy Feyre.”

“I didn’t know either,” Nesta added, and I was astonished to see a formal look of support on her lovely face.

Elain embraced me again as my eyes burned. They were all happy for us, and as Amren mentioned earlier, a baby would soon be welcomed by everyone here. I tried not to let the tears fall as I imagined my son being held in each of their arms. I sniffed as I stepped back from Elain’s arms and blinked in surprise when I saw Amren, Mor, Azriel and Cassian standing together before me and bowed with their hands over their hearts—just as they had done years ago after Rhys and I were newly mated.

“Our vow of service and protection is extended to the child you carry; our future High Lord of the Night Court.” Mor explained before I could question them.

“Or the future High Lady,” Cassian said with a wink.

I glanced at Rhys as he slid his hand back onto the small of my back, and without the need to communicate through the bond we knew we would keep that revelation a secret.

“This is normally a tradition sworn to the High Lord, but seeing as you are our High Lady, and the one who is actually doing all the work, we pledge our vow to you and your child.” Amren continued.

My heart tightened and my face flushed as they all stood as one, their hands still on their hearts. I captured the image in my mind, imagining what colors of paint I would need later and the exact canvas I would use to commemorate this moment forever. Sworn protectors of the Night.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice still thick with the unshed tears.

Mor grinned and came up to envelop me in another hug, “Your emotions are going to be all over the place now! You don’t have to worry about holding back, we all understand,” she crooned and I laughed with a sob.

“I’ll admit, I’ve never really been around pregnant females outside of the ones in the Illyrian camps, but I’m willing to learn,” Cassian reassured.

“We all are,” Azriel added.

I sniffed and wiped at the few tears that escaped, “I guess we’re all experiencing this for the first time,” I said.

“I’ve at least held a baby before,” Mor said proudly.

“Before it burst into tears and reached back for its mother,” Rhys remarked with a smirk, earning a glare from the golden-haired beauty.

“Hey, I’ve held a baby before,” Cassian defended. “You forget, I’ve taught younglings how to fly. Sometimes that required holding them when they cried.”

“Your idea of holding a youngling included patting them on the back until they calmed and tossing them, sometimes in mid-air,” Azriel smoothly cut in.

“That happened once, and it was an accident!” Cassian barked.

“So, you dropped a baby in mid-air?” Mor asked.

Elain gasped in horror at the thought, causing Amren to burst out laughing and Nesta rolled her eyes as Cassian fumbled over his words to try and defend his actions. I squeezed Rhys’s hand as my heart swelled and his eyes met mine with an easy grin, his free hand coming to rest on my stomach—happy to finally be able to do so in front of everyone. I returned his grin when that familiar glimmer fluttered excitedly beneath his touch, our son happy and no doubt feeling right at home with his family.

#feysand #feysand babies #rhys x feyre #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #feyre darling #feyre x rhysand #nessian #nesta archeron #elain archeron #high lady feyre #high lady of the night court #high lord of the night court #high lord rhysand #illyrian #illyrians #illyrian babies #azriel #mor #amren acotar #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acofs #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of nightmares and starlight

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 20

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-consensual&dark sexual situations, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat more warnings: i’m going to start including detailed warnings to the very ends of chapters in order to avoid ruining the shock factor in chapters while still being mindful of potential individual triggers. open the read more, CTRL + F and search “content warnings” to skip to the extra tags if you so choose.

There was a difference in the air when people like Steve and Bucky were around. Penny had never really noticed it on the soldiers, she’d been too preoccupied at first. The way the air settled around them was just different and it took being in a room with them with normal people for more than thirty minutes for her to notice (Tony didn’t count. Penny could barely breathe when Tony was in the room, not while she actively panicked over the wellbeing of the Most Important Person in Her Entire Life, let alone notice anything so subtle.) Sam and Clint were regular dudes, there was nothing in their aura that made her lizard brain stand at attention. But Thor? He had the same offsetting crackle that almost seemed to jump off his skin. She might not have even noticed it on the soldiers if it weren’t for the juxtaposition between them and the regular humans, the similarities seen in Thor.

It was uncomfortable. The men refused to acknowledge it, but discomfort choked up Penny’s spine as they all milled around the living room. They were supposedly there to help the soldiers pack up the apartment, to get them ready to leave. Leave. Leave the tower, leave New York, leave Peter. She was barely moving, even as they brushed past her carrying boxes.

“I’m just about to order dinner, is there anything you want doll?” Steve came up behind her and gently slipped his arm around her waist, tugging her back into his chest, “it’ll be pizza for the rest of us.”

A small shiver ran over her when his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing the skin of her stomach, “kosher?”

“We can hunt down a kosher joint,” the blond’s Brooklyn accent was strong, lips brushing the top of her ear, “how d’you like it?”

The mundane conversations still turned her stomach most of the time and she swallowed heavily before listing several options she’d be happy with, listening to him hum against her ear. Every one of the guys shouted out their preferences as well, as if they’d been waiting for the exact second Penny had finished with her request. Watching Sam half tackle Clint into the couch while arguing Hawaiian pizza was triggering something in the back of her mind, Peter and Ned roughhousing in the apartment while she cooked dinner. She could practically hear MJ’s scoff.

“Can I have a pack of cigarettes?” She asked quietly enough that the soldier could’ve pretended not to hear, but somehow Thor had picked up on it.

“Cigarettes?” She wasn’t sure if the giant of a man realized how patronizing his tone was but she immediately bristled.

“Baby doll, we’ve talked about this,” Steve sighed, turning her in his arms to face him, “cigarettes are a dirty habit, not something a sweet girl should be indulging in.”

It was one of the few things they’d denied her in the early weeks that she continued to ask for. She wasn’t sure why it was so important, she didn’t generally even crave cigarettes, but it mattered. It mattered that they refused her one of the only coping mechanisms she could think of. And honestly it pissed her the fuck off.

Clint snorted from his position next to the yarn shelf, “so you cut her off cold turkey and now you’re wondering why she’s a nightmare?”

Sam barked a laugh, looking less than apologetic even when Bucky and Steve turned their glares on him. The two humans, Penny knew they were humans and the others were something else, exchanged eye rolls while Steve carefully grasped her chin and tilted her head back. Penny’s lungs seized momentarily—it was unsettling, for multiple reasons, to have the entirety of his attention focused on her. In part it was because, honestly, he was so breath takingly pretty and it was a shock every time. There was also an uncanny light in his eyes though, something knowledgeable. It was like staring into the sun and her anger was swept away by a surging nervousness.

“I don’t wanna hear any more about cigarettes, okay?” His thumb gently brushed over her jaw, “it’ll only be hard for a little while longer and then you won’t even want them anymore.”

Somewhere behind her ribs, her heart pounded in irritation but it was masked by the pressure in her lungs. She wanted to be angry, it would’ve been easier to be angry. Instead she dropped her eyes and nodded, trying to tug her chin from his grasp.

“Awh baby, don’t pout. You know we just want what’s best for you,” the hand not on her face trailed down her back, coming to rest on the lower curve of her ass with a careful and deliberate squeeze, “go with Bucky and pack any of the clothes you want to bring with us. Not too many, okay? Just your favorites.”

Penny immediately turned in an attempt to get out of his arms, the opportunity to escape his grasp too good to pass up. Her eyes landed on Bucky, who was murmuring something to Sam. Both had their heads ducked together, speaking in hushed tones. When they clasped hands, Penny could’ve sworn she saw something exchanged between the pair that Sam immediately tucked into his pocket. Sneaky bastards.

Bucky didn’t give her half a second to consider it before he swept her down the hall and into the bedroom, closing the door behind them. Her entire body froze up at the sound of the lock, knowing that it was more to keep her from getting out than prevent someone from getting in. Penny’s arms crossed, fingers digging into her own skin roughly as a tremble tried to race through her stomach. It was a curious sensation, an icy nervousness down her spine fighting a hot lick of arousal from between her legs. She’d argue it was a Pavlovian response, the soldiers had been eating her out on the daily since Steve had done it the first time, but Penny had also been horny as fuck for days and they’d noticed. If they even looked at her too hard she had to rub her legs together.

“Penny doll, you’re so uncomfortable,” Bucky wrapped tightly around her from behind, one hand slipping under her shirt to rest on her stomach while the other came up to run over her hair, “you don’t have to be nervous around our friends. Everything is okay, you’re okay, precious. Maybe you’re just antsy, huh baby? Come over by the bed and get on your knees.”

The cold anxiety almost won out as Bucky pulled her to the bedside, grabbing a pillow to drop on the ground in front of his feet, “on your knees, don’t make me ask again.”

She winced, both at the implication of a punishment if she didn’t do as asked and the memory of the last time Bucky wanted a blow job. Her throat had been sore for days and even as she did get down onto her knees, she wondered if having a sore ass might be preferable. It didn’t matter anyway, because Bucky had already shoved his jeans down to free himself.

“I don’t want to,” it came out whinier than she intended, potentially whinier than she’d ever sounded in her life and she almost slapped a hand over her mouth; Penny hadn’t been immature since she was 13 years old, but she sounded like a petulant child.

There was no way she could’ve noticed how Bucky almost got light headed from how hard his cock throbbed at her bratty little tone. He dropped a hand to the top of her head, digging his fingers into her curly hair and directing her neck to arch back so he could catch her eyes. A pouty baby, fidgeting on a pillow while his cock dangled not five inches in front of her face.

“Open your mouth, baby doll,” he ordered inching further, running his hand down the length of his cock, “maybe a snack before dinner will calm you down.”

The head pressed against her lips and she clenched her teeth for several seconds before forcing her jaw to drop. Bucky’s responding groan went straight to her cunt, thighs nearly trying to close in search of friction. She barely had time to consider the implications before he started moving, cupping her lower jaw in one hand while the other palmed the back of her head. He was being more gentle than the first time, still holding her head in place while thrusting into her mouth, but he wasn’t jamming it down her throat.

“You do so well, precious,” he murmured, sounding almost short of breath, “you take my cock so well.”

Penny should’ve knocked on wood, because the next thing she knew her nose was pressed to his pelvis and his dick was visible in her throat. The hand on the back of her head easily held her in place when she tried to jerk back, fingers rubbing gently against her skull. She might’ve puked when he pulled back if he hadn’t have driven his whole cock back in her mouth so fast she didn’t have a chance. Bucky nearly blew his whole load at the desperate little noises she made, her eyes meeting his while tears streamed down her cheeks, but he wanted to make it last.

He pulled back, the tip of his cock sitting on her lower lip, “you wanna be in control baby? I’ll let you, but you need to do a good job or I’m gonna wreck your pretty throat, understand?”

It had been a long time since Penny had given a blowjob (of her own volition, of course, a horrible thing to think) and it took her a long second before she brought a trembling hand up to grasp his cock. Her fingers just barely couldn’t meet around the girth and she realized there was a good reason her lips felt so sore. His hands rested on the back of her head, it wasn’t intentionally threatening but all she could think of was him deciding she wasn’t doing well and shoving it back down her throat. Bucky moaned as she took the head into her mouth, tongue laving over his skin. She wasn’t sure she’d ever really learned to give a good blow job, but fuck if she wasn’t gonna do her best.

“That’s a good girl, I want you to take it in your throat and swallow around it,” Bucky shuffled forward again, capturing all of her hair into a ponytail, “you take as much as you can, you understand?”

Penny nodded as much as possible, anxiety tightening her chest as she inhaled deeply through her nose before attempting to take as much of his cock into her mouth as she could manage. A firm hand continued to press her down when she hesitated and gagged, Bucky cooing above her—a little more baby, take a little more, a little more, keep going.

“Don’t gag baby, swallow,” a choked sound escaped his chest when she did as ordered, desperately swallowing around his cock while he held her in place, “as long as you can, hold it. You be good and I’ll cum in your mouth instead of down your throat.”

Was that any better? She wasn’t sure, could barely think as her vision started to blur. It would mean less time with that massive cock blocking her airway. She knew her thighs were trembling though, knew her pussy was dripping. Her body was betraying her the same way it had been all week and he’d know, as soon as he finished in her mouth she knew he’d check her panties. It was never taunting, the way they crooned at her when they saw how wet she was, but it was humiliating regardless.

He pulled her back just before she realized she was about to pass out, pressing her cheek against his hip bone while she gasped for breath and he wrapped his metal hand about his cock, jerking it quickly, “that’s a good girl, deep breaths. I’m gonna cum in your pretty mouth and I want you to hold it there, understand? You don’t swallow until I tell you.”

Bucky was loud. He moaned and gasped and grunted, pulling her hair and squeezing her skin tight enough to leave bruises whenever he came. This time was no different, his chest heaving as he groaned, his flesh hand squeezing her jaw hard enough to force her mouth to stay open. There was no warning before the first spurt of cum shot towards the back of her throat and she almost gagged, forcing it to pool in her mouth instead of swallowing.

Neither of them noticed the sound of the lock breaking as Steve twisted the knob and slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He’d been listening from the living room, getting harder and harder as the desperate little noises came from Penny. Clint had excused himself at the first sound of Penny choking on Bucky’s cock, a grin on his face as he went. Sam and Thor hung around, the pair lounging around in the living room in quiet amusement while Steve dipped out.

“Give her a nice big mouthful Buck, it’s gonna be an hour before the pizza gets here,” the blond’s words finally caught Penny’s attention and her eyes rolled in his direction, tearful and wide, “keep her tummy full.”

Penny was trying to stay up right, holding tightly to Bucky’s jeans while breathing heavily through her nose. She could’ve sworn it had been an hour, her mouth was pooling with cum and when he slipped his thumb between her lips and stroked her tongue, she realized he’d finally finished.

“Oh baby doll, you look so pretty with your mouth full. Stevie, come here, look,” Bucky was still holding her jaw and Penny forced herself not to heave, the breaths she took through her nose not nearly enough as her body continued to pump adrenaline through her system.

“Precious,” Steve cooed, dropping onto his knees next to her, one hand going to the back of her neck while the other sunk into the front of her shorts, “are you wet for us? Awh, you are. That little pussy is gushing for us, Buck.”

“Swallow my cum and we’ll eat your pussy,” Bucky stroked his hand down her hair, eyes locking onto hers as she looked up at him desperately, “quick now baby, we’ve got guests remember?”

The tears that had been gathering in her eyes fell at that, the reminder that there was a very good chance the guys in the living room had just heard her choking and gagging on their friend’s dick. His hand guided her mouth shut and she whimpered for several long seconds before finally managing to swallow. Steve pressed his lips to hers when she squeezed her eyes shut, half a sob getting trapped in her chest.

“You’ve been so good, baby doll,” the blond pressed to his feet with her still in his arms, forcing her to stand on unsteady legs while he slipped her shorts and panties down her legs, “stand here precious, just like this. It’s time for your reward.” 

“One leg up,” Bucky murmured from behind her, his lips brushing against her shoulder while lifting her left leg all the way up onto the bed, “nice and wide for us.” 

Steve went back to his knees, groaning at how slick her cunt was, the moisture coating her pussy and her pretty thighs. He’d never get tired of eating her out, not while he still breathed. His mouth latched onto her clit immediately and she whined, slapping a hand over her mouth instinctively. 

“No way baby doll,” Bucky grabbed her wrist and dragged her hand down, “I want our friends to hear how well Stevie eats your pussy. I bet we can make you squeal, huh baby? I bet I know something that’ll make you get nice and loud.” 

He held fast at her waist even as he dropped to his knees behind her, a tight grasp that would leave bruises. She couldn’t even think to move away, even as Steve’s shoulders wedged between her thighs and precariously trapped her by throwing off her balance without leaning into him. The blond’s arms wrapped around her thighs, hands landing sharply on her ass cheeks. It drew a squeak from her, followed by a cry when he pulled her cheeks apart and something very wet probed at her asshole. She would’ve gone up onto her tiptoes if she could, anything to escape Bucky’s slick mouth. 

“Oh G-God, no! Don’t!” The brunet’s hands tightened further on her hips, Steve’s doing the same on her still slightly bruised ass to keep her in place when she started to squirm. 

“You’re so cute precious,” Steve crooned from between her legs, “nobody’s ever touched your asshole before have they? We’ll get you nice and broke in before you take a cock back there. Buck’s real good at eating ass, huh? The way your pussy is gushing tells me you like it.” 

It wasn’t Penny’s fault, she couldn’t help how her body responded, but she was gonna cum. Especially when Steve pressed two fingers up into her cunt and started furiously rubbing away at her g-spot. A screech escaped her at the sensation, especially when it was followed directly by two metal fingers forcing their way into her asshole. The stretch was a painful burn but her toes curled, Steve’s tongue lapping at her clit and she wailed at the combination of sensations. 

“There you go baby doll, that’s it, cum with my fingers up your ass,” Bucky growled, “we’ll get you to a point you can’t cum unless you have something in your little asshole.” 

“N-No!” Penny hiccuped, unsure if she was crying in humiliation or pain or because her need to cum was unbearable. 

“Yeah precious,” Steve scissored his fingers while Bucky’s mouth descended once again, drawing a cry from their doll at the sensation, “we’ll train you up so good, Penny doll.” 

The orgasm took her out at the knees, literally, when Steve’s lips returned to her clit. She would’ve collapsed, screaming, had Bucky not shot to his feet to stabilize her. He held her in place while Steve continued to draw out her orgasm, until the hypersensitivity set in. Her entire body trembled, jerking away from the blond’s persistent mouth as he continued to work her over. It wasn’t until she was a babbling mess that he finally pulled away and stood back up, pressing the fingers that had been in her pussy into her mouth. 

“I don’t know why we bother with clothes,” Bucky sighed from behind her, shifting her weight to lay her up against Steve’s chest while he went to work readjusting his pants, “tedious. Here’s your shorts back precious.” 

Penny shivered slightly, quickly noticing that her underwear weren’t being replaced and that there had been no mention of her cleaning up before redressing. They were going to make her go back out there with her own arousal coating her thighs and cum dampening the crotch of her shorts. She obediently lifted her feet when instructed, feeling the silky material drag up her legs and whining when Bucky pulled them too high on her waist, pulling the gullet through the mess between her thighs. 

“Now, let’s get back to the guys,” Steve patted her pussy through her shorts before nodding to Bucky, “Clint’s probably back by now. Pizza should be here in another half hour or so.” 

It was more than a walk of shame going into the living room. Her hair felt frizzy, her skin was overheated and sticky and she smelled like cum. She could still taste Bucky’s in her mouth, stuck to her teeth. 

Thor, Clint, and Sam were splayed out over the couches when they returned, chatting about football while ESPN played on the TV. It was a shoddy ruse that Penny could see through immediately; they were pretending to act casual, but the smirks on their faces betrayed their amusement. They’d absolutely heard everything and Penny felt her cheeks darken in humiliation. 

Knowing her thighs were visibly sticky hurt in a special way. It meant they could tell she’d come, if her screaming hadn’t been a dead giveaway. The way her shorts stuck to her crotch showed she’d liked it. She had to actively try not to cry as Steve pulled her down into his lap on the couch, tucking her into his chest. None of them were looking at her but it felt like they were and she wanted to curl into a ball and hide. 

She just barely noticed the way Bucky had canted his head towards Clint, how the blond had reciprocated the motion and was listening intently to whatever the soldier was saying. It raised the hairs on the back of her neck slightly, suspicion racing through her. There was no telling what was going on but she could only assume it wasn’t going to be great for her. 

“Can I go to the kitchen?” Penny only raised her voice enough that Steve could hear her, maybe Bucky. 

“Why baby, you hungry?” The implication lit her cheeks and she shook her head immediately, scowling in frustration while the blond chuckled and pet her hair. 

“Tea,” the word was ground through her teeth and Steve hummed. 

“Gimme a kiss first baby doll.” 

She wanted to scream in his face, or curse or something. Every inch of her was barely restrained chaos and in that moment she felt every molecule of her body vibrate with the impulsive desire to smash her forehead into his nose. She wondered how effective it would be. Instead Penny sat upright and pressed her lips to his carefully, giving him the bare minimum of cooperation to be released. Steve’s tongue swept into her mouth, despite her attempts to keep it chaste. When he finally let up she was quick to slip out of his lap, skirting carefully around the couch before she could be reeled back in. 

You hungry? Her clit had throbbed immediately at the jab and she ogled at the fact she could possibly be horny in such a desolate situation. What kind of freak was she? Penny had to brace her weight against the counter, inhaling shakily. She must’ve been about to start her period, one of the few she got per year due to the implant. She always got super horny right before she had a period. There was no other explanation. Instinctively she reached around to run her thumb over the device, freezing in place when she couldn’t find the raised skin. 

Immediately she panicked that the implant had migrated; it was something they warned about, the possibility, but it was supposed to be such a small chance. She was going to need an x-ray, they might have to do surgery. Her panic was disrupted by pain, a hiss slipping from between her teeth when her thumb pressed into a tender spot. There had been painful spots on her arms for the last week, since they’d put her under anesthesia and given her a whole array of shots while also taking blood. She’d freaked out over the needle marks days ago but had mostly moved past it, not thinking any more of the pains. 

Evidently that was a mistake. She skirted over to where the toaster sat, the most reflective surface in the kitchen. It took a good bit of maneuvering before she managed to get the angle right, dark eyes going wide at the sight of a thin, short red incision. Not a needle mark, an incision. 

“What the fuck?” She gasped, dropping the toaster back onto the counter and grasping desperately at the marble behind her to keep herself up right, “fuck!” 

“Penny doll, what’s the matter?” Steve materialized in the kitchen like a fucking wraith and Penny found herself with a split-second decision— rage out or conceal don’t feel.

His eyes were dead set on her face, the same hair raising level of attention he’d laid her out with earlier. Her implant was gone. They’d taken it out of her arm without her consent, without her knowledge. It was like waking up the morning after they drugged her all over again, the sudden overwhelming flood of helplessness. Nothing was hers. Nothing was beyond their reach, their control. Penny’s chest heaved in shock and disbelief. How could it just continue to get worse? How could there possibly be something horrible around every corner, a worse obstacle, a more painful fall.

“Come on precious, talk to me,” Steve bracketed her with his arms, hands coming to rest on the counter next to hers, “what’s going on in your head?”

Her eyelashes fluttered, teeth grinding as she carefully considered her response, “my birth control. It’s gone.”

Blue eyes bounced between hers with caution, one hand coming up to cup the side of her face, “you don’t need that anymore, baby doll. You’re in a committed relationship, Bucky and I are ready to start a family whenever it happens.”

A slow tremble of sheer rage slipped its way down her spine, dripping over every vertebra and flowing along her nerves like fire. Whenever it happened. When. They were making fucking plans, the rat bastards.

“Penny, I want you to listen to me for the next minute,” his hand tightened on the side of her face with careful, deliberate pressure, “We’re leaving in the morning. Tonight, you’re getting to say goodbye to Peter. If you decide to have a fit right now and earn yourself a punishment, when do you think you’ll be able to say goodbye?”

His words did nothing but stoke the fire, “you’d take that away from me? After you’ve taken everything else? Every fucking thing I had, you’ve destroyed it. F-From my independence to my fucking dignity. Why are you doing this?”

The look on his face was some cross between stern and mean but Penny refused to back down, even when he seemed to grow more intimidating in the momentary silence, “weren’t you tired, baby? The way you lived, do you really miss that? You worked every day of your life, you barely saw Peter. You could never have friends, the one time you put yourself out there and tried to date you were hurt. Do you understand, Penny doll? We are saving you. Everything we take, its for your own good. I know it’s so hard for you, to give up your control, but you don’t need it anymore. You have self-destructive tendencies, you’re codependent on your brother, your life was spiraling. You can’t be trusted with your own health and safety. That’s what we’re here for now.”

“You had no right—!”

“I don’t need an invitation to save a life, Penny,” he bent over slightly, pressing a hard kiss to her forehead, “now, you need to make a decision. Are you going to be a good girl and calm down for me so you can see Peter this evening or are you going to go to bed with a spanked ass and not see him until we get back?”

Penny shook with restrained fury, fists closing tightly but she only brought them tighter into her chest instead of lashing out. Her lips trembled and without warning she screamed, loud and long and full of anger. Steve didn’t look bothered, his fingers gently stroked her face even when she shook her head, almost violently. He just steadied her, barely glancing towards the entry way to the kitchen in time to see Sam step in. Penny quieted just in time for a massive crash to come from the living, Steve sighing heavily under his breath.

“Sam, can you please stay with Penny for a minute?” The blond didn’t wait for an answer before stalking out of the kitchen, “what did you do Thor?”

“It was Barton!”

Penny was left shaking, leaning against the counter for support. Sam gave her a long glance before sighing, his eyes darting quickly to the doorway to the kitchen before he stepped forward.

“Look, I know this is a rough time for you,” he could see she wanted to spit in his face, the desire almost radiating from her pores, “hey, just listen okay. I heard earlier, Cap’s givin’ you trouble about cigarettes, right? Look, I’ve got a half-smoked pack you’re welcome to, if you think it’s gonna help.”

He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a half-crushed pack of camels, lifting the top to show it was still mostly full with a plain red lighter tucked inside. Instead of getting any closer to her, he tossed the pack onto the counter next to her before taking a step back. Her eyes trailed his face for several seconds, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some sort of condition or trade. Sam looked sincere though, his face kind and sympathetic. He and Thor were more guys she was saddened by; they could’ve been friends probably, in another life.

“…Thanks,” she murmured, grabbing the package carefully and tucking it into the waistband of her shorts, “a lot.”

“You’re welcome sweet thing,” a crooked grin came over his lips and his head tilted slightly, “you don’t tell the soldiers where you got those, you understand?”

“Secret’s safe with me, Sam,” Penny’s chest ached, the unobtainable friendship lingering just out of reach, not bothering with the obvious response— who could I possibly tell?

“Well, I guess we’re not watching any movies here tonight,” Steve grunted as he walked back into the kitchen, “Barton just knocked the TV off the wall trying to get one of the cats down from the window ledge. Penny, go change and we’ll go up to the common floor.”

Penny didn’t hesitate, darting out of the kitchen before the blond could grab her and shuffling quickly into the bedroom. The pack of cigarettes was tucked into a pair of knitted wool socks, wrapped in one of her favorite shirts. Things she’d definitely be bringing with when they moved her, things they wouldn’t think to check for contraband.

It wasn’t really a win, but Penny hadn’t had a real win in a while. Probably wouldn’t have one for longer. So she decided to call the more than half full pack of camels a win, if only because it might’ve been the closest she’d ever get again.

content warnings: non-con oral (male and female receiving), anal play, cum eating.

#steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #steve rogers x oc x bucky barnes #dark!fic #dead dove do not eat #will reblog w tag list #let's review chapter 20 #let's review